Page 110 of Sugar Coated Secrets

When I unlock the door to my house, I blink back the tears when the silence reaches me mixed with the smell of damp wood and my grandmother’s powder. The antiseptic smell is gone. The beeping from the machines silent.

The medical supply company took everything the next day like it didn’t matter someone died using it until their last breath was taken.

“She was a wonderful lady,” Ford says, picking up a photo of her when she was better. “She loved you.”

“She was my mother and father since I was ten years old.”

He places the small picture frame back on the table. “Do you remember them? Your parents.”

“I try, but as time passes, you start to forget. My mother’s scent. My father’s cologne. The sound of their voices. Their laughter. It fades piece by piece. Sometimes I have to look at a picture to remember exactly what they looked like.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, picking up the prom night picture. “I wanted to ask; do you still have this dress?”

I shake my head. “I woke up naked. My clothes were missing.”

“All of them.”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I wanted you to wear it for me one day so I can take a new picture.”

“You could keep it.” He looks at me, confused. “The picture. You can have it.”

“I think I will. It was for me you dressed up for, and I wish more than anything to have been the one to pick you up.”

“Then none of it would have happened.”

“That and I would have told our kid the night I took their mother to prom.”

“My grandmother was right about you.”

“She wanted me to remind you to tell our family stories.” I pinch my brows. “I had a long conversation with the woman who raised you. I made her a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

“What promise is that?”

“Meet me in your bedroom and find out.”

A blush rushes my cheeks. Memories flash like a movie. My back arched, him behind me wrapping his hand around my long hair, taking me from behind while his hand muffles my moans over my mouth. The delicious burn between my thighs as he thrust inside me.

“You’re remembering.”

“Huh?”

I close my eyes, listening to his words. “When I fucked you on your twin bed muffling your screams while you choked my cock.” I can feel his breath against the back of my neck. “Was it good the other night or the first, Dulce?”

“Why don’t you remind me?”

He chuckles. “There it is. That mouth I like so much. The way it surprised me that day in your bedroom when you wanted me to fuck you. One night when I would have given you more.”

I arch my neck, resting the back of my head against his chest. “What are you waiting for, Ford?”

His hands rub over my hard nipples, fumbling with the buttons holding my uniform together. He pulls, and the buttons pop off, hitting the wall, the rest bouncing off the floor. He turns me around and pushes me against the wall near the staircase. His eyes fall on my thin bra, then lower to my white panties, where my thighs are squeezed together.

He pulls himself out of his jeans, stroking his cock like an exhibitionist. “Is that for me?” I ask playfully.

He presses the head of his cock over the wet spot on my panties. “This is always for you.”

I’m on fire. My clit is pulsing against his hard cock. I grind my hips, and he groans, pulling my panties. I hear the tear before he rips them off. He picks me up, and my legs wrap around his hips.

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