Hot Girls keep it in the Family – J.L. Ash
Hot Girls keep it in the Family
J.L. ASH
Parker-ex Walker cousin and Gennifer
Finally, my schooling is over for Registered Medical Assistant, and all I want to do now is celebrate with my boyfriend of five years and watch a movie with just us two.
Of course, Parker doesn’t want to do that, though.
He wants to go to some party down the block instead of spending any amount of time with me.
I pull into his trailer park with a sigh.
It’s been six months since we’ve been on a date.
Six. Yet, I still stick around, like one day he might change.
It doesn’t matter how many times my mother has told me he’s trash, and what do we do with trash?
We take it out. But that’s easier said than done when love is blinding you.
I put the car in park, grab my crossover purse, and my overnight bag.
I brought a few surprises for my celebration.
Hopefully, he won’t be too tired tonight after the party.
I just want a good fuck and some time spent with me so that I can relax for once.
He’s only twenty-three, but lately it’s like he can’t stay awake to save his life.
Not to mention, he can’t keep his dick hard long enough for me to actually use it.
Before I can even get out of the car, Parker is barreling down the steps toward my car and slipping into the passenger seat. “Hey, baby. You ready to party?”
I groan, gripping the steering wheel tightly before turning my gaze toward his. “Don’t I need to bring my stuff inside?”
He shakes his head, grabs my bag, and tosses it in the back seat, then he leans over the console for a kiss. “We might be too trashed to come back home tonight, baby. Better to just bring your stuff with you.”
As much as I am aggravated with him, I still lean over and plant my lips on his.
I can still remember the moment I fell in love with this stupid man.
I was only fifteen years old. Most people would say that’s still a child, but I didn’t think I was one anymore.
I was ready to party with the rest of the adults, just like anyone else.
I was at one of my dad’s motorcycle parties as usual.
That’s how I spent most weekend nights, and hell, most nights during the week as well.
My dad lived and breathed the club, and that meant I did too.
Parker was my dad’s best friend's son, and so for the longest time, Parker wanted me to be his girlfriend. He tried and tried to get me to say yes. But I just didn’t want to fuck up anything for my dad if things went sideways. The club comes first after all.
That night, though, after the adults were so sloshed they no longer cared what we were up to, we all went upstairs and played truth or dare.
I did truth for most of the night without anyone giving me too much hell.
They knew what my father would do if they tried to force me to do something I didn’t want to do.
But that didn’t stop Parker from choosing dare.
And when he was dared to kiss me, he wasted no damn time.
He scooped me up in his arms, planted his lips against mine, and I saw stars.
That was it for us. I was his, and he was mine.
For the most part.
Pulling myself from my memories of him, I force the feelings of anger down. But they don’t stay there for long. I put the car in reverse and grumble something under my breath, which has Parker snapping his gaze to mine.
“What’s your problem? If you want to go put your stuff inside the house, then do it, but get off your high horse.” He seethes.
I slam the car in park and turn toward him.
“Really, Parker. I thought it was just going to be us celebrating, but no, you wanted to go hang out with your cousin. One that you don’t even see. And why is that?” I scream and lift my hands off the steering wheel and slap the dashboard.
Out of nowhere, his hand grips my throat, pressing me against the backrest. I slap at his hand, attempting to get him off of me, but it’s no use.
I’ve noticed lately he's been more frustrated when I’m around. I blamed it on his job, but he is off this weekend, so his sour mood is not because of that.
“Parker.” My voice is hoarse saying his name, his hand still tightening around my throat. Then it’s like he snaps out of it when he really looks into my eyes.
“Damn, sorry, babe. I don’t know what came over me.” He quickly pulls his hand away and shifts in his seat.
But that doesn’t stop me from pushing his shoulder roughly. “Don’t ever put your hands on me again,” I say. “What’s the stupid address?”
He gives it to me, and once it’s typed into my phone's GPS, I place it in my dashboard holder and pull out of his driveway.
