Ch. 76..80: Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad Chapter 76-80

Chapter 76

At eleven, I walk through the door to the garages, a sigh on my lips. I see Jerome immediately, waiting by one of the black cars. He gives me a big smile, which I return unenthusiastically. It's not him - I just...really don't want to go to lunch at my father's house. Jerome gives me an understanding little grimace as he opens the back door for me and I climb in. "You doing all right?" he calls over his shoulder as opens the driver's door and sits down in the front seat, genuinely curious.

"Just ready for this to be over," I say back to him, leaning my head back and closing my eyes. Jerome makes a little grunt of understanding and begins to pull out of the garage and down the driveway.

When we're on the road, I pull out my burner phone to send some long-delayed texts. I feel safe using it in my room, but not really anywhere else in the house. Not that my room is really safe anyway - Kent is very likely to have it checked daily, after the note from Fiona. Still, better safe than sorry.

I'm pleased when I see that a text from Ivan is waiting.

Ivan: Good morning, beautiful. I hope you slept well. Any chance I get to see you tonight?

I sigh, really wanting to say yes, but knowing it's impossible.

Fay: Sorry, already have plans. Send me a pic so I know how desperately sad this news makes you.

I laugh, a few seconds later, when Ivan sends me a picture of him with an exaggerated frown, tracing a finger down his cheek like a tear. Jerome looks curiously at me in the rearview mirror so I do my best to wipe my face clean, not wanting him to know what I'm up to. Then, I reply to Ivan.

Fay: You're pretty even when you're sad. Check in with me later.

Then, I'm pleased to see a text from Janeen pop onto the screen. I'm eager to see it - she never texts first unless she has a good reason for it.

Janeen: Lawyer came by this morning - gave us the deed to the house! Dad was so thrilled he cried. Wish you were here to see it. Lawyer also gave us a list of potential beach properties - insane!

A picture of a gigantic white and blue beach house pops up next, along with her assessment.

Janeen: This one is my fav, though I'm really looking for one with a hot tub.

I stifle my laugh by biting my lip, but I can't help the smile that bursts out on my face. A bad lunch with my dad is definitely worth it, if I can make my sister and my dad this happy. Quickly, I type a reply.

Fay: Pick whichever one you want. But the biggest bedroom is for me. Don't forget who got you that beach house.

Janeen's reply is prompt.

Janeen: Or how you got it! Proud of you sis. Make that $$$

She ends the text with the emojis of a cat with heart eyes, a peach, and an eggplant that, in combination, make me blush. I tuck my phone away, newly bolstered for the afternoon ahead of me.

We pull up to my father's house not long after and I see my stepmother Tristin waiting by the door, her arms crossed. Little Romulus stands next to her, waving enthusiastically. I smile at him, grateful that at least someone is happy to see me. When I step out of the car, Romulus dashes to me, wrapping his arms around my leg in greeting.

"Hey kid!" I say, laughing and ruffling his hair.

"Hi, sister!" he exclaims, grinning up at me. "I missed you! Why did you stay away?"

"Oh," I say, frowning and feeling guilty all of a sudden. "I didn't mean to - I'm sorry -"

"Romulus," Tristin calls, and I look up at her, still standing stern by the door. Romulus lets go of me and runs to her. I follow closely behind.

Tristin gives me a steady stare as I climb the steps to her house, her expression unchanging when I attempt an awkward smile. "He's mad at you," she informs me, stern, as I approach her. I don't have to think very hard to figure out that "he" means my father, not little Romey here. "You watch what you say - or you'll make hell for all of us, even when you leave."

"Oh," I say, red creeping into my cheeks. "I'm sorry - I never meant -

"No," she responds, narrowing her eyes a little at me before turning to open her door. "I don't suppose you do think about how any of your antics affect us. Not at all."

I open my mouth to protest but then shut it as I follow Tristin into the house. Because it's right - I haven't thought about it. Not at all. But then again, it's not really my fault that my father treats her poorly. I sigh, feeling a headache start at the back of my head as I follow Tristin and Romulus into the sitting room. This is a level of family drama I never signed up for.

My father starts in on me the moment I step into the room.

"What the hell do you think you're toying with, girl," he demands, glaring at me as Tristin and Romulus make their way to the couch. Romulus goes a little pale as he looks at his dad and then back at me with wide eyes.

I sigh and look down at my feet. "Can you please tell me what you mean?"

