The Father

Chapter 10

I stand outside of her door with my fists balled at my sides. They're sweaty, it's a hot one today, but that isn't the reason. My nervousness is the cause. From the other side I hear music, The Wall, playing rather loudly, and our shared love for the band makes me fall for her even more in this moment. It's such a simple thing, but it holds so much power over me.

I've prepared for my visit in every way except telling her that I was coming by.

I called Maxwell last night to see when he was working. I waited in my car until I saw another tenant pull in, then followed them inside so I wouldn't have to buzz her apartment.

And now here I am. I'm like a teenager. I feel like I did ages ago, at seventeen, going to ask out a girl I really liked, elated for her to have accepted my offer to take her to a movie. She turned out to be the first girl I would love and agonize over losing years later. It was horribly toxic, lots of fighting and yelling and turmoil. I suddenly realize I lied to Katherine. I have been jealous before, but only with that one, and I think I must be getting old to have forgotten that. It's a memorable feeling, the hot aching in your stomach, the sickness, the anger.

I curse my mind for going off course. I've got to focus. I promised myself I wouldn't cave, not after what she told me, but three days without a call or a text from her have brought me here.

On the way over I finally admitted to myself that I don't care if she loves Maxwell. I have to have her either way. She can do whatever she'd like, but I need her. Even if she only wants to give me her body and nothing else, I'll have to accept that.

I knock once, knowing it isn't loud enough to hear, but don't want to do it any harder. It's as if by my doing it lightly, with a soft touch, I'm not as desperate. But I am desperate, I remind myself. Desperate for her, her body, and her touch.

So I do it again, hard and rough, and take a deep breath once I've stopped. Now the music goes low enough so that I can barely hear it. I take a step back and a shaky breath leaves my lips as I hear the lock turn. When it has opened she leans against the frame, smirks, and looks me up and down.

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

She's dressed casual, ripped jeans and a black t shirt, hair pulled up into a messy bun, but I've never seen someone look so beautiful. Forget her remark about me caving, I couldn't care less, fuck it, fuck it all.

"Please," I whisper, then take a step toward her.

I'm shaking and don't give her the chance to answer, I can't stop myself. I step right against her body, press my mouth against hers, and slide both my hands across her head. I want to consume her, every fiber of her being, and try my best with my tongue and mouth. And she likes it, responding by shoving her tongue right back into my mouth, and twisting her fingers in my hair.

But she shocks me when she pulls her body away and stumbles backwards. She's got that smirk on her face as she wipes a hand at her lips. For some reason that angers me more than what she said to me before I attacked her. My adrenaline and arousal is out of control.

I slam the door and flip the lock, then barrel down the entryway toward her. She likes this, likes me angry and out of control, and I couldn't stop it even if I tried. I'm in another world as she backs away from me until she's all the way in the living room.

Young Lust is playing over the speakers and I think to myself how appropriate that is.

I overtake her small body and kiss her like before, fervently and deeply, and force her onto the couch. I don't bother with her shirt, instead focusing on getting her jeans off, and she takes care of the shirt for me. When I see that she has no bra on I immediately grab one of her tits and bite into the soft skin and suck. She smells of her usual perfume, that intoxicating scent.