Redemption (36 page)

“I do know how to get a woman all hot and bothered,” I said, admiring her ass in her jeans. I hadn’t fucked her from behind last week and I was beginning to regret the omission. There was a nice ass under those tight jeans. God only knows why she insisted on wearing boring, long skirts all the time.

“Piss off,” she said quietly, not turning to face me.

The little angel never cussed, so saying ‘fucking’ in front of her father and then telling me to ‘piss off’ was a big deal for her.

“I’d take you a lot more seriously if you didn’t sound like the Queen when you told me to ‘piss off,’ ” I said, emphasizing the last words in my best English accent.

She finally turned round to glare at me. Her face was red like it had been that night except now she looked mad instead of in a post-orgasmic glow. Why did I keep thinking back to that night? Had it really been that memorable? She’d been a virgin for fuck’s sake. How good could it have been?

“You knew,” she snarled. “You knew didn’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I replied. She looked hot when she was angry. I wanted to turn her round and carry on where we left off a week ago. I looked around the kitchen and started opening cupboards until I found Roy’s liquor cabinet.

“You can’t drink anything from there,” Vicky said. She leant over and shut the door, almost trapping my fingers inside. “That’s daddy’s alcohol. He won’t want you drinking it.”

“Daddy?” I said, laughing in her face. “You call him Daddy? Jesus Christ, you’re such a child. Please tell me you are actually eighteen. I haven’t fucked a minor have I?”

“Yes, I’m eighteen, pillock.”
Pillock?
Was that another insult? I hadn’t picked up on all the British terms yet. “Besides, the age of consent in England is sixteen. Don’t worry, you won’t be going to jail. Not unless it’s a crime to be shit in bed.”

I grabbed a hold of her hand which was still blocking my way to the liquor cabinet. “I could taste your essence on my lips for days after,” I said, looking into her eyes. “You can say what you like about that night, but your pussy can’t lie.”

She yanked her hand free and headed towards the exit but stopped when she realized that would just lead back to the living room. She didn’t want to be in there right now any more than I did.

I poured myself a large glass of scotch and took a sip. I added a few drops of water, but didn’t add ice. This whisky deserved to be drunk straight.

“Daddy… Dad’s going to be furious,” she said. “That’s about £30 of liquid you’ve poured into that glass.”

“Well, I have to hand it to your dad. He has good taste. In alcohol anyway. Women, not so much.”

“He married my mom,” Vicky said. “If you knew her, you’d know his taste in women is just fine. Besides, he’s marrying your mom and she’s a remarkable woman.”

I rolled my eyes and took another long sip of the whisky. This bottle wouldn’t last long if I had to spend much more time around Vicky.

“Please don’t tell me you’re a fan of mother dearest?” I asked. The last thing I needed was another of Mom’s adoring fans worshiping her every move.

“Of course I’m a fan,” Vicky said. “I have all of her cookbooks.” She motioned to a large collection of cookbooks in the corner of the kitchen. “Sheri’s one of my favorite celebrity chefs.”

“She’s not a celebrity,” I replied instantly. “She’s an average cook who got lucky. And you shouldn’t worship her. If you knew half the true story you wouldn’t like her either.”

“You’re as ungrateful as you are immature. I bet she’s given you everything you ever wanted and now you’re just rebelling to prove how tough you are. It’s pathetic.”

“Sheri’s done jack-shit for me except cause me no end of stress.”

“Yeah? Who’s paying for that London penthouse you’ve lived in these past few months? You know, the place with more whores going in and out than…”

“Than?”

“Than a whore house.”

“Oh, good one. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to match you in this battle of wits.”

She grabbed her glass and refilled it with water. “Just leave me alone will you. This is tough enough for me without having the constant reminder of my big mistake last week staring me in the face.”

Her
big mistake? She couldn’t have asked for a better first time than the one I had given her. How many virgins had sex three times the first night and came at least as often?  

“Which time was the mistake, sweetheart? Was it when I ate your pussy? The first fuck? Second? Third?”

“Shut up,” she yelled, pulling me away from the door to the far end of the kitchen. “Jesus, my dad is just through the door and so is your mom. Do you want them to know their children had sex?”

“I don’t care,” I lied. “Mom knows I like to spread the love around a bit. She’d be surprised if I
hadn’t
fucked you.”

“Well I’m not like that and my father thinks I’m still a virgin. I’d appreciate it staying that way for as long as possible.”

“Is that why you dress like a virgin?” I asked. My fingers reached out and quickly opened the top button of her blouse with an experienced flick of my fingers. It wasn’t enough to see any of those sweet, perky titties, but I felt my erection growing in my pants anyway.

What the hell was wrong with me? I couldn’t see much more than her collarbone and I was already getting aroused.

“Don’t touch me.” She tried to sound mad, but she didn’t do the button back up and made no attempt to push me away. She wanted me again. I could see it in her eyes.  

“Do you think about me at night?” I asked. “When you’re in bed naked?”

“No. Never.”

She leaned back against the kitchen counter to create some space between us and pushed her tits towards me in the process. I could rip that blouse open and be sucking on those titties within seconds and she’d love it. That wasn’t anger in her eyes; it was desire. She was fighting it, but I could see the passion there.

“You’re lying,” I said, leaning forward and whispering in ear. “I bet you lie in bed each night and think of me as your fingers move towards that tight wet pussy of yours. Tell me, do you prefer to rub your clit or stick your fingers inside your cunt?”

“You’re disgusting,” she said, turning her head to one side. She couldn’t look at me anymore.

“I bet you’re wet right now. God, I can practically smell your wet—”

I stopped talking when I heard a noise behind me, but I didn’t move away. Vicky reacted quicker. She pushed me back to create a gap between us. I ended up standing right next to my drink which I picked up just in time for Roy to walk into the kitchen.

“What the hell is going on in here?” he yelled. I didn’t know whether he meant my violation of his whisky or his daughter.

Jessica Ashe is a twenty-seven year old British woman currently enjoying the much nicer weather found in Northern California. She enjoys writing about sophisticated and intelligent women and the hot alpha males that lust after them.

You can contact Jessica at 
[email protected]
, follow her on Twitter at 
@AsheRomance
, and on 
Facebook
.