"You know precisely what I mean," he snaps. "Ending the engagement that I negotiated for you at birth? Messing around with that boy - Ivan - behind my back?" Alden slams his hand on the arm of his chair, making me jump as my eyes snap up to his. "Isn't that what you wanted?" I ask, a little scared as I spread my hands wide. "I mean - you introduced me to Ivan - you wanted me to end the engagement -"

"No, you foolish child," my father counters, angry. "I wanted to end that engagement for you, on my terms. I wanted to negotiate a relationship with Ivan, or use it to leverage other connections. Instead, you're out there making ridiculous decisions - waving your cat all over town -"

"Waving my -" I blink as I interrupt, shocked. "Waving my what?"

"A slut!" he shouts, his face growing red as he spits the words at me. "A slut! My daughter, all over town, drinking with that boy-sitting in his lap on a picnic table - kissing him - I have pictures of it! Everyone does!"

I'm shocked as well as horrified as I listen to this. I had honestly thought Ivan and I were safe at the little taco truck - I had no idea my father's intel was so good. I grit my teeth, realizing that my privacy has been violated again - that a moment that I thought was precious, private, and mine was infiltrated and documented. And now, apparently, used against me.

"You will fall in line, girl," my father growls, pointing a finger at me. "To begin, you will move in here - it is ridiculous that you are still in the Lippert house even after your engagement has ended - people will think he's taken you as his mistress -"

I laugh, my body bending over almost in half as I hear this - hear my father accusing me of precisely the truth as if it's the worst thing I could possibly do in the entire world. As I begin to straighten up, I see that this bodily reaction may have been...a mistake. My father is shooting out of his chair, Tristin going pale across the room and gathering Romulus close to her side. My father strides towards me, his face livid with rage, a shade of red I haven't seen before on a human face. I back away quickly, bumping hard into the doorway as I go but eager to get away from this rhino charging right for me.

"You will fall in line!" he commands, grabbing for my arm. "You are my daughter - you will do as I demand -"

"I will not!" I shout, ripping my arm from his grasp and angry enough to find my feet and face him as we stumble out into the hall. "You have no right to make demands on who I marry - let alone belittle me by calling me a slut when I've done nothing to -" He silences me, then, with a sharp slap across my face.

I gasp, stumbling back, my hand instantly going to my smarting cheek.

I look back up at my father, aghast. My real dad has never-ever in my life - hit me. The rage it engenders surprises me as I clench my teeth and growl, fighting the desire to claw his damn eyes out.

But, instead, I remember precisely who I am, and I stand straight, dropping my hand and giving him a withering glare.

"Kent will have something to say about that," I say softly, looking him straight in the eyes. "And so, I think, will Ivan."

Then, my eyes shift to Romulus. "If you ever need to get out of here, kid?" I say quickly, before anyone can interrupt. "You call me." Then I return my eyes to my father. "Because my mother was right to run. And anyone who stays is a damn fool."

My father lets out a bellow of rage and throws himself towards me, but I'm already out the door, running down the steps. Jerome is leaning casually against the waiting car but he jumps up when he sees me coming, pulling the back door open and running for the driver's door. Jerome starts the car even as he sits down and slams it into drive the moment I hurl myself into the back seat.

"Go!" I shout, pulling the door behind me and looking over my shoulder to see my seething father stumble into the drive. Jerome does as he's asked and peels off of his property and onto the road.

"Do you ever not cause trouble, Fay?" he mumbles, glancing at me worriedly in the rearview mirror.

I pause and then levelly meet his gaze, still shaken. "Look who's talking, Jerome," I mumble, sarcastic.

Jerome gives me a little laugh that warms my heart. He drives swiftly down the road for a few moments before speaking again. "Come on, kid," he says kindly. "Let's get you a milkshake. You look like you need it." "Is that...allowed?" I ask, curious.

Jerome just cocks his head and glances at me over his shoulder. "Lippert told me to take you to lunch, right? Who am I to take you home hungry. Besides," he says, hesitant, "you're the boss' girl now. I'm yours to command." I settle back into the leather of the seats, a bit pleased at this, my heart certainly lighter to have Jerome be so nice to me after such a nightmare of a visit. I know, suddenly, precisely why Daniel likes him so much. "Well then," I say softly. "Milkshakes and cheeseburgers it is. Lead the way, Jerome."

 

Chapter 77

Jerome and I come back a few hours later after an afternoon of light chat. We kept it easy, neither of us wanting to address the elephant between us. Instead, we talk mostly about horses. When we enter the house we're too busy laughing, the dregs of our

milkshakes still in our hands, to notice Kent standing in the hallway staring at us.

