《Father Knows Best (A Family Affair Book 1)》 Father Knows Best: Prologue The Staging One year ago. Pulling the white linen handkerchief from my back pocket, I blot along my forehead and upper lip, letting out a sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t know about these massive homes,¡± Iment to Brandon as he adjusts the faux-fiddle leaf fig nt atop the walnut table, behind the sectional. ¡°I¡¯m exhausted, and we only did three rooms.¡± Brandon, his blonde hair darkened by all his hard work, heavy beads of sweat bncing on his brow-line, says, ¡°Yeah, but rooms in a ce like this are the size of small houses. So it¡¯s like we just did three regr homes, you know? It makes sense to be tired.¡± He blinks down at me, wearing his lopsided smile. ¡°How¡¯d you get this gig, anyway?¡± Tipping my head to the side, I analyze the rattan-back chair I¡¯d positioned around the firece earlier. I chose rattan for the texture it adds to the otherwise modern space, but now, on final look, I¡¯m not so sure. I slip out of my sneakers and walk carefully across the silk t pile rug I¡¯m using for the very first time. Moving a cream throw nket onto the rattan, I look back at Brandon, who nods. ¡°You¡¯re right. That¡¯s better.¡± As I¡¯m cautiously crossing the space, the digital keypad on the front door sounds, a quiet echo of beeps drifting from the entryway to here. A momentter, a man appears. A man dressed in a fitted suit the color of a stormy sky, a marigold necktie like the sun, ck shoes and matching belt, he slides his cell phone into his pocket and looks up. I¡¯ve never met Sutton Mercer but somehow, I know it¡¯s him. The smoky and serious tone he held on our phone callst week had me curious, so I looked him up. A professional headshot on the Mercer Properties website told me that Sutton Mercer is unbelievably handsome, with a face made for sales. But that photo did not do justice to his presence in person. Sutton Mercer is the most handsome man I¡¯ve quite possibly ever seen. He nces around the space, and I follow his gaze, my pulse pumping hurriedly. From where I¡¯m standing behind the curved ck and goldmp, he doesn¡¯t notice me right away. Setting his focus on Brandon, he asks, ¡°are you done?¡± Brandon¡¯s brows furrow, and he pulls a long breath into his chest before pointing at me with his eyes, replying, ¡°she¡¯s done, yes.¡± Entranced by him, I must¡¯ve missed the second set of fancy dress shoes clicking along the Italian marble floors, because another man appears,ing to stand at Sutton Mercer¡¯s side. He¡¯s much older, his swoopy hair and beard almostpletely silver. From my website research, I know that he is Geo Mercer, founder and CEO of Mercer Properties. He¡¯s also Sutton¡¯s father and business partner. My mother used to always tell me that people act differently around you when you¡¯re poor, and as I age, I realize how right she was. Not having what everyone else seemingly had made me deeply insecure, and it made everyone around me unsure how to behave. I feel that same way now, feeling dwarfed by the enormous house and the presence of these two. They¡¯re so handsome, their suits so elegant; sess radiating off them¨CI shift in socked feet in the corner of the enormous staged room, hit by a crushing wave of insecurity. I¡¯m good at what I do, and I¡¯ve built a name for myself in the real estate staging industry, but even so, nerves storm my belly. Insecurity storms me, burning its way into my guts, my fingers, the ends of my hair, like fast-moving fire. I hate this part of business¡ªhaving to remind myself that I¡¯m worthy to stand up next to these men. I¡¯m worthy to work with them. Intimidation is such a mind game. Geo Mercer spots me in the corner, and smiles, ear to ear. ¡°There she is.¡± He motions me over, and I move through the room cautiously, nervous to have their eyes on me. I slip into my sneakers and tuck the wild strands of hair behind my ears, hoping I don¡¯t look the sweaty and exhausted state I feel. ¡°Avery Bet?¡± he confirms, brows raised. I nod my head. ¡°Hello, Mr. Mercer. It¡¯s so nice to meet you. I¡¯m Avery Bet, of Bet Staging.¡± This is my first time staging a home for Mercer Properties, not to mention, the first massive home I¡¯ve staged. I think it looks wonderful but Sutton Mercer, whose hazel eyes are locked fastidiously on mine, is making me second-guess myself. His father pulls my attention back, adding, ¡°The ce looks gorgeous. You¡¯ve done a wonderful job, from what I can see so far.¡± Brandon speaks up, twisting the lid onto a bottle of water. ¡°I can take you through and show you everything,¡± he offers to Geo, who nces at his son. I can¡¯t help but look back at Sutton, too. He¡¯s still looking at me. Staring? Analyzing? Asking himself why he hired me for this job? I have no idea, because he¡¯s hardly spoken. I nce at the room, running down a quick list in my mind of stylistic choices I can change to make him happy. If he is indeed unhappy. ¡°That would be great,¡± Geo says slowly. He and Brandon move through the rest of the space on the lower level, their voices a hushed echo a momentter. I grab my cardigan off the kitchte chair¡ªone I found at a French craftsman shop in Bohost summer. I¡¯d purchased all four chairs and shoved them into my storage space, unsure of where they¡¯d make their first appearance, but positive they¡¯d make some space gorgeous one day. Feeding my arms through, Sutton tracks me with his gorgeous eyes, watching as I put on my sweater. He then nces at the small chairs positioned around the table. Our eyes meet. My stomach turns over into itself, queasiness shing through my limbs, sweat beading along the curve of my spine. It feels like high school or worse, junior high. My heart is racing and my palms get sticky, my mouth chalky. He brings a hand to his stomach, freeing a button on his suit, and I watch him, staring at the bulging veins in his hands. Outstretching my hand, I introduce myself. ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Avery Bet. We spoke on the phone.¡± Sutton slips his hand into mine, and my stomach clenches at the strength in his grip, the softness of his skin, and the way his eyes intensely hold mine. ¡°Ms. Bet,¡± he tips his head. ¡°Sutton Mercer.¡± Oh my. He nces back at the living space, casting a final, inquisitive look before facing me again. ¡°It¡¯spletely transformed. And on such short notice,¡± he says, eyes gripping mine with intensity. I¡¯ve never experienced intense eye contact. It¡¯s¡­ intense. ¡°I¡¯m impressed. And also grateful.¡± I lift my shoulder and let it fall. ¡°No biggie. That¡¯s my job.¡± My heart is pounding so loud, I¡¯m about to yell at myself to be quiet. His brows fall into a t line, and he presses his lips together. ¡°It was very short notice.¡± I smile. ¡°That¡¯s how it goes in real estate.¡± My heartbeat begins to steady, and I lick my lips. He watches me. The intense way he watches me has my stomach doing backflips. My eyes fall to his hand, the one at his core, suit coat still between his fingers. I¡¯m struggling to shift my focus off of his virile hand, with veins running over the top, and the glittering watch adorning his wrist. My cheeks grow warm, and I curl my toes in my sneakers as I peer up at him, feeling like I¡¯m in the presence of a mythical god of some sort. Sutton notices me looking at his hands and watch, and smiles. Embarrassment codifies the warmth in my face, and I know for the rest of this encounter, my skin will never calm. I will be a cherry to Sutton Mercer, real estate god. Geez. I wrap my cardigan around myself as a shield to stand between my sudden attraction and him, hoping something prevents him from noticing how much I want him. Eyes still transfixed on mine, he tips his head back toward the hall where Brandon and Geo disappeared. ¡°Is he your boyfriend?¡± He says boy like it¡¯s a criminal offense. And it makes my skin tingle. But then Iugh. I blink. I furrow my brows. ¡°What?¡± He doesn¡¯tugh. He doesn¡¯t smile. He just repeats himself. ¡°Is he the guy you¡¯re currently dating? Your boyfriend?¡± For some reason, I have to physically turn and look down the white hall where the men went, because it greatly surprises me that Sutton would make that leap. I shake my head. ¡°Brandon works for me.¡± Sutton¡¯s face doesn¡¯t soften, and for some strange reason, I feel the need to further rify, to take that look off his face. ¡°We are just friends and coworkers. That¡¯s all.¡± His lips curve as if he¡¯s pleased with my response. Then he hits me with a disarming, obnoxiously gorgeous smirk. ¡°I¡¯m pleased to hear that.¡± Hisment sets me on the edge of nervousness and anxiety, so I adjust my cardigan again before grabbing myptop off the table, hugging it to my chest. ¡°I¡¯ll email your assistant the rest of the invoice now that we¡¯re done. When the property is sold, my team and I will be back and have the house cleared in a day.¡± Sutton¡¯s face gets that grouchy look again, and my stomach does backflips for it. ¡°Your team? Are there other Brandons?¡± I smile. ¡°I say team because it makes most clients feel morefortable but no, it¡¯s usually just us.¡± I look around the space. ¡°In this case, we¡¯ll likely use movers on the way out to ensure we hit our one-day pack up promise.¡± He nods, just standing there, handsome and intriguing, his musky bergamot scent scrambling my senses, making the ce between my legs hot and fuzzy. I¡¯ve never turned into a pearl-clutching, self-fanning, wordless puddle of ¡°get me pregnant¡± before, but Sutton Mercer is a different story entirely. Brandon¡¯s and Geo¡¯s voices grow nearer, with Geo¡¯s shoes clicking their way down the hall. Sutton tips his head to the side, and lowers his voice, private but not whispering, smoky but not intentionally. ¡°Would you like to have lunch with me?¡± I don¡¯t know if this is a working lunch, or if it¡¯s personal. Then again, when I looked Sutton Mercer up online, Google returned many images of him with models, attending charities, gs, social events, and fundraisers. Never the same model, but always a model. Considering this, I decide it must be a business lunch, and smile. ¡°Sure. Have your assistant email me and we¡¯ll set something up.¡± I use my most professional voice, despite the tremor of disappointment rattling in my chest, threatening to shake up my vocal cords. Business with Sutton Mercer is a great opportunity, I remind myself. I move toward the kitchen, where myputer bag lies idly on the granite countertop. But before I get there, Sutton takes my elbow in a soft grip, stopping me. I turn, and blink up at him, realizing just how much bigger than me he is. ¡°Today. Right now. That¡¯s when I want to have lunch with you.¡± Really? ¡°Um, okay.¡± I¡¯m wearing work clothes. Jeans, sneakers, an old COLUMBIA t-shirt from college, a cardigan, my hair is in a day-old french braid and I¡¯m sweaty. When he emailed over the property details and the lookbook they were going for in terms of staging design, he didn¡¯t mention stopping by. In fact, he said to leave the key in the lock box on the door. This update is avable on find?novel He releases my elbow andughs softly, the kind ofugh that you can hear in a room full of loud voices, the kind of timbre that rumbles beneath your toes and up your spine. ¡°Um, okay,¡± he repeats, hisughter draining away, leaving traces of a very sexy smirk on his lips. ¡°You don¡¯t sound sure about lunch with me.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to ask me to lunch.¡± I roll my lips together, and Sutton¡¯s eyes drop to my mouth, and I find myself suddenly wishing I¡¯d done more than Chapstick today. I have to ask, because I¡¯m not good with the unknown, and if I go to this lunch without understanding why I¡¯m there, I¡¯ll be anxious the entire time. Chances are, I¡¯ll be anxious either way. ¡°Is it a¡­ work lunch?¡± I ask, my cheeks heating from thosest two words. If it is a work lunch, he¡¯s going to think I thought he wanted to ask me out. When that thought hits, I open my mouth, ready to make some excuse about wanting to expense it myself when Sutton Mercer shes me a full smile. Not a smirk, or a photo smile, but something that looks, to me, genuine. ¡°It¡¯s a date.¡± He shoves his hands in his pants pocket, just blinking at me as if being asked out by a hot millionaire is something that shouldn¡¯t shake me to my core. ¡°Your work is incredible. The fact you got this house fully staged in four days with suchte notice, that you understood my vision and absolutely nailed it,¡± he says, blowing out a breath as he surveys the home. His awe of my work gives me goosebumps. When he turns around and rests those gray eyes on me, I nearly melt. ¡°Very rarely am I understood so well by someone besides my father.¡± Another smile that makes me feel like a wanton hussy. ¡°So I¡¯d like to take you to lunch, on a date.¡± I smile. ¡°Don¡¯t forget the now part,¡± I remind him. He shrugs one shoulder. ¡°I know what I want, and I know when I want it.¡± I¡¯m lost in the taunt and promise of his words, transfixed and made mute by the idea that Sutton Mercer wants me. I can¡¯t help but picture me at his feet, his hand in my hair, telling me how much he adores me, how good I¡¯m doing. My mouth goes dry. The other two appear, Geo wearing an ear-to-ear smile. ¡°The property looks wonderful, Ms. Bet.¡± He pats Brandon¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Thank you for the tour.¡± Brandon nods before facing me. ¡°I grabbed the rest of your stuff.¡± He lifts his hand, showing off the canvas bag full of my supplies. I reach for it, and as he passes it to me, Geo leans forward, peeking inside. ¡°That¡¯s a fun bag,¡± he says, shing me a smile, his eyebrows dancing to his forehead as he indicates something naughty. I truly can¡¯t help butugh. ¡°That¡¯s my supply bag.¡± Geo reaches inside, and retrieves zip ties and duct tape. ¡°You know¨C¡± Sutton speaks over his father while, at the same time, taking the items from him and cing them gently back in my bag. ¡°I¡¯m taking Ms. Bet to lunch now.¡± He faces Brandon, extending his hand. ¡°It was good meeting you.¡± Brandon returns the sentiment, and the four of us walk to the door. Geo tells me it was lovely to meet me, and slips into a town car which follows the winding driveway down to the public street, right behind Brandon. Leaving me and Sutton Mercer. He smiles. ¡°My town car left.¡± I look down at my tiny silver hatchback, and back up at the strapping man before me. ¡°Will you fit?¡± Another breath stealing smirk. ¡°I¡¯ll fit alright.¡± Father Knows Best: Chapter 1 The Blue Box Current Day. Bottega Va. Yves Saint Laurent. Chanel. My fingers dust the velvet-lined hangers, making the designer gowns sway gently in my closet. Interior lights shine down, providing just enough glow over the garments to see the detail of each. All of them are ck dresses, each with a unique difference. The Bottega Va is a high-shine satin with a plunging neckline and a hem that puts my knees on full disy. The Yves Saint Laurent dress dons a cowl neck and longer hem, made of viscose, which clings like second skin. The Chanel?¡ª ¡°You stop the show in anything you wear, my darling.¡± His dominant voice floods the master bedroom, despite the fact I know he¡¯s only standing in the doorway. Turning, I find my boyfriend standing where I guessed, his hands shoved into his cks, one mountainous shoulder pressed up against the doorframe, a multi-million dor smirk lifting the corner of his full lips. ¡°The belted ck shantung.¡± Despite knowing the way his arms feel looping my body, the warmth that trickles through my veins when I¡¯m dwarfed by his powerful size, the scent of him after a long day of work¨Cmy body still excites as Sutton crosses the room and stops in front of me. He collects my hands with his, dusting his lips along my knuckles. ¡°The Dior.¡± He graces my cheek with a soft kiss, and desire erupts beneath the flimsy satin of my thong. Sutton ties my white satin dressing robe a bit tighter. I wish he¡¯d untie it and throw it to the floor, the satin dressing gown nothing but a victim of his lecherous desire for me. Hell, I wish Sutton would throw me onto the bed and say, ¡°fuck the dress, fuck the dinner, I have to stay in and feast on you tonight.¡± He runs the backs of his knuckles down my cheek. ¡°The car is out front, whenever you¡¯re ready.¡± Another tender kiss, this time on my lips. Sutton releases my hands and turns, pulling our bedroom door shut behind him as he leaves. After finding the Dior dress he mentioned, I drape it over the bed and open my robe. The floor to ceiling mirror shows me what I knew I¡¯d find. What I see every time my boyfriend touches me. Red, excited, eager flesh. My chest is bright, and my nipples are plucky, and there is already a spot inside my satin thong where the ruby has turned ga, where my desire has bled through. Reaching down, I can¡¯t help but touch the dark spot on the satin, then delve beneath to dust my fingertips against the source. Swollen and tender, if Sutton were here, with his hand in my panties, my robe open, nude body on disy¡ªit wouldn¡¯t take much. A stroke. A flick. A puff of his breath along my sensitive skin. That¡¯s all. My phone dings on my dressing table, notifying me that the security camera motion sensor has turned on. Our car is here. We are headed to an important business dinner downtown, and Sutton does not like beingte. With my hair already styled in a ssic low bun, my six-month-anniversary diamonds glittering on my ears, I step into the Dior and reach behind myself, dragging the zipper up. Slipping into my nude Follies Strass Louboutin pumps¡ªSutton¡¯s favorite¡ªI find my clutch and head down. He¡¯s scrolling his phone when I step off the elevator and appear in the lobby, ten paces from him as he pins the main entry door open with his hip. He always refuses the doorman. ¡°Ready,¡± I quietly announce myself. Sutton¡¯s eyes lift from his screen, and he doesn¡¯t bother locking his phone before he shoves it into his suit pocket and moves toward me, cradling his open jaw in one hand. ¡°Avery.¡± The way he says Avery, like I¡¯m so cherished that even speaking my name must be done so with delicacy. Sutton always makes me feel so adored, like a painted porcin girl meant to be held with love and white gloves. ¡°You are the most beautiful woman I¡¯ve everid eyes on. As usual.¡± His arm snakes my waist, drawing me toward him. I drape my hands over his chest. His hazel eyes capture mine, feathering naughty promises over me with just a look. ¡°But this dress¡ªyou¡¯re a knockout, sweetheart. Truly.¡± My heart races from hispliments. A year together and everything he says still ignites my bones and sets fire to my soul. My eyes burn from his adoration, and behind my ribs, my heart swells to five times its size. ¡°Thank you, Sutt.¡± I press up to my toes to kiss him, and further darken my panties as he makes that noise he sometimes makes¡ªa low grumble in his belly, one that radiates through his chest, giving me a hint at the raw, carnal lover buried deep inside of him. Checktest chapters at FindN()vel Sutton makes love like he does everything else. Intense, butposed. And that noise he makes sometimes when I kiss him, or when I slide my hand over his thigh in the back of the town car after a long night out and too many whiskeys¨CI want to dive into that noise and drown myself in it, it¡¯s so arousing. Despite the fact that he¡¯s mine, I¡¯m often so starved for more of him that I feel outside myself. He braces his hand at my lower back as he holds the door, and I slide in. He joins me in the backseat, and pulls the door closed. ¡°Larkin and California, downtown,¡± Sutton tells the driver, who nods his head before hitting the button, raising the partition. The soft leather makes no noise as he turns, unbuckled in his seat, taking one of my hands with both of his. ¡°When you were at the office earlier, my father didn¡¯t by chance mention tonight, did he?¡± Sutton was showing a property in the East Bay the majority of the day, which meant he was out of office. Because I¡¯ve been working on arge project for thest month, I was in the office in the nning phases. Remembering our conference room lunch, I nod. ¡°He did.¡± I know what Sutton is asking. ¡°He¡¯s not bringing anyone.¡± Sutton nods, rxing into the seat as our driver nudges us through downtown city traffic. ¡°Good.¡± ¡°Just Chanel.¡± I smile when Sutton casts me his perfected irritated look. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why he feels the need to include her in all Mercer Properties affairs,¡± heins, reaching over myp to fasten my seatbelt. He¡¯s making sure I¡¯m safe, and yet I wish he were reaching over to grab my knee beneath my dress and whisper something filthy to me before we arrive. ¡°Because she¡¯s part of the Mercer team,¡± I remind him as he pops his cuffs. ¡°She¡¯s disrespectful to you,¡± he says matter of fact, cutting me a deadeyed re. ¡°I don¡¯t like her. And anyway, she should always stay at reception. That¡¯s the literal point of a receptionist.¡± I open my purse and root around for my Barely There lipstick, and pull it out. Sutton¡¯s eyes follow the tube of color as I twist it and bring it to my lips, tracing them. The way he watches me makes my stomach flutter. ¡°She wants to sleep with you.¡± Suddenly his thigh is pressed to mine, and he¡¯s holding my lipstick in his hands, rolling it down, capping it. His breath, a touch of toothpaste and a hint of ck Label, warms the tip of my nose as he blinks down at me. ¡°Come on,¡± he says, eyes shing with excitement despite his private tone. ¡°We¡¯re here. Your lipstick looks perfect. You look perfect.¡± I¡¯d close my eyes for a kiss, but he reaches past me to push the door open, and the cool bay evening leaps into the cab of the town car. ¡°Stay. I¡¯lle around,¡± he orders, before hopping out on his side and reappearing on mine. Taking my hand, he weaves our fingers together, dragging me toward the expensive Japanese restaurant that boasts a room capacity of only ten people at a time. I¡¯ve never been but wanted toe for ages¡ªGeo says it¡¯s the best omakase experience in the city. The town car leaves us in front of the restaurant, which is made of ss windows, all of which are uncovered, leaving the dark, modern restaurant in clear view. I nce up at the signage and the surrounding businesses. ¡°I heard it¡¯s not about exclusivity per se, but they designed this ce as a test kitchen for a bigger restaurant down¨C¡± my words drop off of a cliff when I look to find Sutton on the ground. On one knee. Holding a little blue box. ¡°Oh my god.¡± My heart is racing and immediately, my presumptuous eyes get hazy and wet. ¡°Avery Bet, I became obsessed with you the very first time I saw you. And I¡¯ll admit, when I hired you, it was so that I could spend time with you. But you were and are incredible at your job, and the more time I spent with you and around you, the more I fell head over heels in love. And my obsession turned to the truest and deepest respect and love I¡¯ve ever had for another person.¡± He pauses to open the box, revealing arge diamond on a massive setting. ¡°Will you be my wife?¡± I nod my head, afraid that words will bring tears, and tears will blur my vision. Right now, I¡¯m etching Sutton¡¯s happy face into my memory, to recall whenever I want, for the rest of my life. He gets to his feet, pinching the ring from the box. Our eyes lock. And my heart throbs at the way emotion pulls at his voice. ¡°Thank you for saying yes. Thank you forpleting me. I love you. I can¡¯t wait for you to be my wife.¡± He slips the ring down my finger, and takes my face in his hands, kissing me with a kiss that curls my toes in my pumps and has my body pulsing. The front door opens, and Geo¡¯s head pops out. ¡°You¡¯re thest two,¡± he says to Sutton, his eyes sliding to me before everything else¨Ctherge rock on my finger, our tender embrace, the softness gracing Sutton¡¯s usually strict features. Geo blinks a few times, then looks up at his son, and for a moment, hurt passes through his steely expression. The door swings shut as he looks between us in our moment. ¡°Oh.¡± Geo¡¯s eyes linger on the diamond setting eating up my hand. The hurt in his eyes is gone as he pulls me into his chest. ¡°Congrattions, Avery.¡± After our embrace, he shakes Sutton¡¯s hand. ¡°Congrattions, son.¡± We head inside and celebrate with Mercer Properties, and Sutton keeps his hand on my thigh beneath the table¡ªand my dress¡ªthe entire evening.
¡°Do you want to take it off or leave it on?¡± he asks as his tie sails to the floor, joining his perfectly pressed white dress shirt, blue cks, dress socks and shoes. And soon? His underwear. Please Sutton take those off before you crawl into bed, I think to myself before dropping my eyes from one gorgeous thing to the other¨Cmy ring. I slide it up over my knuckle, then down again. ¡°On. It fits perfectly. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever take it off in my life. Like, ever,¡± I admit, extending my hand beneath themp on the bedside table, twisting and turning it beneath the light, coaxing out twinkles from the oversized stone. The mattress dips as Sutton crawls over me, sliding his hands under the hem of my dress, his palms skating along the bare flesh of my thighs until they find my panties. He makes that groaning noise as he kisses me, celebratory champagne still voring his lips. Sutton tugs my panties off, and doesn¡¯t even look at them before casting them to the floor, and reaching over me to click the light off. His lips skate the harsh curve of my corbone as he nudges my legs apart with his knee. Traces of tonight¡¯s celebration hang in the air¨Cthe champagne we enjoyed at the restaurant, the cigars that Geo and Sutton shared on the curb together after dinner, the whiskey Sutt and I sipped by the fire as soon as we got home, his cologne braided with the faint scent of his skin and sweat¡ªall of it envelopes me, and emotions swarm. ¡°I love you, Sutt,¡± I tell him as he slips two strong fingers past my lips, sinking easily inside my eager body. ¡°Ahh.¡± I can¡¯t help the moan of appreciation that escapes me when he presses deep, curling them. He kisses me everywhere as he warms me up with his fingers, bringing me to orgasm before he gets inside of me. That¡¯s the first step in our lovemaking routine. Next, he¡¯ll make mee on his cock¨Cthough he¡¯d never put it in such terms. He will fuck me deep and slow, only letting the powerful, explosive strokes out when he¡¯s close to orgasm. Then, he¡¯ll explode inside me, twitching and groaning as he empties himself, and I¡¯ll squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on the heat he gives me, and how good it feels. Then, we¡¯ll exchange our adoration for each other, and after, we¡¯ll brush our teeth and drink water, and go to sleep. I alwayse multiple times when Sutton makes love to me, and I love nothing more than having his bare body over mine, feeling him throbbing, hungry toe inside me. But our lovemaking is fairly routine, which is why I can almost guess his next words as he brings his mouth to my chest, tugging my dress down enough to expose my strapless bra. He loves fucking me in my dress while he¡¯s naked¡ªI suppose it¡¯s the kinkiest thing about Sutton Mercer. ¡°Are you ready for me, baby?¡± he asks while his lips roam the curved hem of my strapless bra. I fill my hands with his hair, and look into his storming eyes. Sutton drags my bra down, and with his eyes on me, sucks one stiff nipple into his mouth. Another one of his incinerating moans has me aching, and I press one hand to my belly, desperate to feel him there, thick and throbbing. I nod, feeling my bun break free against the pillow. Sutton loves my messy hair after he makes love to me, and seeing the re of adoration in his eyes when he strokes fingers through it along the pillow makes me love it, too. ¡°Yes,¡± I breathe, lifting my head just slightly to peer down between us. His naked, hardened body is on top of mine, and despite the fact that the lights are off, my eyes have adjusted, and I can see everything. Sutton¡¯s belly, thickened only by muscle with a trail of trimmed hair traveling to his groin. He shoves my dress up around my waist, and kisses each of my exposed nipples again before gripping his erection in his veiny hand. He looks up for his second confirmation, per usual, and I nod my head. I remember the first time I made love to Sutton Mercer. It took us an hour to work him inside of me. I was a virgin, and Sutton is big. No matter how many times he has me, he still always makes sure it feels okay before he gets going. I find my vision again in the darkness, blinking down between us as he grips himself at the base. There is nothing sexier than watching Sutton touch himself, but it¡¯s rare that he lets me. The only time I was on the receiving end of the erotic experience of watching him masturbate, it was an ident. It was our first away trip, and we weren¡¯t sleeping together yet. I got up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and I walked in on him stroking himself over the sink. I wanted nothing more than to be the sink¡ªto fall to my knees in that hotel bathroom and let him pour his release down my throat while he lost himself in the pleasure I gave him. Instead, I discovered that Sutton, despite his Adonis figure and gorgeous phallus, is private. ¡°That feel good, baby?¡± he asks, driving between my thighs, kissing the side of my throat as he drops his thumb to my clit. He doesn¡¯t have to finger my clit when he makes love to me¡ªI can probably orgasm just from feeling Sutton hard inside of me. But I don¡¯t tell him not to, because the more of Sutton on me, touching me, tasting me and inside me¡ªthe better. I nod my head. ¡°You feel so good, Sutt.¡± My legs quiver all around him, and the muscle in my belly twitches as my eyes burn. He feels good, so good that I grow emotional with him inside me tonight, his ring on my finger, hisst name about to be mine. He kisses my lips, then the tip of my nose, picking up his pace. His cock is slippery and hot, and every time his groin ps mine, I think I¡¯m about toe. He doesn¡¯t tell me to wait, and he doesn¡¯t try to align our orgasms. Rather, he fucks me through it when I unravel beneath him within the first few pumps, and I cling to him, watching as hees undone inside me mere minutester. I stroke the ends of his hair as he steadies his breathing, and after a few minutes where he softens and calms inside me, Sutton pulls out. We clean up in the bathroom together, and while we¡¯re over the sink, brushing our teeth, I reach across and snap the waist of his gray sleeping pants. He got dressed in the dark bedroom before we went to the restroom. Per usual. Sutton cocks an eyebrow in the mirror, minty foam in the corners of his mouth. ¡°What?¡± I look at my reflection in the mirror. Tied up in my white satin robe, the skin showing is flushed with arousal, even still. My blonde hair hangs in a tangles that used to be a bun, and there¡¯s a smudge of mascara beneath each eye. I grab the tie at my waist, heart racing, and tug it open, exposing my naked body. Sutton sizes me up before he bends at the waist, spitting and rinsing. Reaching, he takes me by the hips, intense gaze on mine as he reties my robe. ¡°You never want to sleep in the nude?¡± I ask, tone hampered by his reaction, trying to hide my disappointment that he covered me up. I don¡¯t hold a huge desire to be nude. I like my body, but more than that, I like Sutton¡¯s body, and merely the idea of sleeping next to him naked turns me on¡ªunreasonably so. Sutt wrinkles his nose and takes my hands in his, waffling our fingers. ¡°No, I do not want to sleep in the nude. If there was ever an intruder, an emergency, a fire¡ª¡± he tips his head to the side, studying me for a moment. ¡°Why?¡± I stare into his soulful hazel eyes. His cum slides down the inside of my thigh, and I know if I told him, he¡¯d tell me to use the restroom and clean up¨Cagain. Instead, I bring my legs together and savor the warm stickiness in private. ¡°No reason.¡± We get into bed, and I stare at my ring in the moonlight. I¡¯m now engaged to the sweetest, kindest, sexiest, smartest, most sessful man I know. He holds me until he falls asleep, and after he does, I reach between my legs, and ce my hand in the mess left behind, and drift off. Father Knows Best: Chapter 2 The Possession I¡¯m not surprised that he¡¯s throwing us a party, in fact, the only part of this that is a surprise is location, here in the office. Stepping over a gold balloon tangled in streamers, I join Roberta, Jon and Kat in the conference room, where they¡¯ve holed up to avoid the family and friends filling the remainder of the offices and space. We normally hold meetings and sign paperwork in this particr conference room, but today, it¡¯s a respite from celebration. I don¡¯t take it personally¡ªmy father¡¯s parties¨Cwhich typically boast things like live music, me swallower (that wasst Christmas), and open bars¡ªare grating on sober, non-celebratory nerves. ¡°Wasn¡¯t dinner the other night celebration enough?¡± Roberta teases me as I enter the room, smoothing my hand down my tie. I scratch the back of my head, temporarily hazy as I recall the spontaneous proposal before our business dinnerst night. I¡¯d nned on doing it after dinner, but I just¡­ I couldn¡¯t wait. After all, the ring was purchased on our sixth month anniversary¡ªI¡¯d waited six months, and couldn¡¯t wait through one more dinner. ¡°That was the spur of the moment. I hadn¡¯t intended on doing it on the sidewalk, before a business dinner.¡± Roberta hits me with a soft, tender smile. ¡°I¡¯m only kidding.¡± Another smile. ¡°Congrattions again, Sutton. You and Avery are a great couple. And you know I¡¯m happy to celebrate again.¡± ¡°My father never misses an opportunity to throw a party.¡± Jon sips his drink as Kat flips her pink hair over her shoulder, greeting me with a toothy grin. ¡°Congrattions, cousin.¡± She presses to her toes and loops her arms around my neck, pulling me into her tiny frame for a tight hug. ¡°You¡¯re lucky you got to her first.¡± I pull out of her embrace, takingvender and patchouli with me. Kat and Cade are my only cousins, but she¡¯s closest to me in age, being twenty-eight years old to my thirty-five. She started working at Mercer Properties while she was attending college, working toward her undergraduate degree. She¡¯s made a name for herself in selling professional spaces versus homes; high end homes are my and my father¡¯s specialty. She¡¯s been mypetition a few times in the past, and not for property. Where women are concerned, we¡¯ve notoriously had the same type. I sip my whiskey. ¡°Think of it this way, with Avery and I engaged, you have lesspetition on the market.¡± Jon, the second highest grossing agent at Mercer and first biggest douchebag, looks between me and my younger cousin, waving between us with the pointer finger lifted off his drink ss. ¡°You two have the same taste in women, huh?¡± He sips, and before the vile words leave his mouth, I¡¯m already expecting them. I know Jon well, unfortunately. ¡°You two ever double team anyone together?¡± Kat rolls her eyes, plucking the olive from her martini. She chews it, ring. ¡°Double team a woman with my cousin? You¡¯re disgusting, Jon.¡± Th?s chapter is updated by f?i?n?d?n?o?v?e?l? Heughs, taking another sip of his drink as he directs his focus on me. ¡°That¡¯s a no, then,¡± he says, adding, ¡°Sutton, you¡¯re way too uptight for any fun anyway.¡± He crushes his ss into Kat¡¯s, forcing her to celebrate his words. ¡°More fun for us, right Kitty Kat?¡± Like the breath of fresh air that she always is, Avery appears in the doorway, a ss of champagne between her delicate fingers. Her smile is effervescent, and the way she always looks at me first even when the room is full makes my chest squeeze. She winks, then her gaze slides to Kat. ¡°Juliette is here. I told her I¡¯d bring you to her instead of making her traipse through the festivities.¡± My father did go all out on this party despite the fact that neither Avery nor myself are big celebration type of people. But because Avery is having a good time, I don¡¯t mind that he did it. Though my father and I haven¡¯t been close since I was a child, I do want him and Avery to have a rtionship of some sort. I can recognize that my father is arguably a good man, though he¡¯s someone else to me, I keep that to myself. Kat sets her empty cocktail ss down on the table, and pats my shoulder as she passes by. ¡°Thanks Avery,¡± she says, ¡°And congrattions again, guys. Seriously. I can¡¯t wait for you to be an official Mercer.¡± With that, she leaves, and Avery follows, looking back at me over her shoulder as she filters into the mass of friends and family. Her golden hair is down tonight, in waves, and she¡¯s wearing the bright red lipstick that makes my heart race. I love seeing traces of it on my throat before I shower in the morning. ¡°Well you took the veryst church girl piece of ass off the market, Sutton. Good for you. Fuck the rest of us,¡± Jon says, holding his ss which has somehow refilled itself. On the conference room table, I spot an open bottle of ck Label, the unscrewed lid sitting in a puddle of spilled booze. So he¡¯s drunk, or at the very least, buzzed. Still, neither of those things make what he just said okay. Not in the slightest. Taking a step toward him, Robertaes between me and Jon. She tips her head to the side, knowing eyes trying to tame mine. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I reassure her softly, which gives her enough peace to step aside. I press my finger into his chest. ¡°That¡¯s your one and only free pass, Whitmore. The next time you make ament about my fianc¨¦e, there will be a consequence.¡± Jon¡¯s lips quirk, and his bloodshot eyes move between mine. He¡¯s on the cusp of making a joke, but I don¡¯t let him. ¡°Sutton,¡± Roberta calls my name from the doorway, but I stay in his face. Calmly, without raising my voice, of course. ¡°One more word,¡± I warn. The slosh of booze hitting ice is thest thing I hear as I exit the conference room, and join my uncle Ford, my cousin Cade, and Kat with her friend Juliette. Uncle Ford and my father couldn¡¯t be more different. Ford is four years younger than my father, but dates women Avery¡¯s age. My father, on the other hand, dates no one but sleeps with everyone. Geo Mercer doesn¡¯t have a lick of ink on his body, where Ford Mercer has very little space on him without it. They do have one simrity though¡ªthey¡¯re both very sessful self-made businessmen. Ford owns a chain of high end bars on the West Coast. Unlike me working for my father, Ford¡¯s son Cade ended up a professor, not partaking in either family business. I envy him for that a little, but I do love what I do. Cade greets me with a hug, while still arguing with his sister about something that has them both heated. ¡°And¡ªhey, Sutt, congrattions man, she¡¯s great¡ªI told youst time you did it, Kat, you can¡¯t juste sit in on my lectures. You¡¯re not enrolled.¡± After shaking hands with my uncle and receiving yet another congrattions, I stand with my family and listen to them discuss my uncle¡¯stest bar opening in Palo Alto, ready to sink into their familiar voices and enjoy the evening. ¡°Sutton.¡± Her voice grates my nerves, urging me to take another sip of my whiskey as I face Chanel, the front desk receptionist at Mercer. Or as Avery likes to call her, my biggest fan. Chanel¡¯s tant interest in me has never ruffled Avery¡¯s feathers, and her ss and maturity are sexy as hell to me. Chanel drapes her hand on my forearm, and I blink down at it until she removes it. Awkwardly, she pretends to pluck lint from my suit jacket, using her whiniest voice when she says, ¡°You really want to be off the market? There¡¯s so much real estate out there you haven¡¯t explored yet.¡± Stepping away from my family, I move my drink to the other hand, and let my arm fall from her reach. ¡°It was never appropriate for you to throw yourself all over me, for a battery of reasons. But now I¡¯m engaged. Avery Bet is my fianc¨¦e. If you approach me again in a way that does not respect Avery, you will be terminated from Mercer Properties.¡± I pause, searching her eyes for a moment before adding, ¡°And pleading with my father won¡¯t get your job back.¡± Neither will sucking him off, which I¡¯m not sure that she¡¯s done but have a feeling she has. Still, I don¡¯t say that part. With that, I walk away and wander until I¡¯ve found my office, overlooking the bay skyline. I¡¯ll catch up with Cadeter, and I see Ford and Kat often. I sink into my chair and stare out the door, to the cluster of people celebrating in the open space between offices. They¡¯re celebrating the fact that their boss surprised them with a random midday booze sesh, not my engagement, I know that. Avery¡¯s eyes catch mine from the crowd. She and I are celebrating one another, and themitment we¡¯ve made. Heat res in my belly and my groin grows tight. I shoot her a wink, and stay in that seat for the rest of the afternoon, admiring what¡¯s mine. Father Knows Best: Chapter 3 The Past Brandon appears in the hallway, his forehead shiny from our hard work, an empty dolly between his hands. ¡°That was thest piece.¡± I huff out a long, exhausted breath. ¡°Thank goodness.¡± Swiping through my iPad, I make sure everything on my checklist has beenpleted before locking the screen and shoving it into my bag. ¡°We¡¯re all set.¡± The back left wheel on the dolly squeaks like it always does as Brandon rolls it to the entry way, where the rest of my stuff is waiting. We stand arm to arm, surveying thepletely staged space. ¡°Was this custom or did Geo have a style in mind?¡± Brandon asks. Sometimes, the listing agent will know the client they¡¯re trying to sell to, and have me stage the home to fit their specific tastes, regardless of what the home calls for. A Spanish-style home decorated in vintage antiques? Makes no sense to me, but we sold a ten million dor homest year just like that. Because it¡¯s what the buyer wanted in their prospective home, and Geo knew it. ¡°Actually, this is Sutt¡¯s listing and he left it up to me.¡± I nce around the mid-century style home, one that was built with modern touches and refinements, but is now adorned in Scandinavian style, using natural light and neutral tones, capitalizing on textures like natural wood and white stone. It¡¯s absolutely gorgeous this way¨Cit¡¯s the same way Sutton¡¯s house looks. I could be partial, I admit. Brandon bobs his head as he surveys the living space that opens into arge kitchen,plete with a butler¡¯s pantry and chef¡¯s kitchen. ¡°Can you imagine?¡± he asks, dragging his fingertips along the beveled edge of the trendy stamped concrete counter top. My brows furrow. ¡°Imagine what?¡± He shrugs and nods once, like he isn¡¯t quite sure. ¡°You know, just¡­ waking up in a ce like this.¡± He fingers the leaves of the fig nt on the counter. I put a fig nt in every home I stage¨Cit¡¯s my calling card of sorts, I guess. ¡°How can you have a bad day waking up in a ce like this?¡± I smile, shoving thest lint roller away in my supply case. ¡°Even people who can afford houses like these have problems, too.¡± I sling my bag over my shoulder. ¡°Everyone has problems.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he counters, pulling the front doors open for us. ¡°I think if I woke up here, I¡¯d be pretty happy.¡± Entering the code to lock the door after pulling them closed, I grab my things and make my first trip to my car. Usually in homes like these, there¡¯s a service bay out back where people like house cleaners, gardeners and repair men enter the property, but because we were essing just the front portion of the home today, we used the front door. ¡°You going into the office?¡± Brandon asks, sliding the copsable stepdder into the bed of his MERCER PROPERTIES pickup truck. When I first started and realized I needed muscle on board to help me getrger pieces where they need to be, I found Brandon in the ssified ads. He had a license, a truck, and no criminal record. After Mercer made me their full-time in-house stager, Brandon joined, too, getting his first everpany truck. I shake my head. ¡°This was all I had on my schedule for today.¡± I pop open my car door. ¡°I¡¯m going to Sutton¡¯s. He¡¯s not showing any properties today so we¡¯re going to work on the wedding ns.¡± Brandon¡¯s smile falters a moment, but he reces it. ¡°See you tomorrow, then. Tell Sutton I said hello.¡±
I didn¡¯t know anything about wine until I met Sutton. Truthfully, I still don¡¯t know much, but I love watching him educate me about wine. He lifts the device off the neck of the bottle, and pats the back of it, sending the cork to the counter. He shoots me a smirk. I smile. ¡°Impressive.¡± ¡°The first bottle of wine I had with you, do you remember identally pushing the cork inside?¡± he asks, abandoning the bottle and the two waiting stemless sses on the counter. He collects me in his arms where I¡¯m sitting atop a barstool, tucked under the kitchen ind. My body melts when Sutton presses kisses to my forehead and hairline. ¡°I¡¯m so d you let me open the bottle on the second date.¡± ¡°I¡¯m so d that picking pieces of cork off your lips didn¡¯t scare you away from a second date,¡± Iugh, remembering our first date very well. I was still all sweaty from staging a home with Brandon, but Sutton would not take no for an answer. I became his girlfriend after our third date, and I¡¯ve seen him every single day since. We almost live together. Almost. He moves back to the wine, filling each ss partially after taking a long, heady pull of the scent. ¡°Tar and roses,¡± he says, wrapping his vein-heavy hand around the ss, which looks tiny,pletely dwarfed by his size. ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound appealing, but I swear to Christ, I love the smell of Barolo.¡± He sips some, then pours a little more. ¡°Did you know that Barolo vineyards have to grow under special conditions?¡± I know this is a lesson, and that the question is rhetorical, but still, I shake my head. Hees to my side of the kitchen ind again, and takes another drink, but instead of swallowing, he presses his lips to mine. With his thumb pinned on my chin, he tugs my mouth open ever so slightly, kissing me, letting the bright red wine trickle from his mouth into mine. After, he nudges my lips closed as our gazes collide. ¡°The first note is sharp, but by the time you swallow, it¡¯s smooth.¡± Right there on the barstool, I think about the singr time that Sutton came in my mouth. He was drunk, we¡¯d been out celebrating one of his biggest sales to date¡ªa historical property in the Pacific Heights. Sutton¡¯s always been great at capping himself at three to four drinks, where he¡¯s still warm and buzzy but not obliterated. That particr night, though, he gotpletely drunk. I was drunk, too, and it resulted in me going down on him in the back of our town car on the drive home. When his thighs tensed beneath my fingertips, and he made that little noise in the back of his throat that he always makes right before hees¡ªI took him deeper. And he let me. And he came so hard, and I swallowed what I could, then swirled the rest of it around in my mouth, tasting, absorbing, memorizing. It was so hot, and so personal. I may have had hime inside me a hundred times, but the intimacy of tasting his cum, feeling him erupt in my mouth¨Cbeing aware of every little twitch and pulse of desire¡ªI came, too. And that¡¯s one of my favorite memories to go back to when I¡¯m using the detachable showerhead in my apartment. He strokes his thumb over my lips, his body heat radiating down on me. ¡°Well?¡± The singr word and electric graze of his finger snaps me back to the present. My pulse hammers in my throat. My hands, slick with sweat, cling to the barstool¡¯s edge, the only thing keeping me upright. I flick my tongue over my lips, chasing the ghost of his wine-vored kiss. ¡°I like it,¡± I murmur, my voice barely audible, my brain scrambled from his proximity¡ªhis heat, his scent, the way his eyes lock onto mine. He¡¯s never done this before, never slipped into this kind of yful intimacy¨C passing wine through a kiss. It sets my nerves on fire, and desire surges through my veins. As we n the wedding, maybe Sutton will slowly unravel like this more often? Maybe there will be more town car back seat moments the closer I am to bing legally his? Maybe he¡¯ll slowly unravel and begin to give and show me more of him, which is all I want. The thought sends a thrill skittering through me, half hope, half hunger. ¡°The grapes have to be grown on a hillside, not in a valley, and not facing the north. And then they require a 36-month aging process after harvest.¡± He brings my ss to me, and ces it in my hand. We sip together, eyes locked, and I want nothing more than Sutton to wonder aloud what Barolo might taste like off of my body, particrly if he licked it from the ce between my legs. ¡°Anyway,¡± he says, flipping open the leather folder sitting in the center of the counter. ¡°We won¡¯t serve this at the wedding. It¡¯s far too informal.¡± I can¡¯t help but smirk as he pours more wine into each of our sses. The way he looks stretched over the counter, bicep torqued, hand flexed¡ªI had no clue how innocuous, harmless movement could be sexy until I met Sutton. I find myself staring at him when he gets dressed, listening to him when he showers, watching him when he loads the groceries into the car. Everything he does, he looks so handsome and sexy, and I¡¯ve never been so blindly, massively, unyieldingly attracted to someone before in my life. Whenever I let myself think about how beautiful and perfect Sutton is, my heart beats a little faster, and electric, crimson res beneath my skin. I shift on my barstool, hit by a normal wave of awe that I have for the love of my life, and smile. ¡°I feel so lucky to be marrying you, even if you¡¯re a pretentious, uppity wine snob.¡± He waggles his brows. ¡°I¡¯ll make you a Mercer first, then I¡¯ll turn you into a pretentious, uppity wine snob.¡± I look down at therge piece of architecture paper strewn out in front of me. ¡°Speaking of snobs,¡± I say, tapping my sharpened pencil on the stretch of paper. ¡°Do you think I could put your dad next to my friend Amelie?¡± Sutton snorts. ¡°Amelie is not a snob.¡± I raise an eyebrow and go for a sip of the Barolo. ¡°Notpared to you, maybe,¡± I tease, which earns me a sultry little wink. Sutton leans over his side of the kitchen ind, sipping wine as he flips through the open folder. After we finalized the guest list in bed this morning, he got everyone¡¯s addresses for the invitations. ¡°I don¡¯t have an address for her. She¡¯s the only one.¡± ¡°She¡¯s between ces right now,¡± I exin to him. ¡°She¡¯s got a new role in Paris in a few months, and didn¡¯t want to lease a ce she¡¯d have to leave right away. So she¡¯s couch surfing.¡± Sutton, wearing a fitted v-neck white t-shirt and ck track pants, his feet bare, moves to the oven where he pulls the stainless door open. Heat fills therge kitchen, and steam clouds him temporarily as he pulls a dutch oven out, sliding onto the top of the stove. ¡°Coq au vin,¡± he says, abandoning his oven mitt to return to our nning while dinner cools. ¡°You made my favorite dinner?¡± I ask about the time-consuming French dish. He nods. ¡°Can someone who couch surfs at age twenty-seven really be considered a snob?¡± hees around to me, pressing his chest into my back, stacking his chin on my shoulder. Reaching across my body, he drags the blunt end of his finger along with faded white and blue paper. That finger¡ªhell, that hand¡ªdrives me wild. Beneath the counter, I pull my legs together, softly and quietly aching for his touch. I know Sutton well. If I were to take his hand and drop it between my legs, writhe against him and beg for him to make mee right there at the bartop with wine and wedding ns out¡ªhe¡¯d look at me like I¡¯d grown a third head. He¡¯d say, ¡°we have a bedroom, Avery.¡± I stroke the side of his cheek as he surveys the seating chart. ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll change as a couple, you know, after we¡¯re married?¡± He turns his head, and though our mouths are right there, he doesn¡¯t steal a kiss. Instead, his eyes drop to my mouth for a moment that makes my belly flutter, then go back to the chart. He taps the spot where I¡¯ve written ¡°Geo.¡± ¡°He¡¯ll give her more than a couch to ride,¡± he says, drawing my focus back to the two seats around the table nearest us. ¡°And I hate that I said that turn of phrase, but unless you want your friend to sleep with my father, I would not sit her there.¡± Cool air stings my back as Sutton pulls away, tending to the dish of hot food waiting on the stove. ¡°And how so?¡± he asks, his back to me. I study the way his body looks beneath the thin cotton t-shirt, how the muscles of his back make my mouth water, and just how pathetically obsessed I am with my fianc¨¦e. Follow current nov?ls on f?ndnovel In my mind, I see my best friend Amelie, her chestnut hair pinned into a seductive messy bun, her long legs on disy from one of her favorite pieces of clothing¡ªtiny skirts. I picture herughing, Geo next to her, his shirt undone a few buttons, his effervescent charm permeating all of her barriers. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I reply, reverting back to my question about our rtionship shifting. ¡°Are you fullyfortable with me? Maybe there¡¯s something about a wedding ring that breaks down any, I don¡¯t know, lingering hesitations?¡± I look back at the seating chart, trying to imagine Amelie next to anyone else, but seated with Geo, Ford, Cade, Kat and Juliette makes the most sense. ¡°How long has your dad, you know, been like that?¡± Sutton snorts as he tes the red-wine based chicken dish. ¡°Been like what? A man who sleeps with anyone and everyone he can?¡± I furrow my brow, confused by that categorization of George Mercer. I mean, I¡¯ve seen him go out with many different women over thest year, but something about implying he¡¯s a heartless manwhore just doesn¡¯t feel right at all. Sutton¡¯s not told me much about his mother Margot, who married Geo young, and passed away when Sutton was just eight years old. Nodding, I say, ¡°Yeah, you know. How long has he been a womanizer?¡± That feels like a more fitting term for what Sutt is describing, and I refuse to even once say ¡°manwhore¡± aloud in reference to my future father-inw. He licks his thumb, cleaning the traces of food. ¡°From what I remember?¡± he asks, arranging the food on my te. ¡°His entire life.¡± I lick my lips, nerves curling my insides as I move my fingers over the edge of the seating chart. Sutton is going to be my husband, and Geo will be my father-inw. Knowing about his mother isn¡¯t outside of reason, still, I feel like I¡¯m tiptoeing into a ce I don¡¯t belong. ¡°Even before your mom passed?¡± I don¡¯t think Sutton would ever cheat on me. I¡¯m not asking because I¡¯m worried he¡¯ll turn into Geo. His eyes lift from the beautiful ting of food, ande to mine. ¡°I like knowing everything about you, including your past. And your family,¡± I respond quietly. Sutton brings me my food, taking care to roll up the seating chart and push it away. He even drapes a linen napkin over my bare legs before sitting next to me, pulling my barstool as close to his as possible. I smirk. ¡°Our elbows are going to bump while we eat.¡± He winks. ¡°Good.¡± He never answers my question about his father, and if he slept around on Margot all those years ago. Maybe his silence is the answer, and verbalizing it is just too painful? Or maybe not. We eat in rtive silence, because the food is so good, but all the while I keep thinking¨CGeo Mercer is a man who cheated on his wife? I didn¡¯t know him when Margot was alive and when they were married, and I¡¯ve only known Geo for a year but still¡­ that information leaves me more confused than before. Father Knows Best: Chapter 4 The Mistake ¡°I still think it¡¯s pretty cool that you two work together and you know, don¡¯t drive each other batshit crazy,¡± Amelie says, dusting the parmesan crumbles from her french fry. I shake my head, pushing my hair behind my shoulder before bringing my spoon to my lips. ¡°Why order the parmesan fries if you¡¯re going to dust all the parmesan off?¡± She plucks another fry from the te. ¡°Because I like the essence of parm,¡± she smiles yfully. ¡°Anyway, let me see that freaking ring again.¡± Extending my hand to her, she slides her sunnies down the bridge of her nose before grabbing my hand and sighing. ¡°Fuck me.¡± ¡°I know.¡± She shakes her head, releasing me to shove her sses back on and sip her Diet Coke. ¡°I already know he¡¯s rich, has good taste and looks like a finger bang in a suit. Now just confirm he¡¯s packing.¡± I roll my eyes. I don¡¯t need to tell her I¡¯m not confirming that, because she already knows that I will not. ¡°Don¡¯t call him a finger bang in a suit.¡± She waves me off. ¡°Fine, don¡¯t tell me. I already know. That type of man oozes BDE.¡± My cheeks re at the memory of Sutton sliding into me this morning, missionary, before the sun came up, sleep still heavy in our bodies. We made love slowly, and he held himself deep inside me when he filled me, kissing the soft spot behind my ear. It was intense and perfect, and while I came twice, it almost felt like edging more than anything. Because I¡¯m squirmy in my seat as I recall the memory, wanting him even more than I did just hours ago. ¡°Anyway,¡± I take another spoonful of soup as Sutton returns to the table, holding his tie to his body as he sits. ¡°We were just talking about¨C¡± Amelie starts, wearing an expression that says my filter is off and I¡¯m about to embarrass you, I interject. ¡°The seating arrangement. I told Amelie she¡¯s going to be seated next to your father.¡± I reach for his hand beneath the table, and he ces it on his knee. My stomach tightens. I stare at the side of his profile as he banters with my friend, and wonder if he even knows just how much I want him, and all the things I¡¯m dying to explore together. The two of them chat about our honeymoon ns¡ªSutton is whisking us away to Bora Bora for a week of unplugged bliss¡ªand when we¡¯re done eating, he takes my hand and helps me up, having paid the bill when he excused himself earlier. After kissing Amelie goodbye, he guides me to the curb where he¡¯s parked. ¡°Ready?¡± With his hand on the small of my back, he helps me inside then joins, driving us to our afternoon appointment. On behalf of Mercer Properties, I staged a not-yet-listed propertyst week. Today, Sutton and I are headed there with the photographer to take listing photos, as well as walking the appraiser through the property. It will be the first time Sutton is seeing my work on this specific home, and I¡¯m excited. In truth, I¡¯m always excited on the days we get to work together. Amelie thinks it¡¯s crazy we can work together and be married, but if I could add more Sutton to my life somehow, I would. ¡°You know, with the wedding in just a few months,¡± he begins, splitting his focus between the buzzing city streets and me. ¡°You should officially move in.¡± He reaches for me, linking our hands, bringing them to restfortably atop the center console. ¡°I practically live at your home already¡± I tell him, stroking my thumb over his knuckles, loving the size of his hand against mine. His size usurps me in all ways, and I love knowing that he could use his size to his advantage and have me, in any position possible. He doesn¡¯t, but just knowing he could sets my body aze. ¡°Practically isn¡¯t the same.¡± He surprises me by kissing my knuckles, steering his car with one hand. ¡°I called our preferred movers.¡± Wee to a stop and he shes me a gorgeous smile. ¡°They¡¯re avable to move you out of your apartment and into my home tomorrow.¡± ¡°And how much did that cost you?¡± I prod, because I know Sutton. If he wants me to be moved in, he¡¯ll make it happen. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. All that matters is that you say yes.¡± He elerates as the GPS calls for him to turn, and a few momentster, the property is in view. ¡°Is that a yes?¡± I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent a childish grin from stretching my lips. ¡°Did you really think I would say no?¡± I¡¯ve been wanting him to ask me this since I became his girlfriend, but at our six month anniversary he made it clear that he doesn¡¯t do roommates, not without nuptials on the horizon. He shrugs as he pulls into the long, winding service driveway of the property, turning the GPS off. ¡°I¡¯d hoped you¡¯d say yes, and Jerry owed me a favor.¡± Jerry was a friend of Brandon¡¯s, who was struggling to get back onto his feet after a stint in jail left him jobless. We used to hire him to help move pieces that I couldn¡¯t help Brandon with, and when Sutton took us on, I told him about Jerry. I exined to him that Jerry, while he¡¯d only worked with us a handful of times, was hard-working and kind, and didn¡¯t just move furniture like most paid movers. He moved things like he paid for them with his own money, and in the handful of jobs we did together, not a single item was scratched or dented, which is rare in the moving business. My fianc¨¦e is just one of those men that quietly helps others live their best lives, and doesn¡¯t feel the need to make a show of it. He didn¡¯t im a stake in Jerry¡¯s life being exponentially better, and he doesn¡¯t remind Jerry or anyone else that he had a hand. He just helps, and silently cheers on the people who thrive because of his assistance. Everything about Sutton Mercer is an aphrodisiac. He walks around the vehicle and opens my car door, extending a hand. I feel like a morous movie star being helped to my feet when he opens my door. Cherished. Special. Important. That¡¯s always how he makes me feel. He carries my purse for me as he holds my hand, dragging his thumb over our knuckles. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see it,¡± he says to me, voice raspy and quiet, not with intention, but nheless my insides re. His lips dust my temple before he inputs the code, and opens the back door. The mud room is chilly, and immediately my nipples stiffen beneath the draped silk red dress I put on today. Sutton lets go of my hand and slips out to the car, returning a few secondster with my sweater. After a wink that makes me molten, he feeds my arms through and tugs my hair from the cor, letting it fall down my back. ¡°I don¡¯t want you cold,¡± he says, and his eyes drop to my chest for less than a split second beforeing back to mine. ¡°This is better.¡± The rightful source is find?novel I get the impression that he didn¡¯t want the photographer to see my nipples, and just knowing that Sutton was thinking of my nipples being stiff makes me hot. Everything about my fianc¨¦ turns me into a quietly obsessive sixteen-year-old girl¨Cbut then, as I follow Sutton through the butler¡¯s pantry into theundry room, then into the kitchen, I wonder if this is just grown, adult love? Maybe real, pure, unadulterated love is obsessive and passionate, and maybe it¡¯s normal for me to be breathless at the sight of him with his shirt off even though I¡¯ve seen it a thousand times or more. Maybe it¡¯s just the sign of a healthy adult rtionship, the way that I get turned on at the idea of him being vulgar with me, spitting into my mouth oring on my face. Wanting someone so much must be a symptom of the realest form of love, of that much I¡¯ve convinced myself by the time Sutton turns to face me, awe in his expression. ¡°Avery Rose Bet,¡± he says, shaking his head, cing one of his rousing hands along his lower abdomen. ¡°The ce looks absolutely phenomenal.¡± I swipe my hands down the soft charmeuse fabric, hoping I don¡¯t leave a trace of my nerves behind. He¡¯s liked everything I¡¯ve ever done, and yet, my stomach still knots while I wait for his response. All I ever want to do is make him proud, because he makes me so proud. ¡°Looks kinda familiar, huh?¡± I tease, pretending to survey the tan roller shades covering thergest window in the room. ¡°Soluna shades,¡± I say aloud, hoping the re in my cheeks dies down. His strong fingers loop my wrist, spinning me to face him. Landing gently against his chest, Sutton leans down and surprises me with a kiss. ¡°Looks like our home,¡± he breathes, a partial smirk gracing his full lips. I nod at him, ¡°our home,¡± I repeat, testing the words. Our. We¡¯ve been a couple for a year, but somehow knowing that we are going from our as boyfriend and girlfriend to our as husband and wife electrifies me. He kisses me again, this time slipping me his tongue, strokingnguidly and slowly against mine. When he pulls back, he shakes his head a little, adding, ¡°it was never a home on the nights you weren¡¯t there.¡± My heart flutters wildly as I melt into his kiss, a helpless smile curving against his warm lips. ¡°I¡¯m there every night except for two.¡± He shakes his head, tucking my hair behind my ear. ¡°I cry myself to sleep both of those nights,¡± he deadpans. ¡°It¡¯s my saddest secret.¡± I try to stifle augh, but a snortes out, and it makes Sutton smile. ¡°You did a beautiful job, my beautiful fianc¨¦e. And I¡¯m d you¡¯re moving in tomorrow. And I¡¯m even more happy that in a few weeks,¡± he says, finding my hand, ¡°you¡¯ll be Mrs. Sutton Mercer, and I will make all of San Francisco jealous.¡± ¡°I think every woman in San Francisco hates me for taking you off the market,¡± I reply, catching his hand with mine as he strokes his fingers down my hair. My heart is absolutely putting my ribs to the test as I inhale a breath through my nose, desperate to steady my nerves. We¡¯re alone. My body is buzzing from his words, the way he kissed me with his tongue¨Cwhich he usually only does at home¡ªand with talk of our wedding earlier, me moving in tomorrow¡ªI let my most private desires take control and I grow bold. Bolder than I¡¯ve ever been before. I move his hand from my hair to my center, using my other hand to lift the hem of my dress. Bringing his hand to my panties, I hold it there, our eyes locked, his breathing hitched. My mouth falls open, and his eyes dart to my split lips. My ears ache from the way my pulse echoes in them, and with each second that passes, regret gnaws at the mes of my arousal. ¡°Avery,¡± he starts, taking his hand off my thong, gently lifting my hand from the hem of my dress. The red fabric rushes over my skin, covering me, and Sutton closes his hands around mine, eyes searching mine. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I rush out, my eyes burning with humiliated tears. I¡¯ve never initiated anything sexual with Sutton, because I like when he is in control¡ªwhen he guides our sex life, it gives me insight as to what he enjoys, and knowing what makes him aroused is arousing to me. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have¨C¡± I don¡¯t get to finish that sentence. ¡°Hey.¡± He pulls me closer. ¡°Avery,¡± he says, his voice growing soft. He takes my face in his hands, and forces me to look at him. I pray a tear doesn¡¯t fall. How embarrassing to initiate being touched and to be rejected, then to cry about it. I want to melt. I should have known that he would not want to do this here. I know Sutton. ¡°That kiss,¡± I breathe, referring to the way he slid his tongue against mine. ¡°I just thought¨C¡± This time, he doesn¡¯t interject, but still, my sentence dies on the vine. ¡°It¡¯s not because I don¡¯t want it, or want you. You have no idea how much I want you, Avery. Your little moans, your whimpers, all those sweet, soft noises you make when I¡¯m over you,¡± he kisses me, keeping a finger pressed to my chin, ¡°when I¡¯m inside you,¡± he continues. ¡°Those are too special to spread around. I don¡¯t want some appraiser or photographer hearing the way youe undone. Those are my noises, they¡¯re for me. Only me.¡± I nod my head as he pulls me into a deep kiss, heat shing through me from so much contact with him. I thought with that kiss, I¡¯d put his hand there and his eyes would roll closed and he¡¯d make mee, and we¡¯d get through this appraisal and photography session with a dirty little secret between us. And as soon as everyone left, he¡¯d put me in the car andmand me to suck him on the drive home, because he¡¯d been hard all day after touching me. I thought that hot and messy kiss was a step forward, toward what we¡¯ll explore once I¡¯m officially a Mercer. But I see now that this setting wasn¡¯t the best ce, and that Sutton will unravel for me best in privacy. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I say again, because I¡¯m not sure what else to say. I wanted this, yes, but not at the expense of making Sutton ufortable. Had it been the other way around and I hadn¡¯t wanted to get physical and he¡¯d initiated¡ªonly in theory, of course, because I don¡¯t think Sutton could ever approach me for oral sex or any kind of sex and find me not in the mood. But he¡¯s different. And I knew and know that much. This was my mistake. Another kiss as he sweeps his fingers through the sides of my hair, then smooths his hands along my hips, righting the soft fabric of my crimson dress. ¡°Tonight,¡± he assures me. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to have you tonight. In our home.¡± I nod my head. ¡°Our home.¡± ¡°Mr. Mercer?¡± A voice calls, and the appraiser arrives. Father Knows Best: Chapter 5 The Vows Keats, Wordsworth, Dickinson, Byron. The ssic romantic poets are strewn before me, their most poignant words on love highlighted, tabbed, screaming out for me to analyze. Except, I have read through these. I¡¯ve read the most arresting, adoring, angsty passages out of all of these. Still. I have no clue what to write. Getting to my feet, I make an espresso, and while the machine works, I make a phone call. ¡°Sutton? Are you okay?¡± my Uncle Ford asks, the sound of booming bass and soft chatter filling in the line around him. He¡¯s likely at one of his bars, and while it¡¯s only going on noon, time and day of the week doesn¡¯t really matter to high end club clientele. ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± I answer, sliding the demitasse cup onto a saucer, walking back to where my notebook and pencil are lying helplessly at my kitchen ind. ¡°But you¡¯re calling me on a work day. In the middle of a work day, in fact,¡± Ford says, his voice filled with curiosity. At just thirty-five years old, I¡¯ve managed to build a reputation as a man who never stops working, not unlike my Uncle Ford, or even my father. I pinch the bridge of my nose as I settle into the stool. ¡°I took today off to get things done for the wedding.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± I let out a long, heavy sigh, but I don¡¯t feel any better after. ¡°I¡¯m working on my vows.¡± Despite the fact that my Uncle Ford is and has been single for some time, he was the poster boy of a happy husband years ago, before my aunt passed. Uncle Ford and my Aunt Katherine adored one another, and I remember, even as a kid, when my aunt passed, wondering how Uncle Ford would ever move on with his life. He loved her so much¨CI think collectively, most people worried more for him than his kids. Kat¨Cshort for Katherine, after her mother¨Cand Cade were just four and six when Katherine lost her fight with cancer. I¡¯ve never seen or heard of my uncle being in a rtionship since, and that was many, many years ago. A man who loves that hard is a man to ask for wedding vow advice. ¡°And I¡¯mpletely lost,¡± I add, waiting for Ford to jump in. Finally, heughs. ¡°Shut that door for me, won¡¯t you sweetheart?¡± he says, voice muffled from his hand over the receiver. A door clicks closed somewhere in his setting. ¡°Struggling with your vows, eh? We wrote ours, too.¡± I sip the espresso, enjoying the immediate jolt of focus that hits my brain with the first taste. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that,¡± I admit. ¡°Yeah, we did. Katie¨C¡± he pauses after speaking her name¨Cher nickname. Only Uncle Ford called my Aunt Katie. We all called her Katherine, like Katie was only for him to use. It¡¯s not like the nickname was special or created in a moment of hrity¡ªstill, Katie was just what Uncle Ford called her, and hearing him speak her nickname aloud gives us both pause. ¡°Katie wanted to write our own vows. Since we weren¡¯t active in the church, repeating church vows felt disingenuous to her,¡± he remembers aloud. ¡°How¡¯d you know what to write?¡± I ask him, staring down into thest few sips of caffeine. I may feel more alert, but I¡¯m no closer to vows. It may be time to switch from caffeine to booze. ¡°Becuase I took today off to get my vows done, and to finish unpacking the rest of Avery¡¯s stuff. I¡¯ve already unpacked everything the movers leftst weekend, cleaned the house, and gone for a run. It¡¯s noon and my mind is nk.¡± Fordughs. ¡°You can¡¯t force it just because you want to make the most of a vacation day, Sutton.¡± I sigh. ¡°That¡¯s my fear.¡± ¡°They shoulde from the heart, be honest and real. It should be whates into your mind when you think about Avery, andmitting to her forever.¡± He pauses. ¡°You went to the bookstore and purchased the romantic ssics, didn¡¯t you?¡± I look at the pile of books with the most popr parts highlighted. ¡°No.¡± Heughs. ¡°Yes, you did.¡± I sigh. ¡°Fine, I did. And not only do I still not know what to write, but after reading some of these, I¡¯m starting to wonder if I can even write vows myself.¡± I flip open the Emily Dickinson book to a neon yellow tab ced there by the girl working the bookstore counter. I¡¯d purchased these booksst week, and paid her extra to tab everything that may help a person write wedding vows. I drop my finger to the line and read it aloud. ¡°I think of love, and you, and my heart grows full and warm, and my breath stands still.¡± Ford chuckles. ¡°You¡¯re not a Dickinson man, Sutton. You¡¯re not a Lord Byron man, and you will not find a single line in anything Shakepeare has written that you can truly identify with. The vows need toe from you. You¡¯re oveplicating it.¡± I scratch my head and get to my feet, abandoning the books in favor of pacing the length of my living room. ¡°I think you¡¯re probably right.¡± My uncleughs. ¡°My best advice is to close your eyes and imagine Avery in that gown, standing in front of you, every whispered dream in the dark stretched out before you. What do you want to say to her?¡± I close my eyes, and do what my uncle suggests, imagining Avery in a white gown, roses in her hands, blinking up at me, my name on her lips. I would want her to know that I love her more than I¡¯ve ever loved anyone, more than I thought I could love anyone, in a way that I didn¡¯t think existed until I met her. I want to promise her a life of guaranteed happiness¡ªbecause I vow to work as hard as I can every single day to make sure she¡¯s happy. ¡°Well slow down now, don¡¯t say everything at once or you won¡¯t remember,¡± Ford jokes. Iugh too. ¡°No¨CI actually think that helped me. I may have been overthinking it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m positive you were overthinking it, Sutton, that¡¯s what you do.¡± He sighs. ¡°Did you ask George for advice with this?¡± ¡°No,¡± I reply, shoving my free hand in the kangaroo pocket on my hoodie, I pace across the length of my living space, approaching the window facing my private drive. Two cars are heading up, and speak of the devil, I recognize one. From the side table near the couch, I grab my baseball hat and tug it onto my head. ¡°Actually, my father is just pulling up with someone else. I don¡¯t know why he¡¯s here. I¡¯ll have to call you back, Uncle Ford.¡± ¡°Hey¨C¡± my uncle¡¯s voice rises, and I stop near my front door, focusing on him. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Ask Geo about your vows. He and your mother wrote theirs, too.¡± I think about that. Did I know that? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I have zero ns to ask my father for advice rted to weddings or rtionships. ¡°He¡¯s thest person I¡¯m asking for advice.¡± ¡°Sutton¨C¡± My uncle interjects but my father¡¯s car door opens, and so does the door of the vehicle who came with him. A tall man with silvering hair and broad shoulders, wearing what I recognize to be Kiton Italian cashmere suit, steps out of his vehicle¡ªa brand new Bentley Bentaga¡ªand shakes my father¡¯s hand. ¡°I have to go, Uncle Ford. Thanks for the advice. I¡¯ll call youter.¡± ¡°Talk to your father, Sutt. Okay? Promise me?¡± Ford asks before I offer him an empty ¡°sure,¡± and end the call.
