Chapter 10: Daddy’s Dirty Little Secret: Chapter 10

Dad insisted I take him to his place to pick up a few things, which I was adamantly opposed to, but how was I supposed to tell my father no? The night I went to sit with him at his house, it was hard seeing the way the vandals broke down his door to get at his stuff. But in the daylight, it was awful. I didn’t even live there and I felt violated, like someone had crossed a line that made me feel vulnerable.

Dad was at my place now while I walked up the driveway at Xander’s massive house. The sun was off duty, and the lights on the front of his house made it seem larger than I knew it was. I rang the bell, and he opened the door almost instantly, like he’d been waiting.

Of course he was waiting; I asked him to meet for sex.

“Come in,” he said, glancing around outside before backing away and opening the door inward.

I passed by him, shuffling into his living room awkwardly. It was a mutual agreement, one where we both had equal say in when it happened or how frequently. That didn’t make me feel any less out of place or tense as the reason for me showing up sank in.

Back when I saw the front of Dad’s house boarded up, caution tape still pinned in place while the home awaited repairs, I felt so tense I could throw up. Dad would be staying with me for a while again, this time so that I could care for him. I’d gotten my fill of his parenting when I was sick, which was why I sent him home, but now I felt like he’d be safer at my place.

“Nice digs,” I said stiffly as my eyes scanned over the oversized leather furniture. The hearth had a crackling fire, though it wasn’t wood burning. The perfect flicker of gas logs created a good aesthetic, but the glass kept the heat locked away.

“Thanks. I hired a designer, barely spend any time here.” He chuckled as he walked past me, leading me deeper into the cavernous space. I could see straight through his entire house to his well-lit backyard where a pool stretched past a cement patio. The kitchen lights were off, but the glow of a smart refrigerator made me choke back a sound of awe.

“Wow,” I breathed, and he heard me, chuckling again as he stepped up to a polished liquor cabinet.

“Glad you approve.” Xander pulled out two tumblers and a bottle of amber-colored liquid. After the past twenty-four hours of dealing with Dad’s denial that the car fire and the break in may be related, I could’ve used a lot more than a stiff drink. I wanted to be held, to have my hair played with and my emotions validated. But if a quickie was all I’d get, I had to be okay with that. It was the arrangement we had come to.

I meandered over toward the fireplace where I saw a few pictures in silver frames. A few of them looked like the images that came with the frames. But one of them stood out—a picture of a teenage boy that looked a lot like Xander next to a middle-aged man who could be his father. It was a sweet image, but there was no woman in the picture.

“Ah, don’t pay any attention to those,” he said, setting a glass of whiskey down on the mantle in front of me. I felt his hand on my hip slide around to my belly and his palm splayed on my shirt as he pulled me back against his chest. I took the glass, downed it, and turned in his arms to find his lips ready to devour mine.

I wanted to ask about the portrait, where his mother was, but he consumed me entirely. His hand slipped the glass out of my grasp, and I didn’t even know where he set it. The next thing I knew he was moving me, guiding me away from the fireplace. I kept my eyes shut, instinctively following his lead as I devoured his hungry kisses.

“I am so glad you texted. I was going to call you.” Xander’s words came between heavy breaths and contact between our mouths. I gripped the sides of his shirt and pulled it upward out of the waistband of his slacks.

“Dinner didn’t go well?” My concern wasn’t about work. It was about him. He must’ve needed me the way I felt I needed him. The release of endorphins too great of a relief to ignore my body’s call for it.

“Let’s just say I’m having you for dinner.” Xander backed me against a door and reached for the knob. When it gave way, I stumbled into a dark room. My hands reached for my blouse’s buttons, working them quickly as he flicked on the light and undid his belt. “I’ve been fantasizing about you all day.”

I didn’t bother asking if it was his bedroom; I knew it was. The scent of his cologne, a mixture of earthy tones and leather, wafted through the room. My vision zeroed in on the four-poster bed and satin sheets. I couldn’t wait to be straddling him, riding him until we both called out each other’s names in release.

“Well, you’re welcome to help yourself,” I purred as my blouse parted ways with my body, landing in a pool at my feet. My lace bra and matching panties complemented the fire I felt between my legs as I slid my pants down my thighs and kicked them aside. His eyes raked up and down my semi-naked body, lust in their depths. “Or would you rather I help myself to you?”

