CALLMEDADDY

JADEWEST

Themoralrightsoftheauthorhavebeenasserted.

Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproduced,distributed,ortransmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,including

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tothepublisher,addressed“Attention:PermissionsCoordinator,”attheemailaddressbelow.

EditedbyJohnHudspith–www.johnhudspith.co.uk

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Allenquiriestojadewestauthor@gmail.com

Firstpublished2017

DISCLAIMER

Judgebythetitle.

Ifyouthinkthisbookmightnotbeforyou,thenyou’reprobablyright.

Ifyou’realreadywetattheprospect,thenIhopeyouenjoytheride.

Love,Jade<3

DEDICATION

Thisbookisdedicatedtoguiltypleasures,pinkglitteranddaddyissues.

CHAPTERONE

AINE

Mystupidpumpsaren’tcutoutforthisweather.Coldwatersquelchesbetweenmytoes,andmy

breathismisty,wethairlikefrozenstrawagainstmycheeks.Icanhardlyseethroughtherain.

DamnmybirthdayforbeingsolateinNovember.
Damnmefornotthinkingharderaboutmywardrobechoices.
Iwasn’tplanningonbeingoutthislate,eighteenthbirthdayornot.I’mdressedforaquickcoffeeona

cloudyafternoon,notforclubbingthroughastormyevening–leggingsandastrappycamiunderafluffy
tealcardiganthatholdsmorerainthanitkeepsout.ThisstupidscenarioisallKellyAnne’sfault,insisting
itwouldn’tbeaproperbirthdaycelebrationunlessitinvolvedgettingtrashedinsomesleazyclubinthe
backstreetsofBrighton.We’llhaveagreattime,shesaid,justabusrideandacoupleofdrinks,she
said.Whoknows,youmayevenmeetsomeonehotandfinallyditchtheVcard,shesaid.

Ihavenointentionoftradingmyvirginstatusforadrunkenfumbleinabackalleywithsomerandom

whobarelyknowsmyname.

Andnowshe’sbailedonme,typicalKellyAnnestyle.LastIsawofhershewaslip-lockedwith

somevest-top-cladhipsterwiththick-rimmedglasses.Thenshewasgone,offinapuffoftequila-scented
pheromonesforsomebumpandgrindathipster-guy’spad,nodoubt.Regular,exceptshestillhasmy
phone,purseandkeysinherhandbagforsafekeeping.

Myownstupidfaultforbelievingforonesinglesecondshe’dtakecareofthem.Nothingissafewith

KellyAnneafteracoupleoftequilas,despitewhatshe’llhaveyoubelieve.

Irootthroughmysoppingpockets,nothingtherebutacoupleofsoggycigarettepapers.
Idiot,I’msuchanidiot.
IhavenorealplanforgettinghometoNewhaven.It’sthebestpartofaten-milehike,andtheoddsof

makingitbackwithouteithersuccumbingtohypothermiaorstumblingintotheseaareslimtonil.I’msure
IshouldbemorefreakedoutthanIam,butIfeelstrangelynonchalant.Actually,it’smorenumbthan
nonchalant.MaybeI’vehadafewtoomanytequilasmyself,ormaybeit’sthesorryknowledgethatIhave
nobodywhocaresenoughtorealiseI’mstrandedallalonewithoutapennyinmypocket.

ThefactthatKellyAnneismybestfriendandtheonlyrealpersonwhogaveashitaboutmybirthday

saysitall.EvenifIdomakeithometonight,there’llbenobodythere.Mum’sawayagain,offinFrance
withherlatestconquest.Denny,he’scalled.Heworksoverthere,doinguppropertiesforrichfolk,giving
Mumtheillusionthatshe’soneofthem,andthat’sallshe’severwanted.Thatandamanwho’llstickwith
herlongerthanittakestoshoothisload.SofarsogoodwithDenny,sixmonthsandgoingstrong.Atleast
sherememberedmybirthdayenoughtosendatextthisyear.

IthinkI’mheadingfortheseafront,IhopeI’mheadingfortheseafront.Theyhavebarstherethatstay

openallnight,maybeIcanfindsomewheretohangoutuntilmorning,somewherevaguelywarmtopass
thetimeuntilIfiguresomethingout–exceptIdon’thavemyID,that’sinKellyAnne’shandbag,too.Even
ifIhadanymoneyforadrink,nobodyeverletsmebuyonewithoutID.Istillgethalf-fareonpublic
transport,that’showyoungIlook.KellyAnnesaysit’sbecauseI’msoblonde.Youlooklikeoneofthose
creepyporcelaindolls,shesays,butprettier.Iguessthat’ssupposedtobeacompliment.

MaybeIshouldtrytofindapolicestation,explainmysorrysituationandhopethey’llletmestayuntil

morning.MaybeIcouldfacetheten-milehikehomewhenthesuncomesup,ifiteverstopsraining.
MaybeIcouldfindawaytobreakinathome,orIcouldheadovertoKellyAnne’sandwaitforherto
resurface,giveherapieceofmymindforleavingmeupshitcreekonmyownbirthdaywithoutsomuch
asloosechangetomyname.Maybeherparentswillbehome,maybethey’llletmedryoffandwaititout
inherbedroom.

Mynumbfeetsplashthroughapuddleanditturnsouttheyaren’tasnumbasIthought.Myteethare

chattering,armsfoldedtight,mywetcardigansocoldagainstmyskinthatitfeelslikeanicebath.
Everythingseemsdarkerhere.Ican’thearanydistantbassfromnearbyclubs,justtheoccasionaldroneof
acarandthedrummingoftherain.Thestreetsarenarrow,aratrunofbackalleys,wheeledbinspiled
highwithcrap.Itsmellsrancid,andeventhoughthedimlightingandtherainmakeitdamnednear
impossibletogetmybearings,I’msurethisisn’tthewaytotheseafront.Ihaven’tgotacluewhereIam
orwherethehellI’mgoing.

Shit,shitandmoreshit.
ForthefirsttimethroughthissorrymessIfeelfearcreepingupmyspine.I’moutofmydepth,andthe

tequilaiswearingofffast.Waytoofast.

Mynervesarechatteringworsethanmyteeth.Iwouldkillforacigarette,justtotaketheedgeoff,and

asIturnthecornerImaybeinluck.Asolitaryfigureisproppedinashadowydoorway.He’swearinga
hoodie,soIcanhardlyseehisface,notthatI’mlooking.I’mfartoofocusedontheglowofthecigarette
betweenhisfingers.

“Hey,”Isay,smoothingbackthewethairfrommyface.“Couldyousparemeasmoke?”
Hestaresatme,Icanfeelit,butIcan’tseehiseyesintheshadows.He’sbig,muchbiggerthanme.

Hesmellsofweedandstalebodyspraymixedwithsweat,butrightnownoneofthatmatters.

Ilaunchintoamonologue,tellinghimmyname’sLaine,andhowIwasoutwithastupidfriendwho

tookmyphoneandkeyswithherwhensheleft.Itellhimit’smybirthday,thatI’mhavingthecrappiest
nightofmylifeandhe’dmakeitjustalittlebitbetterifhe’dpleasegivemeacigarette.Irealisehow
stupidIsound,howweakmyvoiceis.HowweakIfeel.

HowaloneIfeel.
ButI’vefeltaloneforlongerthanIcanremember,thisshit’snothingnew.
Hehandsmethecigarettefromhisfingers,andeventhoughitmakesmefeelabiticky,Itakeitfrom

him.

“Thanks.”
“Pastyourbedtimefromthelookofyou,”hegrunts.Hisvoiceisthickandraspy,anditmakesmefeel

uneasy.

Ipressmyselfagainstthewall,tryingtohidefromthedownpourandprotectthecigarette.
“Everyonesaysthat.”Itakealongdrag.“I’meighteen.Perfectlylegal,atleastfromtoday.Yesterday.

It’snotevenmybirthdayanymore.Talkaboutcelebratinginstyle,thingscanonlygetbetter,right?”

Mystupidgiggleandattemptathumourseemtogorightoverhishead.Hegruntsagain.Perfectly

legal.Iregretmychoiceofwords.

Ikeeppuffingaway,lookingatthefloor,concentratingonnothingbutthewelcomerushofnicotine.
“Allalone,then?”Icanhearthesneerinhistone.Hehasanaccent,ahintofcockney.It’sgruffand

deepandlacedwiththeunderbellyofthisplace.

Irealisethefinehairsonthebackofmyneckarestandingupandit’snotfromthecold.IrealiseI’m

inadarkstreetwithnobodyaroundbesidesamanwhomakesmefeellikeamouseinatrap.

Iforceasmile,gestureaimlesslyattheroadahead.“Myfriendwillbealongformesoon,”Ilie.

“She’scomingback,suchaditz.”

Helaughs.“Youjustsaidshe’dbailed.Makeyourmindup.”
“Figureofspeech,”Ilieagain.“She’llbeback…anytimenow…”
“Sureshewill.”HetakesasteptowardsmeandItakeashuffleback.“Youcandropthelostlittlegirl

shit.”

“Sorry?”Ikeepmysmilebright,eventhoughmyheartisthumpinglikeabastard.
“Howmuchfortheworks?”Ifeelhiseyesonme,alloverme.Hetakesanotherstepmyway.“How

muchforagoonthatcutelittleass?Don’tbeshynow.”

“ButI’mnot…”Idropthecigarette.“I’mnota…”Myeyesarewide,butIstillcan’tseehis.“My

friend’scomingrightnow…she’sonherway…”

Henudgesthedoorbehindhim,andthestenchofweedhitsme.“Comeup,getwarm.I’vegotweed,

orstrongershit,whateveryouwant.You’dlikethat,right?Ibetyouain’tsofuckinginnocentasyou
look.”Icanhearhissmirkinhisvoice.

Ishakemyhead.“She’llbeheresoon,andI’mreallynot…Ishouldn’tbehere…”
“Ibetyoumakeafuckingfortunewiththatnicelittlegirlshit.”
“I’mnotplaying…”Imoveawayfromhim,butbackintooneofthewheeledbins.Cardboardboxes

falltothefloorandmakemejump.

Helaughslouder.“Comeon,babygirl,don’tbesuchafuckingtease.”Hisvoiceisleery,drunk.“Bet

yousoundrealfuckingnicewhenyou’vegotanicehardcockinyoursnatch.”

Mybackispressedtightagainstthebin,andhe’sclose,tooclose.Hisbreathisinmyface.Itstinks.

Hestinks.Hesmellsmustyandrank,likeoneofmum’soldboyfriends…thewindowcleanerwiththe
blacktooth…theonewhoslippedhishandbetweenmylegswhenwewerewatchingDisneyandnever
cameoveragain…

“Youwantthis…Iwantthis…”Hishorriblelaughisrightinmyear.Ifeelhislipsonme.“You’ve

gotmeallworkedup,babygirl…youowemeforthesmoke…youowemenow…whatyougonnado
aboutit?”

Ilookaround,tryingtocatchsightofanexit,butthereisn’tone.He’stooclose,toobig,andevenifI

madeabreakforit,wherewouldIgo?

“Don’t…”Isay.“Please…”
“Gonnawarmyourightup,makeitfeelrealnice,ifyou’reagoodgirl.”
Mychestfeelstight,coldairhissinginmythroatasIstruggletogulpitin.Myheartisracing,butI

feeldisconnected,asthoughI’mnothere,asthoughthisishappeningtosomeoneelse.Ifeelhisbreathon
myneck,thewarmthofhisfingersastheyslipinsidemycardigan.IfeellikeIshouldbefighting,kicking
andscreamingandclawingathisface,butI’msonumb.Soscared.

Histhumbbrushesmynippleanditshockslikeelectric.
“Knewyoufuckingwantedit,”hegrunts.
Astrangesenseofdetachmentwashesoverme,asenseofbeingsuckedintoapit,wherethereis

nothing,whereeverythingiseasy,whereIcanhideinthequietplaceinmymindandpretendthisisnot
me.It’shistongueagainstmyearthatsnapsmebacktomyself.Itfeelswetandhot.

“No,”Isay,andmyvoicesoundsstrongerthistime.I’mwriggling,tryingtobringmylegsup,

squirmingawayfromhismouth.

“Chillthefuckout,”hehisses,andmyheartpoundsinmyears.
Therumbleofcarsatthetopofthestreetspursmeon,andIlashout,catchhimhardacrosstheface.

Heswearsandstumbles,touchinghischeekforjustlongenoughformetokickoutandmakearunforit.

“HEY!”hecalls.“GETTHEFUCKBACKHERE!”
Ihearhisfootstepsinthepuddlesbehindme,theairinmylungsburningasmynumbfeetpoundthe

street.IcanfeelhimbehindmebutIdaren’tlookback,justkeepfocusedonthelightatthetopofthe
street,atthesoundofacarheadingcloser.Iseetheheadlights,blurrythroughtherain,andthedanger
behindmedrivesmestraightintotheroad.I’mwaving,jumping,throwingmyarmsabovemyheadasI
hearthescreechoftyres.Iclosemyeyes,arabbitcaughtintheheadlights.

Ihearacardoorslamming.
Ijumpamileasahandgripsmyelbow.

ICK

GIRL

JOLTS

tolifeasIgripherarm,bigblueeyesstaringupatmine,lashesdripping.Hermouthis

open,justalittle.Herbreathismisty.

She’syoung.
She’spretty.
Andshe’sscared.Reallyfuckingscared.
Footstepspoundthegroundtomyright,andIseehim,thepieceofshitwaster.
Thegirlflinches,tugsaway,butIkeepagripofher,placemyselfbetweenherfragilelittlebodyand

thedickheadchasingher.

He’swasted.Buzzingwithsomeshit.Speedprobably.
“Beatit,”Isay.“Fuckoffbacktowhereyoucamefrom.”
Heshrugs.“JusthangingwithlittleLaine,bro.Ain’tnoproblemhere.C’mon,littlegirl.”
Hellwillfreezeoverbeforeshegoesanywherewiththispieceofshit.
Ismileattheloser.“I’mnotyourbro.Doyourselfafavourandrunthefuckalongbeforethereisa

fuckingproblemhere.”

Helooksmeupanddown,andeventhroughtherainheclocksthecutofmysuit.Hiseyesflicktothe

Mercedes,tothekeysstillclearlyintheignition.

“Iwouldn’ttryit,”Isay.Itakeasteptowardshim,shouldersbackandeasy.IcouldtakehimandI

knowit.He’sjustanotherloser,anotherdregfromthecesspitoflife,andI’veseenplentyofthoseinmy
lifetime.

Iglareathim,andbeckonhimforward,perfectlywillingtoputthispieceofshitonthegroundwhere

hedeserves,buthe’sbackingawaybeforeIutteranotherword,druggiefeettrippingovereachother.

“Didn’tmeannothingbyit.Don’tevenknowher…nevermether…”
Idon’tbotherwatchinghimretreat.I’venoneed.Dickheadslikehimdon’tbothermenlikeme.
Ipullthegirlcloser,andsheseemstosnapbacktoherself.Hercardiganissodden,hangingfromher

shoulders,andshe’sshivering.

“Laine?”Iask.“I’mNick.NickLynch.You’resafenow.Wheredoyouneedtogo?”
“Newhaven…”shesays,andhervoiceisasprettyassheis.“Myfriend…shepulledsomeguy…she

hasmykeys,mymoney…”

“Andwhereisyourfriendnow?”
Sheshakesherhead.“Idon’tknow…”
“I’lltakeyouhome,”Isay,andmywordsaresimple,obvious.I’msurprisedwhenshefollowsmeto

thepassengerdooroftheMercandslipsintotheseatwithouthesitation,butsheseemsdazedsomehow.

Naïve,maybe.Maybethat’swhatgotherintothismessinthefirstplace.Isuspectasmuch.

Young,naïveandvulnerable.
Nowayshouldshebeoutalonethislateatnight.Nowayshouldshebehere,inthisshitholepartof

Brighton.Ifeeltheanger,atsomeunknownparentswhoshouldbeworriedsick,parentswhoshouldhave
taughthermorefuckingsense.

Afatherwhoshouldbedrivingaroundlookingforhisdaughter,whoshouldbeprotectingherfrom

piecesofshitlikethatfuckingwasterbackthere.

Iignorethetwitchinmyjaw.Pushasidethatfeeling.
Sheneedsaridehome.Justaridehome.
She’snotmyproblem,andshedoesn’twanttobe.
Iclosethedoorafterherandshebucklesupoblivious.She’snaïve.Definitelynaïve.
Buttonightshe’ssafe.Withme.
I’llkeephersafeuntilIgetherhome.
She’sstaringrightatmeasItakethedriver’sside,stillshivering,butshedoesn’tlooksoscarednow.
Iwaituntilthemistclearsfromthewindscreen.Thewipersgivearhythmicthumpfromtheotherside

oftheglass.

“Ican’tgetinathome,”shesaysquietly.“Notwithoutmykey…”
“Whataboutyourparents?”
Shelooksatthefloor.“Mymum’saway.”
“Andyourdad?”
“Idon’thaveone.”
“Yourmumleftyouallalone?”
Shenods.“Shenormallydoes.”
Mygutpangs.Nodad.
Ikeepmyvoicesteady.Warmandcalm.“Icangiveyoucashforahotel.Takeyouwhereveryouneed

togo.Maybearelative?Anauntoruncle?Neighbour?”

She’sshakingherhead.“Idon’thave…anyone…”
Ifeeltheacheinmygut,strongernow.Meneither.
“Youcouldcallyourphone,maybeshe’llanswer?”
Shelookssoembarrassed,shakingherhead.“Iturneditoff…tosavebattery…ithardlyhadany

battery…”

“Doyouknowyourfriend’snumber?”
Anothershakeofthehead.
“HowaboutFacebook?Socialmedia?”
Hervoiceissoquiet.“KellyAnneisum…shewon’t…she’swithaguy,drunk…”Shesighs.“She

won’tevengivemeasecondthought…nottonight…”

Isn’tthatjustthetruthofit.
Iputthecarintogear.“Thenyou’dbetterstaywithmeuntilmorning.”
Shedoesn’tevenattempttoargueasIpullaway.

AINE

DON

’

KNOW

wherewe’regoing.Idon’tknowwhyI’mnotscared.Mybreathissteadynow,andtheair

inthecariswarmenoughthatmywetclothesdon’tfeelsobad.Mynervesarestillonedge,Icanfeel
thembeneaththerelief.ThereliefthatIgotaway.

IstareatNick,tryingtofigureouttheguywhograbbedmeintherainandsavedme.Hesavedme.
HowcouldIeverbescaredofamanwhosavedme?
Heseemsstrong,Nick.Heseemslikethekindofmanwhocouldchasemonstersaway.Hisjawis

hard,andhisnoselookslikeaRomancarving,andhishairislongenoughtocurlasitdries.Hehas
heavybrows,seriouseyes.Heseemsserious.

IfeelsaferthanI’vefeltinalong,longtime.MaybeI’mstilldrunkontequilaafterall.
Ifeelsosmallandhefeelssobig.
“Don’tyouwanttoknowwherewe’regoing?”heasks.Hisvoiceisnice.Deep.Strong,liketherest

ofhim.

“Notreally,”Isay.“Isitfar?”
“No.”
Ishrug.“Idon’treallyknowmywayaround.Iwouldn’tknowwherewewereifyoutoldme,soit

doesn’tmatter,doesit?”

“Iguessnot,Laine,no.”
Ican’tstopstaringathim.
“Yourfrienddoesn’tsoundlikemuchofafriend.”
“She’sacrappyfriendwhenshe’sdrunk.”
“Thatmakesheracrappyfriend,fullstop.”Heglancesinmydirection.“Afriendlikethatisn’tworth

having,Laine.”

Andhe’sright.Iknowhe’sright.Butshe’stheonlyoneIhave.Idon’twanttotellhimthat,butIthink

heprobablyknows.Helookslikehe’dknowalotofthings.He’saproperman.Aseriousman.Aman
whoknowshiswayaroundtheworld.

“It’smybirthday,”Isay.“Myeighteenth.Yesterday.Ididn’tevenwanttogoout.”
“Eighteenth?”There’ssurpriseinhisvoice.Ihearthatsurprisefrompeopleallthetime.
“Yeah,myeighteenth.”
“I’msureyou’vehadmuchbetterbirthdaypartiesthanthisone.”
ButIhaven’t.They’renormallyshit.Idon’twanttotellhimthateither.
HeturnsintoapetrolstationandasksifIwantanything.Idon’t.
Hetellsmetowaitrightthere.Ido.
Ilosesightofhiminside,andthenervesflutterinmybelly.Ifeellikeakidagain,astupidkid.Maybe

it’sbecauseI’mactinglikeone,buckledintightinsomestranger’scar,trustingeverythingwillbealright
becausehesawoffsomeguywhowasabouttostealmyVcardinexchangeforacrappyhalf-smoked
cigarette.

That’swhatstupidkidsdo,right?
Stupidkidsdostupidthings.
Iseehimpaythecashier,Iseehimsmileather.Hehasanicesmile,thekindofsmilethatmakesme

feellikeasillygirlwithacrush.I’msureI’dbecrushingonaguylikeNickifIwasn’tinsucha
ridiculouslycrapsituationrightnow.Thecashier’ssmilingrightback,andIimaginehegetsthatalot.
Youwouldifyouwereaguywholookedlikehim.

Ipretendtobefiddlingwithmycardiganashecomesbacktothecar.Heputssomebagsintheback

andslipsbackinwithoutaword.Idon’ttrytomakeconversation.Idon’ttrytojustifymystupidbirthday
decision-makingprocesses.

WeheadoutofBrighton.Theroadsturntostreets,andstreetsturntolanes,andwe’reatbigwooden

gatesatthefootofanincline.Theyopenasthecarpullsuptothem,sliderighttothesidetoletuspass.
Neat.Thedrivewayisgravelledandopensupintoaparkingarea,oneofthoseniceoneswherethe

gravelcrunchesunderyourfeet.Ibetit’sthatfancypinkstuffinthelight.

Hishouseisbig.Reallybig.
NicholasLynchmustberich.Imeanit’sobvioushe’srich.Thecar.ButIwasn’tthinkingstraight.I

wasn’tthinkingstraightenoughtothinkaboutit.

Heturnsofftheignitionandgetsout.Opensmydoorforme.
“Homesweethome,”hesays.“I’lltakeyoutoNewhaveninthemorning,we’llsortthingsout,Laine,

don’tworry.”

Inod,andclimbout.Thegravelisthecrunchytype,justlikeIthought.Hegrabsthebagsfromthe

back,andIlookatthehouse.It’sabarnconversion.Bigwindowslinethelowerfloor.Helocksthecar
andleadsmetothefrontentrance.It’sbigandheavywithawroughtironknocker.Itcreaksasheswings
itopen.IalwayswantedoneofthosewhenIwaslittle–abigdoorknockerthatwouldmakeabig
thumpingsound.

I’dhavelovedahouselikethis.
Aproperhomeforaproperfamily.
Iwonderifhehasafamily.
HegesturesmeinsideandIfeelawkward,mytoesstillsquelchyfromtherain.Mypumpsaresoaked.

Iditchthemandgobarefoot,andhedoesn’tseemtocarethatmyhairisdrippingdownmybackandonto
hisposhwoodenfloor.Heleadsthewaythroughtoakitchen.It’shugeandbeamedandhasoneofthose
fancyrangecookers,agraniteisland,too.

“Whatwouldyouliketodrink,Laine?”
“Justwater,please.”Myvoicesoundsweak.
Hetakesabottlefromthefridge,poursitintoaglass.Thenicemineralstuff.Hisfingerstouchmine

ashehandsitover,andtheyarewarm.Big.

“Thanks,”Isay.“Forrescuingme.Thatguy…hewas…”
“Awasteoflife.Scum.”
Itakeabreath.“I’msuchacompleteidiot.LikeKellyAnnewouldeverstickaroundafteracoupleof

tequilas.”Ilaughbutitsoundspathetic.“WhatadufusIam.”

“Sheleftyouonyourbirthday.She’sthedufus,Laine.”
Heslipsoffhiscoat,andIrealisehowtailoreditis.Hehasashirton,white.Itfitshimsoperfectly,

likethosepeopleyouseeinexpensivewatchadverts.Hecouldbeoneofthose.

Herustlesinoneofthebagsandpullsoutabunchofflowers,acreamcake,too.Iwatchmute.Likea

fool.Hedigsaroundinadrawerandturnshisbacktometoblockmyview.

Whenheturnsbackaroundthereisoneofthoselittlestripedbirthdaycandlesstuckintheicing.It’s

lit,thistinylittleflameflickeringaway.

Idon’tknowwhyitmakesmewanttocry.
Hiseyesaresodark.Itwasn’tjusttheshadowsinthecar.HeapproachesandI’mnotevenwatching

thecandle,I’mwatchinghim.

“Happybirthday,Laine.Sorry,it’sthebestIcoulddo.Theydidn’thavemuchofabirthdayselection

atthepetrolstation.”

Theflowersarecarnations.Redones.Thecakeischocolate.AneclairwiththatthickdarkicingI

lovebest.

It’sthebestbirthdaycakeI’veeverhad.Thethoughtpricksatmyeyesandmythroatfeelsscratchy.

Ridiculous.I’mridiculous.

Drunk,andhighonadrenaline,andtired,andscared,andhappy.
“Thanks,”Isay,likethatcouldevercutit.
Butitdoes.Itdoescutit.Hesmileslikeit’senough.
“Makeawish,”hesays.

AndIdo.
It’sastupidwish.
Acrazywish.
AwishI’vebeenmakingeveryyearforaslongasIcanremember.
Iwish,Iwishuponastar.Iwishformydaddy,whereveryouare.
Idon’tknowwheremydaddyis.Iwouldn’tevenknowhimifIsawhim.
Butrightnow,theguywhorescuedmefromtherain,theguywiththedarkeyes,andthesmatteringof

greyhairathistemples,andtheshirtthatlookslikeitcamefromanexpensivewatchadvert.Rightnow,I
wishthisguycouldbemydaddy.

CHAPTERTWO

ICK

ACULINEA

RION

isthelargestandrarestoftheblueEnglishbutterflies.Little,blue-eyedLaine

remindsmeofone—fragileanddelicateandinvitingpredators,withnoideaofitsownbeauty.

Icollectbutterflies.
Notinaputthelotioninthebasketstyle,justbecauseIfindthembothfascinatingandbeautiful.
Unfortunatelythey’reusuallydeadbythetimeI’mabletoadmirethemnow.Longgonearelong

summerdaysinthemeadow,armedwithabutterflynetandaspotterguidetoBritishwildlife.

Laine’sbreathisawisp,hereyessparklingforamomentasshemakesherbirthdaywish.
IwanttoaskwhatagirllikeLainewishesfor,butIdon’t.
“Youhaveabeautifulhouse,”shesays,andthecolourisbackinhercheeks.
“Thankyou.”
SheasksmeifIwanttosharehercakewithher.Itellherit’sallforher.Shegigglesasshegetscream

downherchin,andIsmileandlaughalongwithher,eventhoughitmakesmydicktwitch.

Itshouldn’t,butitdoes.
Shetellsmeshe’samessyeater.Clumsy.
Shesaysit’sbecauseshe’soneofthosejitterypeople.Anxious.
Ibelieveher.
ItmakesmewanttogripherditheryfingersaroundmycockandjerkintoherpalmuntilIcome.
Itshouldn’t,butitdoes.
Idigoutafluffypinkrobeforherandtellherit’smydaughter’s.Itakehertothebathroomandstand

outsidethedoorwhileshechanges.Shegivesmeherwetclothesinreturn,readyforthewasher,andmy
pulsequickensatthesightofthebunchoflittlewhiteknickersshe’sgivenmeonthetopofthebundle.

Therobedwarvesherwhenshecomesoutontothelanding,skinnylittlelegssodaintyunderneaththe

swathesofpinktowelling.Herhairisdryingoff,drippingatjusttheendsnow,andhereyesarefocused,
sharponmine.

She’sokhere.Shefeelsoknow.Shetellsmeso.Shethanksmeagain.
Igiveheratourofthehouseandmakeidleconversation,showherthebutterflypaintingsinthe

hallwayandtheoldnetIhadasaboy.SheasksmehowoldIamanddoesn’tevenapologiseforit,just
staresupatmeuntilIgiveherananswer.

“Forty-two.”
Toooldforyou.

IseethemanyquestionsbehindhereyesandIwonderifshe’sinterestedinmeorjustnaturally

curious.Shedoesn’tvoiceanyofthem,butIaskabouther.

LaineSeabourne.Nofather.Nosiblings.Amotherwho’soffwithherboyfriend,Denny.Laineisat

college,studyingchildcare.Lainelikeschildren.

Iaskherwhy,andshesaysnobodyhaseveraskedherthatbefore.
Isuspecttherearealotofthingsnobodyhaseveraskedherbefore.
Shesitsinanarmchairinmylivingroomandpullsherlegsupunderher.Herfingerstwiddleinher

lap,fiddlingwiththedressinggownbeltaroundherwaist.

“Doyouwantchildrenofyourown,Laine?”Iprompt.“Isthatwhy?”
Sheshrugs.“Idon’tthinkthat’swhy.”
Iwait.Listentoherbreathe.
Hersmilestillsmyheart.“Iguessmaybeit’sbecauseIgettogivethemthethingsIneverhad.”
“Thethingsyouneverhad?Youmeantoys?Games?”
Sheshakesherhead.“Time,”shesays.“Someonetoplaywith.IthinkIenjoyitasmuchastheydo.”

Hereyesglitterasshelooksatme,andIwonderwheresheisinhermind.Ifshe’splayingteacups,or
dolls,laughingasBarbiekissesKenunderthecovers.

Iwonderifsheeverplayedthatgame.
“Didn’tyouhaveanyonetoplaywith,Laine?”
“Sometimes,”shesays,“whenMumdidn’thaveaboyfriendandwasn’tatwork.Sheplayedwithme

then.Sometimes.”

“Mydaughterusedtoadorethoselittledollsthatfitinyourpocket.Theoneswiththerainbowhair,

doyouknowthem?”

Sheponders,thenshakesherhead,andIrealisehowbigtheagedifferenceis.Waybeforehertime.
“Whatisyourdaughter’sname?”sheasks,andmyheartprickles.
“Jane.”
Shesmiles.“ThankJaneforherdressinggown.It’sreallycosy.”
Inod,wonderifshe’lleverfindoutthatJaneneverownedanythinglikethedressinggownLaineis

wearing.

Shewon’tfindout.Ofcourseshewon’t.I’llbetakingherhometomorrow,makingsureshegetsinok,

andthenI’llbeleaving,niceknowingyou.I’llwaveheroffandhopeshehasanicelife,gladtohave
beenofservice.

AsLaineyawnsandshootsmeagrin,IknowI’mlyingtomyself.She’scomfortablehere,withme,as

thoughshe’salwaysbeenhere.Asthoughshebelongshere.

“Timeforbed,”Isay.“UpthosewoodenhillstoBedfordshire,younglady.”
I’msmilingasIgettomyfeet,itseemssonaturaltoholdoutahandtoher.Shetakesitwithwide

eyes.

“UncleJackusedtosaythattomewhenIwaslittle.”
“UncleJack?”
“OneofMum’soldboyfriends.Oneofthegoodguys.”Hereyesdrop.“Oneofthefew.”
MythroatfeelstightbutIignoreit.“I’llshowyoutoyourroom.”
Yourroom.
Shedoesn’tletgoofmyhand,notevenwhenI’vepulledhertoherfeet.Shekeepsittight,herlittle

fingerssosmallinmine.Iwalkherupstairsandintendtotakeherrighttotheendofthelanding,tothe
regularguestroomwherethesheetsarewhiteandthereisaTV,anensuiteandwardrobeandregular
picturesofpoppiesandaseasidelandscape.Theboringroom.Ishouldtakeherthere.

ButIdon’t.
IreachJane’sroomandmylegswon’twalkanyfurther.I’mrootedtothespot,mouthdryasIpress

downthedoorhandle.

Laine’seyeswidenasIflickthelightswitch,andIknowI’mdoomedwhenshesmiles.
“Ohwow!Wow!”shesays,andshe’stakingitallin.TheprincesscastleImademyselfoutofwood

andsilverpaint.Therockinghorseinthecorner,thepatchworkdolliesontheshelf.Iseeheradmirethe
littledressingtable,thewhitewoodenbedcarvedwithhearts.

Sugarandspiceandallthingsniceisstencilledonthewallabovethebed.
“That’swhatlittlegirlsaremadeof,”shesays.
Inod.“Makeyourselfathome.”
Shesqueezesmyhandbeforesheletsgo.“Thanks,Nick.Foreverything.Thisis…beautiful…”
IsqueezehersbackbeforeIlethergo.
“Sleeptight.”
Shesitsherselfonthebedandbounces.“Don’tletthebedbugsbite.”
She’ssmilingtoherselfasIclosethedoorbehindher.

AINE

HIS

ROOM

FAIRYTALE

PARADISE

Myhearthurts.Itactuallyhurts.
I’msojealousofthelifeJanemusthavehad,butmainlyI’mgratefulIgettoenjoyit,evenifit’sjust

foronelittlenight.

Isitatherdressingtableanduseherprettymirror.Ipulldownherdollsfromtheshelfonebyoneand

brushtheirhairwithhercutelittleprincesscomb.Ilookinalltheroomsofherprincesscastle.

IwishI’dhavehadevenoneofthesebeautifultoysgrowingup.
IwishI’dhavehadasugarandspiceandallthingsnicemessagewrittenabovemybed.
ButmostofallIwishI’dhadadadlikeNick.
Janemust’vebeensolucky.
IwonderhowmanytimessheplayedwiththecutelittleAliceinWonderlandteasetatthebottomof

thebed,whethersherodeherrockinghorseeverysingledayorjusttookitforgrantedandleftitsitting
untouched.Iwonderhowlongshe’sbeengonefromhere.Howoldsheis.Whatshelookslike.

Isnooparoundabit,butcan’tfindanyphotographsofher.
There’sonedrawing,pinnedbehindthedoor.Nothingbutascribblereally,ascribbledmanwitha

smileyface.

DaDDy.
Shemusthavebeenyoungwhenshedrewthat.MuchtooyoungtofitintothedressinggownI’m

wearing.

Myheartthumpsingratitudeforherdaddy.Hesavedme.Rescuedmeandgavemeabirthdaycake,

keptmewarmanddryandsafe.

IhopeheknowshowgratefulIam.
MaybewhenI’mhomeIcanofferhimdinner,justsomethingsmall,alittlesomethingtosaythankyou.

MaybeIcouldcookforhim.Forus.Somethingnice…

ThethoughtofNickbeinginmyhouseislikeanicewaterbath.Nickwouldn’tbelongthere,amongst

thecrackedkitchentilesandthefridgethatdoesn’treallyshutproperly,notunlessyoukickit.Nickis
opulentandstylishandclassy.Nickis…Perfect.

Mytummyflutters.
Nickisperfect.
Iturnonthelittlewhitelamponthebedsidetableandtakeoffmydressinggown,feelingstrangely

youngmyself,nakedinthislittlegirl’sroom.Ihangthedressinggownonthebackofthedoorbythe
DaDDypicture.

IclimbintoJane’sbedandstareupattheceiling,thinkaboutherlyinghereandknowingherdaddyis

justalongthecorridor,readytokeephersafethisdayandtomorrowandthenextday,andeverysingle
dayuntilshe’sallgrownup.

Iwishthatcouldhavebeenme.
IthinkaboutNick’sfirmgriponmyarmwhenherescuedmefromtheroad.Ihearhisvoiceashetold

thathorriblemantoleavemealone.Hewassostrong,sopowerful…

Ithinkabouthishandgrippingmine.
Ithinkabouthishands…
Idon’tusuallytouchmyself.Justeverynowandagain,everysooften.KellyAnnelaughsatme,says

I’mastupidprudebecauseI’veneverevenusedavibrator.

Howcanyouneverhaveusedavibrator?Christ,Laine,you’resuchalittlekid!
IrememberhowshelaughedwhenItoldherI’dneverusedatampon,onlytowels.Irememberhow

horrifiedshe’dlookedwhenItoldherI’dneverputmyfingersinsidemyself.

Howcanyounot?!Howcanyouevensurvivewithoutsex,Laine?!
Isurvivejustfine.Idon’tusuallyeventhinkaboutitthatmuch.I’mtoobusywithcollege,andkeeping

thehouseclean,andplanningafuture.Somekindoffuture.

I’mtoobusytryingtobeagrownup,becausemymotherisprettymuchincapableofbeingone.

Alwayshasbeen.

That’swhatIdidn’ttellNick,whenheaskedwhychildcare.It’sbecauseit’stheonlytimeI’mreally

happy,whenIcandisappearintoamagicalimaginaryworldwithchildrenandlivetherewiththemfora
littlewhile.WhenIcanforgetI’mabiggirlwhohastocleanupafterhermotherbecausehermother’s
neverbeenmuchofonefortakingcareofherself.WhenIcanforgetthatIspentmyeveningsafterschool
tryingtocookmyselfdinneranddomyhomeworkandtidythehouseup.

WhenIcanforgetaboutthenoisescomingthroughthewallfrommymum’sroomeverynightandhow

theymademefeel.

Isighanditsoundsloudintheroom.
Thatshouldhavebeenmybirthdaywish.IwishIcouldlivehereforever.
Ithinkaboutit.Livinghere.BeingJane.Andthethoughtmakesmesmile.
IthinkaboutNickbeingmydaddy,andmakingmybreakfastinthemorningandrufflingmyhair.
IthinkaboutNickholdingmyhandandtellingmeI’magoodgirl.Kissingmeonthehead.
Kissingme.
IthinkaboutNick’smouth.
Hisbighands.
Ithinkabouthimtouchingme.
IthinkabouthimmakingthenoisesIheardthroughmybedroomwall.
Ithinkabouthowitwouldfeel.Ifitwouldhurt.
Irubmyclitanditfeelssonaughty,touchingmyselfinhisdaughter’sbedwhilehesleepsdownthe

corridor.Itfeelsnaughtyandwrong,andmaybeit’sthecombinationofadrenalineandrelief,butIcan’t
stop,notevenwhenIhearfootstepsonthelandingandrealisehe’snotasleep.NotevenwhenIreachthat
placewhereIbreathesoquicklyImakelittlegasps,andmyheartraces,andmytoescurl.

Mybreathissoloudwhenit’sover.
IrollontomysideandpullmykneestomychestandrealisethatJane’sbedcreaks.

IconvincemyselfthatNickdefinitelywon’thaveheardme.Definitelynot,noway.Notonelittle

chance.Notevenone.

UntilIhearhisfootstepsmoveawayfromthebedroomdoor.
Ohshit.

CHAPTERTHREE

ICK

TELL

myselfIalwaysleavethebathroomdooropenwhenItakemymorningshower,that’soneofthe

advantagesoflivingalone.ItellmyselfI’vealwayspreferredtheshowerinthemainbathroom—theone
onthelandingthatopensdirectlyacrossfromJane’sdoor.ItellmyselfthatLaineisasleep,thatshe’s
probablyexhaustedandI’llbelongfinishedanddressedbythetimeshesurfaces.

IwishtoGodIhadn’theardherlastnight.IwishIhadn’tlingered,hadn’tpressedmyeartoher

bedroomdoortohearherexploringJane’stoyswithcuriousfingers.Onlythosetoysaren’tJane’stoys.I
nevergotachancetogivemostofthosebeautifultoystomylittlegirl.

IwantedtomakesureLainewenttosleepok,that’swhatItellmyself.Iwantedtobesureshewasn’t

stillscared,wouldn’tlieawakeallnightfrettingoverthepieceofshitwhotriedtomolestherinan
alleyway.

Mycockdefinitelywasn’thard.Itdefinitelydidn’ttakeallofmyrestraintnottojackmyselfofflikea

cheappervertoutsideherdoor.

Idefinitelydidn’twanttohearhertouchingherself.
Myshouldersfeeltightuntilthehotwaterworksitsmagic.Thegirlshouldn’tevenbehere.Thisis

reckless.Ridiculous.

Idon’tmakestupidrasherrorsofjudgement.That’ssomethingIlearnedfrommyfather.
Everydecisionhasconsequences,he’dsay.Makesureyou’rewellawarewhattheyarebeforeyou

subjectyourselftothem.

HesubjectedmetoenoughconsequencesthatIstillbearthescarsacrossmybackside.Brutal,but

fair,andhemademeabettermanforit.Asmartman.Acalculatedman.Adetermined,responsible,
powerfulman.

Justlikehewas.
Amanwhodoesn’tpickupvulnerableyoungwomenandputthemtobedinhislittlegirl’sroom.Ifhe

wasn’talreadylonginhisgrave,myfatherwouldtanmybacksideafreshformystupidity.Ismileto
myselfathismemoryandlatheronsomebodywash.Iscrubhard,workingthesudsintomyskinasthough
theystandachanceofcleansingmyimpureurges.

I’veworkedhardtokeepmyimpulsesundercontrol.Workedhardtoexpressmydesiresinan

acceptableway.Nowreallyisn’tthetimetobethinkingaboutthem,notwithtemptationpersonified
sleepingsoundlyacrossthelanding.Ishampoomyhair,workingmyfingersintomyscalp,tryingtogetmy
headbackinthegame.

Breakfast.Lainewillneedbreakfast.She’llneedherclothes.She’llneedtakingbackhome,where

shebelongs.

Still,Icanenjoyherjustalittle,justenoughtogetmybloodpumpingwhenIthinkbackonher

beautiful,innocentsmilelaterthisevening.

Abitofharmlessfunneverhurtanyone.

AINE

ANE

’

BED

isreallycomfortable.Herroomlookssowarmandcosyasthelightbreaksthroughthegauzy

curtains.Istretchout,kickbackthesheets,relaxingquitehappilyuntilIrememberwithathudthatNick
heardmeplayingwithmyselflastnight.

Shit.
Myheartracesatthethoughtoffacinghim.HowungratefulcanIpossiblybe?Takingadvantageofhis

kindhospitalitybyplayingwithmyselfinhisdaughter’sbedroom?Inhisdaughter’spinkbedsheets?
Cringedoesn’tevencomeclose.

