Being Their Baby (5 page)

She started choking up again; it had been quite disturbing to see how bad Sophie’s life had gotten and what sort of conditions she’d claimed to be “okay” with. It was dusty, dirty, and there were surely plenty of cockroaches and rats up there… It made her stomach churn.

A jail cell normally freaked out a kid from the suburbs within ten minutes, but Liz was now less than surprised that Sophie had been perfectly comfortable in there for two days. Liz suspected it was only because of Sophie’s new cellmates that she called at all; two women in their late twenties with far too much makeup and who smelled like something between meth and hairspray had been surrounding Sophie like she was a meal by the time Liz had walked in to see her bailed out.

Josh suddenly got serious and reached over to squeeze Liz’s fingers.

“—she’d been living up in the attic of the office, probably for weeks, and nobody ever knew. I offered her money, but she wouldn’t take it! Jesus!” she continued to blather, but then she tried to collect herself. She had to be stronger than this. “The thing is,” Elizabeth went on in a much more even tone, wiping her tears delicately from her mascara, “she’s so stubborn that if I took her to a hotel, she wouldn’t stay there. She won’t accept help—she’s such a brat about it!”

“You can’t force anyone to accept charity, Liz,” Charlie told her with a sigh riding his words.

She narrowed her eyebrows. “Watch me.” When she met Charlie’s firm, unbending gaze, she added, “She’s going to stay here as long as it takes.” Charlie didn’t change his expression at all; he still looked unhappy. “So what’s so different between me bringing home Sophie and you when you brought home Lacey?” she demanded.

Charlie’s mouth opened a little bit, looking annoyed at the question. “Liz—are you seriously comparing the two situations? Because I’d love to help you chart that out,” he snapped. “For starters—Lacey was from the suburbs. She wasn’t a desperate waif living on the streets. She was experienced, she had been in a D & S relationship before, and she knew about alternative lifestyles. She was twenty-six—eight years older than Sophie is. Most importantly, I was interested in having a long-term relationship with her. A sexual one. And she knew it.”

Liz straightened her shoulders. “I’m interested in Sophie for a long-term relationship, Charlie—I just couldn’t do anything about it until now because she was underage, but she isn’t anymore,” Elizabeth assured, feeling slightly defensive. She added slowly and evenly, “I want her to live here, though, whether she wants to date me or not. I’ve decided.”

“Well,” Charlie grunted angrily, “thanks for asking for our opinion on who lives in
our
house or not!”

“You were just saying last night that you didn’t want to play ‘daddy’ anymore, and that I could still date whoever I wanted,” she reminded. “Did something change in the last six hours?” She turned to Josh, who was watching the exchange with bright, amused eyes. “What do
you
think?”

Josh exchanged a look with Charlie and then put up his hand over his brow to blind himself from Charlie’s glare. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “whoever and whatever is important to you, Liz, is important to us. I think everything will work out. Mainly because it’s you, and everything works out with you because you’re a beautiful, strong woman with a good head on her shoulders.”

This was blatant sucking up, she knew, but Elizabeth suddenly felt the urge to jump Josh’s bones.

Josh continued, “Who knows? It might all work out perfectly. You know what Dad used to say—you’d never know that fate put something in your lap if you don’t look down every now and then.”

Elizabeth grinned slightly and turned back to Charlie, who continued to look unhappy. “It’s like my opinion doesn’t even matter,” he grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest like he always did when he was out-voted.

Elizabeth sighed and leaned over to kiss Charlie on the cheek. He didn’t react to it, acting like a stubborn little boy. Soothingly, she said, “I promise that if you really feel strongly against her, or you both don’t get along, I’ll figure something else out.”

Charlie grunted. “Fine.” He began to eat again. Apparently her promise had made him feel a little bit better. Suddenly he brought his head back up. “She’s a
prostitute
?”

Elizabeth sighed and waved her hand through the air. “She was trying to sell her virginity to anyone who had a few hundred bucks in his pocket and got an undercover cop instead, thank God.”

“Wait, wait,” Josh said. He grabbed the edge of the table and leaned forward. “You mean she’s a virgin prostitute? Those
exist
? Wait—” He leaned back and turned his head so that he was leering at her with one eye, as if she were making Sophie up. “Are you saying that there are still virgin
eighteen-year-olds
?”

