Page 15 of The Enforcer

It was an invitation. His dark eyes met mine and it almost seemed like they were trying to read mine, like he wasn't sure where I was going with it.

"You don't have to," I said, deciding to give him an out. "It's not a big deal." I brushed past him to get to the stairs when he grabbed my forearm to stop me.

He tilted his head down so it was close to mine and inhaled sharply. He was breathing me in. Goosebumps erupted up and down my body and I let out a surprised whimper.

"You can't make noises like that around me," he said. "Don't do it again." His voice was ragged.

"Why?" I asked. I hoped my own voice was steady.

"Because it's hard enough for me to control myself around you," he said. "Anything else is just cruel."

I locked eyes with him. I suddenly wasn't afraid, not of this. Not of whatever was going on between us.

"What if I don't want you to control yourself around me?" I asked slowly. "What if I want you to do whatever you want to me?"

"We can't," he said, though the words barely made it out.

I nodded. "I know," I said. I pulled away from him and walked up the stairs, making sure to throw my hips out more than I already did. I didn't look back to make sure he followed. I knew he would. I turned right and headed down the hall. I had the only bed on the right and I pushed open the cracked door and plopped on my bed, the album in my lap. When he poked his head inside, I gave him what I hoped was a welcoming smile. "Could you at least show me your favorite picture we took?"

He glanced away, out my room, as though he expected my dad to show up any minute. I couldn't blame him, but part of me wished he wasn't so afraid. Part of me wished he would take me regardless. Finally, he nodded, a jerky movement that seemed to imply he just wanted to get this over with. He stepped inside and took a seat on the bed next to me, a safe distance between us.

He took the album from me and began to flip through the pages, his eyes lingering on the different shots of me. I started to feel myself respond to what I looked like because of Joaquin. I found myself attractive, sure, but it was more than that. The way my nipples marbled, the way my chest had a flush, even the way my folds looked swollen. It was all because of Joaquin. And he knew it too.

"You're fucking perfect," Joaquin said, setting the album on my desk without pointing to any picture. "You think I can choose just one? The whole damn collection is my favorite."

My heart jumped at his words. I wasn't sure how to respond. In my head, I was this cool, calm femme fatale who knew just what to say to entice a man into bed with me without begging, and yet, all I wanted to do was get down on my knees and -

Wait.

Without thinking twice, I did just that. I slid down on my knees and looked up at Joaquin with hooded eyes. "I never thanked you," I told him, "for the shoot. You never charged me for your time."

"I'm not going to charge you," he said, his voice rough.

"I appreciate that," I told him, my hands cupping his knees, "but I still want to show you just how much I appreciate it."

My heart was hammering my chest. My palms were sweaty. I was waiting for him to push me away at any second because this was wrong and I was just a kid who had no idea what the hell I was doing and, oh yeah, I was his best friend's daughter. But I moved my sweaty hands to his jeans and I unbuckled them without hesitation, and somehow, he had yet to push me away. I looked up at him, as though I needed to be sure this was okay, but his face was a mask I couldn't read.

The only thing I knew was that he wasn't telling me to stop.

When I pulled out his thick cock, I looked up at him. His eyes were already hooded, his mouth twisted in a thin line. I wasn't sure how to read his face. I gripped his cock and ran my other hand up and down the shaft, softly, caressing the skin.

He shuddered.

There was the power I knew I had over him.

"Your dad," he managed to get out.

"He won't be home for a few hours," I assured him. I moved my mouth closer to his tip. "Please let me do this for you. Please. And then, if you never want me to touch you again, we can be done. I promise."

He didn't say anything.

I took that as a sign that he was okay with me pleasing him.

I put the tip of his cock in my mouth and sucked the juice from it. He hissed again and his hand came to the back of my head, fingers sliding between tresses, gripping at the roots. There was a strange sort of pleasure that came with pain. I always hated when Walter would move my head while I was sucking his dick, like he didn't trust that I knew what to do and was using me for his own pleasure, but Joaquin was different. It was as though he was holding me in position so I wouldn't have to worry about that.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he said. "Take me in your goddamn mouth. Yeah, just like that."

His voice always caused me to jump. Walter had always been quiet. I never knew if what I was doing actually worked.

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