Ibitemylip,thinkthingsthrough,andthere’snothingelseforit.Ijustneedtogetitoverwith.Smile

andfacehimandhopeheisn’ttoomadwithme.Ican’tbearthethoughtofamanlikeNickbeingmad
withme.Disappointedinme.

IgrabJane’srobefromthebackofthedoorandtracemyfingerovertheDaDDywritingonher

picture.She’ssolucky.

ImakesureI’mwrappeduptightbeforeIopenthedoor,checkmyselfinthedressingtablemirrorand

smoothmywispyhairintosomekindoforder.Ilooksoyounginthemorninglight,inthisroom,asthough
I’veregressedtobeingalittlegirlagain.

Thethoughtfeelslikewarmmarshmallowsinmybrain.
IholdmybreathasIpressdownthedoorhandle.Herewego.Nowornever.
Maybeheisn’tevenupyet.Maybehe’salreadyupandgone,leavingmyclothesinapilewithnothing

butagetoutofmyhouse,youdirtylittlebitchmessagewaitingforme.

Ihopenot.
Ihearthewaterassoonasthedoorisajar.Thesoundismuchstrongerthanitisatmyhouse,our

showerisbarelymorethanatrickleatbest.IstepoutontothelandingandmytummylurchesasIseethat
thebathroomisopposite.Thedoorisopen,justalittlebit.Icanseeamirroredbathroomcabinetonthe
wall,allsteamedup.Ablacktowellingrobeisinaheaponthefloor.Mybreathhitchesatthethoughtof
himinthere,thethoughtofhimnakedunderthewater.

ForthefirsttimeinmylifeIdon’twanttobeavirginanymore.Iwanttobeconfident,likeasex

vixen.OneofthosegirlslikeKellyAnnewhocangoafterwhatshewants.IfKellyAnnewerehereshe’d
ditchthefluffypinkdressinggownandstalkintherenaked.Flashhimasmileandahellothereandclimb
straightinafterhim.

Hell,I’mnothinglikeKellyAnne,andevenifIwere,amanlikeNickisn’tgoingtowantasillylittle

girllikeme.Iwouldn’tevenknowwhatIwasdoing.

Heprobablydatesbusinesswomentypes,olderladieswithhotglassesandtightbuns,andawicked

smile.Womenwhocantalkpoliticswithhimovercoffeeandtalkdirtywithhimbetweenthesheets.The
thoughtofNicktalkingdirtymakesmyskinprickle.

IwonderagainifhemakesthekindofnoisesI’veheardcomingfromMum’sbedroom.

Itrytopullmyselftogether,decidethatit’sprobablybettertogoandwaitinJane’sroomuntilhe’s

finished,butIdon’t.I’minthatstrangeplaceagain,whereeverythingfeelssurreal,andmyfeetare
movingontheirown,tiptoestepssocarefulasIinchmywayacrossthelanding.Justalittlefurther.Ijust
wanttoseealittlebitmore…

Ishouldn’t.Ireallyshouldn’t.ButIcan’tstopmyself.
Idon’twanttostopmyself.
IkeepmyeyesonthetilesasIedgecloser.Theyarethoseexpensivekind,likethosespahotelshave.

IwenttooneonceforKellyAnne’sbirthday,justforaswim,butIcouldn’tstopstaringateverything.It
wassobeautiful,sogrand.Nick’shouseislikethat.Hehasoneofthosemodernbasins,oneofthebig
ceramicbowlsthatsitsontopoftiles,notlikethetiredoldsinkwehaveatmine.Hehasgolden-brown
towelsoveroneofthosefancymetalradiators.Theymatchthecolourofthebathroomperfectly.He’sso
stylish.

Ithinkofthosetowelstouchinghisskin,thinkofhimrubbinghimselfdownwhenhe’sfinished,and

myeyescreepfurtherin,mytoesedgingclosertothedoorway.Icanfeelthesteamonmyface.

Itfeelsnice.
Ishouldn’tbedoingthis.Ican’tevenbelieveI’mdoingthis.
Itakeabreathasmytoestouchthetiles,eyeswideasIleanforwardenoughtopeeparoundthedoor.
Insane.I’minsane.
Butheleftthedooropen…itwashismistake…maybeIdidn’trealise…maybeIwantedthetoilet…
Thesightofhimmakesmytummyflutterandlurch.He’sgothisbacktome,hisbigfingerslathering

shampoointohishair.Hisshouldersarebroad,andhisbacktapersintoaslimwaist.He’smuscular…
toned…Icanseethedefinitioninhisbackeventhroughthesteam.

OhLord,pleasedon’tlethimseeme…
Hetipshisheadbacktoletthewaterrinsehishair,andhishandsmoveoverhisbody.IwishIcould

seethefrontofhim.IwishIcouldseeallofhim.

Heleansback,andhishandsmovelower.Hisperfectasstightens,histhighssotense,andIcansee

hisarms,moving…anditfeelsso…

Dirty.
He’stouchinghimself.
Thewaveofshockripplesthroughme,anditmakesmybrainpop…likethetimeIturnedontheTV

inthelivingroomanditwasonachannelitshouldn’tbe,playingoneofMum’sboyfriend’sdirty
DVDs…

I’dclosedmyeyesinstinctively,thenwatcheditthroughsplayedfingersknowingperfectlywellI

shouldn’t.KnowingIshouldn’tbetinglinginprivateplaces,shouldn’twanttotouchmyselfatthesightof
thosebigveinydicksonscreen.

They’dlookedsobig.MuchbiggerthanI’dimagined.
ThosemenmadethesamenoisesIheardthroughmybedroomwall.
AndNick’smakingnoises,too.
Quietones.Nothingbutbreathandgrunts.Icanbarelyhearhimoverthesoundofthewaterbutit’sthe

mostamazingthingI’veeverheard.

Mythighsclenchtight,anditfluttersthere.IwanttoracebacktoJane’sbedandtouchmyself,butI

can’t,Ican’tstopwatching.Itseemstotakeforever,standingstatuestillasNick’sarmjerksandthewater
washesoverhim,butIdon’tcare.Iwantittotakeforever.

Hebracesahandagainstthetilesandlowershishead,andhisgruntsareabitloudernow,hiships

thrustingforward.Heswearsunderhisbreath,andIknowthisisit,knowhe’sabouttocome.I’veseenit
ontheinternet,Iknowhowcockslookwhenmencome.IwonderifNick’slooksjustlikethat.Mybreath
issofast,butsoshallow.

Iwatchitall.Watchhimtenseandthrust,soakingupthewayhisbodylooks,allthenoiseshemakes.
Whenhe’sdone,herelaxes,washeshimselfofflikenothing’shappened,andrealitycrashesin,the

horrorofknowingI’vebeenspyingonsomeone’smostprivatemoments.Heturnsoffthewaterquicker
thanIexpect,andI’msprungrightoutofmydazedstate.Ibackaway,clumsythistime,dashbackacross
thelandingtoJane’sroomandclosethedoorbehindme.

ItclosestooloudandIfeelhorrendous.
Embarrassmentburnssohot.
Idiveunderthecoversandpullthemhighovermyhead.Screwmyeyestightshutandtryandcalm

myracingheart.

Shit.
Shit.Shit.Shit.
WhatthehellhaveIdone?
IflinchasIheararapatthedoor,waitingforNicktoordermeoutofhere,waitingforhimtodemand

anexplanationthatIdon’tstandahopeinhellofgiving.

Thehandleturns.
Slowly.
Soslowly.

CHAPTERFOUR

ICK

ONLY

CAUGHT

aglimpseofher.Aflashofpinkasshedartedfromthebathroom,herpresenceconfirmed

bythesoundofJane’sbedroomdoorclosingacrossthelanding.Idon’tknowhowlongshe’dbeen
watching,butthethoughtofherblueeyesstaringatmynakednessthroughsteamyglassmakesmyballs
tinglealloveragain.

Iremindmyselfthatthisisunacceptable.Ialsoremindmyselfthatthisisalsogoingtobeshort-lived.

Adirtyflashinaverydangerouspan,butoneI’llreliveoverandoverinmyfantasieswhenlittleLaineis
longgone.

Irapatherdoorandgiveherafewsecondsbeforeturningthehandle.
HereyesarewideasIswingthedooropenandstepinside,thebedcoversuptoherchin,herpretty

cheeksflushedpink.Shelooksguilty.Embarrassed.Gorgeous.

Itsuitsher,anddoesnothingwhatsoevertoeasethetemptation.
“Riseandshine,sleepyhead,”Isay,asthoughIhaven’tgotanyinklingshe’sjustwatchedmewhack

oneoffintheshower.Icrosstheroomwithhereyesfollowingmealltheway,andhereyelashesflutteras
Ipullthecurtainswide.Brightmorningsunlightfallsperfectlyonherblondehair.Shelookssoinnocent,
alittleangelinalittlegirl’sroom.“Ihopeyousleptwell?”

Shesmilesarelievedsmile,andshe’ssobeautifulhere,inthisroom.Herpresencebringstheplaceto

lifeagain.

Shenodsherprettyhead.“Idid.Isleptreallywell.Thankyou.Thankyousomuchforeverything.”
“Yourclotheswillbedry,”Itellher,wishingIdidn’thaveto.“Let’sgodown,getsomebreakfast.

Areyouhungry?Youmustbehungry,Laine.”

Shenodsagain,thenthrowsbackthecovers,swinginghertinyfeetoutontothefloor.“Breakfast

soundsreally,reallygood.”

ShelookssowarmandcosywrappedinJane’spinkdressinggown.Theurgetohugherisstrong,to

feelhertightagainstme.Toholdsomeoneagain.

Itakeabreath.“Let’sseewhatwecanrustleup.”
Shefollowsmedownstairswithbouncysteps,andherfeetbarelymakeasoundonthewoodenfloor

asIleadherthroughtothekitchen.Ipatoneofthestoolsatthebreakfastbarandshehitchesherselfup,
adjustingherpinkrobewithadelightfullittlehintofself-consciousnessthatmakesmymouthwater.

IknowIshouldshowrestraintandofferheraregularbreakfast.Mueslioryoghurt,likeI’llbehaving,

maybesometoastwithmarmalade,butthatperverselittlethrillisticklingthroughme,andIveeraway

fromsensibilityenoughtopullouttheboxoffrostedpuffsIpickedupfromthepetrolstationlastnight.I
shaketheboxandholditupforhertosee,agrinningcartoonleprechaungracingthepacket.

“Doyoulikecereal,Laine?Ithoughtyoumightlikethese.”
Howmydicktwitchesashereyeslightup.“Ilovefrostedpuffs!Howdidyouknow?!”shesays.
Ishrug.“Aluckyguess.”
“They’retheoneswiththemarshmallowstars,aren’tthey?IbeggedmymumforthosewhenIwas

little!”

Little.Shelookssolittle.Perchedonthestool.
Ipourthemintoabowlandpickheroutoneofmysmallestspoons.Alittlespoonforasweetlittle

mouth.

ShebeamsupatmeasIplacethebowlinfrontofher,asthoughI’vejustboughtherashowpony,not

acheapboxofcereal.Ipourthemilk,askhertosaywhen.

“When!”shegiggles,andstirsthebowlwithherspoon,watchingthemarshmallowstarsdriftaround.

Theyturnthemilkpink.

Igetusbothanorangejuiceandsitmyselfdownoppositehertoeatmymuesli.Iwatcheverything.

Thewayshescoopsoutjusttherightamountoffrostedpuffswithherstars.Thewayshecloseshereyes
asshecrunchesthem.Theinnocentenjoymentinhersmile.

IwouldhappilywatchlittleLaineSeabourneeatfrostedpuffsforever,andIfeelajabofresentment

attheknowledgethatIwon’t.Itpainsmethatsuchasweet,graciousgirlhasnobodywaitingbackat
hometolookafterher.Nobodytheretokeephersafe.

Butthat’snotmybusiness,normyproblem.
“TellmeaboutJane,”shesays,anditcatchesmeoffguard.
Mybreathcatchesinmythroat.“AboutJane?Whatdoyouwanttoknow?”
Shesmiles.“Whereisshe?Iguessshedoesn’tlivehereanymore?”
“No,”Isay.“Jane’slonggonefromhere.”
“Allgrownup,”shegrins,andit’stheperfectopportunityforasubjectchange.
“So,howdoesitfeeltobeanofficialadult?”Iask.“Eighteenisabigmilestone.”
Sheshrugs.“Idon’tfeelanydifferent.I’vekindahadtobeanadultforalongtime.Well,asmuchof

anadultasIcanbe.”Hersmiledoesn’tmaskhersadness,notquite.“Imean,it’smymum.She’sjust…
sheworked,whenIwaslittle.Itwashardforhertotakecareofme.Shetried.”

SomehowIdoubtthat.
“Soyouhadtotakecareofyourself?”
Shenods,“Yeah.Nothingwrongwiththatthough,right?It’sgoodtobeabletotakecareofyourself.I

cookameantoastedsandwich.Microwavemeals?Noproblem.”Shegiggles,butitsoundsfalse.Idon’t
answerandshesighs.“Janeisreallyluckytohaveadadlikeyou.I’dhavelovedtohaveadadlikeyou.”

“Thankyou,”Isay,andthewordsalmoststickinmythroat.
“Imeanit,”shesays.“Herroomisamazing.Thewritingonherwall…herfairytalecastle…allthe

toysshehad…”

“Toysdon’tmeananything,”Itellher.“It’slovethatmatters.”
Herspoonstopsmid-air,andhereyesstareintomine.“Iwouldn’tknow.”Sheshakesherhead,

checksherself.“Sorry.Waytoomuchinformation.”Shepullsastupidface,tipsherheadtotheside.
“Stoptalkingnow,Laine.”Shedipsherspoonbackintothebowlandstirsthecereal.

“No,”Isay.“Don’tstoptalking.Notunlessyouwantto,ofcourse.”
Shefishesoutapinkstar.“Thesearereallyyummy.”
Itakethehint.“I’mgladyou’reenjoyingit.”
“Somuch,”shesays.“Really,reallymuch.”
Shefinishesupthebowl,andspoonsupeverylastdropofmilk.Thenshewaits.Watchesmefinish

mymuesliwithagentlesmileonherface.

Wesitinsilenceaformoment,andthere’safeelinginme,adesperateurgetotellhershedoesn’t

havetogohometoanemptyhouse,wherenobodyreallycaresabouther.TotellherIlikeher.Totellher
Iwanttotakecareofher,thewayIwantedtotakecareofJaneallthoseyearsago.

Totellherthetruth.
Itellhernothing,justputouremptybowlsinthesinkandgatherherclothesfromthelaundryroom.

Shetakesthemfrommyarms,tellsmethanks,andIforceoutthewordsIneedtosay.

“We’dbetterbegettingyouhome.”

AINE

JOURNEY

GOES

TOO

QUICKLY

.Theworldzoomsbyoutsidethewindowandmyheartthumpsatthehorror

thatthisisit.Goodbye.

Ireallydon’twantthistobegoodbye.
Mypalmsarehotandclammy,andmyfingersarefidgety.TheytwiddlearoundandaroundasItryto

thinkofawaytomakethislast.

Ijustwanttoseehimagain.
Myemotionsarechurnedintoabigmessyballinmystomach.Itfeelsweird,uncomfortable,these

feelingsforNicktwistingandturning,soconfused.IfeltsosafeinJane’sroom,cocoonedinthisfloaty
bubble,likecottoncandyataspringfair.Ifeltsosafethere,sosafeinNick’shouse,thatIwantedtobe
Jane.

AndIstillwanttobeJanenow.
ButIwatchedhim.Iwatchedhimintheshower.IwatchedhimandIlikedit.Ithoughtabouthim

touchingmeandIlikedthattoo.

Ilikehim.
Ilikehimlikethat.
Thecombinationfeelsicky.Weird.
Flutteryandweird.
Ican’tstraightenitoutanditwon’tgoaway,soIjustkeepstaringoutofthewindowandprayinghe’ll

letmeseehimagain.

Ican’tbearthethoughtofneverseeinghimagain.
HeasksmefordirectionstoKellyAnne’shouseandIwanttolie,tellhimshelivesfaraway,thatI

can’trememberhowtoevengetthere,butIdon’t.IpointhimontoherestateinNewhaven,andhe
indicatesontoherstreet.

Idirecthimintoherparents’drivewayandholdmybreath,scaredhe’llsayhisgoodbyesand

disappearnowI’mbackonhometurf.Hedoesn’t.

Heputsthecarinneutralandsayshe’llwaitforme.
Ismileinrelief.
“I’llberightback,”Isay.“Justaminute.”
Henods,smiles,andIfumblewiththedoorhandle,tripovermynervylimbsasIbundleoutofthe

car.IpullmycardiganaroundmyselfasIringherdoorbell,andIcansmellhislavenderfabric
conditioner.Ilovethewayitsmells.

It’sKellyAnne’smumwhoanswersthedoor.Shetakesmyarmandwelcomesmein,yellingtoKelly

Anneupstairstoannouncemyarrival.

“Goonup,”shesays.“She’sstillinherpit.”
“Thanks,MrsDean,”Isay.
Shetutsatme.“It’sMary,”shesays.“HowmanytimesdoIhavetotellyouit’sMary?”Hersmileis

kindandlacedwiththatlittlebitofpityI’vegrownusedto.

Ismilebackatherthenmakemywayupstairs.KellyAnne’sbedroomdoorisclosedtight.Idon’t

botherknocking,justletmyselfinandnavigatethetrailofdirtylaundryuntilI’matherbed.

“KellyAnne?”
Shegroans,rollsover,andsleepyeyesbarelyfocusonme.
“KellyAnne,it’sme.”
“Laine?Whatareyoudoinghere?Whattimeisit?”Shegropesforthephoneonherbedsidecabinet,

checksthetimeandgroansagain.“Urgh,notevenmidday.”

“Youtookmykeys!”Isnap,andallthefearfromlastnightcomesrushingback.“Myphone,too!My

purseandmyID!Iwasstuckoutallnight!”

Shecomestohersenses,propsherselfuponherelbowwithaconfusedexpressiononherface.

“What?”

Ishakemyhead.“Jeez,Kels.Youtookeverything!Itwasallinyourbag!”
Sheraiseshereyebrows.“No,”shesays.“Itwasn’t.Ittotallywasn’t!”
Ifeelmyjawhitthefloor,gawpingassherootsaroundthefloorforherhandbag.Shepullsoutthe

contents.Lipstickandcondomsandaloadofcrumpledreceipts.

“Butwhere…”Istammer.“What…”
“Onthetable!”shesaid.“Youwereinthetoilet.Ileftyourstuffrightonthetableforyou!Ieven

scribbledanoteonabeermat!”

“Buttherewasn’t…”Ithinkbacktolastnight.Tothehorrorofreturningtomyseattofinditoccupied

byotherpeople,noKellyAnneinsight.NoKellyAnneinthewholeclub.

“Ileftitwiththoseguys…”shecontinues.“Theoneswedownedashotwithatthebar…theywere

rightthere,atthetablenexttoours…”

Ican’thidethehorror.“Youleftmystuffwithaloadofdrunkguysanddisappeared?Youleftmy

moneyandmykeysandmyphonewithtotalstrangersandbailedonme,onmyownbirthday?”

Shecoversherfacewithherhands.“Shit,Laine.Iwaswrecked.Theyseemedalright…”
“Buttheyweren’talright.Clearlytheyweren’talright.”
Shestaresatme,andhereyesarepinkandhungover.“Yougothomethough,right?Noharmdone.”
“No.Ididn’t!”
ShesitsupinbedandI’msoangry,mynailsarediggingintomypalms,thinkingaboutwhatcould’ve

been,allbecauseshewastoobusygettingdownwithsomerandomguy.“Sowhathappened?”shesays.
“Wheredidyougo?!”

Itrytostartfromthebeginning,butthewordswon’tcome.Idon’twantthemto.Idon’twanttotell

heraboutNick,ortheguyinthealleyway,orbeingrescued.Idon’twanttotellheraboutJane’sroom,
andfrostedpuffsandwatchinghimcomeintheshower.

Itfeelstickly,andraw.Andprivate.
“Soyoudon’thavemystuff?”Isay.“Notanyofit?”
Shegroans.“Sorry.I’mreallysorry,Laine.Ipulledanassholemove.”
Atleastsheknowsit.
Itrynottoletitupsetme,justlikealways.Trynottotakeittoheart.Trynottocomprehendthescale

ofthedisasteronmyhandsnowI’minthecoldlightofdayandstilldon’thaveanyofmythings.Butit’s
hard.It’sreallyhard.

“I’mgonnago,”Isay,andmyvoiceistickly.

“Go?!Gowhere?”
“Home…”Isay.“I’llseeifIcangetin…throughawindow…”
Shethrowsbackthecoversandstartsgatheringclothesfromthefloor.“I’llcomewithyou.”
“No!”Isay,andmytonemakesherstopinhertracks.“It’sfine…you’restillhungover,andI’m…”
“You’relockedfuckingout,”shesays,likeIdon’tknowthat.“It’stheleastIcando.”
Anditis.Itistheleastshecando.Butit’stoolateforthatnow,andIdon’twantherhelp,notwith

Nickoutside.

Ibackaway,headingforthedoor,tellheragainthatit’sfine,thatI’llcope,thatsheshouldgetbackto

sleep.

Shedoesn’tneedallthatmuchconvincing.Norealsurprisethere.
“Letmeknowyou’realright,yeah?”shecallsafterme.“I’vegotsomuchtotellyouaboutHarrison.

Thatwashisname,youknow!Harrison!Andhewassohot!”

Harrison.
That’stheguyIhavetothankfornearlylosingmyvirginitytosomeassholeinabackalley.
IsaygoodbyetoMrsDeanonthewayout,anddomybestnottocrybeforeIbreakthenewstoNick.

CHAPTERFIVE

ICK

“A

SET

?”Iask,andthenIseethedefeatinLaine’seyes.

Sheshakesherhead,bucklingherselfintoherseatwithshakyfingers.Hervoicecomesoutsoweak,

barelymorethanawhisper.

“KellyAnnedoesn’thavemythings.Notanyofthem.Sheleftthem,intheclub.”
“Intheclub?”Ipulloutmyphone.“Whatwasthenameoftheplace?I’llcalllostproperty.”
Herdaintyfingersreachoutandlandonmywrist,sogently.“There’snopoint…”shesays.“Sheleft

themonthetable…withsomeguys…whenIwasinthebathroom…”

Myexpressionmustspeakvolumesbecausehereyeswidenasshecontinues.“Shewasdrunk.She

doesn’tmeanit.KellyAnneisjust…”

“KellyAnneisaselfishfool,”Isay.“Andyou’resomuchbetterthanfriendslikeher,Laine.”
Shedoesn’tlooklikeshebelievesme.Hereyesaresadandglassy,hercheekspale.Iputthecarin

gear,reverseoutontothestreet.“We’llgotoyours,”Isay.“Seewhatwecando.”

“Theremaybeawindowopen…upstairs…Imaybeabletoclimbthrough…”
Thereisn’tachanceinhellI’mgoingtobelettinghershimmyupsomedrainpipe,butIdon’tsaythat.

Notyet.

Herestateleavesalottobedesired.It’stiredandcramped,withovergrowngardensandbatteredold

carsinthestreet.Hersisalittlewhitemid-terrace.Thegardenisneatbutbarren.Thefrontdoorhas
chippedredpaint,andassoonasIpullthecarontoherdrivewayit’sclearshewon’tneedtobelooking
foranopenwindow.Thefrontdoorisalreadyopen,justenoughtoseeintothedarkhallwaybeyond.

Laineisoutofthecarinaflash,butIreachherbeforeshemakesitacrossthegarden.Igripher

elbow,pullherbacktomyside.

“Wait,”Isay,andmyvoicecomesoutharsherthanIintenditto.“I’llgofirst.”
Itakeastepforward,andasInudgethedooropenIhearLaine’spainedgaspbehindme.
Theplaceisahovel.Nothingbutawastelandofemptybeercansandtrash.Therearefishandchips

scatteredalloverthefloor,asmearoftomatoketchuponthewall.

“OhmyGod,”shecries.“Whatthe…”
Isteponthroughtothelivingroom,andit’sinaworsestatethanthehallway.Ifindherkeysonthe

cigarette-litteredcoffeetable,andthere’sherID,too.Laine’ssweetfacestaresoutfromhercollegecard,
andthere’severythingtheyneededrightthere.Heraddressinplainlettering.

There’snosignofherphoneorhermoney,ofcourse.,

Lainebusiesherselfaroundme,pickingupemptybottlesandcansthroughsnifflesofpain,butit’sa

thanklesstask.Theassholeshaveclearlyhadarareoldtime,nodoubtthrilledatthehedonistic
destructionofLaine’shome.

Shewipeshersnifflesonhercardigansleeve.“Youcanleave,Nick.Pleaseleave.Thisisdisgusting.

Horrible…Youdon’tneedtobehere…”

Sheclearsanotherchippaperandunderneathisafilthyusedrubber.It’sstainedthefabricsofa

underneathwithagrotesquewhitesmear.

Ipulloutmyphoneanddialthepolice,tellLaineexactlywhatI’mdoing,butsheshakesherhead.
“Whatcanthepolicedo?Theyhadakey!Thisisallmyownfault!IshouldneverhaveleftKelly

Annewithmystuff…”

Herself-recriminationshocksmeenoughtocancelthecall.“Thisisnotyourfault,Laine.Somedregs

ofsocietydidthis,someloserswithnomoralfibre,whoexistjusttowreckeverythingaroundthem.They
didthis.Helpedbyyourveryconsideratefriend.”

“Butstill,Ishould’veknownbetter!Ishould’veknown!”
“Don’ttouchthat,”Isayasshetriestopickuptherubberinsomegreasypaper.“Don’ttouch

anything.Notasinglething,Laine.”

“ButIhaveto…”shesays.“Ihavetocleanup!”
Butshedoesn’t.Shedoesn’thavetodoathingaroundthisshithole.
“Imeanit,”Itellher.“Don’ttouchanything.”
Shestopsmoving,givesmealittlenod.
“Waitrighthere.”
Shedoesn’tfollowmeasIsurveytherestofthehouse,andI’mglad,becausetheplaceiscompletely

destroyed.

Thekitchenboretheworstofit,orsoitappearsuntilIreachthelandingandseeLaine’sopen

bedroomdooratthefarend.

Herroomisplainmagnoliawithsomeofthepaintchippedaway,justliketherestoftheplace.Her

bedisanoldwoodenthing,justasingle,andhercarpetisthreadbareinplaces.Whatyoucanseeofit,
anyway.

Itpainsmetoseehowthey’verampagedthroughherwardrobe,painsmefurthertofindanotherused

rubberinherbedsheets.They’vetakenhermakeupandusedittoscrawlobscenitiesoverherdressing
tablemirror.Therestistrampledintothecarpet.Ipullasweetwhitedressfromherwastepaperbasket,
andit’sbeenshredded,rippedalmostcleanintwo.Therestofherclotheshaven’tfaredmuchbetter,and
mybreathcatchesinmythroattoseehertornknickers,castfromherchestofdrawersandsoiledinways
Idon’tevenwanttoconsider.

Ihearherfootstepsonthestairs,butI’mtoolatetostopher.Shewailsassheseesthecarnage.
Igrabforherasshelaunchesherselftowardsthebed,butI’mnotquickenough.Shedoesn’tevensee

thegrimyrubber,she’stoofocusedonwhat’sbeyond.

AndthenIseeit,too.Atatteredbear,stuffinghangingfromitsdismemberedlimbs.Shewrestleswith

herbedcoversuntilshefindsitshead,andshereallydoescrythen,holdingitsbrokenpiecestoherchest
assherocksbackandforth.

Icouldkillthefuckerswhodidthistoher.
SheflincheswhenIlayahandonhershoulder,andherwordsarebroken.Choked.
“It’sTed,”shesobs.“I’vehadhimsinceIwasababy…Ilovehim…”
“Shh,”Isay,andit’sthemostnaturalthingintheworldtopullherintomyarms.“I’llfixhim,Laine.”
Herdelicatearmswraparoundmywaist,andsheburiesherfaceagainstmyshirt.“Whydidtheydo

this?WhydidtheydothistoTed?”

“Becausethey’reassholeswhodon’thaveanythingbettertodowiththeirpoxylives.”

Hersnifflesaresosad.“I’m…I’msogladyou’rehere…thankyou…”
AndIknowthisisit.I’mdonefor.
Herwordsaremuffledagainstmychest.“Idon’tknowhowI’mgoingtotellMum…she’sgoingtobe

somad…”

“Youdon’tneedtoworryaboutthat,”Isay.Itakehercheeksandtiltherheaduptomine,andher

wateryeyesaresobeautiful.“Let’sgonow.”

“Gowhere?”
“Home,”Isaysimply.“Hometomine.”
“ButIcan’t…Ihavetostay…Ihavetofixthis…”
Ibrushhertearsawaywithmythumbs.
“Youdon’thavetofixanything,Laine,”Itellher.“Notanymore.”

AINE

HEART

HURTS

andIfeelsick.

“You’resokind…”
HetakesTedfrommyarmsandfindshismissingleg.Mypoor,poorTed.Hisbatteredbodybreaks

myheart.MyvoiceisallchokedupasIaskNickthequestion.

“Doyouthinkyoucansavehim?”
“I’llgiveitmyverybestshot,”hetellsme,andIbelievehim.Helooksaroundmybedroom.“There’s

nothingelseworthsaving,”hesays.“I’msorry,Laine,we’llhavetogetnew.”

“ButIdon’t…”Icoughtohidetheembarrassment.“Idon’thaveanymoney…notenough…noteven

ifIdidhavemypurse…”

“Youdon’tneedtoworryaboutthat.”
ButIam.Iamworriedaboutthat.He’sdonefartoomuchalready,andItellhimso.ItellhimIcan’t

takeanymorefromhim,thathehardlyevenknowsme,buthewaveshishand,won’thearanyofit.

“I’llcallalocksmithwhenwe’rebackathome,”hesays.“Somecleaners,too.They’llsalvage

anythingthatcanbesaved.”Herunsahanddownmychippedpaintwork.“Ithinkwe’llneedadecorator,
too.They’vedonearealnumberontheplace,vilelittlecunts.”

Igasp.Itshocksmesomuchtohearhimswearlikethat.
“Sorry,”hesayswhenheseesmyopenmouth.
ButIlikeit.Ilikethewayhesoundswhenhe’sangry.Hesoundssostrong…sofierce…
“Ijustcan’tbelievetherearepeoplelikethisoutthere,”hesnaps.“Low-lifescum.”
“Theydidn’tdoallofthis…”Iadmit.Ipointatthechippedpaint.“Thatwasalreadythere.”
“We’llgettheplacesprucedup,”hesays.“Ipromise.”
Ismile,sayyetanotherthankyou,andIeventrytosoundconvincing.
It’snotthatI’mnotgrateful,becauseIam.It’snotthatI’mnotawarehowluckyIamthatIranintothe

roadandintoNick’spath,becauseI’mvery,veryawareofthat.

It’sbecauseIknowthatwhenweleavethishouse,andallthetatteredbrokenthingsinhere,I’mnever

evergoingtowanttocomeback.

DIGS

outaboxfromthegarage.It’ssadthatonesingleboxisgoingtobemorethanenoughtocontain

theremnantsofmylife.

I’mrelievedtofindmycollegeworkintactabovemywardrobe.Ipackupmyfoldersandtextbooks,

andplaceTedontop,beingcarefulwithallhisfrayedpieces.

That’sjustabouteverythingIcansave.EverythingIwantto.
Everythingthatmatters.
Nickcarriesitouttothecar.HeloadsmymeaslypossessionsintothebackandsmilesasIslipinto

thepassengerseatandbucklemyselfin.Heclosesthefrontdoorandlocksit,andIwaitinthecarashe
callsattheneighboursoneitherside.

Hesaysnothingaboutwhattheytellhim,andI’venevermuchlikedtheneighboursanyway,soIdon’t

ask.

Idon’twanttoknowwhathappenedhere.Ialreadyknowenough.
“Istillthinkweshouldcallthepolice,”hesaysashereversesawayfromthehouse.
“Nopoint,”Ireply.“Theywon’tcareanyway.”
“Ofcoursethey’llcare,Laine.They’rethepolice.It’stheirjobtocare.”
“Andthisisadeadendstreet.There’salwayscrapgoingonaroundhere.They’llprobablythinkit

wasapartyIhadmyselfwhilemymumwasaway.Apartythatgotoutofhand,andnowI’mtryingto
covermytracksbeforeMumgetsback.”

“Theywon’tthinkthat.”
“Theywill,”Iinsist,andhedoesn’targue.Iguessheknowsittoo.
WeheadbacktowardsBrighton,andthefurtherawayfromNewhavenweget,themorerelievedI

feel.Heparksupatamulti-storeyinthemiddleoftown,andIlookathimcuriouslyashegesturesI
shouldfollowhim.

“Youneedthings,”heexplainsasweheadfortheexit.“Newclothes.Toiletries.Aphone.”
“ButI…”Igrasphiswristandhestops.“Ican’ttakeallthisfromyou.Ijustcan’t.”
Hesighs.“Laine,I’vemorethanenoughmoney.It’snicetohavesomeonetospenditon.”
IthinkofJane.IthinkaboutallthepeopleamanlikeNickshouldhaveinhislife.Awifemaybe.

Friends.Just…people.

It’sonthetipofmytonguetosayso,buthishandsareonmyshouldersbeforethewordsareout.
“Please,Laine.It’smypleasure.Allowmetoenjoyit.”
“Justafewbits…”Isay.“Justtotidemeover…andI’llpayyouback,Ipromise.”
“No,”hesays.“Youwon’t.”
Hetakesmyhand,andhisfingersaresolid.Hewalksquickly,andIhavetotaketwostepsforevery

oneofhis.Itmakesmefeelsoalive,toberushingalongatNick’sside.Iletthesensationwashoverme.

Heleadsmeintothefirstclothesshopwesee,oneofthelovelylittleboutiquesonthefront.

Everythinglooksexpensive,reallyexpensive,buthedoesn’tseemtocare.Heheadsforasectionatthe
back,withloadsofprettypastelcolours,andI’mpleased.It’swhereI’dhaveheadedmyself.

Ibaulkatthepricetags,tellhimit’salltoomuch,buthewon’thearanyofit.He’sgatheringup

clothesmorequicklythanIcanlookatthem,prettyshadesofpink,andbrightwhites,lovelypurplesand
tealsandpaleblues.He’schosenthesmallestsizeontherack,andhe’sright.

“Choosewhateveryouwant,Laine,”hesays.“Anythingyoulike.”
Buthe’salreadychoseneverythingIlike.Itellhimsoandhesmiles.
“Greatminds,”hesays,andheadsforthechangingrooms.Ifollowhim,alittlelambdancingalong

behindsuchapowerfulman.Everyoneislookingatus.Athim.

Thesalesassistantsarewhispering.Theybeamasheshowsthemthecollection,andthentheychivvy

mealongtoanemptycubicleattheback.

Hewaitsforme,andIfeelsoself-conscious,tryingonsuchbeautifulclothesunderharshlighting.My

skinlookspastyandpale,myeyeslooktiredandmyhairlookswispyandfine.Buttheclothes.Theylook

gorgeous.

Ishowhimatightpinkcamioverapairofwhitejeans,andhelikesthem.Hetellsmeso.
Itryfloatydressesovertights,andhelikesthosemore.Idoalittletwirlforhimandheclapshis

hands,smilesatme.

Hefetchesmeafluffywhitecardigananditfeelssosoftagainstmyskin.
HefetchesmeawinterdufflecoatthatmakesmegaspwhenIseetheprice.
Hefetchesmeascarf,andacutewinterhatwithapom-pom.Boots,too,andasparklypinkpairof

flatsthatmakemefeellikealittleprincess.

Andthenhemakesmetakeeverything,andIcan’t,Ireallycan’t.Itbringstearstomyeyes.
“Mypleasure,Laine.Mine,”hesays,andIhavenowordsforthat.Nothingotherthananotherthank

you,anditalwayssoundssolame.

I’mstillstaringattheitemsinthebasketwhenhepilesmorein.Nightdresses,andsocksandpacksof

knickers.Hehoversbythebras,andIrealisehe’swaitingformetotellhimmysize.Ifeelmycheeks
burnasIpickouttheverysmallestonetheydo.

“Idon’thave…much…uptop,”Isay,andtrytomakelightofit.
“Yousaythatlikeit’sabadthing.”
Ilaughalittle.“Isn’tit?”
“No,”hesays.“Itisn’t.You’reperfectthewayyouare,don’tyoudareeverthinkotherwise.”
Mytummyflutters.
HethinksI’mperfect.
AndIknowit’sprobablyjustafigureofspeech,knowhe’sprobablyjustbeingnice,sayingthingsto

makemefeelbetter,butIwishhewasn’t.

Iwishhemeantit.
Ipickoutsomebras,justplainwhitewithabitoflace.It’swhatIusuallywear,andIregretmy

decisionforamoment,worriedI’vemadeabadimpression,thatIshould’vechosensomethingmore
sexy,more…grownup.

“Anythingelseyouwant,Laine?Anythingatall?”
Ishakemyhead,manageasmile.“Ithinkyou’vejustaboutcoveredit.Somanythings…somany

beautifulthings…”

Heseemssopleased.
Ican’tbeartowatchashepays.Istareatmypumpsinstead,anywherebutatthetotalbalanceashe

handsoverhiscard.

Hecarriesthebags,andasksmeifweshouldcarryonshopping.He’sworried,hesays,worriedthat

Iwon’thaveenoughclothesforthetimebeing.

Hehasnoideathathe’salreadyboughtmemorethanIeverhadinmywardrobeathome.
Itellhimno,Itellhimthankyou,Itellhimthathe’salreadydonemoreformethanIcaneverrepay,

andhesettlesontoiletries,leadsmearoundthebeautyshopuntilI’veplacedeverythingIneedina
trolley.

Ihopehe’sforgottenaboutaphone,buthehasn’t.Ofcoursehehasn’t.
It’sthefirsttimeIreallydigmyheelsin.
“Please,”Isay.“It’stoomuch!”
“Youhavetohaveaphone,Laine,”heinsists.“HowwillIbeabletocontactyouotherwise?How

willIknowyou’resafe?”

IfI’msafe.
Ishrug.“I’llborrowKellyAnne’s,ifIneedto.”
“Wronganswer,”hesays,andmarchesmestraightinsidetheshop.
Thephonehechoosesisridiculouslysuperiortotheonestolenfromme.Itmakesmecrystupidtears

again,andIfeelsooverwhelmed,mybellyfullofthischurningsomething.Ican’tstraightenitout.

“Youcan’t…”Isay,andhetakesmyhand,squeezesittightuntilIlookathim.
“Doyoulikethephone,Laine?”
“Thephoneisamazing…”
“Thenit’syours,mytreat.”
“ButI…”
Hedoesn’tletgoofmyhand.“Laine,Iwantyoutolistentome,canyoudothat?”
Inod.Icouldlistentohimforever.
“Sometimesinlifeyouhavetoletpeopletakecareofyou.Sometimesyouhavetoacceptthatpeople

wanttohelp,wanttobethereforyou.NotpeoplelikeKellyAnne,whocareonlyforthemselvesand
theirownselfishpursuits,peoplewhowanttotreatyounicely.Youdeservetobetreatednicely,Laine.I
don’tthinkyoureallyknowwhatit’sliketobecaredfor,notproperly.”

“Mymum,she…”I’mreadywiththeexcusesagain,buthesilencesmewithasigh.
“Iwanttotakecareofyou,Laine.Willyouletme?”
Thosefluttersinmytummyagain.Idon’tknowwhattosay.Istareathimopen-mouthed.
“Ifthisisalltoomuch,ifyoureallydon’twantmetobethereforyou,youonlyhavetosay.I’llbook

youintoahotelwhiletheworkisbeingdoneonyourhouse.Youcantaketheclothes,andthetoiletries,
andthephone,andI’lldropyouthereandmakesureIkeepmydistance.Youwon’teverhavetoseeme
again,notifyoudon’twantto.Icanjustbethekindstrangerwhohelpedyouwhenyouneededafriend.If
that’swhatyouwant.”Hesqueezesmyhandagain.“Youonlyhavetosaytheword.”

Istare.Mute.Thisterriblepanicinmyheart,afeelingofdreadatthethoughtofhimdroppingmeata

hotelandwalkingaway.

“Laine?”heprompts,andIfindthewords.
“No!”Isay,andmycheeksareburning.“Please.That’snotwhatIwant.Iwanttostaywithyou.

You’rethebestthingthat’severhappenedtome.”

Islammymouthclosed,searingwithembarrassment,buthedoesn’tseemtocare.Hedoesn’tseemto

careatall.

“Phew,”hesays,andpretendstowipethesweatfromhisbrow.“Youhadmeworriedforasecond

there.”

Hiseyesarekindandbright,andIseehimafresh,alloveragain.Hereallyisperfect.Themost

perfectmanI’veevermet.

“Ihadtocheck,”hesays.“IhadtomakesureIwasn’trailroadingyouintosomethingyoudidn’t

want.”

“You’renot,”Itellhim,andIjustcomerightoutandsayit.“Ican’tbelievethisisreal.Ican’tbelieve

you’rereal.Thingslikethis…theydon’treallyhappen…notforme…”

“Oh,it’sreal,”hesays,andhiseyestwinkle.“Now,let’sgoandpayforthatphone.”
Idon’targuewithhimthistime.

CHAPTERSIX

ICK

PHONE

inLaine’slapaswedrivebacktomine,herfingerstracingtheedgesasthoughshe’strying

toconvinceherselfitsreal.Shekeepslookingmyway.Fleetinglittleglancesthatmeltmyheart.