Thankfully I went for a long run today, and have a reason to be wearing track pants, sneakers, a hoodie and baseball cap in the middle of a Tuesday. I may be out of office today, but a vacation day does not typically equate to not getting properly dressed. Today was a special exception¨Cstress. I¡¯d nned to finish unpacking Avery, have a run, finish my vows and then put a few unexpected hours in at the office. Normally I do not care for pop ins, but anything to give me momentary respite from these vows. I love Avery. But finding the words for that love, in front of our friends and family, is where I struggle. I pull open my back door and take the few steps down to the drive, adjusting the Giants baseball cap on my head. ¡°Sutton,¡± my father greets, adjusting the tie at his throat as he approaches, suited man in tow. I nod my head at my father, and reach past him, extending my hand to the other man. He reaches, and shakes hands. The man looks familiar, like someone I¡¯ve seen on Extra after the news is over in the evenings. ¡°Sutton Mercer,¡± I introduce myself. ¡°Quincey Parker,¡± he greets, and the fancy suit and gleaming clip on his tie suddenly click in ce. He¡¯s an attorney¡ªa famous divorce attorney for jilted wives in the greater San Francisco area. I have in fact seen him on TV, when he won arge settlement case for a socialite just a few months ago. ¡°Quincey, this is my son, the top sales agent at Mercer,¡± my father says, shoving his hands in his suit pockets as he stands between us. ¡°Sutton, this is Quincey Parker, he¡¯s an attorney at Parker and Pen, here in the city.¡± I nod my head. ¡°I¡¯m familiar. I think I just saw you on Extra a few weeks ago.¡± He rolls his eyes. ¡°I fucking hate that shit. Those faux gossip news shows that highlight the worst parts of total strangers¡¯ lives. It¡¯s sick.¡± I nod my head again. ¡°I agree.¡± ¡°Anyway,¡± my father wastes no time, and I never had a question as to why he showed up here. Property. A Sale. Money. That¡¯s the only thing between my father and I, so when he brings a client here, I know it¡¯s because he needs the keys, code, information or something property-rted. ¡°Quincey is interested in one of our properties in the FiDi,¡± my father says as I pull open the back door and guide the two men inside. We end up around my kitchen ind¡ªwhich seems to be a central hangout spot for the floor n. When I purchased this a few years ago, I knocked down a few non-load-bearing walls to make the main living space and kitchen run together, with private formal and semi-formal dining adjacent. The open space brings a ton of natural light, and allows for informal meetings, like this. ¡°Can I get you a drink, Quincey?¡± I ask, knowing full well that the girl was here this morning, restocking the fridges with everything Avery likes. Now that she¡¯s officially moved in and unpacked, tonight is our first night together without boxes and a to-do list lingering. I thought we¡¯d celebrate with a nice meal in, maybe some time in the jacuzzi, all with her favorite things¨Cthe fridge stocked with her favorite sparkling waters, fresh sliced peaches (her favorite snack), her favorite Lush shower and bath products beneath every sink in the house, and a grossly oversized Voluspa candle in the center of the ind, next to, of course, two dozen long stemmed red roses. Quincey, his hands in his suit pockets, stares at the roses on the counter for a moment, seemingly dazed. My father clears his throat, which breaks the trance, and he shakes his head. ¡°No, nothing to drink for me.¡± I take my espresso demitasse cup and ce it in the sink basin, and adjust the hat on my head. ¡°FiDi¨CKat not around?¡± I ask my father, because my cousin holds the listings to all of our properties in the financial district, which he is fully and wholly aware of. I don¡¯t wear the face of confusion, not to cause concern for Quincey or the sale of the property, but instead ask, ¡°Is she already working a deal today?¡± I don¡¯t get the answer to Kat, not right away, because Quincey narrows his gaze, nodding toward my notebook, pen and the ssics strewn about. ¡°Your father tells me today is one of just a few days in thest few years that you took vacation.¡± He looks pointedly at my vow prep and asks, ¡°what are you working on, if you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡± Quincey Parker is here because he¡¯s going to buy a property that is in the multi millions. As much as I¡¯d like to tell him that talking about writing the most personal thing I¡¯ve ever had to write makes me want to stick that pen through my eye, I don¡¯t, because Mercer Properties wants his business. I look down at the paper, nk except for an address¡ªthe location where Avery and her team are working today. I look back up at Quincey. ¡°Wedding vows. I¡¯m getting married in a month and we decided to write our own vows.¡± ¡°Congrattions on the engagement.¡± Quincey smiles, and not a typical millionaire smile either¨Cit¡¯s genuine and warm, and he even reaches out, collecting the Best of Lord Byron from the counter. ¡°I got marriedst year,¡± he says, flipping through the clerk¡¯s noted passages in the book. He peers up from the pages, eyeing me. ¡°You gonna use any of this?¡± I shake my head. ¡°Doubtful. I¡¯ve been advised to write from the heart,¡± I tell him, shoving my hands in my pockets. My father, a man that cannot stand a conversation taking ce without his two cents, says, ¡°the most rewarding feeling in the entire world is giving the person you love everything they want.¡± My father, the very same man who has spoken myte mother¡¯s name less than a handful of times since I was a fucking child, who has fucked more women than a rockstar on a world tour, who at age fifty-eight still gets regr blood tests for STDs, decides to chime in with marriage advice. Geo Mercer should be grateful that Quincey Parker has thoughts to add to that. Because I¡¯m about to counter my father¡¯s im with a dose of reality, when Quincey speaks up. ¡°Everything meaning, emotional fulfillment?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± he replies, smiling at Quincey. ¡°I n on only giving my wife everything she wants, not every woman under the sun.¡± As soon as the snark hits, like allments, I feel worse. Not because the pathetic lilt on my father¡¯s face at thement makes me feel guilty. I do not feel guilt over speaking truthfully or how that truth makes him feel, but I do feel regret appearing unprofessional in front of a client. ???s ??????? ?s ?????? ?? ?ovelFind ¡°Well,¡± Quincey buttons his coat, smiling a bit awkwardly. ¡°Good luck on the vows and¨C¡± he turns to my father. ¡°I¡¯ve got about an hour left before I¡¯m due back. Can we get those keys?¡± My father pulls his phone out, taps around a bit then hands it to me. ¡°The keys are in your safe.¡± Years ago, we decided to putmercial keys in my safe, residential spare keys in my father¡¯s, and the codes to the pad locks in the Mercer Properties safe. This came as a direct result of an angry man who lost his home at auction after a painful divorce. He stormed down to Mercer and demanded the keys, said he was taking the property back. When we told him no, he took all the keys, and eventually found the key to his former property. He used them to terrorize the new family who had just moved in. It was a whole fucking thing, but it led us to moving the keys to safes outside of Mercer, for everyone¡¯s safety. We¡¯ve never had to ess these, because most properties have a key in a lockbox on the door. Sometimes, though, the boxes malfunction or are stolen and we¡¯re forced to use the spare. ¡°Excuse me, I¡¯m just going to get the keys,¡± I tell Quincey before dipping out to my office upstairs to retrieve the key. On my heels, my father follows me, and closes the office door once we¡¯re both inside. The only reason I regret myment is this¨Chaving to handle whatever he¡¯s going to say next. After opening the safe and finding just what we need, I close it and turn, letting out an exasperated sigh, holding the keys in a man envelope, FINANCIAL DISTRICT #22 written in Sharpie on the outside. ¡°What?¡± ¡°After I¡¯m done with Quincey, I¡¯d like toe back and talk to you.¡± His voice is unwavering and calm. ¡°About what?¡± Sweat forms under the baseball hat, and I have the strongest urge to yank it off and waffle my fingers through my hair for a second, just to cool down, to breathe. But I don¡¯t. I stand there, the folder in my hand, and stare at the man who created me, whom I have nothing but real estate and DNA inmon with. ¡°Will you be here? If Ie back in an hour or so?¡± he asks, his eyes not wandering around the room. I shrug. ¡°Yeah, I guess. I¡¯m working on my vows before Avery gets back.¡± He reaches out and takes the man folder without another word, and then I follow him back downstairs, where Quincey is waiting at the ind, flipping through Emily Dickinson. ¡°It was nice meeting you,¡± I tell Quincey, shaking his hand. ¡°You too, Sutton. And congrattions again on your engagement.¡± I nod. ¡°Thanks.¡± I nce at my father, and find his eyes already on me, tired and heavy. ¡°Thank you son.¡± Quincey turns around. ¡°Good luck with the vows. And you¡¯re right¡ªfrom the heart, that¡¯s all she wants¨Cto know what¡¯s in your heart.¡± He nces at my father then me before adding, ¡°But spoil her, too, because that never hurts.¡± Father Knows Best: Chapter 6 The Fight Thankfully Quincey was already sold on the property, based on the excellent photos our staff photographer took for the listing. Once we arrived at the building, it merely took a singr walk through before he decided. He¡¯d already seen the inspections and run all the numbers¡ªafter discovering the property to be in the shape and condition that was promised, he signed. Mymission on properties like this is usually two percent, but because a person like Quincey Parker can rmend us to both clients and contemporaries, I dropped it to one percent, which means today I¡¯m earning $150,000 inmission, and I sold another property in the FiDist week, clocking my two percentmission on a thirty-million dor medical building. All things considered, I should be happy. This text is hosted at Find_Novel(. But when I put my SUV into park in my son¡¯s driveway not more than three hourster, I¡¯m nearly shaking. Not every father and son has to be the type to go fishing together, restore an old car together, to call me up and ask me for advice or to go golfing. That¡¯s some fathers with their sons, but that is not me and Sutton. Not because I don¡¯t want to be close with my only son¨Cmy only child. I do. I always have. Though I told him I¡¯d return and he¡¯s got a security system with cameras, a Ring doorbell with video feed, still¨CI knock. A momentter, Sutton answers the back door, a ss of whiskey in his hand. Instead of a hoodie, he¡¯s now in a white t-shirt and jeans, messy hair damp. Writing the vows have taken their toll on him, or¡ª I nce at my watch. ¡°Is this a bad time?¡± He doesn¡¯t reply, only shrugs, and turns, heading back inside. On the kitchen ind, the books and notepad are no longer there, and in their ce, are steaks on a baking sheet, the makings of dinner scattered around. ¡°Avery¡¯s on her way home,¡± he tells me as he sets his drink down and moves to the sink, washing his hands. I loosen the tie around my neck, but leave my jacket on. Something tells me I¡¯m not wee for more than a few minutes, and I surely won¡¯t be invited to stay for dinner. When Sutton and Avery got serious, I wanted to talk to him about¡­ fuck, I don¡¯t know. His life? His mother? Our rtionship? I didn¡¯t know exactly what to say or how to bring it up, all that I knew is that I wanted our next phase of life to be better, happier, and closer. I¡¯d hoped that falling in love would soften Sutton¡¯s hardness toward me, but with his wedding in just a few weeks, I¡¯m afraid hoping isn¡¯t enough. I have tomunicate. ¡°She staging a home today?¡± I ask, knowing of course the answer is yes because Avery works just as hard as Sutton, and if she isn¡¯t by my son¡¯s side, she¡¯s working. He nods, cracking pepper into a bowl, moving for the Himyan salt. Looking around, I notice a long sectional in the living space has a handful of colorful throw pillows, and on the open-air shelf adjacent to the range hood, a few colorful mugs are upturned, too. ¡°Did she officially move in?¡± I ask, fully aware that these could be his touches, everything normal. I wouldn¡¯t know¡ª Sutton doesn¡¯t invite me over. We don¡¯t have family dinners or stop-ins unrted to real estate. And I suppose that is my fault. He nods again, slipping on a glove as he kneads his seasoning mixture into the cut of raw meat. ¡°Yes, over thest week. I finished unpacking everything today, in fact.¡± I nod my head, officially out of small talk. Two questions and I have nothing left to say to my son, and if that¡¯s not heartbreaking, I don¡¯t know what is. ¡°Sutton, I wanted to talk to you about thement you made earlier.¡± I don¡¯t name the specific remark, because he¡¯s aware. ¡°Do you think Quincey Parker cares? He¡¯s gonna buy the property regardless of who you are beyond some glossy photo on a bus stop bench,¡± he says, taking another snipe at my choice to market Mercer Properties around the city, using my face. ¡°I don¡¯t think my choice of marketing is what¡¯s on your mind,¡± I say slowly, noticing the way his shoulders lift, tension flowing through them. I bring my son stress and tension, and that¡¯s another heartbreaking strike. He abandons the meat, bracing his free hand against the counter, lifting his eyes to mine. ¡°Say what you came here to say.¡± My chest goes concave. ¡°Why don¡¯t you say what you have to say,¡± I suggest, ¡°since?¡ª¡± ¡°Next time you need property keys, text me and tell me. I don¡¯t want to entertain some stranger and hear your ridiculously hypocritical views on marriage.¡± Blinking, I watch as his nostrils re and his chest gently rises, anger flowing through him with ease at just the mention of marriage, and thement I made earlier. My son has been aloof and high strung since he was a preteen. Thest time he was carefree was when his mother was alive. Neither of us were the same after losing Margot. ¡°I¡¯ve always thought that you were cold and aloof with me because that¡¯s who yourgely are with everyone. Or that losing your mother turned you into this version of yourself and that you take out your anger on me, because I¡¯m your father. But now I have to wonder ¡ª who exactly do you think I am?¡± The back door opens, the home security system announcing it, followed by the gentle sigh of Avery. A momentter she appears in the kitchen, her blonde hair twisted into a messy bun on top of her head. Wearing a fitted v-neck crop top and little leggings and sneakers, she drops her purse and keys on the counter, and ces her palm over her forehead, sighing. ¡°No more mansions for at least a week. I¡¯m absolutely exhausted,¡± she announces, and I watch like a voyeur as my son collects his fianc¨¦e in his arms, and smothers her in affection¡ªkisses on her cheek, lips, along her jaw and down her throat. She giggles in his arms, writhing against him affectionately until I clear my throat, making my presence known before this goes any farther. He knows I¡¯m here, but he¡¯s doing his best to ignore me, per usual. ¡°Oh, Geo,¡± she says, slipping out of his arms as he res at me, returning to his dinner prep. ¡°How are you?¡± I smile at my future daughter-inw. ¡°I¡¯m okay, Avery. How are you?¡± Heat blooms around my heart when Avery smiles at me, because her smile is not just sweet and beautiful, of course, but genuine too. She may be the only woman I know who gives me a genuine smile. ¡°I¡¯m doing well. Stopped by earlier to grab some keys for a property in the Financial District.¡± Avery bobs her head to show me she¡¯s listening as she fills a kettle at the sink and slides it over a burner, turning it on. ¡°Tea?¡± she asks, but I shake my head, and before I can say no, Sutton interjects. ¡°He was just leaving,¡± he deadpans, nudging a piece of dark hair out of his eye with the back of his wrist. Sutton¡¯s dark hair reminds me of my youth, and the way I looked when I met Margot, his mother. Avery tips her head to the side as she collects a bright blue mug from the shelf, raising to her toes to reach it. ¡°Did you get the keys you need? I can grab them since Sutt is busy.¡± I shake my head. ¡°I came by earlier for that. Sold the property, actually.¡± She brings her hands together in a slow motion p, pressing her fingertips into her chin. ¡°Congrattions, Geo! That¡¯s wonderful.¡± I only smile in return, and after the moment fades, her brows pull together. ¡°But you came back? Here?¡± Even my future daughter-inw is surprised to see me here, even though we are indeed father and son who also run a multi-million dorpany together. This energy between us has be normal, and I want to undo it before I be a grandfather. Looking at Avery, there¡¯s no way my son is going to marry her and not have her pregnant within the damn minute. I have little time to rectify what feels like a lifetime of pissing him off, just by being me. ¡°I did,¡± I confirm, waiting for my son to look at me. ¡°I was hoping to speak with Sutton.¡± Avery¡¯s face droops a little as she tugs a teabag from a jar she got from the walk-in pantry. ¡°Oh. I¡¯ll make myself scarce¨Cjust let me get my tea.¡± I reach out and take her hand, squeezing gently, which finally gets Sutton looking my way. Actually, he¡¯s ring at the ce where my hand holds Avery¡¯s hand. ¡°You can stay, actually. We¡¯re going to be family very soon, and I¡¯m not adverse to you being in the room for any conversations with Sutton.¡± I pull out a barstool, despite the fact that I have not been invited to stay. He¡¯ll never invite me, so I choose to sit down. ¡°I don¡¯t want to discuss anything with you,¡± Sutton says, tone high, straddling the fine line between impatient and full-on irritated. ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate, son, because I¡¯d love to know what you meant by thement you made when Quincey Parker was here.¡± I think about the property on the line, and if Quincey was a different kind of man¡ªI could have missed out on that sale today. ¡°You¡¯ve not said two words to me that had any sort of meaning behind them since you were a boy and today, while a multi-million dor property is on the line, you chose to make a passive aggressivement about my life choices, or, really, your limited perception of my life¡¯s choices?¡± Avery looks at Sutton, letting the tea bag fall idly into the mug. ¡°What did you say?¡± Sutton lets out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. ¡°We were supposed to have a nice dinner in tonight,¡± he says, more to himself than either myself or Avery. I don¡¯t want this smart, thoughtful woman, who I might add has be an invaluable addition to Mercer Properties, bing my daughter-inw with her head full of ideas that I¡¯m¡­ Jesus, I don¡¯t even know what Sutton believes. I put him in therapy after Margot¡¯s death. It was all I could do. Every time I pulled him into myp and held him, I wanted to ask him if he wanted to talk about what happened, if he wanted to talk about her or if he had questions or¡ªI don¡¯t know. Anything. I nned on letting him throw anything at me. But that first night after she died, I sat on the edge of his bed and pulled him into my arms with every intention of being there emotionally. I found it, however, impossible to say any of the things I¡¯d nned to say. A knot formed in my throat each time I attempted, and the idea of speaking Margot¡¯s name aloud¡ªto our only child¡ªI honestly thought it would kill me. As much as having her hurt me, losing her almost destroyed me. So Sutton went to therapy to talk, and after a few months, he seemed better. My eight-year-old got better, and I was getting worse, so I buried myself in women to ease the sting. And those talks I meant to have¨Cwhen I was stronger, that¡¯s what I always told myself¨Cthey simply never materialized. And when I was ready to have them, Sutton wanted nothing to do with me. I have major regrets now, but those regrets drove me here, to this barstool, having this evening, loaded with difort. Sutton shoves the pan of steaks aside, and braces his hands on the counter, eyes like his mother set on me, malice ring his nostrils. ¡°Parker bought the property, he was always going to buy the property, so why you needed toe here andy down marriage advice like father of the year¨C¡± ¡°Father of the year? A man mentions his only son¡¯s impending wedding and onement about marriage and suddenly I¡¯m asserting that I¡¯m father of the year?¡± I ask, pressing my hand to my chest, struggling to keep my tone even keel. Avery steps between us, standing at the corner of the bar. She extends a hand toward each of us, her fingertips grazing my palm. ¡°Let¡¯s just calm down,¡± she offers softly, and as much as I don¡¯t want to upset or fluster her, I know we aren¡¯t calming. We¡¯re just getting started. ¡°The most rewarding feeling in the entire world is giving the person you love everything they want,¡± I repeat my words from earlier, my gaze moving between my son and the woman he is marrying. ¡°I meant that.¡± Sutton snorts, letting me know he finds hypocrisy in my words. ¡°Sure.¡± I lick my lips. ¡°Sure, what?¡± ¡°Sure that you really believe that the best feeling in the world is giving the woman you love everything she wants. Sure that you believe you did that. Sure that you¡¯re believing that you are in a position to give rtionship advice. Sure to all of it, George.¡± George. I¡¯m usually referred to as ¡°my father¡± or ¡°Geo¡± but to be George¡­ It hurts. ¡°Say what you so very clearly need to say,¡± I calmly tell him. He pushes off the counter and brings his palms together, the sound of his hands rubbing the only noise in the kitchen. Avery stands with her hands still reaching for us, fingertips dusting my palm, her face scrunched in anxious difort. Still gorgeous, but now visibly distraught. I don¡¯t want to upset her, but I don¡¯t want whatever is happening between my son and I to be a secret, either. Families never get stronger with secrets. ¡°Do you really want to do this? Do you want to go here now after so carefully making sure to never go here for thest twenty-seven years?¡± he asks, a vein in his forehead pulsing. ¡°Go where?¡± I ask, ncing at Avery, whose eyes are indelibly pinned on Sutton. Another sadisticugh before those knowing hazel eyes find mine. My chest tightens, seeing the pain in his expression, thinking that I put that pain there, that I made him this buttoned up man that he is. ¡°Did you really think you were going to tell me that my mom passed away when I was eight and that I¡¯d never once in my life look her up? That I wouldn¡¯t research my mother and her death?¡± At some point, as the years drug on and Sutton got into junior high and started using theputer, I feared this. My brother Ford told me not to fear it, but to embrace it. Sit with Sutton and go through news articles together, point out what¡¯s true and what¡¯s not, and why the news printed what they did¨Cbecause there is a big reason why. He even suggested that I attend therapy with Sutton, and choose a time of the day to openly discuss Margot, like over dinner or in the morning with coffee. But I didn¡¯t take my brother¡¯s advice. I wanted to. I did. I simply couldn¡¯t. ¡°I¨C¡± I don¡¯t know what to say. I knew you would? I wondered if you did? I thought you¡¯de to me? Give me the benefit? I lick my lips and speak through my rapid pulse despite its efforts to clog my senses. ¡°I have no excuses. I should have talked to you about things all those years ago. But¡­ it was hard,¡± I admit. Even with the way I carefully worded that, it feels like I¡¯m shirking my responsibilities. And when I lift my eyes from the counter and find my son, I find he feels the same way. ¡°Right. Because a confused, heartbroken kid is supposed to ask his father why he treated his mother so shitty?¡± he asks, his voice no longer raised, his tone devoid of rage and anger. Treated his mother so shitty? Truth be told, a lot has happened in thest twenty-seven years and I¡¯ve suppressed, blocked and shoved down so many painful things in an effort to put one foot in front of the other, day after day. But the things they said about me when she died¡ªthe tabloids, the papers, the local news¡ªI remember. I didn¡¯t care then because it served a greater good, and the people who knew me¡ªmy brother Ford, his wife, my friends¡ªthey knew it wasn¡¯t true either. The problem is, I never considered that my son didn¡¯t know me, not the way other adults in my life did. I made passive assumptions, and now I see how misguided I was. ¡°What¡ªplease, exin to me who I was to your mother, in your eyes,¡± I urge, trying my hardest not to show him the hurt he¡¯s causing at the startling usation that I was a bad husband to Margot, that I treated my wife poorly. It¡¯s bitter on the tongue, his reality, and I can¡¯t stomach swallowing it, but I refuse to project my emotions¨Che¡¯s entitled to his. After all, it¡¯s my fault he has no reason to think differently. ¡°The newspaper articles all say the same thing, George.¡± ¡°Sutt,¡± Avery interjects, saying his name so softly I don¡¯t think he even hears. Hees around therge kitchen ind, the one that I helped him select when renovating this house a few years ago. We¡¯ve never been close, but we¡¯ve had moments of feeling like things weren¡¯t impossible. I will never lose hope. Sutton strokes a hand down his face, leaning over the bar to get as close to me as he can. He drops his voice, not in privacy but in exasperation, and I see now that my son hurts. ¡°There¡¯s grainy surveince footage out there, too, George. So it¡¯s not what I think I know, it¡¯s what the world knows about you, and the way you treated her.¡± My mind reels¨Csurveince footage? Grainy images of Margot and myself flood my mind, images I haven¡¯t revisited in so many years. Not enough years. I never want to see those old security camera images again. For the rest of my life. I swallow against the sudden rock of emotion holding my throat tight, making my lungs seize. ¡°And how did I treat her?¡± I ask quietly, calmly. Averyes around the bar, behind me, and stands between myself and my son, again, mediating. ¡°Baby,¡± she says softly, pressing her fingers into his stomach, encouraging space between us. ¡°You had an affair. Probably many, if I know you. But you had an affair and my mother confronted the husband of the woman you were sleeping with. Heshed out, and he wanted to hurt you for sleeping with his wife, and he killed her.¡± He shrugs as if this is fact, with no possible room to negotiate. ¡°I saw the footage. I read the articles. Don¡¯t tell me it isn¡¯t true.¡± The way thest wordes out of him rattled and broken sends a knife through my heart. I look at Avery, whose eyes are damp and wide, focused on me. She¡¯s reframing me with everything she¡¯s just heard, looking at me now through a different lens, a new lens where I am not quite the man she reckoned I was for thest year. Hell, maybe not. Maybe Sutt¡¯s already filled her head with his truth. I don¡¯t know. And the reason I don¡¯t know is because I¡¯m a shitty fucking father. Clearly. I get to my feet and step back, giving Avery and Sutton space. If I know you, he said, and he doesn¡¯t, but that¡¯s my fault, my choice¡ªthat¡¯s on me. ¡°Sutton, I?¡ª¡± He raises a palm, silently halting my efforts to exin myself, to exin to him everything that he doesn¡¯t know. And there¡¯s a lot. He actually knows nothing, nothing real at least. ¡°We don¡¯t need to suddenly sort things out. We are fine as is, okay? Just¡ªstop trying to y the father card. You can sell property without that angle. We¡¯ve done fine until now.¡± There¡¯s so much I want to say, but when I look at Avery, I know that now isn¡¯t the time. They¡¯re exhausted. She¡¯s worked all day, they¡¯ve been nning a wedding on top of moving her in and Sutton¡¯s already in a mood¨Cnothing positive cane from me staying. ¡°Sutton, I want you to know that I¡¯m deeply regretful of how I handled things after your mother passed. I had every intention of exining things to you once you were old enough but¡­ I kept waiting for it to hurt less. I kept thinking, as soon as it doesn¡¯t feel like I¡¯m dying to even speak her name, that¡¯s when I¡¯ll talk to him, that¡¯s when I¡¯ll tell him everything, exin the newspapers, everything. But that time didn¡¯te, not as quickly as I thought it might. And years passed and¡­ I just¡­¡± ¡°You allowed a therapist to get me through the loss of my mother, gave me open inte ess to discover the truth, and then you showered me with everything I could possibly want to make sure the world viewed you as the best father ever?¡± The words rush out fast, stacked on top of one another, and before I know it, Avery yelps, and Sutton has my dress shirt in his fists, his whiskey breath hot against my face. ¡°What do you fucking want from me, George?¡± he shouts, shaking me as his bottom lip trembles. ¡°Stop!¡± Avery screams, her voice shaky with fear, tears gliding down hot pink cheeks. ¡°Sutton, stop it!¡± She cries as I stare into my son¡¯s eyes. I see the moment he really hears her, and he releases me, stepping back, swiping his palm over the lower half of his face. ¡°Go. You need to go.¡± I look at Avery. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sweetheart.¡± She doesn¡¯t say anything, but stands there, arms wrapped around herself, herrge diamond glittering beneath the bar lights. I leave, arriving at home with no memory of the drive. All I had on my mind was my son, and how to make things right after so many years of doing it wrong. Father Knows Best: Chapter 7 The Apology n She¡¯s asked me where it came from and the thing I hate most about my answer of ¡°I don¡¯t know¡± is that it¡¯s the truth. I really have no clue where it came from yesterday. Maybe it was him trying to give marriage advice when he has not been in a serious rtionship since my mother. Maybe it was him trying to father in front of someone. Maybe it¡¯s the stress of the wedding. The thing is, after Avery asked me why I did itshed out on my father and almost punched him in the face¡ªI really gave thought to her question. I haven¡¯t had an answer all morning. Not when I shaved, not when I read the paper, not when I made espresso, not when I packed Avery¡¯s favorite sd for her lunch, not when I got dressed and knotted my favorite silk tie. Now, sitting at the table sipping our second espresso as we wait for our bowls of oatmeal to cool, I watch Avery read the paper, sifting her fingers through her soft golden hair mindlessly as she does, and I know. ¡°Marrying you,¡± I say out of nowhere, causing her to look up, letting the paper fall to the table. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Marrying you has me thinking of the future, of all the things I want for us in our life together. And thinking of our future made me think about my parents.¡± I trace the rim of my espresso with a fingertip, staring into the murky surface as I collect my thoughts. ¡°At some point, I put it all behind me and chose to not actively judge my father for it. And for a long time I was at least able to hide my feelings, and I even had a handful of years where I gaslit myself into thinking I didn¡¯t have all the pieces of the puzzle, you know? But now, as I think about spending my life with you, I¡¯ve been thinking about them. The way he treated her.¡± She nods, outstretching her hand, finding mine. She weaves our fingers together, squeezing. I¡¯ve not told Avery much about my parents, and since she met my father the same day she met me, she knows him. She sees the women he brings to events, the ones who show up hopeful for a date, the perfume that trails him when hees back to the office after a long lunch. I¡¯ve never had to tell her that he¡¯s a womanizer because she has eyes. She¡¯s intelligent. Finally, I look up into the eyes of the woman I fell for the same day I met her. They say love at first sight is bullshit, but it¡¯s not. The day Iid eyes on Avery Bet, I knew I wanted to be a husband and a father. I saw it all right there in the span of ten seconds of intimate eye contact that she was the one. And I¡¯ve never doubted myself, not once. Still, sharing this shit feels foreign¨Cand it is, since I¡¯ve never done it. ¡°I don¡¯t remember that much. My therapist warned me as I got older that a lot of the specifics about our life around the time my mom passed would grow fuzzy. Repressing trauma as a protective mechanism.¡± I sip my espresso and ignore the cramp of emotion that hits when Avery ces her hand on my thigh, kneadingfortingly. ¡°But when I was in junior high, a kid made a joke once. And honestly I don¡¯t even remember what he said but it was about my mother, so when I got home, I Googled her. Well, I Googled George and Margot Mercer.¡± She continues to soothe me, her small hand tracing wee patterns onto my thigh as she props her chin on her fist, blinking up at me. ¡°What did you find?¡± I shake my head. ¡°Articles. Tons of tabloid and newspaper articles all telling me that my father had an affair that led to my mother being killed in the heat of the moment. I remember seeing the word affair so many times that it lost meaning.¡± ¡°Sutt,¡± Avery breathes, my nickname soft and effusive on her lips. ¡°He cheated on her, Avery. He cheated on her and created a situation where he wasn¡¯t just disloyal and disrespectful but he gambled her safety. And she lost. And so did I.¡± Over the years, Uncle Ford has urged me to talk to my father, makingments alluding to there being another side of the story that I haven¡¯t considered. I love my Uncle Ford but I also know that he and my father are close. What he says is always tinged with consideration of their rtionship. ¡°Has he told you that he cheated?¡± Avery asks quietly, her words made light and gentle so as to not upset me. I reach down, collecting her hand from my thigh, and interlock our fingers. ¡°We don¡¯t need to talk about this anymore. I just wanted you to know that I thought about what you asked me¡ªand that¡¯s where all this is surfacing from. The wedding. Marrying you. But I¡¯m promising you now to stay focused on that and move forward. I¡¯m sorry aboutst night.¡± Latest content published on findnovel She shakes her head, light brows pulling together, a cute wrinkle in her nose. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to shove it all back down, Sutton. In fact, I think it¡¯s good it¡¯s alling to the surface now.¡± She wraps her arms around one of mine, and slides off her barstool to press her lips to my cheek. ¡°I want you and your dad to work it out. But no more violence, okay? Last night scared me.¡± That was so out of left field for me. I haven¡¯t been physically violent since I punched my cousin Cade in the stomach when I was nine. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, and I will apologize to my father today.¡± Avery smiles softly, cing a hand on my chest. She tips her head against my shoulder, and walks her hand down my belly, resting her fingers on my belt. Her lipse to the soft spot beneath my ear, and she kisses me, humming gently against my heated flesh. ¡°We can start today off a bit happier,¡± she whispers, slipping the tips of her fingers beneath my pants. My muscles soften at her touch, but with the sunlight pouring through the windows and a full day of work waiting for us, my mind can¡¯t downshift into something primal, not right now. I catch her wrist and pull her onto myp, pushing back from the counter top to allow a little more room for her tiny frame. Her bottom lip juts out as I pinch her chin and bring our mouths together in a quick kiss. ¡°I¡¯m going to get the rest of the paperwork for the Odd Fellows building, then we should head in.¡± Avery slides off myp, swiping at her lips, righting her shirt. ¡°Sounds good.¡± I take her hand, stopping before she turns away. ¡°I¡¯m sorry aboutst night.¡± She smiles, but it doesn¡¯t reach her eyes. She strokes her thumb over my hand. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you ever talk to me about your mom?¡± She looks down at her feet, tucked into ck high heels. She¡¯s working in the office today, and not staging, and these are my favorite days. When we¡¯re at Mercer Properties together, though divided by a wall, still together. I shake my head. ¡°It¡¯s been so long¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± I scratch the back of my neck, suddenly hot. ¡°When you want to talk¨Cif you ever do¨Cyou know I¡¯m here,¡± she says, smiling gently before lifting her bag from the counter. ¡°Ready?¡± I get to my feet, and nod. ¡°Ready.¡± Father Knows Best: Chapter 8 The Secret Sipping my coffee, I lean forward in my chair, studying theyout onest time. Once I order the pieces for this staging, changing anything bes exponentially more difficult, that¡¯s why I like to visualize it all onest time. Pressing the button on my desk phone, I hit the auto-dial for Brandon and wait until he picks up. ¡°Boss?¡± he answers. He always calls me that, though I don¡¯t think of myself as anyone¡¯s boss. I think of myself as the visionary and nner, and Brandon as the executioner of said ideas. But he uses the term as a way of reminding me that he¡¯s grateful for this job, and I always appreciate gratitude. ¡°I¡¯m doing a final visual on the Pacific Heights property before I put the pull order in,¡± I tell him, and since he¡¯s the guy who pulls the pieces I need from our warehouses, I¡¯m pretty certain he¡¯d like me to be sure, too. ¡°Can you bring the photos into my office one more time?¡± His roughughter fills the line. ¡°You really are an old soul, you know?¡± I smirk as I trace the blue line from the foyer to the staircase, making a mental note to make sure I have a runner for that section of flooring. The marble is slippery, and I¡¯m pretty sure Roberta¡¯s first show for the property is a wealthy man in histe sixties. We do not want slippery floors. Slippery floors andte sixties do not mix¡ªjust ask my grandmother. ¡°I can¡¯t visualize alongside digital photos. You know that. I need my physicals to¨C¡± ¡°Toy out the design, I know,¡± Brandonughs, finishing my sentence. ¡°Sure thing, Boss. I¡¯m in the warehouse unloading that order of mirrors but I¡¯ll bring them up in the next few, okay?¡± I find a spot on the design where I¡¯ve ced amp, but there is no outlet, so I circle it. ¡°Perfect. Thanks, Brandon.¡± Ending the call, I finish my coffee and am about to touch up my lipstick before seeing Sutton in his office when Geo stops in, knocking gently twice on my already open office door. My pulse skips a bit, and that¡¯s not unusual. At first, when Sutton and I got together, my reaction to Geo freaked me out. I felt traitorous to Sutton. How could my pulse shudder that way for another man? But then, after a weird week of introspection, I decided that it would be odd not to be affected by George Mercer. I mean, he¡¯s absolutely gorgeous. Still, I¡¯m dangerously in love with Sutton. When I think of him letting me suck his cock and holding my head down as hees down my throat? I almoste just at the thought. If he did it? I¡¯d be toast. I¡¯m obsessed with Sutton. There is no questioning that. But I can¡¯t turn off the way my body reacts to an incredibly handsome and sessful man. Even if that man is my soon to be father-inw. I¡¯ve rationalized the guilt away because I¡¯ve seen first-hand every single woman sumb to his charm. So why should I hold myself to the unreasonable standard of beating the charm of the great-in-bed (watercooler chat), handsome as hell, wealthy as sin, charming and charismatic George Mercer? I can¡¯t, I shouldn¡¯t and I won¡¯t. But I also won¡¯t pander to them, because I am in love with Sutton, who is also handsome and charming. I¡¯m just saying, I no longer feel guilty over enjoying him privately, in my thoughts, when he happens to be in my presence. Preferably not when my fianc¨¦ is about to punch his lights out. Or whatever that was going to be. ¡°Avery,¡± Geo says, nodding his head in greeting, giving me half of one of his charming smiles. I smile back, both of us pretending thatst night never happened, and that everything is business as usual. ¡°Hey Geo, what¡¯s going on? What can I do for you?¡± I ask. He takes a step into my office, but his hand is still on the door handle. ¡°I have a new property in a hot location, probably won¡¯t be listed long. I have a few clients who will most likely make offers.¡± I nod. ¡°That¡¯s great.¡± Releasing his grip on the door, he steps inside further, and shoves his hands in his pockets¨Csomething I¡¯ve noticed he does when he¡¯s unsure of himself. I know many people would not believe that George Mercer is ever unsure of himself, but I see it when he is. I know it because Sutton is my fianc¨¦, and he has, despite their rift, the same tells. ¡°Well, it needs to be staged, and I¡¯m hoping to have the entire ce done by the end of week.¡± His lips form a t line as we blink at one another. ¡°Do you hate me?¡± I shake my head. ¡°I don¡¯t hate you but we¡¯re finishing the Pacific Heights property this week. Brandon¡¯s bringing the photos up, and I¡¯m putting the pull order in today.¡± I nce at my watch and see it¡¯s already half past two. ¡°He¡¯s gonna be another half an hour I think, so if you have time now, we can get started?¡± Geo smiles, and though he¡¯s smiled at me a million times in thest year, this one makes my insides warm. ¡°Thank you for making time for me.¡± I smile, ignoring the foreign heat wing at my insides at the soft way he expresses gratitude. ¡°Let me just grab myptop and we can go over the property images, and I can work something up quickly based on what I have in the warehouse.¡± He nods. ¡°That sounds great.¡± Geo moves to the door and holds it open, and I snatch myptop from my desk and brush past him, making sure to ignore the tonka andvender that radiates off of him as I pass. I attempt to trail behind him to his office but he waits, instead walking down the hallway side by side. ¡°That¡¯s not how it was with Margot,¡± he says softly, catching my eyes and holding them so intensely that my lungs copse, and I heave out a breath, quietly, my chest rattling. ¡°No?¡± I ask quietly, unsure of what I can ask, what is kind to him and not a betrayal to Sutton. I don¡¯t know where to draw the line of normal interest and care or something greater. I don¡¯t think I can go too deep into something greater. It¡¯s a scary thought, for so many reasons. He shakes his head as we continue to walk, though our pace is unhurried. ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell him otherwise?¡± I ask after too many pinching, narrow moments of silence wherein I feel as if the world only consists of me and George Mercer. ¡°Why don¡¯t you set him straight?¡± I choke out, feeling the need to pad the space between us with words, words I mostly mean, regardless of how detached I feel from them right now. Wee to a natural stop, both conversationally and physically. He nods up at his office door, then pushes past me only to open it, and wait for me to enter. I nearly pass out as I walk inside, holding my breath, truly fearful to get an intense lungful of him. ¡°Thank you,¡± I murmur as I duck in and make myselffortable at the table across from his desk¨Cthe ce I usually sit when I work with Geo or he and his team. ¡°I just e-mailed you the first round of things you¡¯ll need,¡± he says as he moves past me, settling into his desk, the red wing-back chair a beautiful, sunsetting contrast to his shadowed face and dark, grey eyes. ¡°Get the light?¡± I get up and flick the light on, and the intense shadows around his face disappear, and I don¡¯t know what was worse (in a good way) ¡ªthe dark, broody and mysterious shadowy version of Geo or the crystal clear in every beautiful detail version of him? I have noints about either option. ¡°Settle,¡± he urges me back to my seat after I¡¯m caught staring at him for a moment. I sit back down and open myptop, and begin pulling up my email. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that¡¯s been his perception of me all these years,¡± he breathes out, distress lining every crease and dip in his voice. He shakes his head, running an equally veined hand over his chest as his eyes gravitate to mine. ¡°How in the world could he think any differently if you didn¡¯t tell him anything?¡± I retort in defense of the man not here, the man I love with my whole heart, who has also effectively helped me create who I am as a person today. He is my soulmate. Of that I have zero doubt. Geo shakes his head, looking listless and dazed for a moment, his eyes floating over his desk before locking on mine. ¡°She was the love of my life. I only had eyes for her. She was my everything.¡± He smiles, and I nearly gasp from the pain that explodes behind my ribs at the sight of his frail, broken attempt at pretending it doesn¡¯t still hurt. ¡°But Margot¡­ she loved attention and feeling¡­ a certain way,¡± he says, shrugging. ¡°Desired. I guess that would be the best term for it. She always needed to feel desired and all her attempts to curb that need were endless¡­ I was never enough. I never quite could make her feel desired enough.¡± My heartes to a shuddering, screeching halt. ¡°Desired,¡± I repeat, sinceing to terms with this new information. I never imagined Geo was a cheater, but after Sutton exploded yesterday, I¡¯ve reconsidered and while I don¡¯t believe it, it is within reason and believable. I can¡¯t deny someone else reasonably believing he could cheat. He¡¯s good looking, flirtatious, effervescent¡ªperhaps a stereotype but when reframed through the lens of a stranger¡¯s eye, Geo could be viewed as a cheater. Still, I¡¯ve never felt that in my gut. He nods. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I mean, of course all these yearster I certainly have suspicions. Childhood trauma, a very challenging rtionship with her own father¡ªI think Margot was very lost. I just didn¡¯t know how to help her then.¡± I don¡¯t know what to say, so I sit there, bncing myptop on my thighs, fingers hovering over the keys, screen waiting. ¡°If I wasn¡¯t there when she needed attention, she simply sought it elsewhere. And I know that I¡¯m going to sound whipped and pathetic but¡­ she really didn¡¯t mean to hurt me. It was like, she just¡­ couldn¡¯t handle being alone, couldn¡¯t handle being without physicalpany or touch.¡± Emotion lumps up my throat, making me swallow ufortably. I wait a moment for my eyes to stop burning, and say, ¡°So why then did the papers say it was the other way around? Sutton said the articles he found pinned you as the phndering womanizer.¡± I study Geo¡¯s face as I hurl those usations at him. He doesn¡¯t even flinch. ¡°I became that, I felt that I had to be that in order for everyone to forget what happened.¡± He sighs. ¡°She loved me very much, and she was my everything. And Sutton, my god,¡± he breathes, the ends of his eyes lifting as he smiles, likely reying a beautiful memory from the past. ¡°She adored him. He was her whole world, and that was the truth of it.¡± My mind is stuck on his words earlier, the words that imply he sacrificed himself for the sake of Margot¡¯s memory. ¡°I still don¡¯t understand,¡± I start, but reroute my statement to a question, fearful that this revealing conversation will end if I let it. ¡°What happened?¡± I don¡¯t specify if I¡¯m asking what happened to Margot that night or what happened between the two of them over time¡­ I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m asking, but Geo seems to understand the broadness of my curiosity. ¡°She had many affairs during the course of our rtionship. They were not emotional in nature but still, they were devastating.¡± He smooths his fingers down the silk tie he¡¯s wearing today, a ssic Robert Talbot, the kind Geo prefers. ¡°I couldn¡¯t leave her. I loved her too much. Ford thought I should; he thought that if I left her, maybe she¡¯d change but I knew she couldn¡¯t. And I¡¯d rather live with her, pleasure infused with exquisite pain, than alone, nothing but pain without her.¡± What a horrible situation to be in, and not just to be in but to raise a child in. ¡°Did Sutton ever know?¡± I ask, but as soon as I do, I answer the question myself. ¡°No, of course not.¡± Geo nods. ¡°I had a friend at the Chronicle back then. I paid him to write the story from a different angle. The police had an open and shut case with a man who was not denying his guilty charge so they had no problem with me shaping the public narrative. Of course, money urged all of these things along, as it always does.¡± I think about Geo losing the love of his life and then taking on the public role of cheating asshole who became the demise of his innocent and adoring wife. I wasn¡¯t around, and I¡¯ve never asked, but I¡¯m sure that he took media scrutiny for a long time until the next big story in the Financial District broke. Blinking, Geo¡¯s form changes behind my eyes in an instant. The constantpany he keeps, his charming smile, the way he is always there for Sutton from a distance¡ªnow all I see is a very broken man trying to climb his way out of a life he never signed up for. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ so sorry,¡± I breathe, my words shaky and quiet. Everything he¡¯s told me today is shocking, and more than that, it will utterly change Sutton. My beautiful, hard working man has lived most of his life believing that his father¡ªthe great businessman adored by all¡ªis secretly a selfish monster who caused, indirectly, his mother¡¯s death. Knowing the truth means setting Sutton free from the prison of anger and resentment he¡¯s built up around him where Geo is concerned. Geo opens his desk drawer, fishing around for a moment before sliding me a photo over the desk. It¡¯s a Kodak photo, it says as much on the back, and it¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve seen a photograph printed from film that I hold it gently, careful not to smudge it with my thumbs. In orange digital numbers, 7 4 98 are tucked into the corner. ¡°That was the night it happened. She¡¯d gone out to a bar to celebrate the 4th after fireworks with Sutton at the water. I didn¡¯t want to go downtown, or get drinks, but there was no convincing her otherwise. So I initially stayed with Sutton and she went out.¡± The photo is of Margot, her dark hair piled high on her head, shiny, effortless bangs styled perfectly for the beach. Her arms are around a very young Sutton, who is beaming, holding a sand bucket in his hands. Geo is behind them, a hand on Sutton¡¯s shoulder and one on Margot¡¯s¨Che isn¡¯t smiling, but his eyes are full of pride. Sutt¡¯s feet are hidden by sand, and Geo is shirtless, Margot in nothing but a ck bikini. Her smile makes me smile. ¡°She looks happy.¡± ¡°She was happy. She was just¡­ lost,¡± Geo says, staring at the photo in my hands across the space. ¡°She¡¯d been seeing Barry for a while. I knew about it. Hell, I knew Barry. I¡¯d met him ironically in Los Angeles, and he and his wife Josie moved to the bay around the time Margot met him.¡± I don¡¯t know what¡¯s appropriate to ask, but I figure Geo will tell me if I reach or cross a line. ¡°How did she meet him?¡± ¡°At a department store. She was buying her favorite perfume and he was buying it, too.¡± He shrugs, smiling, wisdom lining the corners of his eyes. ¡°Like I said, I knew it was never deep. She never connected emotionally to them.¡± ¡°What happened that night?¡± I ask, recalling what Sutton said. That Geo had slept with a married woman and, in a fit of rage, her husband had killed Margot in an act of anger and hurt driven vengeance. As I stare down at the photo in my hands, envisioning Margot staring down the barrel of a gun, my heart shatters for everyone involved. So tragic. ¡°If what Sutton read isn¡¯t true, what happened?¡± Geo doesn¡¯t tell me I¡¯ve pushed too much or gone too far, and as I study his features, the worry and regret, I wonder if he¡¯s sharing with me now because he needs to unload the burden of truth or if he¡¯s hoping that I can mend the damage between he and Sutton, and that I can better deliver the truth to Sutton. I don¡¯t know. But I stay rooted to that seat, ignoring myptop, ignoring the tiny window of time I even have right now, ignoring the pull order I need to put through to Brandon¡ªignoring everything but Geo Mercer and his broken heart. It is imperative that I do. ¡°I told her to be home before sunrise, that I didn¡¯t want to lie to Sutton about why she wasn¡¯t home for breakfast again. And when one in the morning rolled around I just¡­ I got so goddamn angry, you know? So I called the nanny I didn¡¯t want to call and I stormed down there.¡± He reaches out, taking the picture back from me as if having Margot¡¯s image out while he recounts this portion of the story is too painful. Geo ces the photo in the drawer, and closes it, resting his hands on his desk. ¡°I tried to convince her toe home with me, but she and Barry were several drinks in. He wasmitted. He wanted what he came for, and he was not pleased with my cameo that night.¡± ¡°Where was his wife? What did you say her name was?¡± ¡°Josie. His wife knew, like me, that her husband had a wandering eye and sticky palms.¡± He strokes his hand over his forehead, the veins over his metacarpals bulging as he does. ¡°That night, like me, she was home. With their kids.¡± I nod my head, unsure how to react to this awful story and the way it defined both his and Sutton¡¯s lives forever. ¡°She didn¡¯t want to leave with you?¡± He shakes his head. ¡°No. And Barry didn¡¯t want her to go either. And the longer I tried to convince her, the moremotion it made, which led to me getting kicked out.¡± I straighten against the seat, grabbing myptop before it slides off my legs and crashes onto the floor. ¡°You got kicked out?¡± I balk, shocked by this news. He shrugs. ¡°They were there together first. To the bartender, I looked like the troublemaker.¡± Another shrug. ¡°I¡¯ve never faulted that man for what he did. He did his best not knowing the unbelievably tangled web going on behind the scenes.¡± A young version of Geo, distraught and stressed, appears in my mind, motionless, waiting for direction. ¡°What did you do next?¡± He blinks at me a moment, and I¡¯m sure he¡¯s reying that night in his mind. Maybe even for the first time in a long time. I wish I could hug him, but I know that¡¯s not appropriate. Not at work. ¡°I waited out front and when the staff came out at close, I asked where they were. The man who kicked me out said Barry and Margot had slipped out the back door shortly after I was removed.¡± His eyes grow ssy, and my stomach knots itself over and over as I wait for the rest of the tragic story. ¡°Police believed that Margot may have wanted to go home, even though she refused to leave when I was there. She asked the bartender to call her a cab but Barry had convinced her to let him drive her, and they slipped out the back before the cab came.¡± Immediately my mind goes to a car ident, fueled by alcohol and rising emotions, but Sutton¡¯s words drift back. She was shot. There was no drunk car ride. ¡°Why did he shoot her?¡± Readplete version only at F¦ÉndNovel He sighs. ¡°It was casual to Margot. But Barry loved her. And he wanted her to leave me. And she wouldn¡¯t.¡± Geo clears his throat, and begins shuffling papers on his desk until he finds what he¡¯s looking for. He passes me the packet of documents rted to the property that brought me into his office in the first ce. ¡°He killed her because she refused to leave me. And then he confessed, and was arrested.¡± I shake my head. ¡°If he confessed, if he admitted to having an affair with Margot and killing her, why did you change the narrative at all? Why didn¡¯t you let the news run the real story?¡± He reaches over the desk, his sleeve cuff raising as he points at the address on the packet. ¡°Our first listing in this neighborhood.¡± Shifting back into the story, he adds, ¡°I couldn¡¯t do that to¡­ her¡­ or Sutton. I controlled the media around him at the time, so he wouldn¡¯t see anything about it. I always figured, by the time he could ess that stuff, he¡¯d be old enough to hear the truth, or maybe I thought he¡¯d be at the age where he¡¯d know his father well enough to know that was just a story for the papers.¡± I lick my lips. ¡°That doesn¡¯t really answer the question.¡± Geo¡¯s soulful eyes turn stormy as he drops his volume, surprising me by what he says next. ¡°You know, you¡¯re the first person I¡¯ve told this to. My brother knows, but you¡¯re really the first.¡± My throat goes dry. ¡°I wish you¡¯d share this with Sutton. It would change everything.¡± He sits up straight, and the sunlight illuminates him from behind, making Geo look almost godlike as he barters¨C ¡°Would it, though?¡± I nod fervently. ¡°Of course it would, Geo. The truth is the exact opposite of what Sutton believes. It changes his entire narrative about you.¡± I finally ept that we are going to transition away from this topic, and open myptop, keying in my password to the Mercer Properties portal. ¡°And you still haven¡¯t told me why. Why you went above and beyond to make sure everyone thought that you were the one stepping out, and that Margot was an innocent victim of your poor choices, not her own. Why, Geo? You had to know that one day, Sutton would read that stuff. That he¡¯d form an opinion. And you did nothing to persuade him otherwise. Why?¡± ¡°I loved her too much to let her bad choices define her memory.¡± His eyes grow misty again, and his voice drops an octave, to something smoky and pained, quiet and tender. ¡°And I never thought that my own son would assume me to be the viin in his story.¡± I¡¯m torn between feeling bad for Geo and feeling angry with him. Had he simplymunicated with Sutton when he was growing up, had he exined things to him¡ªSutton would not be so hardened to Geo. But likewise, I understand Geo¡¯s surprise that Sutton equally did not ask. He was the child, he should not have had to ask, but now? They¡¯ve worked side by side for years, in cold climates¡ªwhy didn¡¯t Sutton ever ask for rification? Both of them are at fault in their own ways. I see that, but it¡¯s on Geo to clear the air. ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell him all this now?¡± I ask. ¡°I think Sutton canpartmentalize. He can ept that he loved his mother very much, but that she was troubled.¡± Geo doesn¡¯t say another word about it, but instead says, ¡°We have four days for this property. Take a look at everything, and let me know. Brandon has ess to the warehouse in Galt, right? If he needs to pull pieces from there to get this done, I¡¯m okay with that.¡± I blink at Geo, my chest going concave at how easily he volleys the most serious and impactful story in his life to work, staging and selling multi-million dor properties. I nod. ¡°Okay.¡± We sit together in his office as I go through the floor n, appraisal report, consent and release forms for photos and everything else. An hourter, things are figured out, Geo has told me that I have proverbially saved his day, and on my way out of his office, heading back to the photos Brandon brought out for me, Geo stops me. ¡°I won¡¯t ask you to keep secrets from my son because he is your other half, and I respect that but?¡ª¡± ¡°You have to tell him,¡± I say definitively, epting zero excuses. ¡°Tonight. Come over. I¡¯ll make dinner and you two are going to iron this out.¡± I step into his space, drawing close. ¡°I¡¯m bringing you Mercer men together. No more of this.¡± He doesn¡¯t smile, but the corner of his lips lift the tiniest amount. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tonight.¡± Father Knows Best: Chapter 9 The Truth ¡°Everything. I told her everything,¡± I tell Ford, pacing behind my desk, the blinds to the internal office pulled tightly shut. ¡°I didn¡¯t n on it but I saw her and I just¡ªI don¡¯t know. She wants me toe clean to Sutton tonight. Tell him everything.¡± Ford sighs. ¡°You¡¯ve been holding onto it for almost thirty years. You¡¯ve been Sutton¡¯s boogie man for half your life, brother. She¡¯s not wrong. You need to tell him.¡± There¡¯s a pause as I brace one hand against the ss windowprising the entire back wall of my office. I stare down into the gridlock traffic below, at the tiny people ducking in between cars, riding bicycles, wearing backpacks, holding big coffees. ¡°Why haven¡¯t you, anyway? He¡¯s clearly read about things online.¡± ¡°Has he ever asked you about it?¡± I question, though I know the answer. If my son had approached my younger brother at all about what happened all those years ago, Ford would have told me. He¡¯s my best friend. ¡°No, though he did call me for guidance on his wedding vows the other day,¡± Ford tells me. My chest detes, though it shouldn¡¯t. I shouldn¡¯t be surprised. Sutton has always leaned on my brother as a father figure, and all these years I¡¯ve let him because I thought it was best for Sutton. I¡¯ve always wanted a rtionship with my son, but making him aware of the truth never became so ringly important until Avery. He¡¯s going to have his own family one day very soon. It¡¯s time he knows the truth. Avery is right. ¡°I told him to ask you,¡± Ford continues in absence of my response. ¡°I¡¯m going to their house tonight. I¡¯m going to tell him everything.¡± My voice breaks and I clear my throat. ¡°I don¡¯t want my grandchildren to think I¡¯m a monster.¡± Ford¡¯s voice softens. ¡°You don¡¯t want your son to think you are either, Geo. I know why you let him go along with it all these years, but now is the time. You don¡¯t deserve this, you never did. Enough is enough.¡± This is what a pep talk from Ford looks like. And it¡¯s exactly what I need. I bob my head along with his words, steadfast and true, resonating hard. ¡°Margot was a wonderful mom, but she was a confused, lost soul. You did everything you could to keep her, but some souls, they just, they can¡¯t be kept. They can¡¯t be tethered to this Earth. And it was awful what happened. I hold the utmost respect for you for loving Margot so much that you refused to stain her memory, for the sake of your son and his undying love for her. But he¡¯s thirty-five years old, Geo. He¡¯s no longer a heartbroken child. He can handle the truth about her. It¡¯s time, for your sake.¡± I let out a hefty sigh as I watch a woman chase a singr piece of garbage down the sidewalk, all the while keeping her cell phone rooted to her ear. ¡°Thanks, brother. Enough with me. How¡¯s it going over there? How¡¯s the new location doing?¡± Fordughs, but not a humorous one. ¡°It¡¯s one thing after the next. Every time I open a new bar, I tell myself it¡¯s thest new bar.¡± He sighs. ¡°But we¡¯ll get through it.¡± ¡°And how is Cade? I didn¡¯t get to chat with him much at the engagement party the other night.¡± My niece Kat works with me, so I may be more up-to-date on her life out of sheer proximity. My nephew, Ford¡¯s son, the college professor, on the other hand, I hardly see. ¡°I just got off the phone with him. He¡¯s got a hair across his ass about transitioning one of his sses to an online lecture format.¡± He pauses a moment, then asks, ¡°How do two of the most easy going men in all of San Francisco have two of the most uptight sons?¡± At that, I chuckle. ¡°Kat¡¯s just like you though.¡± ¡°That¡¯s true. She is.¡± He clears his throat. ¡°Actually, you may know this, I¡¯m not sure, but Kat asked me to dinner tonight. She¡¯s bringing her new girlfriend.¡± My brows rise. ¡°I did not know she was seeing someone, but she¡¯s been out of the office making so many deals recently, I haven¡¯t seen much of her.¡± ¡°Same,¡± my brother confirms. ¡°But tonight I¡¯m going to meet the new girl. Apparently, it¡¯s already quite serious.¡± ¡°Good luck,¡± I tell him, knowing how critical he is of everyone that dates his daughter. He¡¯d be critical of Cade¡¯s dates too, if he ever dated. ¡°Go easy on her.¡± ¡°Good luck to you too and hey¡ªthank Avery for me. Because I¡¯ve been trying to get you to tell Sutton for years.¡± We end the call, and I stand behind my desk, staring into downtown in a nervous haze for another twenty minutes before packing up my things and leaving for the day. I haven¡¯t seen Sutton all day, and I haven¡¯t seen Avery since she left my office hours ago. She sent me a text message¨Cthe first one she¡¯s ever sent me, despite the fact I¡¯ve been programmed into her phone since our first staff meeting. This text, however, does note from Mercer¡¯s stager. This textes from my future daughter-inw. Eight o¡¯clock tonight. Yes, Sutton knows you¡¯reing. I stare at my phone as I wait at a traffic light. Sutton knows you¡¯reing. It would be foolish to expect a ¡°Sutton is looking forward to it!¡± text because he¡¯s not. I know he¡¯s not. He may even be dreading my visit. The light turns green and I elerate, my mind veering to a new set of questions I hadn¡¯t considered just yet. Does Sutton know why I¡¯ming over? Avery is so sweet and genuine, I cannot possibly see her keeping our talk from him. Around me, Avery has always been the kind of person who does the right thing even when no one is looking, who overtips waitstaff, who picks up another person¡¯s garbage just because she doesn¡¯t want the Earth to suffer, the kind of woman who brought two cakes to my office partyst year because she didn¡¯t know which vor I like and didn¡¯t want to disappoint me. A person like that does not withhold vital information, but then again, she¡¯s so thoughtful and sensitive, too¡ªI could easily see her exining to Sutton that we talked, but having the foresight and generosity to allow me to exin things to him. All of this thought is just something my brain is doing to keep me busy. If I was left with my most primal thoughts¨CI¡¯d be hitting the road for the hills, going far away from even the mention of having this talk with my son. Ford thinks I¡¯ve done Sutton a disservice by letting him hate me. But Ford doesn¡¯t remember all the quiet moments of perfection that Sutton and I shared with Margot. The way he stared up at her in the orange glow from his night light as she sang him ¡°Twinkle Twinkle Little Star¡± before bed. The uproariousughter that came from the depths of his belly when she chased him, her hands covered in barbecue sauce after a cookout on thewn. My brother didn¡¯t know the intimate time the three of us shared, and how perfect our family was in the moments where Margot was content. Sutton and I may never discuss our past. We may never bring up Margot, and the memories we made before we lost her. But I know he remembers. And tonight, by making him see me in a new light, I¡¯m taking those memories from him. And that single take, the rug pull, that shift in reality is why I¡¯ve always been hesitant. Fear and inability tomunicate my deepest, darkest thoughts, yes, but also, taking the onlyfort left from his childhood memories, too. I don¡¯t want to do it. I¡¯m here, though, and Margot is not. And Sutton is going to get married. To Avery. The sweetest woman he could have possibly met. She¡¯s perfect for him in all ways, and many of her good qualities remind me of things I liked about Margot, too. The way she is kind to everyone. Her generosity and eptance, and I can¡¯t ignore her work ethic. Margot was the same, determined and hard-working. All of that is to say that I¡¯m the person their children will know. I¡¯m the man who will be Papa, who will show up at recitals and t-ball games, who will cheer them on when they¡¯re down, who will be their ear when Mom and Dad are being difficult. I¡¯m what his future children have, and because of that, they need to know who I am. That means Sutton needs to know who I am. After tonight, he will.
