Chapter Seven
? Dominic ?
Something’s wrong.
I don’t know what, but it hangs over the table, over the heads of the people I care about with a weighty darkness that overshadows the conversation taking place. It’s an ashy smog that fills my lungs as I glance from Nicolas to Isla.
Both are seated across from each other, focused with full concentration on their plates. But Nick looks on the verge of smashing his across the room while Isla keeps chasing the same carrot around the plate with her fork like someone crushed her heart.
I hate it.
Hate the downward tilt of her lips, the faint gleam of defeat. She hasn’t put a single thing in her mouth, despite not having eaten anything all day. I hate the way she keeps sneaking glances towards the window like she wishes she could crawl out into the night and run.
I don’t blame her. If I had Macie as my mother, I would also want to escape.
The woman is insufferable. Manipulating.
Cruel beneath that airhead smile. While she has never been any of those things with literally anyone else, I’m not blind or stupid.
I’ve seen how she treats Isla like some unwanted stepchild.
Oh, sure, she hides it well. She puts on a good face for the world as a fun, quirky mom just doing her best. But beneath the giggles and stupid glass figurines, she’s cold, dismissive.
I understand why Isla runs. Why she hides from everyone.
How can anyone expect her to feel safe when she has nowhere to be safe?
I want to be her safe place. Me and Nick. I want us to make her want to stay. It won’t be easy when running is a default, but I know if she’d let us, if Nick let us, we’d be so fucking happy. I know it. I saw it.
The moment I rounded that corner and found them half naked, peering into each other’s eyes, I knew I was right.
It wasn’t just the sex, which had shocked the fuck out of me to witness.
It was the way Nick’s face had softened when peering down at her.
It was the tender way he pulled her panties from between her teeth.
It wouldn’t make sense to anyone else, but I know Nick. I know how hard it is for him to trust, to let his guard down, especially once he’s made his mind up about something.
Yet, he touched her without being prompted. He more than touched her. I only came in on the last tail of things, but I watched the thick glob of his release pool out of her swollen pussy and I nearly whooped with joy.
Every year we come here, I pray for him to finally make the first move.
Every single year. It’s been long enough that I was beginning to think it would never happen so seeing that had been a dream come true.
Only… my usually grumpy boyfriend is going through something.
Guilt, I’m guessing. I don’t think he regrets what we did, but he definitely wishes he could change what happened.
Maybe that’s regret. I don’t know, but the hum of tension is making my asshole itch.
“What do you think, Nicky?”
I despise when Macie calls Nicky — my Nicky — Nicky. He’s not Nicky. He’s Nicolas. Always has been. The only time it hasn’t pissed me off is when Isla said it. But she’s allowed.
My boyfriend lifts his chin and turns his face down the table to where Macie is watching him with her expectant little smile.
“Pardon?”
I hear the hard edges of annoyance in the single word. Macie does not.
“I was saying it would be so great if you and Dominic went to pick a tree up.”
There is no need to glance at my boyfriend to feel the full weight of his irritation wafting off him as he stares down the table at where his stepmom is watching him with that airhead smile. Nick is barely blinking.
“Dad gets the tree every year,” he states with the same accusation one would show a murderer.
Macie doesn’t notice.
“Macie needs help with your uncle. It wouldn’t be feasible at this time,” Walter explains, sawing into his pork chop with a knife. “We’ve picked trees together before. You know what I look for.”
Macie bobs her head like one of those bobblehead toys stuck to a dashboard.
“You can take Jacob’s truck. The bed is perfect to strap a tree down for the long drive.”
“Long drive?” Nick and I both ask at the same time.
“To the cabin,” Walker reminds us. “We’ve decided to have the Christmas party up there this year. It’s isolated, quiet, and far enough away that people will feel inclined to leave early.”
“Walker!” Macie gasps. “That is not at all the point.”
The man gives a careless shrug. “Sounds like the perfect Christmas to me.”
His wife glowers at him a long moment before facing us. “It’ll be a nice change of scenery. I’m going to finish up all the goodies here since electricity is unreliable out there while you three help by setting up the tree and decorating.”
“Three?” Nick interjects.
“Isla will go with you,” she volunteers, motioning to her daughter. “It’ll be nice for her to get some fresh air.”
I like the idea immediately.
Me, Nick and Isla alone for several days. It sounds like heaven to me.
