Stepdaddy Savage (9 page)

“Thank you for the party,” I say. He doesn’t answer, just reaches one hand toward me. I stand still, staring at his hand confused. Should I take it? It doesn’t look like an invitation.

“The keys,” he commands simply after a beat of silence, and I release the breath I’ve been holding inside me since I walked into this room. I hand him the brown paper bag and switch on the light.

“What’s in the bag?” He raises an eyebrow at my question.

“Keys. Like I told you.”

“If It’s just keys, then why couldn’t I open it?” He holds out the bag for me to take.

“Go ahead, open it.” He smirks. Why is he being so weird? Why did I have to pick up the keys? Don’t locksmiths usually come to you for this sort of thing? My hesitance to open it is beat out by my nosiness. I rip the top open, and spill the contents out onto the bed.
What the fuck?

They’re keys, all right. Plastic, baby keys, in every color of the freaking rainbow. At least Carter’s
baby
comment makes sense now.

“Baby toys, Graham? Really? You sent me to the Bronx for this shit?” He chuckles at my perplexed face, explaining that he had to get me out of the house to let Jade set up the surprise somehow. “You guys are ridiculous. But thank you.” It’s totally over-the-top and unnecessary, but it does feel good to have people in my life who care about me enough to celebrate my birthday.

His expression turns serious. “What’s the matter?” I ask.

He ignores me. “You know what happens when you turn eighteen?”

I lick my lips top to bottom, staring at his hands, wishing he’d move them so I can take a better look at his groin. Seeing his erection, his cock saluting for me, is the hottest thing in the world. I’ll never get enough of it.

“You’re going to finally make love to me.” I bat my eyelashes.

“Wrong,” he sing-songs in his Irish accent. “Try again.”

“You’re going to screw me?” I joke, cocking one eyebrow, but he obviously cannot see this in the dark. He scoots closer to the edge, sitting down now, and his huge tall frame covers half my queen-sized bed. God, I want all his weight on top of me.

“Bzzz. Wrong. Getting warmer though.”

He gets up, saunters over to me and my heart pounds so fast there’s a ringing between my ears. I suck in a breath, my eyes scanning his broad chest, and I’ve completely forgotten about the people downstairs despite the loud music and the shouting.

“You’re going to fuck me,” I whisper. He nods, his face inches from mine.

“I’m going to take your virginity, and not gently. I am going to come inside you, and not once. See, I planted a seed. I watered it, took care of it. I gave it sun and oxygen and a nice place to grow. And now…” His lips meet mine, but he’s still talking, not kissing me, but teasing. “Now I’m going to harvest. All my hard work boils down to this….” His index finger slices through my body, running down my stomach and between my legs. I moan, leaning into him, but before I could rub myself against him, he leaves my proximity, opens the door and stands in the threshold, still looking cold and nonchalant.

“Have fun, and make sure this shit folds up before one a.m. If I were you, I wouldn’t get too tanked or push my limits. I want you sober, conscious and willing. Understood? Oh, and don’t wear anything too revealing, unless you want your little boyfriends to lose their eyeballs.”

I nod slowly still in shock. It’s going to happen. It is really going to happen.

“Words. Fucking use them,” he prompts me, but his voice is not as cut and dry as he usually is.

“Understood,” I answer back.

And oh, I can’t wait.

I
’m wearing a baby-pink Herve Leger number and the kind of heels only a pin-up girl can feel comfortable in. I let my hair air dry after my shower earlier, so a few loose curls is all it takes. I look good, and I know it. Not because of the dress I’m wearing or the way I did my makeup, but because I shine. I smile widely, an honest to God, happy smile, something you don’t see very often on my face, and fantasize about tonight. About having sex with Graham and about spending my life with him. About moving to the master bedroom and fulfilling a dream I didn’t even know I had, to be someone’s beloved. To have a steady boyfriend. To live with a man.

