Page 12 of DILF

I step away from her and pace the porch. “When you talk to her, tell her she’s in so much fucking trouble when she gets home. This is unacceptable.”

A small hand on my forearm stops me. I look at it, and then glance up to her blue eyes. “That’s not the right way to handle this, Linc.”

“How would you know? You’re not a parent.”

“No, but I know Charlie better than anyone, and I’m the same age as she is and I know the things that piss me off and make me want to do the opposite. So, just listen to me.” She squeezes my forearm. I don’t really know what else to do so I exhale loudly and sit on the steps, my head down, and I listen.

I’m going to have to take Lily’s advice, or at least listen to what she’s saying. I have seventy-five employees under me, so I understand the importance of listening. Though I’m not one to follow orders, that’s what I’m doing—from an eighteen-year-old, of all people. But what choice do I have? “Fine. What is it that you suggest that I do?”

She sits next to me on the step, our thighs pressed together. “You give her some space. Just a little. She’s an adult. We both are. I know it’s hard for you to wrap your head around that, but it’s the truth. Charlotte is the sweetest, kindest person I know. You raised her well. But she’s also the biggest drama queen I know. She’s just overreacting to what happened. She’s still mad about the divorce. She’s mad you’re dating. She’s mad you embarrassed her in front of her friends. She’s mad that you don’t trust her. She’s just…mad. This is uncharacteristic of her, so you know it must be really weighing on her if she’s rebelling. Give her space. She’ll be back. She loves you.”

With my head still resting against my palm I nod and roll my head so that I can look at her. She doesn’t have a stitch of make-up, her hair is in a knot on top of her head, and she looks beautiful. My mind tries to wander back to what happened just a few hours ago. I don’t say anything for a few moments because I can’t take my eyes off of her. She’s stunning. I’ve always known she was beautiful, but I’d never really noticed. Not until a few days ago when she was sitting on the hood of her car, the sun beaming down at her, her toned, tanned legs and her lithe body out on display. For a moment I forgot how to change a tire, I was so mesmerized by the woman she’d become.

“She’s always had me or her mom to guide her. She’s not confident or independent like you are,” I admit.

“Don’t underestimate her. She knows what she’s doing. She’ll be fine.”

I run my hand through my hair and cup the back of my neck. “She’s probably with that guy.”

“You mean Randy? Her boyfriend of, like, two years? He has a name.”

“Whatever,” I mumble, which makes her chuckle. She puts her hand on my knee so that she can stand up, but I hold her wrist down. “I’m sorry about earlier. I was out of line. That was so wrong, I don’t know what to say. I’m ashamed of myself,” I admit.

She nods and gives me a fake smile that just adds to all the shit I’m feeling at the moment. “I’ll tell Charlie to text you that she’s okay. G’night, Mr. Edwards.” And with that, she straightens and walks away, closing the front door of her house behind her.

Before I’ve opened the door of my house I’m already reading a text from Charlotte. Lily must have told her I was a wreck. I’m okay. Just need a breather to think. Love you daddy.

I go to bed tormented by everything that has happened in the last few hours.

6

LILY

I’m lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling fan go round and round and thinking about what happened in the truck with Linc. I had been lust-drunk and mindless, it was my only excuse. I mean, Jesus, I went from one major sexual experience to masturbating in front of Linc. Linc, who was at least twenty years older than me. Maybe the beer really had affected me. He must think I’m some sort of slut. Not that I care, at this point. Right now, I’m vacillating between complete mortification and going back for more.

My palm slides down my body as I imagine the way his hands would feel on me, or the way his beard would feel against my thigh. Scott, my most serious high school boyfriend and only sexual partner, had been sixteen like me. His parents had left to visit some family, and we were home alone. We’d been dating for a few months, and it just felt like the next logical step. He’d been very sweet about it, setting candles out and trying to create a romantic mood. It had hurt like a motherfucker and only lasted two painful minutes. Afterwards, I felt so awkward. The condom had blood on it and so did his sheets. Scott didn’t know what to do, which made me feel even more humiliated for some reason. I knew I shouldn’t feel that way, blood getting on sheets was a part of life that one had to expect when having sex with a virgin. But still, with red, burning cheeks and sore lady bits, I ripped the sheets off of his bed and set them in the washing machine on cold. I blew out all the candles, told him to tell his mother he’d spilled something on the sheets, and asked him to take me home. I cried that night. I had always imagined that my first time would be different. More romantic or something. I knew it would hurt, and I knew it would be awkward, but I expected some affection afterwards—not mortification. I never pictured a white knight showering me with flowers. That’s not what did it for me, but I needed more.

In my fantasies, I always wanted a rough and tumble man’s man, who wanted me so badly that he held me down and fucked me into oblivion. He’d protect me, even though he knew I didn’t need to be protected. I guess passion is what I always envisioned. I knew I wasn’t getting that with Scott, but I’d hoped for something more, something hard, lust-filled, combustible passion.

And how fucked up was I that the way Linc manhandled me and ordered me to the car, the way he looked so conflicted, the way I knew—I just knew—he’d take me. It didn’t scare me. It turned me on.

I reached down into my panties and for the second time that night, I came, touching myself thinking of all the things that I wanted Linc to do to me with that big, thick cock he’d been fisting.

7

LINC

By six in the morning, I’m usually out of bed and at work. I groan when I look at the time and it’s already past nine. Fuck. I had a late night, but not that late, yet I’m struggling to get out of bed and my head aches like a motherfucker.

I call in sick, which I haven’t done in years. Then I take a quick shower, which does nothing to alleviate the headache or the slight nausea I’m feeling. It’s like I had a full night of drinking—except I haven’t done that in years. I’ve always been the responsible one. The one who takes care of the family. When Mia and I started dating at twenty-one, I fell madly in love with her, and what Charlie doesn’t know and what I’m afraid will happen to her is that she will get knocked up, like her mother did. We had a shotgun wedding after seven months of knowing each other and eventually the passion died down. Her parents refused to support us, and Mia refused to change her lifestyle, so I took on most of the responsibilities. And it became apparent that our views on marriage were completely different. Having grown up in a low middle-class family, I was used to working and working hard. Being a rich, pampered princess, Mia had apparently been taught to sit on her ass and expect to be served everything.

At first, I turned a blind eye to the issues I began to see surface. She was fan-fucking-tastic in the bedroom, and that had a tendency to make a man forget what’s really important—like the fact that she was a manipulative bitch who expected diamonds and gold but did absolutely nothing to deserve it. Except a few years after Charlotte was born, that died down too. But by then, I was stuck. No way would I let Mia raise Charlotte. And I was too busy working two jobs to ever get full custody, and Mia’s parents hated me so much that, if she left, she’d have their money to help win custody, of that I was certain. But I didn’t want Charlotte to grow up thinking that the way her mother acted—like a lady of leisure—was normal. So, I sucked it up. It wasn’t always bad. Charlotte is and will always be the love of my life. When I see her, when she hugs me, I think that putting up with her mother for over two decades was worth it because she’d grown up to be such a caring and wonderful human being. And I always felt a surge of pride knowing that I had been the reason for that. We were so close that when the divorce finalized, she chose me over her mother.

But now, Charlie hates me, and I don’t know how to make things right with her.

Sluggishly, I head downstairs to make coffee while trying to finally figure out what is going on with Charlotte. But before I can do any of those things, I find a note taped to the coffee maker.

Daddy,

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