all hers | tara carpenter x fem!reader

part 20

Several orgasms later - when you're a sweaty, ruined mess underneath Tara's body, you hear the murmur of voices and the front door slam closed.

Sam's finally had enough, you think, a little sleepily. Her indignant request for the two of you to keep quiet had only made Tara fuck you harder. She's annoying like that. And what had been Sam's loss had been your gain.

Or so you had thought.

There's a rumble against the floorboards downstairs. Boots, the owner heavy-footed. Sam's voice - distant, a little apprehensive. And then you hear your Dad.

Deep, like thunder.

He sounds pissed.

"Tara, get off me," You murmur, suddenly. She's pressing you down into the mattress, lips on your neck, fingers wandering somewhere you definitely don't need right now.

You sit up slightly, pulling her up with you.

"But I'm not done with you yet." She says, eyes dancing as she pulls away from your neck.

She pushes you back into the bed, hard, taking your hands and pinning them over your head. You resist. Your Dad's steps hit like lightning against the staircase.

"Babe," You insist, "I'm serious, my Dad is home."

She quells your fears with a kiss. Nips at your bottom lip.

"He'll knock, babe, relax." She assures.

She tilts your head to her lips, but you withdraw.

Panic surges through you.

You hear your Dad's footsteps on the staircase. You wrench your hands out of her grip and reach for your t-shirt.

Your Dad doesn't knock. You've known it for eighteen years and he certainly is going to stop it now. You pry your t-shirt over your head.

"Clothes, Tara. Now." You hiss.

She rolls her eyes, but reaches for her own shirt.

But it's too late. You hear the door click as the handle turns and then the bedroom door bursts wide open.

Your Dad stands, eyes wild, frightening as he looks over at you.

Tara gasps, and tugs the sheets over her body.

"Ever heard of knocking, dude?" She asks, cheeks red, in a rare moment of embarrassment.

Your Dad blinks.

The anger dissipates; he's startled, like you in bed with Tara was the last thing he expected.

"What the hell is going on here?" He hisses, eyes wide with indignation. He flits between you trying to tug your shirt over your head and Tara pulling the sheets up to her neck. He looks outraged.

"Are you having sex?" He splutters. His eyes might bulge out of his head.

"No, we're playing twister," Tara says, voice dry,  "Of course we're having sex, what does it look like?"

She, as always, knows how to twist the knife.

You'd tell her to shut up, but your words - along with a piece of your soul - have died. Shock, embarrassment flood through you.

Rage explodes across your Dad's face.

His chest heaves. He looks as though he might tackle her. You grip her hand, looking between them.

"Just give us one sec, Dad, we'll be dressed in a minute."

He takes a breath. Swallows hard.

Silence fills the room for a single, brutal second.