Pushups. A hot shower. Sweats. A ss of whiskey. I do everything I can to rx and prepare myself for what I think is going to be an argumentative and tumultuous evening. Sutton¡¯s heart has been hardened to me for so long, I¡¯m not even sure if he¡¯ll believe the truth anymore. Official source is f?ndnovel Before I leave, I grab the USB drive from the top drawer in my study, pocket it, and head out. Sutton purchased a home a few years ago¡ªarge estate in Pacific Heights. It¡¯s a ssic Victorian, redone to modern meets mid-century, and I love it. I wish I came here more often, but the times I¡¯ve been invited I can count on one hand and still have fingers left up. I park around back, locking my SUV with the push of a button on my remote. I check to make sure I have my wallet and phone, and when I¡¯m officially out of stall tactics and my stomach is knotted up in nerves, I force myself to the door. My finger lingers over the doorbell button but I never press it, because Avery answers, wearing a white, wide-legged jumpsuit, the top without straps, hugging her slender body, defining the every curve of her small breasts. Her blonde hair is damp, like she¡¯s just showered, and her face is free of makeup, blue eyes shining in the faint light. ¡°Hi. Come on in.¡± It worries me that she hardly smiles as she greets me, but I follow after her anyway, treading quietly as wee to the kitchen. Sutton, wearing track pants and a UCLA t-shirt, nces up from where he¡¯s positioned at the stove. His eyebrows lift and then he returns his focus to the pot on the stove, where he stirs and blows. An eyebrow lift is the way he says hello, and there is no amount of time that can make that not hurt. ¡°Hello, Sutton.¡± Another lift of his eyebrows as he sprinkles salt into the soup he¡¯s stirring. ¡°Avery said you caught her in the office today, and that you need to speak with me.¡± Avery, who disappeared a moment ago, returns with three long-stemmed wine sses and a bottle of red. I wait for her to look my way, and when she does, I smile. ¡°Thank you for inviting me, Avery.¡± She smiles in return, but it fades when Sutton looks up between us. ¡°Did you share with Sutton what we discussed?¡± I nce at my son, and immediately have my answer. She didn¡¯t tell him. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to betray your confidence, Geo.¡± She curves the counter andes to stand right in front of Sutton, sinking her hands into the flesh that hides beneath his t-shirt as she grabs his hips, aligning their bodies. She blinks up at him, half his size but double both of our courage, apparently. ¡°I did not want to share with you something that shoulde from your father.¡± She rocks to her toes and he dips down a little, like her asking for his ear is something she does often enough for him to bend down without question. Routines, rituals, they have all that. Sutton is happy and I adore Avery. As much as it pains me to be here, Ford and Avery are right. It¡¯s time. When she sinks back onto the balls of her feet, she drags her hands out from beneath his shirt, tugging gently at the hem as she whispers, ¡°Okay?¡± He nods, and bends down to kiss her, and my chest constricts from not having what my son has, from seeing the tender way she soothes him, from being witness to a pure and beautiful love. Sutton slides a lid onto the soup and takes Avery by the hand, and I follow their lead, heading into the open living space. They take a seat on a couch, and I take a seat across from them on a chair no doubt hand-picked by Avery, a burgundy velvet tufted chair, one that looks fantastic in redone Victorian era homes, with aspen wood feet and ornate backing. I smooth my fingers over the luxurious armrest, and finally look up at them. Avery is wearing a small smile of hope, while Sutton simply frowns. My eyes fall to therge stone on Avery¡¯s finger, and I remember that I have to do this. ¡°Talking about her never gets easier, all these yearster,¡± I start, wasting no time with preamble about how our days went or how wedding nning is going. He knows I¡¯m here with intent, and if I don¡¯t rip the Band-Aid off, Avery might. The noise of the room¨Cthe whirr of the ceiling fan, the clicking of the arm on the grandfather clock, the gentle sway of olive leaves against the ss window from the bay breeze outside¨C it all falls away as I meet my son¡¯s eyes. ¡°Your mother loved you so, so much. You were her pride and joy. You were everything to her, Sutton, and I want you to know that, or, if you already knew, be reminded of it. Because it¡¯s important that you understand, amongst everything else I¡¯m going to say, that she loved you. You were easily the best part of her life.¡± One of Sutton¡¯s nostrils lifts and he tips his head to the side, but he says nothing. Avery ces her hand on his knee, eyes on me, and squeezes a little. ¡°Okay,¡± he says, his form of meeting me halfway. I nod my head, appreciating the single word, of the lifeline, of any reaction whatsoever. ¡°I lied. All those years ago, I lied about Mom to protect your image of her, and I don¡¯t know¡­¡± I trail off, scratching at the side of my jaw as I consider things differently now, for maybe the first time. ¡°I thought if I made myself the bad guy, I could save you from knowing her the way I did, from ruining all your childhood memories. But maybe now I wonder if I was lying for myself. To preserve my own ego, afraid to let the world atrge know the type of woman I loved, or ashamed, maybe to let the world know the way she loved me in return.¡± Sutton¡¯s brows pull together and he shakes his head. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± My eyes veer to a silent Avery, her hand still gripping Sutton¡¯s knee. She nods, telling me to keep going, tipping her cheek to his shoulder in quiet support of us both. ¡°All those years ago, that night your mom passed away, I rewrote it all for the media and paid a few people to go along with my story.¡± Out loud, now, yearster without heightened emotion and a young child¡¯s vision of his mother on the line, it sounds so stupid. Like such a bad choice. Nausea stings my senses. ¡°And so much of the truth aligned that¡­ I didn¡¯t have to do much for everyone to roll with it.¡± Sutton huffs an impatient exhale, as if I should rattle off the truth of his whole life as fast as I can because my mere presence is so intolerable. ¡°Extend me a moment of patience,¡± I say to him, invisibly reigning in the asional anger that catches hold of me when I¡¯m catching the brunt of Sutton¡¯s attitude. ¡°Forgive me that discussing the day my wife was murdered may take me a few moments.¡± I try desperately not to snarl, but at this precise moment, I don¡¯t see Sutton as someone in the dark, I see him as an impatient and irrational person who can do better for his father. Avery¡¯s tongue slides along the supple curve of her bottom lip as she leans forward, pressing her hand into the mirrored table between us. ¡°I forgot the wine.¡± She stands, her jumpsuit which had bunched at her hips from sitting, whooshes down, the soft probably expensive fabric unraveling with ease. Avery bends at the waist, kissing Sutton at his hairline before dropping quiet, private words into his ear. He nods and murmurs a rough ¡°yes¡± to her, then focuses squarely on me. I already really liked Avery Bet, but seeing the way she brings my son ease almost immediately makes my chest tighten. ¡°Continue,¡± Sutton says, softly adding, ¡°please.¡± I hold his eyes, the ones that look so much like hers, the eyes that remind me that Margot, though gone, was absolutely the best thing to happen to me. She gave me him. ¡°Your mother was the love of my life. But the love of her life was attention.¡± I swallow thickly against a prickly knot of emotion already rising up in my throat. I¡¯ve only just begun and I¡¯m already feeling exhausted. Avery returns, passing me a ss of wine before collecting hers off the table and passing another to Sutton. ¡°Desired,¡± she corrects softly before taking a slow and passively seductive sip of wine. ¡°I think it was more apt when you said desired.¡± I shrug, because she¡¯s right and yet, to me, those words are interchangeable when ites to Margot. ¡°I would agree that desired is far more romantic, and I¡¯m not trying to shift the narrative of what I said to you to what I¡¯m telling Sutton. But the truth was, Margot just¡­ it was never enough.¡± I need a sip of wine because my throat is starting to split, raw and rough from how tense I¡¯ve be. Sutton and Avery do the same, and after a moment, I continue. ¡°No matter how much attention or affection I gave, she was never sated. And the partying, she just¡ªwe had you and she was good or, I don¡¯t know¨Cbetter?¡± I shake my head as I think back to those nights that Margot had wine despite the fact that she learned she was pregnant. Or when she slept with another man while pregnant with Sutton. Those were less egregious offenses than normal, and at the time, I was grateful for less. ¡°She loved attention, and she could never find the bottom to her needs. I tried to be okay with it at one point, just because it was easier than being upset all the time.¡± Sutton just stares at me, nkly, holding his wine motionlessly as Avery stares up at him. My eyes slide to her, and she looks at me for a moment before slipping her hand from Sutt¡¯s knee to his thigh. She pats him, just once, lightly, I can¡¯t even hear it. But he rolls his lips together, and in a hoarse whisper he asks, ¡°Are you saying she cheated on you?¡± I scratch the back of my head, finding it hot, and my neck, too. She has such a calming way with him, and I truly didn¡¯t expect this talk to go this way. He¡¯s listening. He¡¯s understanding. He isn¡¯t yelling or walking away. And that¡¯s Avery. ¡°She was never faithful to me, but I thought it was something I could navigate and handle¡­ ordingly,¡± I reply, adding, ¡°I¡¯d do it all the same, for what it¡¯s worth. I¡¯ve never loved anyone the way I loved her.¡± Avery sips her wine then rests her cheek against Sutton¡¯s shoulder again. He nces down at her, then up at me. ¡°What happened that night? If what I read online, in the papers, if that was coercion, if that was a lie, whatever. Then¡­ what happened?¡± I finish my wine, because I don¡¯t want to hold the ss. I set it on the table and cradle my temples with the heels of my palm, just for a moment, just to steady myself. It¡¯s not a singr ss of wine getting to me. It¡¯s remembering this specific night, again, for the second time in one day after putting it out of my mind for years. For survival. ¡°We¡¯d taken you to the beach for fireworks. It was the 4th of July and you were dying to go to the marina. Afterward, we came home, swam, and ate some ice cream.¡± ¡°I remember,¡± Sutton says, and those two words dust my eyes in mist. I swallow. ¡°You went to bed around, I don¡¯t know, nine o¡¯clock,¡± I remind him, knowing that he won¡¯t remember or have heard any of what¡¯s going toe next. ¡°She wanted to go out. At first, she wanted me to call the nanny so we could go downtown together, to the bar.¡± ¡°Was she an alcoholic?¡± he asks, his voice steady, his chest rising and falling as if he¡¯s just taken a run. Avery presses her palm to the center of his sternum. She brings her ss up, and he does the same, and together, they take a drink. When his eyes settle on me again, I answer him. ¡°Yes.¡± I nce at Avery and back to Sutton. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to. I wanted to stay home. As soon as she knew I wouldn¡¯te, she left. Without me with her, I knew where she was going and exactly who she wanted to go see.¡± This is the part that I regret. Sometimes I wonder, if I had left her for the things she did to me, would she have changed? Could I have saved her? Was it my responsibility to save her and did I fail us both? The thoughts I have. It took me years to really get to sleep at night. ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asks, and the confusion on his face, though painful, is more tolerable than what I know ising next. ¡°She was seeing him.¡± Four words that only Ford had heard me say until now. ¡°Barry Allen?¡± Sutton asks, saying his name aloud to me for the first time ever. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s spoken it tons of times, but it¡¯s the first time I¡¯m hearing him acknowledge that he has without a doubt read all about what happened. I nod. ¡°Yes. I had first met him in Los Angeles. Then he and his wife moved to San Francisco and it waspletely random that Barry and Margot bumped into each other. Then we went on a double date.¡± Nothing is blurry about this at all, but it feels malevolent to rehash details that make no difference now. The story can be told without every stone being unturned. ¡°It¡¯s fuzzy here,¡± I lie, forgoing the details of how Margot simply asked Barry for his number right there in front of me and Josie, because she wanted it at the perfume counter, but had forgot. That¡¯s how she was. When she wanted something, she made it a game. Teased, med the booze, seduced, all of it. I always took her back, despite not believing any of her bullshit, because I loved her so fucking much. ¡°But they started seeing each other, your mom and Barry. She didn¡¯t hide it. She never really bothered hiding it. She¡¯d say she was gonna go have some fun, and she¡¯de back hours, sometimes dayster.¡± Sutton shakes his head. ¡°I don¡¯t remember that. I don¡¯t remember her like that.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t,¡± I say calmly, sinking back into the chair. ¡°This is nice,¡± I look at Avery, and she smiles. ¡°Thank you, I had it reupholsteredst fall.¡± ¡°I suspected.¡± ¡°Hey,¡± Sutton snaps, impatient. Avery, though, she¡¯s the one who engaged in side conversation and I see what she¡¯s doing. She¡¯s pacing him, making Sutton sit with his impatience and wait. It¡¯s control, soft and invisible, and I¡¯m not even sure she knows she has it, or is doing it. But it¡¯s sexy as hell. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t remember her like that because you had no idea, Sutton. You were coddled and shielded, purposely. She was very good at being a mother, she was great at being great for you.¡± He didn¡¯t know howplex she was because he never got the opportunity. And he¡¯ll never know what he¡¯s missing out on, and neither will she. Sutton sucks in a breath, pausing for a moment in thought before saying, ¡°I remember the smell. When she kissed me at night. The smell of alcohol on her breath.¡± A burning, aching, all-consuming knot of pain clogs my throat, and my body yearns to go to my child, to pull him into my arms and console him for the pain I allowed him to experience. I knew she was an alcoholic. I didn¡¯t want it to be true, but I knew that it was. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, son. I¡¯ve failed you in so many ways. And all I can say is that at the time, I thought I was preserving something for you. A normal childhood with your mother there but¡­ I realize now I was so addicted to her that I kept her there. Hurting you. Damaging you. I should have made her leave. I should have done a lot of things differently.¡± ¡°But you didn¡¯t,¡± Sutton says, nearly stopping my heart. Almost making me sick. His voice is even keel, and his face is too. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°You did what you thought was right,¡± he says, surprising me. I pull my head up from where it was hanging between my shoulders. ¡°I did.¡± ¡°So just¡­ exin to me what that was.¡± He doesn¡¯t sound angry and¨CI nce at Avery¡¯s hand, still resting on Sutton¡¯s thigh. Her ring shines beneath the lights, and so do her eyes. ¡°At the time, I just, I missed your mother so much that the idea of you hating her or knowing who she really was, it made me sick. I thought you thinking of me as a cheating asshole was easier to stomach, and potentially repairable. But the idea of you knowing the truth about your mom after you¡¯d just lost her, I just, I couldn¡¯t bear it.¡± I shake my head, and split a nce between the two of them before fishing the USB drive from my pocket. Sliding it across the small mirrored table, I sit back and nod to it. ¡°I have kept in touch with Josie Allen, who keeps in touch with Barry, through letters. She sends me his letters when she believes it could benefit us, and they¡¯re there, digitally.¡± Sutton just shakes his head, wordlessly. Avery¡¯s brows pull together as she curls her legs beneath her on the couch. ¡°What happened that night? With Barry? Why did he kill her?¡± I look at the USB drive, because letters from Barry to Josie in the year after he killed Margot is how I learned what I know now. And those letters are on that drive. ¡°He thought that Margot was going to leave me to be with him. He¡¯d nned on leaving Josie, too,¡± I tell Avery and Sutton, though my eyes stay on the small, rectangr device on the table. ¡°That night she told him that she¡¯d changed her mind. She didn¡¯t want to leave me, because she didn¡¯t want to leave you.¡± Sutton finishes his wine and slides the ss onto the table,ing to rest at the edge of the couch cushion. Avery does the same. ¡°Wait so, she actually was going to leave you?¡± I blink down at the USB, seeing the handwritten and photocopied words all over again in my mind, feeling the pain radiate from my chest all over again. Margot cheated a ton. Until Barry, though, she never wanted to leave me. ¡°Seeing those letters, to this day, I don¡¯t know if she only told Barry she wanted to be with him to buy some breathing room or if she meant it. All I know is that either way, she changed her mind because of you. She didn¡¯t want to lose you, Sutton.¡± Silence fills in the room around us, and I sink into it,fortably, waiting for my son to process. I¡¯ve put it all out there, and this talk has gone as well as it could, thanks to Avery. ¡°You can have that and read every letter that Josie has sent me of his. I¡¯m no longer trying to hide any of it from you.¡± He shakes his head. ¡°The papers said you were a womanizer. That you cheated on her constantly, that Barry killed her because you were sleeping with Josie. You mean to tell me, you selected that narrative, for everyone who reads the papers or knew you to think that you were a man who cheated on your wife and got her, essentially, murdered because of it? I¡¯m supposed to believe you fell on some sword for me?¡± Avery attempts to drop her arm around him, but he gets to his feet, so I do the same. ¡°Sutton,¡± Avery says softly, ¡°he¡¯s not?¡ª¡± ¡°Is there anyone who can corroborate your story?¡± my son asks me. For a moment, I rey the evening, and then reconsider his question. ¡°Do you think I woulde into your home and lie to you?¡± I ask him, my heart shattering into a million pieces when he pauses before he replies. Avery steps between us, a palm into each of our chests. ¡°Let¡¯s just calm down, okay?¡± ¡°I¡¯m calm,¡± Sutton retorts. ¡°But forgive me if I need a moment to calibrate to the concept that I¡¯ve had it wrong my whole life,¡± he says just as the grandfather clock chimes. It¡¯s nine o¡¯clock. I have a meeting tomorrow. I¡¯ve said what I had to say. ¡°You can contact Josie Allen. You can go through those letters,¡± I say of the USB drive sitting idly by. ¡°You can ask your uncle.¡± I don¡¯t bother seeking a goodbye handshake or hug, because that would be a fool¡¯s errand. Instead, I take my wine ss to the sink, finding them in the kitchen when I turn around. ¡°I wanted your memory of her to remain intact, and you missed her so much that I thought if you knew the truth, it would destroy you. It was easier for me to be the viin out of pure selfishness. My heart was broken and so was yours¨CI couldn¡¯t handle you knowing the truth about her after all of that, at such a young age. I¡¯m sorry. I am. Ford said all along I should have just told you but as I¡¯ve said, I don¡¯t think I was ready for the world to know how broken I was, how much she hurt me, what I tolerated. I was ashamed and I just wanted my only son toe out of the darkness as well as he could.¡± I look at Avery, finding a single tear gliding down her cheek. ¡°Thank you for facilitating this evening.¡± I look up at my son, taller than me, smarter and stronger than me, too. ¡°If you have any questions, I¡¯m here. Thank you for listening.¡± I slip past them, out the back door, into the night, sucking down as much fresh, cool air as possible. That was hard, but it¡¯s done, and we¡¯re all going to be better off for it, that much I know for sure. I don¡¯t want to be alone tonight, but over the years, I¡¯ve learned that no matter who I¡¯m with, since Margot has been dead, I¡¯ve always been alone. Father Knows Best: Chapter 10 The New Reality I couldn¡¯t sleep a winkst night, but I refused to let myself toss and turn and keep Avery up all night, too. She only just officially moved in, I don¡¯t want her to start sleeping poorly, especially with our weddinging up. When she got home from work yesterday, I told her I¡¯d made a sale on a property in Half Moon Bay. She kissed me, but didn¡¯t wrap her arms around me the way she normally would, pressing to her toes and sneaking a kiss below the cor of my dress shirt. ¡°We need to talk,¡± she¡¯d said, and my heart nearly stopped, my mind going to a million things that all led to me no longer having Avery in my life. I don¡¯t know why I went there, maybe it¡¯s my greatest, deepest, most private fear? Then she said ¡°I talked to your father today, about your mother,¡± and everything shifted. To find out after living an entire life of believing my father¡¯s constant faithless fornication caused my mother¡¯s untimely death that none of that was real¡­ None of it was true. None of it happened, not the way I thought it did at least. ncing over, Avery¡¯s hair strewn over her face, soft exhales parting her lips every few seconds, I¡¯m overwhelmed with love for her. Love at first sight, that¡¯s what I felt when Iid eyes on herst year, and every day since, I¡¯ve fallen even harder. She¡¯s perfect for me, of that I¡¯m certain. My chest constricts when I look at Avery and consider my father¡¯s revision to history. He never loved anyone the way he loved my mother, he said, and that he loved her so hard that he couldn¡¯t fathom the world atrge knowing her faults. I blink down at my beautiful fianc¨¦e, my soft-spoken, delicate, kind fianc¨¦e and try to ce myself in his shoes. What if Avery slept around all the time and strung me along? I love her so much¨Cwould I love her enough to stay? My father stayed. He said he stayed because having some of her was better than having none of her, more or less. I try to imagine Avery in another man¡¯s bed, with another man inside of her, and my entire body tenses. He felt that. Every day. And after I found the courage to Google the entire situation when I was in junior high, my father went from carrying the pain of my mother and her untimely end to having to bnce that burden with my new, exposed, raw and very real wrath. He raised me well. I went to the best schools, he always helped with homework, he showed up at every baseball practice until I quit, always attended back to school nights and chess club tournaments. Though I held a painful and oftentimes confusing grudge against him from the adult ideas that I¡¯d learned from the inte, he never punished me for my attitude, or treated me any differently. As I got older, he did begin going out more, calling the nanny to take the spare room when he knew he¡¯d be in when the sun was already up. Still, in those years, he never failed me as a father, though I put him to the test many times. N?w ?ovel chapt?rs are published on Find?Novel As an adult, I fell into business with him easily, bing the best at what I do after years of watching him do it. I tagged along to many showings, sat through papers being signed when my dad struggled between nannies¡ªit made sense I followed in his footsteps, despite the fact that I harbored anger toward him for years. But once I was an adult, I watched my father sleep around with women his age, my age and everywhere in between. Once a woman waited for him in the lobby of Mercer on a Friday evening and he called her by the wrong name when he greeted her. All signs pointed to the past being true. Now, though, I¡¯m not so sure I didn¡¯t just see what I wanted to see. Women were never in the home when I woke up. He never had a girlfriend. He didn¡¯t remarry. He slept around, but is that such a crime? Quietly and carefully, I sit up in bed, letting the covers bunch at my waist as I gently stroke my hand through Avery¡¯s hair. She doesn¡¯t stir, and I take that moment to pull the sheet over her bare hip, and push strands of blonde silk off her cheek. I kiss her, and carefully leave the room, pulling the door closed behind me. He didn¡¯t give me the contact information, but I have it. I¡¯ve had it for a long time. Years, even. I¡¯ve thought of calling¡ªthough in the past, for different reasons than I¡¯m calling today. Trudging down the hall, I slip into my home office and lock the door, settlingfortably in my chair. Facing the window, I stare into the foggy early morning, watching troves of gray clouds tumble over the icywn, the sky settled atop my house on the hill. I don¡¯t believe my father would lie to me now, but the lie all those years ago is just as hard to process, though I¡¯d be lying if I said I didn¡¯t understand the thinking. Pulling open my drawer, I retrieve the folded piece of paper from beneath my day nner, where the number has rested untouched for quite some time. Even when I moved into this home, I reced the paper where it was before. Unfolding it, I blink down at the name and number written in pencil. Josie Allen. 415-966-8032. I left my cell phone on the charger next to my bed, so I reach for myndline, and dial. It¡¯s early, not more than a few minutes after seven. I hope that I don¡¯t wake her but more than that, I hope she answers. ¡°Hello?¡± I don¡¯t know what I expected, but her voice is aged, weary, and maybe some of that is the time of the morning but¡­ then again, my own father is nearly sixty years old. I have to remind myself that the Josie Allen that exists in my mind is thirty years old, the same age my father was when he met Barry. But it¡¯s not 1998 anymore, and Josie sounds aged because she is. ¡°Hello.¡± I lick my lips, ignoring the nerves flickering in my hand as I grip the phone with all my strength. ¡°This is Sutton Mercer. I am Margot Mercer¡¯s son.¡± There¡¯s a pause, and the silence transcends a single thoughtful moment as two seconds bleeds into three, then four, and after what feels like a minute of full silence, I quietly ask, ¡°Is this Josie Allen?¡± Maybe I should have started with that. Then again, if she¡¯d changed her number and this wasn¡¯t Josie Allen, I¡¯m not sure my announcement of who I am would¡¯ve elicited a minute of silence. ¡°Sutton,¡± she says, as if my name is familiar. ¡°Yes, this is Josie.¡± I lick my lips and leap, spitting the words out before I lose my courage. ¡°I called to understand what happened to my mother.¡±
An hourter, I return to the master bedroom, finding Avery in the same position I left her. She¡¯s been working so hardtely, not just at work but with the wedding ns and getting her ce cleaned up to list¡ªI told her today, she needed to sleep in. Yet so much energy courses through me after that phone call, I know as I spot her bare leg sticking out from ourforter that Avery will have to nap today to catch up on rest. Sleeping in is shot. I tug the sheet and nkets down, revealing her satin white pajama shorts, and so much sun-kissed, velvety skin that the morning wood that escaped me this morning due to overthought hits me hard. Reaching into my sleep pants, I fist my hardened cock and stare down at the woman who is going to take myst name and bear my children, the woman who rights me in all ways. She¡¯s been hungrier for metely, wanting things she¡¯s never expressed wanting before. I think about the way she put my hand beneath her panties the other day, standing in a stranger¡¯s home as we waited for services to arrive. Bold and so unlike her. I think the wedding stress is perhaps getting to her, so instead of unraveling her there, I choose now, crawling onto the bed over her body. Held up on strong arms, I dip my head and press a kiss to her sleeping lips, my erection pressed heavily into her center. Slowly, her eyes flutter open, and she blinks down at the way I¡¯m caged over her body. A beat passes and her lips part, and her eyes widen, and that¡¯s when I know she feels me, hard and waiting, needing her more than I think I ever have. I don¡¯t even want to wait for her to get naked. I need to get inside of her, to feel the safety and warmth that only Avery provides. I press my mouth to hers again, feeding her more growls and moans than I ever have before as I reach down and tug her shorts and panties aside. She reaches down too, but slips her hand in my pants, pulling my hard cock free. She slowly strokes me, and it feels so good, but I prefer being inside of her to anything else in the world. Her tongue slides against mine as I nudge her legs apart, and she aligns my slippery cockhead with her center. She moans into my mouth as I sink inside of her, finding her swollen and wet, like she was aroused while she slept. I brace myself on one arm long enough to rip open her satin sleep top, buttons skittering across the marble floor. She gasps but fills her hands with my hair as I dip my head, sucking the tip of her breast into my mouth, maintaining the pace between her spread legs. My cock is so hard, she feels so warm, her lips and her pussy are so soft¡ª ¡°I love you,¡± I breathe out, rutting into her harder, our groins kissing, the bed squeaking. I never go quick with Avery, I take my time, making love to her in a way that I know unravels her, making her orgasm with my hands before shees from me inside of her. But this morning, I can¡¯t slow down. My palms skate over her breasts. I grab her, pinching a nipple with one hand while crashing my mouth to her corbone, covering her in errant, sloppy kisses. She tugs and the ends of my hair, drags her nails down my back, digs her heels into my bare ass. I can¡¯t stop telling her that I love her as my momentum shifts from eager to wild. The bed knicks the wall as I sink deeper inside of her, each thrust more urgent, less skilled, sloppier. She wraps her legs around me, and I look down to see the satin pajama shorts and little white panties I pulled aside are made dark by us¨Cher arousal and mine, too. I¡¯ve never needed her so bad that I¡¯ve torn her clothing, or mauled her awake, but I love the way she gives herself over, knowing somehow as she lifts from the pillow to fill my mouth with her tongue, that we need this. ¡°Avery,¡± I ground out, reaching between us to stroke her clit, but she shakes her head, pping at my arm for me to stop. ¡°No, I¡¯m, just¡­ just¡­¡± her eyes roll closed, a gentle flutter, perspiration glittering on her eyelids. ¡°Keep going, please, Sutt, please,¡± she moans. With my elbows sunk deep into the memory foam mattress, I take her face in my hands and crush my mouth to hers. Our kiss is gnashed teeth and tangled tongues, moans and whispers of soon and close. My hips slow and my erection pulses, short circuiting my brain as I throb and pulse, emptying myself into Avery as she clenches and moans all around me. Wee together, sweaty and panting in the early Saturday sun. When I catch my breath, I slip out of her and clean her up using a damp towel from the bathroom. I bring her one of my old college t-shirts from the drawer, and a new pair of her panties and help redress her while she sits up in the center of our bed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about your pajamas,¡± I tell her, as she sits with her legs crossed, bare legs smooth and exposed, lips still swollen from making love. Her hair is mussed and tangled, but her blue eyes shine in the soft glow of morning. ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± My head jerks up from where I¡¯d been focused on retying my pants. Avery wears a sinister little smile, one that makes my groin feel tight and heavy all over again. ¡°That was spontaneous, and hot.¡± My mind veers back to the phone call I made this morning as I extend a hand to my fianc¨¦e. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll make you an espresso and French toast, then we can go taste some cakes.¡± I collect Avery in my arms, loving the soft squeal thates from her as I toss her over my shoulder and swat her rear, covered only by my t-shirt and tiny panties. Once I take her down stairs, I lower her to a barstool. ¡°How are you feeling, you know, about everything the other night?¡± she asks quietly as I fill the grinder with fresh beans from the local market. Once the press is in and the machine is on, I grip the edge of the counter, and face Avery. ¡°I called her this morning, while you were asleep. Josie Allen.¡± The sleep left in Avery¡¯s expression drains, and she sits up a bit straighter. ¡°You did?¡± I nod, and then tell her what I both wanted to be true and also hoped was a lie. ¡°My father was telling the truth. About it all. Josie corroborated.¡± Avery slips off the stool and crushes into me, looping her arms around my waist as she presses her cheek to my chest. ¡°Baby,¡± she says, and nothing more. She just holds me, and we stand there, swaying to the sound of espresso being made. ¡°How do you feel?¡± she finally asks when she steps back, her face pink from being pressed to me so tightly. ¡°Numb.¡± Father Knows Best: Chapter 11 The Repair ¡°Butterscotch Bourbon,¡± Avery tells Amelie on the phone, which sits on her dresser, speakerphone on. ¡°It wasn¡¯t just the best of what we tasted. It was the best thing I¡¯ve tasted ever,¡± she tells her best friend while I tug down the zipper on her dress. ¡°Thanks,¡± she mouths quietly to me as it pools at her feet. A momentter, she steps out of it and picks it up, sliding a hanger through the neck before rehanging it in the closet. ¡°Is that so? You bring home a sample for me to try?¡± Amelie asks, partially teasing but also probably partially serious. Averyughs. ¡°Actually, we did bring a sample home because I¡¯m so obsessed with it, I wanted to eat it one more time before the wedding.¡± Having been summoned to unzip her, I head back downstairs while she redresses intofortable clothes, filling Amelie in on everything we tried at Patisserie Bleu. After selecting the perfect cake, we came home and on the drive, Avery suggested that I ask my father to meet for ate lunch or early dinner. To discuss everything, just the two of us. I called from the car, and he agreed, and now as Avery settles in at home, I¡¯m standing at the kitchen ind, trying to wrap my head around what I¡¯m about to do. Of my own free will. Unrted from real estate. Have a meal with my father. Just the two of us. We haven¡¯t done that since¡­ Well, since right about the time I discovered the magic of googling things. Avery appears at the top of the stairs, dressed in ck leggings and a tiny crop top. For a moment, I consider asking her to join us but then I remember how I woke her up this morning, the morning I¡¯d promised she could sleep in. She drops her phone receiver to her chin for a moment, asking, ¡°Are you heading out?¡± I nod. I didn¡¯t even bother changing. I didn¡¯t make reservations for somewhere fancy, private or quiet. Instead, we¡¯re meeting at a sushi bar not far from the office, because it¡¯s busy and no one pays you too much attention. The perfect ce to continue a hard talk. Or at least, not feel like we¡¯re sitting in a pressure cooker. My head has felt that way for thest eleven and a half hours¨CI don¡¯t want more of it. ¡°I love you,¡± she says, the corners of her delicate mouth lifting, and I swear if we were outside, birds would sing and the sun would shine. That¡¯s the way it feels, being looked at by Avery with those doe eyes. ¡°I love you. I¡¯ll be back in a bit.¡± She shrugs one shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t rush it.¡± She winks, and the back of my neck flushes, and I flex my quads, diffusing the rush of blood to my groin. She blows me a kiss and I wink back to her, then she goes back down the hall, returning to her conversation with Amelie. Then I go and have a meal with my father. For the first time willingly in my adult life.
My spine stiffens and by default, my chest goes taut, too. ¡°Hi,¡± I greet my father as he maneuvers past a couple taking up way too much space near the front doors,ing to my side in the waiting area. ¡°I got here about five minutes ago and they said ten minutes then.¡± My father nods his head. ¡°Hi and that¡¯s good.¡± He looks around and I study him, really taking in every wrinkle and silver hair, seeing his gentle aging in a different light now. He was stressed and taking care of everything when I was a kid. Most of my youth and adult years, he¡¯s preferred that I hate him instead of her, because of how special she was to me as a kid. He signed up for my hatred to protect my love for her. Every child loves their mother. I would have loved her no matter what. I still do. I always loved my father. I still can¡¯t quite wrap my head around what he did. His reasoning is sound and yet, I don¡¯t know. I won¡¯t lie to him and tell him I trust him. I have trust issues with him specifically, and maybe that¡¯s why I can¡¯t wrap my head around what he did. Maybe a big part of me doesn¡¯t believe it. Maybe I¡¯m convinced he¡¯s lying. I don¡¯t know. I do believe him, but catching up to that is hard. I want to give it up after all these years. Hate is heavy to carry, and I¡¯ve long been exhausted. I¡¯m ready, as I marry and grow, to move on. I want to leave it behind¨Call that hate. But I refuse to make a mistake and dishonor my mother¡¯s memory by racing to conclusions. I have to actually believe him¨Cthough the more time I¡¯ve thought about that, the more I¡¯ve realized that¡¯s not really even up for debate. I remember some of my mother¡¯s imperfections. That¡¯s what she called her bad qualities or even sometimes, the terrible things that she did. If I think about things logically, without years of false hatred dislodging my sense of truth, I can understand how this narrative is the real one. We stand in silence a moment before the waitress surprises us both by seating us next, walking us to a booth in the back corner of the restaurant, still bustling nheless. ¡°I didn¡¯t know we had to be seated here. I thought it was a self-seating type of ce,¡± I say to my father as we sit down across from one another. He shrugs out of his coat, revealing a softly worn henley, unbuttoned some. He scratches his beard, a bit longer than usual. ¡°Ah, well, I don¡¯t mind.¡± ¡°What were you going to do tonight, had I not texted?¡± I ask him, curious as to what he had going on. I¡¯ve never been curious before. I used to shut interest off in my brain where it concerned George Mercer. But knowing my father would be nice. He pinches the fabric of his shirt, probably because he saw me eyeing it. ¡°Going to bed in about three hours. And until then,ying in bed watching HBO.¡± If Avery were here, she¡¯d wrinkle her nose and suggest that my father pick up a book, a novel of some sort, to give him something new to talk about. My lips almost twitch at the thought of her, but I stay focused on George. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound bad.¡± I mean that. Kind of. Maybe only a tiny bit. He studies me a moment and a smirk dusts his lips for a mere second before he murmurs, ¡°But I¡¯d much rather spent my night doing whatever it is you would be doing.¡± For a second, I see his hands on Avery, and my body shes with heat, jealousy and rage so hot that a sheen of sweat breaks out everywhere. And I think my pulse is racing a little. ¡°I just mean, if you guys have Saturday night movie night or something, even if it¡¯s a movie I¡¯d hate, I¡¯d still rather be doing that than be alone.¡± He shrugs, but wears a smile that would indicate to the unfamiliar eye that he¡¯s happy. I can see now, as clear as day, he is far from. ¡°Loneliness is not for the weak, I¡¯ll tell you that.¡± George Mercer is lonely? ¡°You don¡¯t date?¡± I ask, the words sticky and awkward on my tongue, tumbling out like a jack. We don¡¯t do this. We haven¡¯t done this. Small talk. But we are now. I think this is what they call mending fences. And I think I¡¯m into that. He shakes his head. The waitress stops by and we order, and after she leaves, return to conversation. ¡°I don¡¯t even bother dating anymore. The young women want me for my money, and I don¡¯t me them. It¡¯s hard out there right now.¡± I roll my eyes. ¡°You¡¯re filthy rich.¡± His shrug is casual. ¡°Even so, I realize it¡¯splicated and frustrating out there. That¡¯s all.¡± I don¡¯t know why I can¡¯t let this go. Maybe this is because my conditioned response is to snap at him at all costs, to protect the memory of my mother. Though none of that stands now, does it? ¡°Out where? None of your clients are affected, either. You¡¯re selling million dor homes. And your brother is as rich as you. Your social circle¨C¡± He ces his palms t on the surface of the table. ¡°Jesus, Sutton. I¡¯m entitled to empathize without the inquisition.¡± Laughter bubbles up inside me and I don¡¯t stop it. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Iugh, happy to see he won¡¯t be bullied or pushed around to earn me back. I respect that. He grins but a moment passes, and it¡¯s like a curtain is drawn and we¡¯re both suddenly pushed onto a stage and reality is the audience. My throat is dry andpletely unlike myself, I be nervous. ¡°Why now?¡± He is calm and quiet. ¡°Why now, what?¡± ¡°Whye clean about all of this now.¡± I shrug. ¡°I was an asshole to you for basically my entire life.¡± He doesn¡¯t even shift his shoulders or bat an eye. ¡°I told you why. I didn¡¯t want you thinking your mother was out partying and sleeping around, and I knew the media would make much more of a deal of that story than it being the other way around.¡± I shake my head. ¡°I just struggle with that. That¡¯s such a big sacrifice. I have to be honest, I can¡¯t wrap my head around it.¡± My father smiles. ¡°You don¡¯t have children. You don¡¯t know yet how willing you are to do anything that makes their life better. Even if it means painful sacrifice.¡± He looks at his hand, outstretching his thick fingers, ncing at where there would be a ring. ¡°I think I did it as much for her, too, though. I couldn¡¯t bear the idea of her soul or spirit or something¡ªof it knowing that her child hated her and carried additional pain, with added resentment. And the way your eyes lit up when you looked at your mother¡ªI just couldn¡¯t do it.¡± His honesty is rare and pure, and what I wanted but also very unexpected, as are the array of emotions I feel. Namely, respect. ¡°I¡¯m angry with you,¡± I admit, because it feels like the moment to relieve the most overwhelming of my thoughts. ¡°For allowing me to treat you that way.¡± ¡°Ironically for your own good,¡± he says, chuckling a little, a slight shrug in his shoulders. ¡°Or so I thought.¡± I finger the edge of the napkin ring for a moment, then look back up at him. ¡°Do you regret it? You said before that you¡¯d do it the same way again but knowing that I forgive you¨C¡± ¡°Do you?¡± he stops me, ¡°forgive me? Don¡¯t feel pressured into saying yes. I want you to work through it.¡± I shake my head. ¡°I don¡¯t think you can fully work through your mother being murdered but you know,¡± I shrug, ¡°I¡¯ve made peace with her not being here today. Making peace with what actually happened may take a while, but in the meantime, it feels foolish to spend any more days without my father in my life.¡± Two wide eyes stare back at me, unflinching as my heart races. I clear my throat and add, ¡°It would be childish for me to hang on to my grudge with what I know now, and while trust isn¡¯t going toe overnight, we have to start somewhere.¡± ¡°Did she make you like this?¡± he asks, his voice bloated with organic surprise. ¡°Like what?¡± ¡°Reasonable.¡± Wrapping my hand around my water ss, I let out a breath. ¡°I¡¯m choosing not to be offended by that.¡± Heughs, and I can¡¯t help but chuckle in return. ¡°You have to admit, son. You¡¯re pretty stiff and easily agitated. That¡¯s why I believe it¡¯s your better half.¡± He smiles, and I remember seeing that smile across the dinner table when I was young. ¡°You are thepany you keep, after all.¡± My mother¡¯s facees to mind. I shake my head. ¡°I was only agitated by you, and cold to you.¡± My father¡¯s face twists as he shakes his head in choppy, short shakes. ¡°No. I mean, you¡¯ve been a rightful asshole to me for years, yes, but you¡¯ve only be moderately less unfriendly since meeting Avery.¡± The wait staff interrupts, but a momentter, my father¡¯s face lookspletely different and I don¡¯t think ordering sushi has anything to do with that. ¡°It¡¯s my fault. All of this. I should¡¯ve just told you back then. Instead you were raised in a home with a person who you hated. Of course you turned out cold and stiff.¡± ¡°Can we stop calling me cold and stiff? Christ, I sound like I belong on a b.¡± We take a few drinks and I wipe my mouth with my napkin. ¡°I saw a therapist, I see a therapist still from time to time. If you want to feel guilty,¡± I tell him, holding eye contact as the waiter delivers tes of food. ¡°Do that on your time. But we¡¯re here.¡± I think of Avery¡¯sst few words. Mend fences, and sow fields. She didn¡¯t want me to simply ept an apology. She wants us to have a rtionship with my father, a healthy, normal one. And I will give Avery anything and everything she pleases. I take pride in doing so. ¡°Let¡¯s focus on what¡¯s ahead,¡± I tell him, deciding those are the best words and the only way left to put it. He nods slowly, and drags his hand over his mouth before saying, ¡°Okay, great.¡± I take a bite of my food. ¡°So, about me calling Uncle Ford about my vows.¡± He takes a bite of his food, too, eyeing me,ughter in his eyes. My pulse kicks up, and I realize that we aren¡¯t going to just get along, it¡¯s going to be fucking great. This content belongs to F¦ÉndNovel After he takes a sip of his drink, he res his eyebrows to his hairline and blinks at me. ¡°I understand what you thought about me but Uncle Ford is basically celibate, you realize that, right?¡± Iugh. ¡°I assumed that¡¯s where Cade got it from.¡± My father snorts. ¡°Learned celibacy? Is that what my brother passed to his son?¡± I shake my head, letting one of my shoulders casually rise and fall. ¡°What do you think you passed to me?¡± His head tips to the side as he considers me, maybe differently now that we¡¯re no longer functioning as enemies. Guilt is going to hit me hard, I know it¡¯sing. I¡¯m still high right now¨Criding the adrenaline of having something so heavy miraculously lifted from my shoulders. And I¡¯m getting married to my dream woman. Who works by my side. ¡°I can tell you, if you don¡¯t know.¡± It¡¯s simple to me, but he¡¯s been the bad guy for so many years, and I¡¯m sure I haven¡¯t been his only critic¨Cmaybe he¡¯se to believe these things about himself. ¡°I gave you the work ethic. Your mother worked hard, but not continuously, and I think we both know working hard means nothing if you¡¯re inconsistent.¡± I nod. ¡°I would agree. Though I am driven.¡± ¡°I agree.¡± We eat for a few minutes,menting on the food and how fresh everything is. He tells me about a sushi ce he went to while vacationing in Oahu, and how delicious it was getting to eat fresh fish with his toes in the sand. I tell him about the time I took Avery to the beach in Malibu where the water was more brown than blue, ice cold, andpped at a shore covered in rocks and garbage. It reminded me of San Francisco, so it wasn¡¯t much of a vacation. Heughs at that, and Iugh too. And before we know it, it¡¯s time to go. We don¡¯t hug, but we shake hands, and that feels like the perfect start. Tonight feels like the perfect start to something good. Father Knows Best: Chapter 12 The Arousal My lower back is aching. And the arches of my feet hurt like hell. These stupid sneakers I have on¡ªthey¡¯re adorable, but they are so not worth it. After six and a half hours of moving and rearranging furniture, hoisting potted nts around four-thousand square feet, and mopping up my own hand and foot prints so as to not leave a mark when it was all said and decorated-done? I¡¯m in dire need of a foot massage, a hot bath or my bed. Or maybe all three. But not without Sutton first. God, I can¡¯t wait to go home. ¡°We¡¯re headed back to the office after this, right boss?¡± Brandon asks, and my eyes pop open, and I stand up a bit straighter. ¡°Yeah, we have to go back for onest meeting with the new storagepany, remember?¡± I invite him to these meetings because he¡¯s doing the lion-share of actual moving and storage. He should be there. Discover more novels at Find_Novel(. He looks out across the space as I survey our work for thest time, making sure all the staging is just right. It¡¯s an art. People may think it¡¯s merely decorating, but cultivating both a beautiful and functional space for a family is an art. This family room could be in a magazine, a television show, or in a real, everyday home. My narcissism is cut short when Brandon gently bumps his hip into mine. I¡¯m not really a fan of people who force yful, casual contact that way. It feels like an overstep of my boundaries, but my fear of being gaslit and teased keeps me quiet on the matter. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± I ask, my dryness and deadpan clearly meaningless to him as he grins on. I like Brandon, but every so often, he gets like this. Like he¡¯s in heat and I¡¯m his prey, but he isn¡¯t sure what to do so it¡¯s just a lot of around the bush questions and staring. I stand tall when I talk to him, and look him in the eye. Just in case. He smiles, though, and replies. ¡°I just wanted to say congrattions again, you know, on the engagement.¡± I feel obligated to hold up my hand, though I don¡¯t want to in this instance because I wholly know that Brandon does not give a shit about my ring. Still, I lift my hand. ¡°Thank you.¡± He smiles, then looks at his shoes, which is a bad sign. A person who looks down at their shoes midsentence is usually one of two things; 1. About to admit something big or 2. Going to tell you something you don¡¯t want to hear. I have a sneaking suspicion it¡¯s thetter. ¡°You¡¯re so young¡ªare you sure you want to tie yourself down? You know, you have to really grow on your own as a person to know what you need, or else you have to grow with that person.¡± He shakes his head. ¡°That¡¯s hard to do.¡± And you¡¯d know this from never having a girlfriend? ¡°We¡¯remitted.¡± I smile, then take another peek at the kitchen, finishing off in the guest bathroom adjacent to the back door. When we¡¯re in the driveway, the sun at our backs¡ªsecurity camera, too¡ªhe smiles. ¡°He¡¯s lucky.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll see you back at the office.¡± I smile, too, and then he goes off toward his truck, and I get into my car. That was one of those things that wasn¡¯t outright awful but still set me slightly on edge. Asserting to know what age I should or should not do anything in my life is absolutely wild. But situations like that go one of two ways when confronting a person like this with their absurdity¨Cfirst, he¡¯s going to gaslight me and tell me I¡¯m delusional if I think he¡¯s interested¡ªhe was just making conversation, or secondly, it bes insanely ufortable. Funny though, I¡¯m not sure Brandon considered myfort when makingments about when I should marry, right? Why am I left being the only one to think of consideration andfort? In the car, I begin drumming my fingers on the wheel, trying very hard not to be grouchy and irritable. Instead of thinking about that, I focus on Sutton, and the way he woke me up the other morning. Morning sex is basically a scene out of Fifty Shades of Grey for Sutton. Exciting, new, thrilling. And it was. And it has me more excited than ever because I think I was right about him. Maybe there¡¯s a part of him, kinky and concupiscent, slowly rising to the surface, ready to grab hold and fuck me into uncharted territory. After we get married. I certainly hope. He may have rejected touching me in that property the other day, and he brushed me off when I wanted to go down on him, but he tongue kissed me in public. He proposed in public for goodness sake. And then the morning sex, with my shorts tugged aside like he couldn¡¯t possibly wait another moment to get inside me. More of Sutton is on the horizon, and when I think about that, clenching my thighs together beneath the steering wheel, I can¡¯t seem to care about Brandon and his bullshit.
