Read Domesticated Page 17


  Walking along the beach, carrying my flip-flops, I knew. I knew things had changed in me for whatever reason. I knew I wanted more. I wanted more than money could buy me. I wanted to ride around on ATVs, I wanted to be silly, driving around in circles in little cars, I wanted my muscles to hurt from riding a boogie board, but most of all, I wanted to feel. I wanted to laugh, I wanted to sing, and I wanted to feel emotion when I was lying beneath a man. The thing is, I didn’t want them with Garrison.

  I knew where I was heading before I ever left my house. I just wasn’t expecting to feel even more down than I already was. Sam was on the beach in his swimming trunks and no shoes. He served the volleyball to a very attractive young lady and a child. A girl, maybe five or six, hit the ball back to him. I stopped and watched, instantly feeling jealousy. That was new to me, too. I never felt jealousy over anyone but my dad and my half-sisters. This was different.

  I smiled and shook my head at how ridiculous I was being when Sam saw me. His face lit up. He smiled and walked away from his game and the two girls.

  “Sisters suck. Whatever you do, don’t ask for sisters,” Sam said, high-fiving the little girl.

  “Hi,” I said, feeling extremely awkward.

  “Hey.” He smiled the biggest toothy white smile I had ever seen.

  “That your sister?” I asked, making small talk while sliding my hands to the pockets of my conservative shorts.

  “One of them. That’s Leigha. What are you doing?”

  “Walking, bored.” Jesus, why was I having such a hard time talking to Sam?

  “Are you free? Did he leave?”

  “No, hopefully tomorrow.”

  “Hopefully? Girl, you need to check your inner dialogue.”

  “My inner dialogue?” I asked, pulling his shorts to sit beside me in the sand.

  “Yeah, what are you saying to yourself? What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking I would like for you to take me in that hut and fuck me,” I blurted out in my blurting-Kendra-kind of way. That was easier. I could talk like that with Sam. I couldn’t talk to him about…feelings.

  “I can’t. I have family here this weekend. Come up to The Strip tonight. We’re all going to Bones for ribs.”

  “Garrison won’t go there. He wants to go to some Italian place in LA.”

  “Come later. I’m sure we’ll still be there.”

  “I’ll see. I don’t know if I can get away that late.”

  “Try. I gotta get back. I’ll see you later.”

  “Okay,” I disappointedly replied. Why I was disappointed, I wasn’t sure. I was just feeling down for whatever reason.

  I did try to get Garrison go to The Strip. He didn’t want to be around those kind of people. We dressed like we were going to prom for fifty-year-olds. My black dress hung like curtains on the wall, pleats going all the way to my knees, and a cover just like a valance hiding my bare shoulders. I didn’t even try to wear something a little sexier. What was the use?

  “You’re flying home tomorrow, right?” Garrison asked, spinning pasta around his fork.

  “No. Why would I do that?” I snapped, sounding a little more defensive than I meant to.

  “You have Penelope Wrights baby shower,” he reminded me of the dreaded fact.

  “Oh, that’s not until next Saturday. I’ll come Friday,” I said, relieved.

  “There’s no sense in doing that. We pay the charter service for the plane and pilot.”

  “Yeah, okay. Do you want me to pay for it? I can.”

  “Where is this coming from? Of course, I don’t want you to pay for it. That’s my job. Is there something more important here? Something that you can’t leave for a few days for? I’ve already told Angelica you would be happy to help with the decorations. You know your name will be in the paper as helping with the amazing decorations.”

  “My name or yours?”

  “Kendra? Is this about the monthly thing?” Garrison asked.

  “No. Whatever, Garrison. I’ll fly home with you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you. You should start planning for the caterers and festivities for the Fourth, too. That’s only two weeks away, you know.”

  “Yeah, I’ve pretty much taken care of it already,” I lied. I wasn’t interested in doing any of it. I didn’t want to do it. When did this happen? When did I go from wanting to impress my stuck-up friends to wanting to ride four-wheelers? I would call Olivia to take care of it. She could use the money.