Xander growled as he pulled his dress shirt up over his head and tossed it, a sound that came from deep in his chest. He hurtled himself toward me, and his hands cupped my breasts, kneading them through the lace. My moan elicited a smile from him as he broke away.

“You’re definitely the main course tonight, gorgeous. And I’ve been starving for you.” His lips trailed along my collarbone as he pushed me toward the bed. My back hit the cool satin sheets, and Xander leaned over me, his weight pinning my wrists above my head.

His chest was cut and bronzed, my eyes raking over every ridge of muscle and flesh. I hadn’t seen him naked entirely yet, but I had a feeling I was about to.

His eyes were slanted and dark with hunger as he ducked his head and moved my bra to the side with his chin, worshiped each of my nipples, then dipped lower to my stomach. He lavished adoration on the curve of my hip before sliding my panties to the side and pressing a finger between my thighs. “So wet already.” His voice was husky with lust as he brought his wet digit to my lips. “Sample yourself?” His hands loosed my wrists then and he smirked.

I didn’t question him. I parted my lips and flicked my tongue against the digit, lapping up every drop of my own arousal and the taste of me on his skin. His groan of approval spurred me on to suck his finger deeper into my mouth, tonguing it in arcs. My hips twisted against the mattress as arousal flooded through me, Xander watching with hooded eyes and a cocked eyebrow as if he knew what I wanted even before I did.

“Christ, Amelia,” he breathed, and then he was devouring my mouth again.

A moan escaped me as he slid two fingers inside me, his tongue matching the demanding rhythm of his hand. I felt like liquid heat, molten under his touch and I arched my back, pushing against his hand and the steely length of his erection pressed against my thigh. I wanted his flesh, not his pants in the way.

“Xander,” I whimpered, “I need you.”

He chuckled low in his throat, a sound so wicked and foreign coming from him it made my blood sing. I hated how he backed away, but I loved how he took my panties with him. As I lay there watching him smell them, I pulled off my bra. He shoved them into his pocket, and then stripped the rest of the way as I watched. His body was exquisite—rock-hard abs, his cock thick and ready for me. I blushed but didn’t cover myself as he locked his lust-filled eyes on mine and crawled back up the bed.

“God I’m going to enjoy this.” His voice came out raw as he looked at me. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. “You’re so beautiful.” He breathed in between kisses along the line of my jaw and down my neck, descending until his lips met their target. I arched into him, needing this release.

My heart beat faster as Xander’s hot breath tickled my sensitive folds. He reached for his nightstand, stubble grinding on my core, and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. I knew what he intended, but it didn’t prepare me for the feeling when the liquid made contact with my already sensitive flesh. It burned slightly, then cooled, and his tongue lapped at it and sucked me.

“Xander,” I whimpered as he started to lick, his chin damp against my pussy, his tongue circling my swollen clit. My hips rocked back and forth, seeking more contact, more friction. A moan escaped me as I felt him slide a finger inside me, then another, and I was so close already before he poured more of the fiery liquid across my mound.

“Mmm, messy and delicious,” he growled, and I began to shudder.

He continued to tease me, his tongue flicking at my core, licking up the alcohol, until I was arching off the bed, clawing at the sheets as my orgasm crashed through me. I jolted and shook, squeezing his head between my thighs, and he growled in pleasure as my hips arching off the bed took him for a ride.

His aggressiveness only made me want him more, and as soon as my trembles subsided, I pulled his hair, urging him closer to me. I wanted the taste of my juices on his mouth, the flavor of the whiskey to drink down. He obliged, his lips crashing against mine hungrily, his tongue demanding entrance, and I gave it to him without hesitation. He was hard, throbbing against my thigh, and I reached down to guide him to my center.

I could feel every vein on his cock as I stroked down his shaft, aroused by my own wanton behavior. I’d never been this woman before, but with Xander, I felt like an animal. His eyes were dark with lust and need as he braced himself over me, our chests heaving in unison.

“Tell me you want it hard,” he growled, and I arched my hips against him in response, effectively silencing any words that might have come out. He growled again, this time with my moan of approval, and then he was inside me, thick and hot and oh so deep. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling myself closer, my nails sinking into his back as he thrust hard and fast.

