Chapter 1 #2
God, how that endearment grates on my nerves and makes it all worse.
I want to be called a good girl, but not by him.
I want it growled in the dark as hot, thick fingers fist my hair, as my lips stretch around a massive cock and I worship it like the good, little, slutty omega I know is somewhere inside me.
I want to hear it when I'm on my knees with tears streaming down my face, gagging on an Alpha's dick while he pets my hair and tells me how well I'm taking him.
But from my dad? It's just patronizing and infantilizing.
Not to mention a complete mood killer, removing any lingering trace of arousal dripping through me from my afternoon interlude.
Shaking my head, I finally find my headphones and drop them on the bed. "Is there anything else you need?"
"Nate's coming home. Just wanted you to know. He's taken leave for a few weeks, so it will be like old times again. Isn't that great?"
My stomach drops. "Yes," I murmur. "Just perfect. The best way to spend my winter break before the spring semester."
"There now!" he booms out, covering up an extra loud groan from the boy toy next door. "I knew you'd be excited. I'll let your mother know. Love you, sweetheart. See you soon. Good luck on your exams. Remember, you got to—"
"Keep my grades up," I intone, cutting him off. "I know, Dad. You tell me every time."
"And you keep getting good grades because I tell you every time. I'm sure you want to keep your freedom out there, so, what…?" he trails off.
"Good grades and no boys."
"Exactly. Bye, sweetheart."
Winter break. Dad. My stepmother. Nate. A full house. Even now, the pit in my stomach expands so much I worry I'll be swallowed whole. How many years has it been now? Ever since he joined the military, I think I’ve seen him once? Maybe twice?
Each time, it was always tense, always stilted. Or it could just be me. It’s not like we got all that close when he came into the family. His mom, or rather, my mom too, as dad insists, isn't all that bad. But Nate can be insufferable. At least, what little I remember.
He's probably still that irritating guy, only now made more annoying by being the big bad Alpha overseas defending our freedom. People don’t change all that much. They think they do, but in reality, it’s just their true selves coming out of hiding.
By the time I press end on the call, cold sweat beads on my forehead.
Unfortunately, that was the wake-up call I shouldn't have needed.
Here I am, liberty in the balance, and I got off instead of prepping for my test…
a test in a class I'm just not even passing.
If I don't ace this final, I don't make the grade.
If I don't make the grade, I'm forced back home.
Tears gather in my eyes as I look at the chemistry formulas swimming in and out of focus. I'd like to think Dad wouldn't pull me out and make me study at home over one bad class, but I can't chance that. It's the only freedom I have, the only way I can be unrestricted for a little bit.
I nibble the edge of my nail as I flip through the pages and search for the terms I'm struggling with on the internet, but still, nothing helps. As much as I hate depending on yet another man, I know exactly who to call. It's the call I've been dreading since I took this stupid class.
The school tutor hasn't helped. Been there, done that. Nothing he says makes sense either. But try telling that to my dad. If I just work hard, my grades will reflect that. Well, case in point, that doesn’t always work.
Ugh. So stupid. I should have just swallowed my pride and called Nate earlier, but I thought I could do it. I thought I could handle it. Now, here I am at the last second, praying for a Hail Mary.
Picking my phone back up, I dial the one number I've been avoiding as much as I can—Nathaniel Vance, my stepbrother, military chemist or something like that.
At this point, I don't know which option I'd consider lucky.
Would he actually answer and help me? Would he be too busy and I wouldn't have to have an awkward conversation with him so soon before winter break?
Questions pepper my brain as it rings, and I almost squeak in surprise at his rough, grumbled, "Hello?"
When the hell did that happen? Or has he always sounded like rumbled exhaust pouring from a vintage car?
It slithers down my spine and causes my clit to pulse, just for a moment, just until I scream at my brain that it's my stepbrother and I should have already gotten over this stupid crush years ago.
"You there?" he asks, scattering my thoughts again.
"Y- yes. Hi. Sorry. Are you free?"
His low, deep chuckle skitters over my skin until goosebumps explode across my arms. Bad. This is very bad. What the fuck is wrong with me?
"I don't know,” he laughs. “I'm a pretty busy guy, but for you, I think I can make an exception. It must be serious for you to call me. What's going on? How can I help you?"
"Chemistry," I blurt out.
“Chemistry?” he questions back in that low, deep voice of his that has me questioning every thought going through my mind. “Chemistry can encompass a lot. Are you having boy trouble or equations trouble?”
Why did he have to ask it like that? Plopping my head in my hands, I force myself to breathe. Deep, even, calm.
"I have a final,” I say once I’m back under control. “And I'm bombing this class. I think I remember you saying you were good at it. Am I remembering correctly? Please say you can help me?"
Try as I might to be cool, calm, and confident, I find myself babbling in a way that causes my insides to clench with humiliation. He's my stepbrother. An annoying Alpha. That's it.
He's the same jerk who hid my papers and pencils. He's the one who would dunk me in the pool and make me fight him to get a breath of air. He's the dork who was obsessed with martial arts movies and acted them out whenever he got the chance.
He's not hot.
He's not available.
He's not what I want.
Besides, he's in the military. Those guys are just dumb jocks. I want a suave man who can sweep me off my feet, who can charm me with words. Not someone whose idea of a great time is flicking you on the back of the ear then darting away.
"I'm okay at it," he chuckles, breaking into my thoughts. "At least that's what they tell me at work." Even over the phone, I swear I can hear that smug expression I'm sure he's wearing.
Ugh. I really need to get laid if he's what my body responds to.
Unfortunately, that's not going to happen.
Not any time soon, at least. I wonder if I can just buy some toys and trick my body into thinking it has what it needs until I'm free from school, free from Dad, and free to make my own choices without scrutiny.
Maybe a thick silicone cock that can fill me properly, make me feel something other than pathetically empty. God knows my fingers aren't cutting it.
Besides, if I order now, it'll get here before I leave, and I won't have Dad sniffing around the suspicious package until I'm forced to reveal his "Little Lily" is nothing more than a horny young adult who just needs a good fuck. That I’m an omega who needs to be bent over and used until I can't think straight.
No, not a fuck. I just need something to take the edge off.
"You there, Little Lily?" he breathes, making me see red and forcing slick to gather between my thighs all at once. "How can I help?"
There it is. Little. Fucking. Lily.