Cry Little Sister (6 page)

Chapter Eight

He couldn’t be serious. He. Could not. Be serious.

Jordan dried off with shaking hands, her body one big urge to come. It was all she could think of and all she could feel. Which she had to assume was the point.

According to him, it would be worth her while. She doubted it.

Jordan sat on the bed, cross legged and naked and tried to breathe. Would he really know if she…

She pushed that temptation away. This was Gareth. Yes, he would know. He was freaky aware that way. He always knew when she was lying just as he could always tell when she was sad.

“Freaky mind reader.” She pulled her hair up into a messy bun and clipped it. Then she pulled on big gray sweatpants, a huge maroon sweatshirt and her dingy pink slippers.

If he was going to torturer her, she was going to look as boring and blah as possible. It was a meager weapon, but it was something.

Gareth knocked and when she called out he peeked in. “What are you going to do about this number?”

“Not sure,” she sighed.

“Do you want me to call?”

It was tempting. And  yet, she had the feeling if they weren’t siblings…that she was Kelly’s child and Gareth was Doug’s. She felt compelled to be the one to talk to her possible father.

“No,” she sighed. “I think it should be me.”

Gareth gave her a sharp nod. “I understand.”

He slowly—so she knew he was doing it—dragged his gaze over her body. Then he laughed loud and sudden. “Nice outfit. Do you think that’s going to show me?”

Her face flooded with heat and she forced what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug. “No, I was just going to get comf—“

Gareth pushed into the room and grabbed the string to her sweatshirt hood. He tugged it tight so the hood swiftly gathered behind her head and he tied it once, without knotting it under her chin. So it was cutting into her skin. Cutting off some of her air.

His huge hand cupped the back of her head and he roughly reeled her in for a kiss, pinning her against him with that hand in her wet hair. His other hand swiftly snaked down into her huge sweat pants and he pressed her clit hard. It was as if he’d memorized her body already—zeroing right to the hard taut bit of flesh so riven with this fresh craving for Gareth.

“You’re so close,” he said, sliding a single finger into her soaking wet hole and thrusting into her like he was fucking her. She imagined him fucking her. Allowed herself that privilege finally. Imagined his cock, big and hard and blushing, sliding into her wet, wet pussy and filling her. Stretching her and working her and how it would feel to come around his hard, warm flesh and…

Her pussy tightened greedily around his single finger. Gareth grinned like some fairytale bad guy and pulled his finger free. “Not yet, kid.”

Then he kissed her nose and left her standing there in her baggy close. Way worse off than when he’d come in.

*****

“Is Kurt there, please?” Jordan had to keep her voice from trembling like the rest of her. Besides cold calling a man who could possibly be her father, she was still reeling from her brother sticking his hand down her pants and his finger in her body.

“Hold on, please.” It was a pleasant female voice and she assumed it was the woman Kurt’s mother—her possible grandmother—had mentioned.

“Hello?

“Hi, Mr. Paulson. My name is Jordan Daniels…” She tried to sound calm and sure of herself but her voice felt trembly and weak and Jordan was sure that it sounded the same to him.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

Jordan cleared her throat and she could feel, more than see, her brother standing in the archway that separated living room from dining room. She drew a thick and heavy spiral on the pad in front of her, pressing down so hard she feared she’d break the ball point.

“My mother’s name is Kelly. Kelly Daniels but it used to be—“

“Kelly Singer,” he finished.

“Yes,” she said, rushing on. “I know that you and my mother were married a few years before I was born.”

Silence.

She rushed on, determined not to lose her nerve. For just a moment, to still the clamor of anxiety from talking to this man, she let herself focus on the memory of Gareth touching her. The feel of his hands—hard and callused from work, but very talented and very gentle when need be—on her skin. Inside of her.

“Anyway, my mother isn’t here and my father…her second husband, I guess, just died.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” He finally spoke in a soft wary voice.

“Thank you…thanks.” She put her head in her hand for a moment and tugged her bangs sharply to focus her attention. “But he was kind of delirious at the end and said a few things to make me and my brother believe that maybe…Doug really wasn’t my dad.”

Gareth’s hand settled on her shoulder—warm, reassuring, and under it all—and maybe she was just hallucinating that part—possessive.

“Oh,” Kurt said. Sounding surprised but calm. “And you think—“

“That maybe you are actually my dad,” she rushed on. “Yes. Maybe…um. Possibly?”

“No,” he said.

Her heart sank and her vision fuzzed over. She felt like she was suddenly in a misty painting by Monet. Everything went soft around the edges. Colors muted. Jordan put her head down and said, “Oh.”

Gareth squeezed her shoulder and she tried to steel herself. She wanted to cry or rage or just simply sniffle and sob until she melted into a puddle of goop. Instead she started to reply, “Thank you for your time, Mr—“

“But I know who your dad could be.”

Jordan froze, her heart skipping a step and then flopping chaotically before remembering its intended rhythm. “You do?”

“Sure. Your mom and I only made it a year. The intention was good but the execution sucked, as it were. We were both young, stubborn, head strong and the most we had in common was…well, passion.”

Jordan smiled. “I see.”

“But after me she met a man named Ted Sweet. Can you believe that name?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Anyway, they were together for a while. I heard they’d broken up because he was stationed elsewhere. I want to say he was a marine but he might have been in the Army. Either way, they were very much together right after Kelly and I called it quits. The time frame fits for you, though, Jordan.”

She gave him her number and thanked him profusely and asked him if he’d call her if he thought of anything else. Kurt Paulson said he would.

Jordan hung up and Gareth kneaded her shoulders. “Well?”