Jerome notices first, stopping in his tracks and clearing his throat, the smile dropping from his face. Kent says nothing, just slowly puts his hands in his pockets and shifts his weight to his back foot, giving us both a long stare.

Something about it - I don't know what, maybe the arrogance in his stance, or the way that he stopped us both in our tracks just by standing there - makes me roll my eyes. Despite everything - all of the trauma of the afternoon, and the crazy intimidation I felt on the third floor last night - Kent's macho bullshit still makes me want to push back.

"My dad wasn't in the mood to feed me," I report calmly, "so Jerome took me to get cheeseburgers and milkshakes. You want some?" Innocently, I hold my milkshake out to him, straw first.

Kent's eyes flick to the milkshake and then back up to my face. "No, Fay," he responds, his voice low. Then he nods to Jerome, dismissing him. Jerome is gone before I can even see him move.

"Your father called me," Kent says, prowling close enough to touch. I refuse to move an inch. "He says you were...disrespectful." Slowly, he raises a hand to my face, his thumb brushing over the red mark that lingered after my father slapped me. I flinch. Kent drops his hand.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're giving me the PG version of what he actually said?" I reply, my voice low.

"Because," Kent replies, still standing close to me. "I didn't think you'd like it very much if I told you that he called you a conceited, spoiled, ungrateful whore."

I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips as I look up into Kent's face. But I am surprised to see Kent give me one in return. My stomach turns over at the sight of this, at the discovery that I've...pleased him. And that I quite liked doing it. Suddenly, I want to please him again.

But then, just as suddenly, I am hit with flashes of the memories of last night - of how frightened I was when he moved his hand low on my body, touching places no one has touched before. And I flinch away, knowing - deep down - that I'm...I'm just not ready for it. Not now.

"Fay," Kent says, his voice oddly choked as I take a step back from him, looking at the floor.

"Um," I say, buying time as I step to the side and work to move past him. "I'm just going to go upstairs -"

"Fay," Kent says again, insistent, placing a hand on my waist in a plea to stop. I hesitate at his gentle hand and look up at him. "Please," he says, his eyes uncharacteristically wide. "Let me make it up to you..."

"Um," I reply, hesitating again because I don't really know what he means. Make what up to me? The horrible lunch he forced me to go to? The embarrassment of Daniel finding out?

But in my heart, I know precisely what he wants to make up for.

I'm just not sure I'm ready to hear it.

So, I push past him, a little surprised when he lets me go, his hand dragging lightly across my stomach as I pull away and move towards the stairs.

"Fay," Kent calls after me when I'm halfway up the steps, his voice scolding. I look down at him to see the Kent I know has returned, his hands in his pockets, his gaze perfectly controlled. "Don't forget that we have a contract. And I intend to collect."

I surprise myself with my wicked grin, then, as I look down at him. Because this, at least - this cat and mouse game? It's familiar ground. And really, I do know, after last night, that Kent isn't going to enforce that contract if I don't want him to. He wants me to want it. And, if I'm honest? After a day to think about it, and looking at him right now, staring up at me with his muscular arms crossed, his diamond-cut jaw clenched, all power, and all at my command?

I still do.

I want it.

Just...on my terms, like Janeen said.

"We have a contract, Kent," I say, my smile growing as I lean over the banister to get a better look at him. "But that contract had no specific timeline. So, I guess..." I shrug. "We'll just have to see." Then, without a look back, I jog the rest of the way up the stairs.

At around eight o'clock, a knock comes at my door, making my stomach plummet almost to my feet. I hesitate, knowing it could be one of only a few things. I'd pushed Kent this afternoon - so it could be him, ready to push me back - but...

I take a deep breath in through my nose and steel myself, moving towards the door. It's better to know, I think, than to sit on my bed for fifteen minutes speculating about it. Which is something I know I am perfectly capable of doing. But...I've got to be brave. So, I pull my door open and hear a little plop as something falls flat at my feet.

Surprised, I look down to see a box there, tied with a white ribbon tonight. I lean down and scoop it up into my arms, closing my door behind me as I hurry to the bed. Eagerly, I untie the bow and shake the box open.

I'm absolutely stunned by what I see.

Slowly, I unpack the box, marveling at the incredible softness of the little silk pajama shorts and matching camisole, each embroidered with the most delicate lily details along their edges. Then, I gasp when beneath it I find the most luxurious robe I've ever seen - cut short, but trimmed at the neck and the cuffs with soft white fur.

I glance back at the box then and marvel again at the last gift - a pair of the most delicate white moccasins I've seen with fur lining the inside and the most incredible beadwork on the top. I line these treasures up on the bed and take a moment to stare at them, a finger curled on my chin, curious.