“Haveyoulivedalonealongtime?”sheasksaswepullinthroughthegates.
Inod.“Awhile.”
“Doyougetlonely?”
“Notanymore.”ImeethereyesasIparkuponthegravel.
“Igetlonely,”shesays.“Gotlonely.”
“Yourmumgoesawayoften?”
“Allthetime.”
IaskherthequestionI’vebeenputtingoff.Theonethatdefiesallmysensibilities.
“Doyouhaveanyone,Laine?Aboyfriendorsomeonespecial…”
SheshakesherheadandIfeelastupidrushofrelief.
“Doyou?”
“No,”Isay.
Shenods.
Wetakeherbagsinfromthecar,andIcomebackfortheboxofheroldbelongings.
ThenewphoneisquicklyforgottenassheturnsherattentionbacktoTed.Shetriestopushhisstuffing

backintohisbrokenbody,andonceagainIfeelthestrangeweightofresponsibility.

Ilikeit.Ilikethatfeelingalot.
Idigoutaneedleandthreadfrommyutilitydrawer,andshehandshimoverwithoutquestionand

perchesherselfonthearmofthesofaasIgettowork.Hereyesdon’tstrayfrommyfingersasIattacha
tattyoldlegbackatthetear.Mystitchesaresmallandcareful,makingsureIlineuptheseamsjustso.

“Wow,youcansew,”shesays,andIfeelthegentlewashofreliefasmyworkholdsuptoscrutiny.

“Youreallycanfixhim,”shesays.“Iknewyouwould.Iknewit.”

Herfaithislikegoldenhoney.Hersmileisfromtheheart.
IfixTed’slegs,andhisarmsfolloweasilyenough.ItakeabreathbeforeIlineuphishead,andhis

glassyeyesstareupatmeasIstitchhimupsocarefully.

“Goodasnew,”IsayasIhandhimover.
“Betterthannew.”Shehugshimtight.“He’sverygrateful.”Shegiggles.“AndsoamI.”
Igatheruptheremnantsofcottonandsliptheneedlebackthroughthereel,andhereyesareonme.

Herexpressionisoneofreverence,anditthrillsme.Hersmileisadoring.

SheleansinbeforeIgettomyfeet,andhersoftlipstouchmycheek.
“Thankyou.”
Ifighttheurgetopullhercloseandholdher.Fighttheurgetofeelherlittlebodyagainstmine.
“You’reverywelcome,Laine.”Ipatthebear’shead.“AndsoisTed.”Igesturetothestairs.“Ithink

we’dbettergethimsettledintohisnewhome.He’shadalongday.”

“Home,”sherepeats,andit’sbarelymorethanabreath.“Ithinkhe’sgoingtolikeithere…”
Hersmileissobright.Themostbeautifulsmileintheworld.“…Ithinkwebothare.”

AINE

“Y

HAVE

CHOICE

,”hesaysaswegettothelanding,andthere’ssomethingheavyinhistone.Something

thatgivesmenervousflutters.“Aboutwhereyousleep.”

Myheartthumpsatthethoughtofsleepingwithhim.Inhisroom.Inhisbed.
Butthat’snotwhathemeans.
Ican’thelpbutfeelalittledisappointed.
“IthoughtJane’sroomwouldhelpyourelax,”hesays.“Butthereisanotherroomifyouwouldprefer.

Aguestroom.”

Heopensthedoorattheendofthelanding.
Isteponthroughandit’sniceinthere.Niceandairyandallcreamsandwhites.Niceandgrownup.
Andboring.
IgetahorriblelurchinmybellyatthethoughtofsayinggoodbyetoJane’sbeautifulroom.
“Andit’sachoice?”Iask.
Henods.
“Jane’sroom,”Isayquickly.“I’dliketostaythereplease.”
Hesmiles,andIseesomethingpassacrosshisfeatures.
IwonderifI’vemadethewrongcall.IfIshouldhavegoneforthegrownuproom.
Maybenowhe’llseemeasalittlegirlwhoneedslookingafter,andpartofmewantsthat.Partofme

wantstobehislittlegirl.

Butanotherpartdoesn’t.
Anotherpartwantsotherthings.Thingsthatmakemetingle.
Tingledownthere.
WecarrymythingsthroughtoJane’sroom,andheopensthewardrobe.It’sempty.
“Makeyourselfathome,”hesays.“Thisroomisyours,foraslongasyouwantit.”
IwonderagainaboutJane.Surelyshevisits?Howwillshefeeltoturnupathomeandfindsome

strangegirlinherbed?

Idon’twanttoask,andIdon’t,justsmileandstartunpackingmynewclothes,hangingthemupso

neatlyonthehangers.

HestayswhileIdoit,sitshimselfdownonthebedandplacesTedonmypillow.
“Mybedroomistheoneontheleft,”hesays.“Justnextdoor.”
“Justthroughthewall.”
“Yes.”
Ismileathim.“That’snicetoknow.”

Iplaceallmynewunderwearinthedrawer,andputmycollegebooksonthebookshelf,andtheroom

isbeginningtofeelalittlebitmorelikemine.

Iwanttostayhereallafternoon,forever,butNickhasotherplans.
HecooksdinnerwhileIsitatthetableandtellhimaboutmycollegestudies.Weeatatthedining

tableandhemakesmeeatallmycarrotslikeagoodgirl.

“Youneedyourvitamins,”hetellsme.
IhelphimloadupthedishwasherandIaskhimabouthisjob.
He’sanaccountant,apartnerinhisfirm.Hesayshe’salwayslikednumbers.Helikestheorderand

thecontrol.Likesthelogicofit.Likesbeingabletomakethingsaddup.

HetellsmeheworksMondaythroughFridayinanofficeintown,butthathe’llbeabletodropmeat

collegeandpickmeupagain.

ItellhimI’llbeabletowalk,thathishouseisn’ttoofarawayfromBrightonCollege,notreally,but

heinsists.

Igetthosetinglesagainatthethoughtofhimdroppingmeatthecollegegatesandgivingmeakiss

goodbye.

“I’llmakeyouapackedlunch,”hesays.“You’llhavetoletmeknowwhatyoulikeinyour

sandwiches.”

Nobody’severmademesandwichesbefore.
Itellhimsoandhelookssad.It’sthatpitythingagain,likeKellyAnne’smum,andIdon’tlikeit.I

don’twantamanlikeNicktopityme.IwanthimtoseeI’mawoman,aproperwoman,evenifIdon’t
wanttobeone.EvenifIwanttobethelittlegirlwhodrawshimDaDDypicturesandhasapackedlunch.

“Icanlookaftermyself,”Isay.“I’manadultnow.”
“Youdon’tneedtolookafteryourself.Notanymore,Laine.”
“Still,”Isay.“Ican.”
“I’msureyoucan.”
Buthedoesn’tlooksure.Hedoesn’tlooksureatall.
Hecheckshiswatchandstretcheshisarmsabovehishead.Hisshirtridesup,justenoughtoseethe

flatridgeofhisstomach,andIrememberhimintheshower.

Irememberhowgooditfelttowatchhimjerkingoff.
“Bedtime,”hesays.“Earlystartinthemorning.”
Hegetsmeaglassofwatertotakeupstairs,andIfollowuprightbehindhim.AllIcanthinkaboutis

thathardmuscleunderhisshirt,andhowitwouldfeelagainstmyskin.Howitwouldfeeltotouchhim.
Mycheekswarmatthethought.

Igraboneofmynewnightdressesandhegivesmeatowel.Iwashmyselfinthesameshowerhe

used,anditgivesmesucharushtoputmyfingersbetweenmylegsandrubmyselfinthesamespotI
watchedhimcome.

Itmakesmecometoo.Ashudderyonethatmakesmegaspandpressahandtothetilesforbalance.
Iwonderifhiscumhasbeenthere.Rightinthatspotwheremyfingersaretouching.
Iwashquicklyafterthat,wrapmyhairinatowelandsliponthenightdresswhilemyskinisstill

clammy.

Thefabriciswhiteanditclings.Icatchsightofmynipplesinthebathroommirror,thedarkcirclesso

obvious.Youcanseemyhair,too.Thehairbetweenmylegs.

AndIknowrightthenandthereexactlyhowmuchIlikeNickinthatway,becauseI’veneverwanted

anyonetoseemebefore,notlikethis.

Nobodyexcepthim.
Butitfeelsnaughtytowanttobeseenlikethis.
ImovesoslowlyasIstepoutofthebathroom,listeningforanysignofhim.Iholdmybreathand

closemyeyes,earsstrainingtohearmovement,andI’msoexcitedwhenIhearadoorhandle.

Igulpalittlebreathashestepsoutontothelanding,andhedoesn’tseemestraightaway,he’stoo

busyfasteninghisdressinggownbelt.

Henoticesmybarefeetfirst,andhiseyesmoveup,upandup,soveryslowly.SoslowlythatIfeela

heatrushfrommytoestomycheeks.

Heswallowswhenhisgazereachesthedarknessbetweenmylegs,andIfeelsoself-conscious,so

muchofastupidkid.

KellyAnnewouldcringeifshecouldseehowawkwardIam,butI’mdoingmybest.Ileanagainstthe

doorframeandpushmychestforwards,wishingIhadsomeactualbreaststoshowhim.

Icanbarelybringmyselftolookathim,butwhenIdoIcan’tlookawayagain.
Hiseyesaredarkandhisbreathisfast.There’sanedgetohimthatIhaven’tseenbefore,something

heavyandbrooding.Itmakesmytummytickle.

ForthetiniestsecondIbelievehewantsme.Wantsmelikethat,andmyheartjumps,jumpsandraces

away.

“Thanksforthenightdress,”Isay.“It’sreallynice.”
Hisvoicecomesoutraspy.“Itlooksbeautifulonyou,Laine.”
I’veneverwantedanythingasbadlyasIwanthimtotouchmerightnow.
“Youshouldgettobed,”hesays.“Getadecentnight’ssleep.”
Inodbutdon’tmove,andhecomescloser.
Icansmellhim.Richandmusky.
Aproperman.
Hebrushesbymeonhiswayintothebathroom,andmynipplescatchonhisrobe.
Itsendssparksallthewaydownbetweenmylegs,andIpressmythighstogether,stareupathimasI

gaspalittlebreath.

Hestayssostill,andsodoI.
Icanhearmyheartbeatinmyears,andIcanfeelhisbreathagainstmyforehead.
It’ssoeasytotipmyfaceuptohis,andIwantitsomuch.Iwanthimtokissmesomuch.
“Youneedtogettobed,”hesays,andhisvoiceisstrained.“Rightnow,Laine.”
Imeethiseyes,andIwantit.Iwantallofit.
Iwanthimtobemyfirst.
Iwanthimtobetheone.
Hiseyesarehoodedandhisjawistight,buthedoesn’tmove,doesn’tmoveamuscle.
“Please,Laine,”hesays,andthere’sadesperationtoit.“Pleasegotobed…likeagoodgirl.”
Likeagoodgirl.
Iwantthat,too.
IwanttobeagoodgirlforNick.
Hisfingersbrushmyarmanditmakesmetremble.
“Go,”hesaysandhisvoiceisseriousthistime.“Youneedtogo.”
ButIcan’tmoveaninch.

CHAPTERSEVEN

ICK

WANT

toshoutather.Iwanttolosemycoolandpushherawayfromme.Barkoutordersthatsheneeds

togetherselftobed,whereshebelongs,safeunderthecoversandawayfromthelessermaninsideme.
Themanwhowantstotearthatslipofanightdressfromthoseprettylittletitsanddevourherwhole.

She’sstaringupatme,thosedoeeyessowideandinnocent.Onlyshe’snotinnocent.Notrightnow.
It’sclearwhatlittleLaineisthinking,whatshe’swanting.
“I’mnota…”shebegins,andIclosemyeyes.“I’mnota…girl…I’meighteen,Nick…”
“AndI’mmuchtoooldforyou.Muchtooold.”
“But…butwhosaysso?”Hervoiceisquietandgentle.Hervoiceisperfect.
“Isayso,”Itellhersimplyandforcemyselftomeethereyes.“Itwouldn’tberight.”
Shenods,butshedoesn’tbelieveme.I’mnotevensureIbelievemyself.Becausehere,onthe

landing,withthisbeautifulcreaturestandingsoclose,withthosesweetlittlenipplespokingthrough
flimsyfabricandhertightlittlepussyjustbeggingtobetaken,itfeelsmorerightthanIdaretoadmit.

Shelookssohurt.It’sinthesagofhershoulders,theconfidenceofherstancefadingintonothing.It

onlymakesmewanthermore.

Herprettyeyesareglassy,andherpalelittlefingersarefidgeting,andIcanfeelher,theheatofher.
“IknowIlookyoung…andIknowIactit,too…whatwithTedandlikingstupidcerealsandnot

beingabletogetmyselfhomeatnight…butI’m…I’mnot…that’snotwhoIam…”

“Ilikeyouasyouare,Laine.IlikeyouwithTedandIlikeyoulikingstupidcerealsandneeding

someone.There’snothingwrongwithbeingvulnerable,there’snothingwrongwithneedinghelp.”

“Butthereis…”shewhispers.“BecauseIlikeyou…likethat.”
Imakemyselfsaytherightwords.Thesanewords.“You’vehadatraumaticexperience.It’seasyto

getconfused,Laine.Tobelieveyouwantsomethingthatmaybeyoudon’t.”

She’sshakingherheadbeforeI’vefinished.“I’venever…I’veneverwanted…notever.”Shetakesa

breath.“I’veneverlikedanyonelikethat.Likethis.”

Thelessermaninmewantstobelieveher.Thelessermaninmehasallthejustificationheneedsto

ravageherdelicatelittlebodyandmakehermine.

ButIdon’t.
“Youdon’tknowme,”Isay.
“Iknowenough…”
No.Noshedoesn’t.

Ishakemyhead,butshe’snotlistening.Herfingerscomeuptogripmyarms,asthoughhertouchhas

thepowertodefymywordsandIcatchthescentofher,thesoapsheusedtowash,mixedwiththatdivine
aromaofcrazyyounghormones.Ican’tdenytheeagertwitchbeneathmyrobe.

“Iseeyou,Nick.Iseehowmuchyoucareforme,howyou’vetakencareofme,howyourescuedme.

Youmakemefeelsafe,youmakemefeelwanted,youmakemefeel…”Hervoicedriesup.

“Makeyoufeelwhat..?”
Shetakesalittlebreath.
“…HowdoImakeyoufeel?”
Herfingerssqueeze,andshesmilesasadsmile,andmyheartishers.It’sbeenherssinceshestared

upatmeintherain.It’sbeenherssincesheblewoutherbirthdaycandle.

“Loved,”shewhispers.“Youmakemefeelloved.AndI’venever…hadthat…andIwantto…show

you…”

ShowyouhowgratefulIam.
Itakeherwrists,rubherknuckleswithmythumbsasIeasethemawayfromme.“Youdon’tneedto

usesexthatway,Laine.Lovecomesfreely,itneedsnoreward.Nevergiveyourselftosomeonebecause
youfeelyouowethemsomething.”

Shelookssohorrified.
“That’snotwhatImeant…Iwouldn’t…”Herliptremblesandit’sintoxicating.AndI’malmostat

breakingpoint,hoveringontheedgeofself-controlasmyfingersbrushtheridgeofhercollarbone.“This
isgoingsowrong…”

I’mabouttoslipthenightdressstrapfromherpaleshoulderasshesaysthewords.
“I’mavirgin,Nick.I’dneverusesextosaythankyou.Notever.”
Avirgin.
Ofcoursesheis.
I’mfreefalling.Losttothatprimalforcethatwantstotakeherinnocenceandbreakitandmakeher

mine.Myballstightenatthethought,cocktwitchingundermyrobe,mymouthwateringatthethoughtof
tastinghervirginpussy.

Hervoiceisbreaking.Barelymorethanawhisperasshebareshersoul.
“Iwant…wantedyoutobemyfirst…”
Thegirlissonaive.Naiveandsweetandinnocent.Totallyunawareofthebrutalurgesofmaleflesh.

Itmakesmewanthersomuchmore.

Iwatchmyfingersbackawayfromhernightdressstrap.Theymoveagainstthegrain,glidingupto

strokehercheek.

“Someonespecial,Laine,”Itellher.“Waitforthatsomeonereallyspecial.”
Twoglisteningtearstrackdownhercheeks,butshesmilesasadsmile.“I’msorry…I’veruined

everything…”

MyhandslipstothebackofherneckandIpullhertome,untilIcanfeelthesoftnessofherthrough

myrobe,thepressofherfacetomychest.

Iwonderifshe’splayingwithme.Iwonderifshe’sasirenfromthedeep,callingouttomewiththe

vulnerabilityinhersong,andI’llbedrowned,asalllustysailorsdrown.

ButIdon’tthinkso.Idon’tbelievelittleLaineSeabourneknowshowtoplaygames.
“I’msosorry,”shecries,andIcanfeelhervoiceagainstme.“Ithoughtyouwantedme…”
Shewon’tlookatme.
Ifshelookedatme,Iwouldn’tneedtosaythewordsthatsealmydoom.
Iwatchasmyhandtugsthetowelfromherheadandstrokesherhairsoftly.Andthewordscome,“I

dowantyou.”

Myvoiceislacedwithmorethanwant.It’slacedwithneed.

Theneedtoconsume.
Totake.
Toown.
Ifeelherstiffeninmyarms,andit’stoomuch.Isnakeanarmaroundherslenderwaistandpinherto

me,andmyfingerstraveldown,overthetightglobesofherass,andshe’sjustasperkyasIimagined.

Ihitchher,andit’sbeyonddoubtshereallyisavirgin,becauseshegaspsasshefeelstheridgeofmy

cockagainstherbelly.Icirclemyhips,andmyrobeworksitselflooseasshemoveswithme.

Thesensationofflimsysatinbetweenmystiffcockandhersoftbellyissuchbeautifultorture.
“Thisisn’taboutwant,”Ihiss.“It’saboutwhat’sright.”
She’sallbreathandwrigglingflesh,herflushedfacetippinguptomine.Shewrapsherarmsaround

myneckandpressestight,andherhipsmove,pinmycocktomystomach,wheremyballsacheandmy
dickwantstoshootitsloadalloverhernightdress.

AndthenIpushheraway.
Firmly.
“Nothere.”
There’ssomethinginmytoneIcan’tholdback,andshehearsit.Thenodofherheadtellsme

everything,hereyessoeagertoplease.

“Ineedtoshower,”Isay.
Shenodsagain.
“I’llgotobed…I’llbe…ifyouwant…”
Oh,howIfuckingwant.

AINE

LEGS

ARE

jitteryasIcrossthelandingtothesafetyofJane’sroom.

Shit.Shit,shitandtotalshit.
IwantnothingmorethantocallKellyAnneandtellheraboutmyepicseductionfail.She’dlaughand

tellmeI’mafool,andI’dhavetolaughtoo,eventhoughthethoughtofitisalreadyburningmeup,
confessingmyVstatusonhislandinglikesomekindofstupidimbecile.

Idon’tevenknowwhatcameoverme,andmaybethatmeanshe’sright,maybeit’ssomekindof

traumashitthat’sgotmeallworkedupandactingweird.

Maybethat’swhyI’mafreakenoughtowanthimtobemydaddyoneminute,andwanthimtobemy

loverthenext.

HowishesupposedtothinkI’mallgrownupnow,afterImadesuchanepicfailofthewholesorry

thing?

ButIknowthat’snottrue.BecauseIfelthim.Andhewashard,hardandbig.Bigenoughtomakeme

nervous.Bigenoughtomakeitfeelsoreal.

IturnJane’slittlelamponandlookdownatmybelly,andhe’sleftamark,nothingbutafaintlittle

smeartoshowwherehiscockpressedagainstme.Itmakesthetinglesbetweenmylegscomebackso
hard.

Iwanthim.
Reallywanthim.
I’veneverwantedtogivemyselftoanyonebefore,notlikeIwanttogivemyselftoNick.

IsitonJane’sbedandstareatthecrackinthedoorway,thedoorI’veleftslightlyopen.
IhearthewaterstartupinthebathroomasIslipbetweenJane’ssheetsandpullthemtomychin.It’s

sonaturalformythighstoeaseopen,soeasyformyfingerstoslipdownthereandrubatmyclituntilI’m
squirmingalloveragain,andIdon’tevencareanymore,don’tcarethatthisishislittlegirl’sroomand
he’stakingcareofme,Idon’tcarethatit’sdisrespectfulandstupidandnotwhatIshoulddo.

Idon’tcareaboutanyofthosethings,becauseIfelthim,andIknowhewantsme.Iknowhewantsme

likethat.Andit’sthemostamazingfeeling,tobewantedbyamanlikeNick.Arealman.

Aperfectman.
Iwonderifhe’sgoingtobejerkingoffinthereagain,andthethoughtgivesmefluttersofpanicthatI

won’tbeabletowatchhim.

Iwonderifhe’salreadyconvincinghimselfthathedoesn’twantmeafterallandI’mnothingbuta

dirtygirlwhoneedstogohome.

Inmyimagination,braveLaineleapsfromthebed,whipsoffhernightdressandstepsintothe

steamingshower,kneelsbeforehim,openshermouth.Iwonderwhathetasteslike.

Iwonderifhethinksthesameaboutme.
Noneofmywonderingstopsthedanceofmyfingersaroundmyclit,noneofitstopstheripplesthat

rockthroughmybodyasIgoovertheedgeandtwitchandmoanandstruggleforbreath.

NothingstopsthepoundingofmyheartasIrealisethewater’sstoppedinthebathroom.
Ifeelsosmallasheappearsinthedoorway,suchasillylittlethingasIhideunderJane’scovers,my

breathstillquickfromplayingwithmyself.Ihopehedoesn’tnotice.

Hishairisdamp,justlikeminefeelsonthepillowundermyhead,andhelookssonice.
Hisbeltisn’ttiedtightthistime,it’sloose,barelywrappedaroundhim.Hisrobeshowsaridgeof

hardchest.Ashadowofhair.Andmyheartisthuddingalloveragain.

IwishIcouldseetherestofhim.
Hemustknowthat,becauseIcan’tstoplooking.
“Weneedtotalk,”hesays.“Butnottonight.Tonightisaschoolnight.”
Inod,andIdon’tevenknowwhyI’mnodding.
“Weneedtosetsomegroundrules,Laine.”
Ikeepnodding.
“Weneedtoworkouthowthisisgoingtobe.”
Myheadkeepsonnodding,andI’msmilingalittletoo,becauseIthinkthatsoundsgood.Ithastobe

good,becausehe’snotfreakingoutalreadyandtellingmetoleave.

Ithastobegood,becausehisrobeishangingfurtheropenandhedoesn’tevencare.
Hedoesn’tcarethatIcanseehe’shardagain.
ThatIcanseehestillwantsme.
Icanhardlybreatheashestepsintotheroom.
Icanhearmyheartinmyearsashewalkstothesideofmybedandflicksoffthatlittlelight.
Myeyesstruggletoadjusttothedarkness,butthey’retoolatetoseehimsliphisdressinggowntothe

floor.Icanonlyheartherustleoffabricagainstskin.

Andthenthecoldairashepullsthecoversaside.
Thewarmthasheslidesinnexttome.
ThesadnessasIrealisehe’swearingunderwear,thatthehardnessofhimfeelssofaraway.
Hepullsmeclose,mybacktohischest,anditfeelssorighttowriggleintohim.
Hiskneescomeupandhitchmine,hisarmcreepsaroundmywaistandholdsmetight,andhisbreath

isonmyneck.ItticklesandmybreaststickletooandIwanthimtotouchmesobad.

“We’lltalk,”hesays.“Tomorrow.”
“Okay,”Isay,anditsoundssodorkyandpathetic.

“Groundrules,Laine.It’sallaboutthegroundrules.”
Inod.Again.
Feellikeastupidkid.Again.
He’ssobiginthisbed,sobignexttome.
Andthisstupidlittlekidfeelssafeatleast.
HowIwanthishandtomovefrommybelly.Upordown,Idon’tcarewhich.
Butitdoesn’tmove.Doesn’tmoveaninch.NotevenwhenIwriggleandsquirmandfeelhiscockstill

hardagainstmyass.

Mybodydoesn’tfeellikesuchastupidkidatall.Mybodyhasalifeofitsown.
Mybodyknowsexactlywhatitwantstodo.
ButNickwon’tgiveittome.
Hebreathesintomyhairandholdsmetight,andfinallyhekissesmyneckanditgivesmetingleson

topoftingles.

Ittakesmeagestocalmdownenoughtogotosleep.Hisbreathingisevenandpeaceful,hisbodyso

stillasIsquirm,andeventuallyIfeelthat,too.

I’mrightontheedgeofdreamsashewhispersgoodnight.
“Goodnight,Laine.”Likeit’sthemostnaturalthingintheworld.
Itfeelsnatural.
Right.
Thisfeelsright.
Andthewordsthatcomenextfeeltoorighttobewrong.
“Goodnight,Daddy.”
Iholdmybreath,scaredhe’sgoingtopullaway,readywiththestupidapologiesandtheexcusesthat

I’mhalf-asleepanddon’tknowwhatI’msaying.

Buthedoesn’t.
Hedoesn’tpullaway.
Ifeelhiscockagainstmyassalloveragain.
Buthedoesn’tsayaword.

CHAPTEREIGHT

AINE

WAKE

uponmyown,andmyheartdoesalittlejump.Aflipofpanicatthethoughthe’sleftme,thathe

doesn’twantmeinthecoldlightofday.

Islipoutofbedandgrabmydressinggown,myfeetquickonthestairsasImakemywaydown,and

thereheis,inthekitchen,andhe’scooking.

He’salreadydressed,andhelooksevenmoreperfectinhissuitthismorning.Hishairisslickand

styled,andsodarkthatwaythatyoucanbarelyseethegreyathistemples.Hisshirtiscrispandwhite,
andhe’ssocarefulashefriesupeggs.

“Morningsleepyhead,”hesays,andhe’ssmiling.Hissmilemakesmytummyflutter.“Iwasjustabout

towakeyou.Food’sup.”

Heflipstheeggsontoaplate,andgrabssometoastfromthetoaster.Bacon,too.Ismellbacon.
It’sthebestsmellintheworldonaMondaymorning.
Itakeaseatwithasmile,sayyetanotherthankyou,andmyfingersbrushhisasItakemyplatefrom

him.Ifeelitallthewayupmyarms.

“Areyouallsetforcollege?”heasks.“Anythingelseyouneed?”
Hetakesaseatopposite,tucksrightintohiseggslikeIdidn’tjustcallhimDaddylastnight.Likehe

didn’tsleepinmybedwithhisbig,hardcockagainstmyass.

“I’mallset,”Isay.
“Good.”Hiseyesaresodarkonmine.“Ithinkweshouldmakeastartonthosegroundrules.”
Rules.
Icanhandlerules.
Inod.“Ok.”
“I’llbedroppingyouatcollegeandpickingyouupattheendoftheday.Ifthereareanyproblems,

youcallme.Ifyou’regoingtobelate,youcallme.Ifyouneedanything,youcallme.”

Inod.“Sure.”
“Weeatdinnertogethereveryevening.Youdoyourcollegeworkhere.Ifyouneedhelpwithit,you

askme.”

“Ok.”
Hiseyesdon’tleavemine.“Doyouhaveanyobligations,Laine?Anyjobs?Friends?Clubsyouneed

toattend?”

Ishakemyhead.“Justbabysitting.Casually.Mostweekends.”Ipause.“AndKellyAnne.SometimesI

hangoutwithher.”

“There’snomoreneedforbabysitting,Laine.You’llhaveanallowance.It’sbetteryouconcentrateon

yourstudying.”

IfeellikeIshouldargue,tellhimhe’sdonetoomuchalready,butthere’ssomethingdifferentabout

himthismorning.Somethingso…authoritative.

Idon’twanttoarguewithhim,soIdon’t.
AndIlikethatIdon’t.
Ilikehowitfeelstohaverules.
Tohavesomeonewhocaresthewayhedoes.
“Ok,”Isay,andhesmiles.
“Goodgirl.”Hetipshishead.“Howareyoureggs?”
I’vebarelynoticedthem.“Perfect,”Isay,andit’strue.They’rejustright.Justtherightamountof

runny.

Idipmytoastinandtheysuretastegreat.
EverythingisgreataroundNick.
Heslidesmyphoneacrossthetable.“I’vesavedmynumberinyourcontacts.You’reonanunlimited

plan.”

“Thankyou.”
“I’llcallyou,atlunchtime.Justtocheckinonyou.”
Ican’tstopmygoofysmile.“Thankyou.”
“There’llbeotherrules,”hetellsme.“Buttheyaren’tfornow.”
Inod.“Ok.”
Ok.Everythingreallydoesfeelok.
Betterthanok.
Ifeelallthewordsinmythroat.Wordsaboutlastnight,abouthowgooditfelttohavehimbesideme.

AbouthowmuchIlikehim,howgratefulIam,howhe’sthebestthingever,andIreallymeanit.

Buttheydon’tcomeout.
Ijustsmile,likeanidiot,andeatmybreakfast.
HetakesmyplatewhenI’mdoneandloadsitintothedishwasherwithhis.
“Getready,”hesays.“Weleaveinfifteenminutes.Wecan’tbelate,Laine.I’mneverlate.”Hefastens

uphiscufflinksandslipsonhissuitjacketfromahangeronthedoor,andI’mstaring,gawpinglikeasilly
fool,untilheraisesaneyebrow.“Chop-chop,”hesays,buthiseyesaresparkling.“Youdon’twanttotry
mypatience,sweetthing.”

Idon’ttryhispatience,notevenabit.Butthere’saweirdflutterbetweenmylegsatthethought.

ICK

CRADLES

herlunchboxinherlap,lookingatitasthoughshe’sneverhadonebefore.Maybeshehasn’t.

Itpleasesmetoseehersotakenabackbysimplegestures.It’soneofthethingsIlovethemostabout

Laine,thewayeverythingisawonder,everythingissuchagift.

SpoilingLaineSeabournebringsmegreatpleasure.
DiscipliningLaineSeabournewilleasilybringmeequalpleasure.
ButIdon’tletmyselfconsiderthat.Notyet.

Notbeforewe’veworkedoutthegroundrules.
Ipullupatthecollegeandshelookssohesitant.
“Allset?”Iask,andshenods.“I’llcallyouatlunch.”
Shenodsagain,butshedoesn’tmove.“Thankyou,fortheride.”
“Mypleasure,”Itellher,andherlittlefingersgripthedoorcatchbeforeshechangeshermindand

leansinmydirection.

Herlipsbrushmycheekforjustamoment,butIfeelthecontactrightthewaythroughtomydick.
“Seeyoulater,Nick.”
Nick.
Thatwillhavetochange.
Allingoodtime.
Iwatchherleave,hercollegebagthrownoverhershoulder,hertinyframewrappeduptightinher

newcoat.She’sstillholdingherlunchasshemakesherwaytotheentrance,anditfillsmewithasense
ofsatisfactionI’vebeenmissingforfartoolong.

Itfeelssogoodtohavesomeonetotakecareof.Someonetocarefor.
Someonetolove.
I’mabouttopullawaywhenIseeagirlboundupthestepsandgrabholdofLaine’selbow.Thegirl

hasamassofdarkcurls,afacefullofmakeup,andIknow,instinctively,thatthismustbeKellyAnne.
Laine’suseless,selfishnon-friend.

IseeLaineshrug,andKellyAnneislookinginmydirection.Sheseesthecarandsayssomething,and

Laineshrugsagainbeforeshecarriesonwalking.

Iwaituntilthey’reoutofsightbeforeIdriveaway.
Ithinkit’stimeKellyAnnewasaddedtothegroundrules.
Imakeamentalnoteofthatforlater.

AINE

“S

?Whatthehell,Laine?Who’stheMercedesguy?”
KellyAnnewon’tletup,andit’sannoying.Itmakesmefeelawkwardanduneasy,likeshe’spokingat

somethingtooprivatetobeshared.

“That’sNick,”Itellher,likemyanswerstandsahopeinhellofcuttingit.“Theguywhorescuedme.”
“Nick,”shesays.“Andwhat’sthedealwithNick?”
“He’slookingafterme.”Itrytooutpaceherbutshe’shavingnoneofit.
“Lookingafteryouhow?”
“I’mstayingwithhim…whilemyhousegetssorted…youknow,thehouseyougavethekeyawayto,

thehousethatgottotallyinvadedbyaloadofdeadbeatsfromashittyclubwhileIwasstrandedinthe
rain.”

Shelookssohorrified,andI’mglad.
Inodmyhead.“Yeah,Kels,thathouse.”
“Jeez,Laine,I’msorry.MumsawMrsBarnesfromdownyourstreetyesterday,saidyourhousegot

allfuckedup.I’matotalfuckingass.”

Idon’treplyintheaffirmative,eventhoughIprobablyshould.“Nick’slettingmestayathis.He

sortedmeoutwithsomeclothes.Broughtmetocollege.”

ShestaresatthelunchboxI’mstillclutchingtomychest.“Madeyousandwiches…”
“Yeah,mademesandwiches.”
Shetugsatmyelbow,butIdon’tletherseeinsidethebox.“Don’tyouthinkthat’salittle…”
“Alittlewhat?”
Shepullsastrangeexpression.“Idunno,alittlecreepy?Somerandomguyrescuesyou,buysyou

dressesandpacksyoualunchbox.That’sabitcreepy,no?”

Ishrug.“He’snotcreepy.He’sreallynice.”
“Hecouldbeaserialkiller.TedBundywasareallyniceguy,youknow.”
Ilaugh.“You’vebeenwatchingtoomuchCSI.”
“Yeah,andyou’rereallysweet.Toosweet.Liketakeadvantageofsweet.”
She’dbetheonetoknow.IfonlyIwasbitchenoughtopointthatout.
“Imaynotbeworldlywiselikeyou,butI’mnotstupid.He’saniceguy.Ilikehim.”
AndIguessIsaylikehimwithalittletoomuchconviction,becausehereyeswidenandshegivesme

thatlook.Theinterrogationlook.

“Youlikehim?!Likereallylikehim?Likewanthisdicklikehim?”
Isigh,backmyselfintothewalltoletsomepeoplepass.“Yeah,Ilikehim.Ilikehimlikethat.”And

nowI’vesaiditIfeelitalloveragain.Theticklesandtheflutters.Thatfeelingofburningup.The
memoryofhisbodyagainstmine.

KellyAnne’smouthisopen,andshelookssoshocked.ThemostshockedI’veeverseenherlook.
“Buthe’s…he’s…”
“He’swhat?”
Shestrugglesforwords,whichistotallyunlikeher.“He’slike…old.Likeanoldguy.”
“He’snotanoldguy.”Ilaugh,anditsoundssohigh-pitched.“He’sforty-two,that’snotold.”
“Mydad’sfortynextsummer,Laine.Forty.Andhe’sanoldguy.”Shesighs.“ThisNickguy’sold

enoughtobeyourdad,Laine.Isn’tthatweird?”Shescrewsherfaceup.“Gross.”

Thethoughtmakesmyheartpound,asthoughshe’llknow.KnowthedirtythoughtsIwanttokeepall

tomyself.

“Ihaven’treallythoughtaboutitlikethat,”Ilie.“Ijustlikehim.”
“Anddoeshelikeyou?”Hereyesarerightonmine,andIcan’tlie.Idon’tknowwheretolook.“Has

he…triedanything?”

Ishakemyhead.“No…itwasn’thim…itwas…”
“Itwaswhat?”
Ifeelmycheeksburning,andIputmyfingerovermylipsuntilanothercrowdofstudentspassusby.

“Itwasme…”Iwhisper.“I…Itriedsomething…”

Thegrinspreadsrightacrossherface.“Youtriedsomething?!Forreal?”
Inod.“Yeah,anditwasstupid,alright?Imadeafoolofmyself.”
She’stryingnottolaugh,Icantell.“I’msureyoudidn’t…”
“Yes,”Isay.“Itotallydid.”
“Andwhatdidhedo?”she’ssmilingsobright.
“He…hetoldmeIdidn’thavetosaythankyouthatway.”
“Andyoudon’t,Laine.Usingsexforthatistotallyskanky.”
Idon’teventryandworkoutwhereKellyAnne’srulesonskankysit.Inherworldit’soktoputit

abouttoanyonewholookshotafteracoupleoftequilas,butclearlynottoexpressgratitudethatway.It’s
oktoditchafriendtogorunningafterapieceofrandomdick,butnotoktofancysomeoneoldenoughto
beyourdad.

“Well,hedidn’ttakeit.”
“I’llbethewantedto,though.”Shenudgesmeinthearm.“Hemustlikeyou,Laine.Cutelittleblonde

thinglikeyou.Ibethe’sjerkingofftothethoughteveryfiveminutes.Dirtyoldman.”Herlaughcutsright
throughme.“Seriously,though,”shesays,“youshouldcomestaywithme,notsomerandomoldguy.”

Thethoughtfillsmewithdread.“I’mgood,”Itellher.“IlikeitwithNick.”
“DaddyNick,makingyousandwichesandbuyingyoudresses.Verycute.”
DaddyNick.Thethoughthasmeburningup,andmyheartkeepspoundingandmymouthisalldry.
Ibarelyregisterthefactshe’sstilltalking.
“So,wheredoyousleep?Inhisroom?Pleasetellmeit’snotinhisroom…”
Ishakemyhead.“Inhisdaughter’sroom.”Ifocusonasafertopic,tellheraboutJane’slovelythings,

andthewritingonherwall,andhowgreatitfeelsthere.

KellyAnnedoesn’tlookimpressed,atall.HereyesscrewupandshelooksatmelikeI’msomekind

ofcrazy.

“You’restayinginhiskiddaughter’sroom?Withpinkcurtainsandamadhatterteaset?”
Ishakemyhead.“It’snothiskiddaughter’sroomnow.She’sallgrownup.Shedoesn’tlivethere

anymore.”

Kellytipsherheadtotheside,andshe’sthinking.Itmakesmefeeluneasy,andI’mgladclassis

startingsoon.

“So…ifshe’snothiskiddaughter…thenshe’sanadultnow,right?”
Inod.“Yeah,Iguessso.Probablymovedaway.”
“So…ifshe’sgrownup…whyisherroomstilllikesomekiddieshrine?Imean,where’sallher

teenageshit?Surelyshe’dhavelikeBackstreetBoyspostersup,orsomeothercraplikethat.Maybe
somemakeup…somegrown-upkidshit…”

“Maybeshelikeditthatway…thewayitwas…”Myanswerislame,andit’sbecauseIdon’thave

one.BecauseIhaven’teventhoughtaboutit.

Haven’tthoughtaboutthefactJane’sroomisstilllikeshe’sfiveorsixyearsold,eventhoughshe

doesn’tlivethereanymore,hasn’tlivedthereforalongtime.

“Maybeshelivedwithhermother…”Iponderaloud.“Maybeshedidn’tliveinthere…notallthe

time…”

“Still,”KellyAnnesays.“She’dstillhavesomegrown-upshit,Laine.Imean,whowantsafairy

castlewhenthey’reathighschool?”

Me,Ithink,butIdaren’tsayit.
“I’llaskhim,”Itellher.“AboutJane.I’msuremaybethere’sanotherroomshehadorsomething.Or

maybeshedidn’tlivethere…”

KellyAnnepullsaspookyface,wagglesherfingerslikeaghost.“Ormaybeshedidn’texist…

oooooooh…maybehe’sliketheguyfromPsychoandyou’llfindhisdeadmotherinhiscellar…”

Thatthoughtreallydoesmakemelaugh.“You’reanidiot,”Itellher.“Youreallyhavebeenwatching

toomuchCSI.”

Ibrushpasthertomakemywaytoclass,andshefollows,shrugsatme.“Tellmethatwhenyou

realisehe’ssomefreakypervertandyou’rerunningbarefoottomyhouseashechasesyouwithhis
imaginarydaughter’sdildoorsomething.”

“You’regross,”Itellher,butI’mgrinning.
“No,”shesays.“You’regross.I’mnotthedirtylittlebitchwithacreepydaddyfetish.”
IlaughatherwordsbutI’mnotreallysurewhatshemeans.Imean,shedoesn’tknowNick.Doesn’t

knowhowhesavedme,howhecaresforme.Doesn’tknowhowsafeIfeelwhenI’mwithhim.

“He’dmakeareallygooddaddy,”Isay.
Sherollshereyesatme.“TellhimthatwhilehetakesyourVcard,Laine.That’llreallygethimoff.

Dirtyoldpervert.”

Idon’treply.Ican’treply.Inmymind,I’msittingonhislap,myarmsaroundhisneckashe…

“Laine?”
Isnapbacktoreality,andtheheatinmyfacebetraysme.
“I’mworriedaboutyou,”shesays.
ButI’mnotworriedatall.

CHAPTERNINE

ICK

“M

ORNING

,MrLynch.”

AseaofthesameoldMondaymorninggreetings.Ismilemyusualsmile,askafterpeople’s

weekends,andtheirkids,andtheirSaturdaynightsatthekaraoke.Imakemywaythroughtomyoffice
withmyusualtake-outcoffeeandcheckmyemailsjustlikeanyotherregularworkmorning.Butit’s
differentthismorning.Ifeelsodifferentthismorning.

Janestaresoutatmefromthesameoldpicturefromthecornerofmydesk,grinninginthearmsofher

motherastheystareupatthecamera.Stareatme.Itouchtheframe,aregularritual,onlythistimemy
heartdoesn’tpanginquitethesameway.

It’stheloneliness.Ormorespecificallythelackofit.
AbeautifulsenseofreliefwashesovermeasIdiscardmyregularworkroutineandcallmysecretary

through.

Pennylooksgreatthismorning.Anewblouse,Ithink.Shesmilesandscribblesdownnoteswithout

evenahintofsurpriseasIinstructhertocallinacleaningteamtoLaine’sproperty.Itellhertheyneedto
beabletohandlehazardouswaste,completeathoroughjobfromtoptobottom.Decorators,Itellher.
We’llneeddecoratorswhenthey’redone.

Neutralcolours.Maybesomefreshcurtainstomatch.Yes,curtainstomatch.
Newflooring,too.Theplacewillneednewflooring.
Andalocksmith,tobesafe.
IknowI’mstilllyingtomyself.StillmaintainingtheillusionthatI’lleverwanttoseeLainemove

backintothatplace.It’sapretencethatirksme,eventhethought,butthegirlneedstoknowshe’singood
hands,stronghands,handsthatcansaveherfromanyoflife’sunfortunatesituations.