“Well, he’s not my dad.”

His grip grew tighter but his hands stayed on her.

“But my dad might be a man named Ted Sweet.”

Gareth blew out a breath and kissed the top of her head. “Best news I’ve heard all day. Want wine?”

“No. I want to curl up with a good book and go to sleep.”

“Just make sure that’s
all
you do,” Gareth said and left her sitting there.

Chapter Nine

It was stupid. It was stupid and it was dumb and it was horrible. Jordan tossed to her side and then back to her original angle.

“God damn it.” She hissed it in the dark and then proceeded to beat the shit out of her pillow.

If Gareth had told her she could finish herself off, she’d never want to. She could have just gone to bed.

It was that he’d told her
no
. And she knew it. And Jordan knew that Gareth knew it.

“What a mind fuck.”

She flopped on her back and tried to steady her breath. Her hand trailed her belly, sliding beneath the tank she wore. The waistband of her sweatpants teased her with memories of Gareth pulling them wide and shoving his hand inside.

She groaned softly and then covered her sound, realizing he might hear her. Fuck!

Jordan slid her fingers below the cloth covered elastic, sweeping her fingers back and forth over the tender skin above her mound. Her body thrilled at the touch. Her hips arching up on their own at the tender brush of skin on skin.

She spread her hand wide over her shaved sex and let the heat from her fingers seep into her body. The tip of her middle finger grazed her swollen desperate clit and she sighed with contentment.

She couldn’t make herself come. She’d just…give herself a moment.

Jordan thought that maybe if she slid her fingers along the outer edges of her inner lips, she’d be better off. Not as sensitive. Not as intense.

But it didn’t work. Her blood flow reveled at the pressure and her clitoris took up a war drum beat, all of it concentrated maddeningly in that tiny knob of flesh.

Finally, she shook her head at it all. How silly and ridiculous it was. “So stupid.”

She rubbed her clit in earnest. Her pressure much harder now than the usual since she’d had to wait so long. Since her need had grown so large.

Jordan forced three fingers deep into her cunt and curled them to her deepest spots. The suede patch of hidden flesh responded, shooting a warm pleasure through her pelvis and her belly. Her legs felt heavy and her toes curled. So this is what waiting forever and ever to get off felt like.

Her thighs fell open as her body greedily demanded the orgasm it was due. She didn’t have to think, her body did its own fluid dance. Hips pulsing up, swaying a bit—heels digging into the mattress as she tipped up enough to get her finger deeper. Jordan ground her clit to the palm of her hand, fucking herself the way she wished Gareth would. Hard and demanding and completely intense.

The pleasure swelled, burst, leaked throughout her. The orgasm banging into her hard before shaking her all over. The rush was sweet and sudden and seemed to unfurl forever. Aftershocks moving in her pussy triggering warm waves of pleasure in her legs and arms. Her face was hot, her chest slick with a sweat.

She shoved her hand in her hair and felt it slightly damp too. Her heart was a wild thing pounding to get out of her chest and her stomach fluttered with anxiety. She’d broken his rule. As the orgasm faded, the realization hit her.

Jordan had promised she’d behave. She had given her word. And she’d broken it. Gareth had told her no—no release. Jordan had decided otherwise…

She blew out a sigh and turned to her side, her body calmer for the orgasm. There was nothing she could do about it now. She’d broken the rules and she’d decide in the morning if she was going to tell him.

He’ll know…

“That’s crazy,” she whispered in the dark.

The lights flipped on and Jordan blinked, raising her head to find the source of sudden brightness.

“Was it good?” Gareth asked.

She wanted to answer him but her mouth wouldn’t work. Her lips were frozen and her tongue a traitor. She blinked again as Gareth stepped into her room and shut the door.

*****

She backpedaled on the bed, her head hitting the back which was actually the sofa. Springs squeaked and that horrible iron bar that she made a production of not sleeping on, smacked her bottom.

“Jesus, Gareth! You scared the shit out of me.” She wanted so badly to sound irate. She sounded guilty. It was audible to her so it had to be audible to him.

“Was it good? That orgasm I told you
not
to have?”

“I—”

“Was it?” he roared. He looked angry—really angry—his face was red and his voice was booming.

Shit.

“Gareth, I mean…come
on
. It was silly. I was just—”

“Doing what I told you not to,” he said. His voice had dropped low and somehow that was scarier than the yelling. His voice was all potential rage and malice.

“I just…I didn’t think—”

“That I meant it?”

She shook her head, bit her lip. Her teeth kept returning to her lower lip, plucking, gnawing, biting it hard to focus her attention.

“Take your pants off.”

“What?” she chirped. Two emotions flooded through her simultaneously. Fear and excitement.

Her body shook with the force of her feelings and the confusion of it all. Goose bumps rose up—a surge of prickly flesh—and her nipples spiked against her tank. She shivered.

“You heard me.” He toed the lip of the mattress so the shock of his movement shook the bed. “Do it.”

“I—but we don’t know if we’re not—“ Jordan broke off shaking her head. She felt so incredibly tongue-tied and frustrated. The urge to tip her head back and just scream at the ceiling was almost overwhelming.

And why hadn’t she just gone up to the second floor to sleep in her old room? To be alone? To be off the first floor?

She knew why. Because Gareth was
down here
.

He narrowed his eyes and said, “Last chance, Jordan. Take ‘em off.”

Something in his face told her he wasn’t fucking around. She pushed her fingers into the waistband and shoved. She was bare underneath and her internal muscles were still letting off random ticks and pops of post orgasmic pleasure. His eyes on her almost made her moan.