The Naughty

Naughty

"Watch your mouth," I snarled. "Or I really will pick that belt back up."

"Good," she pouted. "And after that you can fuck me. I know you'll fuck me hard, Daddy. I think about it every night."

"Stop," I said. "Just stop."

"Why?!"

I groaned in frustration, balls aching like a bastard. "This is so fucking wrong."

"Ilikewrong," she said. "And so do you. I know it."

"Show's over," I snapped. "I mean it."

Her eyes turned dark, hurt and angry. "Are you fucking serious, Kyle? For fucking real?"

"Deadly," I said. "Please, Aimee, do as you're told for once."

Her mouth slammed shut, a tight little line of rage. She pulled up her panties, smoothing down her nightdress. "Asshole!" she yelled. "I thought you wanted me!"

I sighed. "That isn't it, sweetheart."

"Fine, whatever," she snapped. "I'll go get fucked by someone else, someone whodoeswant me."

"Jesus, that isn't it."

"Six fucking months!" she screeched. "I've thought about this the whole time!"

My temples were pounding, senses in overload. "It's notmeyou want, baby face. You only want what you can't have. That's the thing with being spoiled. You want the toy just out of reach."

"Fuck you, you patronising prick."

I stalked over in a heartbeat, pressing my face into hers. "Don't you dare use that tone with me. I could beat you again all day long, a hard-on isn't compulsory. It's not all about sex, you know."

"You're kidding yourself," she said. "I felt how hard you were."

"I'm sick of your spoiled little tantrums, Aimee, sick to fucking death."

"This isn't a tantrum!" she raged. "I really want this!"

"Sure," I smiled. "Wanted this enough to make my life hell for six months. You can kid yourself, sweetheart, but don't kid me. You hated my guts on sight when I first turned up here."

"You don't know me at all," she said. This time her eyes took me aback, they were pooling, heavy with hurt.

I mustered all the resolve I could manage, holding myself firm until she accepted defeat. She grabbed her phone and stormed away, a hurricane of slamming doors and thumping footfalls.

It was a long time before I moved from that kitchen, staying out of her way until I heard her leave the house. I called her name once, twice, three times to be sure, and then, finally, when I was certain she gone, I made my way up to her bedroom.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Aimee's diary was easy to find. Too easy. It ate further at my unease. It was thinly disguised under a stack of paperbacks, its pink satin cover jutting out underneath like a deadly beacon. Maybe she'd wanted me to find it the whole time, onlyI'mnot a sneaky fucking snitch.

I sat down on her bed, flicking through the pages. Yesterday's entry was bookmarked, as good a place to start as any.

I'm drunk again.Really drunk. Beth and Stacy got in my face tonight, called me a skanky little slut. Beth said I'd been giving Richard the eye. Like fuck I had. He's the prick who's been trying it on with me ever since her birthday last September. I can't stand him, anyway, his breath smells of eggs and by all accounts he has erection problems, Beth told me so.

Kyle was kind to me this evening, it even looked like he gave a shit. I tried to tell him who I am, what I want. Yeah, I know... fucking face palm city. He touched my knee, and it felt so fucking good. He sent me to bed, and like an idiot I wondered if he'd come after me. He didn't. I followed him into his bedroom, yeah, yeah, what's new? Only this time I went further. I watched him shower, and fuck, his ASS. It's like steel...

A waveof nausea rose up from my gut. I scanned on, hardly able to read the words.

I watchedhim jerk himself off. It was so hot. Part of me can't help but wonder. You know. Maybe, just maybe he was thinking about me...

I flicked backthrough the journal; pages and pages and pages of secrets that a man like me should never have access to. Through the nausea my dick was already hard, images of Aimee Rowley's perfect little pussy spread open for me scorching my resolve, burning it to ashes. I found the entry six months earlier. The day I arrived in her life.

Mother has a husband.A fucking husband!! Out of nowhere, I mean what the fuck?! She dropped me a text message, a TEXT, to let me know I have a new stepdaddy. Fucking awesome. I wanted a stepdad my whole fucking life, and now I'm twenty she decides to marry some random? She's such a BITCH. They are arriving home today, YES, to MY home, BOTH of them. Hey, Aimee, here's your new dad. Like that's NORMAL. Apparently his name is Kyle, and he's some hotshot IT executive or some shit. I'm never going to be ok with this, EVER.

My blood turned to ice.Text message? Louise told her daughter about me by text message? I thought back to our wedding-day, our early morning conversation.

"Are you sure you want to do this now? What about your daughter? Wouldn't she want to be here?"

Louise smiled, brushed it aside, as though it was the most ludicrous suggestion she'd ever heard. "Aimee? No! She's a big girl, Kyle, she doesn't need to be here. Believe me, Aimee won't even care. She's not that kind of girl."