“Like that, don’t you?” he gasped, his eyes locked onto mine, and I could only moan in response, my head thrown back against the pillow as he continued to pound into me relentlessly. I scratched against his back harder, my nail digging into the sweat-slicked skin as my orgasm built again.

“God, you’re tight,” he groaned, his grip on my hips tightening as he slammed into me even harder. I clenched around him, hoping to increase his pleasure, and he gritted his teeth before crushing his lips against mine again. My coil was tight, and my body was ready to tip over the edge. The way his dick stroked my insides was electric.

“Come for me, Amelia,” he growled into my ear, and lost to the ecstasy of the moment, I obeyed him.

My body contracted around him, hands clawing at his sides, and I felt him flood me, cock pulsing against my convulsions. He bit down on my shoulder and groaned out my name, his hips still jerking against mine.

As our breathing returned to normal, he collapsed on top of me, hands planted on either side of my shoulders as he panted. I could feel his dick still inside me, softening but not yet ready to fully withdraw. “That was …” he trailed off, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t yet decipher. Afraid of the answer, I bit my lower lip and averted my gaze.

“Yeah,” I mumbled. He had no clue what that was to me, but I couldn’t tell him.

Xander rolled to the side, sprawled out on the comforter. The sex drained from my body, mingling with the whiskey spilled on the bed, and I wondered what I was supposed to do now. The stress was slowly evaporating, just like it was supposed to, but my heart ached to be held. I turned on my side, ready to get up and get dressed when Xander took my wrist.

“So you had a bad day? What happened? Why the booty call?”

I lingered, legs draped over the side of the bed with my back to him. “No one says booty call anymore.” I chuckled and he groaned.

“And people really say M4S? It was always a hookup to me.”

I sighed again, feeling the weight creeping back into my shoulders. “Dad’s house got broken into so he needs a place to stay until the crew fixes the front door. It’s stressful having him around.” My white lie allowed some of the steam to vent off of me, but I didn’t want Xander fully involved. Dad would be angry if I told Xander the whole story, and I didn’t want a pity party.

“Wow, yeah. I’m sorry. Does he need help?”

“Christ no,” I hissed, turning over my shoulder. “You can’t tell him I told you. He’s … prideful.” I winced as I accused my very vulnerable father of something he most certainly was. But it was a family thing. Still, Xander was his close friend, and I appreciated that he wanted to help if need be. “Thanks though.”

“Yeah, well, thank you. I needed that.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, but I sat there feeling like a lump. When he opened his eyes he reached out to touch my thigh. “It happens, Amelia. I’m sure the police will sort it out. Man, that guy has had a string of bad luck; first the car, now this.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, thinking about it with fear needling my conscience—that Dad might have gotten in with the wrong crowd—but I wouldn’t tell Xander that. God knows I’d never hear the end of it from Dad. “I should go … He’s going to expect me, and if I’m not on time, he’ll freak out.”

I stood to grab my clothing, now acutely aware that Xander had too many pairs of my panties stashed away somewhere. He watched as I dressed, lying on his side unashamed. When I finished buttoning up and found my shoes, I stood by the door, wondering if I was supposed to kiss him goodbye or how this worked.

“So, see you at work?” I asked, now feeling awkward. If this was a real relationship, I’d stay. We’d hold each other. He’d make me breakfast in bed in the morning.

“Yeah, see ya.” He didn’t even get up. He just lay there watching me slink away with my hollow shell of a heart that was already regretting this decision. Godwin was wrong. NSA sex was not amazing; it was torture. I needed arms around me, not orgasms—though those were amazing.

I was a fool for thinking I could do this, but I didn’t want to back out now. And cut myself off from him entirely when I really liked him? No, I had to stay and let my dumb heart get attached only to be shredded later on. Which was what was going to happen.

On the drive home, between bouts of frustration and heaviness, I thought about what Xander said. I was sure the police would try to get to the bottom of things, but my gut told me there were things Dad wasn’t telling people. Things I needed to know. And if he wouldn’t talk about it, I had to look into it myself. The fool was too prideful to know his own limits, so someone had to watch out for him.

I just prayed it wasn’t something dangerous. Sometimes he made really bad decisions.