This was...well, it was still lingerie, I supposed. But it was not anything like the lace teddy he sent me the first night, or the corset he made me wear yesterday, which were each designed to intimidate me. This collection, alternately...

Well, it seems like Kent really wants me to be comfortable. I feel a little twinge inside me at the...well, the sweetness of that sentiment. I have to admit myself shocked and surprised.

I turn this all over as I carry my new clothes into the bathroom, tying my hair into a knot so that I can take a quick shower without getting my hair wet. What did it all mean? Was he...not going to ask me to go to the third floor with him tonight? Did he want something...different?

As I step out of the shower and towel myself off, I wonder what new challenge Kent is setting up for me. How are we supposed to play cat and mouse when the cat is...being really cute? And perhaps even trying to romance the mouse?

I admit I feel some anxiety at this change as I slip the silky pajamas onto my body and pull the chillingly-soft robe over my arms. I'm still marveling at the luxurious comfort when a knock comes at the door.

I pull the moccasins onto my feet and move slowly towards the sound, not really knowing how to feel about it all. The cruel, controlled Kent I know how to handle. But this Kent...

I pull the door open, curious to face him, but then blink in surprise when I see Daniel standing there.

"Oh," I say, my eyes wide as I look up at him. "Daniel."

He smirks, leaning against my doorframe with a basket full of supplies in his arms. "What. Expecting someone else?"

I laugh a little and look down at the basket, filled with popcorn and movie supplies. "What are you doing here?"

"Movie night," he reminds me, perhaps a little too cheerfully. Then he looks beyond me, expectant. "Can I come in?"

I bite my lip, not really knowing how to say "no, thank you, please go away, your dad I think wants to take my virginity tonight and be quite nice about it." But Daniel doesn't wait for my reply anyway, pushing past me.

"I was thinking some 90's classics tonight," he says, looking at me with a grin as he settles onto my bed. "Start with Clueless?"

"Sure," I say, giving him a smile and leaning on the wall as I watch him pull his laptop from the basket and open it so that we can watch the movie in here. After a few moments, Daniel notices me watching him from the open doorway, and pauses his action. "I'm trying, Fay," he says quietly, looking at me gently. "I still want this."

"Why?" I breathe, shaking my head, not understanding him. "Daniel, you don't even like me - and what about Jerome, shouldn't you be on this date with him?"

Daniel purses his lip and looks at the door, as if Jerome will show up in the hallway at any moment. "I have to marry someone, Fay. And in this world, it can't be a man." He shifts his gaze to mine. "I want it to be you - I care about you in my own way. Won't you please let me try to convince you that this could be good?"

"Daniel," I sigh, looking down at the floor. "I just don't know..."

"Please, Fay," he begs, and I look up at him when I hear his voice catch. God damn it, but I can't let my friend cry. "Just...can we please just do this? Can you please let me try?"

"Okay," I whisper, pushing the door shut and coming over to the bed. I climb in next to my friend, leaning against the pillows and putting my head on his shoulder. "But you have to rank each of the guys on screen on a scale from 1 to 10, and you have to be honest about it."

"Paul Rudd is the only ten," Daniel murmurs, pressing play on the computer and then grabbing a bag of popcorn from the basket, offering it to me. I laugh as I accept it, and then, comfortable, begin to watch the film.

About an hour in, a knock comes at the door. I go still when I hear it, cursing myself for - stupidly letting Daniel's drama make me forget that, duh, Kent sent all of these clothes for a reason.

"I'll get it," Daniel says, hopping out of bed before I can even move. As if he was....waiting for it.

"Daniel, no " I call, trying to grab the edge of his shirt as he moves towards the door. But he's too fast for me.

Daniel pulls the door open and leans casually against the wall when he sees his dad standing there. "Hey dad," Daniel says, arrogant. "What's up."

I groan and put my hand over my face. As if he didn't know.

"Well," Kent says. "Isn't this a surprise."

 

Chapter 78

I drag my hand down my face and force myself to look at Kent. He's looking right at me, of course, from his place outside the room. Looking at me as I sit in the clothes he sent, having a movie night with his son.

"Is it a surprise?" Daniel asks, working hard to pull Kent's attention back to him. It doesn't work. Kent keeps his eyes fixed on me. "I'm just having a nice evening in with my fiancé, after all," Daniel continues. "What's so surprising about that." Kent ignores his son. I shift uncomfortably under his gaze, looking down at the popcorn in my lap. I look up when I hear Kent speak again.