“Oh my God, Dahl, bomb-ass party!” Jason, a quarterback, flings himself over me with a huge hug. He is talking to me over the music, I think Jade is playing “Hype” by Dizzee Rascal, his arm over my shoulder casually as he yells into my ear. Normally, I wouldn’t even think about it. But tonight? Tonight I’m afraid Graham is going to barge downstairs and strangle him. I know he’ll never willingly get out of his office to join the party, but he’s got cameras everywhere in this house. I can’t chance it.

“So nice to see you, Jason, hope you enjoy the party.” I kill the conversation prematurely, worming out of his touch and scurrying to the other side of the living room. The lights are dim and people are dancing with each other, thrusting hips, giggling into ears, leaning against the walls and making out. Some kids are sitting on the stairway, making it harder for couples to climb up and look for a quiet room to do filthy things in, and I find it comforting. I don’t envy the person who bumps into Graham Savage late at night trying to sneak into his room.

“You look weird,” Britney tells me, elbowing my ribs. She’s wearing a cherry-red mini dress and her hair is a messy bun of auburn locks. “Like you can’t wait for us to fuck off. Now why’s that?” She slurps her drink with a noisy sound that makes me cringe. I guess I am too distracted with my step-dad to enjoy this. But I just shake my head, a thin smile finding my face.

“Sorry. Just…turning eighteen. It’s heavy, dude.”

“At least now you can move away from your mom.” She shrugs. My mouth dries. Britney, who is good friends with me and Jade since freshman year, explains. “Remember when we just met, and you said you hate your mom and can’t wait to move out? I always thought about that. I remember the things she made you do when you were little, you being her little errand girl. And I always kind of wondered if you’d follow through with your plan to leave her. Especially as the Savage Mansion looks so comfy.”

I wasn’t the only well-off student in my high school, we had a lot of people from Princeton, but Graham Savage made it a point to have the biggest mansion in the neighborhood.

Britney was staring at me intently, her eyes gliding down my body, waiting for my response.

“Well…” I shrug, clutching onto the drink in my hand. It’s beer, and not from a keg either. We were able to afford the nice pretty bottles with the money Graham spent on my birthday party. “I haven’t thought about it, really.”

“Bullshit.” A smile spreads on Britney’s face. “You don’t just go from not liking your mother to forgetting you wanted to run away from her. Tell me. What’s next after you graduate?”

I’m going to kick my mom out of the house and live with my step-dad, who is upstairs, plotting how to ruin my vagina for all other men as we speak.

“My mom has a boyfriend and I’m pretty sure she is planning to leave with him, so….” I downplay the whole thing. “Maybe the problem will solve itself.”

“And where will you live?”

“Here.” I look around me, swallowing visibly. Britney’s mouth falls open, and I guess that’s my cue to avoid the next question that’s about to fall from her mouth. I put one hand over her shoulder, smiling broadly. “Hey, I need to go find Jade, thank her for this kick-ass party. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

With that, I bolt upstairs, bypassing the drunkies on the stairs and walking straight in the direction of Graham’s office. I have to see him. Have to tell him that I can’t wait anymore. I don’t care if there’s almost two hundred people in this house. It’s big enough for us to lock the door somewhere quiet and do it.

I walk the wide, half-lit hallway, swinging my hips seductively, licking my lips in anticipation for what’s to come. I’m just about to knock on his office’s door when I feel a hand grabbing me to the guest room right next to his, jerking me inside the dark, small space.

I giggle at first, pressing my body against the person who grabbed me. The hand was warm and big, like a man’s, but it was a little too smooth and not quite as giant as Graham’s. Then again I had two drinks to take the edge off the whole situation so it is totally possible that I’m just imagining things.

“Graham, you made me lose my tiara!” I attempt to bend over to pick it up, but his hands stop me.

“Dahlia,” a voice I recognize mouths my name, the lips ghosting over the skin on my neck and I freeze.

It’s not Graham. It’s Shawn. The guy who’s been asking me out for the past year or so. I always said no. That I don’t want a boyfriend and that I’m not the kind of girl to mess around just like that, but obviously he’s not a good listener.