His hand comes across the console and rests on my knee before squeezing it lightly. Then he inches higher up my thigh, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me. He knows that when I’m pissed, if he just grovels with sex I’ll forgive him faster. What can I say? I fucking like sex.
I hold my breath as he inches beneath my shorts closer to my pussy.
I instinctively spread my legs wider, keeping my eyes on the road as he moves my panties to the side and slips his fingers inside me.
A hiss escapes my mouth as he makes contact with my clit, and my leg twitches slightly.
I can see the smirk on his lips from the corner of my eye. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
Heat pools in my stomach as he works my clit faster, dragging me closer and closer to the edge. My legs start to shake so bad that I’m terrified that my foot is going to come off the gas.
“Relax and let it ride out. Your pussy is so wet for me, baby.” He says while he continues to pump his fingers inside me, and the friction of his palm puts pressure on my clit.
A whimper escapes my lips as I hold on tightly to the steering wheel. “Harder,” I grit through my teeth.
His fingers start to move faster inside me.
He lifts up, hitting that sweet spot that drives me out of my fucking head.
My body starts to tremble as the buildup continues inside me.
I’m so close. I tighten my thighs around his arm, holding him right where I need him.
My senses are on super overload, and I’m about to hit my climax.
“Don’t stop, Parker. I’m right there.” I shudder.
I bite my lip, and my thighs tighten more.
“Parker!” I scream as I fall over the edge, my eyes closing slightly before I realize I’m still driving.
I feel like I’m floating above the clouds. I loosen my thighs and breathe heavily. I’m a sweaty mess, and my panties are a wet mess.
“They don’t call me ‘Magic Fingers’ for nothing.” He says.
My body is too drained to argue with what he just said, and plus, I need to get us to our destination in one piece.
His phone starts to buzz. To my demise, he pulls the hand that’s still resting on my inner thigh away to answer it.
Who is that important? Couldn't he wait?
Two minutes later, I pull onto Culp Street.
It’s a wrap-around housing development with only a few houses on it.
As I ride by, I notice all the neighbors are sitting on their porch with a drink in their hand while they talk.
I don’t have to know which house his cousins are in.
There are about twenty cars parked in the grass and on the paved driveway.
The music is already beating from the house.
Crowds of people are spread all through the yard with cups in hand and dancing.
Some are on the porch and leaning against the railing.
“Parker, there are a lot of people. You know I don’t like a large crowd.” I say, riding into the lawn where there is an open spot between two other cars.
Parker opens the door after I cut it off and grabs my overnight bag and purse.
“Um, what are you doing? We are not going back to your place?” I ask.
He sticks his head back in the doorway. “Just in case we both get hammered and can’t drive, we will just spend the night.”
I groan. First, going to a party where I do not know anyone, and now we might be staying the night. Great. There goes all my plans of fucking for the night.
“Sounds fun.” I sarcastically say.
I open my door and slam it. Parker is already a few feet in front of me. Wow, such a dickhead, didn’t even fucking wait for me.
I follow behind him through the parked cars till we finally get to the walkway that heads to the porch. Parker speaks to a few guys and squeezes their shoulders with a hello.
No one looks familiar to me. I keep my eyes on the back of Parker's head and make sure I don’t get left.
The living room is filled with packed couples saluting this redneck song, ‘Take this job and shove it, I ain’t working here no more.’ I know this by heart; it is one of my dad’s favorite songs, sung by David Allan Coe.
I open my mouth to sing it by habit, but shut it before a word gets out. I will not have fun here. Nope, I want to be a typical childish bitch for not getting my way.
As we move around the living room, I start scoping it out.
All the walls are white, no picture frames or anything.
Just plain dingy white walls. The furniture has seen its better days, and the center coffee table in front of the couch no longer holds its wood color; it’s turning grey.
I shake my head. We continue through the living room into the small kitchen that has no tables or chairs.
Crowds of people are leaning against the old wooden kitchen cabinets, talking amongst themselves.
I continue to follow my boyfriend, who at this moment is smiling and waving at everyone like he is some kind of celebrity.
Parker opens the screen back door while we walk outside to the backyard.