I¡¯ve never been the type of person who hates the women that hit on Sutton. I don¡¯t me them¨CSutton is a walking happily ever after, and everyone wants their HEA. Where Chanel is concerned, however, she knows that Sutton is mine. There is no question that he belongs to me. And equally, no one doubts that I belong to him. Still. She flips her hair over her shoulder¡ªshiny and gorgeous¡ªandughs, passing Sutton a note on a yellow piece of stationary as he approaches reception. He doesn¡¯t spot me approaching through the double ss doors, and returns his focus to Roberta, who¡¯d approached the desk with him. Together, the two of them walk out of sight just as I pull open the ss door, making Chanel¡¯s head snap my way. Her smile slips, and before I can greet her, Brandon catches up to me, his hand sliding over mine as he holds the weight of the door, letting me in. ¡°I was trying to catch up with you downstairs, in the parking garage. You didn¡¯t hear me when you were getting on the elevator?¡± I shake my head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t.¡± I did hear, but ultimately decided that Brandon could catch the next elevator, and that by him asking to ride up with me did not ultimately entitle him to doing so. He drops a hand to grab my hip, squeezing just once. ¡°Congrats again, boss, that¡¯s all I meant to say.¡± I don¡¯t smile but instead stop in the middle of the office and take a small step away from him. ¡°Conference room in twenty minutes for the end of day meeting,¡± I remind him before slipping into my office and closing the door, letting out a long sigh. After this I¡¯m going to go find my fianc¨¦, go to our beautiful home together and cook a wonderful meal, maybe have a ss of wine and spend some time by the firece, or maybe even in the spa. It¡¯s going to be a lovely night and going home wound up over Brandon does me no good. There¡¯s a knock at my door that startles me, and I turn to pull it open, finding Geo there. ¡°May Ie in?¡± he asks, his voice quiet, almost private. ¡°Of course.¡± I nce at my watch. ¡°I have a meeting in twenty but¨C¡± Geo steps inside and quietly closes my office door, and shoves his hands in his cks pockets. I look at the two chairs in front of my desk, a couple of feet away, then look back to him, his gray eyes simmering on my profile. ¡°We can sit if you wanna talk?¡± He shakes his head. ¡°I saw youe back with Brandon.¡± The hip squeeze. I see it in his eyes, that he saw it, and now that casual touch has him wondering why Brandon feels sofortable touching me that way. Geo and I don¡¯t know one another as well as I¡¯d like, but to be fair, it¡¯s not been possible until now. How could I get close with my future family when my fianc¨¦ was estranged from him, more or less? I couldn¡¯t, but now that fences are mended, I do want Geo to know me, and I want to know him. I realize that at this moment, he isn¡¯t sure that I¡¯m undying and unflinchingly loyal to Sutton. He saw a man grab my hip, a man that I¡¯m with often, alone with often, and now he¡¯s here to question my loyalty. As much as I want to be offended, I love this for Sutton. I lift my chin. ¡°I would never disrespect Sutt by flirting with Brandon.¡± I press my lips together, and shake my head. ¡°By flirting with anyone.¡± His brows fall into a t line, and his eyes dart between mine, studying, analyzing. ¡°I know.¡± My head falls to the side as the muffled end of daymotion rubs up against my office door. ¡°You¨C¡± I¡¯m suddenly puzzled. ¡°I thought¨C¡± ¡°Avery, I can see how you feel about my son when you nce at him across the office. And being in your home, seeing the two of you together¡ªI do not question your loyalty to Sutton whatsoever.¡± My chest warms. ¡°Thank you,¡± I breathe out, relieved and assured but also acutely aware now that Geo has been aware of me. Of both me and Sutton. More than I ever realized. ¡°I don¡¯t care for Brandon,¡± Geo says, still standing there in his suit, hands in pockets, right by the door. ¡°And I just came in here to see if you¡¯re okay.¡± ¡°Okay?¡± I bring my hand to my chest, and let my fingertips find the pav¨¦ diamond ne on my throat, one gifted to me by Sutton on our one-month anniversary. ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± I tell him, caught off guard by the question. He nces down at my hip, as if it may look visibly injured or altered from Brandon¡¯s simple touch. His eyese back to mine, and my stomach clenches at the intense gazeing from my soon to be father-inw. ¡°He shouldn¡¯t touch you like that. You¡¯re his boss. He works for you. If that made you feel ufortable, it¡¯s okay to share that. I will handle Brandon.¡± It did make me ufortable, but a fireable offense? I think back briefly to Brandon at the staging site, asking me if I was sure I wanted to hamper my growth by getting married so young. I shake my head. ¡°It¡¯s fine, Geo. I¡¯m alright.¡± Geo studies me then nods his head. ¡°Okay.¡± I smile. ¡°Thank you for your concern.¡± He doesn¡¯t smile but opens the door, and with his hand on the knob he says, ¡°Thank you for helping bring my son back to me.¡± ¡°You did that,¡± I tell him. ¡°The truth did that.¡± He winks, and something hot uncurls in my belly, tearing through my lower half. ¡°You did that, Avery.¡± Then he walks out, stopping off at Jon Whitmore¡¯s desk for a moment. They¡¯re chatting and I¡¯m just about to close the door and gather my things for thest meeting of the day when Brandon appears, pressing a sheet of paper facedown on the open copy machine in the corner of the space. Geo does a double take, and excuses himself from the conversation he was holding with Jon. My throat tightens, and my spine grows tight as I watch Geo cross the room to Brandon, closing the copier with one strong hand. With just a foot of space between them, I watch Geo talk, my gaze bouncing between the thick etches of strain lining Geo¡¯s throat, and Brandon¡¯s face, swiftly morphing from surprised to something a little green and terrified. This tense, one-sided conversation doesn¡¯tst more than a few seconds, but I watch, my veins alight with heated energy, my cheeks rosy, my nipples hard. A few minutester, after Geo has disappeared into his office, my meeting begins. Brandon is polite, well-mannered and only looks at me when we directly speak to one another. And for whatever reason, his behavior is a turn on. Only, I¡¯m not turned on by him. I¡¯m turned on by someone else. Father Knows Best: Chapter 13 The Duo Sutton is on the phone when I open the door to his office and close it behind me. His brows pull together. ¡°Sure, and that¡¯s definitely something we¡¯ll take into consideration as we move forward, but for now, please keep in mind the sales cycle for a home that size. It¡¯s not going to fly off the market the day itnds.¡± My son continues nodding his head, rolling his eyes to me, indicating that he¡¯s likely on the phone with a jumpy seller. A momentter he says, ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll be in touch. Thank you.¡± He reces the handset and gets to his feet, but I motion with my hand that it¡¯s not that serious. ¡°No? Then what¡¯s up?¡± ¡°You need to find someone to rece Brandon Calhauser.¡± Sutton sits back down, and grabs the edge of his desk, rolling himself beneath it. He sips from histe-afternoon coffee wearing an amused smirk on his lips. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Rece him.¡± I realize we¡¯re rebuilding, but nheless, Sutton has no reason to doubt that I hold his best interests at heart. I always have. Clearly. He stops drinking his coffee, and sets it on the coaster before scratching his jaw. ¡°Avery heavily relies on Brandon. She trusts him and he¡¯s been working with her since before they became part of Mercer.¡± I blink at my son. ¡°I am aware of those things, Sutton. Remember? I met him the same day you did.¡± His shoulders lift and drop, as if his hands are tied. ¡°I can¡¯t rece Brandon unless it¡¯s Avery¡¯s wish.¡± I shake my head. ¡°I would not make this suggestion unless I felt it was imperative.¡± ???s ??????? ?s ?????? ?? f?ndnovel Sutton blinks, then brings his hand to his throat, adjusting his tie. ¡°Imperative?¡± I roll my neck, cracking out the difort that¡¯s built up in thest few minutes. I nce over my shoulder, through the ss to the conference room where Avery stands, speaking to a table full of people. Sutton¡¯s eyes follow me to her, and then our eyese together. ¡°I saw him touch Avery¡¯s hip a few minutes ago as they were returning to the office.¡± Sutton lifts one shoulder, but I see he isn¡¯t immediately shrugging it all off. My boy. He¡¯s like me. I know a part of him right now is on fire just imagining it, but he¡¯s trying to stay levelheaded. His dark eyes return to mine after a moment of floating over his desk. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ nothing.¡± He sees that I do not like his answer and adds, ¡°Okay, what was the context?¡± I shake my head. ¡°Does it matter?¡± Sutton¡¯s lips copse into a thin line. I let out a sigh. ¡°She didn¡¯t like it, Sutton, I saw it on her face.¡± He gets to his feet, filled with the same immediate dislike that filled me when I saw her face. ¡°Is she¨C¡± ¡°She¡¯s fine,¡± I tell him, seeing that his brain went just where mine went. ¡°It was just a hip grab, afterall,¡± I say, sarcastically using his words to show him that a hip grab is never just a hip grab. ¡°I just asked myself this¡ªwhen was thest time Sutton touched Roberta¡¯s hip in a yful conversation?¡± My son retracts back. ¡°I would never touch another woman in casual, professional conversation.¡± We stare at one another as his words sink in. He buttons his suit jacket with one hand,ing around his desk to stand next to me, eyes locked on the conference room across from his office. I pat his shoulder. ¡°Trust me, son. Brandon wants what¡¯s yours. And he¡¯s a disease to the office.¡± Sutton pops an eyebrow. ¡°What does that make Chanel?¡± The grin is slow to sweep my lips, but I can¡¯t stop it. ¡°Fine. Brandon goes, and so does Chanel.¡± His lips twitch for a pensive moment, then he grins. ¡°Are you serious?¡± I shrug one shoulder. ¡°Is there a reason not to be?¡± I take a step toward my son, and cup my palm to his neck and shoulder, giving him a singr squeeze. My eyes hold his, and my chest tightens because seeing him up close like this always reminds me of her¡ªduring the good times, the best parts. ¡°Avery is indeed your better half. Hell, after you get married, she¡¯ll be the best part of our little family.¡± He smirks. ¡°I think Uncle Ford would disagree with that.¡± I shake my head, because I didn¡¯t mean that. ¡°Not our entire family, I mean our family.¡± I motion between us. ¡°What¡¯s left of us without Mom,¡± I say, having not used that name to describe Margot in so long. Especially not aloud. ¡°It¡¯s just the three of us, until you two, you know,¡± I tell him, somehow lost in the weeds, unable to say the words have children. Sutton straightens some, as if the consideration of having kids has made him reframe my concern for Brandon. ¡°They¡¯re together in these homes all the time,¡± I remind him, then take my hand away. ¡°If he touches her hip in your office, while you¡¯re standing a mere three feet away, what would he touch if no one were there to see?¡± I feel sick at that thought, envisioning him touching her. My son¡¯s fianc¨¦e. The sweetest woman. And in my heart I believe the reason that my son is back in my life with meaning. ¡°And what¡¯s the reasoning for Chanel?¡± he counters, grabbing the door from behind me. I take a step out as we continue the conversation, the office around us in a quiet fog of clocking out haze. ¡°If you feel that she poses a threat to¡­¡± I trail off, suddenly unsure how to reframe this. Brandon goes because he wants to fuck Avery, that¡¯s clear and the one thing I¡¯m not outright saying. Chanel wants to fuck Sutton, but I¡¯ve always been a close second. And to be fair, I¡¯ve let her paw all over me for thest few years. She¡¯s beautiful, and I¡¯m not thatplicated of an individual. But if Sutton is calling for her to go, maybe she bothers Avery? I should have thought of that, shouldn¡¯t I? It¡¯s pretty obvious now that I look at it from a different perspective. ¡°Our family,¡± I continue, deciding those words fit best. ¡°Then she can go as well.¡± I shrug. ¡°Call it downsizing.¡± My son shakes his head. ¡°If he touched her,¡± he says, almost as if a switch has been flipped and he¡¯s only just now registering that a man he employs touched his fianc¨¦e. ¡°Harmless or not, colleagues in an office setting do not need to touch. A man should not touch a female colleague on the hip. Nor should it stand the other way around.¡± He rolls his lips together, nostrils ring as he res at the conference room, namely at the back of Brandon¡¯s head. ¡°If we fire him, I¡¯m going to fucking tell him why.¡± His eyes cut to mine, darkened with jealousy. ¡°He can¡¯t just touch my fianc¨¦e.¡± I shake my head. ¡°No, he can¡¯t.¡± My point exactly.
Crumpling my napkin, I toss it into the empty styrofoam mshell. ¡°I ate too much.¡± Sutton groans, tipping back in his chair as he tosses his napkin, too. ¡°You overindulge yourself.¡± I roll my eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m not a robot that wants to eat a square of salmon over rice every day. I have taste buds that require diversity. Not all of us can be as simple of a creature as you, son.¡± There¡¯s a knock on the door, and before he can tell the person toe in, Avery rushes in. She closes the door behind her then splits a worried, teary nce between us. Immediately, I get to my feet and hook my thumb over my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll go.¡± They clearly need to talk. Avery shakes her head, blonde hair curtaining her face as Sutton, who got to his feet when I did,es around his desk and to her side. ¡°You don¡¯t have to leave, Geo,¡± she says to me, head tipped down, sniffling quietly. The hair on the back of my neck stands up and my spine goes rigid. I don¡¯t like Avery being upset. I think part of me maybe dislikes it a tad more than I should, but maybe that¡¯s only because Sutton and I are still on the mend. I¡¯m holding a more protective stance of them both right now, I¡¯m sure. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, baby?¡± he asks, turning her body, allowing her to copse against him. He must¡¯ve suspected it, her silent foundering, her need to give herself over to him¨Cto let him be her strength. He must support her this way when she needs it. My entire body flushes with burning heat, and I feel inappropriately aroused by Avery¡¯s breakdown. The way her fingers climb his chest, searching for the beacon of his neck, so she can link her hands and let go emotionally, knowing his strong arms will be there to hold her up. This is a private moment, and yet I don¡¯t feel like a voyeur but more so, an alternate. I¡¯ve never held Avery that way. In thest month, the three of us have been eating dinner together a couple of times a week. While I¡¯m not her best friend, we¡¯ve gotten to know one another much more personally. The same goes for Sutton and myself. It¡¯s been good. And I do feel that if he weren¡¯t here, I could provide her the support. Something about that, the idea of holding her when she needs someone, that¡¯s what arouses me. As much as I hate myself for thinking of my son¡¯s future wife that way. Finally, she lifts her face from his chest, the tip of her nose pink. My heart does an out-of-sync flip flop at the sight of her ruddy cheeks and wetshes. ¡°Brandon quit! Out of nowhere. Now I need a new Operations and Logistics Manager, and the wedding is in two weeks! I don¡¯t have time to find someone!¡± I clear my throat. ¡°I will personally see to it that you find a new assistant. Stay focused on the wedding, and I will have you a new OLM by the end of the week, okay?¡± I nod my head, certain I can fulfill this and make good. I¡¯m connected to the absolute best recruiter¡ªa guy I went to college with. Avery blinks at me in a way that makes it hard to breathe for a moment. I look at my son. He looks down at Avery, taking her face in his hands, the gold of his watch glittering. ¡°Do you hear that? Dad is taking care of it. If he says he¡¯s going to, he will. Now please, do not cry. Seeing you cry is quite possibly the worst thing.¡± ¡°Worst ever,¡± I add, because it¡¯s true. Sutton nods at me and I join him, and Avery cracks a smile, swiping at her cheeks. She¡¯s only happy for a moment, and I don¡¯t like that. ¡°What?¡± Sutton asks, stroking the back of his knuckles along her cheek gently. He¡¯s a romantic, I should have known. I am, too. Or, I used to be. I wouldn¡¯t say I am anymore¨CI¡¯m much more primal now, because romance is for men who are in love, and I can¡¯t be a man in love ever again. It hurts too much when it goes awry. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why he¡¯d all of a sudden quit?¡± she says, shaking her head as Sutton moves his hand from her cheek to her hair, stroking his fingers through it. ¡°Sweetheart, don¡¯t worry about it.¡± He dips down, and kisses her cheek softly. I force my eyes to my feet for a moment. She nods her head and smiles, and he promises her we¡¯re almost done, and that in a few more minutes we¡¯ll be ready to go for the day. Tonight is one of the nights we¡¯re having dinner, the three of us. The car is taking us. She smiles at me gently, warming the space between my ribs in a way it should not, and then she closes the door behind her. I exhale guilt, knowingter when I lie awake in bed and revisit this, I¡¯ll chalk it up to her being beautiful and sweet. That¡¯s all. Hormonally, of course I¡¯m attracted to her. The longer I spend time with them, the more that will fall away. The more she¡¯ll be my asexual daughter-inw, a non-sexual appendage of my son. I wish we¡¯d hit that phase soon. My mind can run away with itself after a long dinner with Sutton and Avery. I face my son, and he says ¨C ¡°I n on telling her. Later. After the wedding.¡± I arch a brow in curiosity. ¡°That I fired Brandon. Today.¡± He sighs. ¡°I told him he could tell her that he quit if he wanted, but I fired him today, and told him exactly why.¡± Now both of my brows are raised. ¡°Why did you wait nearly a month?¡± He walks to his desk and retrieves a file from the middle drawer. ¡°I wanted to pull contenders to rece him, so she wouldn¡¯t be in a pickle.¡± I shake my head. ¡°That was thoughtful.¡± He sits down in his chair. ¡°After I really thought about everything you said, I wanted him gone. But at the same time, I didn¡¯t want it to hurt Avery.¡± I nod, feeling a little tug of jealousy in my gut, wishing that I had someone to do bold and noble things for. Just because I am no longer a man in love doesn¡¯t mean that I don¡¯t asionally miss some of the perks. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m going to tell her after the wedding, and I¡¯ll tell her why.¡± Pride washes away my jealousy. ¡°That¡¯s good. You don¡¯t want to mess it up with a woman like Avery.¡± He shakes his head. ¡°No. I wouldn¡¯t recover.¡± Father Knows Best: Chapter 14 The Hope ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re okay to drive?¡± I ask Amelie as she tucks the strap of her sandals in, belting it down. She does the same to the other, then wiggles her toes. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I can drive, but the truth is, I may pull over halfway to take them off,¡± she says, sliding her purse over her arm. We both admire the strappy sandals. She flips her hair over the shoulder. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m off. Commercial audition a littleter and I want to go home and change so the director doesn¡¯t think I¡¯m drunk.¡± ¡°Probably a good idea,¡± I tell her, extending my hand to help her down the back steps. ¡°Wait,¡± I p my forehead with my palm, then scurry inside, returning a momentter with the entire reason for the visit. ¡°Your bridesmaid dress.¡± Since I only have one bridesmaid and she¡¯s a struggling actress, I paid for her dress. And also, brides should pay for bridesmaid dresses¡ªit¡¯s only fair. Amelie tucks the bag under her arm and toddles to her car, waving me off as she backs up then disappears up the street. I¡¯m about to close the door when Sutton¡¯s car pulls in, and he ducks inside, shing me a handsome, happy, end-of-day grin. He parks in the garage, and I meet him inside, slipping my hands into his suit pockets and he holds my face in his hands, kissing the tip of my nose before finding my lips. ¡°She picking up her dress?¡± he asks, earning a nod from me. ¡°I met her here after the staging,¡± I reply, letting Sutton spin me, his handsing to rest on my hips. He guides me to the kitchen where I squeal when he surprises me by lifting me up, plunking me down on the counter top. He pushes my knees apart toe stand between my spread thighs, and thebination of moves has my pulse racing and my clit thrumming. ¡°I missed you today,¡± he says, collecting my hair in his hand, giving it a tug to expose my throat. He kisses me there gently, contrasting the pull of his hand as he guides my head further to the side, giving himself more skin to kiss. His lips drag over my flesh, pressing kisses everywhere until he¡¯s under my chin, and then back at my mouth. I feed my fingers through his silky hair, loving the way the ends curl toward his cor after a long day. ¡°We worked together today,¡± I remind him, sliding my tongue against his as he kisses me again. He¡¯s never put me on the counter, never ravaged my throat in the kitchen before having adequate time to wind down post-work day. This fire, this new passion and fervor¡ªit excites me. Our eyes lock as his handse to my hips, thumbs tucked under the hem of my ck skirt. I¡¯m still wearing my pencil skirt and sleeveless crepe blouse that I wore to work¨CI was partially in office, partially staging today, so I went with myfiest pencil skirt and most breathable blouse and tossed my sneakers in the car. I switched back to heels on my drive. Sutton¡¯s hands trail my calf beforeing to the shiny ck pump on my foot. He removes it, letting it fall to the floor before lifting my foot and pressing his lips to the top. My stomach clenches at the sight of Sutton in a suit, holding my bare leg, carving a hot trail with his mouth toward my core. Oh my God. What if he goes down on me right here in the kitchen with the lights on and dinner in the oven? That would be so hot¡ªthe idea of it has my toes curling, which causes my other heel to fall off, plunking loudly on the granite. He lifts his mouth from my knee and returns his hands to my skirt. That is so hot¡ªseeing Sutton want me so much is so erotic. My eyes fall to the crotch of his cks where his erection tents,rge and impossible to ignore. My mouth waters as he kisses me, pulling back to whisper, ¡°Can I have you here?¡± I nod, suddenly frantic by the idea that Sutton needs me so bad that he wants me on the kitchen counter, yet he still asked for permission. With my skirt around my hips, he unzips, fishing himself out through the fly of his cks. His shaft always makes my insides flutter¨Che¡¯s long, with burly veins running down the top and underside, giving way to a perfectly shaped cockhead, made slick with precum, pinkened by arousal. He strokes himself¡ªmy kryptonite¡ªand braces himself on the countertop, work papers and wedding ns scattered around us like confetti. I grip the counter¡¯s edges, and his groan echoes off the cabs and windows as he sinks inside. Moving his hips, he makes love to me in quick, unperfected strokes, as if he¡¯s lost all ability to be in control. I love it. I love when he¡¯s haphazard with his affection, wild and carnal. My toes curl again, only this time, it¡¯s from the feel of him seated all the way inside me, nudging every warm spot that makes me feel like I¡¯m going to explode. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± he croons softly, pulling all the way out, leaving me cold and hollow for a handful of seconds before sliding back in, holding himself there, deeply. ¡°Unraveling, aren¡¯t you?¡± he asks, the heat of his groin, the scratch of his pubic hair against mine, his heart beating chaotically against me¨Cit¡¯s too much. I nod my head. ¡°I¡¯m close.¡± A smirk dusts his lips as he reaches between us, bracing himself on one arm on the kitchen ind. My eyes roll closed when his thumb slides over my clit, humming and sticky, begging for his attention, but I reach down and grab him by the wrist. His brows pull together, confusion evident. He always makes mee using his hands first. But right now, his passion is so enthralling, I cane without it. Many times. I know I can. ¡°Keep going, just¡­ keep going, please,¡± I breathe, a bead of sweat traversing his temple, dropping down to my cheek. He¡¯s still fully clothed, and so am I, and when I look down at the thick trunk of his cock, the rest of him buried inside me, our clothing still on, oven running, daylight shining, TV softly ying in the other room, Ie violently. It¡¯s so out of his character. It¡¯s so exciting and passionate. I cannot wait for more of this side of Sutton. ¡°Whoa,¡± he groans, starting to move his hips in slow, deep circles, fucking me through my first unraveling as his jaw tightens, restraint evident in his dark eyes. ¡°Baby, you¡¯reing so hard,¡± he says through soft hushes and slow,zy strokes. When my eyes are open again, and I can reasonably manage speech, I lick my lips and say, ¡°I need to feel you. Please, Sutton, keep going.¡± ¡°Hmm,¡± is thest audible noise he makes before pulling out and mming into me again and again, his thrusts sloppy, his cock steely, a look of pure satisfaction twisted up on his features. My lower half hums, the sensations all too much, and I p at his chest as my second orgasm takes hold, making my walls clench and tighten all around him. He stills, his eyes mming shut as his cock throbs inside of me, filling me in waves with his cum. ¡°Avery,¡± he groans, my name never sounding more beautiful than when he moans it as he orgasms. ¡°I want to get you pregnant so badly,¡± he says, his new favorite thing to say since I went off of my birth controlst month. He thrusts again, and I clench all around him, loving when he talks about breeding me when he¡¯s fucking me. Iy my head back against the counter and blink up at the recessed lights, trying for a minute to catch my breath as Sutton slides out of me. He returns, pressing a wad of damp paper towels to my pussy as he helps me sit up, covering my head so it doesn¡¯t bonk the bar lights as I do. ¡°That was¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he says, scooping my hand off the counter to pepper it with kisses. ¡°I just missed you this afternoon and you looked so gorgeous in your skirt and heels, and¨C¡± he shakes his head, as if adoring me is no excuse. ¡°Our bedroom is where that should happen, and I apologize.¡± I grab his tie and yank his mouth back to mine, kissing him. ¡°I¡¯m not sorry. That was really hot, Sutton.¡± Another kiss, this time slow and methodical, my tongue tangling with his in an effort to silently beg for more wild Sutton. To tell him that I like spontaneously horny Sutton. ¡°Thank you.¡± He smiles, and helps me off the counter. ¡°I don¡¯t want my child conceived on the counter, so I apologize.¡± Another smile. ¡°Go get changed and I¡¯ll get started on dinner.¡±
Two weeks. In two weeks I will be Avery Mercer. I stick out my hand and look at my ring for the millionth time. I think of my parents, who live in Southern California, and adopted the ¡°once you¡¯re eighteen, we¡¯re done¡± motto of parenting. I wasn¡¯t ready to leave their house when I turned eighteen, but they were ready to not have a child at home, and they turned me out. I slept at a friend¡¯s house for the first month, until I found affordable rent¡ªin the city. I moved here six months after high school graduation, and I¡¯ve only seen them a few times since. We¡¯re on speaking terms, but I don¡¯t feel a great need to be close to them. I don¡¯t identify with their parenting style, and when I have my own children, I would never turn one out at age eighteen, simply for being a legal adult. Sutton is aware of the way I feel about my parents, and one of the few times I¡¯ve seen them in thest few years is when we drove down to visit them¡ªso I could introduce them to my boyfriend. They were nice. It was cordial. The visit was fine. Knowing that Sutton and Geo have worked things out brings me so much happiness. Sutton asked me if repairing things with Geo was important to me because my family isn¡¯t near, and we aren¡¯t close, and I considered it. But truthfully, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s why. I worked with Geo a lot. I¡¯ve obviously worked with Sutt a ton, too. And I saw simrities. Things about them that made me think of the other, and thought to myself, geez, if they ever did manage to work through the past, they¡¯d get along so well. I never stuck my nose in, not until Geo approached me. His vulnerability took my breath away and when it came down to it, Geo only cared about doing what was right for Sutton all these years, even now, all along. It was hard to hold any ill will toward him after that day, and once they talked and worked through things, our lives havepletely changed. They¡¯re rebuilding. It¡¯s not perfect. They aren¡¯t instantly ying golf every weekend. I don¡¯t call him dad. But it¡¯s better. So much better, and building toward something even better. It¡¯s why I don¡¯t ever sweat not being close with my parents. I think sometimes that the universe showed me cheap rent in the city so I coulde here and meet the Mercers. Because now that Sutt and Geo are making amends, Geo and I are growing closer, too. The bathroom door opens, and steam fills the room for a moment before dissipating, leaving just the sight of Sutton, cks open and slung low around his hips revealing his Adonis belt, muscled core and strong chest. He¡¯s going to go downstairs and get a ss of water¡ªhe does this before every hot shower. But the outline of his soft cock in his cks and the feel of his cum still inside me from a few hours ago makes me reckless and I toss back the nket draped over my legs, and slip out of bed, dropping to my knees. The movement catches his attention and hees to me, extending a hand. ¡°Drop your earring?¡± I tug on his boxers and his open pants. ¡°I want you, before your shower, I want you again.¡± I slip one hand into his boxers but he stops me, and pulls me up to my feet with ease. When I blink up at him, his brows are weighted by confusion, the slight stubble covering his chin after a long day at work not helping the pulsing in my clit. ¡°You want.. What?¡± he asks, and I answer by giving his pants a tug, adding, ¡°You. In my mouth. I want you to finish in my mouth.¡± His eyes search mine. ¡°Avery, we made love earlier.¡± This is his way of saying that my pussy is still smeared all over him, and that if I put him in my mouth now, I¡¯ll taste myself, I¡¯ll taste the love we made, all of it. ¡°I know,¡± I reply, my heart racing, the unspoken sentiment that I want to taste myself and us lingers between us, and each moment that passes where he doesn¡¯t say anything makes me exponentially more nervous. The momentary tension splits when Sutton smiles, then presses a soft kiss to my lips. ¡°I¡¯ll shower first, okay?¡± He nods to the open door, where the water is running in the distance. I nod, and try not to be disappointed that he said no. Sex on the counter was hot. Expecting more out-of-routine behavior from Sutton in one day would be asking too much, pushing too far. ¡°Sure,¡± I smile, my cheeks ring, embarrassment of rejection hitting me. But as he pulls the door closed and I reach into my panties, finding myself ready for him again, I realize that it¡¯s not just being rejected that hurts. It¡¯s mustering courage to show him that I want more, that I¡¯m hungrier than he realizes, thirstier than he¡¯s aware¡ªonly to be curbed, told to pace myself, to wait. It¡¯s okay, that¡¯s what I tell myself as I bring myself to orgasm while Sutton showers. It¡¯s okay if he¡¯s less adventurous, wants sex less than I do. Maybe over time, he¡¯ll want more. A few minutes pass before Suttones out of the bathroom, nothing but a towel slung around his waist. His veined hand disappears into his hair as he treads toward me, twisting the bedsidemp off with a click. I wish he took the towel off before he turned the light out, and nothing will ever change that. I love Sutton, but his modesty turns me into a puddle, I swear. He slips under the covers, and my eyes struggle to adjust to the new darkness as he grabs my face, pulling me into a kiss. Our tongues slide together, and his soft moans and partial erection inme my lower half. I shimmy down the length of him, positioning myself between his thighs, the nkets bunched at my feet so he can watch. He rarely watches. I mean, he does watch. But not the whole time. Most of the time, his eyes are closed, and I¡¯m d he enjoys himself. I¡¯d be lying if I said I hadn¡¯t gotten myself off to the fantasy of Sutton holding my eyes as hees into my mouth and down my throat. I¡¯ve had one of my most intense orgasms fantasizing about his thumb on my throat, groaning aloud as he feels me swallow his cum. So hot. I slide his cock onto my tongue, giving his balls a gentle tug as I take him down my throat. Sutton¡¯s handes to my cheek, his thumb resting beneath my bottom lip. Tenderly, he holds my face as I suck him, and as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I blink up, over the terrain of his godlike torso, and find his eyes. He stares down at me, his thumb tugging slightly as I bob on his erection, hot and steely in the tight channel of my throat. ¡°You¡¯re so beautiful, Avery,¡± he whispers, the praise throwing a cramp of desire in my belly, making me squirm a little between his legs. His words urge me to take him deeper, my eyes burning as his head nudges the soft spot at the back of my throat. With the tip of my tongue, I trace his crown, my clit pulsing when his eyes flutter closed, his grip tightening on my face as he groans. Sutton rarely makes noises when I go down on him, but I live for each grunt and groan he does make. I bob on his shaft again, this time using my hand to gently stroke him at the base, the part of him I struggle to fit in my throat. I suck and twist, and he groans, the virile, cavernous noise of it arousing me even more. He slides his hand to the top of my head,zily pushing wisps of blonde hair away from my face, blinking down at me in the moonlight. ¡°Av, I¡¯m close,¡± he warns, because Sutton does not like orgasming in my mouth. He, in the past, has said it¡¯s unnecessary. The one time he did it was so absolutely and utterly hot that I orgasmed just from the taste of him. And there was so much. And it was the best consistency, too. But the idea of asking for that again after so many other rejections is just too nerve-wracking, even though it shouldn¡¯t be. I want to be Sutton¡¯s slut. The thing is, he doesn¡¯t want a slut, and I¡¯m trying to be okay with that. Pumping his shaft, I take his cock out of my mouth with a pop, and align his dark, peeking slit with my mouth, readying myself. Sutton¡¯s eyes, which closed a moment ago, pop open, and his abs knot as he attempts to raise up to his elbows in the bed. ¡°Let me,¡± I breathe, my heart racing so fast as my hands work him in skilled pumps. ¡°Oh, oh my God,¡± he sighs, sinking back into the pillows as I cup my mouth to his head, catching his cum as he orgasms, his entire body a twitching, moaning mess. It happens right then, as I¡¯m sucking him down, feeling his cum stter my throat and coat my tongue, knowing how rare this gift is, how infrequent I get to receive it¡ªmy pussy clenches and spasms, orgasming without a single touch just at the erotic and heated feel of Sutton letting me taste and swallow his orgasm. Afraid he¡¯ll ask me to spit, I swallow it all as he gives it to me, and when thest of him is spent, I lick his shaft clean. I climb up into bed, clinging to his chest, my body humming from the way he pants, struggling to catch his breath. ¡°Avery¨Cyou know I don¡¯t expect you to do that, right? To¡­ swallow.¡± For more chapters visit f?ndnovel The word is quieter than the others, as if even discussing it brings Sutton some difort. I don¡¯t want to push him¨Che¡¯s given me so much today. I nod my head and kiss his cheek. ¡°I wanted to. I always want to. I want as much of you as you¡¯ll give me, Sutt.¡± He kisses me, but stands up long enough to pull on his boxers, and a t-shirt before the faint light of TV takes us into sleep. Father Knows Best: Chapter 15 The Rehearsal I slide an arm into the cool fabric, and behind me, Alex helps get my other arm into the tuxedo jacket. He smooths his hands down the arms before plucking lint off the fabric, eyeing me in the mirror¡¯s reflection. ¡°Are you happy with it?¡± He pulls thest pin from my shoulder. ¡°We did a fitted tux, not a traditional fit, like you asked.¡± He steps back, surveying me. ¡°That¡¯s one hell of a tuxedo,¡± my father says, the curtain to his dressing room whooshing as he steps out in his own pressed tux. We had our final fittings three weeks ago, and today we¡¯re picking them up, pressed and ready for tomorrow. ¡°I like it, too,¡± I say aloud, studying the satin on thepels, and the matching satin piping down the pants. ¡°Satin, not grosgrain?¡± I ask, running my thumb over the soft fabric. ¡°Satin,¡± the tailor answers, as my fatheres to my side. We stand in front of the mirror, my two inches on his height looking negligible in these tuxes and in this light. Eyeing me in the reflection, my father outstretches his hand, and I sink mine into his, shaking it. ¡°Congrattions on tomorrow. You know I adore Avery, and the two of you are going to have a full, happy life together.¡± His eyes hold mine, shining with emotion. ¡°Thank you for allowing me into your lives.¡± I¡¯m struck by a blob of emotion in my throat, but manage to speak around it. ¡°I¡¯m sorry we had so manyplicated years.¡± He bobs his head. ¡°Me, too.¡± The tailor edges me out of the suit jacket, slipping a velvet lined hanger in the coat. I get to work unbuttoning the mother of pearl buttons on the pressed shirt, and my father does the same. ¡°Remind me, what time is the rehearsal dinner tonight?¡± he asks, nudging his dress shoes off his feet, one at a time. He pulls his dress shirt on over his white t-shirt, and shoves the tails of his shirt into his cks. ¡°Eight, at the venue.¡± I step out of my pants, and pass them to the tailor, who gives me back my cks. My father sits down, digging out his phone, paying no attention to me as I redress. ¡°You know, she really enjoys spending time with you, and I wanted to thank you for that. Because she¡¯s not close with her parents and I think being able to lean on you in thest few weeks has been really important to her.¡± My father bobs his head, looking at his phone screen. ¡°I¡¯m d to be here for her, in any capacity that fits,¡± he says slowly, cautiously choosing his words in an effort to not overstep his boundaries, I¡¯m sure. ¡°Are you bringing a date to the rehearsal?¡± I ask as I toe into my dress shoes, sitting down on the tailor¡¯s bench next to my father to tie them. When he doesn¡¯t immediately answer, I look his way, and find his eyes set on me. ¡°A date to your wedding? No. Absolutely not. It¡¯s the most important day of your life, until you be a father, and I don¡¯t want someone meaningless on my arm. I¡¯d rather be without a date.¡± It surprises me to hear how meaningful my big day is to him, and while we¡¯re making great strides toward a healthier, more honest rtionship, moments like this prove to me hismitment. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind, you know, if you wanted to have a date there, though,¡± I tell him, adjusting my socks before the tailor passes me my suspenders. I clip them to my pants, and drag the straps over my arms, then adjust my tie. My father watches me, expressionless, and when I¡¯m dressed he says, ¡°You¡¯ve despised every woman I¡¯ve ever dated or even brought to a Mercer mixer.¡± I lift a shoulder and smirk. ¡°Yeah, well, that¡¯s when I thought you were a cheating asshole.¡± I make light of the situation often, and so does he, and I think that partially has helped us move on. ¡°Now you¡¯re just my old, rich, bachelor dad.¡± He cocks an eyebrow. ¡°You called me old but you also called me Dad, so I¡¯ll let it go.¡± His smile is soft and I tell him I love him, indirectly, because the eve of your wedding is the time. ¡°I¡¯m d we¡¯re more than people sharing an office space. I¡¯m d you¡¯re here. And I¡¯m honored to have you stand up there with me tomorrow.¡± We share a hug, then leave, heading to a Mercer Property business meeting together, for the first time, harmoniously.
I hadn¡¯t given the rehearsal much thought. In fact, I gave it zero thought. We¡¯d scheduled for the officiant, my father, Amelie, Uncle Ford, Cade, Kat and Roberta to be there with us, and I thought it would be a dry run simply to make sure everyone knows when to walk and where to stand. My dad, uncle and Cade and I met everyone else there since Roberta, Kat and Avery were working on something together off-site. A dry run so we don¡¯t stumble tomorrow, that¡¯s what I thought it would be. I had no idea I¡¯d be some tongue-tangled, bleary eyed mess when Iid eyes on hering down the aisle. And today, too. Today it means nothing. Tomorrow is the wedding. Still, as she rounds the corner from outside to in, stepping onto the Saltillo tiles, her feet bare, toenails white¨Cmy heart nearly stops, I swear to Christ it does. Then she¡¯s standing there, holding my cousin Cade¡¯s arm in ce of her father, her long blonde hair spilling down her chest, over her breasts, the honey strands wild, not unlike the waves in the cold Pacific just outside these doors,pping at the shore. Wearing an off-the-shoulder cream colored gown, it clings to her stiffened nipples and her hips, showing off the svelte shape of her body. She finds me standing next to the officiant, and her eyes lift on the edges, adoration and happiness encircling her aura. My heart thumps heavily, making me a little woozy for a moment as I blink back unexpected tears. She¡¯s so effortlessly perfect for me. Avery has, in one year, brought me everything¨Chappiness,ughter, adoration, desire. Before Avery, my life looked good on paper, but now, I have a life worth living, off the page. Kat jumps out into the aisle, asking her something about the music for tomorrow¨Ctiming? I¡¯m not sure, I can¡¯t quite hear. I adjust the way my hands are stacked, held at my groin in patience like every groom in the world. A momentter, soft music restarts and my cousin, who I¡¯ve kneed in the nuts and gone toilet papering with before we even liked girls, walks Avery in, wearing a smirk. ¡°Here you go,¡± he says, handing Avery¡¯s hand to me as if she were a grocery item on a belt. I pat his chest. ¡°Thank you, Cade.¡± Avery blinks up at me. ¡°You look so handsome up here,¡± she whispers, her sweet voice nearly doing me in. ¡°You take my breath away,¡± I admit. ¡°You always do.¡± I still remember choosing the Golden Gate Club at the Presidio. It was thest venue we toured, and Avery was wearing this lc colored linen dress. We stood with our toes in the sand, looking back up at the club house, white chairs aligned in perfect rows on the manicuredwn. The bay air rolled in off the water, stinging our cheeks, leaving a chill in our bones. I shrugged out of my suit jacket and wrapped Avery in it, pulling her against me. ¡°What do you think?¡± I asked her, and she smiled, saying, ¡°This is where I am going to be Mrs. Sutton Mercer.¡± We get through the rehearsal then head inside where the club is hosting a dinner for us. The first ss of wine takes the emotional edge off, which is needed since I will be giving a toast in a few hours.
¡°Nice toast,¡± my father says, reaching over the ying cards to grab the bottle of whiskey. He refills my ss. ¡°Last one. As your kind of best man, I can¡¯t let you be hungover tomorrow.¡± Cade snatches the bottle from my dad and pours himself a few fingers. ¡°You want the title of best man? Have it.¡± He takes a sip and winces. ¡°I¡¯m not in the love mood anyway.¡± I snort. ¡°You¡¯re not the one getting married. You¡¯re just standing in a suit for a few photos. You don¡¯t need to be in the love mood.¡± Kat drapes her arm around her brother, dropping her head against his shoulder. ¡°Cade¡¯s still bent out of shape about one of his favorite sses transitioning from the lecture hall to online.¡± He peels his sister¡¯s arm off and tosses it back her way. They have a good rtionship, but Cade is, well, kind of an uptight asshole. Not unlike myself. ¡°That already happened.¡± She pats his shoulder while looking our way. ¡°So he¡¯s big mad about something else now.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t just tell him he¡¯s the best man,¡± I say, the two sses of wine and two whiskeys starting to force my words into one another. ¡°I said you were both going to stand up with me.¡± My father lifts his ss, eyeing me over the rim. ¡°That was worded by design so you wouldn¡¯t have to put yourself out there and ask me,¡± he says, calling me out on exactly why I didn¡¯t ask him to be my best man. Kat sips her whiskey, holding her ss to her chest, chipped ck nail polish making her brother wince. ¡°That sounds like a total Sade move.¡± I finish my drink and notice my father refilling it with water. ¡°Sade?¡± Kat smirks into her drink. ¡°You and Cade are like, almost the same person, so behind your back, me and my dad and Roberta call you guys Sade. The amalgamation of two uptight guys who wear dress socks and sip espresso shots.¡± ???s ??????? ?s ?????? ?? find[?]ovel Cade blinks. ¡°Just because it¡¯s a shot doesn¡¯t mean you have to shoot it like a heathen, Katherine.¡± Uncle Fordughs, tossing his head back, the ink on his neck moving with his Adam¡¯s apple. ¡°You sound like her father, not her brother.¡± Kat ms her empty ss down on the table. ¡°Let¡¯s not get caught in the weeds. The whole point I was getting to was just that, it¡¯s nice for the rest of us, that¡¯s all. You know, you two getting along now.¡± The room falls quiet and I meet my father¡¯s eyes over the cards and empty sses on the table. He smiles, and my chest warms. ¡°Yeah, well, we hold the record for longest mimunication.¡± Kat bats her eyes. ¡°My favorite trope.¡±
The violinist hired for tomorrow¡¯s ceremony came tonight, and while I hadn¡¯t nned on dancing at all, I was happy to share a dance with Kat and then Roberta so that Avery could dance. Now, as the violinist performs herst song¨CLa Capricieuse Op. 17, as requested for tomorrow for our first dance¨CI sit in a small crowd of family and watch Avery and my father dance together. Their hands are sped together, his hand syed across her lower back, hers between his shoulder des. He says something, and she tips her forehead against his chest inughter, as he lets his head fall back, alsoughing. I smile, watching as she lifts her head, blonde hair messy as herughter continues. My dad pushes hair off her face and shakes his head, and she erupts in moreughter. I don¡¯t know what he¡¯s saying or what they¡¯re talking about, but everything in my chest is suddenly alive and warm, and¨C ¡°Hey, don¡¯t be that guy,¡± Cade says, walking past me, pointing to my crotch. ¡°See you tomorrow.¡± I look down and find¨C ¡°fuck,¡± I grumble, tugging my suit coat off the back of my chair, draping it over myp. I look back up at where Avery and my father were dancing, and find them headed my way. ¡°Onest drink at the bar before we say goodnight?¡± she asks, blinking her long, seductiveshes at me. I agree, and we move to the small bar in the corner of the space. After a final round, we say goodnight, and go our separate ways. Avery went up right after the drink, eager to get to sleep since she has a full salon appointment in the morning for hair and makeup and I don¡¯t know what else. I say thank you and goodbye to as much of the staff as I can, then make the journey to my suite. Standing at the bank of elevators, I knock the button with my knuckle, and it turns orange. My fatheres to stand by my side. ¡°Did you hit the button?¡± he asks, waving goodbye to a woman he¡¯d spoken with at the bar earlier. I nod toward her as she leaves. ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± He didn¡¯t bring a date, but they say old habits die hard. He smiles, extending me his hand, which has a business card inside. AMANDA HOLLIS, Entrepreneur. I nearly roll my eyes at the title, because everyone ims to be an entrepreneur. ¡°She¡¯s looking for a property to bring her online business to scale.¡± He smiles, hitting the elevator button again. ¡°You judged her. You¡¯re judgemental.¡± ¡°Obviously I already hit the button,¡± I say, then add, ¡°and actually, I judged you, not her.¡± His smile slips away. ¡°You thought I was going to take her back to my suite?¡± I shrug. ¡°Maybe. I mean, if you did or do¨Cyou don¡¯t have to worry about anything. I know differently now,¡± I say, wanting that to be the only time that we reference my deceased mother for the entire weekend. He doesn¡¯t say much, but gets onto the elevator with me when the doors open. ¡°Nightcap?¡± he asks and since I¡¯m still so wired from the excitement, I nod. ¡°Sure.¡±
Once in my room, we bypass the logical ces to sit¨Clike the dining or breakfast room tables, the desk, or even the patio on our deck. Instead, I sit at the foot of my bed and he sits next to me. I pass him a stic mini-bottle of Jameson, and in unison, we twist the lids off and toss them back. My belly burns and my veins buzz, but I¡¯m happy, so I tell him. ¡°I¡¯m so ready for tomorrow.¡± He makes a noise with his mouth closed, one of agreement or appreciation, I¡¯m not sure. ¡°I bet. I remember that feeling. Ready to leap into forever.¡± I bob my head. ¡°I really am.¡± Something urs to me then, a buzzing, burning, suddenly nagging question, despite the fact that I don¡¯t want to talk about my mother. I do, however, want to know where his head and heart are at now. The idea of marrying Avery tomorrow without knowing something so basic seems strange, and maybe that¡¯s the whiskey, or the emotion of the night, or all of those things. ¡°Can I ask you a question?¡± He turns on the bed, angling one knee to face me as he strokes his hand down his silver beard. ¡°Shoot.¡± ¡°You said that you¡¯d do it over again, you¡¯d choose Mom over and over, everytime.¡± The bellhop outside the room knocks on a door, and there¡¯s mumbling. I watch my father watching me, and I can¡¯t tell if he¡¯s deciding to tell the truth or to lie. ¡°Did you not believe me when I said it before?¡± he asks slowly, unsure. I think about the things he said. The drinking. The tant cheating. The carelessness and disrespect. ¡°I just¡­I guess, I want to know how you really feel about everything that happened, and not in a sense where you¡¯re being considerate of me or the fact that she was my mother. I just want to know the truth¡ªwould you do it again, did you love her so much that you¡¯d really do it all again?¡± He doesn¡¯t even waste a moment. ¡°Yes.¡± He reaches into his pocket and passes me a small blue box. It¡¯s my wedding band. He picked it up for me yesterday. cing the box in my hand he says, ¡°and you have that with Avery, too.¡± Getting to his feet, he outstretches his hand, and I shake it. ¡°Goodnight son. Get some sleep, big day tomorrow.¡± Father Knows Best: Chapter 16 The Wedding I¡¯ve always avoided weddings like the gue. And I don¡¯t think it¡¯s all thatplicated to understand why¨Cthey¡¯re fucking depressing. As a man who lost the love of his life to many different kinds of addictions long before I actually lost her, and as a perpetual bachelor since, they force me to turn the microscope inward. And who the fuck wants to do that? But my son¡¯s wedding is going to be different. I hoped it would. I woke without an ounce of dread in my gut. Avery and Sutton had separate suites, in ssic wedding tradition, so he, Cade, Ford and myself went for a run this morning, then hit the weights. Cade and Sutton went down to the water for a swim, and now, with lunch just delivered to the patio of my suite, my brother and I rx before it¡¯s time to get ready. Only now, I¡¯m anxious and edgy, seeking a drink way too early in the day. Ford takes a cherry from the te of fruit, and pinches it between his teeth, plucking the stem away. ¡°It¡¯s gotta feel good to have no doubts about this,¡± he says to me, mulling the fruit around from cheek to cheek before he spits out the pit. ¡°About Avery and Sutton, you mean?¡± He nods, grabbing his cup from the saucer. ¡°Milk,¡± he says, and I reach for the small carafe of milk, and add some to his cup. Ford sips his coffee. ¡°Yeah, I mean, they¡¯re perfect together. She brought him out of his shell a little, I mean, as much as he¡¯lle out, and he¡¯s happy. She¡¯s loyal. What more can you ask for?¡± I shrug. ¡°Nothing I guess.¡± He kicks my bare foot with his slippered one. ¡°So why are you all silent and stoic?¡± Another shrug. ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± Fordughs, taking another sip of his coffee. ¡°Who do I look like? Sutton? You can¡¯t lie to me. Tell me what¡¯s on your mind, brother.¡± Lifting a piece of pineapple off of the te, I take a bite and watch as the water rushes to the shore, white and foamy, seagull swooping down, kissing the surface, tearing away again. Sutton flops down onto a beach towel next to Cade, who is sitting in a small chair, reading a book. ¡°I adore Avery. And Sutt has surprised me. He¡¯s really letting me in, and we¡¯re really repairing the damage of my lies.¡± Ford, whose blue eyes look icy against his tanned skin, covered in ck ink, just shakes his head. ¡°So?¡± He prods, knowing there¡¯s more. I let out a long, heavy sigh. ¡°I should be able to see my son marry the love of his life without thinking about mine and how she won¡¯t be here to see her son get married.¡± Ford is quiet, and if he were anyone but my brother, I wouldn¡¯t share these feelings with him, knowing what he¡¯s been through. Like me, my brother met his soulmate, the love of his life, his utter fucking world when he was in his early twenties. And like me, he was left to be a single father to his children when his wife died unexpectedly. Ford¡¯s wife had cancer, and he took care of her until her veryst breath, and he¡¯s not been with a woman since. Though the truth is, I¡¯m the only one who knows thatst part. He takes plenty home, but never seals the deal. He looks at me, a crooked, sad smile lifting the edge of his lips. ¡°I think you¡¯re always going to think of her during big times. I know I think of Katie every time Kat calls and says she made another deal, or when Cade gets some achievement at the university¨Chell, when I open a new bar, I wonder what Katie would wear if she were here, what she¡¯d think and how she¡¯d greet the crowd. I think about Katie all the time, still, all these yearster.¡± I let out a long sigh, Margot¡¯s wide eyes and vibrant smile echoing painfully through my mind. ¡°It feels like being in prison, doesn¡¯t it? Being here still, remembering them so much, but they¡¯re gone.¡± My brother volleys his head. ¡°I used to think it was torture, having to be here for the kids and live in this pain. But you know, we¡¯ve gotten good at managing the pain and the rush of memories when they hit, haven¡¯t we? I nod. We have. The mention of her used to bring me to tears, and now I can fully discuss her and what happened without even a mist. ¡°It feels like we haven¡¯t made progress because we¡¯re unmarried, but think about where we were then, and where we are now. You¡¯re not in prison, you just haven¡¯t loved again.¡± He takes thest piece of pineapple and dips it into the bowl of yogurt on the porcin te, tossing it back. Chewing around the fresh fruit he says, ¡°When we were kids, did you ever think we¡¯d be fifty-year old men eating fruit in bathrobes while watching our grown sons on the beach while discussing love?¡± I sip my coffee. ¡°The only part of my life I urately predicted is wealth.¡± We watch the water in silence a few minutes before Ford speaks again, his voice a bit soft and fond when he says, ¡°That¡¯s not true. We always knew we¡¯d raise good ones. And we did that, too.¡± He pops the champagne, and we silently toast to raising good people amidst shattered hearts. When we clink our sses, Ford says, ¡°To Sutton and Avery.¡± ¡°To Sutton and Avery.¡±
Amidst the serene embrace of towering eucalyptus trees and lush ferns, the altar waits, glowing from the Edison lights strung loosely above. Beneath the charming wooden arch, adorned with vibrant blooms of pink, orange, and red, stands Sutton, talking quietly with his cousin, while on the cusp of promising his life to Avery. The already gorgeous space screams Avery, each touch more beautiful than thest. The aisle, lined with delicate flower petals in hues of crimson and coral, leads the way to the altar, where rows of wooden chairs, each graced with soft white bouquets, await the vows. The gentle rustle of eucalyptus leaves and the distant murmur of the sea weave a tender melody, encouraging my body to rx as I wait. The music starts, and my brother sends me a nod from his ce smashed into the tiny wooden chair. Moving down the aisle, I smile at Avery¡¯s mother and a few other guests beforeing to stand next to my son. I¡¯d nned on standing on the other side of Cade, but as I approached, Sutton nudged Cade aside, and my heart nearly burst at the gesture. I send him an assuring wink, and then the music changes, and my heart never gets a chance to regte before Mr. Bet appears, Avery on his arm. ¡°Fuck,¡± my son mutters. He doesn¡¯t really curse, and I always assumed it¡¯s because I do but thest few months have shown me that he doesn¡¯t curse and it¡¯s got nothing to do with me. It¡¯s who he is. Pinning my gaze to his profile, I watch his eyes soften and grow damp as Mr. Bet passes his daughter to my son. They shake hands, and Mr. Bet asks my son to promise he¡¯ll always do right by his girl, which earns a healthy promise and a hug from Sutton. And then, he lets himself really look at her. He takes her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing the tops of her knuckles as he says, ¡°You make it hard to breathe, you¡¯re so insanely gorgeous.¡± Her cheeks flush, and my stomach flips upside down, sending a flush of arousal and nerves through my core. Sutton isn¡¯t wrong. Avery is breathtaking. The most beautiful bride I think I¡¯ve everid eyes on. Her gown is simple¡ªtrumpet fit made ofce, with a chapel length train, the bodice clinging to her slight curves, the open back and button detail entuating the delicate slope of her spine. I knew Avery would be a ssic bride, and as she recites her lifelong promises to Sutton, her lips painted vibrant ruby and her blonde hair dancing in the gentle breeze, my chest squeezes. The feeling behind my ribs simply speaks to her beauty and the overwhelming emotions tied to this moment. Sutton recites his vows, and my vision locks the gold band on his finger, his hand lost in her silky hair as he holds her, sealing the ceremony with a kiss. They lift their hands in unison, and the people in the chairs p and cheer, Kat throwing rose petals at their feet as they make their way back down the aisle. And I wipe a singr tear, happy that my son and I have righted things, and that he is starting his life. He¡¯s earned degrees, worked, made killer deals, been in newspapers and magazines for his sales¨Cbut giving Avery ourst name and making her his, officially, is the start of his life. The life that actually matters, at least. And I¡¯m happy for him. For both of them.