Andthere’shermothertothinkabout.Ifyoucancallthewomanamotherinanythingotherthanthe

biologicalcontext.

Anythingelse?Pennyasks,andhersmilecatchesmyeyeasherpenhoverssoeagerlyaboveher

notepad.Inoticethesimplelittlependantaroundherneck,sparkinginthelight.Inoticetheperfectpastel
pinkofhernewblouseandthesubtletyofhermakeup.

“Yes,”Isay.“I’dlikeyoutochoosemesomejewellery.Asagiftforsomeone.Somethingtasteful.”I

pause.“Somethingyou’dlike,Penny.Somethingreallyspecial.Itrustyourjudgement.”

Thecomplimentlightsuphereyes.
“Surething,MrLynch,”shesays.“Doyouhaveabudgetinmind?”

Ishakemyhead.“Somethingyou’dchooseforyourself,Penny.Budgetissecondary.”
Shenods,dithersonthespotalittle.Icantellshe’spluckingupthecouragetopry,andIdon’tgive

heranycues,juststareatherwithaprofessionalsmileonmyface.

“Isshe,um…”shefinallybegins.
“Isshe..?”
“Afriend?”sheasks.“Arelative?”
“Both,”Itellher.“She’ssomeonespecial.”
Shenods.“Howold?”sheasks,thenchecksherself.“SoIknowwhatstyletogofor,Imean.”
“Eighteen.Just.”
ShelooksatmeasIsayjust,andIknowshe’swondering.
Shedoesn’taskanymorequestions,butIcansaywithcertaintythatmyextra-curricularbusinesswill

bethetalkofthephotocopierthismorning.

Thatwouldusuallybotherme,butnottoday.
Thereisn’tonesinglethingthatwillbothermetoday.
Icallupmyofficecalendarandmarkmyselfasunavailablefromfourp.m.fromthisafternoon.
SweetlittleLaineneedstogethomesafelyfromcollege.
Andafterall,it’sauniversaltruth.Atruththateveryonewhoisluckilyenoughtoknowitisblessed

by.

AtruththatI’mblessedwithforthefirsttimeinyears.
Familycomesfirst.
Inthemeantimeit’sbusinessasusual.
IaskPennytobringinmyninea.m.client.

AINE

ICK

CALLS

LUNCH

.Itfeelssostrangetohearhimonthephone.Hisvoiceiswarmanddeep,but

there’sacurtnesstoit.WorkNick.

Iimaginehimthere,partnerinsomeswankyaccountancyfirm.Solidhandshakesandrichclients.I

wonderifhehasasecretary.Iwonderifhehasabigteamofpeoplehangingontoeverywordhesays.He
isthebossafterall.Oroneofthem,atleast.

Nickseemslikeaboss.He’dmakeagoodboss.
Justlikehe’dmakeagooddaddy.
Andagoodlover.
Igetthosecrazyfluttersagain,butterfliesinmytummyasItellhimI’mhavinganiceday,andmy

sandwicheswerelovely.Hamandcheese.Poshham,reallythickcut.NotthewaterystuffIbuyfor
myself.Itellhimmyclasseswentwell.ThatI’vebeenworkinghard.

Hesoundssopleased,anditmakesmesmile.WhenIhangupI’mgrinningsohardIbarelynotice

KellyAnnegawpingatme.

“Newphone,”shesays,likeitisn’tobvious.“Quiteagift.”
“I’mjustborrowingit,”Itellher,andthat’showIseeit,too.
Shedoesn’tsayanything,justgivesmethatlook.Thatgrossed-outlook.ButIdon’tcare.
ImeetNickinthecarparkathalfpastfour,justwhereheleftme.IseepeoplestaringathisMercedes

anditmakesmefeelstrange,tobecaredforbysomeonewhowearsatailoredsuit,drivesanexpensive

carandbuysthick-slicedham.

I’veneverhadmoneybefore.Mumneverevenhadacar.Notthatitmattered.
Idoubtshe’dhavedrivenmeanywhereifshehad.
Nicktellsmehe’shadagooddayattheoffice.Manymeetings,hesays,justanaverageMonday.I

wishIknewwhatanaverageMondaywaslikeforhim.IwishIkneweverythingabouthim,butthe
questionsinmyheadallsoundstupid,andIreallydon’twanttosoundstupid.

“Whatareyouthinking?”heasks,andthere’sthatkindsmileonhisfaceagain.He’sinterested.Iknow

he’sreallyinterested,andthatfeelsnice.

Ishrug.“Iwasjustwondering…aboutyou…”
Helaughs,andit’salovelysound.“Whatareyouwondering?”
“Idunno,juststuff.”Hissmilemakesmesmile.“Ijust…don’tknowanything…”
“Aboutme?”Hestopsattrafficlightsandhishandreachesovertosqueezemine.“You’llgettoknow

everything,Laine.Justgiveittime.”

Everything.Ilikethatthought.
“Askmeaquestion,”hesays.“Whateveryoulike.”
SoIdo.Ijustaskhim.
“Won’tJanemindmesleepinginherroom?”
“No,”hesays.“Shewon’t.”
Ilookathim,buthe’sstaringahead.Thelightsturngreenandhedriveson.
“Willyoutellheraboutme?ThatI’mstaying,Imean.”
“No,”hesays,andhissmileisallgone.
IwishI’dneverasked.Ishould’vepickedanotherquestion,somethingabouttheofficeorhishouseor

hiscar.Istareoutthewindow,andtherouteisalreadybecomingfamiliar.Theroadsgetquieterand
there’sthebigtreeIknowmeanswe’refiveminutesfromhome.

“I’lltellyouaboutJane,”hesays.“Ifthat’swhatyouwant.”
KellyAnne’sstupidparanoidspeculationsmakemenervous,andI’mnotsosureIdowanttohear

aboutJane.

Ifeelhiseyesonmeforamoment.“MaybetalkingaboutJanewillhelpyouunderstandtheground

rules.”

“Itwill?”
Hetipshishead.“Maybe.”
Idon’tsayanythinguntilhepullsthroughthegatesandtakesusupthedriveway.Igrabmycollege

bagfromthebackseat,andhegrabshisbriefcase,andwe’rehomeagain.Home.

Heputsthekettleonandpoursmeaglassofjuice,andIwonderifI’veevertoldhimIdon’tlikehot

drinksallthatmuch.Heseemstoknow.

Isitatthetableandwatchhimmakehistea,justwaiting.Hiseyesaresoserious.
“Groundrules,”hesays,andIgetastrangeticklebetweenmylegs.
HesitsoppositemeandIwatchhishandsaroundhismug.They’resobig.Sostrong.
“Whatarethey?”Iask.“Therules,Imean.”
“Iwanttoknowyou’resafe,Laine,always.I’llneedyoutocheckinoften.Idon’twantyoutaking

ridesinpeople’scars,Idon’twantyouheadinganywhereyoudon’tknow.Accidentshappenthatway,”
hesays.“Whenpeoplearecareless.”

“Careless,”Irepeat.“Idon’ttakeridesinmanycars,Nick.”Ismile.“Idon’thavethatmanypeople

thatoffer.”

“Aprettyyounggirllikeyouwouldhaveplentyofpeopleofferingtogiveyouaride,Laine.Maybe

youjustdon’tseeit.”

“Idon’t.”Ilaugh.“I’veneverseenit.KellyAnneisthepopularone.”

“KellyAnneisreckless,”hesays.“Recklessandfoolish,andselfishontop.You’retoogoodforher,

Laine.I’dpreferitifyoudidn’tletherdragyouintoanymoresituations.”

Inod.“I’mnotplanningonit.”
“Goodgirl,”hesays.
Imeethiseyes,riskasmile.“Isthatit?Thegroundrules?ThatIdon’ttakeridesinstrangepeople’s

carsanddon’thangoutinclubswithKellyAnne?”

“No,”hetellsme.“It’smuchwiderthanthat.”
Thattickleagain.It’ssomethinginhistone.Somethingso…strong.
“Iwanttotakecareofyou,”hesays,andIcan’tstopthatfeelingbetweenmylegs.Itmakesmythighs

clenchtogether.“Iwanttolookafteryou.Idon’tthinkanyone’severlookedafteryou,Laine.Iwanttobe
thefirst.”

Thefirst.
Iwanthimtobemyfirst.Ineveryway.
“Ican,um…takecareofmyself…”Ioffer.“Youdon’tneedto…”
“Iwantto,”hesays.“Itgivesmegreatpleasure.”
AndIdon’tknowwhatthisis.Idon’tknowwhatweare,andIdon’twanttoask,andIdowantto

ask.

Idoask,butitcomesoutmessy.
“Youmean,like,aum.Youmeanlikea…aguardian…orsomethinglikethat?”
HiseyesburnmeandIcan’tlookaway.“Sayit,Laine.Saywhatyoumean.”
Mycheeksburn.“Likea,um.Likeadad?”
“Isthatwhatyouwant?”
Yes.
Iknowthat’swhatIwant.
ButI’mallickyagain.Allscrewedupinsideatthethoughtofwantinghimlikethat.Wantinghimthe

waythatmakesmeallticklybetweenmylegs.

“What?”heasks.“Tellmewhatyouwant.”
Itakeasipofjuiceandit’shardtoswallow.
“Youcantellme,Laine.Youcantellmeanything.Wetalk,abouteverything.That’sanotherofthe

groundrules.”

Inod,forcedownanothersipofjuice.
“Thisisastrangesituation,”hesays.“Forbothofus.Iwasdriving,justdriving,andthereyouwere,

lostintherain,needingsomeone.JustlikeIneededsomeone.”Hedrinkssometeabuthiseyesarestillon
me.“SometimesIthinklifehasthiswayofputtingpeopletogetherinthemostunlikelyofcircumstances.”

“Likefate?”
Hesmiles.“Iliketothinkofitassynchronicity.”
“Ibelieveinfate,”Itellhim.“Ibelieveinhoroscopes,too.Ireadmineeveryday.”
“Maybeyoushouldreadmine,”hesays,andthere’shumourinit.“I’dlovetoknowwhatfatehasin

storeforus,Laine.Ithinkit’sgoodthings.”

“Metoo,”Isay,andImeanit.
“So,”heprompts.“Whatisitthatyouwant?”
Ishrug,gesturearoundme,tothebeautifulroominhisbeautifulhouse.“This,”Itellhim.“This

everything.It’s…it’slikeafairytale.”

“Beautyandthebeast?”Helaughs.
“No!”Ilaughwithhim.“Cinderella!I’mthescrubbyservantgirlandyou’rePrinceCharmingcometo

saveme.”

Hiseyesglitter.“I’mnotallthatcharming,”hesays.“Notwhenyougettoknowme.”

ButIdon’tbelievehim.Itellhimsoandhelaughsagain.
“Maybethiscouldbeafairytale,Laine,”hesays.“Ifwewantitbadlyenough.Lifeisfullofmagic,I

think,youjusthavetotrustinit.”

“Ibelieveinmagic,”Isay.“Ihaven’tseenmuchofit,notuntilnow,butIknowit’soutthere.”
“Maybeit’srighthere.”
Myheartdaren’tevenhope.Ifeelitlurch,anditscaresmehowmuchIwantthis.Itscaresmehow

hardI’mfalling,fallingrightintohim,fallingrightintohislife.

“Ihopeso.”Myvoiceisawhisper.
HeholdsoutahandandItakeitacrossthetable,andhisfingersgripminesotightly.
“Letmecareforyou,Laine.Willyoudothat?”
Inod.“I’dlikethat.Verymuch.”
“Andyou’llsticktothegroundrules?Letmekeepyousafe?”
“I’llsticktothegroundrules,”Isay.
“Goodgirl.”Hissmilegivesmetinglesontingles,andmyheartraces.
Itakeabreath,stareatmyhandinhis.“Andthat’swhatyouwant?Youwanttotakecareofme?Like

I’m…”

“Likeyou’remylittlegirl?”
Mycheeksmustbelikebeetroot.IclosemyeyesasInod.
“Andwhatelsedoyouwant,Laine?Whatdidyouwantonthelandinglastnight?Whatdidyouwant

inbedlastnightasyouwriggledandsquirmed?”

Ican’topenmyeyes.Ijustcan’t.
“You,”Iwhisper.“Iwantedyou.”
“Isthatstillwhatyouwant?Notoutofgratitude,orbecauseyouthinkyoushould.Noneofthatis

necessary,Laine,Ipromiseyou.”

Ishakemyhead.“No…notbecauseofthat…”Myheartisinmythroat.“Justbecause…becauseI

wantit…becauseIlikeyou…”

IholdmybreathasIwaitforhimtoanswer,buthisresponseshocksmeenoughtoopenmyeyes.
“IneedtotellyouaboutJane,”hesays.
“AboutJane?”
“Myrulescanget…intense.Ineedyoutounderstandwhy.”
Inod,andmyeyesarewideandfocused.I’mpleasedthathedoesn’tletgoofmyhand.
“Janewasmylittlegirl,”hesays.
Was.
“IwasyoungwhenImethermother.Louisawaslost,justlikeyouwere.Ifoundhershelteringunder

anawningduringanautumnthunderstorm,upsetbecauseshe’darguedwithherpieceofshitboyfriend.
Janewasjustababy,fastasleepinherpushchair,nonethewiserforhermother’spredicament,thank
God.”

“Soshewasn’t…”
“Mine?”hesays.“Notbiologically,no.Butshewasmineineverywaythatmatters.Iwasthemanshe

calleddaddy.Iwasthemanwhoreadherbedtimestoriesandtuckedherupinbedatnight.”

Myeyesurgehimtocontinue.
“Iwasyoungmyself,relatively.Stillclimbingupthecorporateladder,copingwithmyfather’sdeath.

Thiswasourfamilyhome,Iinheriteditnaturally,anditwaslonelyherebeforeLouisacame,justasit
wasbeforeyoucame.”

“Didyoubringherhome,too?”
Hesmiles.“Idid,yes.IbroughtherandlittleJanehomewithme,andmadeLouisecocoawhileshe

driedoff.Ilistenedtoherstoriesaboutherloserboyfriendandhersadlife,andhowshewassoscared

fortinylittleJane.”

“Yourescuedher.Yourescuedbothofthem.”
“Yes.Yes,Idid.Butsherescuedmerightback.Savedmefromalifefullofnothingbutworkand

loneliness.”

Itakeabreath.“Shedidn’tgrowuphere,didshe?Jane,Imean.”
“Shedidn’tgrowup,Laine.”Hetakesabreath.“Shediedwhenshewasfive.Acaraccident.Herand

hermotheralongsidethatsorrysackofshitItookherfrom.”Iseehiseyesdarken.“Sheleftmeanote
beforeshewent.Hewantedtotalk,shesaid,neededsomehelp,shesaid.Shedidn’twanthim,butfor
somecrazyreasonthatdayshetookourlittlegirlandclimbedintohiscar.Maybeshedidn’trealisehe’d
beendrinking.”

Ifeelthebloodleavemyface.“I’msosorry.”
“Ishould’vebeenhere,”hesays.“Iwasworkinglate.Stupidclientmeeting.”
“Butyoucouldn’thaveknown…”
“Ididn’tkeepthemsafe,”hetellsme,andIfeelthepainfromhim.Iseeitinhiseyes,inthehunchof

hisshoulders,inthetightnessinhisvoice.Inhiseverything.

Isqueezehishandrightback,ashardasIcan.“I’llfollowthegroundrules,”Itellhim.“I’llstaysafe,

Ipromise.”Ifeelsosad.Sosadforthatlittlegirlwiththeprettypinkroom.SosadforNick,too.The
wholethingfeelssosadIcanhardlydrawbreath.

“Ijustneedyoutobesafe,Laine.Ireallyneedyoutofollowtherules.”
Inod.“Iwill.Crossmyheart.”
Hesmilessuchasadsmile.“I’llloveyou,Laine,ifyou’llletme.Hellknows,everyoneneeds

someonetolovethem.”

Myhearthurts.
Myheartknowsthatfeeling.
Ifeelmyeyeswellup,andthetearsspill,lettingthesadnessinmyhearttipallthewayover.“I’ll

loveyou,too,Nick.I’msosorryaboutyourlittlegirl.”

HerunshisthumbovermyknucklesandforthatmomentI’msureIseehiseyesarewaterytoo.
Andthenhemoves,takesabreathandgetstohisfeet,andhe’sin-controlNickagain.
“Chickenfordinner,”hetellsme.“Ihopeyoulikechicken.”
Itellhimchickensoundsreallygood.

CHAPTERTEN

ICK

AINE

TRIES

tosmileasthougheverythingisA-okasIpreparedinner,butshe’sthinkingaboutJane.

It’saphenomenonI’mfamiliarwith,oncepeoplefindoutaboutsuchaloss.Onethathaslongsince

foundmeavoidingalmostallmentionsofmylittlegirl’sname.Itmakespeoplefeelawkward.Pity,
sympathy…it’safinelinebetweenthetwo.

Idon’twanteither.
“It’sok.Youcantalkabouther,”IsayasIpeelthecarrots.
Shespinsheremptyjuiceclassonthetabletop.“Ijust…Ican’timaginethepain…”
“Hopefullyyouwon’teverhaveto.”Thepeelerworkssomethodically.Iliftmyeyesfromthe

growingpileofcarrotsticks.“Itwasalongtimeago.”

“Still,”shesays.“It’ssohorrible…itmust’vebeen…”
“Bad,”Isay.“Itwasbad.”
Ihopethatwillsuffice.Ihavenodesiretodredgeupthelongnightsofmisery,orthecountlesshours

oftherapy,ortheemptinessJaneandLouisa’spassingleftinmylife.

“I’msosorry,”shetellsme,andIbelieveher.Thoseblueeyesglassyandmelancholic,thesadness

writtenalloverherprettyface.“Isthatwhyyourescuedme?BecauseofLouisa?”

“No,”Isay.“Irescuedyoubecauseofyou.”
Shenods.“I’msogladyoudid.”
“SoamI.”
Shesmilesandit’sbothsadandbreath-taking.“Whatdidshelooklike?”sheasks.“Jane,Imean.”
Ihesitateforjustamoment,longenoughtofinishupacarrotanddigmywalletfrommysuitjacket.I

flipitopenandpulloutthelittlepicture.Jane’ssweetlittlegrin,herblondepigtails.Sohappy.Shelooks
soblissfullyhappyonthatphoto.

Lainetakesitfrommewithdaintyfingers.
“Shewassopretty.Suchabeautifullittlegirl.”
“Yes,shewas,”Isay.“Atinyblondeangel.”Ipause,staringatLainestaringatJane.“Likeyou.”She

handsmethephotoandIslipitbackinsidemywallet.“Louisawasblonde,too.”

“AmImuchlikeher?”
There’ssomethinginhertone—ahintofbreathlessness,andthatawkwardnesssheconveyssowell.

Hersweetself-consciousnessisaddictive.

IknowshemustbeasconfusedasIam,spirallingaroundthesamedilemma,justtryingtoridethe

currents.

Loverorlittlegirl.
LouisaorJane.
Ifeelherbrainticking.Iseeitinhereyes,justasIfeelitbehindmine.
“Youremindmeofhersometimes.Justafleetingmemoryhereandthere.”Iresumemypeeling.“But

youhaveaninnocenceLouisadidn’t.”

“KellyAnnesaysI’maprude,shesaysI’mabigbaby.Innocenceisdumbstupid,shesays.”
“It’sabeautifulthing,”Itellher.“Veryendearing.”
Shesmiles.“Itis?”
“Very.”AndthenIknowit’stimetolayitontheline.“Louisawouldn’tletmetakecareofher,notin

thewaysheneeded.NotinthewayIshould’ve.”

Lainestaresatme.“Shewouldn’t?”
Ishakemyhead.“Ishould’vesetthegroundrulesearlier.Itwould’vekepthersafe.”Ilaughasad

laugh.“Should’ve,could’ve.Didn’t.”

“Shedidn’tletyou?”
“Louisawasreckless,rightfromthebeginning.Rebellious.Addictedtothehighsofherearlierlife,

evenifshedespisedthelows.She’dsaynot,butitwasinhersoul,thatsenseofdevilment.”

“Rebellious,”sherepeats,thenletsoutalittlelaugh.“Thenwe’rereallynotsosimilaratall.Ibarely

evencrosstheroadwithoutagreenlight.NotunlessKellyAnneisinvolved.”

“KellyAnneneedssomeonetoshowherafirmhand,Laine.Teachthegirltobealotmore

considerateofothers.She’llgetherselfintotroubleoneday.”Ipause.“Onlynowshewon’tbedragging
youintotrouble’spathalongwithher.Iwon’tallowit.”

Iwaitforareaction,foranysignofbacklash,butnonecomes.
“Thanks,”shesays.“Forcaring.It’snice.”
Ismile.“Seeifyoustillthinkthatwhenyoubreakoneofthegroundrules.”
Herexpressiondoesn’tchange,andI’msuretheimplicationhassailedoverherhead.“Iwon’tbreak

them.”Shegrins.“I’llbegood.”

“That’smygirl.”Ifinishuppeelingthecarrots.“Youmaywellfindmealittleoverprotectiveintime,

Laine,butit’llbeforyourowngood.”

“Iknow,”shesays.“Itrustyou.”
Atleastoneofusdoes.
Istartontheparsnips.

AINE

ICK

CAN

COOK

.Butthatfigures.

Nickcandoeverything.
Ieatupmychickenandvegetables,andit’salljustperfect,justthewayIlikeit.Ineverwanttogo

backtomicrowavemealsandpastaagain.

Ineverwanttogobacktoanyofit.
MyheartfeelstenderatthethoughtofpoorlittleJane.Ahorriblesickness,asthoughit’stoobiga

paintounderstand.AndIsupposeitis.

Theysayit’stheworstpainonearth,losingachild,andmyheartwantstoreachoutandholdNick

tightandneverlethimgo.

Ijustdon’tunderstandwhyLouisawouldn’twantNicktokeephersafe.It’sallIwant.
That’salie.
Iwantmuchmorethanthat.
Iwanteverything.Justlikeshehad.Onlymore.Iwantallofit,everybitofhislove,andhiscare,and

hisgroundrules.

I’llgivehimallofmyheartrightback.
Ieatupeverybitoffoodonmyplateandthankhimformymeal.Hetellsmeit’snicetohave

someonetocookfor.

ItellhimI’llcookforhimoneday.ItellhimIcanmakeameanmacaronicheese.Hetellsmethat’ll

benice.

SomehowIdon’tthinkI’llbecookingforNickanytimesoon,butthat’sok.
It’ssoeasytofloataroundinmyhappylittlebubblearoundhim.Soeasytobecaredfor.Soeasyto

feelyoungandsillyandsmall.

Soeasytofeelloved.
“Areyouok?”heasks.“Youseemsomeplaceelse.”
“Justthinking.”
“Pennyforthem?”
IwanttotellhimthatIlovethesaltandpepperathistemples,thestrengthinhisjawline.Iwantto

tellhimthatIlovehisgentlesmileandthewayhefeltinbedlastnight.

Idon’t.
“Ifeelfloaty.Likethisisadream.”
“Metoo,”hesays.“It’ssuchapleasuretofindthatlifestillhasmagicinit.It’sbeenawhile.”
“Itfeelslikefate,doesn’tit?”
Helaughs.“Yes,Laine.Itdoes.Maybeyou’llhavetoreadthosehoroscopes.”
Iclearupthedinnerplatesbeforehecanstopme,andloadthemintothedishwasherashewatches.

I’mputtingthecutleryintothetrayashestepsupbehindme,andhisarmssnakearoundmywaistashe
talksmethroughthewashersettings.

Fullcycle,halfcycle,quickrinse.
ItellhimI’vegotit,andpressittostart.
Ifeelapangoflossashestepsaway.
Hegrabshisbriefcaseandsetsouthislaptoponthetable.“Doyouhavehomework?I’vesome

reportstofinishupifyouwanttoworkalongsideme.”

Idon’thaveanythingoutstanding,buttellhimIdo.Igatherupmytextbooksandsetmyselfup

oppositehim,thenreadovermynotesfromclass,makingmyselfouttobethediligentlittlestudent.It’s
notthatfarout.Aswat,KellyAnnecallsme.

Ilistentohisfingersonthekeyboard,takingcareonlytoriskfleetingglancesinhisdirectionashe

concentrates.Hisbrowisfirm.Serious.ThismustbeworkNick.ProfessionalNick.

Iscribbledownnotesalongsidemynotes,andittakesmeamomenttorealisehe’sstaringatme.
“Youhavelovelyhandwriting,”hecomments.“Veryneat.”
Mycheeksburnwithalovelywarmfeeling.“Thanks.”
Hereachesintohisinsidepocketandpullsoutapen.“Trythisone.Ifinditwriteswell.”
He’sright,asalways.Thepenglidesacrossthepaperlikeadream,glintinginthelightlikeasilver

bullet.Iswirlmyletters,makingthemjustso,hopinghe’llcommentagainwhenhesurprisesmewith
curveball.

“I’mtoooldforyou,”hesaysquietly.
Myheartpounds.Mythroatdryandcrackly.“OrI’mtooyoungforyou.That’swhatyoureallymean,

isn’tit?”

“No,”hesays.“Itisn’t.I’mthinkingofyou,notme.”Hesighs,andIhatethesound.“Isaidweneeded

totalkabouthowthingsaregoingtobe,andI’vebeenthinking,Laine,I’vebeenthinkingalot.I’vebeen
thinkinghere,lookingatyourightnow,lookingatthesweetgirlwiththeprettyhandwritingandthe
beautifulsmileandwonderingwhetherIcanmakehermine.WonderingwhetherIcouldbesoselfish.”

Ican’tbringmyselftolookathim,soIturnthepenoverandoverinmyhands.“You’rethebestthing

that’severhappenedtome.You’retheonlyoneIwant.Howcanthatbeselfish?”

“You’reyoung,”hesays,andhisvoiceissocalm.“You’rebeautiful,Laine.Kindandcharmingand

gracious.You’llmeetsomeoneyourownage,someoneexciting,someonewho’llknockyouoffyourfeet.”
Hispauseseemstotakeforever.“I’llstillbehere.Stillbetakingcareofyou,foraslongasyouneedit,
andevenwhenyoudon’t.”

Ihavetosummonupthecouragetospeak,forcingmycrackledwordsoutthroughmydrythroat.“You

exciteme.Youknockmeoffmyfeet.Ican’tevenbreathesometimes…becauseIwant…Iwant…”

“Laine…”hebegins,butIshakemyhead.
“IwatchedyouintheshowerandIlikedit.Andlastnight,onthelanding…whenyou…”
“WhenIlostcontrol…”
“Itfeltamazing.”Itakeabreath.“Please,Nick.Pleasedon’tstopthis.Lastnight…Iwantthat…I

wantmoreofthat…”

Hestaresatme.“You’veneverbeenwithamanbefore,Laine,Howdoyouknowyou’reready?”
Ilaugh,buthedoesn’t.“I’mdefinitelyready.I’mtheoldestvirginIknow.Aregularspinster.”
“You’venevercomeclose,notwithanyone?”
Ishakemyhead.“There’sneverbeenanyoneworthgettingcloseto.Justidiots.Normallydrunkidiots

atthat.TheKellyAnneeffect.”

“You’vegotagoodheadonyourshouldersforsuchasweetlittlething,Laine.”
“ImightnotbecoolandstreetwiselikeKellyis,butIknowwhatIwant,Nick.Iknowwhat’sright,

andwhat’snotright.Iknowwhat’sdumb,andwhat’ssafeandhowtogetthroughlifewithoutgettinginto
toomuchtrouble.”MywordsstallasIrememberhimgrabbingholdofmeintherain.“Well…usually…
thatnightwas…”

“Dangerous,”hesays.“Itwasdangerous.”
“Ishould’vebeenmorecareful.”Itrytokeepmyvoicefirm,trytosoundsomuchmoreincontrol

thanIfeel.“I’musuallymorecareful.IguesswithMumaway,KellyAnnewastheonly…Iwantedto
havefun…”

“Itwasyoureighteenth.Ifthere’sanightforrecklessnessIimagineyoureighteenthbirthdayisgoing

tofeatureprettyhighlyonthelist.”Hesighs.“Itwasn’tyourfault,Laine.”

“Evenso,”Isay.“Iwaslucky.”
“No,”hetellsme,andreachesacrossthetable.Idrophislovelypenandtakehishand,andthose

butterfliesstarttheirfluttering.“Iwaslucky.”

“Fate,”Iwhisper.“Likewesaid.”
“Andwhatdoyouthinkfatehasinstoreforus,Laine?”Hiseyesaresofierce.Darkliketreacleas

theystareintomine.

“Everything.”Myvoiceislight,likeair.“Ithinkfatewantsustobeeverything.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
Tense.It’ssotense.Hiseyessoseriousandhisjawsohard.Icanfeelhimthinking,feelhimteetering

ontheedge,andIwanttopullhimover,pullhimtome.

Please.Please,please,please.
I’veneverwantedanythingsobad.

Hesqueezesmyhand.“We’lltakeitslow,”hesays.“Youcanchangeyourmindatanytime,butbe

sure.Besureyouwantthisbeforewe’rebothintoodeeptogetout.”

“Youmeanwecan…you’llbemy…”
“Everything,”hesays.“Ifthat’swhatyouwant.”
Ican’tstopsmiling.“Iwantthat.Iwanteverything.Iwon’tchangemymind.Notever.”
IworryI’veoversteppedtheline,buthesmilesbackandmyheartsoars.
“Thiscan’thaveanyimpactonthegroundrules,Laine.Howwearetogether,itdoesn’tmakeany

difference,you’llstillbeinmycare.”

“Itwon’tmakeadifference,Ipromise.Idon’twantitto,Ilikethegroundrules.”
Hiseyessparkle,andhelookssostrongagain.There’sthatsomethingprimalunderneathhiscool,and

I’mthereonthelandingagain,inbedwithhishardnessagainstmyassagain…

Hepullshishandfrommineandcloseshislaptop.
“Inthatcase,Ithinkit’sbedtime,”hesays.“Let’sstartstartingslowly.”

CHAPTERELEVEN

AINE

FEET

ARE

bouncyasIfollowNickupstairs.Heflashesaglancebackatme,andhiseyesarefierce,

withasexykindofdarknessthatmakesmefeellikeaclumsykid.

Iamawoman,Itellmyselfso.I’meighteenafterall.Totallyreadyforthis.Totallyreadyforhim.
Ifonlythebutterflieswhirlingroundmytummywouldbelieveme.
Hegesturesmeonaheadatthelanding,andIheadforJane’sroombeforeitoccurstomethatmaybe

hewon’twantto…notinthere…buthedoesn’tsayaword,justfollowsmeinandclosesthedoor
behindus.

Andthenhestands.
Staring.
Watching.
“What?”Igiggle.
“I’mlookingatyou,”hesays,andmylaughterdriesup.“Ilovelookingatyou,Laine.”
Heexaminesme,upanddown,takingineverysinglegawkypartofme,andItrynottoworryabout

mylittlebreasts,ortheweird-shapedbirthmarkonmythigh,ormybonyknees.Itrynottoworryabout
whetherI’llbegoodenough.“You’resoverybeautiful.Youhavenoidea.”

“KellyAnnesaysI’mnotsexy.ShesaysI’mcute,likeadoll,butnotsexy.Idon’treallydosexy,

though…”Iadmit,andI’mrambling.Nerves.

“I’msickofhearingwhatthatidiotKellyAnnesays,”hesays,andmyeyeswiden.“You’resexyand

you’recute.You’reeverythingshe’dwanttobeifshewasn’tputtingitouttoanyonewho’llhaveherafter
afewtequilas.”

I’msoawareofmyself.SoawareoftheskinnyjeansNickboughtme,andmybabypinkcamiand

fluffycardigan.SoawarethatIdon’tlookdressedforthis,despitehiscomplimentsandthewarmththey
givemeinside.“ShouldI,um…change?Intosomethingmore…”Ibegin,butheshakeshishead.

“No.You’reperfectjustasyouare.”
Perfect.
Iwanttofeelperfect.
Iwanttobeperfect…forhim.
“Ireallydon’tknowwhatI’mdoing…”Itakeabreath.“IhopeI’mnotrubbish…Ihopeyou’re

not…”

“Shh,”hesays,andmyheartleapsashemovestowardsme.

He’ssotall,toweringabovemeasheclosesthedistance.Icansmellhim.Woodyanddeep.Ilovethe

wayhesmells.

Hetipshisfaceuptomineandmybreathcomesinshallowlittlegulps.
“Relax,”hewhispers,andhisheaddipsenoughthathisbreathticklesmyear.Hishandsslidetomy

shouldersandsqueeze,anditfeelssoright.

Ifeelthefirmnessofhischestthroughhisshirt.Thewarmthofhisfingersastheyslipinsidemy

cardiganandpushitfrommyshoulders.Ifeelitcrumplearoundmyfeet.

“Mybeautifulgirl…”hewhispers,andthehuskinhistonemakesmylegsgoquivery.
Hisbreathisawarmrhythm,hislipspressingtomyskin,anditmakesmeshiverwonderfulshivers.I

wrapmyarmsaroundhisneck,thefinehairspricklingashekissessolightlyalongmyjawline.

Hepullsaway,thenpauses,eyesonmine,andIfidget,wetmylips,shufflefromfoottofoot.
Hiseyesstayfirm,rightontarget.Mybreathissoshallowandhisissosteady.
Hemovesslowly.Lowershisheadslowly.
Andthenhismouthlandsrightonmine.
Theworldstopsmoving.Forthatmoment.Stops.
Onelongperfectmoment.
Andthebutterfliesgocrazy.
Hiskissisfirm.Stronglikehim.Lipswarmandsoft.
Histonguepushesinsidemymouth,andheletsoutagroan,andIlovethat.Ilovethewayitsounds.I

lovethewayhistonguefeels,too.Hotandjusttherightamountofwet.Ilovethewayitmovesaround
mine,thewayhepushessodeep.Ikisshim,likeIthinkIshould,mytonguetwistingwithhis,myeyes
closedtightasItakeitallin.I’mmakinglittlenoises,andmyfingerstangleinhishair,andthat’ssofttoo.

Hedoesn’tstopkissingmeasheholdsmetightandwalksmebackwards.Myanklecatchesononeof

Jane’sstuffedtoys,andIstumble,buthe’sgotme.Heholdsmesteady,guidesmebackastepatatime
untilIfeelJane’sbedagainstmylegs,andthenhebreaksthekiss.Pullsawaywithsoftpressesofhislips
tomine.

Iopenmyeyesandhe’ssmiling.Mylipsfeelpuffyandtingly,andmycheeksburnhotasIsmileback

athim.

Herunshisfingersthroughmyhair,andIgaspashepullstight.Hetipsmyheadup,andI’mstaring,

staringathowstronghelooks,howdifferenthelooks.

“You’resuchagoodgirl,Laine,”hetellsme,andmyheartliftsforhim.“I’mgoingtotakecareof

you.That’swhatyouwant,isn’tit?”

Inod,andthewaymyhairpullsinhisfistcatchesmybreath.
“Youwanttobemygoodgirl,don’tyou?”
There’ssomethinginthewayhesaysit.Somethingthatmakesmefeelfloaty.
“Yes.”Inodagain,andhepullsmyhairtighter.
“Afirmhand,Laine.That’swhatyouneed,isn’tit?Someonetolookafteryou.Someonetowatchout

foryou.Someonetoloveyouandnurtureyou.”

“Yes…yesIdo,”Itellhim,andthatmakestheticklescomeharder.
“Don’tbescared,”hesays,andthere’sthattone.Thatcaringtone.“There’snoneedtobescared.No

needtobenervous.”

Heletsgoofmyhair,andonceagainhisfingersglidetomyshouldersandsqueeze.Ifeelthetension

slippingawayfromme.Histouchmakesmefeelsowanted,soloved.

Itakeabreathashishandsmovedown.Slowly.Hisfingershookinsidemycamiandtugitdown,and

mystomachchurnsinside.

Ifeelsoself-consciousinmyplainbra,whiteanddullwithjustalittletrimoflace.IwishI’dhave

pickedsomethingmoreraunchy,somethingmore…anything,butthelookinhiseyestellsmehedoesn’t

care.Hedoesn’tcareonebit.

Thelookinhiseyestellsmehelikesit.
Histhumbsbrushmynipplesthroughthefabric,andIcan’thelpbutgasp;itfeelssogoodIhaveto

clenchmythighs.Henotices,andhissmileissobrightandsodarkatthesametime.

“That’sit,”hewhispers,andhisthumbsstrokebackandforth,tinylittlemovementsthatsendslittle

sparklesallthewaydowntomyclit.Mynipplesarehard,histhumbscatching,andIgaspagainwhenhe
stops.Ireallydon’twanthimtostop.

Heliftsmytopupandovermyhead.Myhairswishesasthefabricpullsfree,andIfeelsoexposed,

standingbeforehimwithmylittlenipplespokingoutthroughmybra.

Hishandsaresohotonmybarestomach,skintinglingashisfingerssweepupmyribs.Ifindmyself

leaningback,rollingmyshoulderstoshowmoreofmyselfthanisreallythere,buthishandscupmylittle
breasts,andnothingcanhidehowsmalltheyare.Hethumbsagain.Backandforthagain.I’mclenching
mythighsagain,withquietlittlegaspscomingoutwithmybreaths.

“Beautiful,”hewhispers,andhishandssnaketomyback.Aflashofnervesasheunhookstheclasp,

andmybrafallsfree.Hedropsittothefloor,andIlookdownatmyselfashestares.Mynipplesarehard
littlepeaks.Theylooksopinkagainstmypaleskin.

“Youhavesuchbeautifulbreasts,Laine.Beautiful.”
Ilovethewayhesoundsso…mature.
Incontrol.Hesoundssoincontrol.
“Thanks,”Isay,andI’mbitingmylipasherollsmylittletitsinhisfingers,squeezingfleshthatis

barelythere,tuggingatnipplesthatsendcrazysparksrightthroughme.

Hegroans,andit’ssohornyIcanfeelitinmypussy.“Suchprettylittletits,Laine.Sweetlittle

nipples,sopink.They’reperfect.Iknewthey’dbeperfect.”

ImakealittlesqueakthatIhopesoundsgrateful.
“Look,”hesays,andIdo.Istaredownathimplayingwithmynipples,andhishandsseemsobig,his

fingerssostrongastheypinchandpluckandflickatme.“Divine,”hesays.“You’resimplydivine,little
Laine.”

HetugsatthemagainandmyclitsparkssocrazilythatIthinkIcouldcome.Righthere,rightnow,

stillinmyjeanswithnothingbuthishandsonmytits.Myclit’sflutteringsohardI’mclenchingmythighs,
overandover,rockingmyhipstopressmyselfagainstthedenimseam.

“Goodgirl,”hesays.“Tellmethatfeelsgood.”
Inod.“Itfeelsreallygood.”
HepresseshiskneetomythighsandIgaspashemakesmepartthem.Hehitchesmeontohim,his

thighhotandfirmbetweenmine,andhishandgripsmyass,encouragesmetogrindmyselfashisother
handpressestomyribs,coaxesmetoarchmyback.

Unsteady.Ifeelunsteady.Butitfeelstoogoodtocare.
IrubmyselfagainstNick’sthighasmylittletitsstandproudforhim.Hisbreathisinmyface,hotand

steadyashepressesmynippleandcircles,anditfeelssogoodI’mnotnervousanymore.Imoanashe
twistsandpinches,andI’maskingformore,askingforharder,andIdon’tevenknowwhatIwant,Ijust
wantmore.

Hehitchesmetighteragainsthim,andIfeelhim.Feelhishardnessagainstmybelly.Irubmyself

faster,pressingmyselftight,hopinghelikesthewayitfeels,hopinghefeelshornylikeIdo.Andhemust,
becausehisbreathinggetsfaster,andhisfingersgetrougher,squeezingatmytituntilIsuckinbreath.

“Yes…”Igripathisshouldersforleverage.“Please…”
“That’smygoodgirl,”hegrowls.“Mysweetlittlehornygirl.”
Ican’tstop.Rubbingmyselfagainsthimsofast.Thedenimofmyjeansstrainingandtheridgeofhis

dickfeelingsobigagainstmytummy.

“I’mgonna…”Ibegin,butIcan’tfinish.Idon’tthinkIcansayit.“IthinkI’mgonna…”
“Come,”hesays.“Comeformelikeagoodgirl,Laine.Comeforme!”
AndIdo.
Myclitdoesthatflutterythingthatmakesmegaspinbreath,andI’mclenchingandmakinglittle

noisesandrubbingsohard.

I’mhumpingNick’sleglikeI’monheat,andhewantsit.Ifeelhisdicktensing,pressingsohard.
Hepinchesmynipples,oneaftertheotherandIsquealformore,andthenatremorrunsthroughme.
Ishudderandsqueakandrubandcryout,andI’veneverorgasmedlikethis.Neversohard.
Hegroans,andhishandisclammyagainstmyback,hisbreathhotagainstmyfaceasIslumpagainst

him,tryingtogathermybreath.Tryingtogathermyscatteredthoughts.

“Goodgirl,”herasps,andIloveit.Iloveitwhenhecallsmethat.
MyheartisracingsofastIstartgiggling.
“Thatwasamazing,”Itellhim.“Thankyou.Wow,just…wow.”
I’msmilingasImeethiseyes,andhisarestillburning,stillfierce.
“Thatwasbarelythebeginning,sweetLaine,”hesays,andhisfingersreachforthebuttononmy

jeans.

CHAPTERTWELVE

ICK

Mybeautifulgirl’seyesassowideasIunbuttonherjeans.Hercheeksflushedandherbreathshortas

Ipulldownthezipperandslidethedenimdownherlegs.

Herknickersareperfect.Plainwhitecotton,understatedandinnocent.She’sperfect.
Shestepsoutofthejeanssogracefully,andshestillhashersockson,fluffyandpinkandcuteenough

tomakemycocktwitch.

