Chapter 3
Autumn
Will stands in front of me, waiting. His dick is still out, jutting forward and ready. I want to put him in my mouth again, but I know more good things are in store for me if I do as he asked.
What did he ask for, though?
I send him a questioning look, and he points to the kitchen counter behind me.
Get naked. Hands on counter. Right.
I hurry to comply, undressing in the uncompromising cool temperature of the basement kitchen.
Cold air caresses my bare skin, but as I place my hands on the granite surface, I immediately feel Will’s warm palms smoothing over my body.
It’s both soothing and arousing at once.
He uses his knee to spread my thighs. Then he lifts his knee higher.
He rubs it, rough with the fabric of his jeans, against my bare pussy.
The friction sends a torrent of delight through me. I moan and rock my hips back. “More…please.”
He chuckles. “Greedy thing.”
“Please,” I whisper.
The rough jeans leave me, but they’re quickly replaced with the smooth head of Will’s cock.
“Your cunt’s so hot, little love.” He presses inside.
I gasp, feeling full, lit up from within.
“So wet,” he says, reaching around to my front to touch my clit and the outer lips of my pussy. “All this is for me, little one?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He pulls out in a slow, slow drag, then thrusts in again. My fingers flex on the granite ledge. I want to touch him, I want to touch myself.
“Don’t let go of that counter, little girl, or you’ll feel the wooden spoon on your ass.”
A part of me is tempted, so very tempted, to let go of the counter, to see if he’d really spank me with the spoon.
I bet I would like it. But when he pushes my head forward, saying, “Watch, baby. Watch how you take Daddy’s cock,” I can only watch the slow glide of his shaft, in and out of my body. I forget everything.
Everything, except for him.
Because right now as he fills me up, stretches me? He’s my Daddy, and Daddy is my world.
It’s so. Fucking. Good.
When he urges me to come all over Daddy’s cock, I do it. And when he pleads with me, tracing the side of my neck with his fingertips, begging for my blood, I tell him it’s his; I’m his.
He bites down, and I come and I come and I come.
We clean up. Eat. He takes me to his bedroom and tucks me in.
We never did fully discuss the issues with the guy Xander was worried about. We never discussed the issues Will is having with Xander, either.
As I drift off to sleep, I wonder if he didn’t distract me from all of our troubles on purpose. It was very effective, but there’s no denying Xander is worried, and I can’t help but wonder if Will and I shouldn’t be worried, too.
Autumn
The next day, I have to venture out for clothes. I need a bank account, too, so I can deposit my first check from Bartleby’s. When I asked to be paid in cash, Kevin shook his head. “I wish I could help you, but I would get audited for that, and it’s more trouble than I can handle, sorry.”
A bank account is surprisingly straightforward, and once it’s set, I walk on foot to the nearest budget department store. I need underwear, pants, shirts.
I wander through the women’s clothing section, tempted to blow all of my money on a gorgeous dress. It’s black and sort of gothic looking with a fitted bodice, but the skirt flares out in a very cute, girlish way. I think Will would like to see me in it.
But I’m a sensible girl and strapped for cash, so I bypass it and fill my arms with sensible things.
A young woman with a kid on her hip is also browsing the clothing section. I catch her glance at me once, but when I look over a second time, she carefully looks away.
Frowning to myself, I move to another section of clothes, examining the selection of swimwear and watching the woman from the corner of my eye.
She keeps looking at me.
I’m wearing the reading glasses the lady gave me at the bus station. I’m wearing her skirt. My hair is pulled up into a baseball cap. It should be enough to keep people from doing a double-take when they see me, right?
Wrong.
The woman ambles over, an apologetic smile on her face. The little kid, who looks maybe a year old, blinks at me.
“Sorry for staring,” the woman says. “You just look so much like that girl on TV.”
“Um…what?” I say, heart pounding.
Hefting her kid from one hip to the other, she says, “You know, Autumn Livingston?”
What should I do? Play dumb? No, that wouldn’t work. “I get that all the time,” I say with a laugh. “I mean, ever since the news, you know?”
“Yeah.” She laughs. Then she leans in close, frowning. “If you are her, are you in trouble?”
I shake my head, step back, try to put some distance between us. The expression on her face is all concern, but what if this woman needs money? She could report me, take that reward money Dale set up. Ten thousand dollars isn’t nothing.
“Sorry,” I say, “I gotta go.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she blurts. “I won’t say anything.”
I wave over my shoulder, grateful for her reassurance, but pissing-my-pants terrified.
I abandon the clothes I’d chosen at a check-out counter, telling the cashier that I forgot my wallet and I’ll be right back.
I won’t be right back, though. I’m never leaving The Corbin again.
This was so foolish. Working in the dim lighting of Bartleby’s has spoiled me, made me feel safe now that Nicholas has backed off.
The three blocks I have to walk to The Corbin are torture. Everyone is looking at me, right? Everyone is watching. I can feel their gazes, searing my skin. Every single one of them is probably picking up their phone and dialing the Altera Police Department.
I’m going to wind up just like Marcus Patrick. Just like my mom.