"Well," he says, his voice conclusive. "I wouldn't want to interrupt. You two have fun." He pauses, looking me straight in the eye for a good ten seconds before turning slowly and striding away, perfectly in control. Daniel rudely slams the door after him. "Daniel," I sigh. "Do you have to be such a d**k?"

"He's being a d**k, Fay!" Daniel explodes, throwing his hands in the air. "What he's doing to you - how he's treating you! I'm saving you from that!"

"Daniel," I hesitate, looking at him with sorrow on my face. "Did you ever think that maybe..."

He goes still, staring at me with his mouth open. I trace the design on my duvet, awkward.

"Seriously?" Daniel breathes. "He got to you too?"

I look up at him, a little rueful. He did.

"Can we just...enjoy the night?" I sigh, gesturing towards the empty side of the bed. "You scared him away - isn't that what you wanted?"

Daniel sighs too, putting his forehead in his hand and closing his eyes to think it through.

"Just come watch the movie with me" I plead softly. It breaks my heart to see my friend so upset, even though...well, even though I know that this isn't going to end well for us. That if I start sleeping with his dad, things are forever going to be changed between Daniel and me.

And suddenly I decide that what I actually want - really - is one last real night with my best friend. While he's my best friend.

Daniel nods then, perhaps coming to the same conclusion, and climbs back into the bed with me. I rest my head on his shoulder and he gives me a chaste little kiss on the forehead, both of us apparently deciding not to talk about it. Perhaps, in this case, silence is best.

We finish Clueless, and a couple more movies, before I eventually drift off to sleep with my head still on my friend's shoulder.

But I swear, my last waking thought is to wonder what the hell would have happened, really, if I made Daniel go away. And called Kent back.

And let him peel this little fur robe from my shoulders and drop it to the floor.

I wake up the next morning to the sound of a knock on the door at six AM. I groan, blinking awake, and look sideways to see Daniel doing the same in the bed next to me.

"Mornin"," he murmurs to me, rubbing his eyes. When I get up, Daniel turns over onto this stomach, burrowing back into the pillows.

"Lazy," I chide, smiling at him and heading for the door. "What, you don't get up to receive your own clothes deliveries in the morning?"

"Clothes deliveries?" Daniel asks, peering at me. "Your clothes are delivered?"

I open the door and give the housekeeper standing there a smile, accepting the folded clothes and the white box beneath. My eyes raise at that - the white box in the morning is new. Then, I turn back to Daniel, frowning a little. "You don't get clothes delivered?" "No, Fay," Daniel says, sitting up and staring at me. I see him put it all together in his sleepy mind as I walk back to the bed. "Oh, gross, seriously? He picks out your clothes every day?"

"I kind of like it," I say, shrugging and laying out the clothes I've been sent this morning, tossing the white box on my vanity and hoping Daniel doesn't ask about it. "Takes a lot of pressure off of me. And he has good taste."

"It's so creepy, Fay," Daniel whispers, scrunching his nose.

"He's been doing it since I moved in," I reply, nonchalant as I admire the pretty blue and white dress with scalloped cap sleeves that Kent sent today. "I thought it was Fiona, at first, but she told me it's him."

"That's so weird," Daniel whispers, all in a rush, and then collapses back onto the bed.

I smile at Daniel, laughing a little, but then my laughter fades as I look carefully at the dress in my hands and wonder...well, wonder if I maybe got too used to this. Maybe I haven't thought enough about how weird this actually might be.

As I study the dress I consider that Kent controls pretty much every aspect of my life now. He decides what I wear, what I do all day, where I go, where my money comes from, where my sister and my father live. And while I've accepted a lot of that as part of living under a mafia boss's roof and enjoying the luxury of my situation...is this really what I want for my life?

I sigh, tossing the dress onto the bed, looking at it. It's a delicate, pretty thing - where was Kent imagining me going in that dress?

Did I want to go there?

I shake my head.

"Okay, Daniel," I say, clapping my hands and making him groan at the noise. I laugh and move to the side of the bed, shaking his shoulders and making him wake up. "Go away! You've outstayed your welcome! Leave me alone so I can get changed!" "No!" He shouts into the pillows, laughing too. "I want to sleep! Leave me be! You just get changed - I won't look."

"Get up!" I shout, laughing and grabbing a pillow, which I start hitting him with. "I'll see you in twenty minutes at breakfast, lazy."

Daniel grumbles his assent and climbs out of bed, stretching and yawning. I see him eye the white box as he heads for the door, and then he brings his eyes to mine, curious. I just shake my head. "You don't want to know, Daniel."