Idroptomyknees,myfacesoclosetohersweetpussy,hiddenbyknickersthataredamp,andmy

breathlandsrightwhereIknowshe’ssotender.Daintyfingersbrushmyscalp,twistinmyhair,andshe
murmurs.

“Showme,”Iwhisper,andmyhandsgripherpalethighssofirmly,coaxingheruntilsheshiftsher

legsapart.

Herskinisclammyontheinsideofherthighs.Ismileatthesweetestlittlebirthmark.Notfarbelow

herpussy.It’salmostlikeaheart.

Icanseethepromiseofhairthroughthecotton,darkerthantheperfectblondeonherhead,andit

takeseveryscrapofrestraintnottotearthoseknickersdownandgorgeonhersweetlittlecunt.

Butslowly.Softly.
Gently.
Ipressmynosetothedampcottonandbreatheindeep,andshesmellsdivine.Mysighofpleasure

tellsherso,andherfingerstightenonmyscalp.

“Nick…”shewhispersbeforehervoicetrailsoff.
Thatwillhavetostop.
Butnotnow.
Notthismoment.
ShetensesasIpressmylipstoherthroughthefabric.WhimpersasIrubmynoseupanddown,over

thehardlittleclitIknowissohornyforme.Itasteherwetness,mytonguepushingatherthroughdamp
cotton,andIholdhertight,myhandsonherfirmlittleass,squeezingandstrokingasIlapatherknickers.

“Ah…”shewhispers.“That’s…ah…”
Isuckather.Gripherknickersinmyteethandtug,thensucksomemore.
She’ssquirmyinmyhands,breathlessagain,lettingoutthelittlemurmursIlovesomuch.Ieaseher

thighsfurtherapart,andshepressesherpussytomymouthlikesuchagreedylittlegirl.

Yes.She’sagreedylittlegirl.
Mygreedylittlegirl.
Mycockfuckinglovesthat.

Ihooktheelasticandpeelherknickersdownsoslowly.SheclosesherlegsasIslidethemoverher

ankles,andshe’snervousagain,shieldinghermostdelicatetreasure.

Istareupatheruntilshemeetsmyeyes,andthenIshakemyhead.
“No,”Isay.“Neverhideyourselffromme.Iwanttoseeyou.”
Shegivesmealittlenod,butherthighsstayclosed.
“Everything,Laine,”Itellher,andmyvoiceisfirm.“Showmethatbeautifulpussy.”
Shetakesadeepbreathandshufflesherfeetwide,hersweetyoungslitglisteningpinkandperfect.
“Stunning,”Itellher.“You’reabsolutelystunning,Laine.Sosweet.”Ileaninandtouchmytongueto

hernakedflesh,andshe’ssoftandwetanddelicious.Iflickmytonguealittleandshegaspsashuddery
breath.“Youtastedivine,Laine.Absolutelydivine.”

“Ido?”shesaysandIsmileupatherinnocence.
Iteasemyfingersuptheinsideofherthighs.Sosoftly,Ibrushthedelicatepetalsandspreadthem

wideuntilshe’srawandexposed.Herclitisagloriousbud,swollenandripe,paddlinginherexcitement
andbeggingtobesucked.

Iblowawarmbreathonherandshesquirms.Tugsatmyhair.
“Nick…please…”
Herheadistippedback,andIknowhereyesareclosed.Iknowshe’llbescrewingthemshutasIrun

thepointofmytonguealongherslitandfastenmymouthsotightlyonherpuffylittlemound.Istareupat
herasIsuck,andshe’sgaspingsodelightfullythatIcan’thelppalmingmycockthroughmytrousers.

Herfinenestofdarkblondehairticklesmynose.Herscentisthemostheavenlynectar,hittingme

rightinthetemplesasmytongueprobestofindherinnocence.Idaren’tpushintoofar.Daren’tspoilthat
sweetvirginpussy.

Ipressahandtoherbellyandtellhertoliedownonthebed.OnJane’sbed.
“Onyourback,”Isay.“Legstoyourchest,niceandwide.”
Hereyesareonmineasshepositionsherselflikeagoodgirl,hookingherelbowsunderherknees

andholdingthemtight.Herfluffypinksocksarecuteenoughtofuckingdiefor.Ikneelupontothebed
beneathher,andherpussyispresentedsoeagerly.HowI’dlovetofreemycockandpushindeep,
breakingthattightvirginholeandtakingherhardenoughthatsheknowswithoutanydoubtwhoshe
belongsto.

Buthereyestellmesheknowsthatanyway.They’rehooded,eyelashesfluttering.There’sashysmile

onherlips,alookofadorationthatmakesmyfuckingheartpound.

“Areyougoingto…”shebegins.
Ishakemyhead.“Slowly,Laine.”
Shenodsandtakesabreath.“Iloveit…whenyouhaveyourmouththere…”
“Metoo,Laine.”Ibrushathumbacrossherprettypinkpussy,circlearoundherclitandshemoansfor

me.Iteaseatherdownyhair,smileasshestaresupatme.“I’mgoingtoshaveyou,”Itellher.“Makeyou
niceandsmooth.Justrightforlicking.”

Shenods,smilesbackatme,hercheeksglowing.“Likeababy.”
Likealittlegirl.
Thethoughtisrightthere,inmyfilthymind.SweetlittleLainewithasweetshavenvirginpussy.
Ispreadherlips,andlowermyselfontoallfours,myfacesoclosetohergorgeousuntouchedlittle

cunt.SocarefullyIeaseheropen,justenoughtoseeinside.She’sintact,thedelicatepinkofherhymen
suchabeautifulpromise.Mymouthwatersandmycockstrainsforrelease.

Ilowermyfaceandtasteher.Pushmytongueinsidejustalittle,justenough.
“I’mready,”shewhispers.“Ifyouwantto…”
“Oh,Iwantto,”Isay.“Butthere’ssomuchtodo,Laine.Somanypleasurestoshowyou.”
Igripherclitbetweenmyfingers,andshecriesoutasIsuckitintomymouth.Isucksocarefully,

bringingupthepressureasshesquirms,thatlittlebudswellinginmymouthasherpussyclenches.

Shedropsherknees,andherfluffyheelsdigintothebed,raisingheruptogrindbackatme.Isnake

myarmsunderherassandholdhertight,andherhandsareinmyhair,tuggingasshebegsmeforharder.
Shewhimperslikegoodlittlegirl,askingsonicely,andIsuck.Hard.Suckuntilshe’spanting,suckuntil
herfingersarediggingintomyscalpandherfeetarethrashingagainstthecovers.

Isuckuntilshecriesout,loud,andmysweetlittleLaineswears.
“Fuck…fuck,fuck,fuck…”
Isuckuntilshe’scrested,untilshe’sholdingherbreathandherbodyistense,wiredtightasshe

unravels.Andthensherelaxes,letsallthetensionoutinonelongsigh.

ShejumpsasItapherpussy.
Justalighttap.Awarningshot.Enoughtomakeherstartle.
“Pottymouth,”Igrowl.“Dirtylittlegirl.”
Hereyesaresowideasshestaresatme,unsurewhetherI’mseriousornot.Iseetheworryplay

acrossherlips.

“Areyouadirtylittlegirl,Laine?”
Shebitesherlip.Shakesherhead,sounsure.
Soinnocent.
“Ithinkyou’readirtylittlegirl.”Ismileadirtysmile,andIcan’tcontrolthebeast.Ican’tfightthe

darkurgesthatwanttoconsumeher,soilher,corrupther,breakherandmakehermine.

Allmine.
“Ilike…”shebegins.
“What?Whatdoyoulike?”
Shepauses,hereyessparklingsobeautifully,herpussystillclenchingandglistening.“Ilike…

everything…Iwant…Iwanttobegood…”

“You’regoingtobemygoodlittledirtygirl,areyou?”
Shenods.“I’llbewhateveryouwantmetobe…”
Ohfuck.
Mycockjerks,myballstightenoughtoblow.
Shemustnoticemygrimace,becausehereyestraveldown,overmycreasedshirttothebulge

betweenmylegs.

Shelicksherlips,andhereyesflashwithadirtykindofdevilmentthattakesmybreath.
Dirtyinnocence.It’sthemostintoxicatingkind.
“CanIsee?”sheasks,inthesweetestvoice.“CanIseeyou?”Sheraisesherselfonherelbows,and

she’ssmiling.“Please…”

Ikneelup,myfingersworkingdownmyshirtbuttons,butshemoveslikeaquicklittlemouse,her

fingerspushingmineoutoftheway.

They’reshakingassheunbuttonsmyshirt.
Hercheeksarerosyassheslipsitfrommyshoulders.
Herlittlefingersrundownmychest,pressingagainsttheridges.
“You’reso…firm…”shesays.
“Iliketokeepfit,”Itellher.
Shenods,andhereyesmeetmineforamomentasshebrushesmynipple.
“Youcantouchme,”Isay.“Touchmehoweveryouwant.”
Herhandsgainconfidence,strokingandproddingandpinching.“You’reamazing…”shewhispers.

“You’reeverything…”

Iquietherwithmymouth,mylipspressingtohersbeforemytonguepushesinside.Itipher

backwardsandfollowher,andherfingerssnakeinstinctivelytomybelt.

Iunbuckleforher,andpulloutmycock,kissingherhardasIwraphersweetlittlefingersaroundmy

shaft.Imoveherhands,upanddown,niceandslowly.

“Likethat,”Igroanintohermouth.“Justlikethat.”
“Iwanttoseeit,”shewhispers.“Please…”
IpressahandtoherribsasIliftmyselffromher.AdjustherthighssoIcanseeherprettycuntasher

fingersworkmydick.Andshestaresatmycockwithwide-eyedwonder.

“It’sbig…”shesays.“Itfeelssonice.”
“Itfeelsalotnicerlikethis,”Isay,andpresstheheadagainstherslit.ShesucksinherbreathbutI

smile,slideituptoherclit.Irubmycockagainstherwetlittlebud,andherpalmspresstomythighs.

Ireachforher,myhandslippingbehindherheadtotakeherhair,supportingherweightsofirmly.
“Look,”Igrunt.“LookhowhardIamforyoursweetlittlepussy.”
“Doit,”shewhispers.
BackandforthIbrushmyswollenfuckingcock,overthatsensitivelittlenubuntilshe’spantingall

overagain.

“Ineedtocome,”Itellher.
“Please…yes…”
“Comewithme…”Idrophertoherbackandlowermyselfbackinposition.Mybellypressesto

hers,andherprettylittlenipplesfeelsosweetagainstmychest.

“Ican’t…”shewhispers.“I’mso…fluttery…”
“Youcan,”Itellher.“Ipromiseyou,youcan.”Ipause.“Andyouwill.Again,Laine.Comeforme

again.”

Irub,backandforth,mydickpinnedbetweenmystomachandherpussy,grindinghard,takingso

muchfuckingcarenottospearthattightlittlecuntandfillherupwithmycum.

ShewrapsherlegsaroundmywaistandmovesasImove.Herhandswraparoundmyneckandhold

tight,eyesclosedandmouthopenasshegaspsandmoansandwhimpers.

“I’mgonnacomealloveryoursweetlittlepussy,Laine.”
“Yes…”shewhispers.“OhGod,please…please,Nick…”
“Don’tcallmethat,”Igrowl,andI’montheedge,rightonthefuckingedge.
“WhatshallIcallyou?”sheasks,andIhearitinhervoice,Ihearshe’sthinkingit,too.
It’sinthelittletremor,thesweetlittlehintoflust.
Mybreathiserratic,mycockpulsingasmyballstighten,readytofuckingblow.AndIsayit.Ijust

fuckingsayit.

“CallmeDaddy,”Igrowl.“YoucancallmeDaddy.”
Shetenses,shudders,writhesagainstme.
Shelikesit.
Iknewshewould.
Amoaning,squirming,deliciouslittleangel.
Ithrust,pinherhard,unloadingmycumalloverhertenderlittlecunt,andshe’srighttherewithme,

whimperinglittlesquealsintomyear.

Icollapseontoher,dickslickwithmycumasitsmearsbetweenus,andIfeelherheartbeatagainst

mine,sofast.

Herfingersplaywithmyhair,hermouthtomyear.Ihearherbreathing.Herbreathsofast.
Shekissesme,herlipspressingsogentlytomytemple.
“Thankyou…Daddy.”

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

ICK

She’ssosmallinmyarms.Herdaintylittlelimbsholdingmesotight.Herhairsmellsofapples,

nestledundermychinasshesnugglesunderthebedcovers.

Herbreathingissoeven.AsweetcalmnessI’venotseeninherbefore.
Iguessthreeorgasmsdothattoagirl.
Thebeautyofthis…thistendernessIfeelwithherbesideme,goessomewaytodisarmingtheuneasy

feelinginmystomach.

I’vecrossedaline.Abigline.Alinethatmakesmefeellikeadepravedexcuseforaman.
AndyetlittleLainerestssopeacefully,pressesherbodytominewithadevotionI’vemissedforso

long.

Shemoves,andherhairticklesmychin.Ifeelhereyesonmeinthedarkness.
“Youshouldbeasleep,”Itellher.
Shesighs,andherlittlefingersstrokemyarm.“WasIok?”
Iholdhertight.“Youweremorethanok,youwereperfect.”
Shepressesherlipstomycollarbone.“Youwereperfect,too.Youwereeverything.”
Everything.
I’vewaitedsolongtobesomeone’severything.
Istretchoutmylegs,hertoesrubagainstthemandshesighsasweetlittlesigh,andthere’sapartof

methatwantstodrawalineunderthismurkyhalf-lightbetweenloverandfather.Apartofmethatwants
topickherupandcarryherthroughtomyactualbedroom,withitsbigdoublebed,anditsneutraldecor,
andclosethedoortoJane’sroomforever.

ButIcan’t.Theneedtoloveherasthecaptivating,innocentlittlesoulinpinkisfartoostrong.
“Daddy…”shewhispers.“I’vealwayswantedadaddy.”
Athrilloflustripplesthroughme,morethanenoughtocountermyself-revulsion.
“I’lltakecareofyou,likeanygoodfathershould,”Itellher.“You’resafehere.You’llalwaysbesafe

withme.”

“Iknow,”shesays.“Ilikeit…Ilikecallingyouthat…”
I’mdonefor,mydicktwitchingatthedesiretohearhersayitagain.
“Daddy.”Hervoiceisnothingbutabreath.“CanIreallycallyouthat?”
“Doyouwantto?”
Shenods,andIfeelhersmileagainstmyskin.“Yes.”Shepullsawayenoughtosearchmyfaceinthe

darkness.“Aslongasthatdoesn’t…changeanything…becauseIwant…Iwant…”

“Shh,”Isayandbrushmyfingersthroughherhair.“Nothingwillchangeanything.We’rejust…”I

struggletofindthewords.“Different,Laine.We’redifferent.Twopeoplewhofindwhattheyneedin
eachother.Inthemost…unusualofcircumstances.”

“Fate,”shesays,anditsoundssosimple.“It’sfate.Iknowitis.”
“Fate,”Irepeat.
Iwanttobelieveher.Ifindnofateinnumbers,orbalancingbooks,ormanagingabusiness.Ifind

nothingbutcoldhardlogicbehindeveryaspectofmylife.Apartfrominher.Inherbeautifulinnocence.
Inherwideeyes,andhersweetsmile.

Ifindfatehere,inmyarms.
“Daddy,”shewhisperssosoftly.
“Yes,sweetheart?”
“Whenwillwe…youknow…”
Iseekoutherlipsandkisshergently.Tastingherbreath.Breathinginapplesandinnocence.
“Soon,”Isay.“Nowgotosleep,likeagoodgirl.”
Shewrigglesagainstmewithacontentedsigh.
“Yes,Daddy.”

Laine

Iwaketoanemptybed,butitsmellsofhim,allwoodyanddarkandmusky.Ipullthecoverstomy

noseandbreathehimin,andthere’sathrillallthewaytomytoes.

Daddy.DaddyNick.Andhelovesme.
Icanstillfeelhishandsonme,andhismouth,thewayitfeltsogood.Thewayhemadeitfeel.He

makeseverythingfeelgood.

“Wakeup,sleepyhead!Breakfast’sup!”
Hisvoiceissoloudfromdownstairs.Itmakesmesmile,andIcan’tmovefastenough,jumpingoutof

bedandthrowingonmydressinggown.IlaughtomyselfasIrealiseI’vestillgotsillysockson.Toasty
feet.

He’sdressedforworkasIjoinhimatthetable,andhe’ssmilinghisserioussmileagain,lookingso

dapperandfinewithhishairsoslick.

“Baconandeggs.Yummy.”Itakemyknifeandfork,andhiseyesburnmycheeks.
“Youlookcute,”hesays.“Likeadishevelledlittleelf.”
Ibrushmyhairdownwithmyfingers.“YoulooklikeaRolexadvert.”
Helaughs.“Ido,doI?”
Inod.“Ilikeit.”Ican’tstoplookingathim,andmyclitfeelstingly,wantingmore,wantinghiscock

insidemeforthefirsttime,wantingtostayinbedanddoitalloveragain,alldaylong.

Hemustbeabletotell,becausehissmileturnsdark,hiseyesstern.
“Eatyourbreakfastallup,littleLaine,”hesays,“neveranywasteinthishousehold.”
“Ok.”IsmileasIcutupmybacon,andhe’sstillstaringasItakeaswigofjuice.
“Ok,what?”
Myheartflutters.AndIdon’tknow.Idon’tknowifI’vegotitrightbutIsayitanyway.
“Ok,Daddy.”
Igotitright.Hissmiletellsmeso.
“That’smygoodgirl,”hesays.

Itfeelsthebestthingintheworldtobehisgoodgirl.
Ieatmybreakfastallup,justlikeDaddywantsmeto.

Hekissesmeontheheadoutsidethecollegegates,andpartofmeisdisappointed,wantingtofeelhis

tongueinmymouthandhishandsinmyhair.

“I’llcallyouatlunchtime,”hetellsme.“AndI’llpickyouupattheusualtime.Don’tbelate.”
Inod.“Iwon’t.Thanks,Daddy.Seeyoulater.”
Itstillfeelssoweird,stillgivesmethistingleinmybellyeverytimeIsayit.
I’mgrinningasKellyAnnecatchesmeupinthecorridor,lostinmyownlittleworldassheshunts

intomyback.

“Hey!”shesays.“EarthtoLaine!I’vebeenyellingafteryourightthroughthefuckingcarpark.”
Ishrug.“Didn’thearyou,sorry.”
Shegroans.“Yourhead’stoobusyfloatingawayafterthecreepyoldguy.Urgh,Isawhimkissyou.”

Shepullsafaceatthelunchboxinmyarms.“Whatyougottoday?Humanspleenonwholemeal?”

“Don’tbestupid.”
Shelaughs,likeit’sfunny.“He’sabitHannibal,don’tyouthink?MysweetClarice…arethelambs

stillscreaming…”Shegroansagain,anoverthetopsoundthatgratesatme.“Justbecausehedrivesa
flashcarandbuysyoushitdoesn’tmeanhe’snotaClass-Aweirdo.”

It’sherexpression,oneIhaven’tseenonherbefore.Iguessit’salittleintheshiftofherfeet,too.The

waysheshuffles,thescowlbeneathherstupidjokes.

She’sjealous.
AndIcan’tbelieveit,Ican’tbelieveKellyAnneisactuallyjealousofme.
“He’snice,”Itellher.“He’sreallynice.”
“Niceandcreepy…”
“Niceandnice.Kindandstrongandconsiderateandthoughtfulandloving.”
“Loving?”Sheraiseshereyebrows.“OhmyGod,didhe…touchyou?Majorgross-out.”
I’mabadperson,Imustbe,becauseIwanttotellhereverything,wanttotellherallabouthow

amazinghemademefeel,andhowgoodhewasandhowmuchhelovesme.Iwanttotellherthatit’s
fate,andIlovehimandhelovesme,andhe’sgoingtotakecareofme,holdmetight,andmakemylunch
everyday,andtakemyvirginityandit’sgoingtobeeverythingIeverwanted,notsomecrappyfumble
withKyleVickersbehindtheschoolbinslikeherswas.

“Laine…”sheprompts.“Didhe..?Areyou..?Jeez,don’ttellmeyoufinallyditchedtheV-card?”
Itugherelbowandpullhertothesideofthecorridor.“No.Notyet.ButIwill.”
Sherollshereyes.“Forreal?YouandHannibal?Somanyhotguysoutthereandyoupickthecreepy

olddude.Daddyissuesmuch?”

Mycheeksareonfire.Mywholebodyfeelsonfire.
“That’swhatthisis,right?”Shelaughs.“Daddyissues.”ShepretendstosuckherthumbandIgetan

ickyrushofbutterflies.“Ooh,Daddy,thatfeelssonice,Daddy.I’llbeagoodlittlegirl,Daddy.”

“Stopit,”Isay.“Itwasnice.Thewholethingwasamazing.”
Shepropsherselfagainstthewall,actslikethebig,coolgirl.“Thewholething?Sospill,ohvirginal

one,whatisthewholething?”

She’sruiningit.Myonlyfriend,myonlyconfidante,evenifshe’salwaysbeenashitone,andshe’s

ruiningit.

“Forgetit,”Imumble,andmaketomovepasther.
Shegrabsmyarm.“Hey,Laine.Chill,I’monlygoofingaround.”
“It’snotfunny.”
ShelookssoshockedasIscowlasher,andit’sabouttime.It’sabouttimeIletherknowshe’sbeinga

fuckingasshole.

“It’safuckingjoke,alright?”Shesighs,likeI’mtheunreasonableone.“I’mserious,Iwanttoknow.If

it’sabigdealforyou,it’sabigdealforme.”

Ifonlythatweretrue.That’sneverbeentrue.
Ishrug,andwhynot.She’sthebestI’vegot.
“Itwasnice,”Isay.“Hewasreallyconsiderate,andreallyrespectful,andtookitreallyslow…”
“And…”Herhandsareeggingmeon.“Juicygossip,please…”
Ilowermyvoice.“Hekissedme…”
“Yes,and…”
“Anditwasamazing.”Ican’tstopsmiling.“Hewasamazing.Hekissedme,andtouchedme,and…”

Icheckthere’snobodyclose.“Andheputhismouthonme,andsuckedmyclituntilIcame,andthenhe
puthisdickthere,anditwasmassive…reallybig…”

Shelaughs.“Howwouldyouknow?”
Ilaughrightback.“I’mnotatotalbaby,youknow.I’vewatchedpornography,justlikeyoudo.”
“Theveryfactyoucallitpornographysaysitall.”
“Butheis,”Icontinue.“He’sbig.Anditfeltamazing.”
“Buthedidn’tfuckyou,withthisbiggiantcockofhis?”Sheraisesaneyebrow.
Igrin.“Notyet,buthewill.”
Shegroans.“Sowhatdidhedowithit?”
Thememoriescomeback,andsodothetingles,thefeelingofhim,rubbing,andmakingthosenoises.

Thesoundofthebedcreaking.

“Herubbedme…rightagainstmyclit…andIcame…andhecame…”
“Hefuckingdryhumpedyou?!”
Ishrug.“Itwasn’tsodry…”
“Gross,”shesays,butshe’slying.She’sscowlingagain.
Isigh,hugmylunchboxtomychest.“Ilovehim.”
“Excuseme?Youfuckingwhat?!”
Ismile.Simply.“Ilovehim.”
ShestaresatmelikeI’masimpleton.Mumstaresatmelikethat,too,andIhateit.Ialwayshateit.“I

meanit,”Itellher.“Ilovehim,andhelovesme.”

“Youdon’tevenknowhim,”shesnaps.
“Iknowenough,”Isnapback.“It’sfate.”
“Notthosefuckinghoroscopesagain…”
“Idon’tneedhoroscopestotellmeit’sfate,”Iinsist.“Ialreadyknow.Andheknowsit,too.”
“Thenyou’rebothfuckingcraycray.”Shespinsafingerintheair.
“He’sgoingtobetheone,”Isay,andIdon’tgiveashitanymore.Notwhatshethinks,norwhatshe

says.Notathowshelooksatme,orhowMumlooksatme,orhowanyoneelseinthewholeworldlooks
atme.

Noneofitmatters,notnowIhaveNick.Daddy.
NotnowIhavesomeonewholovesme.
“Fine,”KellyAnnesaysfinally,andletsoutasigh.“IfyouinsistonbeingcraycraywithHannibal-

old-guythenyoudothat.Justletmehaveallthejuicygossip,deal?”

IthinkI’vewonsomeinvisiblebattle,andI’mnotevensurewhatIwasfighting.

“Sure,”Isay.“Buthisname’sNick.”
“DaddyNick,”shelaughs,andI’msuremyburningcheeksaregoingtogivemeaway,butsheslaps

meonthebackanddoesn’tevennotice.“Alright,”shesays.“Now,let’stalkaboutblowjobs,I’vegot
somegreattechniques…”

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

AINE

ICK

’

SMILING

whenIslipintothepassengerseat,andIcan’tstopgigglingasKellyAnne’ssilly-arse

blowjobtechniquesflashbackthroughmymind.

“What?”heasks.“What’sgotyousotickled?”
Ishakemyhead,andtrytostop,butheleanstowardme,hiseyessoquestioning,andit’stoomuch.

It’smuchtoomuch.

“KellyAnne,”Isay,andhesighsbeforeI’veevenstarted.“No!”Itellhim,“it’sfunny.Shewas,um…

tryingtoteachme…inthetoilets…”

Heraisesaneyebrow.“Tryingtoteachyouwhatexactly,Laine?”
ThegigglesstopasIrealiseI’vecommittedmyselftosharingthestupidstory.Andwiththatcomes

thetruththatI’vebeenblabbingaboutus,aboutwhatwedid.ItfeelslikeI’vedonewrongsomehow,like
Ishouldn’tbetalkingaboutthat,andIguessmyexpressionsaysso,becausehiseyeswon’tleavemine.

“What,Laine?”
Ishrug.“I,um…ItoldKellyAnne,somethings.”
Henods.“Somethingsaboutus?”
Itaptheemptylunchboxinmylap.“Iwon’ttellheranythingelse…notifit’sprivate…”
“Doyouwantustobeprivate?”
Ishrugagain.“Ifthat’swhatyouwant…”
Hishandrestsonmyarm.“That’snotansweringmyquestion.Doyouwantustobeprivate?”
Idon’t.Idon’twantustobeprivate.Iwanttoshoutitfromtherooftops,showthewholeworldthata

manlikeNicklovesme,andI’mhisandhe’smine.ButIdon’tsaythat.Thewordsdon’tcome,soIshake
myhead,hopingmyeyestellhimallthat.

“No,”Isay.“Idon’twantustobeprivate,likewe’redoingsomethingwrong.Iwantittobe…

real…”

Hesmiles.“Itisreal.We’rereal.”Hisfingerssqueezemyelbow.“Ihavenoproblemwithyoutelling

KellyAnneaboutus,Laine,butyoushouldbeawarethataspectsofour…relationship…maymake
peopleuncomfortable.”

“Ididn’ttellherabout…thosebits…”Iadmit,andmycheeksareonfire.
“Probablyforthebest.”Hesqueezesagain.“I’mnotashamed,sweetheart,butwe’reunorthodox.Our

relationshipisunorthodox.Bepreparedforwhatthatmeans,shoulditgetoutsomehow.”

“Itwon’t…”Itellhim.“I’donlytalktoKellyAnne,andshe’d…”

“She’dwhat?”
Idon’twanttosayit,butIdo.“She’dlaugh,orbesuperickedout.Shewouldn’tgetit.”
Helaughs,anditsurprisesme.“Superickedoutcouldarguablybetherightresponsetoasituation

likeours.Daddyplayis…niche,Laine,sonichethatmostpeoplejustwouldn’tunderstand.”

Ilaughwithhim,butI’mshakingmyhead.“No!It’snotsupericky,notatall!Ilikeit…it’sjust…”
“Alittlebiticky?”
“No!”Ifidgetinmyseat.“Imeantit’sprivate,noticky.”
Daddyplay.Thewordsspininmybrain,andtheymakesense.That’swhatthisis.It’sDaddyplay.I

sawthatonJerrySpringeronce,yearsago,somegrownupwomaninpigtails,colouringinwhilethisguy
talkedtoJerryabouthowshewashislittle-yorsomething.

Itmademefeelsquirmy,allweirdandhot,andthensoguiltywhenMumlaughedaboutitandsaid

howgrossitwas.Windowcleanerguy,that’swhoshesaiditto.Andhehadn’tsaidaword,juststaredin
mydirection.

“Let’sgohome,”Nicksays,andmythoughtsarerightbackwithhim.He’slookingatmesointentlyas

heputsthecaringear,likeheknowsI’mfeelingallsquirmyagainatthememory.

Inod.“Homesoundsrealgood.”
“Yes,”hesays.“Itdoes.”
Andinthatmomenthe’sthatNickagain.TheDaddyNickthatrubbedhiscockagainstmeuntilhe

came.

ICK

’

THINKING

ABOUT

,theDaddyplay.Icanseeitalloverherface.Icanfeelitinherwispylittle

breaths,hereyesstaringatmeasImakefastworkofthedrivehome.

She’sthinkingaboutitandshelikesit.
Iimagineherhornylittleclit.Imagineherdampwhiteknickers.Imaginethewayshe’sclenchingher

thighsunderthelunchboxinherlap.

“I’mgoingtoshaveyou,”Itellher.
“Okay,”shesayswithouthesitation,asthoughI’vetoldherwe’rehavingchickenfordinner.
ButIwantmorethanthat.Mycockiscravingareaction,mycockiscravingher.Cravingtheguilty

devilmentinhereyeswhensheknowsshe’smyhornylittlegirl.

“I’mgoingtoshaveyourprettylittlecunt,Laine,andthenI’mgoingtosuckonthatsmoothlittle

mounduntilyoucomeforyourdaddylikeagoodgirl.”

Hermouthdropsopen,hercheeksbloomred,anditmakesmesofuckinghard.
“That’swhatyouwant,isn’tit?TellDaddythat’swhatyouwant.”
Hervoiceissodelicate.“Yes…yes,please…”
“Ineedmorethanthat,Laine…Yesplease,Daddy.Iwantyoutoshavemeandlickme,Daddy.I’llbe

agoodgirl,Daddy.”

Sheshiftsinherseatandclearsherthroat,andhersweetexcitementistoomuchforme.Itakeher

lunchboxandthrowitontothebackseat,andmyfingersslipbetweenherlegs,rubbingatherthroughthe
denimofherjeans.

“Yesplease,Daddy,”shewhispers,sosoftly,andherlegspart,herhipsrollingupformore.
“Youlikethat,Laine?Youlikebeingmylittlegirl?”

Shenods,herlippinchedbetweenherteeth.Ittakesallofmyrestrainttopullmyhandawayandturn

myattentionbacktotheroad.

“Isawit…ontheTV…”Hervoiceishushed,confessional.“Isawit…thiswoman…inpigtails…

andthisguy…beingherdaddy…”

“Diditmakeyouwet?”
Shenodsagain.“Iwenttobedandtouchedmyself,anditfelt…icky…butnice…”
“Dirty,”Itellher.“Thewordisdirty.”
“Dirty…”sherepeats.“Itfeltdirty…butnice…Icouldn’tstop.”
“Youdon’thavetostop.Wecanplaythatgameforever,Laine.Youcanbemydirtylittlegirlforever.”
“Forever…”Daintyfingersreachoutandstrokemyhandonthegearstick.
“Daddy’sgoingtomakeyouhis,Laine.Daddy’sgoingtofuckyou,andloveyou,andpunishyouwhen

you’rebad.Daddywilltakecareofyou,sweetheart.I’llmakeitfeelsonicewhenyou’regood,andmake
ithurtsobadwhenyou’renot.That’swhatyouneed,Laine.Loveanddiscipline.That’swhatalllittle
girlsneedfromtheirdaddy.”

“Yes,Daddy…”Herbreathsarelikegasps.“Please…that’swhatIwant…that’swhatIalways

wanted…Iwantthis…Iwantitsobad…”

Mycockisstrainingandmyheartbeatisthumpinginmytemples.Everythingistwitching,pounding,

onthevergeofexploding,allbecauseofthisdivinelittlecreatureIpickedupintherain.

Ishouldstop.
Weshouldstop.Stopthispervertedlittlegamewe’replaying.
ButstoppingisthelastthingIwant.

AINE

DOESN

’

anyoftheusualstuff,likeheadthroughtothekitchen.Hedoesn’theadupstairsandtake

hisjacketoffandhangitup,ortakemylunchboxandputitinthedishwasher.Hedoesn’tmakehimselfa
coffeeorgetmeajuice,oraskmeaboutmyday.

WhenDaddyNickclosesthefrontdoortoday,hetakesmyhairinhishandandpullstightuntilIgasp,

andthenhekissesme,andhistongueissoroughandsofast,histhighbetweenmineashepinsmetothe
wallinthehallway.

Iwonderifthisisit.Ifhe’llreallytakemenow.
Ifhe’lltakemehere,withmyjeansaroundmyanklesandhistongueinmymouth.Iwantthat.Iwantit

anywayhewantstogiveittome.

Hisfingerstugatmycamitopandsqueezemytitsthroughmybra,andhe’ssohardagainstmybelly,

sohardandsobig.

SuddenlyKellyAnne’ssillytechniquesdon’tseemsosilly.
Iwanttotrythem.Everysingleoneofthem.
IopenmymouthwideforDaddy,lethimpushhistonguesodeep,squirmingagainsthislegashis

fingerstugandpinchatmynipples.Ilikeit.Ilikeitsomuchwhenhe’sroughlikethis.

Iwonderwhatitwouldfeelliketobeabadgirlandhavehimpunishme,andIlikethat,too.
Igroanashepullsaway,andhisbreathishotinmyface.Hotandfast.
“Upstairs,”heorders.“Takeyourclothesoffinthekitchenandwaitformeatthetable.”
InodandmytummylurchesasIleavehim.Hewatchesmeallthewayupstairsasthebutterflies

flutter.MyheartthumpsasItakeoffmycardiganontheway,andmycami,too.Ifoldthemandplacethem
onthechair,thenunclipmybrawithshakyfingers.Islipdownmyjeansandstepoutofthem,my
knickers,too,andputthemonthepileuntilI’monlyinmysocks.

I’mtuggingthemoffwhenhecomesintoview,andhestaresatme.SwallowsasIpullthemfreeand

putthemonthechairwithmyknickers.

He’scarryingatowel,andabowl.
Andarazor.
He’scarryingarazor.
Ifeelsoexposedashecomesnear.Hissuitissofineandhishairissoslick,andmine’sawispy

mess.Ibrushitfrommyfaceashewatches.Hiseyesglintashepatsthetable,andIhitchupandontoit,
thewoodsohardagainstmyass.

“Lieback,legsup,”hetellsme,andIdoashesays,grabbingholdofmykneesandholdingthemtight

tomychestlikeIdidlastnight.

Herollsmebackwards,andslipsatowelundermyass,anditfeelssoicky…dirty…likeI’mababy

onachangingmat,andhe’sabouttowipemydirtybottom…

Iwonderifhecanseemy…seeit…
Iwonderifhewantsto…
Herunshisfingersdownmythighs,allthewaytomypussy,andfurther.AndIknowthenthathecan.

Hecanseeeverything.

Hepullsmyasscheeksapartanditmakesmescrewmyeyesclosed,knowinghe’slookingatme

there…knowinghecanseethemostprivatepartsofme…

“Relax,”hesays.“NosecretsfromDaddy,remember?Iwanttoseeeverything,knoweverything.

Everybeautifuldirtylittlepartofyou.”

Ifeelheady.Nervous.Mythroatisdryandmyfeetaretwitchyasherunshisthumbacrossmy

asshole.Myactualasshole.Andittickles,butit’sanicetickle.

Idon’tknowifitshouldfeelthisgood,butitdoes…itfeelsreallygood.
“DirtylittlegirlslikeDaddy’scockintheirass,Laine.”
Hesaysitsobluntly,hisvoicesodeepandstrong.Itmakesmytoestingle,tothinkofhim…in

there…

“Goodlittlegirlsareluckybecausetheygetitniceandgentle.”
Thequestionrollsoffmytongue.“Andbadlittlegirls..?”
Icanhearthesmileinhisvoice.“Begoodandyouwon’thavetofindout.”
Histhumb,backandforth,pressingintomyass,andIlikeit.Ilikebeingadirtygirl.
Iopenmyeyes,andhisarefixedbetweenmylegs,rightwherehe’stouching.Helookssodifferent

likethis,sodarkandsexyandfierce,sodifferentfromtheDaddyNickthatmakesmylunchboxand
strokesmyhairatnight.

“Waitrighthere,”hesays,likethat’snecessary.
Hepicksupthebowlandheadsoutofview,andIbouncemykneesagainstmychestwhileIwait.I

hearwaterrunning,andfootsteps,myneckcraningforsightofhim.Steamrisesfromthebowlwhenhe
comesbackintoview,andtherearethosetinglesinmytoesagain,thosewingsbeatinginmybelly.

Ipeerdownbetweenmythighsashelatherssoapintohishands.Theyfeelsowarmastheytouch

againstmypussy,sogentleasherubssudsalloverme.Hemeetsmyeyesashetakestherazor.

“Relax,sweetheart.I’llbecareful.”
Inod.“Iknowyouwill,Daddy.”
Itfeelssostrange,thesensationofthebladeagainstmyskin.Longstrokes,thenshortones,hisfingers

spreadingmeopentoruntherazorbetweenmylips.Itrusthimsomuchthatit’seasytorelax.Istarein
fascination,notfear.Watchinghim,watchingthewayhe’ssocarefulandprecise,watchingthesmileon

hisfaceasheshavesmebaldandmakesmesotender.

Iflinchastherazordipsbetweenmyasscheeks,andthenIgiggleforbeingsosilly.
“Niceandsmooth,”hesays,andrunsthebladeeverywhere.Everywhere.
Hewipesmedownwithawarmclothanditfeelsliketinglyheaven.Likemyskin’sneverbeen

touchedbefore.Iwanttofeelitformyself,butIdon’tmove,justholdmykneestightlikeheaskedmeto.

“Beautiful,”hesays.“You’reabsolutelybeautiful,littleLaine.”
Hedipshisheadandblowswarmbreathonme,anditmakesmeshudderandsquirm.
“Tingles…”Iwhisper.“Italltingles…”
Heletsoutagroanashepresseshislipstomypussy,andit’ssorawthatitmakesmyheadspin.His

tongueswirlsandlapsatme,hisfingersspreadingmeopenuntilhe’sflickingmyclitwithfastlittle
strokesandI’mgrippingmykneessotightmyfingershurt.

“Yes,Daddy…please…”
Hismouthishotasheclampsitontome,andhesuckshard.Imakestupidhissingnoisesashepinches

myclitbetweenhisteeth,andmymusclesareclenchedtight,myhipsbucking,desperateformore.

It’seasytocometoday.Mybodyjustdoesit,mybreathfastandshort,mylegstremblingasIgoup

andovertheedge.Hemakesitsoeasy.

Ijumpashistonguetouchesmyasshole,squirmingawaybeforeherealiseshe’smadeamistakeand

squicksout,buthegrabsmythighsandholdsmetight,andhistongueisrightbackthere,tastingme,inmy
dirtiestplace,whereitfeelssoicky…dirty…

“Daddy…”Iwhisper,asthoughIneedtotellhim,buthejustgruntsandpushesthepointofhistongue

rightthere,rightinside.

Hisvoiceismuffledandgruff.“Relax,”hesays.“LetDaddytasteyou.”
Andhecan’tmean…buthedoes…hedoesmeanit.Hisfingersspreadmyassandhistonguepushes

andpokesitswayinside,anditfeelslikeanelectriceel,allsparkyandticklyandjolty.

AndIcan’tgetenough.
Ican’tgetenoughofhowitfeels.
Heknowsit,too.Ihearalowlaugh.“Daddyknowshowtomakeyoufeelgood,sweetheart.”
HepushesindeeperandIcan’tstopmyselfmoaning.
Igaspashepullsaway.HelickshislipsasIstareathim,andIwonderwhatItastelike.
ButIdon’tthinkIwanttoknow.
Idropmykneesandletmylegshangovertheedgeofthetable.I’mproppeduponmyelbowsas

DaddyNickunbuckleshisbelt.

“DoyouwanttomakeDaddyfeelgood?”
Ismilesobrightly,becauseit’srealandtrue.There’snothingIwantmorethantomakeDaddyfeel

good.

Hebeckonsmeoffthetable,andhishandlandsonmyhead,pushesmedowntomyknees,andIknow

what’scoming.IjusthopeIrememberwhatKellyAnnetoldme.

Hiscockissobigwhenhepullsitfree.Hesmellsallgrownup,andhiscockisdarkandthickand

veiny.Heworksitinhishandandtheendiswet,justalittle.Theslitintheendissoclosetomyface,
andIwonderifIcouldfitthetipofmytongueinthere,andifI’dwantto.

Yes,I’dwantto.
Mymouthopensoninstinct,myeyesmovinguptomeethisashisfingersstrokemyhair.
“Givemeyourmouth,littleLaine,”hesays,andhishipspushforward,thebig,darkheadofhiscock

aimingrightformylips.“LookatDaddynow.KeeplookingatDaddy.”

He’sbiggerinmymouththanIexpect,pushingpastmyteethuntilmycheeksbillowandstrain,andI

wanttoretchbutfightit,justtrytokeepbreathingthroughmynoseasherockshimselfbackandforth.

“That’sit,sweetheart.That’sagoodgirl.”

HepushestothebackofmythroatandIsplutteruntilhepullsoutagain.
“SuckDaddy.SuckDaddywiththatprettylittlemouth.”
Idosuckhim.Isuckhimhard,notcaringhowmymouthiswetandslurpy.Notcaringthatmyeyesare

wateringandmycheeksfeelhollowwiththestrain.

IforgeteverysinglepieceofadviceKellyAnnegaveme,becauseit’sallIcandotokeepsuckingas

hetakesmyhairandholdsmetight.Hethrusts,slowly,butdeep,gently,backandforth.