“Josh,” she scolded.

“What? It’s not as if I’m calling shotgun to some young, innocent waif’s cherry or anything,” he said innocently. “But if I
were…
Could I call shotgun?”

“Josh,” Charlie scolded this time. “You can’t call shot-gun like she’s the front-seat on a roadtrip.”

Josh shrugged. “I’m just saying that I have a nice, big, hard cock if she’s interested. I’d take it slow—unless she likes it hard and fast, because
then
…”

“Josh!” Charlie and Liz snapped at the same time.

Subdued now, Josh went back to his food, grumbling, “I’m always getting Charlie’s sloppy seconds… sucks…”

Chapter Three

Sophie lay on the bed after her shower and after dressing in the sundress, sweater, thigh-high stockings, and white panties that were laid out for her. She didn’t think the clothes suited her very well; she could count on one hand all the times she had worn a skirt before, but at least these items smelt nice—rich people must have purchased better detergent, because she smelt like a lilac now. Where the clothing had come from, she wasn’t sure. They were too small for Elizabeth’s body, even though they were still too big for Sophie. Certainly, the dress’s designers were into women with breasts like Dolly Parton.

The shower had felt amazing; she had been freezing her ass off for so many days now that she’d almost forgotten what a long, hot shower could do. She’d never used expensive soaps, shampoos, conditioners, cleansers, deodorants, or toothpaste, but that’s what had been given to her. She hadn’t even owned a loofa before, but she could say for sure that she was probably cleaner now than she’d ever been in her life; every pore had been purified, and it left her smelling like strawberries until she put her flower-scented clothing on.

Brushing her teeth had been quite strenuous; that place on her mouth where her stepfather got a particularly hard punch in was even sensitive toward the soft bristles of her new pink toothbrush.

She knew she’d been told to go downstairs, but she couldn’t make herself do it. She was feeling particularly low, despite her cleanliness. She felt like she was receiving charity that she simply didn’t deserve. The only reason she was lying down on an amazing mattress in a first-rate accommodations was because she’d accidentally gone right up to an undercover cop the other night and offered to let him bust her cherry for five hundred bucks. It hadn’t been the classiest thing she’d ever done, particularly because it took a lot of cheap booze to get her courage up to even stand on that street corner in the first place.

Guilt swarmed her mind, giving her a headache. She pulled a pillow over her head and tried to block out everything around her.

Eventually, she heard the doorknob to her room turn quietly and the tap-tap of Elizabeth’s stilettos upon the polished hardwood floor. “Sophia?” she asked softly, as if testing to see she was awake.

Sophie crunched a little more into a ball in response, rather than staying still like a good liar who wanted Elizabeth to think she was actually sleeping.

Elizabeth came closer and Sophie felt the mattress shift as Elizabeth sat down on the far end of the bed and then scooted over until she was next to Sophie’s head. Liz lifted the pillow, and Sophie squinted her eyes in response, balling up a little more.

“Such a pretty girl,” Elizabeth cooed, lacing her fingers through Sophie’s damp, blonde tresses. She stroked her fingers against Sophie’s forehead and ears, and Sophie hated how good that felt. She hadn’t gotten a friendly touch from anyone in so many years, that now it made her feel a little sorry for herself.

“Sophia,” Elizabeth began softly. “I’m sorry I scolded you so much today… I just get a little maternal sometimes. Especially,” she added, “with you. You’re so young, and so small, and so cute that it hurts when I see you don’t have anyone else appreciating that about you. You should have someone protecting you; instead it’s just you braving this really hard world. It’s got to feel like someone tied weights to your feet and cast you into the ocean to drown, and you’re floundering just to keep your lips above the waterline.”

Sophie swallowed; Elizabeth put it perfectly. Sometimes, Sophie just felt like she was drowning. But that didn’t mean she wanted to bother anyone into rescuing her. “Miss Button,” she sighed. “I’m not that vulnerable. I’m really not. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“I’m not saying you can’t manage, sweetie. I’m sure you could struggle and scratch out a living for yourself. You can’t
thrive
, though. I promise that if you just let me help you, let me take care of you, then you can actually blossom and accomplish any dream you’ve ever had. You have so much potential. But you can’t grow if everyone’s kicking dirt on you.”