But Nick’s knuckles have gone pale around his fork. Isla has gone rigid, staring into her plate. Both remind me of prisoners being given their death sentence.
“I don’t think they need me—” Isla begins slowly.
“I have a lot to do the next few days,” Macie snaps in a tone that sets my teeth on edge. “And you have caused enough trouble. A little time away might give us all some peace.”
It occurs to me to ask what exactly Isla has done to warrant getting booted off the metaphorical island, but Jacob takes this opportunity to grunt and wiggle in his seat like an overgrown toddler.
“I know I could use a drink,” he voices loudly. “I’m just all shook up. I’ve never been attacked before.”
Attacked my ass.
I barely touched the fucker. He backed too far, lost his damn balance in the stairs and tumbled. That’s his fault. He broke his own leg.
Besides the leg, there isn’t another scratch on him, which is more than he deserves for the things he said to Isla.
But Macie is out of her chair before he even finishes.
“Let me get that.”
The task is all hers when no one else even attempts to get up.
She hurries from the room and I glance at the man in question.
The piece of shit who thought calling Isla a whore was a good idea.
Sure, she may be Daddy’s whore, but that’s different.
She’s mine, and I’ll chew on broken glass before letting anyone else say it.
“How’s the leg, Jake?” I taunt.
“Dom,” Nick warns under his breath.
I ignore him.
Part of me hopes the asshole gives me another reason to take him outside. Maybe I’ll break the other one. Put him in a chair.
“I should have told the sheriff what you done,” the shriveled husk of monkey testicles gripes.
I arch a brow. “Want me to get the phone?”
“Dominic,” Nick snaps. “Enough.”
Jacob smirks. “Best listen to him, boy.”
It’s Isla pushing back her chair and gathering up her plate that stills the not so dinner appropriate words hot on my tongue.
She doesn’t say a word when leaving the room just as Macie returns with a tumbler of whiskey.
She sets it in front of Jacob and says something I’m not listening to as I watch Isla disappear around the corner.
I don’t follow right away.
I sit and listen to the chatter. To the mindless drivel.
Jacob is milking his injury for all it’s worth.
Macie is eating it up, practically offering to service him right at the table.
Walter makes no comment to anyone about anything while finishing his food with the satisfied peace of a man who is content to simply exist.
Nick mutters something about needing the bathroom and pushes away from the table.
My idiot brain gets excited by the prospect of him finding Isla, bending her over the sink and fucking her pussy, but he actually heads towards the bathroom and my excitement sinks.
It’s exhausting being the only person with sense.
I rise and gather my dishes. Halfway down the hall, I hear the water running and the clink and clatter of dishes.
Isla stands at the sink. Back to the door. Her dark hair is woven down her back, a thick braid against the soft purple of her sweater. Barefoot and in jeans, she appears so small. So helpless. Like the babysitter in every porn right before she’s being used to take the father’s cum in her cunt.
I need to chill.
I need to calm the fuck down.
But fuck!
With the grace of a cat, I slink up behind her, capture her hips. Her weak little gasp sings through me as I press my face into the column of her throat. My palms find her hips, holding her in place. Not that it’s needed.
Her body instinctively leans into mine.
Her willing compliance pools down to where I need her and I pull her tighter against me.
“Did we hurt you earlier?” I ask, nuzzling the hammering little pulse beneath her satin flesh.
The scent of us is still on her, still a warm tangle of me and Nick with her, and there’s never been a greater smell. A smell that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Isla shakes her head.
“Do you want me to stop?”
I follow the hem of her top to the waistband of her jeans. My fingertips brush the warm skin where the two part. I skim to the buttons on her jeans. Listen to her soft little inhale of my name.
“Yes or no, baby?” I trace her jawline with my lips. “Do you want me to touch your sweet, little pussy?”
She’s trembling, but she gives a helpless little, “Yes, please.”
I groan into her ear. “Such a good girl. Having you spread open is all I can think about. Seeing your tight hole stretched around my boyfriend’s fat dick and you taking every inch like the perfect little whore you are…”
She gives a violent shiver that goes straight to my cock. I roll her top over her pretty tits. They’re cupped in lace and pushed up in offering. So plump and full. Milkable tits. Fuckable.
They push into my palms with the arching of her spine, and I groan in her ear.
