9. Nine
Nine
Betsy
Hot water streams down my body as I lean against the shower wall, my mind racing.
Years of feeling like my stepdad saw me as the ugly duckling, as something to be hidden, get dumped on their head.
Tonight, the way he looked at me, touched me, claimed me, changed everything.
You’re mine. His words echo in my head, sending shivers despite the steamy shower. Was I wrong all along? Maybe his protectiveness wasn’t about shielding an ugly duckling from the world but keeping something precious all to himself.
The actions of a man struggling with forbidden desires.
Could it be that simple? That all this time, while I was feeling unworthy, he saw me as forbidden fruit, the same way I saw him?
My legs go weak and I slide down to sit on the shower floor, hugging my knees.
Or am I fooling myself? Maybe tonight was desperation—a last resort to adhere to the contract and get me out of the sex club. But God, his warmth felt as real as this shower. The raw need in his voice, the way his control finally snapped.
And Rocky… My stomach flutters at how natural it felt to be with both of them. The jealousy in Rocky’s expression as he helped me off of Bull, then cleaned me. The thought of more nights like this, of a life with them—as more than a stepdaughter or niece—it’s my deepest fantasy.
Possibilities take flight.
I step out of the shower, toweling off while eyeing my midnight-blue Starry Night pajama set inspired by van Gogh. Long sleeves and drawstring pants aren’t the right vibe.
Instead, I grab the Dream Big t-shirt Jasmine gave me last Christmas and slip it on with a simple pair of silky blue panties underneath.
My damp hair drips trails over my shoulders as I check my reflection. For the first time, the woman staring back appears beautiful. I trace the gentle curves of my body with newfound confidence.
With bare feet, I pad across the landing and down the stairs. Both men look up as I descend, their faces slack.
Bull chokes, although he doesn’t have food or drink to choke on. Rocky stands, strides to the bottom of the stairs, and extends a hand before I’m even halfway down. He’s awaiting his princess.
“Go upstairs and put some clothes on.” Bull’s voice comes out, devoid of attraction or acceptance. “Then we’ll talk.”
Talk? My stomach drops.
“But—”
“Now, Betsy.”
My fantasy swan dives. The confidence from before withers under his stern gaze. Maybe what happened at the club was simply about the contract after all?
I turn and flee upstairs, cheeks burning. The naughty thoughts that it would be my lower cheeks after a playful spanking feel shameful. Stupid, stupid girl. I’m still just the kid they need to protect.
Stubbing my toe on a step, I stop and rub the pain away. I take the hint. Don’t run from the pain. Face it head on.
We’re going to talk alright.
I spin around, parade myself down the stairs, slipping past a stunned Rocky, and straddle the arm of an oversized chair so that I’m spread shamelessly in front of Bull. “What would you like to talk about, Daddy? The fact that it’s Rocky’s turn?”
Rocky chokes this time. Bull cuts in. “Put proper clothes on and stop calling me that.”
Am I too old to be spanked? It’s worth a shot. “Fine, Dad.” I shift my attention to Rocky. “Would you like to be my Daddy?”
“Knock it off, right now, young lady.” He’s so firm, but it’s the wrong kind.
I want him to be all growly bear in a different way. And I have an idea… “Tell me why you buried your face between my legs. Why you kissed me. Why you grinded yourself against me, making a mess of all of us. Publicly. And now, in the privacy of our home, you’re afraid of a pair of panties.”
“I snapped,” Bull barks out, then leans forward, elbows on knees, his face in his hands. Softer, he says, “I’m not proud of that. I’d been trying to figure out how to uphold the contract, and then I saw you… I should have controlled myself. Found another way.”
Urgh! He snapped. Why couldn’t he stay broken? I scoff. “I’m disappointed that Laz considered that enough. Technically, no one put a penis in me yet.”
Bull looks up, his face reddened, a vein throbbing in his temple.
I’m fired up. Is this how Jasmine feels when she gets going? I keep my energy high. “Okay, technically , you did a tiny bit for like one thrust.”
“And that was too much. Our relatives wouldn’t understand. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m taking advantage of you.”
Rocky tries to interject, but Bull cuts him off with a sharp gesture. “Not now, Rocky.”
I tilt my head, studying Bull. “It’s interesting that you’re already thinking in terms of telling the family we’re together.” I lean in, my voice steady. “I just want to get fucked. Is that so hard to understand?”
Bull recoils. “Language!”
“What? You can go down on me in front of a crowd, but I can’t say fuck ?” My bravado is giving me wings.
Rocky paces behind the couch. “Bull, maybe we should listen—”
“Stay out of this, Rocky,” Bull snaps, his gaze locked onto me. “This is about what’s right.”
I laugh, a bit maniacally. “What’s right? You think pretending last night didn’t happen is right? I’d bet the people watching thought it looked pretty right, Daddy.”
Bull’s jaw clenches. “It can’t happen again. Not with me. Not with Rocky.”
My voice shakes with frustration. “Why not, Bull?” I emphasize his name. “Because you’re my stepdad? Or because you’re scared?”
He looks away, his silence speaking volumes. I turn to Rocky, pleading. “Rocky, talk to him. Make him see reason.”
Rocky stops pacing, his expression torn. “We could do this. We’re home. No one would know.”
“And then what?”
“We don’t have to know that yet.”
Does he share the wild ideas about what the three of us could do? He has Bull talking.
Rather than add to the verbal argument, I get a different idea. “I’m going to make coffee. Anyone want a cup?”