"You're right," he murmurs with a sigh. Then, he blows me a little kiss, heading next door to his own room to get ready. He pulls my bedroom door shut behind him.

As soon as he closes it, I move to my wardrobe, my mind made up.

Even though I just said that I'd meet Daniel at breakfast, I actually have no intention of doing that. I pull some of my riding clothes out of the back of my wardrobe, as well as my shiny black boots. Then, I hastily get ready for my day, eager to get to breakfast before anyone else does. Or, more accurately, past breakfast, and to the garage.

Because today, I have no real desire to hear what Kent has planned for me in that blue and white dress. Today, I want to do precisely what it is that I want to do. And today, I want to see my horse.

Forty minutes later, after successfully evading everyone but Jerome, who I made give me keys to the car, I pull up to the stables just as the sun is coming up. I park the Lexus in the spot closest to the barn doors - the one usually left open for Kent. But today, I decide, it's for me.

I give some of the workers a happy smile as I rush down the aisle to Heathcliff's stall, pulling open the latch to the door as I beam at my pretty boy.

"Hey, handsome," I murmur to Heathcliff, who gives me a happy little whinny and huffs at my hand, looking for a snack. I oblige him, pulling a sugar cube from my pocket that I snatched from the espresso bar when I snuck into the kitchen for just one sip of coffee before I ran for the garage.

"Did you miss me?" I softly ask my horse, scratching his forehead and then working my way down his neck. "I missed you."

And then I take the little box of grooming tools off the shelf at the top of the stall and get to work, brushing Heathcliff's coat until it shines and braiding his mane. I take my time with it, relishing the feeling of having all day to do this, to do precisely as I please. But also, a little thrilled at the anticipation that... Kent isn't going to like this.

That I've defied him, again. Avoided him, again.

And that I have every expectation of seeing him later, all pissed off at me. Worked up into a fury.

Just how I like him.

 

Chapter 79

A few hours later, I'm leading Heathcliff back into the stables from our ride. We didn't go in the ring today, but instead spent most of the early afternoon trotting around the property, admiring the scenery. It's a beautiful landscape with beautiful vistas and as I rose I resented, a little, that I hadn't been allowed to ride freely out here before. But then again, I'm not as interested in what I'm allowed to do as I used to be.

The day is growing hot, and both Heathcliff and I have a light sheen of sweat on us as we walk into the stables. I wipe it from my forehead with the back of my arm, looking forward to wetting Heathcliff down with the hose and taking a nice long drink from it myself, when I see him.

Just standing there, in the middle of the aisle that runs between the line of stable stalls. His arms crossed, his feet spread wide apart. Glaring at me.

Heathcliff surprises me by checking his step a bit, apparently intimidated by the raw animal fury that we can both sense coming off of the predator standing there. But I click my tongue at the horse, tugging his lead rope and asking him to come a long with me. I don't check my stride at all, barely glancing at Kent as I make for Heathcliff's stall.

After a moment, Heathcliff follows.

If Kent wants to talk to me, he can damn well wait until I've taken care of my horse.

I take a minute to settle Heathcliff in his stall, tying his rope to a metal ring on the wall and reaching for his hoof pick when suddenly one of the stable hands shows up at the stall door.

"Um," he says, awkward, glancing over his shoulder. "I'll do that for you, ma'am..."

"What?" I ask, standing up straight. "Why?"

He hesitates again, even more awkward, glancing again at Kent, who I'm sure gave him the order. I just give him a little laugh and wave my hand.

"Thanks," I say, dismissal strong in my voice as I turn away and lean down to pick up one of Heathcliff's feet so I can clean it. "But I can take care of my own horse."

"Your horse, Fay?" I hear Kent ask. I drop Heathcliff's hoof and straighten up again, turning to see Kent standing at the stall door now, furious at having been ignored several times this morning. "Last time I checked, I paid for that horse, and its care." "Really, Kent?" I ask, folding my arms over my chest and glaring at him. "You're going to take your present back, just because you're mad at me?"

Kent narrows his eyes. "I can take back more than the horse, Fay," he warns, his body seeming to fill the entire doorway.

"Is that what you want, Kent?" I ask, turning fully to him now, feeling my defiance slip a bit as I think about what he's saying. Because, as much as I like to defy him, in this moment I just...need to know. "Is that all I am to you? A contract? I defy you, and you take things away from me? I do as you say, and I get rewards?"

I see Kent tense at this change in direction. I think that he, too, was expecting a fight. Maybe looking forward to it. "Do you have a problem with that, Fay?" he asks, his voice low and resonant. "That seems to have been our deal, all along."