“
Let me take care of you
”
rang in Sophie’s ears. It almost pushed her to tears. She so, so badly wanted that, to let Elizabeth do that for her… but the fact was that she wasn’t anything to Elizabeth. She would just be the weight tied to Elizabeth’s neck. She didn’t want to be that for anyone.

Elizabeth was a goddess to her; her idol. The last thing she wanted was for Elizabeth to eventually tell her what everyone else had: that she was sorry that she’d ever met Sophie, that Sophie was stupid, good-for-nothing, lazy, worthless… Sophie couldn’t listen to that—not from
her
. If Elizabeth said it, then it’d make it true beyond any doubts.

She finally murmured, “I’m not worth the trouble, Miss Button. I’m not even worth noticing. I’m nobody. I’m not stupid; I know what you think of me. I’m this… this
thing
that as soon as I’m gone, and out of your sight, you’ll feel better, really. That’s all I want—just to go and let you pay attention to other stuff, stuff that’s more important.”

Elizabeth shocked Sophie then by not cringing or sighing and continuing the façade that she cared because it was her duty to. Instead, Elizabeth grabbed Sophie and pulled her up and onto her lap in a single, graceful, and strong movement. Elizabeth’s thighs were hard, her body trim and tall like a basketball player. While sitting here, awkwardly, and especially as Elizabeth pulled Sophie’s head toward her perfect, soft bosoms to rest on, Sophie truly felt like a little girl next to this woman.

Elizabeth’s warm arms wrapped around her, which was so odd—Elizabeth never struck Sophie as a very warm person, really; certainly not a hugger, definitely not a cuddler. Yet here she was, being cuddled by the
Devil in Red Heels
and getting her hair petted like she was a child who’d woken up from a nightmare. “Stop saying you’re not important!” Elizabeth ordered, hugging her even harder. “You think you’re so knowledgeable, and you’re so hardened, you don’t even seem to get that I look forward to your bright eyes every day I go to the office! Jesus, Sophie—I fell in love with you when I first saw you. I’ve been at odds with whether to adopt you or kiss the hell out of you!”

Sophie blinked, and a tear escaped her eye by surprise. She wondered if she’d heard right—did Elizabeth Button
want
her? As a lover, not just a project? It didn’t seem possible. It was like a swan falling for a toad.

Sophie tilted her head up and looked at her; there was definitely affection in Elizabeth’s eyes. She couldn’t believe it was there at all, but just as she wondered if it was romantic or not, Elizabeth tilted her chin up higher and kissed down the damp trail her tear had left behind, then again, following it down her cheek. When she reached Sophie’s mouth, she pressed her soft, red lips onto hers.

At first, Sophie couldn’t even move, let alone return the kiss, but then she had a moment of desperation that washed over her and she squeezed Elizabeth as hard as she could and tried her best to return the kiss, lapping at the tongue that teased her own.

Lost somewhere between panic and excitement, Sophie realized she had no idea what she was doing. She had no idea how to kiss a woman, what the protocol was, where to put her hands. In fact, Sophie hadn’t even had much experience kissing
men
; she’d kissed a few boys when she was still in high school, but just a couple, and it had been too long ago and for too short of time to consider herself good at it.

She felt ham-handed and clumsy instantly, worrying if Elizabeth enjoyed being kissed back. When Elizabeth broke off the kiss, she stroked Sophie’s chin and decreed, “You are the cutest thing imaginable.”

Sophie blushed crimson and said earnestly, “I can do better than that, I swear!” She tilted her head up to try again, but Elizabeth just tapped Sophie’s nose with her index finger, stopping her.

Sophie’s face contorted with horror, disappointment, and despair. She was certain she had blown it with Elizabeth—and even though she wasn’t a full-blown lesbian, she knew she wasn’t so ridiculous as to let Elizabeth go on purpose!

Elizabeth suddenly laughed, cupping Sophie’s worried face between her hands. “Sweetie, you did fine! I’m thirty-two; I just don’t often have long make-out sessions anymore, particularly not with little girls who need a good session across my knee.”

At first, there was relief, but the relief was replaced quickly with confusion when Sophie digested some of her words. “Across your… knee?” She wondered if that’s where the kissing lessons were done.