  I didn’t ask Garrison to walk with me after dark. I didn’t want him to go. I was annoyed with him. I didn’t want to leave the beach. The thought of going back to Connecticut soured my stomach.

  “I’m going for a walk,” I announced.

  “Like that?” Garrison asked, looking up from his cell phone.

  “Yeah, Garrison. I’m going to wear shorts and a tank-top with my flip-flops on the beach, just like everyone else here.”

  “You’re not like everyone else here.”

  “Oh my god. I’ll be back,” I said, shaking my head and closing the door.

  I walked in the direction I was hoping to find Sam. His dark hut told me he was still at the little bar on The Strip, I headed that way.

  Keeping my distance, I sat at a table away from where I saw Sam and his family. They were so happy together, like family should be. I ordered a beer of all things and watched, observing the interaction Sam had with his family. I wasn’t sure who was who, but I could tell he was close with them, all of them. I can’t remember a time where I felt that way. I used to say I wanted it to be the way it was before my mother left, but deep down, I knew that never was the case. I don’t think my mom ever wanted to be there with my dad and me. She was too busy chasing a dream. I do remember it being better pre-divorce though, before Adriana came to work for us.

  “I not want you to go,” I remembered, telling my mother while she made herself up in the mirror.

  “I have to, sweetie. Mommy will be back in two days. You have a new nanny. You have to teach her how to take care of you. I bet she’s a really good storyteller. Hey, I know. I’ll bring you home some new books, and Adriana can read them to you, okay?”

  Adriana didn’t read to me. She never did anything with me. At first, she pretty much ignored me. It wasn’t until after she started getting frisky with my dad that she paid attention to me. It just wasn’t the welcoming attention I wanted, or the attention a little girl needed.

  Thinking about it now, I wondered why nobody noticed. How could you not watch this blossoming little flower go from lively and vibrant to a shallow shell, afraid to move? You see all the commercials, the Lifetime movies, and the news specials where everyone says to tell someone. That’s what I did when I was seven. I was reading a little kid book while I waited in the play area for Adriana to get out of the doctor’s office. She had taken Paris in for her one-year-old check-up. She took Katie’s hand and left me alone, probably hoping I’d be kidnapped or something.

  I flipped through an adult magazine and stopped on a picture of a little girl. She was sad and looked scared, like me. I read the small paragraph like any seven-year-old child would, one word at a time. “If. Someone. Is. Hurting. You. Tell. Someone,” I read, pointing to each word with my finger. Maybe I could tell someone. Maybe someone that didn’t work for my dad would help me. The first person I thought about was Ms. Lilly. She was always nice to me.

  She was the school nurse at the private all-girls school I attended. Once, when I skinned my knee on the concrete by our pool, she took care of it for me when Adriana didn’t care. She put medicine on it and blew it when it burned, making the sting go away.

  I faked a tummy ache the following day at school. Ms. Lilly laid me on the sick bed and rubbed my tummy. She gave me a blanket and I smiled. I loved when she did that. She had a warmer for them and they always felt so nice.

  “I’m supposed to tell somebody if someone hurts me,” I said.

  Ms. Lilly took my little hand and smiled down at me. She
was so young and pretty. Her hair was blond like mine and my mothers, and she always had pretty pink lips.

  “Is someone hurting you, sweetie?” she asked, rubbing the back of my hand.

  I nodded and proceeded to tell her everything Adriana did to me.

  Seeing the happy, loving expression change on her face while she listened scared me. She was going to tell on me. Adriana would find out I told and I would be in big trouble. I started to cry, knowing I was in for it.

  Ms. Lilly smoothed my hair from my forehead and wiped away my tears. Everything that happened from that point forward was surreal. Not what I was expecting at all. Ms. Lilly—

  “I thought that was you. You could have come and said hi,” Sam said, sliding the chair out beside me, bringing me back to the future. “Three beers? I’m impressed. I’ve trained you well,” he boasted. “What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

  I changed the somber look on my face and smiled at him, happy he was there. “Nothing’s wrong. I was just watching you with your family. You’re close?” I questioned.