The meal was delicious. The cake was even better. And the whiskey that followed all of it? Perfect. I¡¯ve managed to chalk all my strange and intense feelings today up to the pressure cooker of emotions that a wedding brings, and the fact that my son and I are only very recently allowed to be emotional for one another. Had this wedding taken ce months back, I¡¯d have been shoved into a small wooden chair just like Ford. Maybe merely having the privilege to stand with my son is what has me so twisted up today. Maybe it¡¯s watching my son find a better love than I ever had, finding a love that will take him through this life and the next¨CI don¡¯t know. What I do know is that I refuse to dwell on the sea of strange feelings that¡¯s arisen inside me today, and instead focus solely on providing the best reception for my son and daughter-inw. Zennie, Kat¡¯s girlfriend,es to my side, sweat glittering on her upper lip as she sips a rum and Coke. ¡°This music is killer,¡± she says, lifting her heeled foot to wiggle it. ¡°My feet are killing me, but I can¡¯t stop.¡± ¡°Live music is always so much more fun than a DJ,¡± Iment, because the music has been extraordinary. A mix of new music with old ssics, love bads and ssical during the transitional times¡ªthe band is a perfect fit for a ssic wedding. ¡°Your daughter-inw is, like, super good at wedding nning. She should be a wedding nner.¡± I wag my finger yfully. ¡°Don¡¯t tell her that. Mercer Properties needs her. She may have an eye for weddings, but she¡¯s really got an eye for home staging.¡± Zennie smiles. ¡°Oh, I know! Kat¡¯s shown me some of her work on the Mercer site.¡± She shakes her head, smoothing her fingers over some loose strands of hair that have danced their way out of her updo then extending her hand to me. ¡°I know we were introduced in a crowd earlier but I¡¯m Zennie, Kat¡¯s girlfriend.¡± We shake hands. ¡°Geo Mercer. What do you do for work, Zennie?¡± She smiles, but looks at Kat in the crowd, dancing with Cade, and watches on, affectionately. ¡°I¡¯m awyer.¡± She makes a face, her lips and nose wrinkled in confusion. ¡°I work at Parker and Pen, with Quincey Parker¡ªI thought Kat told you that?¡± I didn¡¯t know. In fact, I didn¡¯t think any female litigators worked at Parker and Pen. ¡°She didn¡¯t tell me.¡± I look out at the room, everyone huddled up for a slow song, Sutton holding Avery so close I can¡¯t see where one ends and the other begins. My chest squeezes, and I ignore the unexinable freefall in my belly. ¡°That¡¯s how we met. Kat came down to bring some of the duplicate copies of paperwork to Quincey and I was in his office when she came by.¡± ¡°The rest is history?¡± I ask, smirking. She smirks, too. ¡°I certainly hope. I mean, I bought a ring on our fifth date.¡± She cuts me a look. ¡°Don¡¯t say anything.¡± I lift my hands. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t spoil a thing like that. I¡¯m love¡¯s biggest advocate.¡± Zennieughs, tossing back the rest of her drink, which seems like it was more rum than Coke. ¡°You¡¯d do anything for love, eh?¡± I smile. ¡°You know it.¡± She leaves, and I congratte and say goodbye to my son and daughter-inw before ducking out, finding the cool evening waiting. Ford is outside, enjoying a cigar as the limos pull up, waiting to take the wedding party to our suites. Some are close to the area where we are, but the suites are spread out, and some require a short drive. Sutton and Avery chose limos to guide their guests around the property to their suites, and I would have chosen the same. ¡°That was a great wedding,¡± he says, his words hanging in an exhale in the night air. ¡°So tell me, since I¡¯ve seen Kat making heart eyes at Zen, what am I looking at, in terms of cost?¡± I shrug, reaching for his cigar, taking a long, heady pull. I don¡¯t smoke these anymore, but I love the way they taste. I pass it back to him. ¡°Don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°The Bets paid?¡± he asks of Avery¡¯s parents, who left in a rental car one hour after Sutton and Avery said I do. Everything I¡¯ve been told and all things witnessed, I get the impression that Avery and her folks aren¡¯t close, and I¡¯ve reframed my idea of her through this thought, the one where she¡¯s been alone forging her way in the world until Sutton, and I only feel more for her. ¡°No. Sutton paid for everything himself.¡± Another long, shiny car pulls up, and a man in a suit gets out, bobbing his head at me before taking a solemn stance in front of the bumper. ¡°Is that how it works? If your kid is fully grown then they¡¯ve gotta pay for their own wedding?¡± A few guestse out, waving and saying goodbye as they traipse through the lighted parking lot to their car. ¡°I would have paid for everything. When he proposed, we were still estranged.¡± Readplete version only at Find_Novel(. My brother ps my shoulder, the tattooed diamond near his eye scrunching with his crow¡¯s feet as he smiles. ¡°You¡¯ll make it up to them, one way or another I¡¯m sure.¡± He puts his cigar out and climbs into the back of the limo. ¡°We could walk but why let Sutton¡¯s money go to waste.¡± His brows furrow. ¡°Unless you¡¯re not ready?¡± I nce back inside. Not a lot of people are still here. Sutton catches my eyes through the double sets of doors. He lifts a hand and I do the same, then join my brother in the backseat of the limo, headed to my suite around the corner, overlooking the water. Father Knows Best: Chapter 17 The Gift I thought about this a thousand times, I swear. I¡¯ve made mental lists, physical lists, lists on my iPhone and on myputer¡ªI¡¯m pretty sure there are even a few electric bills with my list scrawled haphazardly on the back. Sutton is a sensible man with a handful of favorite things¨Cnice whiskey and wine, great suits, and good meals. All of those things he can make or buy himself, and does. We selected our rings together, and he nned our honeymoon to Bora Bora, and together, we live in our dream home. He has the car he wants. He wears the cologne he likes. There are very few gifts that I can reasonably purchase for Sutton that he actually longs for. And the wedding night gift should be special, more special than the bottle of 2015 Chateau Lafite Rothschild I got him for his 36th birthday. I¡¯ve already packed an ungodly and unreasonable amount ofcy things and thong underwear¨Cand besides, I¡¯m already his, my body already belongs to Sutton. I am not his gift. I thought about consulting Amelie, as my best friend, or even Roberta, since she dates around. But Sutton is so beyond private, the idea of one of them knowing what I give him on our wedding night feels like an overshare, for him. So I consult no one, and end up selecting a gift that feels right to me. I pull it out of my bag, and set it on the bed. Sutton rolls in the cart left at our suite by hospitality, lifting the sterling domed lid off of arge, rectangr te, revealing choctes and roses. On the tray is a pink box that reads Wedded Bliss. Sutt pulls the lid off andughs, tipping the box on its side to show me the contents. ¡°Most people wait for this night to not need these,¡± Sutt says of the three condoms in the box. ¡°Three, wow,¡± I say, nodding toward the other items. ¡°Three whole condoms and what else?¡± He pulls out a purple foil package, half the size of the condom package. ¡°Single use,¡± he says. The first time Sutt and I made love, he used a condom, but shortly after, we discussed our long term ns. After we exchanged our results which put us both in the clear for unprotected sex, I went on birth control. The pill, to be exact. And not long after Sutton¡¯s proposal we discussed when I¡¯d go off birth control. A few weeks ago, so that tonight, when we made love, I could, in theory, get pregnant. We realize it takes time to leave my system, but symbolically, quitting in time for our wedding night feels right. We¡¯re both okay with it taking a while, but we¡¯re equally okay with getting pregnant soon, too. ¡°Well,¡± I tell him, pushing the box aside as I slip a chocte past his lips. ¡°We don¡¯t need any of those things.¡± I smile up at my husband, already wholly obsessed with the new titles. ¡°Your wife already tossed her pills, too.¡± He kisses me, and we share thest bite of chocte on his tongue. ¡°I have something for you.¡± I reach for the box, matte ck, tied with a ck satin ribbon. His brow furrows. ¡°I didn¡¯t get you a gift for our wedding night.¡± He shoves a hand through his hair, dark hair spilling over his eyes before I reach up and push it back. ¡°The wedding is my gift,¡± I reply honestly. He refused to let me contribute. Not even to my dress. ¡°If that¡¯s true, then aren¡¯t you my gift?¡± he looks at the perfect ck box in between my hands then up at me. ¡°You¡¯re my gift.¡± I smile. ¡°No, this is your gift. And before you open it, I just wanted to tell you that I love you, Sutton.¡± My body trembles, nerves creeping through me as I near the moment that Sutton opens that box. I don¡¯t know how he¡¯ll react, or what he¡¯ll think, but I¡¯m excited because more than anything, I trust our bond. I trust our ability to grow and adapt together. And I think he¡¯s been showing me thest few weeks, in his way, that we¡¯re ready for more. Sutton is the type of guy who needs a little nudge, the way I steered him toward an open heart and mind when Geo came clean. This is no different. A little nudge, show him my heart, my willingness, all of my wicked desires¨Cand everything else will click into ce. He strokes his thumb over the satin ribbon on the box. ¡°I love you too, baby.¡± I nod, my eyes growing unexpectedly warm. I didn¡¯t even get misty at the ceremony¨CI was just so damn excited to belong to Sutton officially that all I could do was smile and stare at him. Seriously. ¡°And in thest few weeks, I¡¯ve felt myself growing even closer to you. And I was hoping that this gift would be the start of something new, of us getting even closer. Together.¡± I could pass out. I¡¯m so nervous, but I press my hand to my stomach, against thece and beaded fabric of my gown, and take a deep breath. He cups my cheek, and I nearly orgasm from the cool sting of his metal wedding band against my horny, fiery cheek. He smiles, but only part of his mouth curves, the other part still cautious. His mouth is a metaphor for his mind right now, I can see it in the way his gorgeous eyes nervously ping back and forth, from me to the gift. ¡°Open it.¡± He looks at me a moment longer, and I try as hard as I can to etch that version of him into my brain forter. The way he looks after a night of music, love and family, his bowtie draped around his neck untied, his hair absolutely disheveled and utterly hot. My gorgeous husband. Then his eyes drop to the box, and I bring my hands together, steepling them beneath my chin as he gives the ribbon a tug. It unspools for him, and he carefully lifts the lid off the box, his eyes cutting to mine onest time beforending on the contents. My heart leaps into my throat, wedging itself there without a single beat sneaking through as I stare at Sutton¡¯s face, tipped down, eyes locked on the gift. I swallow, though it feels impossible. ¡°What¨Cwhy are you giving me this?¡± he asks, his tone devoid of life, nothing in it but tness and confusion. I roll my lips together, fingertips carving a groove into my flesh beneath my chin as I hold my calm and steady position, trying not to overreact. ¡°Do you know what it is?¡± Sutton looks up at me for the first time, his eyes hollow, making my stomach plummet. ¡°Do you know what it is?¡± He reaches into the box and picks up the solid ck plug, one I picked in store at a shop downtownst week. He runs his thumb over the D printed on the base of the toy¨Cthe line I selected this from is called Debauchery, and it¡¯s the highest end toy line out there. He turns it over, holding it by the base. ¡°Did Kat put you up to this?¡± he asks, lips tightening, eyes narrowing. ¡°Put me¡­ up to it?¡± I look at the anal plug in his hand, sleek and perfectly sized for beginners, then look up, into his eyes. I reroute my brain from this sticky, inescapable reaction, and move toward my n¨Ctelling him what it¡¯s for. ¡°I thought we could use it together. On me. Or¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ you.¡± I lick my lips and smear my hands down my dress before steepling them again. ¡°One day, maybe.¡± Sutton blinks at me, and the warmth and excitement of our wedding night haspletely evaporated. ¡°I¡¯m not using a butt plug, Avery.¡± He ces the brand new toy into the box and sets the box on the bed, as if it¡¯s a dose of radiation we can¡¯t be near. I drop my hands and twist my fingers together nervously. This is a new kind of nervousness. It¡¯s not the exciting, anticipatory kind I usually get around him. This is the real, raw, bad kind of nervousness. ¡°Well, I could use it. It didn¡¯t have to be for you per se but¡­ for us.¡± Sutton¡¯s eyes sweep mine over and over, and after what feels like minutes have passed, he reaches out and rests his hand on my hip. A momentter, a grin breaks out across his face. ¡°You got me.¡± My lungs burn, and my eyes fill, and suddenly my body is on fire, my skin so hot that I can¡¯t take it. I press my hands to my stomach and turn, exposing my back to him. ¡°Take the dress off. Please, unzip me. Now.¡± Sutton, ever astute, realizes this is not a sexy disrobing, and that something is wrong, or about to be. He tugs the zipper down gently and helps me step out of my dress. My sweaty body trembles in my whitece teddy, garter and thigh high stockings in perfect ce. Though showing him this is ying out a lot differently than I expected. I snatch my satin robe¡ªthe one that reads Mrs. Mercer on the back¡ªoff the chair and tug it on, cinching it so tightly that Sutton can¡¯t see any of my body. ¡°You look beautiful in that ro¨C¡± ¡°Sutton, I wasn¡¯t tricking you. The gift wasn¡¯t a joke.¡± Hot tears steam down my cheeks. Sickness churns through every part of me, ces in me that I had no idea could feel sick do. ¡°Oh my god,¡± I breathe out the words, shaky and broken, and nearly lose my footing as I spin around and shove my feet into¨Cwhat are these? My wedding heels? I don¡¯t care. They¡¯re shoes. I can¡¯t breathe. This is so humiliating. ¡°Avery, c¡¯mon¨C¡± he takes me by the upper arm, and I spin, eyes blurry from humiliated tears, which sting their way down my cheeks. ¡°I thought we could, I don¡¯t know Sutton, push ourselves, together. Try new things¡­ together.¡± There¡¯s nothing wrong with what I¡¯m asking and yet I¡¯ve never felt so tiny. I feel like I could slip into the Earth and disappear. He nces back at the box, the toy ring back up at us creating a powerful divide that did not exist minutes ago. Looking back at me, he takes my hand and strokes his thumb over the wedding band that he slipped onto my finger earlier tonight, when wemitted to forever together. ¡°I thought you were joking.¡± Follow current nov?ls on find?novel My chest burns. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a joke.¡± His face falls, those beautiful eyes of his shattering into a million fragments of confusion and stabbing pain. But I can¡¯t stand here and ease his pain¡ªI hurt. He hurt me. What he said, the way that he reacted. ¡°Avery, I¡¯m a grown man. I don¡¯t y with toys. And I certainly don¡¯t y around when making love to my wife.¡± His lips form a thin line, dark eyes searching mine, but I yank my hand from his grip, my entire body suddenly in fight or flight. I choose flight. ¡°Avery¨C¡± he stops himself, but doesn¡¯t know where to pick up his sentence, so he lets it die. Our wedding night is dying. Nausea spikes up my throat, stinging my senses. Oh my God. I¡¯m running out on my wedding night. Something hits my chest, a gentle plunk, but weighty enough to get my attention. I turn, looking down as I make my way through the oversized suite, headed for the door. Mascara. There¡¯s mascara on my robe because that was a tear. I¡¯m sobbing. I didn¡¯t feel it or hear myself, but I¡¯m sobbing. I think he calls for me, I think he cries out for me toe back, but I can¡¯t be sure. A high pitched noise, something like panic and shock, sounds off in my brain. My hands shake as I pull the heavy door open. The hallway is cool, but I¡¯m so overheated and overwhelmed¨CI don¡¯t know what to do but cry. Cry and run. My ankles throb with every frantic step down the ornate hallway, my chest heaving with ragged sobs. My lungs burn, scorched by the weight of my tears, the desperate running I¡¯m doing, and the shattering of my wedding night¡¯s fragile hopes. How is this my wedding night? I¡¯m so embarrassed. He looked at me like I¡¯m disgusting. There¡¯s a curve at the end of the hall, and I run toward it, toward the bank of elevators nestled just a few feet away. Turning the corner, I tap the button, watching it re red on first tap but I can¡¯t stop. My eyes blur with sobering tears as I hit the red blob over and over and over until¨C ¡°Avery?¡± Geo¡¯s voice slices through me like having ice water poured down my back. Wrapping my arms around myself, I swallow, and look him straight in the eye as I back up toward the wall, still tapping the button. I don¡¯t say anything, but still, I feel my lips tremble, tears leaking into my mouth. Sutton¡¯s voice echoes down the hall. ¡°Avery!¡± The doors open, and I step on, blinking at Geo. He looks at the end of the hall, where Sutton appears a momentter, eyes wide, nostril red, bow tie still strung open around his neck. Geo looks between us, then steps onto the elevator with me right as the doors close. Father Knows Best: Chapter 18 The Fight After starting the journey to our rooms, we realized we weren¡¯t ready to turn in. Ford and I found the bar located on the top floor of one of their suite buildings, and decided on a night-cap. The only other thing up here is the penthouse suite, which Sutton and Avery have for the night. We enjoyed our drink. I found myself ncing at the elevator doors every few moments, wondering when they¡¯de up. Ford had gone down to his room after our drink, and I chose to stay at the bar, waiting until I was so exhausted that I knew I¡¯d pass out the moment I went up. Now is the time. I¡¯m beat, and have my mind set on bed. I pay the tab, leave a generous tip, and head out, suit jacket slung over my shoulder by a finger. But while walking to the elevators, yawning, my mind fuzzy from the emotions and booze, a blur of white rushes past me. At the elevator, frantically tapping the button, her garter belt and thigh highs peeking out past the short hem of her silk robe, is Avery. ¡°Avery?¡± I ask, but I don¡¯t know why, I know it¡¯s her. She spins, rivers of mascara cascading down her cheeks, her eyes and the tip of her nose red. Her hair is messy, and loose strands cling to the wetness on her cheeks. Her robe is marked with tears, stained with makeup. She wraps one arm around herself and the other hand stays on the button, tapping. The doors open and she steps inside, her bottom lip wobbling in a way that makes my entire core ache. My chest goes concave and my spine rigid¨CI¡¯ve never seen Avery upset to this extent. Emotional? Yes. But upset like this? She¡¯s devastatingly beautiful even in her pain, but I put those thoughts aside as my son¡¯s voice flits down the hall, calling out his new wife¡¯s name. A momentter he appears and my gaze cuts to him. His eyes hold mine, full of pain and uncertainty, and then he looks into the elevator. I don¡¯t know if she looks at him, too, but I see his face when he spots her, and the pain that overwhelms him in just a split second. His gaze returns to me, and I do what I need to do. Something has happened between them. She¡¯s running. He¡¯s chasing. They need me. I step onto the elevator just as the doors close, leaving Sutton on the top floor. The only thing up here is the penthouse suite, and the CityScape bar. I nce at the deck of buttons, and see that Avery has selected the lobby. I turn to her, and find her holding her face, quiet sobs slipping between her fingers. ¡°Avery, you can¡¯t go down to the lobby that way.¡± I slip out of my suit jacket, and wrap it around her, tucking the ends of my sleeves into her hands, forcing her to hold it around herself. ¡°You can¡¯t go down there in lingerie and a robe, sweetheart. And tomorrow, when this is all settled, you won¡¯t have wanted to.¡± She looks up, her honey hair curtaining her swollen cheeks. ¡°This won¡¯t be settled tomorrow.¡± I lick my lips, my pulse ticking nervously in my throat. ¡°What is this?¡± She sobs and I can¡¯t stop the sobs, nor do I have the right to ask, so I pull her into my chest as the doors open. A man stands on the other side, a roller suitcase next to his feet, a briefcase hanging from his hand. He had the red eye and he¡¯s here for business, no doubt, but I catch his nce as he moves to join us, and I simply shake my head. ¡°Catch the next one,¡± I tell him softly, over the top of Avery¡¯s head. He nods, and the doors close, and I tap the PH button on the panel. ¡°I¡¯m going to take you back up to Sutton, sweetheart, okay?¡± I tell her softly, stroking my palm up and down her back, trying not to take even a molecule of pleasure from the way she looks in my suit jacket. ¡°Not yet, please,¡± she cries, jerking out of my grip, her hand thwacking against the STOP button. The elevator slowly halts, and the overhead lights drop to a dim. ¡°I¡¯m not ready,¡± she whispers, voice shaky, tears still streaming. I may have missed a lot of bonding years with my son, but we always lived under the same roof, and have worked together for years. I may not be his best friend, not just yet, but I know him. He would not hurt Avery. He adores Avery. He¡¯s obsessed with her, one may even go so far as to say. So why she¡¯s running from him on their wedding night, I have no clue. ¡°What happened?¡± I ask her quietly, our voices slightly echoed from the small, confined space. ¡°Sutton, he¡­¡± she starts, but her words quickly fall off, and the tears rece anything understandable. We stand in the stopped elevator for a minute while she cries, and I reach out, stroking my hand up her arm, hoping to make her feel better. I hate seeing her this way. Thest few drinks, which had settled nicely, are now tumultuous fire in my belly, making my lips tingle with nausea. I hate seeing Avery cry. It¡¯s quite possibly the most awful thing I¡¯ve ever experienced. ¡°Avery, please, I can¡¯t stand seeing you this way,¡± I admit, and her head lifts from my words, exposing her messy, reddened face¡ªstill goddamn gorgeous, nheless. I bring a closed fist to my chest and thump it over my heart. ¡°It¡¯s killing me, sweetheart. Please, let me take you back to Sutton.¡± The wobble in her bottom lip almost undoes me. ¡°I can¡¯t talk to Sutton.¡± I file that sentence in with the very limited information I have. Sutton ran out, after her. That means he didn¡¯t kick her out¡ªfuck, of course he didn¡¯t. He loves her. They just fucking married. I restart the elevator, because we both know she¡¯s got to go back. I scratch at the back of my head as the elevator drags us up, quietly and smoothly until we startle to a stop. The doors open. ¡°Maybe I can help talk to him,¡± I assure her, though I have no idea what I¡¯m walking in on. Are they arguing over something that took ce at the ceremony? I can¡¯t even begin to think of one logical reason that would have them in this state. I extend a hand to her, and she takes it, and together we walk off the elevator into the cool hallway. On the floor, crumpled and disheveled, Sutton is slumped, head tipped forward into his hands. At the sound of the doors closing, he startles to his feet, blinking between us. We walk quietly, Sutton leading us back to the grand, ckcquer double doors at the end of the hall. Using his key card, he pushes inside, and I guide Avery in, past him. She keeps her head down, and when my eyes meet his, I¡¯ve never seen my son quite like this. Genuinely worried. I guide her to take a seat at the edge of the bed, and motion for my son to sit in the oversized leather chair in the room, near the bed. I bring her a bottle of water from the mini bar, and a box of tissues. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Avery says nothing and continues to sniffle, while Sutton also says nothing, his leg jumping nervously as he peers up at me from his chair. I shake my head. ¡°I¡¯m here to help. Please, tell me what¡¯s going on.¡± Sutton pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh of frustration. ¡°This isn¡¯t a discussion I wish to have in front of my dad.¡± I will never tire of hearing him call me Dad instead of George, Geo or father. I shrug. ¡°We are family. And since I found your wife in the elevator in tears, I¡¯d say your ability to solve this issue without a third-party is non-existent.¡± Suttonughs, humorlessly, then quietly breathes ¡°Oh my god.¡± ¡°What?¡± I ask, looking between them, finding Avery at least looking up at me now, calming down a tiny amount. My coat has fallen from her shoulders, unintentionally, and I ignore the sting of disappointment when I notice. ¡°In truth, I¡¯m not really sure what the problem is,¡± my son says a momentter, hands now death-gripping the chair¡¯s arms. Avery nudges my foot with hers, now bare, her heels abandoned beneath her. When I look at her, she tips her head back, and my eyes follow, spotting a ck box, ck satin ribbon beneath it. She reaches back and passes it to me, and I knock the lid off, exposing a small ck anal plug inside. I look up, splitting a curious nce between the two of them. ¡°Okay¡­ and?¡± I don¡¯t see how this toy has caused such divide. I don¡¯t understand and in fact, am more confused than before. Rolling her lips together, Avery twists the lid off of the bottled water, and takes a few sips. Letting out what seems to be a steadying exhale, she looks up at me. ¡°I gave that to Sutton tonight, as a wedding night gift.¡± She reces the lid on the box and tosses it aside, as if even looking at it makes her sick. She brings a wadded up tissue beneath her eye and swipes at the makeup. ¡°I thought once we were married, we¡¯d explore more things¡­ you know, sexually. And this gift was to¡­¡± She shakes her head, then captures it in both hands, shielding herself from us. I nce at my worried son, then take a seat next to Avery. She slides into me, and I rest my hand on her knee. ¡°What? Tell me exactly what you¡¯re feeling and thinking. Sutton¡¯s here. He¡¯s listening.¡± I¡¯ve never mediated anything before. Most of my life has been spent walking on eggshells around my son, hoping for things to be different while being positive and hopeful. When Margot was alive, all I really did was beg. Beg for her to be different, to stay home, to love me, for me to be enough, for her to¡­ stay. But I can mediate. I will help my son and my daughter-inw fix this. I didn¡¯t earn him back, and her too, only to fail them now. I¡¯ve failed my son too many times in the past. I have to help now. It¡¯s my duty. ¡°I just¡­ I love you, Sutton. And I always want more of you. The other day, when you turned me down in the house¨C¡± she shakes her head, and I see for the first time behind the veil. It¡¯s not perfect between them, yet I¡¯d never have guessed otherwise. ¡°I told you, not in public. You are mine, for me, and I would never want some stranger walking in and having ess to things that are private.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°Let me finish¨Cplease, Sutton. This is hard enough.¡± I keep my hand on her knee and give her a gentle pat. ¡°I truly thought that once we married, slowly, you¡¯d be open to giving me more of yourself. Exploring. Trying new things.¡± Sutton smooths his palms down his thighs. ¡°One of the things I love about you is that you¡­¡± his eyes cut to mine, and I simply blink, hopeful that he realizes now is not the time to be shy. That his whole life is on the line. He nods his head, understanding the nonverbal cue I¡¯ve given. ¡°I love that you want to make love to me, with me, and that we¡¯ve been verypatible in that sense.¡± Find the newest release on F?ndNovel ¡°I like that, too, Sutton, I do, I adore you, you melt me, you absolutely do,¡± she stammers, voice shaky. ¡°But that,¡± he says, nodding to the box, ¡°that tells me you don¡¯t like what¡­ the way we¡¯ve been. That you¡¯re unhappy.¡± She gets to her feet and I get to mine, and suddenly we¡¯re standing and I¡¯m between them. ¡°I love what you love, I do, I promise you, every moment we¡¯ve shared has been everything to me,¡± she says, tears leaking from her eyes. ¡°I just want more. I want so much more, Sutton.¡± He shakes his head. ¡°I love you, Avery, but¡­ I know myself. And I¡¯m not sure that exploring things like that are¡­ for me.¡± I¡¯m surprised when she stands taller, with conviction in her blue eyes. ¡°Are you saying that you¡¯ll never regrlye in my mouth and let me swallow?¡± Shock stings my senses, and I can¡¯t help but stare at Avery as she stares at my son, eyes wide. I¡¯ve never heard her curse, I don¡¯t think, and now, to be addressing such personal issues¨CI¡¯m surprised. But that¡¯s why I¡¯m here. And I just told my son not to be embarrassed, that I¡¯d help. I can¡¯t let the shock of learning that Avery is sexually starved stir me up right now. ¡°Avery¨C¡± Sutton says, his cheeks flooding with color. I face my son and extend a hand, urging him to calm down. ¡°Sutton,e on. I realize you and your wife have a sex life. Let¡¯s not get embarrassed.¡± ¡°That¡¯s my whole point, Sutton. You can¡¯t even talk about it. I wanted to go down on you after we made love and you couldn¡¯t stand hearing that I wanted to taste us.¡± She shakes her head, hands going to her hair, pulling at the stands for a moment. ¡°You don¡¯t let me in the bathroom while you shower. I¡¯ve never seen you go to the bathroom. You don¡¯t even get dressed in front of me until your boxers are on!¡± ¡°You want to see me go to the bathroom?¡± Sutton asks, which earns a wall-rattling groan from Avery. ¡°No, I mean¡ªyes,¡± she huffs out, her voice rising, and this is another side I¡¯ve never seen of Avery. Frustrated. And judging by Sutton¡¯s expression, it¡¯s a side he¡¯s never seen before, either. ¡°It¡¯s not that I want to watch you go to the bathroom, Sutt, Jesus, you¡¯re missing the point.¡± They both fall quiet again. ¡°You¡¯re looking for more intimacy then?¡± I guess. She shakes her head and roots around in the covers before she finds the box again, holding it to her chest. ¡°Sutton, you are an intimate, romantic lover and I love that so much. I really do. But I love you so much that I want more than romantic sex with you. I want¡­ feral, unhinged, carnal, raw. I want you to react when you see me, I want you to show me how much you love me by forcing your way inside me because you just can¡¯t wait. Taking yourself out in the car on the drive home and begging me to suck you because you need me¡ªmy mouth¡ªthat bad.¡± She shakes her head, casting her shining blue eyes on my son. He lifts his head, and smooths his hand over his hair, his dark eyes wet. ¡°I¡¯m not built that way, Avery. I¡¯m just not that man.¡± She rolls her lips together. ¡°You put me on the kitchen counter. That was¡­ I was so sure that more of that wasing, that you were just waiting until we got married to really just¡­ let go with me.¡± The room goes silent after my son speaks again. ¡°I enjoyed that, and you¡¯re right, it was spontaneous for me. But I enjoy having you in our bedroom much more.¡± He shakes his head, studying the gold band on his finger. ¡°I am not into gratuitous sex with the woman I love.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think gratuitous is the right word choice,¡± I amend, as Avery¡¯s face plummets. Her voice is so small, yet it has the ability to nearly cave in my entire chest. ¡°I learned something about you tonight, Sutton. You are judgmental. And I have never felt more misunderstood and judged than at this moment.¡± I can¡¯t help but chuckle, and insert a subtle truth in hopes of diffusing the emotionally stiff moment. ¡°He¡¯s always been judgemental, Avery. That¡¯s not new.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°Not where I¡¯m concerned. Not until now.¡± More silence. I turn toward Avery. ¡°You¡¯re asking for Sutton to be¡­ more explorative, sexually speaking?¡± Avery nods. I face my son. ¡°And you feel that exploring some of these things is beyond your breadth?¡± I haven¡¯t seen him this way in many years. His chin wobbles and he gets to his feet, reaching for Avery, but she doesn¡¯t budge. ¡°I love you so much.¡± Avery exhales, broken and shaky. ¡°Answer your dad,¡± she begs. Sutton¡¯s eyes never leave hers as he responds, ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Yes, what?¡± I can¡¯t even remember my own question, because a tear is slipping down Sutton¡¯s cheek, and Avery¡¯s face has gonepletely white. ¡°Yes, I do not believe I can be explorative in the ways that Avery is asking.¡± My stomach plummets. I hold no judgement in my heart for either of them¨Cbut I am surprised to learn that none of this was discussed before marriage. I turn to Avery, nervous for them as I ask, ¡°Can you forgo sexual exploration?¡± Sutton doesn¡¯t let Avery answer. ¡°She shouldn¡¯t have to,¡± he says, voice thinning. ¡°I want you to have everything you want.¡± ¡°I want you, Sutton.¡± He shakes his head. ¡°But you want more. You need more.¡± She stands in her conviction. ¡°I do.¡± He reaches past me, and touches her hip before letting his hand drop. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to go without the things you want. But I can¡¯t live a life of being someone I¡¯m not.¡± ¡°Sutton,¡± I start, fear clinging to every nerve ending inside me. ¡°I think we should sleep apart,¡± she says, sinking into the bed, her tears growing frantic and wild. Sutton grabs his bag, and heads for the door. ¡°Stop,¡± I call to both of them, though Avery is motionless on the bed. ¡°No one is going anywhere.¡± Not until this is worked out. Father Knows Best: Chapter 19 The Solution My dad is right. We can¡¯t just give up. I can¡¯t just walk out. I know that I¡¯m not capable of giving Avery the things she needs¨CI don¡¯t have some weird hangup, there¡¯s no trauma in my childhood and nothing deep-seated inside me that prevents me from doing those things, or being that way. It¡¯s preference. And just because I am a male does not mean that I want to grab her by the throat and spit in her face. Or have sex with her ass, or make her swallow my cum. Avery stole my breath the first moment Iid eyes on her, over a year ago, in that quiet house where our worlds thankfully collided. She¡¯s radiantly beautiful and her heart is made of the best things, tender and empathetic, woven with an authenticity that disarms and a pure, real kindness. She¡¯s delicate but strong, and I¡¯m utterly enchanted by every facet of her being. She is my wife and my heart, and I have zero interest in being filthy or vile with her. I want to make love to her. Use a quiet voice in her ear while we make a baby. Skate my hands over the soft, delicate parts of her and taste her mouth while I¡¯m sunk deep in her warm, tight channel. Th? link to the orig?n of this information r?sts ?n f?ndnovel I don¡¯t want to vite or denigrate her. I don¡¯t judge those that are into mixing sex with kink, or with violence, as long as everyone¡¯s consenting. But can I force myself to do those things and treat her that way, even if I know that she wants it? If it goes against every single ounce of who I am and what I want¨CI love her, but I don¡¯t think I can do that. Where does that leave us? I can¡¯t wrap my mind around where that leads us. Sickness sinks its ws deep into my roots, making my feet leaden, my body sluggish. ¡°Avery.¡± How did we never discuss this? We nned on trying for children right away. We were going to stay in this house for ten more years. She wanted to learn how to make pasta from scratch. I told her I was going to build a chicken coop. We never discussed sex, and what we want. I didn¡¯t think we had the type of rtionship that needed to discuss it. Every time we made love, I made here. Most times, multiple times. She wasn¡¯t faking, either. I scratch the back of my head, unsure what to say. ¡°Can I ask something?¡± my dad asks, breaking the stiff tension. Avery looks up at him, and I wait. He loosens his tie and moves his suit jacket, draping it over the edge of the bed. That¡¯s something I hadn¡¯t anticipated¨Cmy dad in my hotel room on my wedding night, gettingfortable. ¡°Why did the two of you never discuss this?¡± He poses a wonderful question, I¡¯m learning. ¡°I didn¡¯t think we needed to,¡± I reply, leveling my gaze at Avery. She¡¯s already looking at me, traces of a passive smile on her lips. ¡°I thought we were happy, and that everything in that department was going well.¡± Avery rests her head against her hand, elbow propped on her thigh. ¡°Sutton, making love to you is my favorite thing to do.¡± She smiles, and it makes me wish I could flip a switch and want everything she wants. I wish I could want those things. I do. ¡°I love fucking you so much that I just want to find new, exciting ways to do it. That¡¯s all.¡± I¡¯ve never heard her talk that way¨Cvulgar and unfiltered. Even my dad is staring at her, his mouth open just slightly. Her eyes stay on me, seductive and foreboding, causing heat to spill from my pores, slithering over my body. ¡°It¡¯s not boredom?¡± Her face falls, shock coloring her expression for just a moment before her lips form a small curve. ¡°Do you remember when I walked in on you? In the bathroom that night? Finishing in the sink?¡± I look at my dad, who rightfully and respectfully looks down at his shoes, lips pressed tight. Embarrassment stalks up my neck and colors my cheeks. We¡¯d just started dating and we hadn¡¯t been intimate yet. Normally I have more self control than that but I felt like if I didn¡¯t jerk off into the sink that night, I would¡¯ve had an ident grinding up against her in bed. I was so turned on, then absolutely mortified when she caught me. Now? Only moderately embarrassing, considering my dad now knows¡ªalong with myself¡ªthat I can¡¯t please my wife. I nod. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I think about when I masturbate.¡± I shake my head, my shoulders and neck burning, head woozy. ¡°Avery.¡± ¡°You turn me on, Sutton. Most days we work in the office together, I go home sticky and wet.¡± She nces at my dad, whose eyes are now lifted from the ground, set on her. I don¡¯t me him. I shake my head. ¡°I feel like I don¡¯t even know you. You don¡¯t talk like this. You¡¯re not¡­ this isn¡¯t you.¡± Shock colors my vision, and I sink back into therge chair, dizzy, confused. She moves past my dad and straddles myp, dragging her hands down the back of my head before linking them at my neck. ¡°Think about things. Just for a second,¡± she says calmly. ¡°You do know me. This is me, and if you think about things just a little more, I think you¡¯ll agree.¡± She bends and kisses my ear, and the concerns for my dad being in the room begin to drift. She drags her nails beneath my cor. ¡°I may be using explicitnguage tonight, but how many times have you opened the bathroom door after your shower and found me lingering? Saying I was doingundry or something?¡± More times than not, when I think about it, Avery is near the bathroom door after my shower. But I don¡¯t know what it means, so I bring my brows together. ¡°I am so starved for more of you, I listen to you shower, hoping I hear you touch yourself, jealous of drops of water, jealous of a drain.¡± A groan erupts, and I realize it¡¯s me. I look past Avery to my dad, who is now sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes locked on me. She ces her hand against my cheek and forces my face to hers. My groin grows hot, awareness melting over me. ¡°I stick my fingers inside myself after we make love, so I can feel your cum.¡± My body catches invisible fire, but my mind is in a gridlock of confusion as her mouth grazes mine. ¡°Trust me when I tell you that I¡¯ve been happy. Because I adore and love you, Sutton. But I want more.¡± I want to give her more. I thought I was going to give her everything. But it¡¯s not me. ¡°Avery, I can¡¯t.¡± She doesn¡¯t get a chance to reply, because my dad interrupts. I¡¯m grateful, though, because I have no idea how to solve this. How to fix this. How to fix us. ¡°Son,e here.¡± Avery slides off myp and into the chair, waiting as I cross the room and sit with my dad. He turns his head toward me, away from Avery, offering what little privacy he can. ¡°What¡¯s the harm in putting a plug in? It doesn¡¯t hurt and if¨C¡± I hold up my hand. ¡°I¡¯m not doing that.¡± He bobs his head like he expected that. ¡°I understand that it¡¯s outside the realm of your expectations, but if Avery trusts you enough to share that she wants this, do you think you could trust her enough to just¡­ try it?¡± I nce back at the plug, then up at my dad. ¡°I love Avery and I trust her. And she trusts me. This isn¡¯t about trust.¡± My dad nods his head, scratches the side of his beard, then pulls at the bottom a little before trying again. ¡°Is it fear of¡­ I don¡¯t know, liking it? Because I can tell you, you would like it.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to¨Cjust¡ªstop, okay?¡± I pinch the bridge of my nose and think about that time Roberta drank too much at the mixer and puked in the fica tree, because I am not going to think about my dad using a plug. Dad nods. ¡°I don¡¯t judge you for not being interested in the same things as Avery, and I realize that it¡¯s not as simple as doing what she wants. And if the roles were reversed, I would not try to convince Avery to adapt to your needs, either. But I did want to check to see if this is hang-up rted somehow or just¡­ you.¡± I shake my head. ¡°No hang ups. I simply am not attracted to those acts. That¡¯s all it is.¡± The three of us sit in the silence for a few more minutes before Dad says, ¡°I want to help you solve this.¡± ¡°What if it¡¯s unsolvable?¡± Avery asks from the chair in the corner. ¡°I mean, Sutton, you can¡¯t be someone you¡¯re not but¡­ neither can I.¡± I can¡¯t lose Avery. I won¡¯t. I¡¯ll figure this out, somehow. ¡°We could take apatibility quiz,¡± Avery suggests. ¡°And see if we have any ovep?¡± My dad shakes his head and gets to his feet, the only one of us in the room standing. ¡°I can help.¡± I look up at my dad. ¡°How?¡± He looks between my new wife and myself, and takes a deep breath that both excites and concerns me. ¡°I can give Avery what she needs. I¡¯m experienced, you both trust me, right?¡± he asks, but continues before we can respond. ¡°You can know with 100% certainty that I¡¯m clean, I¡¯ll be faithful to her while you both need me, and I won¡¯t tell a single soul. And I won¡¯t get attached because I know why I¡¯m there. Who I¡¯m doing it for.¡± My wife, still wearing nothing but a thin robe, gets to her feet, nostrils ring, tears shining in her eyes. She doesn¡¯t even look at me, but instead locks her vision onto my father. She raises her arm, extends a finger, and points toward the suite doors on the other side of the space. ¡°Get out!¡± Father Knows Best: Chapter 20 The Deal I did get out. I did leave. But I¡¯m standing in the hall, where my son asked me to wait. Now I¡¯m pacing and wondering what the hell has gotten into me. Did I offer myself up out of guilt? Repairing things with Sutton has been the highlight of my adult life, honestly, but I still harbor so much guilt for my choices all those years ago. Did I offer to do this because I feel some responsibility to keep my son¡¯s best rtionship in tact, since I fucked up his most crucial rtionship perspectives as a child? I don¡¯t know. Or maybe I offered myself up because somewhere deep inside me, I have a thing for my son¡¯s wife. I do adore Avery, in a tonic sense of course. She has in the past made me aroused, yes. But she¡¯s gorgeous and I¡¯m not sure Sutton would fault me for that, if he knew. It¡¯s not within my control¨Cmy cock doesn¡¯t know it¡¯s given a standing ovation to my son¡¯s wife. I¡¯d be lying if I said I didn¡¯t feel guilty about it, though. Maybe that¡¯s why I offered? I pause my pacing and look down at my patent dress shoes, and the intricate pattern in the burgundy and gold berber carpet. Calm down. You offered to help. Sure, it¡¯s unconventional but what part of life isn¡¯t at this point? The doors open, and I nce up to lock eyes with my son, who tucks his head toward the room, wordlessly inviting me back inside. It¡¯s only been a few minutes. I didn¡¯t hear raised voices or even hushed tones. Did they talk about it or did Avery simply put her foot down on the idea? She has every right to do that, and as the doors click closed behind us and my eyese to hers, I¡¯m filled with regret. She wants Sutton to fulfill her sexual needs, not Sutton¡¯s father. Why did I think that was an appropriate suggestion? Therge suite is quiet, and my face remains stoic despite the raging storm of insecurity, indecision and regret brewing in my gut. ¡°Listen, I¨C¡± ¡°Do you have experience with toys?¡± Avery asks, and when I cut my eyes to my son, he gives me a singr, reassuring nod. Holy shit. I think they¡¯re considering this. I suggested it yet, I suppose I didn¡¯t think this far down the line. ¡°I do,¡± I tell her honestly. ¡°Like the plug or¡­¡± she looks at Sutton, and they share a tender, twisted nce. I wonder what they discussed when I was out of the room? I can¡¯t even wrap my head around the idea that they¡¯re considering this. I¡¯d do it. It wasn¡¯t an empty offer. ¡°Other things?¡± My pulse picks up. ¡°That, and more.¡± If it¡¯s a thing, I¡¯ve done it, but I don¡¯t relish admitting that in front of my son. Then again, I think I blew past appropriate when I offered to fuck his wife. Avery licks her lips, her hands nervously smoothing over the hem of her robe. ¡°Are you open to having things done to you?¡± I clear my throat. ¡°As opposed to?¡± She tips her head sideways. ¡°You doing things to me.¡± Those five words nearly take me out at the knees, and from across the room, Sutton groans, shrugging out of his suit jacket, draping it across the bed. ¡°Son, are you okay?¡± I ask, forgoing Avery¡¯s question for a moment. I study him. Dark circles under his eyes, his hair is a mess¡ªbut he looks up at me and nods, and I can see that he is okay, and that¡¯s what I need to know before I continue. ¡°I¡¯m open to both.¡± I feel the need to rify. ¡°I¡¯m not adverse to anything, Avery, that¡¯s all I mean to say.¡± ¡°And what would he do when I¡¯m with you?¡± she asks. I take a deep breath, considering her question. What was my n when I offered this? I guess if I think about it¡­ I skate a hand up the back of my head and push out a sigh. ¡°Watch.¡± He snorts. ¡°That¡¯s some kind of fucked up, watching my dad have sex? With my wife?¡± I shrug. ¡°It¡¯s as fucked up as you make it. And anyway, you¡¯d be making eye contact with her, watching her, keeping your focus and every ounce of your attention on her. Your wife. Watching her get what she needs. That will be your pleasure, being there, being able to allow her to get what she needs while being there.¡± Avery¡¯s mind is working overtime, and I¡¯m trying to keep up. ¡°You can¡¯t rearrange your whole life for us, Geo.¡± ¡°What life? What rearrange? I¡¯m not in a rtionship. I¡¯m fifty-six years old. I¡¯m not dying to meet someone. Taking myself off the market for a bit to help you two is not a rearranging of my life. She shakes her head, twisting her hair to one side of her body with two fingers. I love, maybe more than I should, watching her y with her hair. ¡°I hadn¡¯t even considered the way you¡¯d put your entire romantic life on a shelf for us.¡± She shakes her head, swiping at a tear that I can¡¯t see. ¡°What were you referring to, then?¡± Sutton speaks now, and I realize that in the few minutes I stood in the hall freaking the fuck out, they actually talked about my offer. In a serious capacity. ¡°She¡¯s referring to the fact she¡¯d like you to live with us, if we did embark on this¡­ thing.¡± ???s ??????? ?s ?????? ?? f?ndnovel I stroke my hand down the buttons of my dress shirt, one I thought I¡¯d be out of hours ago. I thought I¡¯d be drunk and dozing by this hour. Not here, in their room, when they should be nothing but sweaty, writhing bodies and whispered adorations of one another. I¡¯ll admit. No matter what Sutton ims, I question if his preference doesn¡¯t stem from Margot, and what he remembers. Maybe a sex life of missionary and privacy, to him, isfort and safety. I don¡¯t know. ¡°Live with you,¡± I repeat that sentiment, my mind reeling. ¡°Live with my grown son and his wife like I¡¯m one sprained ankle away from some old folks home?¡± Avery simply says, ¡°Geo,¡± in a tone that uses me of knowing better, and scolds me for making ament to the contrary. ¡°That¡¯s what people will think.¡± Suttonughs, and Avery joins him, and though it¡¯s two against one at this moment, the room doesn¡¯t feel divided like it once used to, before I came clean to my son. ¡°No one will think that because you¡¯re the CEO of Mercer, you¡¯re in newspapers and magazines all the time. You¡¯re not even close to convalescence.¡± He shakes his head, tugging off then tossing his bowtie aside. ¡°Besides, no one would have to know. I mean, not really.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to lie about where I live. That sounds, quite frankly, exhausting.¡± I look at Avery. ¡°Why would I need to live with the two of you, should we do this?¡± Do this. Those two words are bloated, overflowing with what could be. Her soulful blue eyes idle on mine, and I ignore the stirring in my bones, the roaring in my veins, the quiet roar of desire in my groin as she gets to her feet, joining Sutton on the edge of the bed. ¡°Because otherwise, I¡¯m a married woman making a booty call to her father-inw, that¡¯s why.¡± Sutton¡¯s eyese to mine, though his head barely lifts. ¡°She feels like a whore for her desires, and having someonee sate them from a phone call makes her feel even worse. This solution only works if everyone feels good about it, and right now, she doesn¡¯t.¡± He gets to his feet and wee chest to chest in a non-confrontational type of way. ¡°She doesn¡¯t want to feel like a service call.¡± I lower my voice, despite the fact that I know Avery can still hear me. ¡°Are you serious about this? Do you want this?¡± Because I will move in with them. I will do this. I will make thismitment to both of them, right now. I¡¯ve lived my life, and I have more life to live, stretched out in front of me. But I can shelve my life for a while, to help them. In a way, I owe it to Sutton. I owe them both many good years for the ones I¡¯ve stolen. ¡°I love Avery, and I can¡¯t see a life without her in it. But I can¡¯t pretend to enjoy things I don¡¯t, and equally, I can¡¯t ask her to give up things she wants.¡± He ces his hand on the side of my bicep, gently, and squeezes. ¡°You¡¯re the only one I trust.¡± I can¡¯t wrap my head around uptight, rule following, territorial Sutton allowing me to be with Avery. ¡°You¡¯re not freaking out?¡± He nods toward the hall. ¡°I was, when you were out there. We both were.¡± I cock a brow, and split my nces between them. ¡°And you¡¯re not now?¡± Avery shakes her head. ¡°I am attracted to you, Geo. And I love you. We¡¯re family.¡± She shrugs, the white robe slipping down, exposing a bare, soft shoulder that makes my groin throb. ¡°We both want this. But we want to establish rules, for all of our safety.¡± She¡¯s attracted to me? I want to go back to that, but I know that revisiting that amidst everything else would be ufortable. ¡°Rules,¡± I repeat, smoothing my hand down my stomach, ignoring the twitch of arousal in my cock. ¡°Avery and I want to start our family, so one of the rules would be that you do note inside of her,¡± Sutton says, so matter of factly that I have to get off my feet before I pass the hell out. With my elbows braced against my knees, I feed my hands through my hair and inhale a steadying breath. Sitting up, I face them. When I lift my head, Avery is next to me, her hip pressing against mine. Once we took a cab ride together, the three of us, and Avery¡¯s leg bumped mine. The feeling then was electric, but I chalked it up to being in such close proximity with both her and my son. Now, though, I realize what I felt wasn¡¯t her. It was us. Our chemistry when we touch. She ces her hand on my knee and squeezes. ¡°You okay?¡± I nod. ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡± Sutton stands in front of us, hands in his suit pockets. ¡°So while we¡¯re trying to have a baby, you do not finish inside of her.¡± Avery squeezes my knee again. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, that only applies to PIV.¡± My gaze snaps to Avery, who has just used an acronym for penis in vagina. I blink at her, realizing what she means. ¡°Anal sex is one of the things you¡¯d like to explore?¡± She grows worried. ¡°You¡¯re not¡ªyou won¡¯t¨C¡± I shake my head. ¡°I will, and I have.¡± I nce over at my son, powerful and smart, hardworking and gentle. ¡°You..¡± I take a second and choose my words carefully, because I am not looking to shame the man for what he does and doesn¡¯t like. I suppose I just want to make sure I don¡¯t go anywhere he wants to go and hasn¡¯t been. ¡°You¡¯re not open to having anal sex?¡± Sutton shakes his head. ¡°I don¡¯t judge her for wanting to experience it, or for wanting to continue if she enjoys it. But no, I am not open to having anal sex. It¡¯s not for me.¡± I think about thest time I had anal sex, though it¡¯s been years ago now. Tight, so fucking tight and warm, anal sex is a lot like deflowering a virgin the first time you have it. And just like losing your virginity, anal is hard to go slow and not blow right away, because of the intensity. Still, I don¡¯t share any of that with him, nor do I share with them the way my heartbeat picks up and adrenaline rushes through my limbs. The idea of exploring this with delicate, petite, beautiful Avery is almost too arousing to think about while going through rules. ¡°Got it,¡± I nod my head. ¡°So if you¡¯re wanting me to move in, it sounds like this isn¡¯t going to be one night a month.¡± Avery clears her throat. ¡°We were thinking we could tell everyone at work you are getting some stuff done to your ce. You move into the guest room across from ours, and on the evenings in which I want to explore, I¡¯ll leave our door open, and you vice versa. When you¡¯re able and in the mood, you leave your door open, too..¡± I look at Sutton, and he¡¯s already watching me. ¡°As we established, I will watch.¡± I scratch at the back of my head, almost fully erect at the idea of taking Avery bareback. ¡°Why don¡¯t I just wear a condom, if you two are trying?¡± Avery¡¯s voice is gentle but seductive. ¡°I don¡¯t like condoms. I want you bare, the same way I take Sutt.¡± ¡°If ites between us in any way¡ªif Avery starts to feel weird, if either of you develop feelings, if I simply decide it¡¯s not working¡ªwe walk away from this without a word. We agree now that it won¡¯t affect us. That we trust one another, we try this, and we leave before we get hurt, if ites to that.¡± I nod. I don¡¯t want toe between them, but ironically me being between them right now is the only thing keeping them together. ¡°Agree?¡± Sutton asks. I nod my head, then find myself shaking my son¡¯s hand, agreeing to give his wife all the sexual things he cannot. This agreement has brought a whole new meaning to a family affair, which is previously the way we described our sessful outfit at Mercer Properties. ¡°Agree.¡± We both look at Avery. ¡°Agree.¡± ¡°We can discuss and iron out any other details in the next few days,¡± Sutton says, turning his focus on Avery. She gets to her feet, and because I¡¯ve essentially just agreed to letting her own my cock for an undetermined amount of time, I stand, too. ¡°Tonight, I want you,¡± she tells my son, her husband, and even though I should have not expected anything less because it is still technically their wedding night, I have to smile around the knot of disappointment that appears in my gut. Then she reaches for me, and links her fingers with mine. ¡°And you.¡± Holy shit. Here we go. Father Knows Best: Chapter 21 The First Time Avery¡¯s nails drag down my cheeks and throat. ¡°Remember, you watch me. Focus on me.¡± I can¡¯t believe this is happening. I can¡¯t believe we¡¯re doing this. And though zero part of me has ever fantasized about anything like this¡ªor anything far less kinky than this¡ªI¡¯m pleased to discover, as I lower into the ck leather chair in the corner of the room, I¡¯m not dreading it. I wouldn¡¯t have agreed to or gone into detail about this arrangement had I anticipated feeling dread. Still, I worried that the moment things got started, I¡¯d feel sick, full of regret and displeasure, that I¡¯d be the bad guy calling it all off and therefore, the reason my marriage didn¡¯t work. When my father was in the hall, I had a moment where I considered our misalignment, and that it may be too great to solve or remedy. Perhaps my inability to be sexually explorative and kinky is my downfall of my rtionship with Avery, meant to guide me into a different life, into the arms of someone like me¨Csomeone who relies heavily on the basics¡ªmissionary lovemaking, slow tongue kisses, held hands and lower back touches. But for less than a second I tried to envision Avery with someone else, and I wanted to tear the entire world apart with my bare hands just to feel anything but the stabbing pain of loss. And that was a split second of envisioning it, not actually having toe to terms and live without her. This content belongs to f?ndnovel I couldn¡¯t. So now I am here, watching, with ns to have her after. When she has asked for and received what she needs from him, then she¡¯ll be mine, to have once more before she presses her body against mine and finds rest with me. I suppose in a perfect world, I would be enough for her. But we don¡¯t live in a perfect world, we live in San Francisco. And if anyone has to help my wife scratch her sexual itches, Geo Mercer makes the most sense. I trust him now more than I ever have, and with our rtionship steadily getting better, I know he won¡¯t do anything to hurt or betray either of us. In fact, he never has. He¡¯s single, and hasn¡¯t been dating anyone in a while. He¡¯s expressed his fatigue with dating, therefore a hiatus, ording to him, is just fine. He agreed to move in with us, so that Avery didn¡¯t feel like a slut. I told her even if he didn¡¯t move in, and came over just when she called, she wouldn¡¯t be a slut, and that no one would even know. Still, it didn¡¯t sit right with her and that was the first and only thing of all of this I expected to hit a wall on. But he agreed. If you can¡¯t trust and depend on your family, who else is there? Avery smooths her fingers through her hair, the curls nothing more than sea-stung waves at this point, but they look gorgeous. She looks gorgeous, in a strappy white teddy and whitece garter, thosece-top thigh-highs entuating the gap between her thighs. Out of her heels, she presses to her toes, lengthening her spine as she loops her hands around my father¡¯s neck for the very first time. My hands clench around the armrest of the chair, and my heart jumps behind my ribs. Sweat beads along my forehead as she smooths her fingers around his cor, the same easy way she does to me when she¡¯s helping me tie my tie. He groans when her fingerse to his chest, skating over his pecs before working in a vertical line, unbuttoning him. The quiet whoosh of her opening his shirt makes me shift slightly in my seat, still gripping the handrest like I¡¯m about to beunched into space. ¡°You gifted the plug tonight,¡± my dad says to her, and I tip my head to the side, looking at him as he runs his fingers up her bare arm. I may have grownfortable with calling him Dad in recent weeks, but watching him touch Avery, knowing he¡¯s about to have my wife in ways I myself have never ever had her, I feel more inclined to call him father in this setting. ¡°Does that mean that you were hoping for anal y?¡± He asks, walking his fingers over the strap of her teddy, gently tugging it down. My breath catches. One more strap and he¡¯s a tug away from seeing Avery¡¯s breasts. I clear my throat, and their eyes veer to me. ¡°You okay, Sutt?¡± Avery asks, stepping away from my father to fall to her knees at my feet. She runs consoling andforting fingers up my thighs, and I lean forward to kiss her lips. With her face in my hands, I nod. ¡°I¡¯m okay. Continue.¡± She returns to my father, who puts both of his hands on her now, gently shoving down the remaining straps. Her long blonde hair curtains her bare back, and I know I should only watch her, but I can¡¯t help but look at his face as he takes her in. He brings an aged hand to her chest, his eyes rolling closed as he cups her breast, the most perfect handful of tit I¡¯ve had the pleasure of holding. ¡°Avery,¡± he groans, and my eyes lock onto her hand, which drops between them, to his crotch. Tracking her movement, I watch with a held breath and a tight, hot groan as she cups my father¡¯s cock, using her thumb to trace the edges of his head. He brings his palm to the side of her throat, cupping it there, thumb stroking her pulsepoint as she strokes and touches him through his dress pants. ¡°Yes,¡± she finally says, her singr word fighting through my father¡¯s now steady rain of moans. ¡°I am hoping for anal y. Will you y with me, you know,¡± she says, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper, ¡°back there?¡± My father¡¯s hand slides over Avery¡¯s naked ass, and he squeezes, a lecherous groan erupting from his chest. ¡°I will.¡± He looks around a little, then back to her, and I sit in my chair, watching the way they fall into intimate touch and quiet conversation so easily, as if they were meant to touch each other and know one another this way. ¡°Do you have any lube?¡± my father asks, urging Avery to slip from his hold and return to her bag, where she rummages around for a minute or two before producing a huge bottle of lube. My father chuckles as she brings it to him, the entire thing probably the height of her forearm. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of lube.¡± Her voice is raspy and sexy when she replies, ¡°I have a lot of fantasies.¡± Another groan, though to be fair I don¡¯t know if it was me or him, or maybe both of us. He reaches behind him and tugs off his white shirt, exposing his bare chest, consisting of abs, tanned skin and silvering trimmed hair. Avery runs her fingers over his chest, and leans forward, kissing him along his corbone before my father captures her face in his hand, and brings her mouth to his. Their first real kiss is shocking. My mouth parts, and I can¡¯t look away. With one hand on her jaw, the other on her ass, she fills his mouth with whimpers and mewls as their tongues collide and crash, Avery¡¯s fingers getting lost in the back of his hair. The kiss is erotic, and definitely the type of kiss thates before a feral, rough session of some kind. When he pulls back and starts pumping lube into his hand, I let my knees spread further apart, sinking back a bit more in the chair. Avery gets the toy from the box, and looks over at me. She looks different right now. Like an Avery I¡¯ve never met. Lighter and happier, more carefree and sated. I don¡¯t know. But I return her smile with a small one of my own. My father rolls the toy in his palm, coating it in lube as he speaks in a low, smoky tone to Avery,manding her to take her ce on the floor, on her hands and knees. Facing me, she turns and looks over her shoulder at my father, who is positioned behind her, on his knees. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna get naked?¡± He shakes his head. ¡°Not yet. In a minute I will, but you¡¯ll help me. You want to help, don¡¯t you?¡± He strokes thick fingers through the hair framing her face, and my chest squeezes at the tender moment. Avery nods. ¡°I do.¡± He pats her cheek. ¡°Good girl, now turn around and face your husband.¡± She turns, and our eyes collide. Mine suddenly sting, the moment brimming with emotion and excitement, and maybe a little fear, too. But I cling to the arm rests and tip my chin to my chest, smiling down at my gorgeous wife, left in nothing but a garter and thigh highs, on all fours in front of me. ¡°Hi, beautiful.¡± She smiles. ¡°Hi, Sutt.¡± ¡°It¡¯s going to be cold, then it¡¯s going to burn. Once it¡¯s all the way inside, just give your body a minute to adjust. It¡¯s gonna go from feeling like a foreign object to slowly, feeling good.¡± Avery bobs her head. I can¡¯t see what he can see, we didn¡¯t n for this to happen and set up a mirror or anything like that. Truthfully, I don¡¯t want to see. I¡¯ve never been a man who has wanted to explore anal sex, giving or receiving. It¡¯s simply not for me. But watching my wife get something she¡¯s always wanted, being able to experience her every reactionary wince, whimper or sigh¨Cit¡¯s almost better and more intimate watching her take the plug from him than it would be if I put it in myself. ¡°How are you doing?¡± I ask her as my father begins moving behind her. She gasps at the same time he moans, and I realize he¡¯s using his fingers to get her ready for the toy, smearing cold lubricant everywhere. ¡°Good,¡± she says, panting a little, her knees sliding apart, palms syed over the floor. ¡°It¡¯s c-cold but good.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got a beautiful ass, Avery,¡± my father says, and I keep my eyes locked on her face when he says it. Her cheeks flush, and she tugs her bottom lip under her top teeth, shy and slightly impish despite the fact she¡¯s getting rubbed while nude and on all fours. Even in this exposed position, she still has a way of exuding ss. He gives her cheek a swat and the little moan that spills from her lips gives me a halfie. ¡°You ready?¡± my father asks. Holding my eyes, she nods her head, then lifts one hand from the floor where it¡¯s braced, and reaches for mine. Interlocking our fingers together over my knee, she sinks her eyes into my face as my father sinks the toy inside of her. She lunges forward, gasps, even lets out a cry of pain which has my spine stiff and my eyes wide. ¡°Is she okay? Are you okay?¡± I ask, our hands still linked. My father smoothes both of his hands over the globes of her ass before sinking into her hips. She jerks back into his groin and whimpers, our hands pulling apart. ¡°She¡¯s okay,¡± my father says. ¡°You¡¯re okay, right? It burns a little but it feels good already, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Avery nods, staying on her hands and knees as my father gets to his feet,ing to stand in front of her. She waits, and so do I, as he takes off his belt slowly, lying it across the bed. His hands at his fly, the sound of his zipper descending has my heart racing, and I stay focused on Avery¡¯s gaze, centered on his hands. He reaches inside of his cks, and though her head provides cover to what he¡¯s doing, I know in a few seconds he¡¯ll be out of his pants, exposed, right in front of her eyes. And mouth. I swallow against the sudden knot of jealousy in my throat, and let my eyes fall closed for a moment. A memory shes through my mind, one of Avery, tugging her blonde hair aside as she leaned over myp, sucking my cock into her mouth for the first time ever. She¡¯s good at oral sex. The best I¡¯ve ever had. Avery is gentle in the way she cradles my cock with her tongue, sucking on the tip when she knows I need aposure break. The way she drags her fingertips over my balls, tugging them when I grow close to orgasm, or how she traces the veins in my shaft with her tongue¨Cthat always makes me impossibly hard. She goes hard and deep on it when I¡¯m nearing the edge, but otherwise is erotic and tender. My eyes pop open, settling on my father¡¯s fingers in her hair as he guides her mouth onto his cock. He thrusts his hips forward, as she braces her hands on his groin. I stare at the wedding ring glittering on her finger as she gags and mewls on him. ¡°Ah, there, there¡¯s the back,¡± he says, stroking hair away from her face. ¡°Reach back, pull yourself open, show Sutt what¡¯s making you feel so good, won¡¯t you, darling?