"So that's it, then," I push, taking a step closer and looking up into his face. "I really am just...your little doll. That you dress up and move around your play house, sending me where you want me to go, doing what you want me to do." I take another step towards him, looking up into his face, truly curious to see how he reacts. Kent works hard to hold my gaze, to keep his emotions tucked away and not let me see anything at all besides that which he wants me to see. "This is a job, Fay," Kent tells me, his voice stern. "You understood that. Services in exchange for pay, for...privileges. And if you don't perform those services...well, like any other job..."

"But this isn't my job, Kent," I reply, feeling my lower lip start to shake a little with unhappiness. Unhappiness I'm not sure I've fully acknowledged in a while. Because I've been...excited? About some of the changes in my life, and in my relationship? But if I really consider what they actually mean...I'm not sure anything has changed at all.

"I'm a therapist, Kent," I continue. "Or at least, I was training to be. That was my job, until you made me quit and locked me up in your house. Until you made it clear that the only way for me to gain any control over my life was to marry your son or sign your contract. You forced me into this."

"I forced you to nothing!" Kent hisses, closing the distance between us, his anger alive in him now. "You signed that contract of your own free will, Fay! You -"

"I am more than this!" I shout, surprising myself - and him, and the horse - with the loudness of my voice, my vehemence.

Kent takes a step back, blinking in surprise. "Fay -"

"No," I say, stepping forward into the space where Kent fell back, clenching my jaw and staring up at him. "No, Kent - you don't get to talk me out of it. All of this is bullshit - that contract is bullshit. It's just ink on paper - none of it means anything, or reflects any part of what's actually happening between us. All your contracts and your rules and your regulations? It's all designed to make me feel weak, and to make you feel strong and in charge."

"It's designed to privilege me, yes," Kent snarls down at me, not giving another inch, "because I am the one who has something you need, Fay. And your position is to serve me in exchange for it. With gratitude." His lip curls, now, with anger, maybe disgust. "Really, Kent?" I whisper, feeling a sudden burst of courage as I realize the actual truth of the situation. I close the distance between us completely so that my chest is pressed up against his. I allow the line of my body to arrange itself close against him, my stomach curved against his torso, our hips suddenly aligned.

I look up at him, my eyes wide and clear. "Because I think that the situation is actually reversed, Kent," I murmur, my voice thick with the knowledge of my power. "I think that, actually, I have what you need."

Kent stares down at me, his breath coming hard now, and then suddenly there's a shift in him - fast, lightning-quick. Just a simple click behind his green eyes, and one final moment of perfect stillness - And then Kent breaks.

A moan rips from him as he grabs me, one arm hard around my waist, crushing me against him as he brings his mouth to mine and claims me. I'm lost in him, instantly, my arms around his body fast, my hands pressing against the hard muscles of his back, wanting him closer wanting him against me, solid, now.

Kent moans again, desperate, his eyes closed as he reaches the hand around my waist lower, dipping below my a*s - not to grab it, but instead to lift me, bodily, up against him. I cry out against his mouth, shocked and a little frightened at the sudden force of him, but I wrap my legs around his waist, consenting to it, letting him carry me.

He falls forward a little, his footing unsure, almost drunk on the moment, lost in me, and then I feel the wood of the stall's barrier hit hard against my back, forcing a little gasp from me as the air rushes from my lungs at the impact. Kent pulls back for a moment, checking to see that I'm okay, but I nod to him, fervent, and he brings his face back to mine.

 

Chapter 80

My mouth is open to Kent's as he kisses me, his tongue warm and desperate against my own. I feel a hard shudder pass through me as he pulls his mouth away, the hard stubble of his cheeks a contrast to the softness of his lips as he tears his mouth across my jaw, down my neck, every movement frantic, rash - none of it designed to seduce, all of it feeling as if he can't not touch every inch of me with his mouth.

Now. Immediately.

"F**k you, Fay," he growls against my shoulder, the edges of his teeth pressing harsh against the soft and tender skin of my neck. "God damn it, f**k you."

I know he's furious, angry at me for pushing him this far - for making him the one to break -

But god damn it, I love it. A warm thrill is running through me, from my head to my toes. And despite what I know it will raise in him, how dangerous he can be, I laugh.

I tilt my head back and laugh, reckless, welcoming it.

Because it was all leading to this - contracts or not, since the moment he laid eyes on me at the jail. It was all coming to this, no matter how much he pretended. He was never in control.

Kent rips his face up to mine, livid, at the sound of my laugh, his eyes alight with violence, a snarl on his lips. But I can't wipe the smug smile from my face.