“That’sit…goodgirl…”Hecloseshiseyesandletsoutagrunt.“Deeper,letDaddydeeper.”
Iretchashepushes,butdon’tpullaway.Ineverwanttopullaway.
Hepusheshisdickintomycheekuntilitstrains,andthenhewatchesme.Watchesmewithhisbig

thickcockstretchingmymouth,andIprayI’mdoingitright,prayI’mgoodenough.

“Perfect,”hegrowls.“Fuck,Laine,you’reafuckingtreasure.”
Hispleasureisthegreatestsoundonearth.Theroughnessofhisfingersinmyhairisthegreatest

feeling.Iloveitwhenhegruntsandgroans,whenhethrustsandmakesmegag.

Iloveitwhenhelosescontrolandhishipsjerkandthrustandhisdicktwitchesandpulsesinmy

mouth.

Ilovethefilthynoisesitmakeswhenhe’sfuckingmymouth.
Becausethat’swhathe’sdoing.He’sfuckingmymouth.
Myfingerscan’tstopplayingwithmyclit,andmybarepussyfeelssostrangeandsensitive.I’m

makingnoisestoo,weirdlittlegaspsthatsoundlikesqueaksashisballsslapoffmychin.

They’rebiggerthanIthought,too.
“Daddy’sgoingtocome,”herasps.“YouwantDaddy’scum,don’tyou?”
Icanbarelynod,butItryanyway.
“It’scoming…takeitallforDaddy,takeitall,sweetheart…”
Ithitsthebackofmytonguefirst,andit’sthickandsaltyandmakesmechoke.Ifeelhimspurtagainst

mylips,andittastessostrange,likenothingI’veevertasted.

“OpenforDaddy…”hegroans,andthere’smore.Iopenwideashisdickjerksandhiscumfillsmy

mouth,andit’swarmundermytongue,myeyesstreamingasittricklestothebackofmythroat.

Hegruntsandswearsandworkshiscockasitspurts,overandover,andthenhetensesandsighs.He

smoothsthehairfrommyforeheadandsmilesatme.

“Showme,showDaddy.”
Iopenmymouthwide,andhelooksinside,thenpusheshisfingersin,rollsthemaroundmytongue

whereI’mfullofhim.

“Goodgirl…”hesays,anditmakesmyheartsoproud.“SwallowforDaddy.”
Iswallowitalldownlikeagoodlittlegirlandshowhimmyemptymouth,andit’sreallynotthatbad.

It’snotsobadatall,notlikeKellyAnnesaiditwas.

IlikeDaddyNick’scum,justasmuchasIliketherestofhim.
Hepullsmetomyfeetandwrapsmeinhisarms,andIfeelsogiddy,sofloatyandlightasheholds

metight.

Hekissesmymouth,wherehe’sbeen,andI’msureImusttasteofhim,buthedoesn’tcare.Histongue

licksatmine,andminelickshisrightback,andI’mgiggling,happy.

I’mstillgigglingashepullsaway.
“Youcandoyourhomeworkbeforedinner,”hesays,anddirtyDaddyNickisallgone.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

ICK

WATCH

herasIcookupourpasta,choppingtomatoesasshepretendstoponderoveranassignment.She’s

notthinkingabouthercollegework,notevenclose.Hereyesflickinmydirectioneverytimeshethinks
I’moccupied,andhercheeksarestillprettypink,flushedwiththatbeautifulpost-orgasmicglowevery
manlikestoseeafterhe’sbeeneatingpussy.

She’sbarelydressed,andIwonderifhercamisole,knickersandsockscombinationisdeliberate.She

couldn’tlookmoreinnocentlittlegirlifshetried.Itshouldn’tfeelasgoodasitdoes,thisthingwe’ve
got.Itshouldn’tfeelasthoughmylifemeantnothingbeforeshewashere,butitdoes.

“Whatisit?”sheasks,andshe’ssmiling.
“Sorry?”
Shelaughs,andit’sintoxicating.“You’restaringsoharditburns.HaveIdonesomething?”
“You’vedoneplenty,younglady,”Itellherinmysternestvoice.
“Ihave?”
“Ohyes.”Icontinuechopping,thenputthetomatoesinthepanbeforeIsmile.“Allofitgood.”
Shesighsandfeignsaheartattack.“I’mgladit’sallgood,”shesays.“You’vedoneplentytoo,Daddy

Nick.”

“Ihave,haveI?”
Shenods,andthere’snolaughterthere,justahushedlittlewhisper.“Iwasnobodybeforeyoufound

me.”

Ithitsmeinthegut.Twodifferentpeople,twoverydifferentworlds.Bothempty.
ShetapsthepenIgaveheragainsthernotepad.“Ineverhadafamilybefore,butnowIhave.We’rea

family,right,alittleone,meandyou?”

“Yes,Laine.Yesweare.”
Hersmileisbrightenoughtolighttheworld.IknowI’llnevergrowtiredoflookingather,nevertire

oftakingcareofher,orholdinghertight.Orlovingher.

“Thanks,”shesays.“You’vegivenmeeverything.”
“AndI’lltakeyou.”Itellher.“Soon.”
“Soon?”
Inod.“Soon,Laine.”
“Butnottoday?”
“Nottoday.”

Sheshrugs.“Ok,Daddy.Wheneveryou’reready.”
HercoylittlegrinmakesmesmileallthewhileIstrainthepasta.

RUN

herabathfullofbubbles,andshe’ssodaintyasshedipsatoein.

“Toohot?”
Sheshakesherhead.“Justright.”
Sheholdsmyarmforbalance,eventhoughshedoesn’tneedit,andIholdherasshelowersherself,

hertightlittlebodymakingmycockstrainasshedisappearsunderthesuds.

Iuncuffmyshirtasshewatches,rollupmysleevesbeforeIdipthejuginthewaterbetweenherlegs.

Shesitsupinstinctively,tippingherheadbackreadyformetowetherhair.

“Mumusedtodothis,”shetellsme.“Onlysometimes,whenIwaslittle.Wedidn’thaveashower.”

ShecloseshereyesasItipthejug.“Thatfeelsreallynice.”

“Ournewroutine,sweetheart,”Isay.“Bathandbedtime.”Thethoughtthrillsme.
Isqueezetheshampooontoherhair,darkernowit’swet,anditfeelssosoftagainstmyfingersasI

lather.

“Thatfeelsbetterthannice,”shetellsme.“Itfeelsamazing.”
Imassageherscalp,andtickleherneck,twisthergoldentressesaroundmyfingersasshesighs.
Shelowersherselfunderthewatertorinseitoff,andherkneesbobup.Iresisttheurgetoslipmy

handbetweenherlegs,andshesurfacesnonethewiserofthehardonpulsinginmytrousers.Ismooth
throughtheconditionerasshesighs.

“Didyoudothis…forJane?”
“Yes,Idid.”
“That’snice,”shesays.
“Likeridingabike,”Itellher,makingsureI’veconditionedthefinelittlewispsathertemples.“Once

youknowhowtowashhair,youneverforget.”

“You’regoodatit.You’regoodateverything.”
“Noteverything.”
Shetwistsherheadtomeetmyeyes.“Yesso.You’reamazing.”
Shecansayitallshelikes,butthetwopeopleIlovedsomucharestillinthegroundbecauseIdidn’t

takegoodenoughcareofthem.Shemustnoticethesadness,becauseshetwistsfurther,andhersweet
littlenipplesgreetmethroughthebubbles.

“Ireallymeanit.You’reamazing,Daddy.Sokindandthoughtfulandstrong.”
“Notstrongenough,Laine.Notinthepast.NotenoughtoenforcethedisciplineIshould’veenforced.”
Hereyesarewide,lasheswet.“Butyouarenow.”
“Yes,”Itellher.“Iamnow.”
ShetwistsbackasIcontinuewithherhair.“Howwillyou…disciplineme…”
Idon’thesitate.“I’llspankyou,Laine.Hard.Untilyoulearnwhateverlessonneedslearning.”
Thewatergivesheraway,aslopagainstthesidesasshesqueezesherlegstogether.“You’llspank

me?”

“Hard.”Itugherhairbackuntilhereyesarestaringupatmine.“Myfatherusedabeltonme.It’sin

mystudy,whichstillhasthesamedeskheusedtopunishmeover.”

Sheswallows.“Itmust’vehurt.”
“Verymuch.”Iletgoofherhair.“Buthetaughtmewell.Taughtmehowtobesmart,anddedicated,

anddriven.”

“Willyou…useabeltonme?”

“Ifyoudeserveit.”Itwistherhairintoaponythenpileitontopofherheadandgrabthesoap.“Bea

goodgirlandthere’llbenoneed.Armsup.”

SheraisesherarmsandIsoapher,fromherdaintyfingerstoherelbows,thenuptoherarmpitsasshe

giggles.“Thattickles.”

Shestopsgigglingasmyfingersworkdownherfront.Itakehersweetlittletitsandrolltheminmy

palms,andhernipplesarehard,justrightforalittlepinch.SheleansintomeandIpinchthemagain,
sharpenoughthatshesqueaks.

“Dirtygirl,”Itellher,andtapherknees.“LetDaddywashyou.”
Sheraisesherselfonherarms,herbackarchedandkneesspreadwithouthesitation.Herpussy

presentsitselfabovethewater,coveredinbubblesandrosypinkfromthewarmth.Ilatherfreshsoapand
slipmyhandbetweenherthighs,rubbingbackandforth,wheremyfingerscatchherclitandslide
betweenherpuffylips.Sherocks,andmurmurs,eyestightshutasIsoapher.

“Lovelyandclean,”Itellher,butshekeepsrocking.
“Please,Daddy…thatfeelssonice…”
“DoesmydirtylittlegirlwantDaddytomakehercome?”
Shenodsherhead.“Please,Daddy…”
Ipullmyhandawayandshegroans.“Onallfours,beagoodgirlandI’llmakeyoucome.”
Thewatersloshesasshetwistsandrollsover.Sheraisesherselfsobeautifully,andIchangeposition,

steppingtotheotherendofthebathwhereherassiswaitingforme.Ipickupthemoisturiserfromthe
shelf,andsquirtsomeontomyfingers.Shespreadsherkneesasfarasthey’llgo,andthecheeksofher
asspartforme.Herpussylipsdripunderneathher,sobeautifullypuffy.Irubthemoisturiseroverthetight
globesofherass,andshedoesn’tflinchasIpartthemtofindherpuckeredlittleasshole.Itwinksatme,
andIknowshe’snervous.

“Relax,”Itellher.“LetDaddywashyou.”
Shenods,letsoutagaspasIrunmyfingersacrosshertightlittlering.“Relax,”Irepeat,andshetries,

hermuscleslooseningasIrubthecreamalonghercrack.SheshiftsforwardwhenIsquirtadollopright
ontarget.“Begood,”Iwarn,andshehitchesback.

“Whatareyougoingtodo?”sheasks,andhervoiceiscrackly.Gloriousnerves.
“LetDaddyin,sweetheart.”Ipressmyfingertothatgorgeousvirginass,andit’sclenchedtight.So

fuckingtight.

“ButI’m…it’sdirty…whatifit’s…”
Ilowermyvoice.“Laine,beagoodgirl,letDaddyin.”
AmomentI’llsavourforever.Mybeautifulgirlrockingonherkneesasherbreathcatchesinher

throat.Hesitant.Divine.

Horny.
Herpussyclenches.Herassholewinks.
Andthenrelaxes.
“I’llbeagoodgirl,Daddy,”shesays.

AINE

’

GOING

toputhisfingersinthere,andIwantit.ItfeelssodirtybutIwantit.

DaddyNickwantstoputhisfingersinmyasshole,justlikeheputhistongueinthere.Buthisfingers

arebig.

Notasbigashiscock.
Ibreathe,andmakemyselfrelax,andhegroans.
He’shornyDaddyNickagain,andifmyweightwasn’tonmyarmsI’dputmyfingersbackthereand

touchmyself.Myclitistickling,littlesparksthatmakemybreathcomeoutraspy.

Ifeelhisfingerpressingagainstmyhole,anditfeelssohot.HepushesandImakeafunnylittlegrunt

asIfeelitslideinalittleway.

“Goodgirl,”hesays,anditmakesmefeelsowarm.
Hepushesagain,anditfeelssoweird,squelchyfromsoapashewriggleshisfingerthenslidesit

further,andIfeelhim,goingdeeper.ItfeelslikeIneedthetoilet.

Itellhimsoandheletsoutanotheroneofthosegroans,andIneedhimtotouchmypussysobadthatI

can’tstopmyselfmoving.

“Ohyes,”hewhispers.“That’sit.PushbackforDaddy.”
Ieasemyhipsbackanditfeelshot,likeapokerasitgoesdeeper.Igroanandsqueezemyeyesshut,

andIreallydoneedthetoilet.

“Daddy…mmm…I…Ineedto…”
“No,”hesays.“Youdon’t.”
Igaspashepushesagain,andithurts,justabit.Hekeepspushing,andIgritmyteeth,andthenhe’s

allthewayin,Iknowheis.Itdoesn’thurtanymore.Hewrigglesinsideme,andI’msquelching.He
pressesandwrigglessomemoreandIfeelitinmypussy.Itachesaflutteryache.

AndIlikeit.
Ireallylikeit.
“Beautiful,”hewhispers,andIfeelsoshy.“Howdoesthatfeel?”
Idon’tknowwhattosay.
“Howdoesitfeel,Laine?TellDaddy.”
HewrigglessomemoreandIamsoscaredI’mgoingtopooponhisfingerthatIclenchrealtight,and

thatmakestheacheinmypussysomuchworse.

Imoan,andIdon’tsoundlikemeatall.
“TellDaddy,Laine.”
“I…Ilikeit…”
“TellDaddyhowitfeelstohavehisfingerinyourass,sweetheart.”
Squirmy.It’ssohotandsquirmy…andamazing…
“Itfeels…”Isuckinbreathasheslidesitinandout.“Ah…Ah,Daddy…thatfeelssonice…”
Inandout,inandout,anditdoesn’thurt,notevenabit,notevenuncomfortablelikeitdidatfirst…
“That’sright,sweetheart,takeit.TakeitforDaddy.”
Imoveashemoves,thewatersplashingundermeasIjerkagainstDaddy’sthickfingerashesquirms

itinsideme,andthenthere’shisthumb,pressingagainstmypussy,rightagainstmyclit,andIcan’tstand
it,Ican’tstopgrunting.

“Daddy’sgoingtomakeyoucome.You’resuchagoodgirl,Laine,suchagoodlittlegirl.”
Ifeelonfire,myassclenchingandmypussytoo,andmybreathinrasps.“Daddy…Daddy,please…

don’tstop…don’tstop,Daddy…”

Idon’trecognisemyself,andIcan’tstop,can’tstopbeggingasherubsmeandpusheshisfingerin

andout.

Andthenthere’smore…Ifeelanotherfinger,andIgroanbutdon’tstopmoving…andithurts,aburn

ashepushesthatoneintoo.

“Daddy’sgoingtofuckyourass,Laine,”hegrunts.IwonderifhemeansrightnowandIdon’tcare.

HecouldputanythinginthereandIwouldn’tcare.“Soon,sweetheart,soonDaddy’sgoingtogiveyouhis

cock.”

“Please…”Ihiss.“OhGod,Daddy,pleasedon’tstop!Pleasedon’tstop!”
Islamforwardashemakesmecome,sloppingwaterovertheside,andmyhairisslimywith

conditioner,pressedtomycheekasDaddyfucksmewithhisfingersandmyassburnsandtightens.I’ma
shudderymess,mymouthopenashekeepscirclingmyclit,andIwanthiminme.Iwanthiminmypussy.

IwantDaddy’scockinsideme.
“Yes…”Iwhisper.“Oh,Daddy,yes…”
Ijerk,andwriggleandhiss.Hisfingerskeeponfuckingmyass.MyclitticklesandpulsesandIcry

out,mylegstrembling.

AndthenI’mdone.
Ibreathe.
Hepullshisfingersoutwithasquelch,andmyassfeelsopenwide.Icanfeelwherehe’sbeen.
Hegivesmyassaslap.“Timetowashthatconditionerout,”hesays.
Irolloverandtipmyheadbacklikeagoodgirl.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

AINE

TOWELS

medryandhelpsmeintomyknickersandnightdress.Mysocks,too.Hegetsmeaglassof

warmmilkandtakesmethroughtothesittingroom,patshiskneeashelowershimselfintoanarmchair,
andIjoinhim,myasspressingintohislapashisarmswrapmeupandholdmetight.

Hislipspresstomyshoulder.“Yousmellsoclean,Laine.Sweet,likecherries.”
HebreathesinmydamphairandIstillcan’tbelievethisisreal.Ican’tbelievethatsomeonereally

lovesmelikethis.

Hetakesabrushfromthesidetableanditsbristlesfeelsoniceagainstmyscalpasheworksit

throughmyhair.He’sgentle,butfirm,longsmoothstrokestomyshoulderblades,pullinglooseanyknots
withshort,sharptugs.He’sdonethisbefore.

I’msurprisedwhenhesplitsmyhairintothree,hisfingerssoquickatplaitingthelength.Ihearthe

twangofahairbandfromhiswristandhetiestheend.

“Wavycurlsinthemorning,”hetellsme.“Likeanangel.”
“Thanks,DaddyNick.”
DaddyNick.
Nick.
Usinghisnamethatwayismyonepatheticsafeguardofbeing…Idunno…beinghislover,notjust

hislittlegirl.Iwanttoclingontothat,andIguessit’sfear.Fearofhimseeingmeasjustababy.That’s
whatIfeellike,hisbabygirl.

AndIlovethat.
Ireallylovethat.
ButIwanttobehislover,too.
Hisactuallover.
“You’retense,”hecomments.“What’sup,sweetheart?”
“Nothing,”Isay.
Hesighs.“Nosecrets,Laine.”
Ishrug.“IguessI’mjustscared.”
“Ofwhat?”
“OflovingbeingyourlittlegirlsomuchthatitbecomeseverythingIam.”Myownhonestysurprises

me.

“Wouldthatbesobad?”

Ishrugagain.Ipicturethekindofwomenheworkswith.Important,smartwomen.Successfulwomen.

Grownupwomen.

“Thisisforkeeps,”hewhispers.“Youandme.”Hischinrestsonmyshoulder,hisbreathwarm

againstmycheek.“NowthatI’vefoundyou,Laine,I’mnoteverlettingyougo.”

“Andthat’swhatyouwant?Alittlegirl…totakecareof…”
“Iwantyou,”hesays.
ItwistuntilIcanfacehim,andhiseyesaresowarmandkind.“IfeellikeIcouldstaylikethis

forever.Nevergrowup.Buthowcouldthatwork?”

Hetrailsafingerdownmycheek.“You’rethinkingtoomuch,sweetheart.Worryingunnecessarily.”
Butterfliesagain,somanybutterflies.“IguessI’veneverhadtoworryaboutlosinganythingbefore.

Neverhadanythingworthkeeping.”

“Youwon’tlosethis,Laine.Findingyoumadelifemeansomethingagain.”
Ismile.“Itdid?Really?”
“Really.”Hiseyessmilebackatme.“Now,stopyourworryinganddrinkyourmilk.It’sbedtime.”
Iburymyfaceintohisneckwhereitfeelssonice,andheholdsmetightandkissesmyhairwhileI

breathehimin,andmybutterfliescalmtheirflapping.

“Thanks,Daddy.”

WAKE

upfromahorriblenightmare.AhorriblenightmarewhereNick’sintroducingmetomynew

mummy.Andshe’sbeautiful,andstylishandsmartandallgrownup.

She’swearingheelsandredlipstick,andcarriesabriefcase,andhersmileispearlywhiteasshe

holdsoutahandtome.

He’sstillsleepingsoundlywhenIopenmyeyes,hisbreathingcalmandsteady,hischesttomyback.I

don’twanttowakehim,soIdon’t.JustsnuggleintohisarmsandtellmyselfI’mbeingstupid,thatbeinga
little-ydoesn’tmeanI’mnotaproperlover.Wecantalk,aboutthings.Grownupthings.

IcouldlearntobelikeKellyAnne,andputonsomelipstickandsomesexyunderwearandshowhim

I’mawoman.

IfIwantedto.
Andthat’sthething.I’mnotsureIwantto.
Ilovethewayitfeelstobehislittlegirl.Ilovehownaughtyitfeels,andhowsafeIfeel.
Ilovehowitmakeshimgrunt,andmakeshiseyessodark,andhiscocksobigandhard.
IloveDaddyNick.
Andthat’swhatI’mreallyscaredof.Oflovingsomeoneasmuchasthissoquickly.BecauseifIcan

lovehimthismuchalready,whenIdon’tevenknowhim,notreally,howmuchamIgoingtolovehim
whenI’musedtohimbeingmyeverything?

Heshiftsinhissleep,andhisarmstightenaroundmywaist.
He’salreadymyeverything.Allotherthingsfeelsofaraway.Myoldhouse,myoldbabysitting

routine,KellyAnneandherchitchat.Mymum…

Ihaven’tevengivenhermynewnumber,andshehasn’ttriedtoreachme.Nopingonsocialmedia,or

desperatemessagethroughKellyAnne.Nothing.

IexistonlytoNick.
Andthat’swhereIwanttostay.Forever.Righthere.
Inhislittlegirl’sbedroom,withitspinkwallsanditscomfybedanditsprettythings.
Sugarandspiceandallthingsnice.
That’swhatI’llbemadeof.

AndDaddyNickwilllovemeforit.Forever.
Justlikehewould’velovedhisownlittlegirl.

ICK

ROUTINE

BLISSFUL

,Laine’sandmine.Pullingfreefromherarmsinthemorningtoshowerandcook

herupsomebreakfast.Droppingheratcollegeandkissingherhairandtellinghertohaveaniceday.Her
sweetvoiceatlunchtime,ourtelephonecalllikeclockwork,oneonthedot.Herjoyfulrecountingofher
daywhenIpickherup.Thequietbeautyofhercompletingherassignmentsatthedinnertable.

Oureveningmeal.Ourgentleconversations.
Thechoresshe’stakenupnaturally.Loadingthedishwasherafterourmeal.Settingthetableforthe

next.Droppingherclothesinthelaundryhamper.Fasteningupmycufflinkswithasmile.

LaineiseverythingIcouldhavewishedfor.She’sstraightfrommydreams.
Andshe’smine.
Allmine.
Myinnocent,perfectlittlegirl.
Butthere’sadirtinessbehindhersexualnaivety.Anaughtylittlegirlbehindherangeleyes.
It’sinthewayshewrigglesandsquirmsandmoansformytongue,formykisses,formydirtyfingers

inherass.Shebegslikeshe’swantonandstarved,andit’sabalmtomyfilthysoul,takingallofmy
restraintnottospearhertightlittlevirginpussywhenevershe’sspreadunderneathme.Shetakes
everythingDaddygivesher,andstillherassgrindsagainstmycockinthenight,wantingmore.Always
wantingmore.

Andtonight’sthenightshe’sgoingtogetit.

RIDAY

NIGHT

WAS

ALWAYS

myplan.Anunexpectedsurpriseformysweetheartafteralongweekatcollege.

She’snonethewiserasIcollectherfromthecollegegates,tellingmeallaboutherdayasshepiles

intothepassengerseat.KellyAnnethis,andKellyAnnethat.AlwaysthatcowKellyAnne.

Isaynothingtonight,justsmilesoftlyuntilsherealisesI’mquieterthanusual.
“Whatisit,Daddy?”Hereyesaresoadoringlyworried.
“I’mtakingyouout,”Itellher.“Anywhereyouwanttogo.Mytreat.”
Hergrinismagical.“Ourfordinner?”
Inod.“Anywhereyouwanttogo.”
Icanfeelherstewing,contemplatingheroptions,andIknowherwellenoughbynowtoknowshe’s

wonderingwhatIwanttodo,whereI’dliketoeat.

“Whereyouwanttogo,Laine,”Itellher.“We’llgowhereIwanttogoadifferentnight.”
“Okay,”shesays,andIfeelhereyesonme.Iknowthesmileonherlips,thehintofdevilment.

“Milkshakeandaburger.Fries,too.”

Iknewit.IlaughasItellherasmuch.
“Adrivethrough!”sheexpands.“Ohplease,DaddyNick,canwegotoadrivethrough?”
“Andeatgreasyfriesinourlovelycleancar?”
Shenods.“Please,please,please!”
“Ifthat’swhatyouwant.”

Shegrins,bouncesinherseat.“Itis!It’sexactlywhatIwant!”
“Thenadrivethroughitis,”Itellher.

MAKE

herdoherhomeworkbeforeweheadouttoeat,andthere’sathrillofexcitementinhersmile

whichmakesmebothsohappyandsadinparallel.Suchasimplepleasure,andyetitmeanssomuchto
mysweetLaine.

SheskipsouttothecarwhenItellherit’stimetogo.Hercheeksareflushedandhersmileisbright.
“I’msolookingforwardtothis,”shetellsmeasshebucklesherselfin.
“So,what’sontheLaineSeabournemenuforthisevening?Burger,fries,milkshake?Howaboutsome

ofthosechickennuggetsontheside?”

Shenods.“Andanapplepie,too?Pleasecanwehaveanapplepie?”
“Wecanhavewhateveryouwant,sweetheart.Tenapplepiesifyoulike.”
Sheletsoutasqueal.“Alargemilkshake!Maybeeventwo!”
“Andlargefries,extralargefries.Doublefries.Friesonfries.”
Shelaughs.“Andwhatwillyouhave?”
Ishrug.“Idon’tusuallyeatfastfood,I’lltakeyourguidance.”
“Don’tworry,DaddyNick,”shegiggles.“I’llhelpyouout.”
Shedoeshelpmeout,leaningacrossmetoreachthedrivethroughintercomanddishingouttheorder.

Herhandrestsonmythighandmycockstrainsassheletsthemknowwewantextraeverything,andshe
doesn’twantgherkinonherburgerandneitherdoI.

SheclapsherhandsasIeasethecartowardsthecollectionpoint.
“Thankyou,”shesays.“YouhavenoideahowmuchIlovethisstuff.”
“I’mgettingthepicture.Wecandothiseveryweekend,ifyouloveitsomuch.”
Hereyeswiden.“Everyweekend?Seriously?”
“Seriously.Ifyou’reagoodgirl.”
Shelurchesfromherseatandwrapsherarmsaroundmyneck,asthoughI’vejustproposedmarriage.

Mystomachlurchesandmydicktwitchesandthere’sagloriouspanginmyheart.

“Thankyou,DaddyNick.”
Isqueezeherkneeaswereachthecollectionwindow.“It’sjustabitoffastfood,Laine.Ihaveso

manyamazingpleasurestoshowyou,Ipromise.We’lldoitall,sweetheart.Everything.Fastfoodwillbe
thelastthingonyourto-dolist.”

Ipassherthetrayoffoodandthankandpaytheattendant,andthenIparkupinthecarparkasLaine

instructs,andIgenuinelyhavenoideawhywedidn’tjusteatin.Itellherso.

“It’sdifferentinthecar,”shetellsme.
“Howso?”
Sheshrugs,herfingersbusysortingoutourorder.“Becauseadrivethroughis…cooler…”
“Cooler?”
“Yeah,more…Idunno…”
Ilaughasacoupleoffriesspillbetweenherkneesandlandinthefootwell.“Moremessy?”
Shegiggles.“Well,yeah.Thattoo.Butit’smagical,gettingyourorderandeatingitonyourlapinthe

car.”

I’mnotsureIseethemagicingettinggreasealloveryourdashboard,butIsmileregardless.“Didyou

dothiswithyourmum?”

Sheshakesherhead.“Withacoupleofherboyfriends,whenitwasallnew.Youknowhowitgoes.

Newguy,wantstoimpressthekid,takesthefamilyoutforburgers,readsabedtimestory.Getsbored

afteraweekandsendsthekidtobedearlyeverynightuntiltheygetboredofthemumtooandvanishinto
thehorizonforever.”

Idon’tknowhowitgoes.Idon’tknowatall.“That’srough,Laine.”
“It’salright,”shesays.“Ididok.Ihaditprettygood,loadsofotherkidshaveitwayworse.”
Ikeepquiet,unwrappingthethingthatcouldonlylooselybedescribedasaburgerandcontemplating

howshecanpossiblyfindsomuchpleasureinthis.

Shegivesadelightfulgroanasshebitesintohers,alookofblissonherfacethatIhopeI’llremember

forever.

“Good?”Iask.
Moregroans.Shenodsherhead,chewsthenswallows.“Betterthangood.Amazing.”
Ibiteintomine.It’sactuallynotthatbad,ifyoulikethetasteofprocessedplastic.Hereyesquestion

me,andIhaven’tthehearttotellherso.“Good,”Isay,andshelaughs.It’srawandrealandbeautiful.

“Liar!”
Iholdupmyhands.“Really,it’sgood,”Ilieagain.
Hereyessparkle.Shehandsmemymilkshake.“Trythis.You’lllikethis.”
It’sthickandslurpy.Moresugarthansubstance.
“So?”sheprompts.“It’sgood,right?”
Itipmyhead.“It’sbetterthantheburger.”
“Ilovemilkshake.It’sthebest.”
Ican’tresist,notwhenIseeherhollowcheeksasshesucksinrapture,hereyelashesflutteringasshe

takesagreedymouthful.

“I’mgladyouthinkso,”Itellher.“BecauseDaddy’sgotamilkshakeofhisowntogiveyoulater.”
Itrytokeepmyfaceimpassive,trytostaystern,andserious,butherwideeyestickleme.Ilaugh.

Properlylaugh,rightfromthebelly.

“Gross,”shesays,butshe’slaughing,too,anditfeelssogoodtoletitallout,toseehumourina

worldthatusedtobesogrey.

Ifeelaliveagain.
Itdriesupslowly,asoftgiggleassheturnsherattentionbacktohermeal,andI’mstaringather,all

thoughtoffoodlonggone.

“Tonight,”Itellher,andittakesheramomenttoregistermyintention.
“Tonight?Really?!”
Inod.“Really.Homejustassoonaswe’vefinished.”
Shepauses,afryhalfwaytohermouth,thendropsitbackinthecartonandbundlesthefoodbackin

thepaperbagasIwatch.

“Finishyourdinner,”Isay.“There’snorush,sweetheart.”
Butshedoesn’tstop.Notuntilit’sallaway.
Shetakesmyhand.Squeezesmygreasyfingerswithhers.“Pleaselet’sgohome,Daddy.I’mnot

hungryanymore.”

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

ICK

’

NERVOUS

.Icanfeelit,herfingerssqueezingminesotightlyasIleadherupstairs.I’dplannedtotake

herinmyroom,inmybigbedlikeabiggirl,butthetemptationtotakeherinnocenceinprettypinksheets
istoomuchtobear.Shetakesabreathasshestepsthroughthedoorway,andhersmileissobright,trying
toohardtobeconfident.Herraspybreathgivesheraway.

IclosethedoorbehindusandmybeautifulgirlfacesmeasIflickonthelamp.Herhandsareclasped

infrontofher,sounsure.

Ishrugoffmyjacketandhangitonthebackofthedoor.Iloosenmytieslowly,andunbuttonmyshirt

asshestaresatmewithwideeyes.

“UndressforDaddy,”Itellher,andhernervousfingersareajoytowatch.Theyditherastheypull

hertopoverherhead,fumbleastheypopthebuttononherjeansandeasedownthezipper.Shewriggles
outofthemandstandsbeforemeinjustherunderwear.Herbraissounderstated,onlythetiniestfrillof
laceonplainwhite.Hernipplespokethroughthefabric,tinylittlepeaksthatmakemymouthwater.

“TurnforDaddy,letmeseeyou.”
Shesmilessoshylyasshedoesatwirl,hershouldersbackandproud,eventhoughI’msureherheart

isracinginherchest.Herassisadelight,tightyoungvirgincheeksjustbeggingtobespanked.Adirty
partofmewishesmysweetLainewasanaughtygirl,butthere’llbeopportunityforpunishmentingood
time.Eventhemostadorablelittlegirlscan’talwaysbeangels.

I’mbeginningtoreadherexpressions.Thetinytwitchinthecornerofhersmile,theflutterofher

eyelashes,thestareshegiveswhenshe’ssoeagerforpraise.

“Beautiful,”Itellherasshefinisheshertwirl.
Shebreathesoutasighofrelief.“Thanks,DaddyNick.”
“It’sjustDaddytonight,”Itellher,andshenods.
“Okay,Daddy.”
Iundomycufflinksandshrugoffmyshirt.HermouthisopenasItakeoffmybelt,herweightshifting

fromfoottofootasIlowermytrousers.

Mycockissoreadyforher,ballssofuckingtightatthethoughtoftakinghersweetlittlevirginpussy.

Ifeellikeastarvingman,mouthwateringoveratastypieceofraresteak.Tender,perfect,innocent.

Thebeastinsidewantstotakeherroughandfast,toshowherwhoshebelongstoandinstilsome

disciplinerightfromthestart.ButI’mabettermanthanthat.

HerarmsarewaitingasIstepintothem,hersweetfingerstwistinginmyhairasIkissherpretty

mouth.ShemurmursasIgivehermytongue,hersdancingsuchadelicatedance,thenshemoansasmy
fingerstrailupherbellytosqueezeatthoselittlebuttonnipples.

Myhornygirliswetforme.Shegrindsagainstmybarethighandthecottonofherknickersissoaking

through.Shehumpsmesosweetly,asquirmylittlepackageofneed,butIeaseheraway,pressingmy
fingertoherlipsassheprotests.

“Allingoodtime,sweetheart.Easynow.RelaxforDaddy.”
Iwalkhertothebed,andshefallsbackwithoutinstruction.Hergreedylittlefingersrubatherclit

throughhersoddenknickers.Thefabrichighlightsherlittlepinkslitsofuckingbeautifully.

“Dirtygirl,”Igrunt,andworkmycockslowly,fromballstotip.She’sstaringatthelengthofme,and

thosenervesaresoplaintosee.“AreyoureadyforDaddy,Laine?”

Shenods.“I’mready,Daddy.Reallyready.”
HerfingerskeepplayingasIkneelontothebedalongsideher,circlingherclitsoeagerlyuntilIpush

themasidewithmyown.Ipressthemintoherslit,stretchingthatcottonfabricbetweenherpussylipsas
shesqueezeshereyesshut.

IknowIshouldtakeitslowly.IknowIshouldtakeherwithmyfingers,onebyone,untilherpussyis

openandwilling.Iknowthat’swhatagooddaddyshoulddoforhislittlegirl,butrightnowIdon’tfeel
likesuchagooddaddy.

Iwantmycocktobethefirstthingshefeels.Iwantmycocktobethethingthatbreaksher.Iwanther

tofeelhowbigandhardDaddy’scockisforhisgorgeouslittlegirl.

“Whatisit,Daddy?”Hersweetsmilemakesmycocktwitch.
“It’snothing,sweetheart,”Itellher,resigningmyselftobethebetterman.
Butshewon’tletitgo.Shehitchesherselfuponherelbows,hereyessowide.
“AmIdoingsomethingwrong?I’mnotsurewhattodo…”
Shelooksscared.There’sashakeinhervoice.
“Takingmytime,Laine.That’sall.Justrelaxforme.”Istrokehersoftthighandslipmyhandinside

herknickers.Shemoansandrelaxestothebed.

“Daddywantshiscocktobethefirstthingyoufeelinsideyou,Laine.Daddywantstofeelyourtight

littlepussystretchforhimfortheveryfirsttime.”

Herhandpressesontomine,rightbetweenherlegs,urgingmyfingerstoherhornylittleclit.
“Iwantthattoo…”It’sbarelymorethanamurmur,andit’snotenough.
“It’llhurt,”Itellher.“Daddy’scockisgoingtohurtunlessImakeyoursweetlittlepussyreadyfor

it.”

“ButI…”shewhispers.“Idon’tcare…Iwantwhatyouwant…”
Ismile.“No,sweetheart.We’lldothisright,foryou.”
Sheshakesherhead,keepscoaxingmyfingersbetweenherlegs.“You’vegivenmesomuch,Daddy.I

wanttogiveyouthis…me…howeveryouwantit…Iwantittobegoodforyou,Daddy…”

Idon’tsayaword,justkeepcirclingthattightlittlebuduntilsheshudders,soclosetocoming,so

beautifullyclose.

“Please,Daddy…please…”Herrequestissobeautifulinherinnocence,herdesiretopleasemethe

mostmagicaltreasure.“Iwantit,Daddy,Ipromise…”

“Letmemakeyoucome,”Itellher.“Let’smakeyouniceandwetforDaddy’scock.”
She’salreadysopping.Delicioussquelchesfromherpussymakemycocksohard.Ilowermyself,

untilmymouthhoversoverhersoftlittlemound.Ipullherknickersdownherclammythighsandshe
wrigglestohelp.Thescentofherisdivine.Ibreatheherin,mynosepressedintothosesoftlips,nudging
atherclituntilshegasps.

Ispreadherwithmyfingers,andsuckthattightlittlenubintomymouth,suckhardandsteadyuntilher

hipsarethrustingandherfingersaretuggingatmyhair.

Iwrapmyarmsunderherthighsandholdhertighttomymouth,mytonguelappingatherslitasshe

moans.Isuckagain,andit’senoughtomakehercryout,andthenshetumbles,jerkingundermeasshe
comes,herheelskickingatthebedcovers,backarchedassheridesthewaves.

“Oh,Daddy…yes…yes…”
She’ssofuckingbeautifullikethat.HerpussyclenchesasIlickthewetnessfromherswollenclit,and

Ipepperherthighswithgentlekisses,rightthewaydowntohertoes.

Hereyesarehoodedandadoring.Shelayssostillforme,socalminhervulnerability.
Trust.It’sabeautifulthing.
Itakeheranklesandpositionthematmyhips.Ispreadherthighs,andshemoansasIteaseopenher

pussylips,splayingherniceandwide.Isoakinthesightofheruntouchedlittleholeforthelasttime,the
delicatepinkofherhymenthemostpreciousgiftI’llevertake.

Ishouldsayit,soIdo.“Weshoulduseprotection,”Itellher.“Idon’twanttoputyouinasituation,

Laine.”

Shedoesn’tflinch.“Youmeanababy?Youdon’twanttoriskababy?”
Ilaughgently.“It’snotaboutwhatIwant,Laine.It’saboutyou.What’srightforyou.”
Herquizzicalexpressiongivesmethestrangestrush.“Butwouldyou?Imean,notrightnow.Imean,

intheory…”

Thisreallyisn’tthetime,notwithmyswollencockburstingtotakehervirginity.“I’llgiveyou

whateveryouwant,Laine,butit’salwaysgoingtobeyourdecision.”

“You’dgivemeababy?Ifthat’swhatIwanted?”Shelookssosurprised.I’msurprisedshe’sso

surprised.

“Ifthat’swhatyouwanted,sweetheart.”Ismile.“ButIcanusesomething,fortonight,tobesafe.”
ShegripsmywristasIbegintomoveaway,andIstop.Wait.
“Pleasedon’t,”shewhispers.“Pleasedon’tuseanything.Iwantittobeyouinsideme.Justyou.”
“Ifyou’resure.”
Shenods.“I’mreallysure.”
Myheartfeelsfittoburst.Myballsstraining,cockachingtobeburiedinsidemysweetlove.I

squeezehercutelittletits,andthethoughtisthereunbidden.Thethoughtofthoselittlebreastsswollen
withmilk,herbellystretchedwithourbaby.Ababyinsidemygorgeouslittlegirl.

Shetakesabreath.“Iwantyousomuch,Daddy.”
“AndIwantyou,Laine.Soverymuch,sweetheart.”
Iliftherkneestoherchestfortheperfectviewofhergorgeouscunt.She’sshaking,andshesmilesas

Irealise.

“I’mnotscared,”shetellsme.“It’sjuststupidnerves.”
“Alittlebitofpain,sweetheart,that’sall.It’llfeelgoodafterthat,Ipromise.”
Ipressthetipofmydicktoherslit,rubitbackandforth,teasingitinsidejustalittle.Ilovetheway

she’ssopinkandpuffy,thewayherlipssplayaroundmycock.Ieaseforward,andit’stight.Sofucking
tight.

Shemoansandgripsatthebedsheets.
I’mhardlyinandshefeelssofuckingdivine.Ittakeseveryscrapofrestraintnottoshuntmylengthall

theway.Slowly,anagonisingtensionasIpositionmyselfforgreaterleverage.Herpussyopens,she
squeaksasmyswollenheadsinksinside.

“Ow,Daddy,that’sbig…it’sreallybig…”
Imovemyhips,tinynudges.“Letmein,sweetheart.LetDaddyloveyou.”
ShetakesabreathandIpushharder.Hardenoughtogainaninch.Inearlyshootmyfuckingload,

she’ssofuckingtight.

Shewhimpers.She’stense,herwholebodytense.

“JustrelaxandletDaddyin,Laine.BeagoodgirlforDaddy.”
Istaystill,wait,butwhenhereyesmeetminetheyarefullofdetermination.
“Doit,Daddy,”shehisses.“Doit!”
Hertonethrillsme,myballstighten.“TellDaddywhatyouwant,Laine.Tellme.”
Hergazeisquestioning,curious.
“Tellme,Laine.BeadirtylittlegirlforDaddy.”
Shetipsherheadback,andsmilesthroughthenerves.
ThegirlknowsexactlywhatIwant.
“Fuckme,Daddy…pleasefuckme…”
Athrust.Onehardfuckingthrustandshesquealsasherpussytakesmein.Iwatchmyselfsinkintoher,

savourthemagicalmomentImakehermine.Thatmagicalmomentherhymenbreaksandshesqueals
againandshuddersandswearsunderherbreath.

“Ow…”shemewls.“Ah…ah…ow…ow,ithurts!”
Butit’sdone.I’min,mycockburieddeepinthattightlittlesnatch.Ieasedownontoher,hersweet

titsmashedtomychest,andherlegswrapmeup,herarmstoo.