  “Yeah, we are. That right there is Leigha and Lynn. They’re the oldest.”

  “Twins?”

  “Yeah, and Jimmy is the one trying to do whatever the hell he is trying to do,” he laughed at the guy attempting to do some sort of break dance move, but failing miserably. “He’s my stepbrother. Jill, Damion, and Leo aren’t here. They’ll be here over the Fourth.”

  My eyes shifted back to Sam’s stepbrother, now doing some sort of wave. “He’s drunk,” I stated the obvious.

  “You want to get out of here?” Sam asked.

  “Okay, we have to go to your place, though. Garrison is at mine,” I said, already feeling the dampness in my shorts.

  “Let’s just walk. I have someone staying at my place.”

  “Is it a girl?” I asked. I was teasing. I knew if there was a girl there, she was related.

  “Yup, she’s the second prettiest girl I know,” he teased right back. I knew I was the first he was speaking of.

  Sam bought us a six-pack and we carried away. I pulled my fingers away from his when he tried to hold my hand. Garrison was there, not that I had a reason to think he would see me. Garrison wasn’t the type to go after his woman. I guess it was just another one of those things that scared the hell out of me about Sam. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to be this…whatever this was.

  Sam led us to a quiet, dark part of the beach between a section of houses and huts like his. He opened a beer for both of us and we sat, overlooking the ripples in the ocean illuminated by the moonlight.

  “I’m going back to Connecticut with Garrison tomorrow,” I explained, taking a very long drink of the ice-cold beer. Aahh, refreshing.

  “Why? I thought you were staying the summer. What about your Fourth of July party?”

  “I’m not staying, just the week. There’s a very extravagant baby shower for a political baby. I have to go help with the planning.”

  “Oh, is it a friend?”

  “Not really. I can’t stand her to be honest.”

  “Then why would you do it?”

  “Status quo.” I smiled.

  “Like you going to this baby shower is going to make you look a certain way? I don’t get it. What do you mean?”

  “No, it’s not going to make me look a certain way. The Ashby name will be mentioned in the papers.”

  “Ah…Status quo,” Sam said, understanding the stupid fact.

  “Yeah, you should fly there and meet me about mid-week.”

  “No, thank you. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “Yeah, I knew it was a long shot. Maybe you better just fuck me here. Right now,” I suggested, lying back on my elbows.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t much feel like going to jail for indecent exposure.”

  “You sure?” I asked, sliding my hand through my shorts and right to my wet pussy. Dammit. I shouldn’t have done that.

  “How often do you do that?”

  “Do what?” I feigned ignorance, applying circular pressure to my pulsating nub.

  “Play with your pussy?” he asked, coming to his knees in front of me.

  “Daily, sometimes several times a day, sometimes once a day,” I explained lifting my head to his. The new upright angle was the perfect position to slide a couple fingers in. I moaned in his mouth as I rubbed below.

  “Make it come,” Sam whispered to my lips, opening my knees a little with his hands. Sam unbuttoned my shorts and slid down the zipper. That helped a lot. My fingers danced on my clit while he watched the movement. It didn’t even matter that he couldn’t see. It was just as erotic with the cloth barrier as it would have been had I been naked and exposed.

  As soon as my lips parted and I sucked in that first breath of a whimper, Sam covered my mouth with his and I came in my hand, moaning in his mouth. Pulling my hand from my shorts, Sam sucked three fingers into his mouth, bringing the lingering effects of an orgasm home.

  “You’re so bad,” Sam accused, kissing my lips.

  “You just sucked my pussy off my fingers. You’re the bad one.”

  “I wasn’t bad before I met you. You’ve corrupted me.”

  “You love it,” I countered, leaning into him.

  Relieving myself helped with conversation a lot. I was able to talk to him without thinking about the throbbing between my legs. At first, it was just small talk—his family, the charter plane we had at our disposal anytime we wanted, my sports car, and then he asked me about my fantasies. Why I wanted him to do the things I did.

  “You’ve only done two of them,” I reminded him. “You still haven’t put it in my ass.”