"Well, Kent?" I say, panting, my eyelids low with my want and my self-satisfied joy. "Are you going to fuck me or not?"

And then, with a snarl, he rips me away from the wall and carries me out of the stall.

I don't know where he takes me, don't really know how he navigates, because I've pulled his face back to mine and I'm kissing him recklessly now, my eyes pressed shut, my own tongue eagerly exploring the contours of his mouth. I press my hips harder against his stomach as he grips my a*s in one hand, his other steadily spread across my back as I feel him navigate us up a tight set of curving stairs.

When the light behind my eyes changes, from day-bright to a moody dark, I pull away from Kent, looking around. He's still moving us briskly forward, the sound of wooden planks echoing under his feet.

"A hay loft?!" I gasp, looking around in wonder. Then a ridiculous laugh bursts from me. "Seriously, a hay loft? Is this some kind of tawdry romance novel -"

"Shut up," he growls, falling to his knees and bringing me with him.

I comply, bringing my mouth back to his, slower and more deliberate this time as I find myself suddenly in Kent's lap, my legs still around his waist, in the cool, private dark of this secret space. Kent matches my mouth's pace, kissing me deeply now, with less frenzy, but no less intent or force.

I feel my breath coming fast now as Kent smooths his hands over the contours of my body, tugging the edges of my shirt so that they come untucked from my tight riding pants. I lean back a little, allowing Kent to pull the shirt up over my head and cast it aside in the hay. As he does, I feel the heft of him hard beneath me, rubbing against my ass. Wanting me.

I bite my lip suddenly, some of my bravado gone.

Kent looks down at my mostly-naked torso and then back up at my face. His expression changes, then, from one of anger and raw need to...something more complicated. I don't know. I can't read it.

"Fay," he says quietly, his voice rough as he brings a hand up to my face. "If you don't -"

"No," I murmur, shaking my head and sitting up straighter, bringing my face close to his. "I want to, Kent," I whisper, my words breath against his lips. I twist one hand behind my back and undo the clasp of my bra, taking a moment to toss it on top of my shirt. I see Kent go still at the sight of me, his hands twitching against the desire to touch my bare flesh, against the restraint he's practicing.

"I want it," I say again. "I just...can you show me how? Slowly?"

Kent exhales a long breath then, but not one of exhaustion - of long-denied desire finally fulfilled. "Yes, Fay," he says, his lips brushing mine, and then he seals his mouth against me. I moan into him as he brings one steady hand up to cup my breast, his thumb moving delicately over my nipple. I feel him shudder, then, his cock twitching beneath me.

He shifts, using one hand pressed against my back to balance me as he leans forward, laying me flat out on my back against -

I blink, looking to the side, surprised to see a blanket there. I open my mouth to ask but Kent takes his hand from my b****t to place a finger softly against my cheek and turn my face back to him. Quickly, he shakes his head and kisses me again. His message is clear. Questions later. Now, we do this.

Eagerly, I show him that I agree, kissing him hard and tugging his own shirt off of his body and adding it to the growing pile of clothes next to us.

What grows between us, in these moments, is a steady intent. As Kent peels my tight pants from my legs, tugging them off at the ankle, his eyes and face are serious. Mine are as well as I lift my hips, letting him slip my underwear over my bottom and then down over my knees and ankles. When I'm naked before him, he surveys me with cool but...almost solemn eyes.

Like someone looking at a beautiful painting, or...something they've lost. Something they never thought they'd see ever again. I'm unnerved by it - it's not something I understand.

"Kent," I whisper, not able to stand the intensity of that gaze. So I sit up, bringing my face close to his, putting one hand on his chest. But I don't really know what to say next. So I just stare at him, looking into his eyes, feeling...the magnitude of this thing, building between us.

He stares back at me, at my face, his breathing coming quick now. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Fay," he whispers to me. My mouth falls open at the raw honesty I hear in his voice.

And I...I can't bear it.

I close my eyes against his words, not wanting - or willing - to acknowledge the feelings they raise in me. And so I do the only thing I can think that will bring us back to fair ground, to the old place I know that we're comfortable.

I slide the hand resting on his chest downward, brushing over the waistline of his pants, lower, until I'm holding his thick cock in my hand. Trembling a little, frightened at the new experience, I move my hand over the fabric, feeling him. Kent shudders hard, his whole body giving one hard convulsion at my touch.

"Kent," I whisper, my eyes still closed. "Please. I want you now."

And then he leans forward, bringing his mouth back to mine as he begins to unbuckle his pants.