“Goodgirl,”Iwhisper.“You’resuchagoodgirl.Daddy’ssoproudofyou,Laine.”
Shenods,andIpressmymouthtohers.Shekissesmesogently,squeakingasImove,inandout.
“Letithappen,”Itellher.“Takeitandit’llfeelgood,Daddypromises.”
Longslowthrusts,andIwon’tlastlong.Herpussysucksmetight,strainingtomilkmefuckingdry.
MybreathishardandfastasIfighttheurgetopoundherdeep.
Andthenshewhimpers,andthistimethere’snopaininit.Herhipsmoveundermine,thebed

creakingasshegrindsbackatme.

“Yes,Daddy,”shewhispers.“More,Daddy…please,givememore…”

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

AINE

ADDY

INSIDE

,andithurts.Ithurtenoughtotakemybreathwhenhepushedallthewayin,butIlove

it,Ilovethewayitfeels.

Daddy’sbigcockmakesmefeelsotender,butIwantit.Iwantallofhim.
“More,Daddy…”Iwhisper.“Please…please,more…”
Helikesthat.HelikesitwhenIbeg.Hegrunts,andkissesme,andhistongueisfierceandwet.My

bodyhasamindofitsown,wrigglingunderhimlikeIknowwhatI’mdoing.Mypussywantstotakehim,
myhipsrollingfromthebedtomeethisthrusts,anditfeelsgoodunderthepain.

“Yes,Daddy!Likethat!Likethat!”
Hemovesfaster,harder,andIholdmybreath.He’ssodeep.Icanfeelhisballsslappingagainstmy

ass,anditmakessuchadirtynoise.

“You’vegotaperfectlittlecunt,Laine,”hegrunts,anditmakesmegrindbackathim.
Ican’tthinkstraight,andIguessthatmustbenormal.I’mjustabundleofcrazysensations,justagirl

whowantsherDaddy’scock.Iwantnothingelse.Justhim.

“Harder,Daddy!”
Imustbecrazytosayit,andImoanasheslamshisdickinandout.I’mmakingsquelchynoises,andI

cansmellit,sex.DaddyissweatyandIamtoo,hishairisclammyasItouchit,hislipssaltyastheypress
tomine.

Hegrunts,inarhythm,andhisballsslapmyflesh,hisdicksodeepandmypussysosore.Ican’tstop

smiling.

I’mnotavirginanymore.
I’mabiggirlnow.AbiggirltakingDaddy’snicebigdick.Awoman.I’mawoman.
Heshiftsontopofmeanditchangeseverything.
“Ah…”Igroan.“Yes…”
Apressureinside,andatingle.
“That’sit…”hewhispers.“Thatfeelssonice…”
Itdoes.ItfeelssoniceIcan’tstandit,squirmingandwrigglingandpanting.
HepullshisdickallthewayoutandmypussyfeelssoemptythatImoan.
Imoanagainasheslidesbackinside.
Overandover.Allthewayout,andallthewayin.
“Please,Daddy…”I’msuchamess,asweatyhornymess.

Hecircleshishipsanditfeelsamazing.Betterthanamazing.
“Daddy’sgoingtocomeinsideyou,”hesays,andmyheartraces.“Daddy’sgoingtofillyouup.”
“Yes!”
Hesaidhe’dgivemeababy,andthethoughtmakesmeshiverhappyshivers.IwantDaddyNickto

comeinsidemeandmakemepregnant.Ididn’tevenknowIwantedit,notforasecond,butnowhe’ssaid
itI’msoexcitedIwanttoexplode.

“It’scoming,sweetheart.Daddy’scumiscoming…”
Yes.
Ifeelsoproud.
Helosescontrol,histhrustssoerraticanddesperate,andI’mdesperatetoo.Igriphimtightandmoan

forhim,andmypussywantsitall.Hekeepshisdickinsideme,alltheway,andIfeelhimpulsingand
jerking.I’msohappytoknowImadeDaddyNickcome.

“It’sallforyou,”hewhispers.“Daddy’scumisallforyou.”
Inod,andI’msmilingsohard.“Thankyou,Daddy.”
Hedoesn’tpullout,justcollapsesontomeashebreathessofast.Istrokehishair,andmyheadis

spinning,giddytoknowthatI’vereallydoneit.

He’ssmilingtoo.Hebreathesinmydamphairandholdsmetight.
“Myperfectgirl,”hewhispers.“Myperfect,beautifullittlegirl.”
I’msoproudIcouldburst.
Hesmoothsthehairfrommyforehead,andnuzzlesme,andIhopethisneverends,Daddyandme.
Thewordswon’tstayquiet.Ican’tkeepthemin.
“Iloveyou,Daddy.Ireallyloveyou.”
Hesighs,andit’sagoodsigh.Heraiseshimselfenoughtolookinmyeyes,andtheyaresowarm.
“Iloveyou,too,”hesays.

FEEL

likeI’mflying.

Helovesme.
AndIlovehim.
It’sreal.It’sallreal.
Hepullsoutsoslowly,sogentlenowhe’scome.Itrytomovebutheshakeshishead.Hekneels

betweenmylegsandspreadsmypussywithhisfingers.Ifeelsoopen.Shy,too.Ifeelsoshy.

“Youhavetheprettiestlittlepussy,Laine.Daddywantstoseeyouallfullupwithhiscum.”
Ifeeltheburnonmycheeks,andIgaspasheslideshisfingerinsideme.
“Sotight.”
Ifeelhisfingermovingaround,andthenanother.
“We’regoingtohavesomuchfuntogether,Laine.”
I’malreadyhavingmorefunthanI’veeverhad.Itellhimsoandhesmiles.
“Thisisonlythebeginning.”
Ibelievehim.Ican’twaittoseewhatelseDaddyNickhastoshowme.
Helowershismouthandkissesmewhereit’stender.“Thankyou,Laine,forthegreatestgift.”
“You’rewelcome,Daddy.”IbeamasIstareathim,andwonderhowIeverlivedwithouthim.I

wonderhowIeverthoughtmylifecouldmeananythingwithouthiminit.

Itmakesmewanttocry,thisloveIfeel.It’ssostrong,andsobeautiful.
Hedoesn’tseemtounderstandthetears.Hiseyesaresoworried.“I’msorry,sweetheart.Doesit

hurt?”

Ishakemyhead.“No,”Itellhim.“It’sallamazing,Ijust…myheartfeelssofull…”
Hepullsmeintohisarmsinabeat,andtheyholdmesotight,mycheektohischestasthehappytears

fall.

“Iloveyou,Laine,”hewhispers.“Youbroughtmebacktolife.”
“Yougavemealife.”
“Fate,”hesays,andIsmile.
Iwonderifhereallybelievesit,likeIdo.
AndthenIwonderifI’mpregnant.IwonderifDaddy’scumwillgivemeababy.
Hedoesn’tseemtobethinkingaboutit,soIdon’tsayanything.
“We’dbettergetyoucleanedup,”hesays,andInod.Ineedapeeanditfeelsallsquelchydownthere.

IonlynoticethestainonthebedwhenIgettomyfeet.

It’sdarkpinkwithsplotchesofred.Blood.Myblood.
Ifeelsorryforit,butDaddyissmiling.Hetouchesitlikeit’smagic.
“Youbledforme,”hesays.“Suchabeautifulgiftfromabeautifulgirl.”
Ithinkit’sbeautifultoo,inaweirdway.
KellyAnnewouldthinkIwascrazy.She’dthinkthewholethingwascrazy.ButIcan’twaittotellher

anyway.

Iwanttotellherhowamazingitfeelsnottobeavirginanymore.IwanttotellherhowDaddyNick

lovedmesohard.

ButfirstIneedtopee.

ADDY

ICK

FOLLOWS

meintothebathroom,hetakesmyhandsasIlowermyselftothetoilet,asthoughI

needhelp.Mylegsareunsteady,butnotthatunsteady.Iwaitforhimtoleave,buthedoesn’t.Hepulls
sometoiletpaperfromtherollandpressesitbetweenmylegs.

There’smorebloodwhenhewipesme.HeholdsthepapersoIcanseethestain.
“It’llstopsoon,”hesays,butI’mnotworried.I’mmoreworriedthatIneedapee.
“Ineedtogo,”Itellhim.
Hedoesn’tmoveatall.“Wehavenosecrets,remember?”
MycheeksburnatthethoughtofDaddyNickwatchingmepee.Eventhoughhe’sseeninsideme,and

feltinthere,andhiscumisdrippingoutofmerightnow,itstillfeelssoickytopeeinfrontofhim.

“Nosecrets,Laine,”herepeats.“Daddywantstosee.”
“Youwanttowatchme…pee?”Iaskhim,sureImustbewrong,buthenods.
“Daddywantstoseeeverything.”Heputshishandsonmykneesandpullsthemapart,andIcan’tgo,

notwhilehe’swatching.Atinylittletrickledripsintothetoilet,andhiseyesaredarkagain.

Ican’tbelievehewantsit,buthedoes.
Ifeelsoticklyatthethought.Squirmyasheputshisfingersdownthereandspreadsmeopen.
“ShowDaddy,Laine.”
“ButI…”
“Laine,”hesays,andit’sstern.“Nosecrets.”
Idon’twantsecretsfromDaddy.Eveniftheyareickyones.
Ihavetoclosemyeyestopee.It’ssohardtomakemyselfgo,butonceIstartIcan’tstop.Itcomesout

inastream,splashingintothewaterunderneath,andI’msuresomeofitmustgoonDaddy’sfingersbuthe
doesn’tcare.Itgivesmetickles.Strangeticklesrightthewaythroughme.

“Notsobad,isit?”heasks.
Ishakemyhead.“No,Daddy.”

Mypeesoundssoloudasitlands.Mycheeksfeelsohotashestares.
AndthenIfinish,andit’sarelief.Ireachforthetoiletpaperbuthe’stherefirst.Hetearssomeoffand

wipesme.DaddyNickwipesmypussyit’sthemostnormalthingintheworld.

Ishouldn’tlikeit.I’msureIshouldn’tlikeit.ButIdo.
“Allclean,”hetellsme,andhiseyesaresmiling.Hekissesmequickbeforehereachesfortheflush,

andhiscockishardagainashegetstohisfeet.

ImustlookscaredasIstareatit,becausehelaughsashepullsmeup.
“Bedtime,”hetellsme.“Ithinkmylittlegirl’shadmorethanenoughcockforoneday.”
I’monlyhalfrelieved.

ICK

IPING

AINE

’

sweetpussyisonlythetipoftheicebergwhenitcomestothewaysIwanttotakecareof

mylittlegirl.NowI’vehadatasteofhersecretsIonlywantmore.Iwanteverythingfromher.

It’sbeautiful,herwillingnesstopleasemeevenwhenshethinksI’mbeingsoicky.
IlovebeingickywithLaine.Lovepushingherboundaries.
Islideintobedbesideher,mycockalreadyhardformore,butitwon’tbetonight.She’stakenenough.
Shesighsasshesnugglesagainstme,andIkissherhair.“Goodnight,sweetheart.”
“Goodnight,DaddyNick.”
I’mDaddyNickagain,butthat’sok.Iholdhersotightandshedriftsofftosleepsomuchmore

quicklythanusual.Herbreathisquietbutsteady,andjustbeingnexttohersoothesme.Ineverwanttolet
hergo.

IlovemysweetlittleLainemorethanI’dhaveeverimagined.It’smorethandesperationforalife

lesslonelythantheoneI’vebeenlivingforsolong.

It’sinherquietgrace.Hersweetsmile.Hereasylaugh.It’sinthewayshe’ssokind,thewayshe

caresforme,looksuptome,thewaysheappreciateseverythingIdoforher.Thewayshe’ssokeento
pleaseme.Sokeentobemine.

IloveLainebecauseherbadstarthasn’tmadeherbitter,orhostile.Ithasn’tclosedherdowntolove

ormadehersuspicious.She’sstillasweet,softsoulwithawarmheart.

She’smybeautifulgirl.Theonebrightstaronacloudynight.
Idriftofftosleepsosoundlyinherarms.

CHAPTERNINETEEN

AINE

WAKE

upinDaddyNick’sarms.Nocollege.Nowork.Itmakesmesmiletofindhimstillsleeping.

I’mnotavirgin.I’mnotavirgin.I’mnotavirgin.
Ifeeldifferent.Squigglyinside.
Happy.
Irollovertofacehim,andhestirsbutdoesn’topenhiseyes.Istareathim,justbecauseIcan.It’sa

guiltypleasure,staringwithouthimknowing.LikeI’mspying,chasingsecretglances.

Helookssobeautifulinthemorninglight.Hisdarkeyelashes,hisperfectshadowofstubble.His

strongnose,hischeekbones.Hisbrowsaresowellshaped,serious,evenwhenhe’ssleeping.Thelight
makesthegreyathistempleslooksofine,justasmattering,anditdoesn’tmakehimlookold,notlike
KellyAnnethinks.Itmakeshimlooksoprofessional.

“Iknowyou’restaring,”hesays,andhiseyesopenintomine.“Goodmorning,sweetheart.”
Myheartflutters.“Morning,DaddyNick.”
Hedoesn’tmoveandneitherdoI.Welaystill,juststaring,andthere’sthesoftestsmileonhislips.
“Ihaven’tsleptininsuchalongtime,”hetellsme,andIcanbelieveit.He’salwaysupsomuch

earlierthanme.

Ismile.“It’srelaxing.Allwarmandsnuggly.”
“It’satightfit,thisbed.”Hestretchesouthislegstoillustrate,andhe’sright,itisatightfit,butIlike

itthatway.Itellhimsoandheholdsmetighter,squeezesmeuntilIgiggle,andthenhiseyesareserious
again.“Howdoyoufeel,Laine?”

“Good,”Isay.“Amazing.Youmadeitamazing.EverythingIeverdreamedof.”
“Yourkindwordsdowondersforaman’sego.”
ButDaddyNickdoesn’thaveanego.He’sstrong,butnotarrogant.Iknowplentyofarrogantpeople,

I’veknownthemmywholelife,thepeoplethatthinktheyknoweverything,thatthey’recoolerthan
everyone,betterthaneveryone.Betterthanme.I’veknownsomanypeoplewhothinkthey’rebetterthan
me.

ButnotDaddyNick.
“Areyouhungry,sweetheart?”
Itellhimno,becauseIdon’twanttomove,butmytummybetraysmeandrumbles.
“Ithinkyoumightbealittleliar,LaineSeabourne.”Hetapsmynose,andIcan’tstoplaughing.I

wonderifit’ssomekindofweirdpost-virginity-losingendorphinthing,becausemybodyfeelslight

enoughtofloataway.HethrowsbackthecoversandIgroanthroughthegiggles,buthedoesn’tcare.He
kissesmyforeheadbeforehedropshisfeettothefloor,andthenhe’sup.

MylaughterstopswhenIseehe’shard.ApangbetweenmylegsasIrememberhowhefeltthere.
HegrabshiscockasIstare.“Youcan’thonestlybesurprised,sweetheart.I’vebeeninbedwitha

beautiful,deliciousyoungwoman.”

Woman.
Hecalledmeawoman.
ItfeelsbetterthanIeverthoughtitwouldfeel.
“Areyougettingupwithme?”heasks,andInod.Eventhoughthesheetshaveembracedmeasoneof

theirown,Istillwanttogetupwithhim.IholdoutmyhandlikealazycowasIyawn,andhepullsme
up.IcanfeelthedifferencewhenIgettomyfeet,mypussysotender,andmylegswobbly.

“Allalright?”heasks.Hetakesmypinkrobefromthedoorandhelpsmeintoit.
“I’mgood,”Isay.“I’mjust…Ifeeldifferent…”
“Youfeellikeyou’vebeenfucked,”hesays.“You’llgetusedtothat,sweetheart.”
Ifollowhimashestepsoutontothelanding,keepingtohissidelikeashadow.Ifollowhimintothe

bathroomwithoutathought,andhesmilesaslysmile.

“Wantingtoreturnthefavour?”Ilookblanklyuntilhissmileturnsintoasmirk.“Daddyneedstotake

apiss,Laine.”Mycheeksburn,andIsayI’msorry,buthegrabsmyhand.“Ididn’tmeanyoushould
leave.Youdon’tneedtoleave,sweetheart.Notifyoudon’twantto.Nosecrets,remember?”

I’veneverseenamanpeebefore.Thethoughtexcitesme,eventhoughitmightbeicky.Ican’teven

imaginewhatKellyAnnewouldsay.

Hestepsovertothetoiletandliftstheseat,andhiscockisinhishand,stillalittlehardasheaimsat

thebowl.Istepcloser,andmymouthisdry.Itfeelsdirty.Nicedirty.

Thestreamcomesoutsofastwhenitstarts,anditmustfeelgood,becausehecloseshiseyesandlets

outagroan.I’mstillstaringwhenheopensthem,andhe’ssmirkingagain.Ifeellikesuchasillyidiot,and
maybeheknows,becausehetipshisheadandbeckonsmecloser.

“Don’tbeshy,”hetellsme.
HetakesmyhandandIjumpalittleashewrapsmyfingersaroundhisdick.I’mnotexpectinghimto

letgo,buthedoes.Hiscockjerksandmakesmestart,andpeespraysoffthesideofthebowllikecrazy.
Helaughs.“Steady,sweetheart.”

I’msurethisisn’twhatotherpeopledo,butI’mtransfixed.Ithalfmakesmewanttogiggleandhalf

makesmyclittingle,andI’mpositivethatmustmakemeadirtygirl,notthelittleprudeKellyAnnehas
medownfor.Thatmakesmestrangelyproud.Strangelygrownup.KellyAnnetellsmeeverythingabout
hersexlife,andthere’sneverbeenanythinglikethis.Butthenagain,there’sneverbeensomuchof
anythingDaddyNickhasshownme.Nobody’severputtheirtongueinKellyAnne’sassholeandtoldher
howgoodittastes.She’ddefinitelyhavetoldmeaboutthat.She’dhavebraggedforamonth.

It’sridiculouslyfun,aimingsomeoneelse’speearoundthebowl.Hiscockfeelsdifferentlikethis,

onlyhalfhard.He’sstillbigandveiny,butless…threatening.Idunnoifthreateningistherightword,but
it’lldo.

Thesprayeasestoatrickle,andthenjustadrip,andIwonderwhatIshoulddonext.Maybeshake

him,orwipehim?Idon’thaveaclue.Isqueezehiminstead,andittakeshimbysurprise.Hegrunts,and
shiftsonhisfeet,andthere’sathrillrightthroughmeasIfeelhimswellinmygrip.

“Dirtygirl,”hesays,andI’mbeginningtobelieveit.Mypussyclenchesanditfeelsdifferentthan

usual…tender,andachy,and…horny.Ikeepsqueezing,movingmyhandupanddownhimwiththe
sweetestsmileonmyfaceIcanmanage,andhelikesthattoo.Hecan’tstoplookingatme.

Hishandtightensaroundmine,andhemovesmeharder,faster.
“WanttojerkDaddyoffinthebathroom?Isthatwhatmydirtylittlegirlwants?”

Inod.Idowantthat.
IfeelmoreincontrolthanI’veeverfeltaroundhim,wrappeduptightinafluffyrobewhilehestands

naked,hisdickinmyhand.I’vebeenlearning,tryingreallyhardtodoitjustashelikesit,andit’s
working.Hisbreathisfast,andthemusclesinhisthighsaresotight,hiseyesstaringatmyfingersasthey
worksohard.

“That’ssogood,”hegroans.“That’sreallygood,Laine.”
Idon’tfeelsomuchlikehislittlegirlthismorning.I’mawoman,notaprudishlittlevirgin.I’mthe

onegivinghimallthepleasureashethrustsinmygrip.

“Youwanttomakemecome?Likethis?”
“Yes.”Myvoicesoundsmoreconfidentthanusual.
Hiseyesmeetmine,andIsmilebutdon’taddapleaseoraDaddyorevenaDaddyNick.Icantell

he’sthinkingaboutit,Icanseeitinhiseyes,buthedoesn’tsayanythingandItakeitassomekindofsilly
victory.Ican’texplainwhy,itjustis.

Notbeingavirginanymorehasdefinitelygonetomyhead.
InearlysnortgiggleatthethoughtofmeinsluttyunderwearandridiculouslyhighheelsasImorph

intosomesexsiren,butwhenhearcheshisbackandhiscocktwitches,everythingbecomessoserious.

I’mgoingtomakehimcome,withouthishelp,withouthimtakingover,orputtingitinmymouth,or

grippingmyfingersandshowingmewhattodo.

“Fuck,Laine,”hegroans.“That’ssofuckingnice.”
Myheartswellswithpride,knowingIcandothis.I’mnotsuchthesillylittleprudeIthoughtIwas.
MywristisachingbutIdon’tslowdown,Iconcentrateonthetipofhim,wherehe’sgettingwet,and

thatmakeshimgruntandswayandcurse.Ilovethewayitmakeshimcurse.

“Fuck,I’mclose,”hetellsme,butIalreadyknowthat,Icanfeelitinthewayhiscockjerks,inthe

raspofhisbreath.

Icouldexplodewithjoywhenthefirstspurtofcumsplattersthecistern.It’snotevenclosetothe

bowl,butthatdoesn’tmatter,DaddyNickisn’tevenlooking.Hiseyesarescrewedshut,hisvoicenothing
morethangruntsashespurtsagainandagain.

Imadehimcome.
Amilestonethatseemslikesuchabigdeal.
Ican’tstopgrinning.
“Youlooklikethecatwhogotthecream,”helaughswhenhe’sgatheredhisbreath.“Welldone,

sweetheart.Thatwasperfect.”

Perfect.
Mycheeksticklefromsmilingsobright.“Thanks.”
“I’llbeexpectingthatkindoftreatmenteverymorning,ifyou’renotcareful,”hesays,buthe’sjoking,

hiseyessparkle.“Now,let’sgoandgetyousomebreakfast,you’vecertainlyearnedit.”

Heslapsmyassashepassesmeby,andgrinsashegrabshisrobe.

HIS

ISN

’

themorningDaddyNickI’vecometoknow.HemakesbreakfastandhumsasongI’venever

heard.He’srelaxedtoday.TodayIhelphim,choppingupmushroomsashefriesthesausages,andgetting
thebreadreadyforthetoaster.

“Teamwork,”hesaysasIdropthemushroomsintothepan.
“Teamwork,”Iagree,andraisemyselfontiptoesuntilhepresseshislipstomine.
Thebaconsmellsincredible,andIreallyamravenous.Iletoutthemostcontentedsighaswesit

downtoeatourmeal,andhesmilesoveratmebeforehetucksin.

“Iusedtohatetheweekends,”hetellsme.“Theyfeltsoempty.I’dwork,justtofillthetime.”
“Minetoo,”Iadmit.“ImeanIbabysat,butKellyAnneisnormallybusyinthedaytime,andMum

wouldbeout.CrappyTVwasmyfriend.”

“Crosswordsweremine,”headmits.“Whentheto-dolistwascheckedoff,thatis.”
Thebacontastesasdeliciousasitsmells.Itellhimsoandhecomplimentsmeonhowthemushrooms

areslicedjustso.

“So,hereweare,”hesays.“Awholeweekendwithnowork,andnobabysitting.Whattodo,Laine?”
Ishrug.“Whateveryouwant.I’mhappyjustbeingherewithyou.”
“AndI’mhappybeingherewithyou,”hesays.“Butweshouldgoout,dosomething,livealittle.”
I’vebeenlivingplenty,butIdon’ttellhimthat.Igetthefeelinghe’sreallybreathingforthefirsttime

inforever,andIgetthat,becauseIamtoo.Likeabutterflybreakingoutofalonelycocoon.That’swhatI
feellike.

Likeabutterfly.
Butterflies.
Ihaveanidea.Agreatideathatgivesmeshivers.
“What?”heasks.“Wheredoyouwanttogo?”
Ishruglikeit’snothing.“Justsomewhere.Ineedtolookituponline.”
“We’llgowhereveryouwant,”hesays.“Mytreat.”
Butnottoday.Todaywillbemytreat.
Ikeepquietandeatmybreakfast,andhedoestoo.Helooksatmecuriously,asthoughhe’stryingto

readme,butIkeepapokerface,determinednottoruinthesurprise.Isowanttosurprisehim.

Iclearourplatesassoonaswe’redone.

CHAPTERTWENTY

ICK

’

BURSTING

totellmewherewe’reheaded,clutchingherphonesotightlyassherelaysthedirections

fromthenavigationsoftware.Hervoicebubbleswithexcitement.Asurprise,sheinsists.

Ican’trememberatimesomeonegavemeasurpriselikethis.NotevenLouisa.Louisawassweetand

vivacious,butshewasn’tthoughtful.IenjoyedspoilingLouisa,justasIenjoyspoilingmylittleLaine,but
thecreatureintheseatbesidemeisturningouttobeaverydifferentgirlaltogether.

“Don’tIgetaclue?”Iask.
Herhairshimmersassheshakesherhead.“No.You’lllikeit,though.AtleastIhopeyouwill.”
I’malreadylikingit.Beingwithherisenjoymentenoughallonitsown.
Ikeepmyeyesontheroad,nonethewiserofourdestinationasItaketheroadsshepointsout.
“Notfar,”shesays.“Takearight,uphere.”
Andthat’swhenIseeit.Abrowntouristsignontheroadside.ButterflyZoo.
“Crap.”Shegroans.“Ididn’tknowthatwouldbethere.Iwantedittobeasurprise.”
Butitisasurprise.It’ssuchasurpriseI’mlostforwords.IwasjustaboywhenIlasttookmynetand

disappearedintothecountrysidetoindulgemyfascinationwithbutterflies.

NowIonlyadmirethemdead.Somanylifelessspecimens,pinnedandmountedinframesonmywall.
Theexcitementinmystomachisboyishandunfamiliar.Aninnocencelongsinceforgotten.Buried,

withtherestofmylife.

“Youdowanttogo,right?”sheasks.“Youdostilllikethem?”
“Ilovethem,”Itellher,andmyheartpoundswiththethrillaswepullintothecarpark.
Iparkupinaspaceandturnofftheengine,thensit,staringinwonderatthebrightpaintedwingsover

theentrancedoors.

IwanttotellherhowstrangeIfeelinside,howherthoughtfulnesshasmovedmetonothingbut

stuntedsilence,butit’sallIcandotosmileandtakeherhandinmine.

Herfingerssqueeze.“They’vegotovertwohundredspecieshere.Somerareones,too.Ilookeditup

online.”

“Thisisreallysomething,Laine,”Itellher.
“So,let’sgo,”shesays.“Showmesomebutterflies.Ican’twaittosee.”
NeithercanI.
Wecheckinattheentrance,andasIpaythefeeIrambleontotheattendantwithanenthusiasmso

alien.IhandLainethecomplimentaryspotterpamphletwithasmile.

Iwon’tneedit.Iknowsomanybyheart.
Theplaceisn’tbusy,notonacoldDecembermorning.Thecrowdsaresparse,eventhoughtheglass

ceilingsbatheusinbeautifulwarmsunlight.Weenterthemainbutterflydomeunhinderedbyqueues.

Amassofexoticplants.Colourandlifeandbeatingwings.Thousandsuponthousandsofbutterflies

thatoverloadmysenses.Igawp,likeanimbecile,sotakenbythesightthatmybreathcatchesinmy
throat.

“Thisisamazing!”shesays,andit’sallIcandotonod.
Anemeraldandblackbutterflytakeslazyflightinfrontofus,itswingsbigandshimmeringwith

metallicbeauty.Lainefranticallythumbsthroughthespotterguide,butIstillherwithasqueezeofmy
handonhershoulder.

“Papilioblumei,”Itellher.“FoundonlyontheIndonesianislandofSulawesi.It’sapeacock,

otherwiseknownasagreenswallowtail.”

“It’sbeautiful,”shesays,andhereyesfollowitallthewayoutofsight.
“I’vegotoneonthewall.”
“I’veseenit.”Shesmiles.“Butit’ssomuchmorebeautifulwhenit’sflying,don’tyouthink?”
I’msurethere’snodeepermeaningintendedbehindherwords,butIfeelitnonetheless.
“Yes,Laine.It’ssomuchmorebeautifulalive.”
“Ifeelalive,”shetellsme.
“Metoo,sweetheart.Metoo.”
Iwanderamongsttheplants,leadingLainesogentlyalongthepathsmarkedout.Somanybutterflies,

andItellheraboutthemall.ItellhertheirLatinnamesandwherethey’refrom.Itellherifthey’re
endangered,andwhatsizestheygrowto.

Shelistensinwonder,hangingontoeverywordIsay.IthinkshemaylovethemnearlyasmuchasI

do.

Herstepsarelightandbouncy,hergaspsgenuine.“Thatone!”shesqueals,pointingupahead.“It’sso

beautiful!”

Anditis.
Ofcourseitis.
TheMaculineaArionisthelargestandrarestoftheblueEnglishbutterflies.Little,blue-eyedLaine

remindsmeofone–sobeautifulinherfragility.Sogracefulanddelicate.Suchararedelight.Itellher
so,andhersmilemeltsmyheart.

“That’sreallynice.”
“Andreallytrue,sweetheart.”
TheArionfluttersclose,andmybreathhitches,thethrillpalpable.Iseethebutterfly’spath,seeso

clearlythatit’sgoingtoland.Itcouldn’tbemoreperfect,anditmakesmeshiver.Fate,shewouldsay,
andI’mbeginningtobelieveher.Istepawayandtakeoutmyphone,justquicklyenoughtocallupmy
cameraapp.

Thebutterflydithersaroundherheadbeforeitlands,perchesandflapsitswingsonce,twice,three

timesbeforeitrests,soblueagainstLaine’spaleblondehair.Iwatchmybeautifulgirlcrownedbythe
beautifulbutterfly,myheartfulltoburstingassomanyothersflutteraroundus.

Hershockisdivine,herexpressionofwondersobeautifullyinnocent,andIknowitforcertain.Laine

willlovebutterfliesasmuchasIdo.Icanseeitinhereyes.

IcapturethemomentandIknowit’soneIwillsavourforever.

ALK

easyonthewayhome.Laineflicksthroughthespotterpamphletasthoughit’satreasured

possession,readingmeoutthenamesinLatintomakesureshehasthepronunciationright.Hersweet
voicemakesthemethereal.Magical.

Wonderful.
“Maybeyoucouldteachmehowtospottheminthewild,”shesays.“Itsoundsfun.”
“Harderworkthanthezoo.”Ismiletomyself.“It’sadifferentkindoffun,Laine,butnoless

enjoyable.”

“IthinkI’dlikeit,”shetellsme,andIdotoo.
AfewweeksagoI’dhavestruggledtoeverimaginemyselftrekkingintothecountrysidewithjarsand

nets,butnottoday.Todayanythingfeelspossible.

“Betterthancrosswords,right?”sheasks.
Thatmakesmelaugh.“Yes,Laine,considerablybetterthancrosswords.”
“BetterthanTV,too,”shesays.
Westopfordinneratafancylittlerestaurantontheoutskirtsofthecity,andIstareatherasshescours

themenu.

“Idon’tknowwhattochoose,”sheadmits.“Idon’tknowwhathalfthisstuffis.”
Islidemychairaroundtohersideofthetableandtalkherthroughtheoptions.Herhandrestsonmy

kneeunderthetableclothandsqueezes,andshe’ssoclose,sointoxicatinglyclose.Icansmellher
shampoo,andher,closeenoughtoenjoytheflutterofhereyelashesashereyeswanderoverthemain
courses.

“Ithinkweshouldgowiththewinterroast,”Itellher.
Shenods.“Thatsoundsgoodtome.”
ImovebacktomyownsideofthetablebeforeIgiveourordertothewaiter,andalreadyI’mmissing

hertouch.

“Whendidyouknowyoufirstlikedbutterflies?”sheasks,anditmakesmesmiletorealiseshe’sstill

thinkingaboutthem.

“Aschoolproject,”Itellher.“Infantschool,Imust’vebeenonlyfiveorsix.Aconservation

assignment,Britishwildlifeanditshabitat.WewentoutintothemeadowbehindtheschoolandIspotted
amonarchflutteringfromleaftoleaf.Iwasmesmerisedbyitscolours.OnceIstartedwatchingthemI
neverstopped.Myfatherboughtmeanetformybirthday,Ididn’tevenask.Itwasasurprise.”

“Thatwasniceofhim,toencouragethat.”
“Hewasafairman.Stern,butfair,”Itellher.
“Stern,”sherepeatswithasmile,andIknowexactlywhatshe’sthinking.
She’spicturingmyfather’sbeltonmybackside,theseverityofthepunishmentIreceivedinhisold

study.

“AsIsaid,sternbutfair.”Ipourheramineralwaterfromthejugonthetable.“AsIhopetobe.

That’swhatIaimfor,Laine,thatsamebalance.”

“Ihaven’tseenyoustern.Notyet.”
Ihandhertheglass.“Youwill,giventime.Whenit’snecessary,sweetheart,onlywhenit’s

necessary.”

“I’llalwaysbegood,Da-”Hervoicefalters,andIgetit.She’sunsurehowtoaddressmeinpublic.

DaddyNicksoundssofuckingcreepy.

Perverseandicky,asLainewouldcallit.Becauseitis.Itisicky.
Dirty.
It’sfuckingdirty.
Butmycock’salreadyhardatthethought.
Idon’tcarewhohearsusinthisplace,andthat’sanewfeelingtoo,thedisregardforappearances.My

professionalconductistheonlythinginrecentyearsI’vehadtoconcernmyselfwith,andthat’sformy

father’slegacyandthefirm’sreputationratherthananythingpersonal.

“It’sDaddy,sweetheart,”Itellher.
Shelooksuncertain,hercheeksflushing.“Inpublic?Ithoughtthiswas…”
“Youthoughtitwasathomeonly?”Iraiseaneyebrow.“Isthatwhatyouwant?”
Sheshakesherheadbutshedoesn’tseementirelysure.“Yousaidpeoplewouldn’tunderstand…

peoplelikeKellyAnne…”

“Andtheywouldn’t.Thecomplexityistooconfusing.”Ileancloser.“InthisplaceIcanbeyour

daddyoryourlover.Orboth.”Ismirk.“Itdependshowdevilishyoufeel.”

I’mjoking,buthereyestellmesheisn’t.Theyflashwithdarkamusement,andshewantsit.Iknow

shewantsit.

Interesting.
MysweetlittleLaineiscertainlyinteresting.
“I’llcallyouDaddy,”shewhispers.

AINE

I’

BURNING

upasthewaiterbringsourmeal.Thisisnewground,himbeingDaddyhere,aroundpeople.

Itmakesitseemsorealandsotingly.

Thewaitersmilesasheplacesmyplateinfrontofme,andIwonderifIshouldfindawaytosayit

aloud.Iwonderifthat’swhatDaddyNickwants.

Hedoesn’tgivemeanopportunitytofindaway.Hedoesitforme.
“Doesn’tthatlooklovely,sweetheart?”heasks.Thewaiterlooksatme,waitsforareactionwitha

smile.

Myheartisracing.“Yes…itdoes,Daddy.”
DaddyNicksmilessobright,andIfeellikeI’vepassedatest.Ilikeit.Ireallylikeit.
“Itlooksreallyyummy,Daddy,”Isay,tryingitoutsomemore.ItcomessomucheasierthanIthought

itwould.

IwonderhowoldthewaiterthinksIam.Fifteen,maybesixteenatmost.Justtherightagetohavea

daddylikeNick.

“Enjoyyourmeal,”thewaitersays,andleavesus,justlikethat.Asthoughit’sthemostnormalthing

intheworld,alittlegirleatingoutwithherdaddyonaSaturdayevening.

“Goodgirl,”DaddyNicksays,andIfeelitinmytummy.
“Idon’tlookmuchlikeyou,”Iwhisper.
“ThenIguessyoulooklikeyourmother.”Hiseyestwinklesodarkly,andIwonderifhe’shard.I

wishIcouldfindout.

Dinnertastesreallygood,butIhardlywanttoeatathing.Ihavetoforceitdown,butmythighsare

doingthatclenchingthingtheydo,andI’msquirmingonmyseat,hopingDaddyNickwilltakemeagain
whenwegethome.Hopinghe’lldoitfastandhardandmakethosehornygruntshemakeswhenheloses
control.

“Eatup,”hetellsme.“You’llneedtheenergywhenwegethome.”
Ieateverysinglebite.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

ICK

DRIVE

FASTER

THAN

USUAL

,mydickstraininginmylap,sofuckinghardatthethoughtofthrustinginto

Laine’stightlittlepussy.

Shedoesn’tspeak,juststaresattheroadahead.Butshe’sfidgety,hercutelittleassshufflinginthe

passengerseat.IknowI’llfindherknickersniceandwetforme,thethoughtmakesmymouthwater.

“Youcantouchyourself,”Itellher.“It’sdark.Noonecanseeinsidethecar.”
Ifeelherwideeyesonme.Suchdeliciousshock.“ButI…”
“Butyouwhat?”
“Idon’tknow…”sheadmits.“Itfeels…”
“Dirty,”Itellher.“Daddy’sfeelingdirtyrightnow,sweetheart.Daddywantstotakehislittlegirl

homeandburyhiscockinherprettylittlecunt.”

Apause,andthenIhearthezipperonherjeans.
“Goodgirl.”Myballstighten.“MakeyourselfniceandwetforDaddy.Tellhimhowitfeels.”
Icanseeherlittlehandrubbingfromthecornerofmyeye.“Itfeels…ah…itfeels…”
“Playwiththatsweetlittleclit,Laine,butdon’tcome.YoucomeonlyforDaddy.”
“Ah…butI’mso…”
“OnlyDaddymakesyoucome,Laine.Understood?”Myvoiceissoharsh,lacedwiththepressureof

mystrainingfuckingcock.

“Yes,Daddy…”Herhandslowsdownitsrubbing.
We’returningontoourstreetbeforeIknowit,andLainekeepsrubbingherselfrightuntilIturnoffthe

engine.Shepilesoutofthecarwithoutfasteningupherjeans,andthey’resoeasytoyankdownherthighs
oncewemakeitintothekitchen.Ipressintoherfrombehindandwalkherforwardwithfranticsteps
untilI’vepinnedheragainstthekitchenisland,hertinybodysodeliciousasIgrindagainstherass,my
fingerssnakingaroundtoslipinsideherknickersandrubatherneedylittleclit.

“You’resofuckingwetforDaddy,”Ihiss.“Sofuckingwet.”
Idipmyfingertipsinherslittoillustrate,andshemoansforme.
“YouwantDaddy’scockagain,don’tyou?”Mymouthisrightbyherear.“TellDaddyhowmuchyou

wanthiscock.”

“Please,Daddy!”shecries.“Iwantitsomuch!”
“Sayit.”
“Iwantyourcock,Daddy!Fuckme!”

She’slearning.
TheacheinmygroinismorethanIcanfuckingbear.Ispinheraroundmeandhitchherupontothe

granite,tuggingdownherwetknickersandspreadingherthighsniceandwide.Herpinkslitispuffyand
glistening,mineforthefuckingtakingasIspitonmyfingersandsinktwoallthewayinside.

Shemoansadelightfullittlemoan,andIfuckherharder,myfingerseasingandstretchingheropen.

She’sstillsotight,hertinyholesuchafuckingwonder.“Yes!Yes,Daddy!”

Imoveincircles,niceanddeep,applyingpressureuntilshegasps.IgroanforherasIclampmy

mouthontoherprettylittlemound,andherclitissoeasytofind,standingproudformytongue.

Shebucksherhips,urgingmedeeper,andIsuck,flickingmytonguesoquicklyoverthathardlittle

bud.

“Daddy!”Hervoiceisbreathless,frantic.“I’mgonnacome,Daddy!”
Istareupatmygorgeousgirl,hercheeksflushedandlipsparted.Hertophasriddenuptoherbra,her

tummysotight.Herlegswraparoundmyshoulders,andsheusesthemasleverage,rubbingherpussy
againstmyfaceassheshudders.Shelosescontrol,cursinginsuchaprettylittlevoice,andIkeepon
lappinguntilshe’sallusedup.

Herwetnessisinmynostrils,smearedslickovermymouth.Shetastesfuckingdivine.Igettomyfeet

whenshe’sdone,andtakeoutmycock,spearinghersosuddenlythatshesqueals.

“Ow,ow,ow…”shegroansasIpushallthewayinside.Sherocksherhipsregardlessasherpussy

takesme,andhermouthisopenwideformykisses.Herhandsreacharoundtograbmyass,andmyhorny
littlegirlurgesmeon,urgesharder,faster.

Herinnocencehidessuchadirtylittleminx,justbeggingtobecoaxedoutintotheopen.
Ishouldn’tcomewithoutusingprotection,notwithoutaseriousdiscussion,butmysweetlittleLaine

surprisesmeyetagain.

“Come,Daddy!Iwantit!Iwantitinme!”
AndsodoI.
Iwanttofillthattightlittlecuntwithmyseed,Iwanttofillherupuntilshe’sswollenwithmychild,

andherprettylittletitsaresoripe.

It’sthebeastwithin,Iknowit.Ifeelitbehindmyeyes,thedesiretoclaimherforever.It’sallkindsof

fuckingwrong,butIcan’tresist.

FranticthrustsandIunload,hersweetcuntsucksitfromme,milkingmyballsuntiltheyrundry.
ShedripsasIpulloutofher,andherfreshlyfuckedholeisasightstraightfromheaven.
Shecatchesherbreath,smilingasIrunathumboverherslit.
“SuchagoodgirlforDaddy,”Itellher.“Allfullup.”
Hereyestwinkleasshetugshercrumpledtopoverherhead.
“Iwantmore,”shesays.

AINE

ADDY

ICK

LOVES

meallthroughSaturdaynight.HelovesmeuntilI’mtoosoretotakehiscockanymore,

andthentakesmewithhismouthinstead.

DaddyNicklovesmeuntilwe’rebothpantingandsweaty.Helovesmeuntiltherearenowords,only

breath.

HelovesmeuntilIfallasleepinhisarms,andthenhewakesandlovesmeagainonabrightSunday

morning.