“Shawn,” I groan. His body presses against mine, my back pushed against the wall, and it feels intimate and…wrong.

“Let me go,” I say softly, gently, but not because I want to be polite.
Because I’m scared
. I’m not even sure why; it’s my house after all. But I doubt Graham can hear me through the wall, and the music is loud, and Shawn stinks of vodka, and suddenly I realize throwing a huge-ass party with a ton of alcohol wasn’t the greatest idea Jade ever had.

“No, why would I? You’ve been taunting me with these tits for months now.” He reaches for my boob, pinching my nipple through the fabric of my pink dress. I gasp in shock and raise my hand to slap him, but he stops me when my palm hovering inches from his face, holding my wrist tightly. Horror swirls in my gut and I feel my breathing becoming faster. Oh, no. My god, not right now and not like this. I open my mouth and scream from the top of my lungs, but he shuts me up by slapping his hand over my lips. It hurts, and the sting makes my eyes water. Maybe it’s the terror too. It’s all too much and too fast, I can’t even process everything that’s happening.

“Shawn, why?” I try to ask through his forceful fingers over my mouth, and I feel him freeing himself with his free hand, his whole body squeezing mine to the cold wall so I can’t break free. This is a nightmare and I’m about to succumb to my greatest fear and just let go. Maybe I’ll faint. There’s no other way I can escape him. Shawn is big and athletic, a real jock, and I’m barely five foot three.

“You don’t wanna do this,” I say desperately, my voice coming out muffled between his fingers.

“Oh, but I do, so fucking much. In fact, I’ve been thinking of doing just this since I first saw you, pretty little Dahl.”

I feel his warm dick, either half-mast or not as big as Graham’s, pressing against my groin and squeeze my eyes shut. It’s enough to renew my will to fight. I try to knee him in the balls, but he anticipates my move and backs away in time. I throw out an arm haphazardly and manage to get a scream out while my fingernails meet flesh. I latch on and drag down his skin as hard as I can.

“You fucking bitch!” I look up and see Shawn, face clawed and bloodied, staring at his equally bloody hand in disbelief. My brief moment of victory is cut short when he winds up and backhands me with the same blood-stained hand. My head flies backwards and hits the corner of a shelf, and the pain screams through my head.
Where is Graham?

Discombobulated, I feel a hand twist and jerk the straps to my dress and bra. I’m totally exposed, and I can’t seem to make my body listen to my brain, which is telling me to
fight
.

Sucking in a breath, I mentally prepare myself for what’s to come…then I feel him release me.

I open my eyes, confusion and relief dancing in my stomach, when I see why Shawn let me go. He is on all fours on the floor, the music blasting from outside swallowing his moans and groans. Graham rushes to help me up, examining the damage.

“Are you ok? Did he fucking hurt you, Dolly? Tell me!” He practically roars the words. I feel my chin wobbling, fighting off the urge to cry. I shake my head, but I can’t get the words out. He scoops me up like a baby, and sets me on the couch in the guest room, before removing his jacket and tossing it around my shoulders to cover me up. He tears his tie off, rips open the collar of his dress shirt, and bunches his sleeves up. He looks absolutely fucking terrifying. A vein I’ve never noticed is bulging from his forehead, and it’s all I can focus on in my state of shock. Shawn sputters and coughs, bringing his attention back to him.

“Man, what the fuck, what the hell! This is a mistake, I didn’t, I’m not—” he starts saying, but then Graham, who is standing above him, kicks him in the ribs again. Shawn collapses to the floor. The look on Graham’s face is manic. His eyes are sparkling with something crazy. His jaw tenses and his nostrils wide, I can see it even in the pitch black.

Graham kicks Shawn again, this time in the face.

“You think you can hurt my girl? In my fucking house? Do you know who the fuck I am?” Graham asks flatly. His voice is calm, but his face and body tell a different story. I jump on Graham, pulling him away from Shawn.

“Please, Graham.”

But he keeps kicking Shawn, so I pull his arm in both my hands and whisper to him, “He’s the district attorney’s son. Let him go.”