¡± Darling. I wondered if some personal nickname or term of endearment would shake loose from all this change, and all I¡¯d hoped was that it was something new, not a name I¡¯ve used, and that he didn¡¯t make it sound better. I realize as he guides her down on his length that there¡¯s nothing that he can do that is better than what I can do, because we¡¯re providing elementallypletely different things. Different experiences. Her ring is what I see first¨Cthe one glittering on her finger, the stone that called her name when I spotted it beneath the ss six months ago. She peers back at me, over her shoulder, darkshes contrasting the pale velvet of her cheeks as she blinks. I wink then she faces him again. He fills her mouth and throat, he holds her shoulders and she reaches back, gripping each bare cheek with a hand. Heat explodes in my groin as she pulls herself open, exposing the ck rubber end of the plug, her ass shiny from the extra lubricant. My father guides her up and down on his cock, his shoulders flexing and torquing from his guidance. She makes a few noises¡ªbreathing, gagging, enjoying. My groin tightens at the sight of the plug nestled between her cheeks, the bulky base inside of her, tucked away. She lets go, and braces her hands on the floor. I focus on his hand in her hair, the silky tangles woven between his tanned fingers as he nudges her down and up on him. With his cock in her throat, he reaches forward, making her gag as he swats her bare bottom. ¡°Look at that,¡± he tells me, though he doesn¡¯t look anywhere but Avery¡¯s face. ¡°Look at your wife¡¯s perfect ass.¡± He takes her by the chin, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. ¡°You ready for me?¡± She nods, and he hollows her throat with a tug of his hips, gripping himself at the base. ¡°Turn around, face your husband and hold his hand.¡± Before she obeys, he bends at the waist, his lips hovering right in front of hers. ¡°Show me what I taste like,¡± he rumbles, and her mouth seals to him a hot second. She moans and he swallows it, and a momentter, Avery¡¯s fingers are woven with mine, draped over my knee. She blinks up at me, pink cheeks and swollen lips, so much happiness in her expression. ¡°You ready for it?¡± I ask her softly, leaning forward to trace the angelic curve of her profile with the back of my knuckles. She nods. ¡°Yes.¡± I lift my eyes from my wife, and pin them to the man behind my wife. He¡¯s stroking as he peers at Avery¡¯s shaved, wet pussy, put on view by the arch of her back and pop of her hips. Smoothing his fingers down her ass, he must find the plug because she gasps a little, then nods for him to continue. I watch the shiny plug roll in a half circle for a moment after my father plucks it from Avery¡¯s ass and tosses it aside. He notches himself behind her, on his knees, silvering hair wild and messy. ¡°Remember how big I was in your mouth?¡± He asks her, his eyesing to mine. I don¡¯t feel anger or jealousy but rather, pride that he gets to discover these erotic, sexual parts of my perfect, incredible wife. ¡°I¡¯m gonna feel a lot bigger back here.¡± He pumps more lube and strokes himself, before asking, ¡°Are you ready?¡± She¡¯s sucked his cock. It¡¯s toote to say ¡°there¡¯s no going back now¡± but as our eyese together over Avery¡¯s bent over, bare body, I realize that this is it. If we take this step, there is no undoing it. No pretending. No going back. We¡¯re forever different after this. I give him the nod to continue as Avery whimpers for my father to ¡°Do it, please.¡± He thrusts his hips, fingertips sunk into her flesh as he guides her back down on his length. Avery cries out. My father groans. And I let out one, long, exacerbated sigh. ¡°It¡¯ll hurt worse if I don¡¯t move, so I¡¯m going to start moving, okay?¡± My father asks, and Avery bobs her head, her fingers so tight around mine that I smooth my thumb over her white-knuckled grip. I take her chin, and lift her eyes to mine. ¡°You look gorgeous right now,¡± I tell her, swiping at the tear that rolls down her cheek. ¡°How do you feel?¡± She bites into her bottom lip and I look down at her breasts swaying with each thrust from behind. I reach between us and grab one of her breasts, kissing her as I do. She moans into my mouth, whimpering and sloppy. ¡°So good. It hurts but I like it, so, so much.¡± She turns, looking over her shoulder at my father, whose eyes have not left the ce where his body joins hers. ¡°I need my clit touched,¡± she says to him, whose eyese to mine, searching for approval. We talked about a few things, but we didn¡¯t discuss everything. I nod. He reaches around, and his eyes roll back as his hipse to a stop. Avery¡¯s head falls forward, and the only noise in the room is my father¡¯s fingers between Avery¡¯s wet pussy lips, stroking through her arousal. After a moment, he starts to move again, fucking her harder, his strokes more hurried, less cautious. ¡°Yes,¡± Avery moans, and I take her chin in my hand, and force her face to mine as she screams her pleasure. ¡°Fuck me and rub me, Geo, oh, just like that.¡± Fuck me and rub me. My cock thickens. I¡¯ve never been the recipient of her dirty words, and I¡¯m not sure that those hurled at me in the heat of the moment would send me over the edge. But my father picks up his pace, sweat glistening on his forehead as his groin ps her ass, his breathing chaotic and rough. He likes it, and watching him take pleasure from her, and milk every drop of pleasure out of him¡ªI nce down and find myself hard, my cock shamelessly pressed against the fly of my cks, begging for my attention. I cross my legs, hiding it, somewhat confused by just how much I enjoyed watching the two people I love most take and give each other what they need. It¡¯s erotic, far more so than I expected. ¡°Mm,¡± he groans. ¡°Your ass is fucking tight, hell.¡± He ps her bare bottom, knocking a moan free from her. Her hand slips from mine, but she ws at my thigh, resting her hand on my knee as her eyes find mine, wet and wide. ¡°Sutt, I¡¯m gonnae,¡± she tells me, then rests her cheek against my knee, holding onto me and the floor as my father ms into her harder and harder, chasing his own orgasm. I stroke hair off her face, and slip my thumb into her mouth, and she sucks it as her eyes snap shut, unbelievable pleasure taking hold of her. Her body trembles as she moans on my thumb, my father growling and groaning, one hand on her hip, the other still reaching around, ying with her pussy. ¡°You¡¯re going to make mee, this ass is too good, so tight,¡± my father growls, just as Avery¡¯s eyes open again, locking onto mine. ¡°I¡¯m close, Sutt, oh my gosh, I¡¯m close,¡± she moans, holding her cheek to my knee. ¡°You are so sexy, Avery,¡± I tell her as I watch her face twist with desire. ¡°You¡¯re taking it so well,¡± I tell her, surprised at how cooperative and agreeable she was while he fit himself inside. Avery is a small woman, and while I¡¯ve never been where he is, I can only imagine how it feels for her. ¡°You¡¯re doing so good, baby, I love you so much.¡± Tears leak down her cheeks. Her hips buck a little, and she subtly grinds down on him a bit more, clearly seeking more depth, more pration. He tips forward, giving her more, making her eyes roll back. ¡°She¡¯sing, Sutt. Her tiny little ass is clenching all around me, fuck she¡¯sing hard,¡± he tells me, thick lines of strain forming in his throat as he clenches his jaw. I told my father he could finish inside of her, so I¡¯m surprised when he pulls out, and ps his cock to her ass cheek, stroking his release out over her bare back, grunting and twitching. She sighs, lids fluttering as she smiles up at me, enjoying the warm spray of his cum over her flesh. Our mouths find one another, and we¡¯re so lost in our kiss that when it breaks, my father has already gotten to his feet, tucked himself away and wiped Avery up. He¡¯s in the bathroom, washing the plug he took out of her ass when I find him, and I stand in the doorway, staring at his reflection until my presence startles him. We lock eyes in the mirror. ¡°Thank you,¡± I tell him, unsure of how to adequately thank him for giving my wife something so intimate. ¡°For agreeing to this, moreso, but for tonight. Not just now but earlier, too.¡± I stroke my hand through my hair and shake my head, fatigue of the day and emotions of the night causing my shoulders to droop. ¡°Thank you for everything, Dad.¡± He ces the freshly washed plug upside down on a clean hand towel and points to it. ¡°Don¡¯t put it away until it¡¯s fully dried, and it should be stored in the bag it came with.¡± He extends his hand to me, and I take it, and we shake. ¡°It¡¯s a strange thing to be saying you¡¯re wee to but you¡¯re wee,¡± he says, straightening. The partial smile slips from his lips as he stands up straighter. ¡°Thank you for trusting me enough to be the solution.¡± I smile then step aside. ¡°I think it¡¯s okay if you and Avery have your own goodbye.¡± The subtext sits between the lines, and he reads it easily, pping a hand to my shoulder, nodding. He disappears into the suite, and there¡¯s hushed words, Avery¡¯s softughter, and then quiet. Peering around the corner, I see her face in his hands, their lips intertwined, their eyes closed. When they¡¯ve ended their embrace, I walk him to the door and watch him step into the hall, and stride to the elevator, to go back to his room. Sliding the chain on the door, I turn to find Avery, disrobed again,pletely naked in front of me, wearing nothing but her ring. ¡°Kiss me,¡± I tell her. Rocking to her toes, she kisses me, and it¡¯s better than the kiss at the altar. It¡¯s slow and tender, and she feeds her fingers through the back of my hair, reminding my body how on edge I am. ¡°Make love to me, Sutt,¡± she whispers, and those are thest four words she speaks for the next hour. I scoop her up, cing her across the bed. She watches me with hungry eyes as I undress, stripping down to just my boxers. I move for the light, but Avery makes a noise from somewhere in her throat, a hesitation, a blip, something that stops me. I turn, taking in the sight of Avery¡¯s bare breasts and pinkened pussy as she¡¯s stretched over the mattress, golden hair strewn over the pillows. She¡¯s a goddess in the flesh, perfection personified, and I know exactly what she wants. Leaving the light on, I shove down my boxers and ignore the cramp of difort that numbs me from head to toe at beingpletely nude. I reach for my cock and stroke it, my skin burning from her eyes being on me. Crawling over her, I slide over her, into her, filling her body with mine, filling my fingers with her soft hair. We don¡¯t talk, and I don¡¯t whisper things to her. But I fuck her slow, rolling and rutting my hips without cadence or reason, taking my time. She moans and whimpers beneath me, running her fingertips over my face, tracing my lips and touching my eyelids. She cries some, tears leaking out as I tease, withdrawing and sinking in, over and over. I reach between us, and stroke her soft little pearl¨Cthe hot bundle of nerves at her apex, the way I always do, but this time, when she unravels for me, Ie undone, too. I see her cheek on my knee again in my mind as she unspools beneath me, clutching my shoulders, grabbing at my arms. I think of how good he made her feel a few moments ago, and how good I¡¯m making her feel now, and when she tightens, I let go. Thrusting deeper, Ie hard, my eyes snapping shut as she clenches up all around me, milking me, begging for my baby, starved for my cum. When she¡¯s exhausted, full, and limp beneath me, I slide out of her, and bring a cool towel between her legs, absorbing my spilled seed. I flop down next to her, and catch her hand, bringing it to my lips with a kiss. ¡°I love you,¡± she says quietly. ¡°I love you, too,¡± I tell her, my voice soft. And for the first time in our lives, we fall asleep together naked. Father Knows Best: Chapter 22 The Morning After Usually, hotel showers never run cold. But I¡¯ve stood under this spray for so long, I¡¯ve finally found the limit. Reaching for the knob, I give it a twist, and shut it off. Did I wash? Surely after being in here for an hour I washed. At the beginning, maybe? I don¡¯t remember, but I grab the towel from the hook and dry myself before stepping out, the conditioned air stinging my senses. With wet feet, I walk out of the bathroom and find the room service cart, which I ordered before the shower. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I pull the cart toward me and pour myself a cup of coffee. The first sip is sobering, and I¡¯m not drunk. My veins heat and my body perks, and I take another sip then another, and after a minute, I¡¯m sweating and my tongue is burned, and my mug is empty. I refill it, and my phone rings. I look around the room, unsure where it is. I came back to my room around four in the morning, and stripped down, sleeping naked. I move around the bed as the monotonous ringtone drones on, spotting my pants on the ground. I grab them and dig through the pockets, but they¡¯re empty. Then I see it on the ground, vibrating in a circle along the pattern in the carpet, my brother¡¯s name and photo staring back at me. I snatch it up and flop down across the bed again. ¡°Hey.¡± ¡°Good morning,¡± he greets, loud and cheerful, per usual. ¡°We made a tee time for ten this morning. Thought you and I could y some golf before we get back to reality. Make a half-day of vacation out of it.¡± I yawn, because ording to my phone, it¡¯s only eight fifteen in the morning. I¡¯m too old to thrive or even human off of three hours of sleep. ¡°It¡¯s Sunday. We don¡¯t have work today, anyway.¡± ¡°Maybe you don¡¯t. But bars are always open¨Cespecially mine.¡± There¡¯s a small ttering in the background, then, ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be difficult, it¡¯s only pulp. Just drink the juice, Kat.¡± His voice returns to me. ¡°C¡¯mon, Geo, don¡¯t be like that. Golf with me.¡± My mind is a mess this morning. I guess I didn¡¯t think this far down the line, to the next morning, to the following day, to whateveres after. Now though, the idea of seeing Sutton and Avery sets my nerves on edge. Fuck. This was a mistake. ¡°You there?¡± Ford asks. I stroke a hand over my hair, damp from the shower, then down my face, my beard still benefitting from yesterday¡¯s pre-ceremony spa treatment and trim. ¡°I¡¯m here. I¡¯m¡­ too tired to golf today,¡± I tell him, and that¡¯s not a lie. I¡¯m fucking exhausted. But the real truth is? Ford would know something is wrong. And I would tell him if he prodded. I trust my brother. It¡¯s not about that. It¡¯s about Avery and Sutton. Would they want Ford to know? Would they be okay with Ford knowing? I don¡¯t know. There¡¯s so much I don¡¯t know because the three of us jumped into a really weird, menage-shaped swimming pool without being able to read the pool rules. I can¡¯t risk unleashing this secret if they don¡¯t want that. ¡°Please don¡¯t make me take Kat,¡± he teases. A soft knock at the hotel door startles me, and despite the private volume, Ford hears it. ¡°Room service?¡± I look at the room service cart. ¡°Yeah. I gotta go. Good luck on the course.¡± I end the call and snatch the hotel robe from the closet, pulling it on quickly before opening the room door. ¡°Good morning,¡± Sutton greets, nodding his head. ¡°Mornin¡¯,¡± Avery joins him, smiling cheerfully, her arm looped through his. She peers around me, into my unkempt room. ¡°Can wee in?¡± I step back, and the door opens with me, and they walk past,ing to sit on the unused bed in the room. I sit on my bed, across from them. Sutton is wearing jeans, a pointelle knit short-sleeved shirt with the cor turned down, and white sneakers. Avery, whose xen hair was between my fingers and in my handsst night, has it up, a messy knot on top of her head. In a white sundress and three-inch tform espadrille sandals, my mind struggles to stay focused. Has she always been this beautiful? Sutton looks at my robe, then me. ¡°Just shower? Nice. I really liked the water pressure here.¡± I shrug one shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re in the penthouse. You shouldn¡¯t have a singleint.¡± He smiles. ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± Avery reaches out, patting my knee. ¡°We wanted to talk to you about the uing week.¡± They¡¯re leaving for their honeymoon to Bora Bora this afternoon. I was CC¡¯d and BCC¡¯d on too many client meetings in thest month, to prepare for Sutton and Avery¡¯s week away. They¡¯re so core and crucial to everyday processes at Mercer Properties that nning for the honeymoon required a month of rescheduling. I scratch at the back of my head. ¡°Everything¡¯s taken care of at Mercer, you both know that.¡± Has she thought aboutst night? Did she wake up and remember that she let me inside of her sweet, innocent, little ass? Did my son wake up this morning¡ªthe day after his wedding¡ªand immediately get pped in the face with the memory of his father plugging and fucking his wife? ¡°Geo?¡± Avery questions, her eyebrows sinking, expression a bit confused. ¡°Huh?¡± My son nods. ¡°We know work is taken care of. That¡¯s not what we wanted to talk about.¡± He gets to his feet and starts touching things on the room service cart. The domed stainless lid clinks against the pitcher of water and the slosh of coffee refilling my mug somewhat grounds me. I stare at Avery, who is watching me, expressionless, her cerulean eyes serious. Sutton returns with a te of scrambled eggs and a mug of coffee. ¡°Here.¡± I sip the coffee and set it between the two beds on the nightstand, then bnce the te on my legs, taking a bite of eggs. ¡°We wanted to talk to you about the honeymoon,¡± Sutton says, checking his cell phone screen before shoving it back into his pocket. I sip the coffee and put it back down, taking another few bites of eggs. I didn¡¯t want to eat. I wanted to sit and stare at the wall and wonder if I just ruined all of our lives. But the eggs are fluffy. ?????? ???? find~novel ¡°Thanks,¡± I tell my son, tipping the te to indicate what I¡¯m referring to. He bypasses thement. ¡°We want you to join us. For the week.¡± I blink at him, then look at Avery, whose lip is pinned between her teeth in absolute suspense. ¡°It¡¯s your honeymoon.¡± Avery nods. ¡°We know.¡± I slide the te onto the bed and reach for the coffee, keeping it between my hands. ¡°You want me for fun, I get that, but if Ie on the honeymoon, I¡¯m impeding your rtionship. I don¡¯t want to do that. And I don¡¯t want to live like I¡¯m a part of it, either. That¡¯s not what we¡¯ve discussed.¡± I hate that the wordse out cold and biting, as evident by the reactive stoicism on both of their faces. But I have to protect myself. I adore Avery. I don¡¯t believe I need to say that again. And being with the two of them in a social sense is easy. Last night, this seemed perfect. Obvious, even. I was a savior. This morning, with sunshine pouring through the curtains and hot coffee scalding my hands, this all seems¡­ ¡°Don¡¯t say it was a mistake,¡± Avery says, her voice wobbly, chin, too. ¡°I¡¯ve been going crazy in my head for thest year, loving Sutton so much but realizing that all the stuff I want with him may be something I don¡¯t get. And I came to terms with that. I learned to be okay with that. But thenst night, I got the taste for having both what I want and who I need.¡± She pauses, her eyes wordlessly begging as they sink into mine, wide and wet. ¡°Please, Geo, pleasee with us.¡± ¡°Sutton has every right to make his entire life about you,¡± I tell her slowly, ¡°and no one would judge him for rearranging his life to make his wife happy.¡± My son drops his gaze to his shoes, but Avery still blinks at me, hope swimming in her blue eyes. ¡°But my life isn¡¯t about you, and living to give you what you need.¡± I take a pause, my eyes searching hers, hoping she can see and sense where all this ising from, but I don¡¯t know, because the most I know about Avery, I learned through Roberta, Chanel, Jon, Brandon¨Ceveryone but the source. Or the man closest to her, because just a few weeks ago, things with us were all still fucked up. And now? I¡¯m their bandage. But everyone knows, you don¡¯t need a bandage forever. ¡°It makes no sense for a father to join his son and daughter-inw on their honeymoon. And I won¡¯t start a habit of lying about where I am or who I¡¯m with¡ªI¡¯ve been on the receiving end of that, and it¡¯s awful.¡± Avery doesn¡¯t bat an eye, as if potentially they expected my immediate rejection of their idea. ¡°I hear you, Geo, I do. I don¡¯t want you to think I¡¯m trying to steamroll you. Or that we¡¯re trying to steamroll you. You don¡¯t have toe, and you¡¯re right, we asked you to be with us intimately, not for you to stand as a third in our rtionship. And I¡¯m sorry for making you feel like you have to make your whole life about me, and if it feels that way, please do decline.¡± She switches beds,ing to sit by my side, her thigh bumping mine. ¡°But we¡¯d love for you to join us. Yes, we¡¯d spend the full week together. But Sutton and I discussed it this morning and we¡¯d both really like to have you there. I¡¯ve got some spa appointments and some massages booked, too. On those days, you guys can golf, or grab a cabana on the beach. A rxing trip for everyone.¡± She slides her hand over my robe-covered thigh, and squeezes. ¡°And in the evenings, we¡¯d like you to join us. And when Sutton booked the room, he only booked one, so for the week, the three of us would share the California King. But I¡¯d take the middle so it wouldn¡¯t be weird.¡± I blink at both of them. ¡°No, we wouldn¡¯t want it to be weird.¡± Sutton snorts. Avery giggles, and after a beat, the three of us break the tension in a roar ofughter. When it settles, she smiles at me, and squeezes my thigh again. I clear my throat. ¡°We never discussed some pretty crucial things.¡± Avery shrugs. ¡°You can¡¯te inside me when I¡¯m trying to get pregnant. What else is there?¡± My lower half seizes from the easy way those implications tumble from her lips. Can¡¯te inside me when I¡¯m trying to get pregnant means there¡¯s a time where she wants me inside of her, and he¡¯s okay with it. That makes my mind get tingly and my chest grow tight. I face my son. ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡± He nods. ¡°We¡¯re sure.¡± He nces at Avery, then back to me, adding, ¡°and we considered that you wouldn¡¯t want to lie about where you are this week, and we¡¯re both fine with anyone and everyone knowing that you joined us.¡± My brows furrow, and I split a confused nce between the two of them. ¡°What¡¯s the reasoning? Aren¡¯t you concerned people will think that Avery and I are having an affair?¡± I direct the question to Sutton, but look at Avery just as much. Sutton, my uptight, rule following, non-experimental son, shrugs. ¡°The reasoning is whatever we want, or nothing at all. Who is entitled to a reason? And I know you¡¯re not having an affair with Avery, and I know Avery loves me, so I¡¯m unconcerned about what others think.¡± I nce at the open suitcase on the floor and look around the room. ¡°I don¡¯t have enough clothing or things to go to Bora Bora.¡± Sutton nods. ¡°The car is here, ready to take you back home to grab things, and thene back for us. We¡¯re going to pay the bill forst night and talk to the event staff, make sure the gifts are loaded and headed to our ce, and when that¡¯s all done, you¡¯ll be back and we can head to the airport together.¡± My heart is racing, my mind pounding, groin throbbing. ¡°Alright.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Avery squeals, steepling her hands under her chin, blinking at me with those wide blue eyes that twist me up inside. I offered myself up to help them, to save my son from heartache, to be the father that I failed to be years ago. But the way my heart is rocking behind my ribs at Avery¡¯s excitement makes me wonder if this is a mistake. Still, I¡¯m a glutton for punishment, and her smile makes me a junkie¡ªand I need more of her sweet disposition, happiness and levity. Against my judgement, knowing the copious amount of phone calls I¡¯ll have to make to ease my sudden absence, I smile. ¡°I¡¯m in.¡± Father Knows Best: Chapter 23 The Honeymoon I do indeed spend hours on the phone during travel to work out a way for me to be gone, but I get it sorted out. Travel turns us to mush, and the excitement and anticipation is shelved when we get to our bungalow and immediately lie down on the bed and fall asleep. Very little sleep the night prior, the rush to get to the airport, and all the travel keeps us motionlessly asleep on the bed for several hours, and I¡¯m the first to wake. It¡¯s dark out, the reflection of the moon on the water glowing behind the half-pulled curtains in our room. I slowly get to my feet, careful not to disturb Avery and Sutton, who are still sleeping. I tug the curtain back and take in the effervescent blue water, the moon casting an ethereal shine over our bungalow, and the other bungalows surrounding ours. The water ripples quietly, and a gentle breeze lifts, curling against my face, tossing my hair back just a bit. It¡¯s beautiful here, and the perfect ce for a honeymoon. Guilt. It never left but it rears its head inside me again. Should I be here? This is a beautiful bungalow over the water, beneath the moonlight. And the days will be spent with cold water licking every curve of Avery¡¯s body, her feet in the sand, her supple body strewn over this mattress at night. I turn away from the window to discover Sutton waking up, and Avery stirring, too. Her hair is stuck to her cheek when she sits up, and her eyes are tired. ¡°I¡¯m gonna catch a shower, unless you¡¯d like to shower first?¡± Sutton asks Avery. She shakes her head, and repositions herself in the middle of the bed, her head resting against the wall. Sutton grabs a few items from his bag and slips into the bathroom, made private by the use of a small pocket door. I slide my hands in my pockets and tip my head toward the door. ¡°You don¡¯t want to join him?¡± I ask, a sliver of awkwardness wiggling down my spine. Embarking on this with them both here and back at home, when I move into their ce, surely means lots of these awkward moments. I¡¯m trading those moments for time with her, and it¡¯s a fair trade. She smiles, and despite the day of travel resting on all of our shoulders, Avery still looks beautiful. Her smile makes me smile, too. ¡°I always want to join him,¡± she says, fingerbing a few strands of hair. ¡°But Sutton likes his privacy.¡± I nod my head. ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± She smirks. ¡°Are you surprised by his modesty?¡± I shake my head. ¡°Not really. He was always very private as a kid. Expected everyone else to be private, too. That¡¯s just his way.¡± ¡°His style,¡± she reframes, and I nod my head, because I like the way that sounds a lot better. ¡°To each their own.¡± She pulls the sheet over her bare legs, then pats the mattress next to her. I take a seat and peer down at her. ¡°Kind of weird how fast things changed between us, right?¡± she asks quietly, and I sink into the pillows further, tipping my headfortably against hers. ¡°Yeah, it is.¡± I move my arm, draping it over her thigh, letting my hand rest over her knee. I smooth my fingers over the soft, shaved skin. ¡°Can I ask you something?¡± She catches my hand on her knee and weaves our fingers together. My heart beat picks up. Holding hands is so much more personal than so many forms of sex. It¡¯s intimate and private, but out in the open, too. My chest erupts in pebbled skin, and the back of my neck grows hot. ¡°Ask away,¡± she says, admiring our hands together. ¡°When you decide you have your fill of this, and you¡¯ve sated your needs beyond reasonable doubt, will you please make sure you tell me? Don¡¯t humor me. Don¡¯t either of you ever do anything for me. This is for the two of you, so when you¡¯re ready to end it and return to our traditional roles, please just¡­ tell me, okay? I promise you both that we can do that. Return to what it was.¡± My chest burns as the words leave me. I need to know that when she¡¯s done, we end this and return to our prior dynamic, that we all have something left to return to. She opens her hand, breaking our connection, using the tip of her pointer finger to trace lines on my palm. ¡°Who says there¡¯s an end and not a new beginning?¡± The pocket door slides open, and Sutton, along with a cloud of steam, steps out. He nces over at us, and Avery doesn¡¯t pull her hand away or seem startled whatsoever. She continues to stroke her finger over my palm, casually, as she takes in Sutton, wearing sleep pants and nothing else. ¡°What if we order some champagne and steaks and spend the first evening in? Catching up on rest?¡± she asks, looking between us. Sutton rakes a hand through his hair, sighing. ¡°Sounds good to me. That shower was good but¡­ hell, I¡¯m exhausted.¡± Avery and I trade off showers after that, and when I¡¯m out, I join them on the bed, Avery in the center. She passes me a champagne flute, and I take a drink, eyeing the domed tes that were delivered while I was showering. ¡°How was the steak?¡± I ask them, sipping my drink. She shakes her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. We were waiting for you.¡± Sutton gets to his feet and rolls the cart to the bed, dragging two chairs with him. He positions them around the small cart, and I get off the bed, taking a seat in the chair facing the bed, assuming Sutton and I will take the ufortable chairs and let Avery sit on the edge. She stands next to us, and Sutton takes the chair I assumed he¡¯d take. He nods to the bed. ¡°I¡¯ll cut your steak, have a seat.¡± She rolls her lips together, and her eyes slide to mine. Immediately, I know something more is on her mind. ¡°What do you need, Avery?¡± I ask, discovering that those are my favorite five words. ¡°I was thinking,¡± she says, without preamble or hesitation, which is sexy as hell. ¡°Maybe you could plug me before we eat, just for fun?¡± Sutton is motionless at the table, his hands in hisp as he looks between us. It¡¯s still surreal the trust he extends to me, and because of that, I nod my head. ¡°Okay.¡± She returns with the toy and the lube, then drops her terry robe. The white fabric at her feet is nearly dizzying, and I take my time letting my eyes roam over her naked body. Plucky, darkened nipples, her breasts a perfect handful, her pussy already pink, the lips puffy and swollen¡ª ¡°Avery,¡± I sigh, holding her by one hip as I survey the beautyid out before me. ¡°You are just too beautiful.¡± She smiles at me. ¡°He¡¯s right. You¡¯re perfect,¡± Sutton adds. She hands me the items and I pump my hand full of lube, rolling the plug in my palm. Her eyes lock onto mine, and desire burns down my spine. ¡°Turn around,¡± I say quietly, my cock already throbbing, anticipating her tight little hole, the smooth globes of her perfect ass, seeing her delicate hands hold herself open for me. Fuck. She does, bending slightly at the waist. Her baby pink fingernails make me groan as she reaches behind herself, filling her own palms with her cheeks, pulling herself apart. Her hole blinks and I groan, remembering the vice grip of her ass around my cock. Sex hasn¡¯t felt that way¨Cblindingly intense and beautiful¨Cin years. ¡°Are you ready?¡± I ask, sliding one of my hands over hers, bracing it there. Sutton leans over, and collects her chin in his grip, making her face him. ¡°Look at me while you take it from him.¡± My skin heats, and bumps erupt over every creamy inch of Avery¡¯s flesh. She nods her head, whispering, ¡°Yes, Sutt.¡± Aligning the narrowed end with her body, I move the plug in a circr motion gently, easing it in. She gasps as her ass seals around the toy, epting it into her body. Sutton kisses her lips while she groans, struggling to adjust to the intrusion. A momentter, after I¡¯ve washed, we¡¯re tucked under the table, sipping champagne and eating steak. Avery eats in the nude. I have an erection the size of my forearm the entire time. After, she crawls onto the bed, syed out across her back. ¡°What do you want tonight, my dear?¡± my son asks his wife, who is now seductively stroking her lean fingers over her bare belly. I would love to see my cum sshed there. I would love to see my cum painting any and every part of Avery Mercer. Mercer. The fact she shares myst name and has invited me into her body doesn¡¯t escape me. ¡°I want Geo inside me, from behind. I want to feel the pressure of being plugged and fucked at the same time.¡± She holds her husband¡¯s eyes, and at first I think a privatemunication passes between them, but then, as I too look at my son, I realize it¡¯s something else. She¡¯s giving him an opportunity to step in, to change his mind, to tell her and me, too, that he can¡¯t do this. Except he only nods and asks, ¡°And where do you want me?¡± She nods to the chair in the corner that looks nothing like the chair in the hotelst night, but when I look at it, my skin breaks out in a cool sheen of sweat all the same. I have to remind myself that Sutton and Avery both want this, that I¡¯m not forcing anyone. But as my son sits in the chair, his knees spread, hands on the armrest, and I position myself behind Avery on the bed, I feel like I¡¯m winning sorge, so grand, that I¡¯m taking away from him. I peer over the smooth curve of Avery¡¯s shoulder, and bring my lips to her ear. ¡°Are you both ready?¡± I ask her, wanting her to pass the question to Sutton, which she does. He nods, and she turns back, reaching behind her. Sutton pulls the chair up to the edge of the bed, and tips his head sideways, aligning his vision with Avery¡¯s. ¡°Tell me when he¡¯s inside of you all the way,¡± he says to her, stroking his fingers over the apple of her cheek. She nods, and fills her hand with my hard cock, moaning as she discovers the slippery tip. Using my arousal, she pumps me, soft moans bouncing around the teakwood walls. ¡°I¡¯m getting him ready,¡± she tells my son, adding, ¡°but he¡¯s there. He¡¯s ready.¡± Blonde hair spills over her face as she turns her head, ncing back at me. ¡°Will you touch me there first? Before you fuck me?¡± I nod, not verbally answering, but only because I don¡¯t think I can. Arousal and emotion twist in my guts, clogging my throat. I reach down and stroke two thick fingers up the slit of her pussy, precum spilling from my cock at the way she feels, so soft and slick. ¡°Avery,¡± I moan, pressing my lips to the tender spot behind her ear, kissing her there, on her neck, down her spine. I let my lips roam over the sweet terrain of her shoulders as I slide my fingers up and down her cunt, daring every few strokes to slip my fingertips inside. She¡¯s swollen and sticky, and my cock is hard as a rock, resting against her ass cheek. After a moment, I bring my hand to the plug and slowly twist it. Her back arches, and she clutches Sutton¡¯s hand more tightly in response. ¡°He¡¯s moving the plug around,¡± she tells Sutt, who nods, and tucks hair behind her ear. ¡°It feels really good, Sutt.¡± I notch my eager cock at her cunt, skating my hand from her ass to her waist, staring down at the toy sunk deep inside. ¡°Are you ready? It¡¯s going to be ufortable at first, you have to give it a second, let me make youfortable, okay? Let me stretch you.¡± She nods, gripping my son¡¯s hand more tightly, then murmurs, ¡°I¡¯m ready for you, G.¡± The reduction of my name to a simple letter, the intimacy in being nicknamed by her, the heated slide of her cunt¨CI can¡¯t wait a moment longer, and I sink inside with a groan. ¡°Ohh,¡± she moans, her soft cries making the bungalow rattle. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I calm her, stroking my hand up and down her naked hip, my eyes pinned on thest few inches of myself not inside of her. The plug tugs toward her body, and I know she¡¯s adjusting to the strain and difort of being so full in both ces. ¡°Give it a minute. Your body will adjust, your pussy can take it,¡± I tell her, tracing the back of her earlobe with my tongue, my cock pulsing inside of her. ¡°That word sounds so good on your lips,¡± she moans. ¡°I love the way it sounds when a man talks dirty.¡± She takes Sutton¡¯s hand, and tugs it between her legs. ¡°Rub my clit like you do at home, baby,¡± she orders, and he does. Slowly, I rut my hips into her from behind, over and over, the bed rattling against the teak walls, the ambient noises of the ocean falling away as her moans gain power and volume. ¡°How does it feel?¡± Sutton asks her, still rubbing her clit. She reaches back, gripping my naked hip with one hand before moving it on top of Sutton¡¯s, feeling him touch her. It¡¯s so erotic the way she wants us both so much, and finds a way to make us both feel wanted and needed while also taking all the filthy pleasure she desires. Avery is an anomaly of beauty and strength, and emotional attraction spiders through my chest, hitting at the worst time. I sink my fingers deeper into her hip, focusing on my job. Fucking her, and fucking her good. I touch the plug and stay focused. ¡°Avery, your little pussy is so tight. I can feel that plug in your ass when I fuck you. God it¡¯s good. So perfect.¡± ¡°G,¡± she moans, the repeated use of that letter now dizzying me. ¡°Oh my gosh, I¡¯m so full, Sutt. It burns but it feels so good.¡± Her head tips back as a moan lifts from her lips, my name wrapped in her gentle sighs. ¡°Geo, yes, god you have me so full, G. It feels so good.¡± Our flesh ps as I fuck her harder, giving her more intensity as she begs softly, moaning more, deeper, faster, harder. She¡¯s insatiable, and the pressure from the plug against my cock is unreal. Paired with how tight her pussy is, I have to do everything I can to note, to continue pleasuring her until she¡¯s ready to release. After all, this is about her getting what she needs. Sutton slips his thumb onto her tongue, and she sucks it, making a groan erupt from my son. ¡°You¡¯re okay,¡± he tells her. ¡°You look so beautiful, Avery, taking what you want, getting what you need.¡± She licks his thumb and bobs back down on it, making him groan. ¡°Tell him where you want his cum, baby, tell him where you need to feel it.¡± The way my son and I pass around the role of dominant so easily is astounding. Neither of us battle or struggle for control but moreso, when it¡¯s my time to demand things of Avery, I do, and when it¡¯s his, he does. We pass the baton, almost like what we¡¯re doing is meant to be. She nods, blonde hair tangling with sweat against the cotton pillow. ¡°Sutton,¡± she whines, her body trembling against mine as I tug her back toward me, fucking her deeper. ¡°I want to taste myself and I want to taste him. Please, Sutt,¡± she begs, voice trembling as I skate my hand up her side, cupping her breast. Supple and soft, I squeeze her tit and pinch her nipple, sending my cock deeper as she cries out for Sutton to make a choice. ¡°Please, Sutt!¡± He sits back in the chair, their hands still linked. ¡°You want to swallow his cum?¡± She nods, and heat res in my core, incinerating my insides. Urgency grips me, and my cock throbs, her tight, wet walls closing in all around me, tightening, milking. ¡°Avery, you little minx, you¡¯re tightening up. Tell me you¡¯re not close already,¡± I breathe, hiding the fact that I¡¯m on the edge, too. ¡°Show him, before you swallow?¡± Sutton urges, and then she¡¯s writhing and bucking, her cunt swallowing my dick as shees in wild, unabashed waves. ¡°Sutt,¡± she draws his name out on an insistent moan, and I squeeze my eyes shut, thinking about the flowers on the arbor at the wedding, and the sand in my shoes at the end of the night. I think about anything but how tight she is, how good she feels, how perfect I fit inside of her. ¡°I¡¯ming, oh my god,¡± she breathes. She wiggles against me, riding out thest traces of her orgasm before I tug her hair gently, earning me an over the shoulder nce. ¡°Stay on all fours,¡± I tell her, my words a raspy warning as I slide out of her, ncing down at my glistening, creamy cock. ¡°You¡¯re all over my cock, look,¡± I tell her as she abandons Sutton¡¯s hand to turn around on the mattress to face me, still on her hands and knees. ¡°Clean it up and you¡¯ll get a reward,¡± I tell her with a wink, flexing my abs as tight as possible to divert blood flow from my cock. I don¡¯t just want to unload in her mouth¡ªeach time I¡¯m with Avery, I want to give her the experience of a lifetime. So she remembers forever, no matter where we end. She traces the red crown of my cockhead with the pink tip of her tongue,pping at the streaks of arousal left from her pussy. I grip her head, losing my fingers in her soft hair, and guide her up and down my length with gentle force. ¡°She¡¯s hungry for it, isn¡¯t she Sutt?¡± I ask, keeping my eyes on Avery¡¯s open, full mouth. ¡°Yes, she is,¡± he says, sounding smoky and faraway. I realize, that¡¯s how he sounds when he¡¯s aroused. I don¡¯t look up at him, because what we¡¯re doing isn¡¯t about us. Instead, I stay focused on Avery, and the way she curls her tongue around the base of my cock. ¡°I want it now, G, please,¡± she begs, swirling her tongue around my balls as I stroke my cock over her face. I plunge myself into her mouth, with every intention to pull back out and tease, but when she makes a noise of approval in the back of her throat, I lose all hope of edging us. Gripping her head more tightly, I hold her eyes with mine. ¡°You ready?¡± She nods, and I take her face in both hands, and watch her face as I cum, each hot, thick spray making her eyes flutter. My spine grows wobbly and the back of my neck hot as I watch, each shot of cum earning me a seductive moan. When I¡¯m done, I tip her face upward and slide out. ¡°Show him,¡± my son says. She opens her mouth slowly, revealing a mess of white on her tongue. My cum. In her mouth. I dip my finger in it, and trace her lips. Blue eyes on mine, she closes her mouth and faces my son, bringing his hand to her throat. He holds her there as she swallows, and he gets to his feet, taking her face in his hands. ¡°Tell him thank you.¡± She knees her way back to me, and kisses me. I taste myself, but I don¡¯t care, because kissing Avery is the sweetest thing. Her lips are pliable, and when her tongue curls into mine, and she infuses my chest with a moan, I break the kiss, and the spell. ¡°Thank you,¡± she says quietly. I smile. ¡°Let me take your plug out, and help you clean up.¡± We get off the bed and go to the restroom, where I remove the plug and wash it at the sink, back in my terry robe. She slips back into hers, too, then begins using the restroom, holding it up around her waist. I eye her on the toilet, white robe all around her face as I stand at the sink, washing my hands. ¡°I would have given you privacy.¡± She arches a brow yfully. ¡°Do you want me to have privacy?¡± I shrug. ¡°I want you to get what you want, Avery.¡± Her smile makes thingse alive beneath the robe. ¡°I¡¯m d you¡¯re here.¡± In the room, we join Sutton in bed, with champagne and fruit. We talk about the ceremony, how everything turned out, how great Kat and her pink hair looked in her tux, and how dreamy the altar photos will be, with the sunset and beach creating the ultimate romantic backdrop. We talk. Weugh. Sutton and Avery make love, and I find myself lying next to them, eyes closed, enjoying the tender noises. And eventually, we sleep.
The next day, the three of us decide to do local shopping, strolling the main street where all the local artisans have shops. Avery selects a bolt of Tifaifai fabric, a traditional French polynesian fabric she hopes to use to reupholster a few pieces in the warehouse, and have enough scrap for a focal wall piece. We have it shipped to the warehouse, and while working that out, she falls in love with a string of pearls, freshwater. She wears them the rest of the day after Sutton purchases them, and I put them on her as he pays and she holds her hair up. After eating fish in a restaurant right on the coast, we start walking back, stopping at a small adult store with a cyan neon sign tucked between two ssworks shops. Sutton stays outside, snapping photos of the horizon, and Avery and I go in like two kids in a fucking candy store. She asks questions about items she¡¯s never seen or heard of¡ªI¡¯m utterly shocked to learn she¡¯s never heard of male chastity, though we skip the cage. Together, we select several items. The cashier takes my money, and I watch Avery¡¯s expression as the clerk bags the items. Her excitement reminds me of Sutton when he was young, when I took him to pick a new baseball card, how excited he¡¯d be to get back into the car and just hold it on the way home. ¡°Are you happy with what you selected?¡± I ask we walk out and collide with Sutton, who is talking to some locals, speaking fluently in French. She smiles. ¡°Excited to get back now that we have toys to y with.¡± My chest tightens at the yful way she waggles her brows. When we get back to the bungalow, Sutton pours us champagne, and we take turns using the shower, each of us slipping into our terry robes. Avery makes a joke that she will now have a Pavlovian response to white hotel robes because it will make her think of all the sex we had this week, and Sutton and I agree. He holds her hand that night and watches as she lies on her back, legs spread, me between them. I use two of the dildos she picked today, and work them inside of her, one at a time, slowly. She clings to Sutton¡¯s hand, bringing it to her cheek forfort as I nudge the second one in, next to the first. ¡°Avery wanted to be stretched, to know what it felt like to have two men inside of her, without the risk of having a baby with a stranger. Isn¡¯t that right, Avery?¡± I smile as I ask. She nods, dropping her chin to her chest. ¡°Yes, G.¡± Sutton kisses her hand, and I watch him for a few minutes as I move the toys, in tandem, in and out of her. Her legs thrash as she nears orgasm, and he watches only her. Where the toys enter her, her expressions, her toes curling into the covers, her hair strewn over the pillow. He watches her in her most primal state, taking pleasure she needs, as I admire her for being brave enough to ask for and chase it. Their love is solid, and each time I join them, I see that. I¡¯m proud of them both for it. When she¡¯s whining and moaning, and stretched as far as she can tonight, I slowly withdraw each toy, one at a time. She sits up on the mattress, peering down at me with an adorable pout. ¡°I want toe again, G.¡± Opening the small wooden box I brought to bed with me, I hold up my palm and show her the Baoding balls we selected in town earlier today. Her eyes widen and she simply says, ¡°yes.¡± Sutton and I have done well not looking at each other during moments where it would be ufortable, and I¡¯ve surprisingly found myself at ease when they have their time together, because I get so much of her, I¡¯m not jealous the way I thought I would be. She gasps when the first ball breaches the narrowest part of her pussy, and Sutton tells her she¡¯s doing good, and that she¡¯s taking it all so well. The other ball goes in easier, clinking against its mate inside her, the noise muffled by her body. ¡°The weight and sensation of these inside you when I take your ass will make you scream.¡± I fuck her doggy on all fours, and Sutton kneels at the edge of the bed, kissing and licking at her mouth. She attempts to cry out, but he captures it, swallowing up her moans. I cum deep, and she sits on her tailbone, leaning forward to watch it ooze out. She ys with it, dipping her fingers inside before stroking my softening cock a few times. Sutton takes her to the restroom and helps her wash up, and I clean the toys when they¡¯re done. And the three of us flop down across the bed, and finish the champagne, discussing how fun it would be to own some of these bungalows and sell them. We sleep well.
Avery saunters off to the spa on-site, leaving Sutton and I to ourselves. We end up ying nine holes of golf, then enjoy Poisson Cru, the ind¡¯s ssic dish. We share beers that don¡¯t quite taste like beer, and walk along the small road in town, discussing ns for future Mercer ventures. He calls the head of security for Mercer, and verifies that the wedding gifts were safely moved to his house, and we meet Avery at the beach a few hours before sunset. Sutton pulls a chair into the water and sits, letting the ocean rise mid-calf. Avery positions herself between his legs, the water up to her belly. They share a few private words, a few I love yous, and then she calls me over. I sit in the water next to her, with her, and nce up at Sutton when she reaches for my hand, cing it over her bikini bottoms. Sutton¡¯s eyes fall to the crystal clear water, spotting my hand, and what she¡¯s doing, and in response, he tips his face toward the setting sun, draping hisrge hands over her shoulders. He kneads her muscles and ys with her hair, then brings his lips to her ear, kissing right beneath before settling back in his chair. I tug her bikini bottoms to the side, and enjoy the tide and the balmy air as I slip two fingers into the tightest, wettest pussy I¡¯ve ever felt. Avery whimpers quietly, because there are other vacationers nearby. Plunging in and out, with my thumb on her clit, I bring her to orgasm within two minutes, and she tips her head back to find Sutton leaning forward. They share a kiss as I stroke thest bit of orgasm out of her little writhing body, and when the sun has set, we move back to our room. We fall asleep on the bed, sticky and hot from the beach and sun, but morefortable than ever. A couple of hourster, I wake to the sound of Sutton and Avery making love, her little gasps and titited sighs making me hard. He drops his mouth to her ear, but because her hip is merely an inch from mine, I hear the words he feathers over his wife. ¡°I want to put a baby in you, Avery, you want that, too, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yes, Sutt, I want your baby. Please,e deep inside me. I need your cum,¡± she whines back to him, their soft breeding banter arousing me beyond reason. After Avery orgasms and Sutton fills her to the brim, he slips out of bed to get a towel, and that¡¯s when she turns on her side, facing me. She reaches between us, finding me thick and hard. She pumps me, though we say nothing, and when Sutton returns, he sits on the edge of the bed behind her, and pulls her hair back. ¡°What else do you need?¡± She slips out of bed and ces her palms on her thighs after falling to a crouch, resting on her feet and knees. ¡°Paint my face, Geo.¡± Suttones to stand at my side, his eyes on her face as he holds her hair up off her face and neck, allowing me a clean canvas. She sucks me and he tells her she¡¯s doing good, and then when I tell her I¡¯m close, he moves behind her, holding her face steady, warning her. ¡°It¡¯sing, baby, are you ready?¡± I stroke myself just a few times before ribbons of cum stter over her face, dropping down onto her thighs and the floor. When I¡¯m done, I clean her up while Suttonbs her hair and braids it. ¡°How was it?¡± Sutton asks, looping an stic around the end of her braid. ¡°Absolutely perfect.¡± After, we share ice cold water and dip our feet into the ocean one more time just to watch the moon, then head to bed, and sleep well.
Rest and rxation. That¡¯s what today is for. I¡¯m d Sutton didn¡¯t n too much for this trip, because everything we¡¯ve done so far has felt absolutely perfect. We order room service for every meal. Avery soaks in the tub. Sutton swims in the ocean. I take a nap. We all take a nap. And after everyone is showered and clean, Avery asks Sutton to consider something special tonight. I watch his face as she asks him to make love to her while she lets me have her mouth. She asks for him toe inside of her, but she expresses her desire to have us both at once. ¡°Greedy¡± is how she categorizes herself, but ¡°hungry¡± is the word I use in my mind. He agrees, and she lies on her back, moaning my son¡¯s name as Ie to her face, turned to the side, and fuck her mouth. I don¡¯t look at Sutton, to see if he¡¯s watching her, because I don¡¯t need or want to know. Instead, I keep my eyes trained on her tits, bouncing each time he ms into her. She grips me at the base, bobbing on my cock as she takes it hard from Sutt, and after a few minutes like this, shees, orgasming explosively all over his cock. ¡°She¡¯sing for us,¡± my son says, voice hoarse. ¡°You¡¯reing unraveled, aren¡¯t you?¡± She nods, whimpers and sucks me, bobbing so deep, making my entire body impatient for my impending release. Sutton and I both stop moving at the same time. I don¡¯t look, but I know because at once, the bed stops squeaking, and the poor teak walls get a break. ¡°Fuck,¡± I grit out, knowing what¡¯sing. Literally. ¡°Get ready, Avery,¡± he warns. Her hand falls to her stomach and her eyes roll closed, and I slow my hips for a moment to enjoy the sight of Avery being happily bred. ¡°Take my baby, Avery. Let mee so deep I get you pregnant, please baby.¡± Her knees rear back another inch as she grinds down on Sutton, and that¡¯s when the final thread snaps. ¡°Avery, I¡¯m going toe,¡± I tell her, because her fantasy was a spit roast, she never said where she wants me toe. She blinks up at me. ¡°In my mouth, please.¡± You don¡¯t have to ask me twice. I plunge back inside her warm little mouth and fuck it,ing in violent waves, the entire bed shaking as she sucks out and swallows up my cum. I don¡¯t even remember saying goodnight, but I fall asleep right after, and sleep better than I ever have before.
After swimming in the ocean, the three of us enjoy breakfast on the beach, and walk into town again, picking up a few gifts for the office back home. We visit an art gallery, and stop in at a small restaurant for lunch, sharing some of our favorite local dishes. Avery, outfitted in a strapless, floor length sundress, catches looks and turns heads wherever we go but especially today, with her white thong visible through the sheer linen dress. She¡¯s been a sight all week, but today, she has me craving intimacy. They must be feeling the same way, because when we get back to the room, she orders everyone in bed. Sutton and I take turns making love to her. She rolls to him, and they make love, his wedding band glistening in the moon light against her back as he tenderly fucks her. She rolls toward me, leaving him there to wait, then allows me inside of her, and I hold her close to my chest on our sides as I fuck her. She rolls between the two of us, and when Sutton has made here twice, he holds her tight when he orgasms, promising her babies, so many babies. And when she rolls to me, and I slide inside of her, finding her sticky and wet already, Ie easily, with her soft moans feathering over me like ice on a sunburn. Sutton brings her a towel, and I bring us water, and after everyone is cleaned up and hydrated, we pass out together, Sutton¡¯s thigh thrown over Avery¡¯s right leg, mine thrown over her left. Avery and I sleep nude, and Sutt chooses sleep pants, and everything about what we are or aren¡¯t wearing and the way we areying is a metaphor for who we are. That¡¯s thest thing on my mind as I watch the bamboo ceiling fan tugzy circles above me, and I knock out.
Topless, Avery sits in the sand, letting the cool waves rush over her legs and belly. She looks fucking beautiful. Sutton and I are sitting back ten feet, in chairs, feet in the water, enjoying ourst beers of the vacation. I reach into my pocket and tap the button on the remote, sending a shockwave of pleasure into the plug Avery¡¯s wearing. Yet another toy we grabbed in the shop the other day, she¡¯s already asked if she can wear it on the flight home. When she asked, I was afraid Sutton would say no, that it¡¯s going too far. I keep waiting for that¡ªfor the kink to reach him in a ce he isn¡¯t ready, for him to freak out and try and call it all off. Or maybe not try but actually call it off. But he¡¯s been unbelievably open and epting, and it¡¯s now, as I¡¯m hitting level three on the remote, Avery bouncing on her butt in the sand in reaction, I have to ask. Sunsses shading our eyes, I turn his way. ¡°Can I ask you something?¡± His lips twitch. ¡°Sure.¡± I push my sunsses up, into my hair, and narrow my eyes. ¡°Why do you look like you want tough?¡± Sutt, wearing a v-neck white t-shirt, lifts a shoulder and lets it fall, kicking his foot a little when the tide rushes in. Wind drops pieces of tawny hair over his eyes. He shoves it back. ¡°I was just thinking, you already sleep with my wife, what more could you ask?¡± We bothugh, and I watch him carefully as I do, making sure it¡¯s a trueugh and not one shielding pain or regret. ¡°Well that¡¯s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.¡± I scratch at my now unkempt beard. ¡°The reason I¡¯m here is because you are¡­cking the desire to adventure, sexually,¡± I carefully state. ¡°Vani,¡± he says, ¡°I think that¡¯s what the world atrge calls a person like me. Vani.¡± I nod. ¡°You said it, not me.¡± Heughs. ¡°I¡¯m not ashamed. Vani is a great vor. One of my favorites.¡± I nod. ¡°Well, you went from vani to epting this cacophony of vors in your life, and I¡¯m just wanting to know how you got there, how you¡¯re so good with all of this.¡± He sips his beer as the foamy white ocean ims our ankles for a moment. Avery tosses wet hair over her shoulder, flopping back into the waves as I tap the remote again. ¡°That night, in the hotel room, I realized that, you know, the signs had been there. She¡¯d been asking for more from me for some time and¡­ I brushed it off. But she expressed outright that she needed more and that she didn¡¯t want to go without those experiences. And I knew right then and there that I had to change or I¡¯d lose her.¡± I nudge a clump of wet sand with my toe. ¡°When I offered¡­¡± ¡°It clicked into ce, that a trusted third was what we needed. And I have no male attraction, so to me, having our third be you made even more sense, in some twisted sort of way.¡± It makes sense to me, too. ¡°I shared those thoughts, more or less.¡± He peers back at me, sipping thest of his beer, which is mostly foam at this point. ¡°You know, I thought it was going to be weird, and something I¡¯d need to like, reconcile in therapyter. But it¡¯s rming how natural everything feels. There¡¯s peace of mind knowing that Avery gets the things she needs from someone I trust implicitly. The worry and anxiety never kicked in.¡± I bob my head to his words, then scratch at my beard, one more question on my mind. ¡°Do you enjoy watching her?¡± A grin sweeps his face. ¡°The most un-vani thing about me is how fiercely I enjoy watching her.¡± I toggle the switch on the remote and turn off the toy, which causes Avery to flip onto her belly in the shallow water and blink at us, looking like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model more than anything. ¡°Hey,¡± she pouts. Sutton looks at me. ¡°Time to go back?¡± I nod, collecting our chairs as Sutton towels Avery off. The three of us walk up the long teak boardwalk to our bungalow, and slip inside. For ourst night here, Avery asks for pain, to see if she likes it and wants to further explore. Back in the room, she stays sun and sand-kissed when I tie her wrists together, then to the headboard, and tie her feet to the bed frame, spread eagle. I ce the metal mps she selected at the toy store on her nipples, and drag my fingertips down her bare belly, tickling her, trying to steal her focus from the biting pain. She winces and whines, but when Sutton appears in a bathrobe and wet hair, she calms for him, her eyes set on his profile as he sits next to her on the bed, kneading her muscles. ¡°Remember, if it hurts too much, you say red,¡± he reminds her, kissing her cheek before finding his ce; the chair in the corner. She nods, and we begin. With the plug still in, I straddle her waist and tug at the mps on her nipples. She whines but never uses the safe word, and when I reach back and dip my fingers between her legs, she¡¯s achy to the touch, wet and warm. ¡°You like the difort, don¡¯t you Avery?¡± She nods her head, and turns to look at Sutton, whose focus is pinned on the red blooming around her nipples. Concern is etched on his forehead, but he doesn¡¯t speak, so I tug her mp on the left side, hard, and get her attention back to me. Get full chapters from F?nd-Novel ¡°Tell him it¡¯s a good pain. A pain that makes the pleasure better. Take away his concern, Avery. Don¡¯t let your husband worry.¡± She nods at me, sweat glistening in the hollow of her throat. She looks so good this way, tested, worn out, still starved for it. She¡¯s perfect, and I need to quit fucking using that word for her. It¡¯s dangerous. ¡°It feels so good, Sutt,¡± she moans, alleviating the concern etched on his face. With my thumb on her clit, I rub her, holding the chains to her mps in my other hand. ¡°When I pull this chain, and these mpse off, it¡¯s going to be intense, blinding pain for a few seconds,¡± I tell her, preparing her for what I know is going to hurt. ¡°But I¡¯m gonna make youe, Avery, and I¡¯m gonna pull the chain at the same time, and you¡¯re going to experience that exquisite pain along with the explosive pleasure.¡± She nods. ¡°I want toe now, but I¡¯m scared,¡± she admits, causing Sutton to hold her bound hands in one of his. The circles I make over her swollen clit grow tighter, more urgent, and a momentter, her legs are trembling and her pleas for mercy echo off the aged teak. ¡°Please, G, please,¡± she moans. My eyes lift to my son¡¯s, and he grips her hands more tightly as I give him the nod. He returns his focus to his wife¡¯s flushed face, and I position myself lower, between her legs, and bring my mouth to her pussy, and finish her with my tongue. Her orgasm peaks, and I tug the chain, burying my face deeper into her cunt as her howls of pain and pleasure electrify the air. Sutton¡¯s voice is heavy in the space, his assurance and praise reverberating through the walls as I finish her off. When I¡¯m done, he¡¯s still softly kissing her neck and talking her through it, and I get up, untie her, then wash my face. I pass him arnica cream, and he pulls her into hisp, gently spreading the ointment over her wrists and ankles where the rope was tied. She¡¯s limp in her postcoital bliss, and she smiles at me as Sutton gives her the best aftercare, and I pour us each an ice water as the balmy evening air leaves us misted in sweat. That night, thest night of the honeymoon, neither Sutton nor myself make love to Avery. She¡¯s the only one to orgasm, but we fall into bed not more than an hourter, sated and exhausted. We wake up to Avery¡¯s rm the next morning, and the honeymoon is officially over. We travel all day, exhausted and sore. And back at the airport, Sutton is surprised when two Mercer Properties cars arrive. I tell them I¡¯m going to go back to my ce for a week or two before I move into their house, because I have things to get in order, and stuff to pack. Avery kisses me goodbye, and I shake Sutton¡¯s hand, but his gaze follows me into the backseat of the town car, and I don¡¯t miss the way he watches me until the car pulls off into the night. He thinks I¡¯m lying about why I can¡¯t go over there. And he¡¯s right. Father Knows Best: Chapter 24 The Reason Smoothing my palms along her back, I watch as the cream blends into her skin, smooth and even. ¡°Your Bora Bora tan is just about gone,¡± I tell Avery. She groans as my hands knead her sore muscles but turns her head enough to show me her pout. ¡°That makes me sad. I miss Bora Bora,¡± she hums thoughtfully before returning her focus to her phone, where she¡¯s reading an email from a furniturepany she often works with. I push her hair off her neck, and work the muscles there, too. ¡°I¡¯ll have to take you back for our anniversary.¡± Though she is focused on her phone, she doesn¡¯t reply, and I know the email has little to do with that. She¡¯s been off and slightly preupied since we returned, and I know why. ¡°Miss him?¡± She twists, taking her bare back from me, but presenting me with her towel covered front. ¡°Is it cruel to you if I say yes?¡± I open my mouth, but before I reply with ¡°no, of course not,¡± I take a moment and truly consider it. Sitting down, I keep my focus on my feet as Avery pulls her shirt back on, and refolds the towel she used to protect the couch as I rubbed her back. She pulls her long hair from under her shirt, and it spills down her chest, smelling like ck cherries and vani. I twist a strand of her hair around one of my fingers, enjoying how soft it is. How good she feels. ¡°It¡¯s not cruel. I miss him, too. Obviously not in all the same ways that you do but¡­ strangely, it doesn¡¯t hurt me to hear that you miss him.¡± I let go of her hair and she slips her hand into myp, curling our fingers together. ¡°You know that I love you more than anything and the fact that you¡¯re secure enough for these sweeping changes only makes me want and need you more,¡± she tells me, but the truth is? I know this. I know how Avery feels, because not a day goes by¡ªnot even in thest few weeks of missing my dad¡ªthat she doesn¡¯t make me feel adored, loved, and like the center of her world. I could see in his eyes that she made him feel that way, too. ¡°I am a bit surprised by my own security, I won¡¯t lie. I mean, when you and Brandon worked together, I found myself irrationally jealous sometimes. But with him, I almost feel, I don¡¯t know, at ease? Maybe it¡¯s knowing that you want him back, that you want what he has to offer, but that you want me too? I don¡¯t know.¡± I scratch the back of my head and peek over at her, finding her blue eyes locked to my profile. She¡¯s listening intently, and there¡¯s no surprise there, because Avery is a good listener. She¡¯s perfect. And I want her to have everything she wants. That¡¯s the role of a husband, a partner, a provider. ¡°Thank you,¡± she says, tossing her phone aside to crawl into myp and straddle me. She holds my face in her hands, electric excitement zapping down my spine from her affection. ¡°I know we talked about the honeymoon already,¡± she says, speaking to our heartwarming two-hour talk the night we got home from Bora Bora. She told me thank you so much for everything, and then we discussed a little more of what she wants to explore with my dad, and I shared with her my sense of disappointment with myself for not dialoguing any of this until our wedding night. It was a good heart to heart, and I think of her tender affection during that talk while she strokes her thumb over my cheekbone now. ¡°But thank you again, and I¡¯ll never stop telling you thank you, for being the man of my dreams and giving me everything that I want.¡± I sigh and enjoy the kiss she ces on my lips. Her brows furrow. ¡°Why the sigh?¡± Uneasy, I rake a hand up the back of my neck and over my hair, mussing it further. ¡°Come on, it¡¯ste. You have a huge staging with Arnaud tomorrow and I have a showing in the Pacific Heights, and I need to grab my suits from the cleaners.¡± Standing, Avery remains clung to me, and I carry her upstairs to our room, where I put her down on the bed. She slips out of her clothes and into her favorite silk nightgown while I¡¯m using the bathroom. The room is dark and cool, with only the moonlight dripping over the bed in golden waves. It¡¯s beautiful, and after my eyes adjust to theck of light, and find her, my chest tightens. Holding theforter back for me, the ring I gave her glittering on her finger, blue eyes blinking up at me, I know I have to get my dad back here. I get into bed and press my lips to hers and we say our goodnights. I stay awake, and run through how I¡¯ll work in a visit to my dad¡¯s ce tomorrow, amidst everything else I have to do. It¡¯s imperative.