“I want to watch them bounce as you ride my cock.” I tug the lace down just enough for the pebbled nipples to peek over the top. “I want to suck on them when they’re full of milk.”
Isla makes a weak little sound of compliance.
I snap open her jeans. Fit my hand inside. Down her panties. Between her folds.
“Dom…”
She’s a hot, sticky mess that I impale on two fingers.
“Try again.”
My baby whines and drops her head against my shoulder.
“Daddy, please.”
I nip on her earlobe with my teeth. “Open for Daddy. Let me feel how ready you are.”
Her feet spread, giving my hand room to move inside her slick heat. To pump and wedge my thumb against her clit.
“Still dripping all that cum you let us put inside you.” I palm her breast with my free hand.
Roll the nipple beneath my thumb. “I want more in here. I want to tie you to the bed, ankles wide. Pussy open to get bred over and over all night.” I pound harder.
Faster. I don’t give a fuck who hears the squishy wet of her cunt or her helpless whimpers.
“Daddy’s going to breed you, baby. Going to let your brother mount you.
Put so much cum in my baby’s tight hole you give me—”
She cums with a choked sob. Her cunt flutters and rushes around my fingers. Hot and thick. I snarl into her cheek and grind my leaking cock into the crack of her ass.
“Leave the dishes. I want you in the guesthouse. In my bed. Naked and ready. Now.” I rub her faster. Finger her deeper. “Say, yes, Daddy.”
Her wet fingers sink short nails into my arm even as she rides my palm.
“Yes, Daddy,” she whimpers, cumming again. “Please... please, Daddy.”
I work every last shudder before pulling free. I bring the soaked digits to my lips and suck them clean.
“Going to fuck you raw, Isla. Going to make you walk funny while we pick up the tree tomorrow.”
I take her chin and turn it up to mine. I kiss her long and slow. Taste every moan, every sigh. My thumb traces the warm slope of her cheek, brushes down the line of her jaw, lost in the satin smoothness of her skin.
Only when she’s sagging weakly against me, her every breath labored, do I break our connection. It takes her longer to part her lashes and meet my gaze. Her pupils, dark pits at the heart of her turmoil.
Christ, she’s perfect.
“In one hour, Isla.”
She says nothing, but I brush a finger over her bruised and swollen mouth before I leave to find Nick and tell him our evening plans.
The thick, black cloud hovering over him all afternoon spills out before he does from the washroom. It bubbles across the ceiling and fills the corridor, choking the air.
“What’s going on?” I ask him, blocking his path, arms folded.
He’s not meeting my eye. There’s a spot on the wall to his right that he’s scrutinizing with a seriousness that would have been amusing if he didn’t look so pissed.
“We shouldn’t have come here,” he bites out. “Every year, it’s the same... bullshit.”
He’s careful to keep his voice low. Shredded words he tears through his teeth, but his eyes are screaming. They’re alive with a boiling inferno of heat that almost has me taking back a step.
“What happened?” I press but have a feeling I already know.
“Why do we keep coming here?” he hisses instead, his usually calm composure reduced to bared teeth and eyes the arctic gray of frost. “Dad couldn’t give a shit if we visited or not.
Macie drives me fucking nuts. Jacob…” He lets himself trail off like his feelings towards that piece of shit doesn’t need elaboration.
“We have no reason to keep coming back here.”
That raises my eyebrow. We both know exactly why we’re here. We know why we bother making the effort, and it has nothing to do with the three mentioned.
“You know why,” I remind him gently.
That only seems to agitate him further. His very spine goes rigid, mirroring the fierce clenching of his jaw.
“You need to get over that.”
Both eyebrows spring up. “That?” I mimic, refusing to believe my own ears. “Since when did Isla become a… that we need to get over?”
He scratches hard at his cheek, still refusing to meet my eye. “You know what I mean.”
“Do I?” I counter, cocking my head. “She has always been the goal.”
Furious sparks practically shoot from the gaze he pivots in my direction at last. “Your goal. I told you why it was a bad idea. Why she was a bad idea. Everything about her is chaos, Dom. She’s a walking hazard. Letting her into our lives will destroy everything.”
Nick has always been vocal about his reasons to keep Isla at arm’s length, but this is beyond any conversation we’ve ever had.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I growl out.
The chest I have always loved expands with his deep inhale. “I don’t want her.”