I pound on the back door of The Corbin. “Please, Will. Please open up,” I whisper, pressing myself to the frame. “Please. I can’t stay out here.”
The door eases open. The smile on his face immediately morphs into concern.
“What happened?” he asks, ushering me inside.
“I—I think I was recognized. Close the door before they find me.”
“Did someone follow you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” I can’t catch my breath.
He falls to his knees in front of me and grips my forearms. “Listen, love. This is a panic attack. You’re safe. Try to breathe, slowly. Breathe with me.”
He inhales, exhales. It’s so slow, I can’t do it. But his beautiful blue eyes are focused on me, and I feel myself falling into them, submitting to his control, to his wishes. My breaths even out and eventually slow down.
“There you go,” he whispers. “You’re doing so well. I’m proud of you.”
Tears form at the corners of my eyes. I blink them back. “I was so scared. I feel foolish now. The lady who saw me was really nice about it.”
“But it made you face your vulnerabilities,” he says, taking me across the hall to his office.
I nod.
“Wait here,” he says, helping me to one of the comfy chairs. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Focus on your breathing. Count in for four and out for eight.”
I don’t want him to leave, but of anywhere in the world, The Corbin’s basement is where I feel safest. I huddle in the chair and try to do as he says, focusing on my breath. In for four counts, out for eight. It’s surprisingly soothing, and my heartbeat no longer thunders in my ears.
By the time he returns, I’m feeling a thousand times better.
He’s carrying a bulging canvas tote. Giving me a grim smile, he says, “How do you feel about a disguise, love?”
“I thought I was disguised?”
“Your hair is the same, your eyes are the same. The glasses help, but you keep lifting them out of the way so you can focus better. I got you a few different colors of hair dye to choose from, plus a couple of other things.”
I get up and peer into the bag. There are a lot of options here, natural shades for the most part—red, blond, black.
“No hot pink?” I say, half-joking, although I’ve always wanted to play around with dyeing my hair—Dale would never permit it because he thought it had “bad optics.”
“If you want to get adventurous with your color,” Will says, “I suggest waiting until the attention dies down.”
There are also clothes, and some smaller boxes. I pick one of them up.
“A set of contacts,” Will explains. “They’ll make your eyes brown.”
I hold up another box.
He says, “Fake nose ring. And that last box is a different set of glasses—the lenses won’t affect your vision. They’ll also frame your face better.”
“Thank you,” I say, setting the bag down. “This was really thoughtful.”
He takes me in his arms. “I don’t want my little girl scared all the time. This should help.”
“It will.” I hold up a box of blond hair dye. “What do you say? Want to help me with my hair?”
He grins. “Only if you’re naked while we do it. We don’t want to stain your clothes.”
The vampire always seems to want me naked. Of course. I go along with it, though, because he is so generous with his praise.
We laugh through the steps of mixing the bleach powder and separating strands of my hair. I’ve never dyed my hair before, so the entire process is new to me.
There’s also the fact that I don’t have any clothes on, other than a towel wrapped around my shoulders to keep any bleached hair from touching my skin while we work.
Will gives his bleach-covered gloves a good glower. “I want to play with your tits, make you squirm. I want to touch you.”
“Later,” I say with a wink.
He drops to his knees in front of me, a self-satisfied smile on his face. “I don’t have to use my hands to touch you, love.”
I gasp when he licks and kisses from my knee upward.
“Hold onto the counter,” he says, voice dark.
I lean over the sink. It isn’t lost on me that just last night, I was bent in a similar way over the kitchen counter. Only this time, he’s in front of me. And his mouth is—
“Oh, fuck,” I moan. Lust. Pure lust. It’s in his eyes, it’s building within my core. A clenching, pulsing heat, growing with every lash of his tongue over my clit.
My legs shake, my body shudders. Relief is just within reach. A few more strokes of his tongue, and—
The timer on his phone goes off.
“Ignore it,” I gasp.
“We’ll revisit this later,” he says, giving my pussy a long, tantalizing lick.
“Wait—no—Daddy—” I start, ready to beg.
He laughs as he stands up. “We need to rinse your hair now.”
“Noooo, dammit, no, wait, it’s fine, come back.” I don’t care if the bleach fries my hair clear off—I want his mouth on me, right where it was.
Ignoring my protests, he leans me so my head is over the sink and turns on the water. Chemical scents fill my nose as he rinses everything out, his fingers massaging the locks of my hair carefully, methodically.
I definitely need him back between my legs where we left off, but this is also pretty fucking great. I close my eyes. If I were a cat, I would be purring.
Will goes completely still, his hands cradling my head, fingers against my scalp. Why did he stop moving? All I can hear is the rushing water, but he turns it off and otherwise remains frozen behind me.
“Will?” I ask, turning my head awkwardly so I can look around at him.
Jaw tight, he says, “Wait here. Stay quiet. Don’t move.”
“What? What’s going on?”
His head is canted to the side. He’s listening to something too quiet for human ears. My heart begins to thrum in my chest.
“Will, please,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “Don’t come running if you hear something.”
“What—why?”
“Someone’s here.”