Falling Under (Falling 3)
Page 37“After school tomorrow. We’ll buy some. And…if you’re for real about being with me, you might want to think about getting on birth control. I hate to sound like I’m telling you what to do, and I know it’s, like, killing the mood or whatever but—I just want to be careful.” I fall to my back beside Kylie.
She takes a moment to collect herself, then rolls to her side. “No, you’re right. Will you go with me? To get me on birth control?”
I nod. “Yeah. Of course.”
She touches my chest, her hand roaming across my pecs and down to my stomach. “We can do other things, though, right?” She touches one finger to the tip of my rigid cock.
I grin at her. “Yeah, sweetness. We can do anything you want.”
“Anything?” she asks. I nod. “Then will you…god, I’m gonna die. Will you do that thing? With your mouth?”
“Say it, and I will.”
She bites her lip. “Lick my pu**y, Oz. Please?”
I growl, turned on to epic proportions by her erotic words. “Fuck me, Kylie. That’s hot. Say it again.”
“Then what?” I swipe her opening with my tongue.
“Then?” she gasps as I flick her clit. “Then I’m gonna suck your cock, and I’m going to make you come in my mouth. And I’m going to swallow every drop.”
“Holy shit…” I have to remember to breathe. “God, Kylie. You talking like that makes me crazy.”
There’s no room for words then, no breath, no time. I’m eating her out, driving her wild with my mouth, slipping a finger inside her and feeling her writhe. Her pu**y is hot and damp and ready for me, her motions jagged and desperate as I bring her to the brink of orgasm, slow to back her away, and then push her over the edge with two fingers inside her and my tongue circling her clit. She comes around me, her thighs clenching my head and her juices flowing thick and slick and wet. Barely a moment after she’s come, Kylie has me on my back and she’s got my c**k in her mouth and she’s working me with her hands, and I’m lost to her control, in thrall to her touch. I give in completely, don’t hold back. She takes her time, stroking and licking and sucking and I’m crazy, wild, arching and groaning, and she’s loving every second of it, glancing up at me every now and then, joy and pride and excitement on her face as she watches my helpless reactions.
I gasp a warning as I feel my release approaching, and she takes my thick, aching c**k in both hands and wraps her lips around my head and sucks with vacuum force, and I explode violently. She’s surprised, but she takes it all, her fists plunging on me, her mouth and throat working.
She fumbles for the blanket, tugs it over us, nestles into my shoulder, and murmurs something inaudible. We’re floating, drifting. Sleepy, sated, happy.
This moment, here with Kylie Calloway, it’s the single best moment of my life.
EIGHT: Lost Chances and Hard Choices
It’s well past midnight, and Kylie isn’t home. The open mic night ended hours ago, and I’m fighting the urge to worry, to get angry. She doesn’t have a set curfew, since there’s never been a need. She’s a responsible kid usually. My brain is whirling, worrying me with possible scenarios. They got in an accident. They’re off doing drugs. They’re having sex. Not knowing what she’s doing is making me crazy, and not knowing what I’m supposed to do when she gets back is making me crazier. Should I just trust her? Should I interrogate her? Demand the truth? Ground her? Forbid her from seeing him?
I know none of those will work. She’s about to turn eighteen. We’ve always tried to give Kylie as much freedom as we could, and she’s always been responsible. She’s never had a serious boyfriend, and she’s only been on a few dates. And now this Oz character shows up out of the blue, and she’s suddenly with him all the time. And he’s everything a father worries about for his daughter. He’s me, in so many ways, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be the father of the girls I dated as a young man. I was reckless, wild, irresponsible. I lived alone, answered to no one, followed no rules. It wasn’t until Nell and I got together that I started giving a f**k about anything.
But I can’t keep her from him. He’s given me no reason to distrust him, and I of all people know better than to judge him on the fact that he has tattoos and a piercing and rides a motorcycle, or that he comes from a rough background, that he’s clearly seen violence, that his fists have drawn blood. I recognize my own kind in him, and that scares the shit out of me. But I’m here, a father, a successful musician and now producer, a husband for the last nineteen years.
I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. But I don’t have to like it.
And I don’t.
I’m in the driveway, indulging in a rare cigarette. I gave them up years ago, but every once in a while I have one. When I’m super stressed, or after especially intense sex with Nell. She knows I smoke every once in a while, and she’s fine with it, as long as I don’t make it a habit. I glance across the street at Jason and Becca’s house, and I see the glow of a cell phone on the front porch, lighting up Ben’s face.
As I notice him, he shoots to his feet, stalks with angry, stomping steps down the driveway, running his hand through his close-cropped hair. He’s agitated, pissed off. I cross the street, tossing the butt into a drain.
“Hey, Ben. What’s up?” I stop a few feet from him, and I can see he’s beyond pissed, frantic, raging.
I hesitate. “Um. She’s…not home.” I’m pretty sure I know what’s eating him, and I’m not sure I should get in the middle of it.
“Yeah, I know. But do you know where she is?”
I clear my throat, blink, hunt for a good answer.
“She’s with him, isn’t she?”
I can’t lie to him. “Yeah. She is.”
“Fuck. I knew it.” He rubs his face with both hands, tilts his head back, spins in place, and groans. “I don’t get it. What the f**k does she see in that tool?”
“Ben, I’m not sure this is a conversation I can have with you.” I wish I knew what to say, how to bring him down from this angry place. But I don’t.