¡°Tonight, can Ie by? Maybe for half an hour or so? Quick talk,¡± I tell him, as he passes a stack of files to Birdie, who reced Chanel when we thoughtfully removed Brandon from Mercer Properties. She touches his shoulder, asking, ¡°Anything else?¡± He looks between us, then at her. ¡°Nothing.¡± He lifts his eyes to me. ¡°Come in.¡± I didn¡¯t really n on stopping in for a closed-door talk, not at work, but I step inside and close the door behind me nheless. I guess Avery isn¡¯t the only one who obeys my dad. ¡°I actually wanted to talk to you at your ce, not at work, because, well, you know,¡± I tell him, because clearly the thing I want to discuss is how he promised to move into the guest room for an undetermined amount of time after we got back from the honeymoon, but instead has been somewhat avoiding the both of us at work for thest two weeks. He¡¯s been ming his inability to move in on the remaining work that needs to be done at his ce. Avery buys it. That¡¯s because she¡¯s never been to Dad¡¯s house. His home needs no work, and even if it did, it¡¯s not like Geo Mercer is going to strap on a tool belt and get it done. He¡¯d hire someone, and, for that matter, he wouldn¡¯t stay home and monitor their work. That¡¯s why he has Birdie, who acts more like his personal assistant than the Mercer Properties front desk clerk that she is. ??? ????? ???????s ??? ?????s??? ?? f¦É?dn¦Ïvel He clears his throat, dropping his eyes to a stack of papers that I¡¯ve seen on his desk for the better part of three years, items that may have been pressing sometime ago but now are obsolete. Yet he studies them, as if they¡¯re the most interesting papers in the world. Fear clogs my throat and lines my stomach with sickness. Is he changing his mind? Did hee home and feel some type of way about our arrangement? I don¡¯t know, but I know at work is not the ce to push for answers. He¡¯ll shut down if I push for more. I know, because I¡¯d do the same. Cut from the same cloth, after all. ¡°I can¡¯t tonight,¡± he says, still flipping papers and not looking at me, thebination of those two things scary enough to have me on my feet, moving toward him. I didn¡¯t want to talk about this at work, but he¡¯s shutting down, and shutting me out, so I¡¯m out of options. ¡°You¡¯ve been avoiding us all week. Actually, you¡¯ve been avoiding us since we got home from Bora Bora.¡± I put my hand on the folder to prevent him from opening it, and finally he brings his focus up to me. ¡°You¡¯re pulling back. Why?¡± His eyes search mine, and his mouth parts, like there are so many things he wants to say right there on his tongue, weighty and burning. Yet he says nothing, and the intensity in his eyes burns bright, holding mine, instilling me with a sense of worry, the back of my brain going numb. ¡°Dad,¡± I start, taking my time, feeling the utter role reversal of us in this moment. After all, being vani is what led him into my rtionship, and now, he¡¯s hesitant to discuss the cacophony of vors (his words) we¡¯ve willingly run into together, all three of us. ¡°Avery adores you. She¡¯s been really missing you.¡± A partial smile curves his lips. ¡°I miss her, too. I mean, I see her here of course¨C¡± I cut him off, because it¡¯s important that he knows that the way in which she misses him has nothing to do with Mercer Properties, and everything to do with what they started building together in the wedding suite that night, weeks ago. Something is on his mind, but when he finally speaks, I don¡¯t push, and instead just listen. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to renege on anything,¡± he says slowly, almost cautiously, like there¡¯s another truth inside him he¡¯s protecting. ¡°I just¡­ I guess I wasn¡¯t sure how much you¡¯d both really want to go through with everything once we were home from Bora Bora.¡± Nodding, I tell him the truth. ¡°Avery wants everything we discussed that night in the hotel. And she had your room ready the day after we came home.¡± I mp my hand to his shoulder. ¡°I realize it¡¯s slightly unconventional, but I have to tell you, I love seeing her this way. And I¡¯m not too proud to admit that half of that is you.¡± My dad nods his head, cing his hand on my wrist, giving it a squeeze. ¡°Okay. I¡¯lle by tonight.¡±
Avery is standing at the stove, swaying to the gentle rumblings of ¡°Thru and Thru¡± by the Rolling Stones while she cooks chicken. Her hair is up, and she¡¯s already in her pajamas¡ªshe showers and gets in pajamas after work on the days she has long stagings. A candle flickers on the counter, and the TV screen reflects on the wall of windows in the living room, where the news ys on mute. With my hand at my tie, I loosen it. ¡°Smells good.¡± She turns, smiling. ¡°You¡¯re home. And thank you, it¡¯s curried chicken with rice and vegetables.¡± She returns her focus to the meal, but nods to the other side of the counter, where I¡¯d missed the open wine bottle and partially full ss. ¡°I opened a red. Want some? Dinner will be done in about twenty.¡± Stepping aside, I reach for two wine sses, and fill them both, emptying the bottle. As I set the bottle down, my dad steps into the kitchen, lowering tworge suitcases to the ground with a soft thud. Avery jumps, spinning around, yielding her yellow spat as her eyese to rest on my dad. ¡°G!¡± she exims, abandoning the spat on the counter as she leaps into his arms, and buries her face in his neck. He holds her, his silver eyes cutting to mine. I sip my wine. ¡°I told you she missed you.¡± He turns his head, burying his face in her all the same. ¡°I missed you, too, honey.¡± We eat Avery¡¯s dinner, and enjoy a second bottle of wine. Dad retires to his room, but closes his door, and we go to bed, too, closing ours. ¡°I¡¯m happy he¡¯s here, even if his door is closed tonight,¡± she tells me when we¡¯re cuddled up in bed not long after. I kiss her forehead, and share her sentiment. In the back of my mind, I know there¡¯s a reason why that door is closed. And for Avery, I¡¯m determined to find out why. Father Knows Best: Chapter 25 The Gift Exchange Before my wedding, working with my husband and father-inw was a nonissue. Since returning from our honeymoon, however, seeing them around the office has posed a challenge. I¡¯ve turned from a sharp, nicely dressed, polite working woman to a horny, perverted, mess. Internally only, of course, but still. Sex and sex acts with Sutt and Geo are pretty much the only thing I can think about. On myst staging project, I positioned a chair in the corner of the master suite, facing the bed. Roberta pointed out that the home is a two-bedroom in Pacific Heights, and extra furniture in such a small space didn¡¯t make sense. And in my head, when I drug the chair out of the room and watched Arnaud load it back into the truck, I felt sad for Sutton. My brain is warped. I can¡¯t stop envisioning the three of us together everywhere. Andst night, Geo finally moved in. Sure, it was two suitcases and a small bag, and he still owns his home, and nothing is permanent or forever. But he¡¯s here. For now. And that¡¯s what matters. Despite the fact we all work at Mercer Properties together, we took two separate cars to the office this morning, with Sutt and his dad sharing one, and me taking my own. I had to stop by my furniture builder¡¯s studio, as he¡¯s working on a custom piece for one of Roberta¡¯s highest end listings. While there, with Sutt and Geo on my mind, I check on the new piece, for us. I¡¯d managed to make some phone calls at my spa day in Bora Bora, one of those being to my designer. Today, I¡¯m seeing my designs brought to life, just dayster. After approving the design, I verify that it will be delivered to our ce before we get home. My surprise to my guys. ¡°Hello?¡± I answer my phone with the touch of a button on the screen in my vehicle, returning both hands to the steering wheel as I parallel park in front of our building. ¡°Hey, are you runningte?¡± Sutton asks, his voice gentle and deep, two of my favorite ways his voice can be. So sexy. Shifting into park, I snatch my purse from the passenger seat, switching the call to my phone, and check my side mirrors before throwing my door open in downtown San Francisco traffic. My heels click against the broken asphalt and in the distance, a car horn sounds, and man shouts an inaudible grievance. I lift my hand, waving at Sutton, standing in the doorframe of the lobby. ¡°I¡¯m here, I¡¯m waving.¡± His eyes find me, and a sexy look of desire overtakes his handsome features, darkening his eyes. He shoves his phone into his pocket and collects my body in his arms with so much ease that I p at his shoulders and giggle, pressing a kiss on his neck, beneath his cor. He lowers me. ¡°Wait until you see this.¡± Taking the old elevator up, we arrive at the penthouse of the building. When the doors open, Geo is there, smiling, arm extended. ¡°Ready for the tour?¡± he asks, and I nod, letting Geo and Sutt guide me around the small but gorgeous space, located in a building that Mercer has been dying to be in for years, but never had the chance¡ªording to Geo. Once I¡¯ve seen every square foot and built a basic staging n in my mind, Sutton tells me the good news. ¡°Dad got us the listing,¡± he says, earning a wink from Geo. ¡°But I found someone who wants it. We still have to do the full staging for our website and for the client, but they are very interested.¡± His smile tells me things he hasn¡¯t. Wide and pleased, I think I know why this means so much. It¡¯s not just the building. ¡°How will this one rank among the other sales?¡± I ask, cutting my gaze between the two of them. Geo and Sutt are top agents, and so are the others at Mercer. They are goal-oriented, and in the real estate business, that means they want the best listings and to sell them for the highest prices. That¡¯s what matters in big city real estate¡ªturning the best listings into unbelievable profit. ¡°This will be our highest list price sale, if the client goes through with the purchase,¡± Sutton says, earning a wide grin from Geo, who ps his son on the bicep. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you talked a buyer into that price point,¡± he says, watching Sutton with both pride and adoration, the same way I look at Sutt. Sutton shrugs. ¡°Let¡¯s not count our chickens before they hatch.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± Geo says, ¡°but I do think a nice, pre-celebratory steak is in order. Simply for locking down the listing. We¡¯ll celebrate for real if you sell it.¡± I pluck a piece of lint off of Sutt¡¯s shoulder. ¡°When you sell it,¡± I correct. Geo¡¯s smile is sly, and he wags a finger at me. ¡°That¡¯s right. When, not if.¡± ¡°Fine, a steak then a nightcap at home?¡± Sutton proposes, looking between Geo and myself. My insides re with heat, squeezing and pulsing at the possibility of what a nightcap could entail. I¡¯m itching to make love to Sutton like I always am, but I¡¯m also dying for some fun exploration with G, too. We tried so many new things on the honeymoon and there¡¯s so much more I want to explore, with both of them, in their own ways. As much as I want to say screw it to the steak, I peer at my phone and see the delivery being made, and know we need to stay gone a bit longer anyway. ¡°Sounds good to me,¡± Geo says, then they look my way, waiting for final approval. I nod and tune out their work talk on the drive to the restaurant, instead writing a list of naughty to-dos in my mind forter.
At the restaurant, Geo slips the ma?tre d¡¯ a few folded bills, and he escorts us to a private table in their private back room. Geo pulls my chair out for me, and Sutt drapes my napkin over my legs. They talk shop and I let them, so drunk off both of them that I sit quietly with ease, sipping my wine, watching the two most important men in my life get along, and get along well. When our food arrives, Sutton cuts my steak and Geo uses the table¡¯s pitcher to top off my water. He shares his uncut horseradish, and Sutt makes sure they box up my leftovers when we¡¯re done. Together, whether they know it or not, they take care of me, and it¡¯s on the drive back to our house that I realize¡ªI want this forever. Sutton keeps his hand on my lower back as we walk up the back entrance to the house, Geo using the key Sutton gave him today to open the door. We head inside, and find ourselves at the kitchen ind, a bottle of whiskey in Sutt¡¯s hand, three sses pinched in Geo¡¯s. They loosen their ties in tandem, and my ovaries catch fire from so much eroticism. ¡°Pleasee to our room tonight,¡± I spit out, hands braced against the marble, absolutely interrupting their conversation about interest rates. Geo, a bit taken back, nces at his son before leveling his eyes on me. ¡°Got a hankering?¡± he asks, his tone teasing and raspy, the rightbination to leave me explosive between my legs. I nod. ¡°I want to use the rest of the things we bought together in Bora Bora.¡± Sutton sips his whiskey while scrolling through his phone. ¡°Avery, did you turn off the security cameras this afternoon?¡± His dark brows stay rumbled together as he swipes through security footage, trying to solve why all of the eastward facing cameras were off for thest two hours, but on now. ¡°I did.¡± This answer earns me two hunky and inquisitive nces from both of them. ¡°I had a delivery. And I wanted it to be a surprise.¡± Geo shrugs out of his suit jacket and hangs it on a barstool, and Sutt does the same. I stare at the two suit coats on the backs of barstools, then up at my guys. My guys. Sutton is my husband, and he¡¯s the most true and loyal man I¡¯ve met. But Geo, can I really say Geo is my guy? He came in clutch, did a solid for us on our wedding night, talked us out of making an emotional decision. Then he offered himself up as a sexual solution and emotional bridge for us, to keep Sutton and I together during times we feel distant. Tonight¡¯s surprise is bold and assertive, two things I am normally not. Hell, those traits belong to Geo, not me. But I think sometimes in life to reach your goals, to grab your dreams, to hold your prized possession in your hands¨Cwhatever that may be, you have to do a big thing. Today, I did a big thing. I just hope it pays off. The rightful source is find¡¤novel Sutton moves around the kitchen ind until he¡¯s at my side, pushing my hair over my shoulder so he can gain ess to my throat. He kisses me, lowering his empty whiskey ss to the counter while looping an arm around my waist. ¡°A surprise? For us?¡± he asks, dragging his soft lips against the warmest spots on my throat, as Geo¡¯s storming eyesy focused on me. ¡°Where is it?¡± Geo asks. ¡°What is it?¡± Sutton inquiries. I slip out of his arms, and outstretch a hand to each of them. There is no hesitation, grumbles or groans¡ªGeo crosses the kitchen and takes my hand, pressing a soft kiss to my palm, while Sutton takes the other, kissing my jaw and chin. Their off-beat steps behind me make my pulse skip as we tread gently upstairs,ing to stop in the wide hallway between two doors. Geo¡¯s door and ours. Both are closed. I shake free of their hands and step back, nervously twisting my hands together behind my back. ¡°I know that you¡¯ve only spent one night here, and that we didn¡¯t discuss anything with any permanence, and I also know that those discussions have to take ce down the road, but¨C¡± Geoughs, causing my words to fall off a cliff. I brace my hands on my hips. ¡°Hey, why are youughing?¡± I look over at my husband who is also smirking. ¡°Your preamble is a dead giveaway that you¡¯re nervous about this gift,¡± Sutt says. Geo nods. ¡°That.¡± I roll my lips together. ¡°I had a bed made. I called from the honeymoon when the idea hit. When I said I went to the warehouse today I was actually at the workshop.¡± I raise my brows yfully. They don¡¯t say anything, and Sutton nces at the door. Despite my nerves rising up, I soldier on. ¡°I thought maybe you were hesitant toe here, because staying across the hall from us is no better than me asking you to drive here some nights. I was thinking I¡¯d found a solution to making me feel less cheap, but my solution didn¡¯t factor in how it would make you feel.¡± Sutton reaches for the door handle to our room but I p his hand away, earning a chuckle from his dad. ¡°Not yet,¡± I tell him, straightening my pencil skirt, then smoothing my hands over the chenille sleeveless blouse I paired it with. ¡°Now, I want to talk about this item, and what it means, and I want everyone to be open and honest. Promise?¡± Geo¡¯s lips twist. ¡°Pinky swear.¡± Sutton nods his head, dragging a strong hand down his face. ¡°Promise.¡± I open the door and they move into the room, and Ie to join them, all three of us standing at the foot of our brand new bed. ¡°It¡¯s huge,¡± Sutton says. ¡°You two are huge,¡± I counter, stepping away from them to flop across the center. ¡°Thankfully Arnaud knows a custom mattress maker. The bedframe was no problem, but getting a custom mattress and box spring was apparently quite tricky.¡± Sutton nods, ying with the stubble along his jaw. ¡°They managed, I see.¡± ¡°I used the great motivator.¡± Their heads whip to mine, two sets of stern eyeballs narrowed on me. ¡°What does that mean?¡± Geo asks, his tone suddenly sharp. I roll my eyes at both of them. ¡°Money.¡± Their collective sigh makes meugh, and I spread my hands over the bed, covered in arge, off-white quilt, also custom made. ¡°I want you to know that if you want to sleep in here on nights we¡¯re together,¡± I cast my eyes to Sutton, because we discussed this that night in the hotel. We didn¡¯t, however, discuss when we¡¯d move to this step. Again, I¡¯m leaping. ¡°And on nights that we¡¯re not, you¡¯re wee here, and there¡¯s not just room, but a ce of your own. I won¡¯t sleep on your side. Sutt will stay on his, opposite of yours of course. But if you want to join, you now have a ce, because you belong, and I want you to feel like you belong.¡± Geo¡¯s face is unreadable, so I instead try to read Sutton¡¯s face, watching his dad. Still, nothing. Silently, Geo leaves the room and returns with a small bag, the sight of it giving me a thrill. It¡¯s the bag from the store in Bora Bora, with the rest of our unused toys. He starts to unbutton his shirt, and I look between them, unsure of where we stand. ¡°Geo, how¨C¡± With his hands on his belt, his shirt in a wad on the floor, he pauses, looking up at me with a strand of silvering hair draped over his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re very thoughtful, Avery. And I can¡¯t say that I¡¯m going to sleep in here with the both of you often, but knowing that I was on your mind and in your heart enough to drive this choice, to make things feel better for me, is the gift. Not the bed. Not the mattress. The gesture, that¡¯s the gift. You¡¯re the gift.¡± Hees to the edge of the bed and I scoot toward it, but Sutton takes my hands and gives me a gentle pull. I end up on my bare feet between them. I face my husband. ¡°You¡¯re the most thoughtful, beautiful woman I know, and I feel lucky to call you my wife,¡± he says before dusting his lips against mine. ¡°Kiss up,¡± Geo murmurs, causing Sutton tough, and then, we¡¯re allughing. When theughter dies, I ce my hand on Geo¡¯s forearm. ¡°You¡¯re getting undressed.¡± He nods. ¡°You gave us this gift, so now it¡¯s our turn.¡± He looks at Sutton. ¡°I¡¯m going to give your wife a gift now, in return. With your permission, of course.¡± Sutton looks between us, then slowly treads to the corner, next to the bed, and takes a seat in the chair. ¡°She¡¯s all yours.¡±
¡°Are you ready?¡± Geo asks, strewn across the center of the bed, nothing but a small hand towel keeping his cock private. I nod my head, and nce over to Sutton, still sitting in his chair. Reaching, we join hands and squeeze, a temporary hold, one meant to bond and connect before. He winks when he releases me, then settles back into his chair, chin to chest. ¡°My eyes are on you, baby.¡± I smile, then look down at the man beneath me. His strong hands grip the covers, and his chest hair has been made wild by my hands. I¡¯ve been rubbing and massaging him, working him up to this. It¡¯s a first for us both. I look at my husband. ¡°When you¡¯d fall asleep early, sometimes I¡¯d watch videos of this on my phone, and wonder what it felt like to have control, to be the person doing this to someone, how that might feel. Then taking it out, how it feels to be the person giving that relief and in turn, that pleasure? I¡¯ve always wondered.¡± ¡°After tonight, you won¡¯t have to wonder. You¡¯ll know,¡± he says, continually keeping me in awe of how epting he is of all of this. For a brief moment, something like regret shes through his features. I know that Sutt feels bad that he never pulled these truths from me before, but we both have ownership in that. And anyway, with a sexy, silver-haired solution syed out before me, I have very little reason to hold a grudge. If anything, I feel indebted to these men. Geo reaches up, wrapping hisrge, weathered hand around my bicep. ¡°I trust you,¡± he says, his eyes glistening with something unreadable. Pride? Arousal? I don¡¯t know, but staring into these eyes reminds me of staring into Sutton¡¯s, for so many scary reasons. ¡°I read about this a lot online after we bought it,¡± I tell him, and I don¡¯t know if even Geo is aware which toy I¡¯ve selected tonight. ¡°I¡¯m clenching my ass,¡± he deadpans, teasing. I smile. ¡°Unclench. It¡¯s not a plug and I¡¯m not pegging you.¡± His body visibly rxes against our mattress. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m relieved or disappointed.¡± From his chair, Suttonughs. I wink his way, then refocus on Geo. From next to me, I find my toy and lift it up, showing him. Geo¡¯s eyes hover on the ss rod for a long few seconds before returning back to mine. ¡°I¡¯ve never¡­¡± he trails off, but I already know. He told me. And that tells me that he¡¯s either nervous, excited, or both. ¡°What is that?¡± Sutton asks, the feet of his chair making a high pitch noise against the hardwood as he moves, positioning it to face me. The way he¡¯s sitting, he can¡¯t see Geo¡¯s face or his groin, and is instead focused solely on me, my face, my expressions, my enjoyment. My chest warms that the two men in this room with me are here strictly for me, because of me, to please me. I¡¯m overwhelmed with gratitude but as I learned one night in Bora Bora when I started to thank them during sex, emotional gratitude is not meant for the bedroom pre-orgasm. I shelve my feelings, and fill my palm with lube, dragging the rod through the lube, fully coating it the same way Geo lubed the plug for my ass. ¡°See?¡± I show him, lubing the rod. ¡°I¡¯m learning things from you already.¡± Geo and Sutton both face me, and I look between them,ing to focus solely on the man who is about to have a long ss rod inserted into his penis. With one hand, I knock away the privacy towel now that Sutt is properly seated, and wrap my palm around Geo¡¯s cock. ¡°Ohh,¡± he groans, his voice rocky and raspy. I love the way his voice changes, dipping into something smoky and needful when I¡¯m touching and pleasing him. Once he¡¯s fully hard, which does not take long, I align the rod with the wide, hungry slit on his cock, and cast my eyes on him. ¡°I¡¯m going to go slow, and you let me know if you need me to stop.¡± Geo nods his head against the pillow, his grip on the bedcovers intensifying. ¡°Do you want to know my n?¡± I ask, just as Sutt reaches out, squeezing my barefoot. Facing them, my legs outstretched, draped over Geo¡¯s, I wonder what we¡¯d look like to someone who walked in on us. I used to be a person that cared what other people thought, but that was before I learned that caring what other people think is stupid and a total waste. We look like three consenting adults having fun, our way. If people can order a burger at In-N-Out with no bun, extra sauce and tons of patties, I can sound my father-inw and cuck my vani husband. To each their own, and stuff. He shakes his head. I like that response, because I don¡¯t truly know what the n is. Not yet. I think I¡¯ll just¡ª ¡°ooohhh,¡± he groans as I slide the first inch inside of him, using my pointer finger and thumb to keep him steady and pulled open. ¡°Sounds like a good oh,¡± Sutt adds, giving my foot a squeeze of approval. ¡°Is that a good oh?¡± I ask Geo, whose eyes are pinned on his cock in my hand, and the rod in the other. Sweat beads on his hairline, and the muscles in his belly and chest are tightly flexed, indicating the way he holds his body at a slight strain. ¡°Rx,¡± I add softly just as he nods. His body settles into the mattress some, color returning to his fingertips where he was previously gripping the covers so hard the blood had drained away. ¡°Focus on me,¡± I tell him, sliding the rod down another two inches. His eyes stay on mine this time, and his breathing grows silent, more intense. His nostrils re and my insides grow hot and achy. ¡°It feels good. A lot of pressure, but good,¡± he rasps, sweat sliding down his cheek, disappearing into his beard. With the hand holding the rod, I slide it down to hold his shaft, leaving the rod unattended. My free hand slides to his balls, cupping them. My stomach clenches at how hot they are, how heavy they are, and the way he groans to high heaven when I drag my nails over them. I move my hands back to his cock and the rod, and give him another inch, ready to stick it all the way in when a sharp gaspes from him. ¡°Are you okay?¡¯ I ask, my eyes moving between a grimacing, erect Geo and a flushed, patient Sutton. Geo nods. ¡°I just need a minute for the rest.¡± I stroke his thighs and knead his balls while Sutton rubs my feet, pressing kisses to the arch. His dark eyes find mine in the low light of therge room. ¡°Put it in him. He can take it. He¡¯ll make it fit.¡± I smile at Sutt and look at Geo, whose lips twitch as he tries desperately to control his writhing body on the bed. I move the rod up, freeing a few inches while I stroke him, the room filled with nothing but his feral, wall-shaking moans. ¡°Oh Jesus, Avery.¡± ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck.¡± ¡°My god, sweetheart.¡± He struggles and fights, and all the while, I stroke him, moving the rod deeper inside of him before pulling it out and starting all over again. A few minutester Geo shakes his head, lifts it off the pillow then ms it back down again, letting out a long howl. ¡°I can¡¯t hold back much longer, honey,¡± he admits. I wrap my palms around his cock like a steel pipe and start to twist in opposing directions, the handjob finisher adored by partners across the globe. But it only takes a moment before Geo grips his chest, the salt and pepper hair sticking out between his fingers. The sight of him struggling not to orgasm while his thick, veiny cock is all mine, hard as hell and in my hands¨Cit makes me wild for him. ¡°May Ie now, Avery? Please?¡± I¡¯ve never heard Geo Mercer beg, but I love that when he does, it¡¯s for me. Sutt is still gently stroking the bottom of my foot as his eyes hover over mine, endearing and bright. From his chair, Sutton says, ¡°Finish him.¡± My hands resume their journey up and down Geo¡¯s erection, the looped end of the sounding rod the only visible part. From a nce, Geo almost looks like he¡¯s pierced with a ring through his cockhead or something. The idea of Geo with a cock piercing makes me wet, and just as I¡¯m about to ask him if he¡¯d ever get pierced, he groans. ¡°Avery, I¡¯ming,¡± he manages, his voice hoarse before dropping off entirely, the orgasm proving too intense to talk through. His thighs jerk and his abs tighten, the lines of strain in his throat growing powerful and intense. ¡°Oh god,¡± he moans, eyes rolling into his head as he orgasms, my hands moving up and down his shaft, and over his full balls. ¡°I¡¯ming,¡± he groans again, panting, at one point reaching down to touch himself but stopping. A momentter when his orgasm has subsided, Geo opens his eyes. Confusion colors his features and that¡¯s when I loop my finger around the end of the rod, and begin to slowly tug. Geo groans, pping at the mattress as I slowly remove the toy from his urethra. There¡¯s resistance on the end as I tug it, and because I don¡¯t want to hurt him, I make sure he¡¯s stillfortable. ¡°Are you okay? It¡¯s getting a little tough to tug, but I¡¯m almost there. I just want to make sure you¡¯re still feeling okay?¡± His littleugh makes me smile. ¡°You heard my son. Finish me.¡± He winks and I tug thest inch of sounding rod from his urethra, which unleashes Geo¡¯s cum. ¡°Oh my god,¡± I squeal, dropping the rod on theforter. Geo lets out a long awaited, much needed sigh of relief. ¡°God that felt good.¡± I grab the towel and use it to soak up the puddle on his belly and chest. ¡°How did you like the rod?¡± He sits up on his elbows, and looks down at the rod lying idle and innocent next to us. ¡°It made everything much more intense.¡± His silvering eyese to mine. ¡°And I think you¡¯d like it.¡± I drop a hand between my legs. ¡°I think I¡¯d like anything right now,¡± I admit, a heated flush creeping up my neck and cheeks. ¡°That was so hot.¡± Wearing only a satin robe tied tightly at my waist, Sutton reaches out and tugs the end of the robe. It immediately falls open, revealing my bare body to the both of them. ¡°Look at you,¡± he murmurs before quietly adding, ¡°look at her.¡± ¡°I know,¡± Geo says, dragging the sheet over his naked groin, moving to his designated side of the bed. Sutton gets to his feet and moves around the room,ing to his side of the bed. He shuts off the dimmed lights and lets his robe drop to the floor before getting in bed, surprising me, and maybe Geo, too. Elbow bent, hand under his head, bicep flexed, my husband looks so handsome in our new bed, waiting for me. My eyes move a few feet over to Geo, who is also watching me. I look between them. ¡°Who wants me?¡± They both raise their hands. I lick my lips. ¡°I wanna ride both of you. Pass me back and forth?¡± I can¡¯t even believe it¡¯s me, Avery Bet Mercer, asking to be bounced on Sutton¡¯s dick, then Geo¡¯s. Who am I even? A woman who is finally getting her sexual needs met and her appetite fed. ¡°Sutt, if it¡¯s too much¨C¡± He shakes his head. ¡°It¡¯s not. And I¡¯d like to change one rule.¡± I lick my lips. ¡°What?¡± Sutton clears his throat, adjusting the already perfect covers folded over his groin. ¡°I don¡¯t mind if he finishes inside of you. I mean, we¡¯re trying, yes, but, I don¡¯t know. I guess¡­ I¡¯m not sure we¡¯d know the difference in our DNA anyway.¡± My eyes cut to Geo¡¯s, who glisten with emotion, even in the low light. ¡°Okay,¡± I say to them, before dropping my robe and crawling over my husband. He grabs my hips and flips me around, then slides into my cunt in the first stroke. ¡°You can ride him, but when it¡¯s my turn with you on this side of the bed, I¡¯m on top and I¡¯m in charge.¡± I nod my head, goosebumps breaking out along my arms and chest. I love the dominant and possessive side of him as much as I love the sharing side of him. ¡°Okay.¡± Sutton nips at my ear and sucks my breast into his mouth as he makes love to me, fucking me in long, deep strokes that leave me nearly boneless beneath him. As my orgasm crests, he pulls out, kisses my lips and whispers, ¡°make him feel good, Avery.¡± I nod my head, my brain fuzzy from the sheer eroticism of this moment. I crawl onto Geo and straddle him, my eyes rolling back as I sink down on his cock. Geo¡¯srge hands syed across and keeping my ass pulled apart as I bounce on his cock is the hottest feeling in the world. But so are his eyes on me, and his willingness to please me. He watches me ride, and neither of us say a word, we just keep our gazes locked. My tits bounce, sweat slides down my spine, and right as my orgasm crests, Sutton reaches out and steals my hand from my breast, and brings it to his lips. ¡°My turn.¡± Then I¡¯m under Sutton, his cock impaling me, his hips moving in ragged, uncharacteristically sloppy strokes. He licks his thumb and drops it to my clit, moving it in small circles, making it bloom. I¡¯ve been edging myself since I saw the bed earlier in the warehouse, and now, with my husband doing all the right things, I don¡¯t know if I can hold back. ¡°Sutt,¡± I moan, ¡°I¡¯m gonnae.¡± He nods his head, dark hair damp with sweat as he bends to kiss me. ¡°Come with me Avery,¡± he moans, thrusting, fucking, filling. My legs are spread impossibly wide when the urge overwhelms me, and my cunt spasms all around him, milking him, dragging him over the explosive edge with me. ¡°Baby, oh my god,¡± he croons, more verbal than he¡¯s ever been. But before I can soak in this version of Sutt, he¡¯s climbing off of me, and ordering me to his dad. ¡°Go on, baby, you¡¯re not done.¡± With Sutton¡¯s cum dripping down my thigh, I climb onto Geo, his fingers sinking into my hips now with ease. ¡°Oh, fuck,¡± he groans as I position myself on his length. ¡°I feel that,¡± he tells me quietly, maybe even quiet enough that Sutton can¡¯t hear. ¡°I feel how good you make him feel.¡± I bite into my bottom lip. ¡°I want more.¡± His grin is slow but sexy. He says nothing, but holds my hips before thrusting his. I moan his name, I moan Sutton¡¯s name, and in a matter of minutes, Geo is groaning through his second orgasm and me through mine. Cum sshes up my thighs and leaks onto our bed when I finally have the energy to crawl off, but after Sutton has cleaned me up in the bathroom, Geo¡¯s already has the protective bedding removed. Quietly, the three of us get dressed and Geo suggests ate movie in bed. We fall asleep easily, but when I wake in the morning to the sound of my rm, I realize at some point, Geo went to his room and slept in his bed. Father Knows Best: Chapter 26 The Cuckold Awakening Feeling lost is one of the worst ways to feel, alongside not being able to trust yourself, or your mind. I wouldn¡¯t wish it on anyone, not even my worst enemy. ¡°Where do you go from here?¡± Jon asks, adding, ¡°Anotherpany maybe?¡± Heughs but I know he isn¡¯t joking. Okay, maybe I would wish it on my worst enemy. Because Jon deserves it. Roberta rolls her eyes as Birdie closes the office door on her way out. ¡°Yeah, Whitmore, you really think he¡¯s going to leave his ownpany?¡± Jon ms his champagne. If he wasn¡¯t in my dad¡¯s office when we returned with the good news, he wouldn¡¯t even be included in the celebration. I know it¡¯s wrong to hate, and it¡¯s probably a reflection of myself at some point to dislike this man as much as I do but still, I loathe Jon Whitmore. Always have and always will. ¡°Ohe, Jon,¡± my dad says, refilling his own flute. ¡°You don¡¯t need Sutt to leave to be the top agent. You just need to get better at selling. And up your frequency.¡± Criticizing Jon on his sales is like the Oscar winner telling the other nominees to try harder. Jon, believe it or not, can really turn it on and charm clients. He wouldn¡¯t be at Mercer if he wasn¡¯t an excellent salesman. Jon smooths his hand down his tie. ¡°Remind me, how¡¯d you get that listing anyway, Sutton?¡± My dad gets to his feet, opening his suit jacket with one hand. ¡°If you were my son, Jon, I think you¡¯d be an advocate of nepotism, but I¡¯d have given the listing to Sutton either way.¡± ¡°Ohh, damn, Geo just roasted your ass, Jon,¡± Robertaughs, pping her hands together, champagne sloshing. It¡¯s true, Jon¡¯s insinuation that I received that listing simply because I¡¯m Geo¡¯s son is bullshit, but I think he¡¯s had so much champagne that my dad¡¯s response doesn¡¯t quite register. My dad pops his shoulders in his suit, and lifts his ss. ¡°To Sutton, who sold Mercer Properties¡¯ highest listed home to-date.¡± Avery, who has been on my arm all afternoon, lifts her ss, clinking it against mine. ¡°To you.¡± ¡°To me,¡± I say, toasting her before kissing the champagne off her lips, and that lost feeling in the back of my mind grows a little fuzzy, and distant for the time being.
We¡¯ve been celebrating since four in the afternoon, and it¡¯s going on ten o¡¯clock at night. When Mercer makes a sale, we really party. There¡¯s a lot of stress involved with selling high-end, high-valuated properties, not to mention, the people we deal with are usually quite particr. Ensuring everyone gets what they want and making sure that every detail is tended to before the papers are signed is my specialty. I¡¯ve lost a sale in the eleventh hour once when I forgot the buyer said they wanted the front rose bushes removed. A couple walked away from a house for that, and I learned then that sometimes people are looking for an out, so you can¡¯t give them an opportunity to find one. Instead, you have to guide them where you want them, and keep everyone and everything on the same page until they realize it¡¯s what they want too. That¡¯s true for real estate, and I guess my personal life. I¡¯m all fucked up tonight. And being drunk has only made that worse. At first, it made my confused and lost state a little blissful, blurring the edges of my reality just enough to allow me to actually celebrate my sale. But now, several sses of champagne and a few whiskeys deep, I¡¯m back to utter confusion. Who am I? My entire life, I have been Geo Mercer¡¯s son. Someone who will undoubtedly follow in his footsteps and run a good ship where Mercer is concerned. That¡¯s all a given, and I¡¯ve lived up to those hopes thus far, easily. But aside from that, I¡¯ve been a man who knows what he wants, and equally, what he doesn¡¯t want. The first thing in my life that I ever really wanted? Avery. And on our wedding night, when I thought I may lose her, I realized that my love for her is truly the most and only important thing in my life. I would have given up everything to keep her and make it work. When my dad stepped in and offered himself up¡ªit never seemed fucked up. After we repaired our rtionship and I learned that my mother Margot was the driving force of matrimonial despair in their story, I reframed him in a whole new light. In a matter of days, my dad went from someone I despised to the person I respected most¡ªbecause of the sacrifices he made for his family. He let me hate him, because he didn¡¯t want my heart to be broken for my mother. He let me treat him like shit, to get my grief and anger out on a tangible source, instead of internalizing that pain by knowing the truth before I was ready. He sacrificed himself for my happiness. He showed me that family is more important than anything else, and that night, saying yes to him for her was easy. Strangely, I felt nothing but relieved when we were able to work something out. And as ns evolved to include him further in our rtionship, I felt zero hesitation. That¡¯s where I¡¯m struggling to understand. I don¡¯t like when another man looks at Avery too long, or nces at her ass when they hold the door, or lets her go first at four-way-stop. Yet I have no problem watching my dad and Avery kiss, hug, show each other affection¡ªand I find myself enjoying listening to them. I like watching her when she pleases him, and while I never watch him or look at what he¡¯s doing to her, still, I enjoy being in the room when they¡¯re together. I even find it somewhat arousing. Which baffles me. I still have zero urge or desire to let Avery shove a sounding rod down my penis, or watch her y with what I leave inside of her¡ªthose things are still best suited for my dad. But I¡¯m surprised by how much I enjoy being a part of it all, and how much I enjoy watching her get off with him, while I sit untouched in the corner. I was so sure of who I was and what I wanted, and now, in thest few weeks, I find myself feeling like I¡¯ll be devastated if my dad meets a woman and doesn¡¯t want to be with Avery anymore. She¡¯se to adore him and rely on him and I¡¯m fully hooked on being their third wheel many times. I may be trying to reconcile that I am not as vani as I originally thought, because I want him to stay in our rtionship. My dad. I scrub my hand over my forehead and pour myself another whiskey, and sink into my office chair. I slipped away earlier for a moment alone but now, I want to be anything but. In fact, all this thinking about Avery and my dad has me leaning forward, dialing the front desk where everyone is currently huddled. Birdie answers. ¡°Sutton?¡± ¡°Put Avery on,¡± I slur, my words running together. There¡¯s a rustling on the line, and a momentter, her soft voice makes my chest squeeze. ¡°Sutt? Where¡¯d you go?¡± ¡°Come in my office. Dad, too.¡± I hang up, and finish the whiskey I don¡¯t need. A momentter, in her backless ck romper and nude heels, her hair in a sleek ponytail, Avery treads in, my dad behind her, his hand on the small of her back, eyes on her pert ass. ¡°It¡¯s good, right?¡± I lift my drink as he quietly closes the office door with one hand, using the other to free the button on his suit coat. ¡°The whiskey?¡± Avery questions. My dad¡¯s eyese to mine, and I wink to him. ¡°Avery¡¯s ass. I saw you looking. Hell, you can look, you¡¯ve been inside. Looking is harmless.¡± My dad sits in the chair in front of my desk, and Avery does the same, sitting opposite him. ¡°You¡¯re drunk.¡± I nod. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°That¡¯s rare,¡± he continues. I nod again. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Celebratory?¡± he questions. I nod. ¡°Sure.¡± He tips his head to the side and studies me in a way that only parents can do, in a way that makes me feel immediately exposed and seen. I raise my palms and look at Avery, then back at my dad. None of my feelings areing out in a drunken word vomit. I owe both of these people more respect than that. Theplicated stuff can wait for sobriety. ¡°What else?¡± my dad continues, seeing past my shit. ¡°I want Avery to get off. Right now. I need that. I need to see that.¡± I look at Avery, and find her cheeks flushed, and her nipples hard behind her expensive outfit. I nod to her and look at dad. ¡°She wants it, too.¡± My dad looks at my wife, and my insides tighten, because I love them both, in very different ways, yes, but I do love them both. And whether it¡¯s fucked up or not, I like when he makes her feel good. ¡°Lock the door,¡± I say to my father, but Avery is the one who gets up and locks the office door, twisting the pulley on the blinds until they¡¯re closed. ¡°I want this so much,¡± I say to them, feeling like it¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve really ever announced a need. Everything so far has been about Avery, but right now, I want to sit in my leather chair with the skyline as my backdrop and I want to watch my gorgeous young wife have a toe curling orgasm. ¡°Fuck,¡± I ground out, cing my palms t on the desk, my head a little swimmy from the booze. ¡°Take off your romper and panties, and hold your legs open for him.¡± They don¡¯t tell me they aren¡¯t performers, or that this isn¡¯t part of the deal. Instead, my father tosses his tie over his shoulder and falls to a crouch on the floor, leaving enough room for Avery to sit in the chair after she undresses. Her romper pools to her feet, and she¡¯s about to kick off her heels when I shake my head. ¡°Leave the heels on.¡± My dad smirks at me, and her cheeks flush as she steps out of her thong, dad helping her. Avery stands between us,pletely naked but for her nude heels, her svelte body making my mouth go dry and my cock get hard. ¡°You are goddamn perfect,¡± I tell her, wondering why I¡¯ve always been so against casual nudity in the past. ¡°Now sit down and hold those high heels, baby. Let him make you feel good, and keep your eyes on me.¡± My words are controlling and dominant, and while I¡¯ve always felt like I am those things, tonight in this office feels like it¡¯s the first time I¡¯m those things with both of them. A little thrill flits up my spine as she sinks into the chair, following my orders, and rears her heels back, gripping them. Her blue eyes narrow on mine, chin tucked to her chest, handsing to collect her breasts. They look sorge when she holds them in her petite hands, and when he brings his mouth to her pussy and licks, her eyes roll closed for a moment. For original chapters go to Find¡ïNovel ¡°How does it feel?¡± I ask, my voice raspy and low, an echo in the closed office, the quiet rumblings of the party all around us outside. She nods her head a little, abandoning one hand to sift through the top of his hair. She nces between her legs tenderly, and the sight of her adoring him while he worships her sends a sh of blood to my groin. The alcohol guides my hand to my crotch, and I unzip, pulling out my cock. I¡¯ve never masturbated while they¡¯ve been doing their thing. I¡¯ve never had the urge. But tonight, seeing how good he¡¯s making her feel, the sound of her arousal bouncing off these four walls¨Cit¡¯s too much. I need release, too. ¡°Watching you feel good makes me feel good, did you know that Avery?¡± I ask, searching her eyes. She looks drunken, though it¡¯s not the alcohol, it¡¯s the thick hands pressed into her inner thighs keeping her spread, the rough tongue plunging in and out of her, and me, ordering for it to happen. She nods. ¡°Y-yes,¡± she breathes. ¡°But it¡¯s only fair that you make us feel good too, right?¡± I ask, moving my thumb over the slit of my cock, smearing precum down my shaft. Fuck, it¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve stroked myself. I¡¯m not a guy who jerks off a lot. I consider making love to Avery the most important thing, and I save myself for her. But this is good too. Holy shit. She nods her head, her gaze flitting between me and her cunt, where his head moves around and his arm works. I pump myself again, and give my balls a tug, discovering that I¡¯m not just edging myself but I¡¯m going toe. And soon. I release my cock as Avery tips her head back, a moan reverberating from her lips, bouncing off the ss windows as shees. One of her heels hits the floor with a plunk, revealing curled toes. She strokes her hand through his hair, moaning, spine curved in the chair as she orgasms in violent, heady waves. ¡°Oh my god, oh my god,¡± she pants, her thighs trembling as my dad sits back, admiring her swollen, sated cunt. My erection bobs as I look at her pussy, admiring it in a way I never have before. ¡°That was so hot,¡± she whispers, adding, ¡°I¡¯m sorry I came so fast. I was just¡­ too excited.¡± My dad gets to his feet, back still to me, and I get to mine, and I don¡¯t stop until he and I are hip to hip, very strategically and carefully keeping our eyes on just our girl. ¡°Avery, I want you to make use.¡± ¡°Stay naked, too,¡± Dad says, and I nod my head in agreement for that. ¡°Fuck yes.¡± Avery¡¯s mouth curves into the most beautiful smile. ¡°Do I get to keep it?¡± My brow furrows, and next to me, there¡¯s a rush of clothing and a zipper, and I know he¡¯s getting ready for what¡¯s next. ¡°Keep what?¡± She bites into her bottom lip. ¡°What you guys give me.¡± Blood rushes through my mind, and next to me, dad groans. ¡°Mm.¡± I swallow against the knot of confusion that suddenly appears in my throat. I don¡¯t normally like her to swallow. I¡¯m not the type of man that finds semen swallowing to be erotic. I don¡¯t expect her to swallow, and my orgasms are often abundant. She wants it, though. And he¡¯s here because she deserves to get what she wants. I nod my head. ¡°Yes.¡± She takes us by the cock, one in each hand, her eyes set on mine when she softly breathes, ¡°I¡¯m swallowing, both of you.¡± There¡¯s a deep groan from by my side, and then Avery is on her knees, her right arm pumping in my fuzzy periphery as she suckles at the first few inches of my cock. ¡°Mmm,¡± she moans, making little noises of delight, noises that make my balls grow tight and hot. The back of my neck, too. ¡°God, Sutt, I love your cock so much. I love the way your head feels on my tongue. You taste so good,¡± she praises, licking and sucking, her hand twisting and working the base, other arm still working on dad. My stomach tightens, and my brain goes waxy, and before Ie, she slides over, and when I look down, it¡¯s just her hand pumping me. I close my eyes, and get lost in the things she says to him, and soft slurping noises that radiate from them. ¡°Oh, G, god, you taste so good, I love how messy you are for me,¡± she breathes. I envision her cheeks hollowing as she sucks him, twisting him at the base, too. One deep groan lifts from his lips, and then she¡¯s back on my cock, her lips sealed around me, head bobbing. I reach down and fill my fingers with her soft hair, and peer down long enough to see her blinking up at me, adoration in her eyes. Her tits sway as she bobs, and she looks so enticing and gorgeous and perfect, the booze must make me emotional because I frame her jaw in my hand and murmur, ¡°Avery, I love you.¡± Then she¡¯s gone, stroking me as she makes him feel like the most important person alive. That¡¯s how it feels with her blue eyes on me, like I¡¯m everything. I want him to feel that too, after everything he¡¯s been through. I want him to know her pleasure and her love. ¡°Mm,¡± the sentiment radiates from him, and as he groans his pleasure, the room somehow grows smaller, hotter, and the urgency in my groin spikes, the excitement in my veins peaks. ¡°Avery, I need you,¡± I tell her, reaching down to grip myself at the base. She slides over, capturing my cock with her mouth. She knocks my hand away from the base, and grips me, and I spill into her mouth, on her tongue, and down her throat within seconds. My hand holds her head, and my eyes snap shut, as my orgasm tears out of me in wild, chaotic pulses. When thest of it has pulsed through me, I open my eyes to find Avery pushing cum back into her mouth, her throat bobbing as she swallows my load without so much as a flinch. She slides over to him, and a momentter, he¡¯s making the same noises I was, and while I don¡¯t watch, I listen to her swallow him. By the time she gets to her feet, I¡¯ve tucked myself away and collected her things. While my dad rights himself, I help her redress. Avery¡¯s arms loop my waist and she tips her face up to mine, smiling. ¡°I¡¯m more proud of you for asking for what you want tonight, in this office, than I am for that sale.¡± My dad clears his throat, and we twist our gazes to him, tying his necktie. ¡°I¡¯m more proud of the sale,¡± he deadpans, shooting me a yful wink. ¡°I think we should go home though. You¡¯re¡­ drunk.¡± I nod. ¡°I agree.¡± On the way out of the office, I¡¯m talked into onest whiskey with Roberta, while Avery and my dad sit in the lobby, talking quietly, both of them wearing adoring smiles, her hand stroking subtly up his bicep. By the time I¡¯m in the town car, I know I¡¯ve had too much to drink. With my head in Avery¡¯sp, I listen to her and my dad talk before I doze off with a smirk dusting my lips.