  “Don’t you worry about that. I work under my own rules, not yours. What else? Besides the fact that you want me to fuck you up the ass, what else do you want?”

  “A threesome.”

  “Two guys?”

  “No. I want to fuck a girl, but I want a guy there, too.”

  “Hell yeah, I’ll do that,” he laughed.

  “Yeah, isn’t that every guy’s fantasy?” I asked, taking the last beer.

  “You’re sharing that,” Sam assured me. “Heck yeah. What guy wouldn’t want two hot chicks at once?”

  “Good, got any candidates?”

  “I’m a second-grade teacher. What do you think? Guess we’ll just have to focus on that ass thing,” he teased. Damn him…

  Saying goodbye to Sam that night was hard. It was like we were never going to see each other again. Like it was going to be longer than a week. I didn’t want to say goodbye.

  “Call me if you can,” Sam called, staring after me.

  I didn’t look back. I raised my hand in the air, letting him know I heard.

  I stumbled up the steps and giggled. I guess five beers of my own were a bit much. I turned back to see Garrison studying me over the brim of his dark-framed glasses, and giggled again.

  It’s funny how people become creatures of habit. Birds of a feather flock together. Being back home in Connecticut, I fell right back into my role. I bitched out the housekeeper for a streak on a glass-top table, yelled at the delivery guy for dropping my package, and snapped at Olivia as soon as she answered my call.

  “Hello, Mrs. Ashby. How was your vacation?”

  “Too short. Are you coming here to help me with this Fourth of July catering thing or not?”

  “Did you ask me to?”

  “I’m asking now. Do you have a ride or should I come pick you up?”

  “I’m babysitting today. Can we do it tomorrow?”

  “I’m going to be home all week. Are you going to be able to come and take care of things around here, or should I find someone else?”

  “No, ma’am. I can do it. I can come today, but I would have to bring my cousin’s daughter. She’s seven; she wouldn’t be any trouble. She’s very good.”

  “No! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  Olivia d
idn’t need a you’re welcome from me. I’m sure she wasn’t expecting it. The nerve of that girl. Did she really think she was going to bring a child in my home? I sighed audibly, looking around the mansion. It was eerily quiet. I hadn’t been home a day yet and already missed the sounds of the ocean, The Strip, and GRRRR, I missed Sam. Garrison didn’t even come in the house with me. He had stuff to do.

  I sat out by the pool and had lunch. Gina didn’t make my tuna salad the way Olivia did and I sent her away with it. She could try again. I wasn’t paying her to half-ass things around here.

  After eating the sandwich that still wasn’t as good as the way Olivia made it, I sipped wine and slid my dark shades over my eyes. The first thing I had to see behind my dark eyes was Sam, but not his face. My eyes focused on his erection, how hard it always felt, and the pre-come at the tip of his head. I knew there was a visibly darkening stain showing through the thin white encasement on my bikini. I squirmed a bit, thinking about Sam’s cock sliding inside me.

  “Hi, Mrs. Ashby,” I heard the voice above my head. I knew right away that it was my young, college-boy neighbor. Oh, did I mention good-looking young neighbor? Lifting my shades, I smiled up at Christian. I should have been ashamed of myself, looking at him that way. I watched the young lad grow for the last six or so years.

  “Hello, Christian. Home from school?”

  “Yeah, I was just wondering if you happened to see Clementine. She ran off again.”

  “No, sorry. I haven’t,” I replied, letting my right knee fall to the side a little. I wanted Christian to see the wetness I felt between my legs. I gave him the perfect opportunity with my open legs and dropped sunglasses. Just like I knew the horny boy would do, he took the chance with my dark shades covering my eyes and looked down. I took the opportunity to add fuel to the fire.

  Swaying my knee back and forth, I caught him looking down at my wetness four times while I asked trivial questions about his stupid dog, and then school, trying to keep him there long enough to see it. I could see Christian’s erection forming, bigger and bigger, harder and harder, angled up and to the right of his khaki shorts. He couldn’t see where my eyes lingered, but I could see his. My pussy throbbed like mad, watching the boy’s shorts tighten before my eyes.