¡°No.¡± There is no other word for how I feel. ¡°No,¡± I try again, but saying it definitely does not take away the train wreck of a headache happening in my brain. I blink my eyes open slowly, only to close them again because, ¡°Oh Jesus. The sun.¡± My stomach roils, and my lips tingle, but Iy motionless for another minute until it passes. From somewhere downstairs, I hear traces of Avery¡¯s voice, argumentative but yful. I peer over at therge bed, finding it tousled and empty. Timid and cautious, I slowly move to get out of bed and work my way downstairs, needing an espresso more than I need anything else. When I make it to the kitchen, a wave of nausea hits, and I grip the doorframe to steady myself for a minute. That¡¯s when I see them. Sitting at the kitchen ind, coffee cups half drank, a full breakfast spread before them, a newspaper open. Avery is wearing her white satin pajama set, the ones I purchased for her, and Dad is shirtless, wearing low slung pajama pants. Their hair is disastrous, the kitchen smells like French toast heaven, and in the background, rain patters gently against the ss. My chest tightens. Coming down to them, to this ce feeling like our home, it makes everything I was thinking aboutst nighte rushing back. I want this. I want them and us forever, even if it¡¯s strange. Even if it¡¯s unconventional. Avery ps her hand against the counter, making the orange juice jump in the carafe. And that¡¯s when she spots me. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t say that had you been around for the bubble in 2008,¡± my dad finishes, following her gaze up to me. ¡°Good morning, son,¡± Dad greets, sliding out from the counter slightly. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± ¡°Morning, Sutt. We made your favorite.¡± She wrinkles her nose. ¡°Did we wake you?¡± She turns to face my father and swats at his chest yfully. ¡°I told you to be quiet.¡± I scratch the back of my head. ¡°You guys are bickering over breakfast like a married couple.¡± They split a nce, and I analyze their features in that brief moment. Adoration. That¡¯s what lifts the corners of my dad¡¯s eyes. Happiness and excitement is what I read on Avery¡¯s. I don¡¯t know how I ended up in this ce, I just hope they want to stay in it with me. Father Knows Best: Chapter 27 The Admission Obviously if you push alcohol on someone or try to get them to drink because you prefer them drunk, you¡¯re a scumbag. I drag theb through my hair, staring at my reflection in the mirror as the steam from the shower dissipates. ¡°You¡¯re not a scumbag,¡± I tell myself. Then I remind myself that I didn¡¯t even like Brandon¡¯s insinuations about Sutt and I marrying so soon, and I felt protective of my rtionship and my man then, obviously I¡¯m not a scum bag. Sutton steps into the bathroom, reaching around me to turn on the exhaust fan. ¡°Makes the mirror less foggy,¡± he says, pressing a kiss to my cheek. He¡¯s tying his tie, because the three of us are getting ready to go into the office. Geo is already downstairs. He¡¯s on a health kick, and he¡¯s decided to pack us lunch for a while to see if he can raise his good cholesterol. With a moment of privacy, despite the nerves, I ce my brush on the counter and face my husband. I really liked drunk Sutton, and how much he wanted to explore. And I get that I fell head over heels in love with a vani man, but that swirl that I got the other night was hot. And if any of that exists in him, I want to do what I can to bring that out. Because I think he enjoyed himself more than usual, too. ¡°Sutt,¡± I start, sliding my hand up his bicep, hooking it over his shoulder. He turns, facing me, his sharp jawline and stunning eyes still making me a little breathless. ¡°Thement you made yesterday morning, when you came downstairs.¡± He slept most of the day yesterday, so if he doesn¡¯t remember, I won¡¯t be surprised. Yet there¡¯s zero hesitation in his face when he says, ¡°Yeah, about you and Dad looking like a married couple.¡± My eyes fall to the ring on my finger, the one Sutt picked out when we¡¯d been dating only six months. Suddenly, feeling giddy about theparison he made makes me feel terrible. Wanting Geo to be a permanent part of us makes me feel guilty and selfish, and despite the fact I¡¯d started this talk with every intention of finding out how Sutt feels, an emotionalndslide wipes me out, and tears suddenly spring to my eyes. Sutt lifts me onto the bathroom counter immediately, and instinctively knocks the door closed with his foot. My face is in his hands in a matter of seconds, and that doesn¡¯t surprise me at all. Sutton has always taken such good care of me. ¡°What¡¯s going on, sweetheart?¡± My bottom lip trembles and tears spill down my cheeks. I realize now that this isn¡¯t just about wanting more of Sutton¡¯s kinky side toe free. This is about what we look like as a couple, and how we move forward. I know what I want, and suddenly living in this house with these men without them knowing is too hard to bear. ¡°I love you Sutton. More than anything. You know that, right?¡± I don¡¯t bother swiping at the tears, because they¡¯re falling so fast, there¡¯s no point. He nods his head, kissing my cheeks and nose, that look of concern on his face making my insides hot and weak. ¡°Yes, and I love you, too.¡± I nod. ¡°Well, thatment you made at breakfast yesterday, it made me realize that¡­ I want your dad to stay. Not just in the house but I mean like¡­ with us. Be part of us.¡± Now Sutton is nodding. ¡°Okay, tell me what else you want.¡± I shake my head. ¡°No, Sutt. It can¡¯t just be about what I want. I don¡¯t want you to live a life of giving me what I want, at your expense. You have to tell me what you want.¡± I swipe under my nose, and make onest admission. ¡°I¡¯m scared we¡¯re at an impasse where we may not want the same thing. Again.¡± Sutton lets go of my face and steps back, and fear throttles inside me. I reach for him but he takes another step back and drops his gaze to the floor for the most intense moment of my life. I¡¯m on the brink of screaming for him toe back to me, thinking he¡¯s going to tell me what he wants is to call this whole thing off when he looks up at me. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about this a lottely,¡± he starts, his soulful eyes searching mine. ¡°I always thought I knew what I wanted.¡± He shrugs. ¡°You.¡± Tension fills the space between us, and I want so badly to hold him right now, but he needs space to get through this, and for once, I need to give Sutton what he needs. ¡°I thought agreeing to my dad being part of things for a while was to scratch a curious itch for you, and I was willing to let that happen, because I wanted to keep you happy, and the idea of you leaving because you are not fulfilled made me sick.¡± He smiles slightly, and I press my hand to my belly, nervous and sick feeling. ¡°After our honeymoon, I realized that I enjoy watching you be pleased by him. And in thest few days, I¡¯ve kind of struggled with that truth. Two nights ago in the office, when I got drunk, it wasn¡¯t to celebrate that property.¡± He shoots me a wink. ¡°That property was always in the bag for me.¡± I smile at his confidence, and he continues. ¡°I realized that sexually, I thrive in two ces. With you, being inside you, intimately, making love to you, cherishing you. And¡­ watching you be his. Be slutty for him, be easy and adventurous for him¡ªall of that, I really fucking like it. And I thought I knew myself so well, and now I find myself feeling like if we can¡¯t make this work¡­¡± I take his hands in mine, tears of relief cascading down my cheeks. ¡°Oh my god, Sutton, you have no idea how relieved and happy I am to hear you say that.¡± He pulls me into him, and rubs my back as he kisses the top of my head, making me feel safe and loved, but also alleviating my worries. ¡°I love that you¡¯re opening up more,¡± I tell him. ¡°I love all the ways in which I get to be intimate with you, Sutt. Even if it¡¯s just being watched by you when he pleases me. It feels like I¡¯m getting closer to you, too. Somehow.¡± He nods his head. ¡°I feel the same way.¡± Readplete version only at find(?)ovel I slide off the counter and rock to my toes and find his lips, feeling the urge to kiss and be as close to him as I can. He tucks hair behind my ear. ¡°Avery, are you in love with him, too?¡± he asks, taking me off guard. His voice is soft, and his focus is gentle, and his hands continue to touch me in soothing ways¨Cone rubs my knee, the other tenderly cradles my neck. I swallow against the nerves and fear, and choose, like Sutton, to be brave. ¡°I am.¡± I lick my lips and say, ¡°I am in love with him, too.¡± For a second, he says nothing, but then he kisses me, strokes his fingers through my hair and says, ¡°I love you, baby.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not mad?¡± I whimper, emotional again. He shakes his head. ¡°I¡¯m happy. Because if we¡¯re going to make this work, it¡¯s pretty important that you give him the same love you give me. That¡¯s what he deserves, too.¡± I nod my head,pletely in awe and taken aback by my husband¡¯s progressive evolution. ¡°You.. think we can make it work?¡± I can¡¯t see a life without Geo. He touches my lips with his thumb. ¡°I do. Let me work on things a bit, okay?¡± I nod, and then he swipes his thumbs below my eyes, stealing the traces of our intense and emotionally heavy conversation. ¡°Now we go eat breakfast and get to work, okay?¡± I¡¯m not a scumbag. Just a woman with confusing needs. Thank god for my understanding husband. Father Knows Best: Chapter 28 The Guilt From my spot in the conference room, I have a perfect view of Avery at the copier in the main office. She lifts the lid, the screen briefly illuminating her face, which I can¡¯t see from this angle. She slides a new paper on, closes it, and taps the button, her hip popped, resting against the machine. Standing adjacent to her, watching the papers slide into the tray, is my dad, wearing a three piece suit, his hair styled in that suave way he does. He collects each paper as it slides into the tray, and puts it into a folder. The two of them are clearly having a conversation, and Averyughs, pressing her hand to her stomach. Dad dances his brows, and sheughs again, and I find myself tuning out Jon Whitmore¡¯s presentation on buying an Embassy Suites, and smiling with them. Whitmore knocks on the table, making my focus snap back to him. ¡°Are you even listening, Mercer?¡± I shrug. ¡°Yeah, I am.¡± I¡¯m not. And we¡¯re not buying up a dpidated old Embassy Suites. Restoration and renovation would be over fifty million alone. ¡°We¡¯re not in the business of flipping hotels, Jon.¡± He sinks back into his chair. ¡°Would you have said that if Roberta made this pitch?¡± My face twists in disgust at what he¡¯s insinuating. ¡°I know a good idea when I see it, and it doesn¡¯t matter to me if the ideaes from Roberta, or, I don¡¯t know, an asshole.¡± He chuckles humorlessly, tapping the eraser side of his pencil against his portfolio. ¡°Cute. I suppose I¡¯m the asshole, huh?¡± Dad looks around the space, but the office is pretty empty today. Roberta is out, and she took both Arnaud and Birdie with her. A few clerical staffers are around, but currently out for lunch. I can almost see his decision making process in real time. He peers around, his eyes moving over the small conference room window in which I¡¯m viewing him. He leans in, and right as he presses his lips to her throat, his hand restingfortably on her waist, Jon decides to track my gaze, and see exactly what I¡¯m focusing on, since it¡¯s clearly not him or his stupid presentation. My focus snaps to watching him watch my dad kiss Avery twice, the first on the throat, the next on her cheek. They resume copying, and if Jon hadn¡¯t looked at them in that precise second, he¡¯d never have known anything was between them. But I watched, because I¡¯m slowly bing obsessed with them, and he saw me watching. Jon¡¯s lips curve into a sinister grin as his mossy eyes slowly make their way back to mine. My stomach clenches in anticipation of the shit I¡¯m going to have to eat right now. ¡°Ahh, okay. So it wasn¡¯t nepotism that got you the listing.¡± ¡°Jon.¡± I say his name in warning, giving him the opportunity not to say something he¡¯ll regret. He bobs his head. ¡°It was a trade.¡± His grin widens. ¡°You get the listing, and he gets to fuck your wife. That¡¯s it, right? Daddy owns thepany, and gets to have your olddy, too.¡± ¡°Whitmore, that¡¯s enough.¡± My tone is all backbone, and no ying. In my periphery, there¡¯s movement, and I nce up for a moment to see Avery enter her office alone and close the door. My dad lingers in the hall, and his gaze catches mine. But I refocus on Jon. ¡°Hell, Mercer. I always wondered how you snagged that prime piece of ass. Now I know, it¡¯s because you¡¯re having daddye in with the big guns, isn¡¯t that right?¡± He leans forward, and if I leaned forward and swung, my fist would connect with his face, that¡¯s how close he is. ¡°You woo her with your money and let your dad fuck her, becuase you¡¯re a weak little bitch.¡± His words have me on my feet, circling the desk, but suddenly, my dad is in the conference room, closing and locking the door. There¡¯s very little he could say right now that would stop me from hitting Jon. I¡¯m willing to go to jail. I can paywyer fees. I¡¯ll go to court. My record is clean. Except, my dad doesn¡¯t stand between us, pressing a calm hand to each of our chests, offering words of rity and calm. Instead, he rolls the blinds closed. He doesn¡¯t talk me down but instead, outstretches his hand, palm up. ¡°Cufflinks.¡± I take them off, and Jon¡¯s face pales for a second, before switching back to arrogant, uproariousughter. ¡°Is this some kind of threat?¡± he asks, nodding toward my dad¡¯s palm where one of the two cufflinks rests. I ce the other one with the first, and roll up the sleeves on my dress shirt. ¡°I want you to know, for whatever it¡¯s worth, I¡¯m going to knock you out because I told you thest time you spoke about Avery that way to never do it again. And you just called her¨C¡± My dad interjects¨C ¡°a prime piece of ass, I believe it was.¡± I snap and nod, closing the few feet between me and Jon. ¡°That¡¯s what it was.¡± Jon looks between us, nostrils ring. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna hit me, Mercer,¡± he scoffs, but his eyes grow wide and he swallows. ¡°I¡¯ll sue you.¡± I close my fist and rear back, connecting with his cheek and jaw. Pain radiates through my fist, but the sight of Jon stumbling back, bringing his hands to his face then checking them for blood¡ªit¡¯s worth the pain. When he finally registers that I did hit him, and that my dad didn¡¯te in here as the CEO to stop workce violence, he snatches his papers from the table and walks backward toward the door. My dad reaches, getting the door for Jon. When he makes a move to leave, dad closes the door for a moment. ¡°Oh and, you¡¯re fired.¡± Jonughs. ¡°Becuase I¡¯m gonna sue?¡± Dad waves him off. ¡°No, no, feel free to do that. Sutton has no priors and we¡¯re basically friends with every judge andwyer in the city so, carry on with wasting your time and money on that. You¡¯re fired because of what my son said.¡± Dad steps forward, pressing his chest into Jon¡¯s. ¡°You were speaking ill of Avery, and that vites Mercer Properties code of conduct.¡± Jon just shakes his head,pletely defeated. Dad opens the door, and he leaves, not bothering with his office. He walks straight out the doors, into the lobby, only peering back at us as he steps on the elevator. He lifts his hand and gives me the finger right as the doors close. Dad faces me. ¡°He saw me kiss her, didn¡¯t he?¡± I nod. Dad looks at his feet. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I shouldn¡¯t do that at work.¡± I wait for him to lift his eyes, to look at me. I want to tell him that I think he should be able to do that at work, that I want him and Avery to feel free to explore and indulge in their feelings, because when I see it, it makes me feel happier and more fulfilled. But I can¡¯t, because he¡¯s already outside the conference room. ¡°I¡¯m going to go make some calls. Call thewyer and tell him what just happened and¡­ get our head hunter on the phone. See what we can do to get Jon reced.¡± I nod, and let him go, because he clearly isn¡¯t in the headspace to have the serious talk we need to have.
Avery blots at her cheeks with the tissue I hand her. She forces a hard exhale, trying to find calm. This is her fourth mini-breakdown in thest two weeks. I hate seeing her this way. ¡°I know it¡¯s hard but I think he¡¯s processing and working through stuff,¡± I tell her, and she nods her head, the same way she has every day for thest fourteen days each time my dad hase up in conversation. Which is every moment that we¡¯re home. Because he¡¯s not there. He¡¯s been staying at his ce for thest two weeks, telling us that until he gets Jon reced, it¡¯s easier for him to be right above the office. He¡¯s taken on Jon¡¯s clients and listings and the truth is, he is a lot busier and being above Mercer is clearly easier than being across town when ites to getting to the office and attending to work. All of that is true. But I know he¡¯s staying there because of how he¡¯s feeling. Since that day when he came into the conference room after Jon saw him kiss Avery, he¡¯s been battling this thing we¡¯re doing. I can see it in the way he longingly looks at Avery from across the office but when she catches his eyes, he looks away and busies himself with something or someone else. ¡°Yeah? So you really don¡¯t think it¡¯s just him taking over for Jon and trying to get that settled?¡± she asks, hope bubbling up in each word. She wants so hard for this to be nothing, because it was all going too well. We were doing so good, all three of us. I never lie to Avery. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I¡¯ll go to his ce tonight and talk with him, okay?¡± She nods, letting a relieved sigh slip past. ¡°Thank you, Sutt. I¡¯m sorry if I¡¯ve been pushy about this but¡­ I don¡¯t know, giving him space has felt so strange. Especially with how distant he¡¯s been at work.¡± He has been distant at work, and he¡¯s done a great job of chalking it all up to the sudden loss of a top grossing agent. But Roberta and Kat offered to take Jon¡¯s load¨Cthey both told me¨Cand my dad told them no. He¡¯s using Jon¡¯s absence, shielding the real reason that he, out of nowhere, needed space. ¡°Order in, take a bath, put a movie on. Just rx, okay? I want you to focus on rxing,¡± I tell her, fingerbing her blonde hair behind her back. She nods. ¡°Okay.¡± Another sniffle. ¡°I love you.¡± She presses her mouth to mine, and the unspoken fear we both share disappears for a moment as her tongue sweeps mine. ¡°I love you, too. Go run your bath. I¡¯ll order your favorite te while I¡¯m driving to Dad¡¯s.¡± She nods. ¡°I never get tired of you calling him Dad instead of Father.¡± I kiss her forehead, snatch my keys, and duck into the garage. I send my dad a text message. I¡¯ming over, alone. We need to talk. He reads it right away, but doesn¡¯t reply. That¡¯s okay. He can save all of his talking for twenty minutes from now, when we¡¯re face to face. We¡¯ve given him two weeks. Now Avery is really starting toe unraveled. I can¡¯t make her wait any longer. I can¡¯t wait either.
He pulls open the door, and the scent of whiskey hits my nose first, then¡­ perfume. I push inside, past him, and look around, heart racing, pulse spiked. He invited a woman over? While we¡¯re clearly in the midst of figuring things out? He promised he wouldn¡¯t see anyone while he was sleeping with Avery and¡ª my eyes fall to a small ss bottle, the shape of a heel. I recognize it right away. Then the scent I¡¯m smelling registers. I walk through the space, stepping over a box and pile of clothing, and pick up the bottle. ¡°Avery¡¯s perfume?¡± He shoves a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh that could move mountains. ¡°I saw it in a shop window the other day.¡± I push newspapers off the couch cushion and sit down. His ce looks like a bomb went off. ¡°Your cleaning crew on vacation or what?¡± He waves me off, sitting in a chair across from me, on top of a suit bag. ¡°I gave them time off. I didn¡¯t want anyone here.¡± I lift a ss from his table, and sniff. There was whiskey in here at some point, I just don¡¯t know when. I set the ss back down. ¡°Find a recement for Jon?¡± I¡¯m surprised when he nods his head, because he¡¯s been holed up in his office at work thest two weeks, too. I thought for sure that while at work he was actually working with the headhunter to get a recement. But now, I question if all of this was just a ruse to avoid us. To avoid the truth. ¡°I found an agent at Damford that wanted toe here. He knows Kat, I guess,¡± he says, his voice devoid of life or energy. ¡°I hired him. He¡¯s starting next week.¡± Content originallyes from Find_Novel(. I nod my head, and say that I¡¯m thinking, because I have no preamble in me knowing that Avery is at home upset. ¡°What was going to be your excuse to avoid us on Monday when he starts?¡± Dad smirks. ¡°Training him.¡± I volley my head. ¡°Not sure that would¡¯ve worked considering we aren¡¯t IT analysts and there is quite literally nothing to train him on.¡± Dad nods. ¡°I know.¡± We sit in silence for a few minutes. I don¡¯t feel the pressure to say anything, and he must not either. But one sh of Avery in my mind and I lean back on the couch, and cross one leg over the other, gripping my ankle as I stare at my dad. ¡°When are youing home?¡± I ask him, because he knows as well as I do that our house has be his home. Avery is his home, the way she is mine. I know he knows it, and I believe that¡¯s why he¡¯s here. Hiding out. He¡¯s scared of how he feels, and probably what it means for me. When he lifts his gaze from his socked feet, his eyes are glistening. ¡°I can¡¯t, Sutton.¡± He swallows against his raging emotions. ¡°It¡¯s over.¡± Father Knows Best: Chapter 29 The Fear I can¡¯t believe those words came out of my mouth, but more than that, I can¡¯t believe Sutton¡¯s reaction. Calm, undisturbed, unbothered. ¡°Did you hear me?¡± I ask him, because his face has not changed from his usual business casual impassiveness. He nods. ¡°I heard you.¡± He shrugs out of his suit jacket, and nces at his watch before holding up a finger to me. Retrieving his cell phone from his pocket, Sutton calls Avery, but he doesn¡¯t put her on speakerphone. He keeps her voice to himself, and only hearing soft reverberations of her has me on edge. ¡°The delivery should¨Coh? Right now? Okay, well, I¡¯ll join you when I¡¯m done here.¡± He holds my eyes while he talks to her. ¡°Yes, I will. Okay. I will.¡± He ends the call, and shoves the phone away. ¡°Tell me why you think you can¡¯t,¡± my son says, rolling his neck out as he settles on the couch covered in weeks worth ofziness. I shrug, picking up an undershirt from where my feet rest, and fold it up, setting it on a stack of papers. ¡°Sutton, look, you don¡¯t want me in your marriage. Come on, let¡¯s just talk about the fact that what¡¯s transpired so far has been¡­ strange. And once the eroticism of all of this wears off for Avery, she¡¯s not gonna want me around. You¡¯re not gonna want me around.¡± I shake my head. ¡°Think it through, think about it rationally.¡± He wastes zero time in responding. ¡°I have. And so has Avery. And yes, it¡¯s not conventional, sure, I¡¯ll give you that. But when has convention stopped you from doing anything? You watched me hit an employee, for Christ¡¯s sake.¡± He taps his foot on the ground, still dressed in his work clothes. As soon as I got home, I changed into sweats because heartache and sweatpants have a real nice marriage. ¡°Tell me what¡¯s holding you back. Do you not want to share someone? Do you feel like you can¡¯t live your life with us? Do you not want to? You can tell me the truth, you know. You always can.¡± I can¡¯t help but think about Margot in that moment, and the choice I made to protect her identity from her son when she passed. I always said I¡¯d make the same choice again, but the truth is, I don¡¯t think Sutton would want me to make that choice again. I think he¡¯d rather have been close to his only alive parent than idolize the one no longer here. I think telling him the truth now is crucial. I haven¡¯t lied, but I haven¡¯t been as direct as I could be. ¡°I would never forgive myself for changing things with you and Avery.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t forgive yourself,¡± Sutton says, ¡°thank yourself. Because you have changed us, both, for the better. You fixed us, but you made us see who we really are and what we need, and neither of us can move forward without you.¡± ¡°You really feel that way?¡± My heart is racing, but so are my thoughts. My son is a bigger, more mature, loving man than I am or ever was. He nods. ¡°Yes. Do you know me to be a liar?¡± I shake my head. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Okay, then. Now, I have a sneaking suspicion of the answer to this question, I think the answer is something you realized, and that¡¯s why you¡¯ve been avoiding us for weeks.¡± I don¡¯t say anything. He continues. ¡°Are you in love with Avery?¡± he asks. I don¡¯t disrespect Avery by hesitating. ¡°Yes.¡± He gets to his feet and outstretches his hand. ¡°Perfect.¡± I get to my feet to shake his hand, but he pulls me up onto my feet instead. ¡°Get dressed.¡± ¡°I am dressed.¡± We both survey my outfit of tube socks, sweats, and a v-neck white t-shirt that has a whiskey stain on it. ¡°I¡¯ll change.¡± I stop halfway across the space, right at the hallway opening. ¡°Where we going?¡± Sutton pulls his phone from his pocket, and reads something on the brightened screen before he locks it. ¡°Actually, we¡¯re going to a property in the Haight. Roberta made ate night sale, and stopped by our ce to grab the spare keys from the safe.¡± I scratch the side of my jaw, ready for my barber appointment tomorrow. ¡°Why are we going there? Didn¡¯t she get the key from Avery?¡± I catalog the keys in my safe in my mind. ¡°I don¡¯t have keys for anything in the Haight.¡± He smiles. ¡°Avery got her the keys from my safe. But she went with Roberta, because she was waiting for me and didn¡¯t feel like being alone much longer. We¡¯re going to pick her up, and the three of us will talk.¡± The implication of his words makes the back of my neck heat. He seems so confident in everything, of his n, his belief that his wife feels and wants the same. But his whole life, though I gave him little reason, Sutton trusted me. Trusted me to guide him into a good career, to teach him everything I know, to help him make the best life¨Call of it. It¡¯s time I trust him, too. I hook my thumb down the hallway leading to the master suite. ¡°I¡¯ll go change.¡± A few minutester, after I¡¯ve thrown on some jeans and a ck pullover, I find my living room nearly cleaned, and Sutton waiting against the doorframe, head tipped down toward his phone. ¡°I¡¯m ready, and hey, thanks for picking up,¡± I tell him, but he bypasses myment. ¡°Avery¡¯s phone location isn¡¯t showing up,¡± he says with a frown. I¡¯m not looking forward to spilling my feelings, but I am looking forward to seeing her, and getting past this awkward phase. I shrug. ¡°Probably a service thing. Let¡¯s head over there.¡± We get in the town car and head over, but I can¡¯t stop bouncing my leg. Sutton is unable to reach Avery, even still. Original content can be found at FindN0vel Father Knows Best: Chapter 30 The Secret ¡°You sure? You¡¯re allfy and food is on the way,¡± Roberta says, taking a sip from my Diet Coke. I nce at my watch, knowing where Sutton is and what he¡¯s up to, I realize this may not be a quick visit, and I don¡¯t feel like sitting home alone with my thoughts. Sushi and Real Housewives only go so far. ¡°Positive. Just let me change my clothes?¡± I walk backward toward the staircase while showcasing my jammies. ¡°I know this is a look, but I think leggings and a sweatshirt could be better. I¡¯ll grab the keys when I¡¯m up there.¡± She waves me off, settling into the barstool, finishing my drink while focused on her phone. ¡°Go, I¡¯m just gonna tell the buyer we¡¯re about twenty minutes out.¡± Upstairs, after locating the envelope in the safe with the extra set of keys, I toss it onto the bed and pull on a pair of leggings. Adding one of Sutton¡¯s hoodies¨Cwhich quite actually turns me on because I love his smell so much¨CI slip into some Birkenstocks, grab the envelope and head down. Roberta is still on her phone, this time, texting. She looks up when I flick off the light over the sink. ¡°Ready?¡± She nods. ¡°Yeah. They¡¯re going to meet us at the house. They wanna make sure the keys work, and they have something for me.¡± ¡°Sounds good. You wanna drive two cars? That way you don¡¯t have toe back and drop me off when we¡¯re done?¡± She tucks a long piece of dark hair back into her carefully styled updo, using one of her long, French manicured nails. ¡°No way,e with me and I¡¯ll drive you back. What else do I have to do?¡± I wiggle my brows. ¡°No hot dates?¡± She pulls open the door, allowing me to exit to the back drive first. ¡°I would take a regr date at this point. I¡¯m not even asking for hot anymore. Just normal.¡± ¡°A lot of weirdos out there?¡± I ask as we walk toward her car. She clicks her remote and the lights sh, the doors unlocking for us. I settle into the passenger seat as she walks around the front, then joins me inside. ¡°Thest business executive I went out with turned out to be lying about being a business executive,¡± she says, twisting the key in the ignition. ¡°I looked him up on LinkedIn. He told me he was corporate finance for Bank of America, but his LinkedIn said he was corporate marketing for Ikea. When I asked him, he admitted he sells hotdogs at the bodega on Mason Street.¡± She flips her blinker on as she pulls out of the private drive, onto the main road. ¡°He borrowed the suit he wore to dinner from his grandpa. I¡¯m not even kidding.¡± I can¡¯t help butugh, and Roberta does, too. ¡°That¡¯s not even the worst of it,¡± she tells me, guiding the car into downtown traffic not more than two minutester. San Francisco is so strange that way¡ªyou can be tucked into a luxurious home on a hill one moment, and in the street next to businesses and city life another moment. I love it. The dichotomy of two beautiful and fulfilling lifestyles, one private and romantic, the other vibrant and loud. I think of Geo and Sutton, and how they¡¯re that same dichotomy, and how the metaphor spans powerfully along many aspects of my life. I love the huge unstaged mansions, seeing their raw potential and exploring them when they¡¯re bare and empty, at their lowest. And I love filling them with beautiful things, and revisiting them when they¡¯ve changed from space to home. Both versions, to me, are beautiful. After hearing about a man who peed his pants during dinner, and another who couldn¡¯t remember her name by the end of the date, we arrive at the property, a burgundy Rolls Royce parked on the curb. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sorry the dating scene is so harsh. Once you stop looking, you¡¯ll find him,¡± I tell her, popping open my door. She opens her door, and we each have one leg out. ¡°Says the woman married to Sutton Mercer.¡± I can¡¯t help but smile just hearing his name in that context, where it¡¯s passively suggested that he is simply the gold standard. ¡°I wasn¡¯t looking for anyone when I met him, though.¡± We get out and close our doors, and Roberta links her arm with mine, still wearing her heels. ¡°Birks were smart,¡± she says, ncing down at the custom cobblestone drive. ¡°Yeah, well, they don¡¯t really go with your outfit.¡± She holds onto me as we make our way toward the front doors, finding them open, the clients having a conversation in the foyer. ¡°Roberta, we¡¯re so sorry,¡± the woman¡ªwearing a fur coat, an actual fur coat¡ªsays, diamonds glittering from her wrist and ears. Roberta passes the envelope to the man she¡¯s with¨Can older gentleman with abover, wearing a three-piece suit and shiny dress shoes. He reaches into the envelope and fishes the keys out, holding up one finger. Closing the door, he uses the key to lock and unlock it, proving that these are indeed the correct keys. ¡°That¡¯s perfect! Just great!¡± the man says to Roberta after opening the front door again. ¡°Thank you so much. This is Kitty¡¯s dream home.¡± Discover more novels at Find_Novel(. We exchange a few pleasantries before saying goodbye, and the couple¨Cwho insisted Roberta bring the spare keys tonight, after hours¨Cgets into their fancy car and drives off. Roberta, arm still looped through mine, walks carefully on the cobblestones back to her car. ¡°Millionaires are so illogical. You buy a multi-million dor home but then¡­ don¡¯t want to pay to get it rekeyed?¡± I shake my head,ughing. ¡°Unnecessary expense,¡± I tease her, and she tips her head back, moonlight spilling over us as she steps out from beneath arge birch, a few feet from the car. ¡°Oh yes,¡± sheughs, ¡°why have it rekeyed when we can have the agent running all over town to bring a spare set we¡¯ll never us¨C¡± Just a foot from Roberta¡¯s car, her high heels lose the battle against the cobblestones, her heel wedging tightly between a filled spot in the ground. She loses her bnce, and her purse flies through the air, her piercing scream making my lungs seize. ¡°Roberta!¡± I shout helplessly as she tips backward. At thest minute, I reach for her, and she does the same, only, I don¡¯t prevent her from falling. I instead fall with her. And the front of my Birkenstock is the exact width of the gap between the stones underneath me, and my foot gets pinched immovably on the way down. I have just enough seconds to realize I¡¯m about to st, so I brace my hands and close my eyes. It¡¯s not the light tumble against the stone that hurts. It¡¯s my foot. No, my ankle. Laughing, Roberta turns her head to face me, both of us on our backs on the ground, me with one leg bent, since I can¡¯t move my foot. ¡°Oh Jesus, I¡¯m d no one was here to see that!¡± she says, her chest bouncing with herughter. Iugh a little until ¨C ¡°Oh my god!¡± I screech when out of nowhere, pain hits. So much pain. Twisty, achy, stabbing pain running loops around my ankle and my shin. ¡°My ankle! Oh my god! My ankle!¡± I lift my head from the ground, but can¡¯t see my foot from how I¡¯m positioned. ¡°Roberta, my foot is stuck. I think my ankle¨C¡± She sits up, nodding her head, eyes wide. ¡°Let me just look, okay?¡± I watch her face as she twists her gaze, peering down at my foot. Expressionless, she simply says, ¡°Something¡¯s definitely not right.¡± ¡°Oh no.¡± I dig my phone from my pocket, but discover that I must¡¯vended on it. The screen is shattered and dark, and the button on the side to turn it on does not work. Roberta opens the passenger door of her car, and kicks off her heels for better footing as she loops her arms beneath my arm pits. ¡°Okay, use your good foot if you can, I just need you to leverage your weight enough for me to get you two feet over, okay?¡± she says, then, on her count, she lifts me. We¡¯re both grunting as she bears half my weight, me the other half, on one foot. She nudges me toward the open door and I hop twice before she¡¯s helping me put my hurt foot into the car. ¡°I can hardly move it,¡± I tell her, panic clinging to my voice. Pain sears up my leg and down my foot, and¨C ¡°oh my god, Roberta, I can¡¯t move my toes!¡± She tosses her purse into the backseat, eyes wide. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m sure that¡¯s your body¡¯s response to the injury. It¡¯s shutting down to prevent further pain.¡± I shake my head, sweat bubbling up at my temples from the raw searing pain. ¡°I think that¡¯s your stomach with food poisoning.¡± We blink at one another for a split second before she shakes her head, waving off any of our knowledge. ¡°We aren¡¯t doctors, okay? Watching Grey¡¯s and medical TikToks does not make us qualified to get you so freaked out. I¡¯m gonna close the door and then I¡¯m gonna take you to the ER. And people who have gone to school for years will decide if you¡¯re gonna lose your toes, okay?¡± She closes the door and rushes around the front of the car. I never thought I was going to lose my toes, and I¡¯m not prone to being a panicked person but all of the sudden, I¡¯m hot and sweaty and overwhelmed with the urge to be sick. Roberta ms her door closed, and reaches behind her to dig out her phone. ¡°Wh-what are you doing?¡± I ask her, rolling the window down now that the car is started. I suck in a lungful of bay air, letting it soothe me as much as I can. I reach into the center console and sip on a bottle of water that¡¯s probably been there too long, but it¡¯s better than nothing. ¡°Calling Sutton back. He¡¯s going to likely kill me for this,¡± she says, but I grab her phone from her hand. ¡°Please just get us there. I¡¯ll call him¡ª¡± I start to promise I¡¯ll contact him, but a biting pain grabs hold, and her phone falls to myp as my hands go to my knee. ¡°Oh my god,¡± I breathe as she navigates out of the private neighborhood, toward Zuckerberg hospital, which is nearest. ¡°What? What¡¯s wrong?¡¯ She asks, splitting her focus between me and the somewhat quiet city streets. ¡°My knee,¡± I tell her, leaning toward the open sliver of the window. I rest my head on the door, and suck down the cool air, taking deep breaths, forcing my eyes to stay closed to help quiet my brain. It¡¯s Monday, and it¡¯s after eight. Not many people are out, and the drive to the ER is supposed to take about twelve minutes, ording to the map inside Roberta¡¯s car. She talks the whole time¡ªcursing her high heels, herself, apologizing, cursing the clients for making us go down there, cursing the man or woman who invented cobblestone, then cursing the person who decided cobblestone is best on a sloped driveway with no sidewalk. By the time we¡¯re at the ER, I¡¯ve been giggling andughing enough to be distracted from the pain a bit, and have calmed down almostpletely. A man in green scrubs helps me into a wheelchair, and rolls me from the front doors back into a triage area. After she parks, Roberta meets me in the triage area, and gets out her phone to call Sutton. ¡°Mrs. Mercer,¡± a woman says, pushing past the cart of supplies and pinned-back curtain to enter the small space. I sit on a table wrapped in white paper, and Roberta sits in the rolling little doctor¡¯s chair, but jumps to her feet the moment the woman enters. ¡°Wow,¡± she says, lips turned down in surprise. ¡°She¡¯s getting seen already?¡± The doctor looks between Roberta and myself. ¡°Mondays are slow at this hospital.¡± I nce at the name sewn into her coat. Dr. Richards. She touches my foot while a nurse bustles in, taking my blood pressure and temperature, asking to copy my insurance card and what my date of birth is. It¡¯s decided rtively quickly that I need an X-ray, but before that, she orders a blood draw. The nurse who takes my blood disappears, and reappears with another wheelchair. ¡°Alright honey, getting you up to X-ray.¡± Roberta gets to her feet. ¡°Where can I wait?¡± The nurse doesn¡¯t even look at her. ¡°The waiting room.¡± Roberta pushes my hair back, and gives me a timid smile. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry about all this, Avery. I¡¯m gonna call Sutton now, okay?¡± I wiggle my toes and nod to them. ¡°Look, I can move my toes. Don¡¯t feel bad.¡± The nurse locks the wheel on the wheelchair before helping me into it. I say goodbye to Roberta, handing her all my belongings to keep until Sutton arrives. The hospital is cool and somewhat dark, and Dr. Richards was right¨Chardly anyone is here. The nurse uses her badge to get us into a series of hallways and doors, and though the pain is easing a little bit, and I know my toes are still working, I find myself suddenly feeling a rush of sickness from the pain. I grip the arms of the wheelchair and close my eyes, hoping the X-ray is somewhere near us so I don¡¯t get motion sickness and puke everywhere. The nurse lets us into a room, where the X-ray technician looks to be cleaning down some of their machines. The two of them talk, and I watch them through the thick, noise-proof ss. Their heads turn to face me, and then my nurse holds up a finger. She moves across the room to theputer on wheels, and starts to type. The technician nods, and continues wiping the machine. A momentter, the nurse reappears, grinning. ¡°Okay, we¡¯re all ready for you.¡± The technician reappears with arge lead apron. He sets it aside as they help me on the gurney, and when I¡¯m lying t, he pulls the apron over my abdomen and chest. ¡°That okay?¡± I nod. ¡°If it¡¯s just my foot¨C¡± He smiles. ¡°They want your hips and knees, too, sweetie. Gotta make sure nothing got twisted beyond that ankle. Normally you¡¯d just stand up against our screen there,¡± he says, pointing to the X-ray area with ces marked on the floor for feet. ¡°But you can¡¯t stand, so we¡¯re improvising.¡± I nod. ¡°I guess that makes sense.¡± ¡°And this lead nket is to keep you and the baby safe. But don¡¯t worry, non-abdominal X-rays are safe. Now just lie back and try really, really hard not to move. I¡¯m going to take a picture, check my screen, and repeat that about five times, okay?¡± He gets to work, angling the portable X-ray above me toward my hips first. He does what he says, moving the machine then going back to hisputer. I don¡¯t know how long he moves around or does what he does because¡­ I¡¯m pregnant.
The X-rays don¡¯t take much time at all, and when the nurse rolls me back into a room to wait for Dr. Richards toe take a look, she asks if I¡¯d like Roberta to wait with me. When Robertaes back, she¡¯s brought me a coffee and tells me that Sutton and Geo are on the way. The nurse wraps my ankle and foot in a crepe bandage, meant to keep the injury tight andpressed for the first week. I watch the woman work on my foot, but can¡¯t take my mind off of Sutton and his dad. I smooth my hand over my head, hoping that they got the chance to finish their talk before this call came in. After all, I hadn¡¯t heard from Sutton since he left. I assumed that meant they were in the thick of it, and now that I know that I¡¯m pregnant, I can¡¯t seem to care about my knee or foot or whatever else is hurt. I hardly feel the pain at all anymore. I just want them to have their talk, so we can make things right with us. It¡¯s more important than ever before. ¡°You okay?¡± Roberta asks after I¡¯ve stared at the surface of the coffee for too long. I look up at her. ¡°You know what they told me?¡± She shrugs. ¡°I¡¯m pregnant.¡± Her eyes widen. ¡°Avery Mercer!¡± she squeals. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you guys were trying!¡± She looks at her watch, as if to do reverse math. ¡°Wait. The wedding was just?¡ª¡± ¡°Four weeks. You¡¯re about four weeks along,¡± Dr. Richards says, clicking the small door closed behind her. She turns on the light boxes and shoves a few of my X-rays in them, narrowing her eyes at the cloudy images before her. ¡°What I thought.¡± She clicks the light box off and shoves the images into a man folder. Her stern face focuses on me. ¡°No break. Hips, knees and ankles all look good. Just a bad sprain.¡± She scribbles on a pad and hands it to me. ¡°Because you¡¯re pregnant, use these sparingly, only when absolutely necessary. Otherwise, Tylenol should do the trick. RICE therapy. Rest, ice,pression and elevation. Stay off it for a few days. It¡¯s a bad sprain, but just a sprain.¡± ¡°Thank you so much,¡± I say, then reach for Roberta. The doctor stops me. ¡°Hospital policy. You¡¯re going out in the wheelchair.¡± She ces a hand on my shoulder to ease me back down. On her way out, she stops, peering down at Roberta¡¯s satin pumps. She points at them, but looks at me. ¡°Were you wearing shoes like that when this happened?¡± I wiggle my good foot with the Birkenstock on it. ¡°Nope, just a klutz.¡± She smiles, and the nurse rolls me to a payment station in the hallway, where I swipe my card for the services, and Roberta taps away at her phone. When we¡¯re done, the nurse passes the reins to Roberta, and she rolls me out. Sutton and Geo are the first people I see when we turn the corner to the lobby, and my stomach flutters at the sight of them. I search their faces for any traces of what may have been discussed or concluded, but instead only find concern. So much concern. Sutton sees me, and rushes toward me, dropping to a knee at my feet. ¡°What happened? Are you okay? Who did you see?¡± He looks down to my foot, his handsing to hold it sensitively, cautiously, like he doesn¡¯t want to break me. Geo is by his side in a matter of seconds, his soft eyes on mine. He hasn¡¯t spoken, but stands stiffly by Sutt¡¯s side, assessing. ¡°It¡¯s my fault. We were at the house in the Haight and I slipped on the cobblestone, and took her down with me. Only, she got hurt and I didn¡¯t.¡± Roberta ces her palm across her forehead, guilt leaving heavy bags beneath her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry again, Avery.¡± I squeeze her hand and release it, then pay my attention to Sutton and Geo. ¡°It¡¯s a sprain. They did an X-ray and nothing is broken or out of ce. It just hurts a lot and I need to stay off it for a week but otherwise, I¡¯m okay. I guess rushing down here was kind of a false rm. I just¡­ thought it was broken because it hurt so bad.¡± Roberta passes Sutton a card. ¡°Dr. Richards, and yes I got her card because I figured you¡¯d want it.¡± She hands him the prescription and medical paperwork, too. ¡°And here¡¯s her discharge paperwork.¡± ¡°You¡¯re okay?¡± Geo finally says, his voice hoarse and thin. Sutt weaves his fingers with mine and kisses my knuckles, eyes on me as he replies. ¡°She¡¯s okay, everything is going to be okay. Just a slip.¡± ¡°Your phone wasn¡¯t working. We¨C¡± Geo stops and restarts. ¡°Sutton couldn¡¯t get a hold of you.¡± I fish the broken phone from my purse and show them. ¡°Inded on it. It¡¯s toast.¡± Geo nods his head, and Sutton nces back at him. ¡°She¡¯s okay. It¡¯s okay.¡± Roberta¡¯s browse together. ¡°Sutton Mercer, are you actually calm and collected? I thought for sure you¡¯d have my ass for letting Avery get hurt. Marriage has softened you,¡± she teases. ¡°You didn¡¯t let me get hurt,¡± I tell her. Sutton looks up at Roberta, and his words leave my chest hollow. ¡°I had to be collected.¡± He tips his head toward Geo. ¡°He was freaking out.¡± I caution a quick nce at Roberta, who watches Geo as he bends, pushes my hair from my cheek, then kisses me. His lips drag to my ear, where he kisses me again, then below it, for a third kiss. One kiss on the cheek is already pushing it where a father-inw is concerned, but three kisses? Two of those being on the neck? It¡¯s so private, giving so much insight (or confusion) into us. Sutton, my husband, doesn¡¯t even like kissing me that way in public. But Geo is not Sutton, and that¡¯s kind of the whole fucking point. ¡°I¡¯m d you¡¯re okay, sweetheart,¡± Geo says, then boldly presses his mouth to mine. When the kiss ends, I look at Sutton, shocked at his dad¡¯s actions, but when I find his eyes soft and a gentle smile curving his lips, I realize that their talk was good. Things must have led in a good direction. Still, Geo just kissed me in front of Roberta and I do not know what to say or do. Sutton, realizing why my eyes are hysterically stered against him, gets to his feet, standing squarely between Geo and Roberta. ¡°Roberta, listen¨C¡± She stops him with a hand leveled horizontally between us. ¡°Nope. Don¡¯t feel like you have to share something you¡¯re not ready to share just because we ended up at the hospital tonight.¡± Sutton strokes a hand over his head, tousling his hair, and exhaling. ¡°Thank you.¡± She smiles. ¡°Call me tomorrow, let me know how you¡¯re doing.¡± ¡°I will,¡± I tell her, knowing full well that my foot will be thest thing we talk about. And when we get home, I have a feeling my foot and this injury is thest thing toe up. Father Knows Best: Chapter 31 The I Love You On the drive home, Geo and Sutt hammer me for specifics about the pain I¡¯m still in, and how thorough the attending doctor was. They grumble about the client even asking Roberta to make a call thatte, and decide in no uncertain terms that they will no longer allow key drops thatte. I tried to exin to them that time of day had nothing to do with what happened, but still, they decided. They also decided that I should get a round of second X-rays at another hospital, which I¡¯m definitely not going to do, but I don¡¯t tell them that now. Sutton carries me inside, while Geo holds the door and gets a ce ready for me on the couch. Sutt runs upstairs to change, but when he¡¯s back down, he asks me what I need. I decide that grilled cheese is good, since the sushi has been sitting on the porch for a few hours now and my stomach has been rumbling and washy since the drive to the hospital. He disappears into the kitchen, and a momentter, dressed in his sweats and a t-shirt, Geo appears, shoulder pressed to the doorframe. ¡°I¡¯m d you¡¯re okay.¡± He strides across the room and sits next to me, pulling my feet into hisp. Sutt pops his head around the corner. ¡°Put the pillow in yourp so her feet stay elevated, Dad.¡± Geo pulls the pillow onto his legs, and lowers my feet over him, gently. ¡°How¡¯s the pain?¡± I shrug. The adrenaline is still going, because I don¡¯t know where we stand, and I haven¡¯t told them the news. ¡°It¡¯s okay. It¡¯s just a sprain.¡± He nods, and our eyes idle together like two teens with a crush. ¡°Avery, I¡¯m in love with you.¡± I blink at him, heart thudding madly in my chest, palms suddenly mmy, eyes misty. Sutton appears between the kitchen and living space, a dishtowel draped over his shoulder. I look up at my husband, who wasn¡¯t in the room but is clearly, without a doubt, aware of what Geo has just said. ¡°Did you tell him?¡± I ask. Geo looks at Sutt with a dip in his brow, watching as Sutton staunchly shakes his head no. ¡°Tell me what?¡± Geo asks. I swallow against the knot in my throat. It¡¯s a lump of happiness wedged there, and a good lump in my throat. ¡°I just told Sutton that I¡¯m in love with you. And that you being gone so long was making me worried that we were going to lose you. That maybe you don¡¯t want the same things.¡± Geo looks at his son. Sutton nods his head. ¡°It¡¯s true.¡± I y with the hem of the nket Geo draped over my legs after Sutton lowered me to the couch earlier. ¡°Were you really trying to find a recement for Jon, or were you avoiding this?¡± Geo strokes a hand through his hair, looking at my toes as he massages my good foot. A moment passes and he finally looks at me. ¡°I was avoiding how I felt. I didn¡¯t think there¡¯d be a ce for me after too long, so I was trying very hard not to be attached. I found a recement for Jon and was going to remove myself from the equation, to protect myself, when Sutton showed up.¡± Sutton, who had left the room, reappears with one te stacked with three grilled cheese sandwiches. He sits on the table in front of us, and passes me a sandwich wrapped in a paper towel. Asiago and cheddar flood my tastebuds on the first bite, and I roll my eyes back in delight. ¡°Sutt, this is so good.¡± He wipes cheese from the corner of my mouth, then licks his thumb. ¡°It¡¯s unconventional, a woman sleeping with her husband and her husband¡¯s father. It¡¯s highly unconventional for her to be in love with both, too. But Avery, this is the happiest you¡¯ve ever been. And this is the happiest I¡¯ve ever been and I think¨C¡± For more chapters visit find?novel Geo nods. ¡°It¡¯s not something I thought I¡¯d ever be a part of but now I think if I couldn¡¯t be here, giving you what you need, and spending this part of my life getting to know my son better¡­ I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do.¡± The room falls silent as the three of us think, but with my excitement on the line, I can¡¯t seem to table it one more second. ¡°Tell me you¡¯re here to stay, for good. Please.¡± I wipe at the desperate tears leaking from my eyes. He cups my cheek. ¡°I am.¡± We share a kiss, and after, Sutton and I do, too. It¡¯s perfect. Sutton passes his dad a grilled cheese. ¡°Let¡¯s celebrate with fat and carbs so Avery can take her Tramadol.¡± Geo¡¯s brows lift, and he reaches to the side table where he ced my prescription. ¡°Give her the full dose so she sleeps well,¡± Sutton advises. Geo studies thebel. ¡°I think we give her one now and wait until she wants to move up to our room, then give her the second then.¡± Our room. Those two words smashed togethering from George Mercer? Everything I wanted to hear after hearing Sutton say I do. I can¡¯t wait a moment longer. I take the pill bottle from Geo¡¯s hands and pass it to Sutton. ¡°Toss it. I can¡¯t take those.¡± ¡°The hell you can¡¯t, Avery. The doctor wants you taking these, so you need to be taking them,¡± Sutton asserts, with Geo adding in, ¡°that¡¯s right, honey. It may not hurt that bad now but¨C¡± ¡°No,¡± I say, smiling. I take Sutton¡¯s hand in mine, and find Geo¡¯s hand, cing it on my leg. ¡°I¡¯m pregnant.¡± Sutton¡¯s eyes grow shiny in a matter of seconds. ¡°Avery.¡± I nod my head. ¡°I was nervous when Roberta gave you the paperwork¨C¡± ¡°I nned on reading it in bed tonight,¡± he says, making me smile and Geo snort. ¡°See? That¡¯s why this works. He nned on reading your medical chart and I nned on making your toes curl.¡± I smile. ¡°Is it selfish to want both?¡± In unison, they answer. ¡°No.¡± Sutton shakes his head, disbelief running through his features for a moment before a tear slips. I wipe it away, and kiss his lips. ¡°I¡¯m four weeks, ording to the bloodwork. I probably wouldn¡¯t have known for another few had I not fallen down, so tonight was a good thing, in a way.¡± ¡°Tonight has been exceptional,¡± Geo says. We eat our grilled cheese, Sutt and Geo deciding they¡¯re going to give up whiskey and wine with me. We sip Diet Cokes and talk about the pregnancy, which room will be the nursery and, at the end of the night, discuss putting Geo¡¯s home on the market. When we head to bed shortly after, in the bathroom, the three of us brushing our teeth¡ªme on the counter, the two of them standing¨Csomething urs to me. ¡°You kissed me in front of Roberta.¡± We both look at Sutton. ¡°We have a few conversations to have, but we start where it matters. Family.¡± I wrinkle my nose. ¡°My parents will never understand this.¡± Sutton shakes his head. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. They are your folks, baby. They deserve to know, and Dad isn¡¯t a secret.¡± I love how much he wants to protect his father¡¯s feelings. I love him so much for it. ¡°I know. You¡¯re right. I want them to know, I just want to be on the other side of telling them, you know?¡± Geo spits mint toothpaste into the sink basin, and rinses his mouth. ¡°We¡¯ll tell Ford, Cade and Kat, then your parents, all on the same day. It¡¯ll be a family affair.¡± Sutton drops his toothbrush into the stand. ¡°It kind of already is, no?¡± We head to bed, and though my lower half is humming for excitement and touch, the three of us are exhausted and fall into a deep sleep before anything fun can happen. But it¡¯s okay. I know now that I have a lifetime of funny business with them. And I can¡¯t wait. Father Knows Best: epilogue The Kinky Happily Ever After Three yearster. When Margot gave birth to Sutton, it changed me. A sense of responsibility, pride and awe washed over me that day in the hospital, and as his tiny hand wrapped one of my fingers, I knew I¡¯d dedicate my life to doing whatever I could to be the best father I could. It changed me, all for the better. I stopped partying, I quit excessively drinking, I stayed home and invested in my life there¡ªmy life as a father. My personality, however, didn¡¯t change much. I¡¯ve always been extroverted and buoyant, and as a lifelong salesman, I think that¡¯s just who I am. When we first learned that Avery was pregnant, I wondered how bing a father would change Sutton. I realize that having a different sexual appetite than myself doesn¡¯t make him uptight, and having less adventurous needs doesn¡¯t make him boring. And I love Sutton just as he is ¨C highly intelligent, a quick learner, generous, kind and a killer dry sense of humor. But in the past, I¡¯ve always felt that he¡¯s boxed himself into a persona that can¡¯t do certain things simply because he hasn¡¯t. When I entered the picture, that ideology softened, and while his needs and desires never evolved, he loosened the restrictions he ced on his own happiness. In short, he¡¯d gotten a little kinkier where Avery is concerned. Truth be told, I liked to see it, for his sake. And hers. Now, though, as a father, he¡¯s changed and grown so much. He¡¯s allowed himself to explore things that previously felt ufortable and foreign to him, and has unexpectedly discovered new pleasures. I knew it would happen, and I¡¯m so d to see him allow himself to explore. Avery and I would love him no matter what he likes, because of who he is, but seeing him bloom in these years as life changes and evolves all around us, and still take the risks to discover more¨CI¡¯m proud. ¡°Pondering life?¡± Avery asks, dragging her nails along the tops of my shoulders as she passes by,ing around the couch to join me. She curls her legs beneath herself and leans against me. After she gave birth to her and Sutton¡¯s son, Milo, Avery traded her long locks in favor of a bob, which looked stunning. After our son Scout was born, her bob had grown back out, she cut it again, this time at her shoulders, withyers, and some dark honey colored strands. I reach out, tucking a newly colored piece back, exposing the diamonds on her ears. That was her push gift from me. Sutton got her a new diamond ring for his push gift, and it was then we collectively decided, diamonds are what she receives from us when she has a baby. I have a child with Avery. When I rock him to sleep before bed, or sway him in my arms in the office on the days that we go in for a sliver of normality, I find myself getting lost in his eyes, the way he smells, and the warmth of him against me. Reminds me of holding Sutton that way. Coming full circle and getting to be a father again, being such a core part of my son and grandson¡¯s lives, and getting to raise my son with his sibling¨Cit¡¯s been a blessing. And all of it is possible because of the woman sitting next to me right now. ¡°Kind of,¡± I tell her honestly. It¡¯s been three years since I moved in with finality that night Avery hurt her foot. I haven¡¯t spent a night away since. ¡°Sutt still working on Scout?¡± I nce at the monitor on the table, Milo stretched across his toddler bed, a stuffed whale in his grips. ¡°Milo¡¯s still out.¡± She nods. ¡°He¡¯s a little colicky. I just nursed him.¡± My lips quirk. ¡° Sutton or Scout?¡± She swats at my arm yfully, a devious and adorable little lilt to her lips. ¡°Scout.¡± She rolls her lips together. ¡°Sutt likes his milk at night, you know that.¡± Sutton surprised us both one night when Avery was nursing Milo. We¡¯d just gotten into a good routine, Milo was probably only four months old at this point. We were all sleeping well because we¡¯d worked out a rotation for sleep, pumping and nursing, all of it. Things were all hands on deck, but working nicely. I was waiting for Avery to get done feeding the baby so I could change him, and take him to bed. When she was burping him, she said he still seemed hungry, so she switched sides, leaving her other breast exposed. A bead of milk clung to the tip of her nipple, and while I found it erotic, itpletely rewired Sutton¡¯s brain. He asked what it tasted like, and if he could taste it. I think Avery was so shocked to hear a request so kinkying from him that she didn¡¯t even reply right away. I took Milo to bed, and found them in bed shortly after, Sutton beneath the sheet, Avery¡¯s cheeks rosy. Positioned between her legs, he was making love to her while exploring her new body, drinking from each breast in between bursts of taking her mouth in a frantic kiss, and marking his way down her neck, and along her chest. I pulled the door closed, and went downstairs, and got to work on getting the bottles washed for the next day, and I wore a smile the whole time. Since Scout has been born, he¡¯s able to get his fix again, and this time around, it¡¯s spurred him on to trying more new things. Likest night. Avery was begging for pain¨Cthe pain thates with being stretched and supremely full. She loves being stretched and tested, and I love watching her discover new limits. Usually, when she wants this, Sutton holds her hand and eases her through the hard parts while I use myself and her favorite toy to give her what she needs. For whatever reason, Sutton asked if he could take the ce of the toy, and Avery¡¯s eyes filled with excitement. Watching him explore something new and discover he enjoys it has been just as good as watching her find pleasure in all of her desires. He held her hair in his fist, and moved only his hips as he guided himself in and out of her open mouth. At the other end, my hands sunk into her hips, I moved my gaze between her sparkling wedding bands on her finger, clutching the mattress, and the ce where our bodies met. In and out, I watched my cock disappear inside of her, into the ce where both Sutton and I have left many deposits, found love and warmth, to the ce that has healed us. The same ce where she gave us our sons. ??? ????? ???????s ??? ?????s??? ?? find?novel The only time we¡¯ve been able to share Avery at once, Sutton was drunk. I enjoyed it, but never pushed to experience it again, always getting the feeling that he wasn¡¯t quitefortable. This time, however, felt so different. ¡°You look so good like this, Avery,¡± he¡¯d said, his bicep flexing as he began guiding her head toward him, giving his thrusting a break. ¡°You look gorgeous with me in your mouth, with him inside you. This is how you¡¯re meant to look, used and full, isn¡¯t that right, baby? That¡¯s what you like, right?¡± He started a chain reaction. Avery, so taken aback and wildly turned on by Sutton¡¯s demeanor change, lost control, and orgasmed, her tight little pussy milking every drop from me, making mee, too. The grunts and gags sent Sutton over, and he gave her a mouthful, which she swallowed before falling onto her stomach, a sweaty, sated mess, with my cum sshed up her thighs. My groin tightens as the memory skates over my brain, and Avery sifts her fingers through my beard to get my attention. ¡°Hey, are you okay? What are you really thinking about?¡± I catch her hand and coat it in kisses. ¡°You. Us. I don¡¯t know. Just how great everything is. How lucky we are. All of it.¡± I drag her mouth to mine, and we share a long, slow kiss that leaves us both wanting more. Sutton emerges from the hall, hair mussed, sleep in his eyes. ¡°I got him down but I dozed for a few, too.¡± He scrubs a hand down his face, and finally really sees us. ¡°Am I interrupting?¡± We both shake our heads at nearly the same time. Sometimes Avery and Sutton are together without me, and I¡¯m okay with that. And as much as I feel like an equal where love is concerned, I don¡¯t take time with Avery unless Sutton verbalizes he¡¯s okay with it. It¡¯s a boundary for me, and one that Avery epts and does not push. It¡¯s rare for us to want one without the other, though, and I can tell by the way that Avery kissed me that she has ns for nap time that do not include napping. ¡°Remember the honeymoon?¡± she asks, eyebrows lifted, excitement glittering in her blue eyes. She even sits a bit taller at just the mention. Sutton smirks. ¡°Our honeymoon, hmm, when was that?¡± I scratch my head. ¡°I don¡¯t remember that.¡± She rolls her eyes and smacks me yfully in the chest, but splits her gaze between me and Sutt. ¡°I want to try something new.¡± She gets to her feet. ¡°Now?¡± Sutton asks, looking down at his low-slung sleep pants and worn UCLA t-shirt covered in spit up. He gets his answer when she drags us both by the hand upstairs.
Avery trembles against me, a sheen of sweat on her back, slick against my chest. She rocks against me, then into him, her moans of pleasure filling in our room. Electricity vibrates in all the dark corners of my brain, bringing everything to life, vibrant and bold. Her head falls back against my shoulder, revealing the slick, sweaty column of her throat. I sink my teeth into her skin, biting gently as she leans into me, sinking me deeper inside of her. She¡¯s so tight, so fucking impossibly tight that I don¡¯t know how much more pleasure I can give her without losing control. The moment passes, and she leaves me, rocking forward to tip against Sutton, her hands sliding up the back of his neck as she moans his name. She wanted us both, at the same time, in the most intimate way possible. Because we¡¯re both adverse to being inside of her in the same ce at the same time, we found a solution for everyone. Sutton kept his pants on, tugging them down to reveal the parts that matter¨Chis words. His back against the headboard, I sit opposite him, my legs draped over his. Another reason for the pants¨Cno skin to skin contact between us¨Censuring every sensation and moment is about Avery, and no weird moments take away from that. She writhes in hisp, up and down, finding pleasure as she rides him before abruptly falling back against me, seeking more of me. Sutton leans forward, capturing her breast with his mouth. She bounces gently on both of us as he licks, sucks and swallows, his lips shiny from her milk. I feed my hand up the back of her head, letting the base of her skull rest against the heel of my palm. I give her a gentle tug back, and twist her head so I can steal a kiss. ¡°God,¡± she whines, emotion rattling her tone. ¡°Everything¨Coh god, it¡¯s everything, I feel everything.¡± A few more hupped breaths and shuddered moans, and she leans into him again, telling us both that she¡¯s going toe. ¡°Don¡¯t stop, please, please, oh Sutt, oh my god.¡± She leans back toward me as Sutton groans, his thrustinging to an abrupt halt. ¡°Oh, G, please, please,¡± she begs me. The feel of her ass always does me in, but with him inside of her pussy, her ass is strangling my cock in the best ways. ¡°Please, G, oh please,¡± she begs, and I crash my forehead to her head, and wrap my arm around her chest. My orgasm crests and crashes, and I fill her in throbbing, frantic pulses. There¡¯s so much cum that it drips down my shaft, down my balls, dripping onto the bed below. When she¡¯s as full of my cum as she can be, I take a break, holding her hair in one hand while I fan the back of her neck with the other. All the while, my cock still softly pulses inside of her. Sutton slips out, tucked away before he¡¯s off the bed. He brings her a warm towel, but she pushes it away. I cover my groin with the towel and excuse myself to get dressed, and when Ie back, Avery is sitting up on her elbows, hair a mussed sexy mess, breasts dripping. She lets her knees fall apart, and exposes her used, pink parts¡ªher pussy, dripping cream, and her ass, the very same. She drags her fingers through the mess and threatens to bring it to her lips, but Sutton snags her wrist with a whine. ¡°Avery,¡± heins. She swipes her fingers against the towel, giggling as she sinks her lips to his. He¡¯s changing, but Rome wasn¡¯t built in a day, and if she wants Rome, she¡¯ll have to be patient. But the truth is, whatever version of myself that I am, or whatever version of himself he is, we¡¯ll both always find love and understanding with her. Sutton tugs a shirt down over her head, and feeds her legs through a pair of pajama pants. He passes me a hair tie, and I use what I¡¯ve learned and braid her hair, looping the stic around the end. Seamless, that¡¯s how we take care of one another and our babies. That¡¯s how we run Mercer and rte to the world around us. Everyone in our lives hase to know and respect the unlikely dynamic we built between us. I have the utmost respect for those that respect what we have without asking vulgar or prying questions. Sutton looks at his watch. ¡°Perfect timing.¡± Avery looks between us, confused. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Ford is here to watch the monitors. We¡¯re going out for a nice dinner,¡± I tell her, helping her off the bed and toward the shower. She stops in her tracks, eyes wide. ¡°Just Ford?¡± Sutton snorts. ¡°No, Kat and Juliette are with him.¡± Avery sighs with relief. ¡°I trust Ford but, you know.¡± Sutton and I help her into the bathroom, and I start the shower while he readies her things on the bed. ¡°Twenty minutes,¡± she says, ¡°and I¡¯ll be ready for this mystery date.¡± Two kids over three years have left us with very few dates that don¡¯t take ce inside of this house. But with a month of orchestration of six schedules, we¡¯re finally able to have a dinner out. The first of many. Before she¡¯s pregnant again. Sutton catches me in the hall, before we head down to see Cade and the others, who have let themselves in already. ¡°Hey, I just want to say thank you. For that night.¡± My brows must furrow, or I must look puzzled, because he chuckles. ¡°It¡¯s been so long. I should¡¯ve said thank you years ago. But¡­ the wedding night. Offering yourself as a solution. It¡¯s crazy. It¡¯s all been¡­ crazy. But it changed my life. So¡­ you were right. And¡­ thank you.¡± I yfully blow on my fingernails and polish them against my chest. ¡°What can I say, Father knows best.¡± I don¡¯t have to look to know that he rolls his eyes. Once we reach the bottom of the stairs, I take my turn catching him off guard, and pull him into a hug. ¡°You weren¡¯t the only one needing saving.¡± The End. The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!