Weeattoast,andthenhebathesme.Hewashesmyhair,andsoapsmeallover,andthenhepusheshis

fingersinsidemyass.OnlythistimeitmakesmesohornyIbeghimtolovemealloveragain.

Hedoes.
Hegivesmesomuch.
Hegivesmeeverything,overandoverthroughSundaynight.
He’sstilltakingmeasthebirdsarechirpingoutside,andI’mtooscaredtocheckmyphonealarm,

knowingmysleepwillbebarelyenoughtofunction.

Itisn’t.
Idon’twanttowakeupforcollege.IbarelymoveasIhearhisvoicefromdownstairs.Myheadfeels

muggyandmypussyfeelssore,andallIwanttodoiscurlupwithhimandtalkaboutbutterflies,but
DaddyNickdoesn’tdodaysoff.

He’salreadydressedsosmartforwork.Alreadycookingmybreakfast.
Ieatslowly,myeyesstillheavywithsleep,andhesmilesandcallsmelazybones,thenleavesmeto

clearourplatesashefinishesgettingreadytoleave.

Istartleasheclapshishandsinfrontofmyface,andI’mstillinthesamepositionatthetable,my

breakfastplatestillemptyinfrontofme.

“Chop-chop,sweetheart,we’relate.Wecan’tbelate,Laine.”
Hisvoiceissternandfilledwithirritation,andIfeelmortifiedtohavedisappointedhiminsucha

sillyway.Irushtomyfeetandcleartheplateswithaclatter,thenboundupstairstwostepsatatimeto
brushmyteethandgathermymessyhairintoaponytail.Ithrowonmyclothes,stillfasteningmyjeansas
Iracetothedoorwhilehe’swaiting.Ibarelynoticethelunchboxhethrustsinmyhands,andfollowhim
outtothecarinadaze.

Thefrostyairwakesmeupenoughtoattemptconversation,buthe’sstillirritated,checkingtheclock

onthedashboardeveryfewseconds.

“I’msorry,Daddy,”Isay.
“Anearlynightforyou,younglady,”hetellsme.Idon’tdisagree.
Icouldsleepfortenyearsstraight.

I’

groggywhenKellyAnnecatchesmeinthecorridor.She’sgrinning,burstingtotellmesomestupid

newsorother.It’saboutaguy,notHarrison,someotherstupidstudcalledMasonshemetdownthefish
andchipshop.Mason.Idoubtthat’sevenhisrealname.Shetellsmehe’sbuiltlikeabear,andfuckslike
one,too.

Thewayshetalksabouthimyou’dthinkhewasthemasterofthefemaleorgasm,butshe’sfullofshit,

Icanseethatnow.

Iwonderifshe’salwaysbeensofullofshit.
Probably.
Sherollshereyes.“Youdon’tseemallthatinterested.IguessDaddyNickissooomuchmore

importantthanmenow…”Shefollowsmeanyway.“So,haveyouactuallyfuckedtheguyyet?”

Sheclearlydoesn’tbelieveforonesecondI’vedoneit.Ishouldn’trisetothebait,butshe’sbeen

lookingatmelikesuchaprudeforsolongnowthatIcan’thelpbutrevelinthefactthatI’mnot.

Istopwalking,andeventhoughI’mexhaustedandstillsoguttedIupsetDaddyNickthismorning,

there’sstillasizzleallthewaythroughme.

“Yes,”Itellher.“Ihave.Anditwasgreat.Itwasamazing.Hewasamazing.”Igrin,andonceit’son

myfaceitwon’tleave.

Shelookssoshocked,hereyessowideasshegawpsatme.
“Wow,”shesays.“Congratulations.”It’shollowandempty.HerinsincerityissoobviousnowIhave

Nickinmylife.

Nick.Ihaven’tthoughtofhimwithjusthisactualnamefordays.
“Ilovehim,”Itellher,andI’msoconfidentwiththestatementittakesmeaback.“Ilovehimandhe

lovesme,andit’samazing.”

Sheshrugs.“Yeah,well,Ithoughtthataboutmyfirstshag,too.You’llgetoverit.”
Ishakemyhead.“It’sdifferent.”
“Ohyeah?Howwouldyouknow?”
There’samillionreasonsI’dknow.Thewayhelooksatme,thewayhecares,thewayheholdsme

andkissesmeandhiseyesturnsodarkwhenhewantsme.Thewayhebreathessosteadilywhenhe’s
sleepingnexttome.Thewayhespeakswithme,sharesthingswithme,thewayhe’ssotenderwhenhe
brushesmyhair.

“Ijustknow,”Itellher,andthere’sthatconfidenceagain.I’veneverbeenconfidentbefore.Itfeelsso

weird.

“So,whatyougonnadonow?Getknockedupandhavetwo-point-fourkidsandlivehappilyever

afterinhisfancyhouse?”

Thethoughtofthatmakesmefeelsoticklyinside.“Maybe.”
ShelooksatmelikeI’manidiot.Arealidiot.“Jesus,Laine.What’swrongwithyou?Youwantto

havekidswithcreepyguy?”

“He’snotcreepy.”
“He’ssofuckingcreepy.Buyingyouaphoneandmakingyoursandwiches,dressingyouupsweetin

yourcutelittlepastelclothes.”

Ilookdownatmyoutfit.“What’swrongwithmyclothes?”
“Urgh.Nothing.”Sherollshereyesagain.“I’mjustworried,alright?You’resoweirdlately.”
Happy.Ithinkthewordishappy.It’sonthetipofmytonguetotellher,butasusualshe’sdonewith

talkingaboutme.“Hedoesknowyou’recomingoutformybirthday,right?”

Myheartdropsattherevelation.KellyAnne’sbirthday.Icalculatethedate.Saturday.Thethought

pains.

“I,um…Ididn’tknowwewere…”
Shelooksgenuinelyhurt.“You’renotcoming?!Forreal?Likewedon’talwaysgooutonmyfucking

birthday!”

Iwouldn’tcallitthat.Acoupledownherlocalpubwheretheyknewwewereunderagebutdidn’t

care.

“Wecango,”Isay.“Justforafew,likenormal.”
Shegroans.“Noway,Laine!Clubbingonthebeachfront.There’sadrumandbassnightIwantto

checkout.”Mystomachlurchesatthethought,andshemustseethehorror.“IsaidIwassorry!Youcan
keepholdofyourownshitthistimeifyou’resoworried.”

Iwanttosayno,wanttotellhertogooutwithsomeofherfakeFacebookfriendsinstead.Theones

wholikehercommentsbutdon’tgiveashitaboutherinreallife.

“You’dhavemorefunwithotherpeople,Kels.I’mnotreallyupfordrinkingthatmuch.”
Herfrownmakesmefeelsoguilty.“Butyou’remybestfriend!IwantyoutomeetMason!Please,

Laine!Jeez,doyouwantmetofuckingbegorsomething?IsaidI’msorryaboutlasttime,whatelsedo
youwant?”Classisabouttostart,butshefoldsherarmsandmakesnomovetoleave.“Please,Laine!
Sayyou’llcome!”

I’msocornered.Corneredandguilty.
“I’lltalktoNick…”

“Youneedhispermissionnow?!”
“No,”Isay.AndIdon’t.I’msureIdon’t.EventhoughI’malsosureIdo.
“Soyou’llcome,then?”
I’mtrapped.Hereyespleadingandhershoulderssorigid.I’mtrappedintogoingoutforherbirthday,

becauseshe’sbeenmyfriendforaslongasIcanremember.

“Alright,”Isay.“I’llcome.Butonlyforafew,okay?Justforafew!”
Shegrins,triumphant,thenslingsherarmaroundmyshoulderasweheadforclass.
AllIfeelisdread.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

ICK

I’

tiredthanIcanremember.Amusingthoughitis,Ishouldbefartoosensibletoindulgeinacrazy

weekendoffuckingonsuchlittlesleep.Still,Ifeelsated.Thoroughlysated.

Ifeelblessed.Calm.
Loved.
Ataponmydoor,andmybright-eyedassistantstepsin.ShelooksconsiderablyfresherthanIfeel.
“Morning,Penny,”Ioffer,andmytirednessfadesintothebackgroundasInoticetheboxinherhands.
“Morning,MrLynch.”Hersmileisnervous.“Ipickedoutthatgiftyouwanted.Chargedittoyour

expensesaccountontheweekend.Ihopethat’sokay,”shedithersinfrontofmydesk,sounsure.“Itwas
expensive…”

Iwaveherconcernsaside.“That’sgreat,Penny.Thankyou.”
Shesighs,pretendstowipeherbrow.Andthenshehandsitover.
Theboxisblackleatherwithfineembossedlettering.Itopenssosmoothlyinmyhands.
PennystaresatmeasIstareatthegiftshe’schosen.It’sbeautiful.Aperfectheart,sotastefulinits

simplicity,twinklingwithadelicatepinkstoneasanaccent.

“It’splatinum,”shesays.“Andthat’sarealdiamond…”
“Anexcellentchoice.”
“I’mgladyoulikeit.”
Iclosethebox,andmeethersmile.“Thankyou,Penny.”
Shehovers,andIstayquietassheplucksupwhatevercourageshe’ssummoning.“Willshelikeit?”
“Ihopeso,”Isay.
“She’saluckygirl.”
“I’msureshe’llappreciatesuchabeautifulgift.”Iwaitforit,interestedtoseehowboldsheiswith

herquestioning.

Shekeepshereyesonthebox.“WillshewearittotheChristmasparty?”
TheChristmasparty.
I’vebarelygivenitathought.It’sbeenmerelyadutyupuntilnow.Myattendanceanecessary

annoyanceasseniorpartnerofthepractice.

IimagineLaineonmyarmthisyear,andtheprospectisconsiderablymoreappealing.
“Iwouldthinkso,Penny.”
Hereyesaresowarm.“That’sgreat.What’shername?”

“Laine,”Isay.
“Laine,”sherepeats.“Ilookforwardtomeetingher.”
“I’msureshe’llenjoymeetingyou,too.”
Shemakestoleave,butIcallherback.“Onemorething,Penny,ifyouwill.”
“Ofcourse.”
Iopenthegalleryapponmyphoneandpingacopyofthebutterflypicturetoherinboxasshewaits.

“I’veemailedyouanimage.I’dlikeitprinted,please,aframe,too.Iknowyou’llfindsomethingjust
perfect.”

“I’lldomybest,MrLynch.”
I’msureshewill.
Myphonetellsmeit’salmostlunchtimeasIdropitbackontomydesk.
I’vejusttimetofinishupmycurrentreportbeforeit’stimetocallLaine.

AINE

ELLY

NNE

DOESN

’

BOTHER

SPEAKING

aswesitinthecanteen.Sheknowstheroutinebynow,knowshe’ll

becallingmeanyminute.

Idiginmybagformyphone,justlikealways.Iliketobepreparedforwhenhiscallcomesin.
Onlymyphoneisn’tinmybagthismorning.
Irootaround,asthoughsearchingalltheharderwillmakeitmaterialiseoutofthinair.
KellyAnnesighsasshewatches.“Leftyourfancyphoneathome,didyou?DaddyNick’sgonnabe

pissedyou’renotathisbeckandcall.”

Shehasnoidea.
Ifeellikesuchanassforsleepinginandrushingsofasttomakeituptohim.Icanimagineexactly

wheremyphoneis,stillpluggedinatthesideofthebed,probablystillchirpingoutthealarmthatI
snoozedtentimesthismorning.Shit.

Ifeelmyselfpale,mymouthdryaspaper.
“Chill,Laine,it’sjustaphone.Nobigdeal.”
Butitisabigdeal.Healwayscallsatoneonthedot.Helikestogetholdofme,tocheckI’mokay.
“Healwayscalls…”Ibegin,likeshehasahopeofhellofunderstanding.
“So?”
“So,healwayscalls.It’simportant.”
Shetutsatme.“Soimportant.I’msurehecanwaitafewhoursforastatusupdateonhowyummy

yoursandwichwas.”

IwishIcouldexplain,butthere’snowayIwill.IwishIcouldtellherhowworriedhe’llbe,how

muchtragedyhe’sbeenthrough.IwishIcouldtellherthatkeepingmesafeiseverythingtoDaddyNick.

Itrytofigureawaytogetholdofhim,buttheideaofcallinghimattheofficepracticallybringsona

panicattack.WhatwouldIevensay?Andwouldhebeangry?

Moreangrythanhe’llbeatmeforforgettingmyphone?
Iprobablyalreadymadehimlatethismorning,andnowthis.Ifeellikesuchanidiot.
Maybehe’llpunishme.
Thethoughtisrightthere,andsoistheguiltyflutterbetweenmylegs.
Ishouldn’twantthat.Definitelyshouldn’twanthimtobemadwithme.Disappointedinme.

Iwonderifhe’llusethebelthisfatherusedonhim.Iwonderhowmuchit’llhurt.
Maybehewon’t.
Maybehe’llbrushitoffandtellmetobemorecarefulnexttime.
Idoubtit.AndI’mnotsurethat’ssuchabadthing.
“Chill,Laine,youlooklikeyou’veseenafuckingghost.”KellyAnnesighsandtakesaswigofher

drink.

Thenervesaredancinginmytummy,andtheticklesticklebetweenmylegs.Ifeelsick,hotandcold

andtinglyallatonce.

“Ishouldn’thaveforgottenmyphone,”Isay.
ButKellyAnnedoesn’tcareatall.

ICK

CALL

AGAIN

.Andagainafterthat.

Istareatmyphonescreenandbreathethroughtheirrationalnerves.
Maybeshe’sbeenheldupinclass.Maybeshe’sinanoisycanteen.
Ithappens.
I’mfoolingmyself.It’spartoftherules,ourlunchtimephonecall.Shealwaysanswersonthesecond

ring.Likeclockwork.

Onlynottoday.
Iconsidermyoptions,contemplatingcallingthecollegereceptionandleavingamessageforher,but

whatwouldbethepoint?

I’lllooklikeastalkerforthesakeofeasingmyparanoia,thatoralarmherunnecessarily.
Iforcemyselftogetagrip,toreflectonthemorningandweighupthesituationrationally.
Shewastiredandrushed,barelyawakewhenIdroppedheroffatcollege.There’salmostcertainlyan

entirelyinnocentexplanation.

Almostcertainly.
IfthereisthenIshallpunishherforbreakingtherulessocarelessly,andifthereisn’t…
Idaren’tevengivethatathought.

STRUGGLE

throughmyafternoonappointments,endeavouringtogivemyclientsmyprofessionalattention

withmynerveswoundtightinmychest.

ItryLaine’sphoneagainduringalullinmeetings.ItringsthroughtovoicemailjustasMichaelFrench

stepsintomyroom.He’smyjointseniorpartner,asmuchofafriendasI’dclassanyone,notthatthebar’s
particularlyhigh.

Hissmiletellsmehe’sheardthenews.Iwouldn’thaveimaginedanythingless,notnowI’vegiven

Pennygossip-worthydetail.Ididn’texpectthenewswouldstayasecret,andI’msurePennydidn’t
consideritconfidentialinformation,notnowI’mofficiallybringingmypartnertotheChristmasparty.

“TellmeaboutLainewiththepinkdiamond,”Mikesaysandholdsouthishandacrossthedesk.

“Congratulationsonthecouplestatus.”

Ishakeitwarmly.“Wordtravelsfast…”
“Secretariestalk.”Hetipshishead.“Shemustbequiteawomantosnareastoicolddoglikeyou.”

“Enoughoftheold.”Ilaughaprofessionallaugh,eventhoughitfeelslikerustyironinmythroat.
“So,”heprompts.“What’sshelike?Youkeptthatoneclosetoyourchest.”
IcastanotherglanceatmyphonebeforeIanswer.Nomessages.“She’ssweetandkind.Gracious.

Beautiful.”

“Blonde?”
Ismile.“Blonde,yes.”
“Nicelegs?”
Imeethisstare.“Nicesmile.Aniceheart.Thelegsaremerelyabonus,Mike.”
“Soshedoeshavenicelegs…”Helaughstohimself.“Can’twaittomeether.I’msureBarbarawill

lovegettingtoknowher.”

BarbaraFrenchcelebratedherfiftiethbirthdaylastsummer.She’sawildfire,asharpcrackerwitha

sharptongueandabsolutelynothingincommonwithlittleLaine.

Mike’sdiggingandIknowit.Imakehimwait,pretendingtocheckoutafreshemail.
IusethemomenttocontemplatewhetherI’mreadyforthis,butitdoesn’ttakeallthatlongtoconsider.
I’mreadyforeverythingLainebringstomylife,includinganyawkwardquestions.
Itakeabreath.“She’seighteen,Mike.”Iholdhisstarewithoutflinching.
Hedoesn’tflincheither.“Asweetyoungthing,I’msure.”
“Very.”
“ThenI’mhappyforyou.”Hissmileisgenuineenough.“Weshouldgooutonenight,celebratewith

somechampagne.IntroduceyoungLainetoourofficefamily.”

“She’llbecomingtotheChristmasparty,”Itellhim,likehehasn’talreadyheard.
“Excellent.I’llbebringingCaroline,she’sbackfromuniversityandnodoubtshe’llbeboredenough

tocomealong.I’msurethey’llgetonfantastically.Maybetheycouldspendsometimetogether.Caroline
getslonelywithoutherunipals.Youknowhowitiswhenyou’rethatage.”

I’mnotsureIremember,butsmileregardless.“I’msureLainewouldenjoythat,”Itellhim.
“Excellent,”hesays.“IlookforwardtomeetingthefutureMrsLynch.”
Iraisemyeyebrows.“That’squiteastatement.”
“Shemustbequiteawoman,”hesaysagain.“Anywomanthatcancatchyourheartafterallthese

yearshasgottobeonetokeepholdof.”Hetipshisheadatme.“I’llgetBarbaratopickoutahatready
forthebigday.”

“Youdothat,”Isay.
HethinksI’mjoking,I’msure,andonsomelevelIam.Makingpoliteconversationforthesakeof

appearances.Butit’smorethanthat.

She’sbecomingapartofmylife.
Itfeelsbeautiful,andthatonlymakesmeworryallthemore.
Itryherphoneagain.

AINE

RUSH

outthroughthecollegegates,sighinginrelieftofindhiscarintheusualspot.Ithrowmyselfinto

thepassengerseat,fullofsorryexplanations.

I’manidiot!Iforgotmyphone!Irushedoutandleftitthere,righttherebythebedsidetable!I’m

sosorry.I’manidiot.I’manidiot.I’manidiot.

Hedoesn’tsayaword,justreversestheMercedesoutofthespaceandheadsforhome.
Idon’tknowwhatelseIcansay,soIsaynothing,justtapmyfingersonmylunchbox.
Iwishhe’dgocrazyandtellmehowangryheis,justtogetitoverwith,buthedoesn’t.
“Iwasworried,”hesays,sosimply.
“Iknow,”Itellhim.“Igetit.Igethowworriedyou’dbe.I’mreallysorry.”
“Rushingisafool’serrand,Laine.Carelessnessleadsnowheregood.”
ItellhimIknowthat,too.TellhimI’msorryagain.
Hesaysnothingelse,juststaresattheroadahead.
Ihatehowitfeelstodisappointhim.
Hepullsontoourdrivewayandparksupasusual.Heopensthefrontdoorandstepsinsideasusual.

Hangshisjacketupasusual.

Andthenheheadsthroughtothesittingroom.Ifollowhim,hopingthatmaybehe’llbreaktheiceand

tellmeabouthisday,buthedoesn’t.

HeunfastenshiscufflinksasIwatch,androllshiscuffsback.
Myheartraces,andI’mnotevensurewhy.Ijustknowthatsomething’sbrewing.
Thatticklebetweenmylegsagain,butit’sfaintunderthenerves.
“Naughtygirlsneeddiscipline,sweetheart.Itoldyouwhathappenswhenyoudisregardtherules.”
“Yes,Daddy,”Iwhisper.“I’msorry,Daddy.”
“I’msureyouare,”hetellsmeandhisvoiceissternagain,likeitwaswhenIwaslatethismorning.

“Butsorryaloneisn’tenoughtolearnyourlesson,Laine.Therulesarethereforareason,tokeepyou
safe.”

“Iknow,Daddy…”Ifeelsoyoungagain.Youngandditzyandawkward,barelylikethehornylittle

cowwhotookhiscockallweekend.

“YouknowthatIhavetodothis.”
Inod,becauseIdoknow,atleastIthinkIdo.It’spartofbeingtakencareof,discipline.I’venever

haddiscipline,becauseI’veneverhadanyonewhocaredenough.Notlikehecares.

Disciplinemeanscaring.
Thefeelinginmyheartmakesmoresensethanthewordssoundinmyhead.
Hebeckonsmecloser.Istepforwardsoslowly.“Takeoffyourjeans,”hesays.
Myheartthumps.“Okay,Daddy.”
Myfingersfumblebecausethey’resoshaky.Ishimmymyjeansdownmylegsandstepoutofthem,

feelingsonaughtyasDaddyNickstaresatmeinjustmyknickers.He’snotsmiling,notevenabit.His
browsaresofirmandserious.

Hetakesaseatinthearmchair,hisbackuprightandkneesrigid.Hepatshislap,andmylegsare

wobblyasIstepovertojoinhim.“Overmyknee,”hesays.

I’veneverbeenoversomeone’skneebefore.Ilowermyselfsotentatively,buthegrabsmeandhauls

meintoposition,myassraisedsovulnerablyonhislap.Theshamemakesmeburn.

Isqueakashetugsmyknickersdown.Theybuncharoundmyknees,anditfeelssonaughtyIscrewmy

eyesshut.

“I’mdoingthisforyourowngood,”hetellsme,andhispalmbrushesmybarethigh.“Yourowngood,

andmine,too.”Imanageanothernod.“Thisisgoingtohurt,”hesays,butIalreadyknowthat.

Thefirstslaptakesmebysurpriseeventhoughitshouldn’t.Ijoltforwardonhislap,buthe’sgotme.

Hisarmpressesontomybacktoholdmesteadywhilehisotherhandspanksme,andithurts.Itreally
hurts.

DaddyNickhitshard.
“Ow!”Isqueak.“Ow,ow,ow...”
Mylittleshrieksdon’tdoanythingtoputhimoffhisstride.Ifanythingitonlymakeshimhitharder.It

burnshot.Stings,too.Untilthewarmthbeginstoglowandtingleandmybreathingslowsfromragged
gulpsintolongslowbreaths.

“Naughty,careless,recklesslittlegirl,”hegrunts,everywordhighlightedbyathwackofhispalm.
Isquealwhenheslapsmythighs,andthatmakestheburnstartupafresh.Myhairswishesaroundmy

facewitheveryblow,andhiskneespressintomyhipsasIteeteronhislap.

Hetugsmecloserforextrabalance,andthat’swhenIfeelhim.Feelhowhardheis.
Theburnonmyassspreadstomypussy.IwanttoclenchmythighsbutIdon’tdare.
HespreadsmyburningcheeksandIletoutagaspashisfingerssliproundtomypussy.
“IsDaddy’spunishmentmakingyouwet,Laine?”heasks.I’mnotsurewhetherhewantsmetobe

excitedornot,soIdon’tsayaword.Hefindsoutforhimself,slippingafingerinsidemeandmovingitin
andout.I’msurehe’sleftundernoillusion.“DoesmakingDaddyworriedturnyouon?”

“No!”Isqueal.“No,Daddy!Ijust…”
“Youjustwhat?”
“Ijust…”Istruggletofindthewords.“Ijustlikehowitfeels…”
Heshiftsunderneathme.Iguessthatmeanshelikeshowitfeels,too.Hisfingerisstillinmypussy,

andIwishsohardhe’dtouchmyclitandmakemecome.

“You’reanaughtygirl,Laine.”
Myfaceburnsnearlyashotasmyass.“I’msorry,Daddy,”Iwhisper.“Ididn’tmeantobebad.”
“Ithinkyoulikeyourpunishment,Laine.Ihopethisdoesn’tmeanyou’llmisbehaveformore.”
“No.”Ishakemyhead.“Iwon’t,Ipromise.”
IlikeitmorethanIshould,that’sforsure.IguessIreallyamnaughty.
“SaythankyoutoDaddy.”
Idon’tknowquitewhathemeansuntilheeasesmetothefloor.Hishandtanglesinmyhairand

guidesmetomykneesbeforehim,andhe’slooseninghisbeltandunbuttoninghistrousers.

Istareathimwithwideeyes,soembarrassedathowflushedanddishevelledImustlook.
Hepullshiscockfreeandhereallyishard.Thetipglistens,andIrealisehowmuchImust’vebeen

wrigglingonhislap.

“I’msorry,Daddy,”Iwhisperasheguidesittomylips.“Thankyou.”
“Whatareyouthankfulfor,Laine?”
Isowanttoanswercorrectly.“I’mthankfulfor…youteachingme…howtobeagoodgirl.”
“Andteachingyoutobeabadgirl,too?”
“Yes,Daddy.Andthat.”
“Suckme,”hesaysandpusheshiscockbetweenmylips.
I’vetakenDaddyNickinmymouthsomanytimesbynow,butnotlikethis.Hisfingersholdmyhair

sotight,andhethrustshishipssohardthatIretcharoundhiscock.Hedoesn’tletgo,andIsplutterand
chokeuntilmyeyesstream.

“GoodlittlegirlssuckDaddy’scocksosweetly,”hegrunts,butthere’snothingsweetabouttheway

I’msuckinghim.Nothingsweetatall.

It’snoisyandwetandslurpy,andspitdribblesdownmychinanddripsontothefloor.I’munsteady

withmyknickersstillbunchedaroundmyknees,anditgiveshimsomuchpowertomovemewhereverhe
wants.

Myheadbobslikeadoll’s,mythroatgurglingashefucksmyface,butIdon’tstoplookingathim,

don’tstopwantingmore.

“Youreallyareanaughtylittlegirl,”hetellsme,andIbelievehim.Ireallyamanaughtygirl.

“Misbehaveagainandyou’llgetthebelt,”hethreatens,andIknowit’snotanidlethreat.

IwonderwhetherI’lllikeitasmuchasIlikedhishandonmyass.
IwonderwhetherI’llevergettofindout.

“Daddy’sgoingtocome,”hetellsme.“Daddy’sgoingtocomeinyournaughtylittlemouth,Laine.”
Isqueezemythighstogetheranditmakesmyclitspark.
I’msoreadyforDaddy’scome.Ihopemyeyestellhimso.
Hethruststothebackofmythroatandswearsunderhisbreath,andItastehim.Itmakesmesnortand

that’sfullofcum,too.Myeyesstream,butIdon’tcare.IlovebeingmessywithDaddyNick’scum.

Igulpinbreathashepullsout,andthere’sastreamofspitbetweenthetipofhiscockandmychin.

Hewipesitupwithhisthumbandsucksitintohismouth.

“Dirtygirl,”hesays.
ButIthinkDaddyNickisthedirtiestoneofall.

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

ICK

I’

NOT

surehowwellLainehaslearnedherlesson,butsheeatsherdinnerdemurelyandIhaveno

reasontopresstheissuefurther.

Idon’tdoubtshe’ssorry,andfeelassuredshewon’tbeforgettingherphoneagainanytimesoon.I

knowmypossessivenessisirrational,andI’mfullyawarethatmypunishmentcouldbeconsideredheavy-
handed,butthere’ssomuchmoreatplaywithinthissituation.

IthinkmydirtylittlegirlneededdisciplineasmuchasIneededtoenforceit.
Idecidetolightenthemood,gracingherwithasmileassheforksuphercarrots.
“I’dlikeyoutoaccompanymetomyworkChristmasparty,”Itellher.“Ifyou’dbehappytocome

along.”

Hereyeslightup,herforkpausedhalfwaytohermouth.“Yourparty?Likea…date?”
“You’llbecomingasmypartner,”Itellher.“I’vealreadytoldmycolleaguesaboutyou.”
“Youhave?”Shelookssosurprised.
“OfcourseIhave,sweetheart.You’renotasecret.I’mveryproudtohaveyouatmyside.”
Asmilebloomsonherface.“I’dlikethat.”
“I’mglad,”Itellher,andIam.
“Won’ttheythinkI’mtooyoung?Imean,Ilookyoung…”
“Theyknowhowoldyouare.”
Sheputsherforkbackontheplate,carrotsuntouched.“Wow.Ididn’texpect…”
Ireachforherwristandsqueeze.“Didn’texpectwhat?”
Sheshrugs.“Justdidn’texpect…somuch…Ididn’tknowifyou’dwantyourcolleaguestoknow.”
“Ido,”Itellher.“I’mveryproud.”
Hereyessparkle.“Thanks,DaddyNick.I’dreallylovetocometoyourpartywithyou.”
“Thenweshallgetyouadress.”Ismile.“Abeautifuldressformybeautifulgirl.”
It’sonthetipofmytonguetomentionthenecklace,butIleaveit.Surprisesaresospecialwhenthey

involveLaine.

“I’veneverbeentoaposhparty,”sheadmits.“I’veneverneededaproperdress.”
“You’regoingtolookstunning,Laine.I’llbetheenvyofeverymanthere.”
Shelookssocoy.Sounawareofherownbeauty.
“Thankyou,Daddy,”shesays.“You’retoogoodtome.”
She’swrong,I’mnottoogoodtoher.

It’sfatethat’sbeingtoogoodtome.

AINE

I’

GOING

toDaddyNick’sworkpartyandIcan’tquitebelieveit.I’msoexcitedIcouldexplode,and

practicallyknockKellyAnneoffherfeetasIgrabheroutsidethecollegeentrance.

“I’mgoingtoaball!”Itellher.“Arealball!WithNick!He’sgoingtogetmeaprettydressandIget

tomeetallhisworkcolleagues.I’mreallygoingtoaball!”

ShelooksjustasunimpressedasIexpected,butthatdoesn’tmatter.Ijustneededtosayitoutloud.
“Ihopehe’sgoingtogetyouaprettydressformybirthdayparty,too.”
Icouldshrivelintonothingonthespot.
Ishould’veaskedDaddyNickaboutKellyAnne’sparty,butlastnightjustdidn’tseemright.Notafter

Iwasinsomuchtroubleformessingupalready.

“I’lltalktohimaboutit,”Itellherandshegroans.
“Soyouhaven’ttoldhim?”
Ishrug.“Wewerebusy.”
“Busy,right.”Shefoldsherarms.“Toobusytobebotheredwiththemostimportantdayofmyyear.”
She’sbeingadramaqueen,andIcan’tbebotheredtopandertoitanymore.“I’lltalktohim,”Isay,

andleaveitatthat.

“Makesureyoudo,”shesays.“Bestiesbeforeguys,that’stherule.”
Ifighttheurgetolaughinherface.
She’sneverfollowedthatruleinherlife.

ICK

FRAMED

ofLaineiswaitingonmydesk.It’sperfect,justasIknewitwouldbe.Theframeis

stylishandtasteful.Asimplebrushedsilverlinedwithcrackledpiecesofblueshellthatcatchthelight.It
matchestheblueofthebutterflymagnificently.

IpokemyheadaroundthedoortogivePennymythanks,anditstartlesher.“You’rewelcome,Mr

Lynch,”shesays.

I’mabouttoretreattomyworkloadwhenshespinsonherchair.Shedigsaroundinherdeskdrawer

andhandsmeasetofkeys.

“Tothehouseyouwantedfixingup,”sheexplains.“It’salldone.Newlocks,clearedofallthe

rubbish.I’vehadthewallsfreshlypainted,andnewfloorslaidwheretheycouldn’tbesalvaged,which
wasprettymucheverywhere.”Shepausesasshegathersherthoughts,mentallycheckingitemsoffonher
fingers.“Ihadtogetnewcurtainsforthelivingroomandnewblindsforthekitchen.Oh,andsomenew
furniture.Anewcoffeetable,sofa,andacoupleofwardrobes.Oh,andsomenewcupboarddoorsforthe
kitchenunits.”

Iturnthekeysoverinmyhand.“Thankyou,Penny.You’veworkedhard,Ireallyappreciateit.”

“That’smyjob,”shesays.It’sveryfarfrombeingherjobandwebothknowit.Shehandsoveran

inventoryofworkdone,andapenformetosignitoff.“ShallIchargeittoyourexpenses?”

Inod.“Please.”
Isignwithoutevencheckingthefiguresanditdoesn’tgounnoticed.
“It’sLaine’shouse,right?”shequestions.
“ItwasLaine’shouse.”
Hersmileissofriendlyasshetakesthedocumentsback.“She’ssomuchbetteroffwheresheis

now,”shecomments.“Withyou,”sheadds,asthoughtherewasanyconfusion.

“I’mgladyouthinkso,”Itellher,andIam.
IlockthekeysinmydeskdrawertheminuteI’mbackinmyoffice,andhopeIneverhavecausetouse

them.

IneverwantLainetogobackthere.
Shebelongswithmenow.

CONTEMPLATE

TELLING

heraboutthehouseaswedrivehome,butIcan’tfindthewords.Forallthe

rationalcontrolIhaveovermylife,I’mawarethatlifestillholdssomanyinsecurities.Thevulnerability
oflovingsomeonesomuchyou’reafraidoflosingthem.ThevulnerabilityofLaine’soldlifebeinga
viablealternativetotheoneweshare.

Sheseemshappyatmyside,neveranymentionoftheoldhouseorhowit’sdoing.
Isuspectshe’skeentostayinblissfulignorance,justasIamtokeepherthatway.
Sheglancesinmydirection.“Gooddayattheoffice?”
“Yes,”Isay.“Penny,myassistant,hadthebutterflypictureofyouframedforme.It’sonmydesk.”
“Itis?Really?”
“Really.”
Shegiggles.“NowIcanstareatyouallday,evenwhenI’mnotwithyou.”
“Ilikeyoustaringatme,especiallywhenI’mstaringback.”
“Metoo,”shesays.

’

SURPRISINGLY

quietasImakedinner,pretendingasusualtobeabsorbedinsomeassignmentwhile

herpentaptaptapsathernotepad.Something’sclearlyonhermind,andIwonderwhethershe’sstill
frettingoverherpunishmentlastnight.

“Ineedtoaskyousomething,”shetellsmefinally,andIstopstirringthepantolisten.“It’sKelly

Anne’sbirthdayonSaturday.Shewantsmetogo.Out,Imean.Clubbing.”

She’sundernoillusionastowhatIthinkofKellyAnne.Herpentapsallthefaster.
“Clubbing?”
Shenods.“Somedrumandbassclubonthebeachfront.I’vetoldherI’monlyinterestedingoingfor

acoupleofdrinks.”

“KellyAnneleadsyouintotrouble,Laine,”Itellher.
“Iknow.ButthistimeIwon’tlether.”
“Itsoundstomeasthoughyourmindisalreadymadeup.”
“Iwon’tgo…”shesays.“Notifyoudon’twantmeto.I’lltellherIcan’t.”
“Doyouwanttogo,Laine?”IkeepmyeyesonhersasIwaitforheranswer.
Sheshrugs,ausualresponse.“She’smyfriend.Myonlyfriend.Ialwaysgooutwithherforher

birthday.”

“That’snotwhatIasked.”
Shesighs.“IthinkIshouldgo.”
“Shouldandwantaretwoverydifferentthings,sweetheart.”
“She’smyfriend,”sherepeats.“She’llbesosadifIdon’t.”
IverymuchdoubtKellyAnnehaseitherthecapacityortheloyaltytogiveashitwhetherLaineis

thereornotafteracoupleoftequilas,butIkeepthattomyself.

“I’llneedtoknowyou’resafe,”Itellher,andshesmiles.
“I’llstaysafe,Ipromise.”
“Midnight,”Itellher.“I’llmeetyouatmidnight,onthefrontbythepier.Insistshewalksyoubackto

thecar,andmakesureyoukeepyourphonewithyou.”

“Iwill.”Hergrinissobright.“Thankyou,DaddyNick.Ididn’tthinkyou’dletmego.”
“Itisn’tacaseoflettingyoudoanything,sweetheart.You’refreetomakeyourowndecisions,I’m

justheretokeepyousafe.”

“Youdokeepmesafe,”shesays.“IneverfeltsafeuntilIfoundyou.”
Ionlyhopeitstaysthatway.
Idishupourmealwithoutanotherword.

AINE

ADDY

ICK

andIgetreadyforbedtogethereverynight.I’mbrushingmyteethwhenhejoinsmetobrush

his,andItakeafinalpeebeforesleepwhilehe’sfinishingup.

Hedoesn’talwayswipeme,buthealwayswatches.He’swatchingwhenIdiscoverahealthysplotch

ofbloodonthetissuepaper.

Myperiod.
Myfirstperiodinthishouse.
Hespitsouthistoothpasteandrinseshismouth.“WenowknowDaddyhasn’tgivenyouasituation

alongwithhiscum,”hecomments.“Atleastnotyet,anyway.”

IguessIshouldfeelrelieved,butIdon’t.Ifeelstrangelysad.
“That’sgood,Isuppose,”Isay,assumingthat’stherightresponse.
“Doyoureallythinkthat’sgood?”
Iwipemorebloodaway.“Yeah,”Isay,eventhoughIdon’tthinkImeanit.“That’ssensible,right?”
“I’mnotworriedaboutsensible,Laine,I’minterestedinhowyoufeelaboutit.”
Idon’treallyknowhowIfeelaboutit,Itellhimso.Hekneelsdownbesidemeandwipesmeafresh.

It’sbecomesonormal,himdoingthis,Idon’tevenflinch.“Itneedssomethought,”hesays.“Ifit’snot
somethingyou’rehappytorisk,we’llhavetouseprotection.”

Theideaofhavinghimfuckmethroughaslimycondomdoesn’tsoundhornyatall.Ilikeit,howwe

doit.Ilikefeelinghim,onlyhim.I’mnotinterestedinhavingaloadofrubberinsideme.

There’sbloodonmyknickers,soDaddyNickheadsintomybedroomandfindsmeafreshpair.He

takesthepackofsanitarypadsfrommycollectionoftoiletriesandtearsoneopen.Iwonderifanyone
elsedoesthis,butit’sonlyapassingthought.Idon’treallycarewhatanyoneelsedoesanymore,justas
longasit’sgoodenoughforus.

Igettomyfeetandheslidesmyknickersupmythighs,completewithfreshlyplacedpad.“That

shouldkeepyoucomfortableforthenight,”hesays.

“IhopeIdon’truinthesheets.”
Hesmiles.“Itdoesn’tmatterifyoudo,sheetscanbereplaced,sweetheart.”
That’snotwhatIreallywanttosay.Iwanttotellhimthere’sanickysadnessinmybelly,asthoughI

wassecretlyrootingforsomethingIdidn’trealiseIwanted.IwanttotellhimthatI’vebeenhaving
fluttersdoingmychilddevelopmentlecturesatcollegeandwonderinghowitwouldfeeltohaveDaddy
Nick’sbabygrowinginsideme.

Iwanttotellhimthatmaybeitwouldn’tbethatbad.ThatmaybeI’mmorereadythanIthoughtIwas,

wantitfarmorethanIeverexpecteditto.

Itellhimnothingofthekind.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

AINE

ELLY

NNE

POURS

usasneakyvodkafromherdad’sbottleandtopsitupwithcheapcola.Sheclinksher

glassagainstmineassheplayssomedrumandbasscompilationIreallydon’tlike,asthoughsimply
havingabitofalcoholiscauseforcelebration.Itdoesn’tfeellikeit.Notsomuch.

I’velearnedsinceherlastbirthdaythatsomecelebrationsreallymeansomething,butitseemsKelly

Annedidn’tgettaggedinthatparticularlifepost.

“Gonnagetsofuckingtrashedtonight!”shetellsme,andmystomachrollsbeforeI’veeventakena

sip.Ihavenodoubtshe’sgonnagetsofuckingtrashedtonight,onlythere’snowayI’llbejoiningherin
that.NotwithDaddyNick’sMercedeswaitinglikeapumpkincarriageasmidnightstrikes.

I’vebeentellingherallweekaboutmycurfew.Ididn’tsayitlikethat,thatit’sacurfew,justthatwe

haveplans.Plans.Wedohaveplansactually.NickisgoingtotakemeshoppingforaChristmasparty
dresstomorrowoncethebirthdaycelebrationisdoneanddusted.Healwayssaysbirthdaycelebration
inthattonenowwhenitcomestoKellyAnne.Hesayseverythinginthatfunnytonewhenitcomesto
KellyAnne.

“Areyouwearingthat?”sheasks,andIstaredownatmyselftoworkoutexactlywhichthatshe’s

referringto.I’mdressedup,forme,wearingoneofthesweetdressesNickboughtmeandapairofsmart
enoughleggingsunderneath.HetoldmeIlookedbeautiful,andIfeltit.I’mnotgoingtoletKellyAnne
ruinthatforme.

“Ilovethisdress,”Itellher.
“Sure,it’snice,”shesays.“Butwe’regoingout.Can’tyouwearsomethingmoredressy?”
Slutty,shemeans.
Herownblacklittlenumberisuptoherassandbarelycovershernipples.
I’veactuallybeenwonderinghowitwouldfeeltowearsomethinglikethat,butonlyforhim,andonly

athome.Onlywhenhiseyesaredarkanddirtyandhewantsmelikethat.

Idefinitelywouldn’twanttowearitforaclubfullofdrunkrandoms,though.
“Ilovethisdress,”Irepeat,andthere’sthatconfidenceinmyvoiceagainthatsurprisesmeeverytime

itcomesout.

“Suityourself,”shesays,anddownstherestofherdrink.
Itakeanothersipofmineandittastesicky.
“Youusedtobemorefunthanthis.”Sherollshereyes.“Thisolderguycrapismakingyousodull,

Laine.”

NotsolongagoitwouldhavehurttohearIwasdull.NotsolongagoI’dhavetriedmybesttomake

herbirthdaythebestnighteveranddownedthatvodkawithherandtoldhershelooksamazing.

BeingwithNickischangingme,she’srightaboutthat.Ifeelitrightthewaythroughme,thewayI

havesomuchlesstimeforhernastyopinions,orherwhiningaboutwhatIshouldandshouldn’tbedoing
asherbestie.Ididn’trealisehowmanylittleconditionsshehasovereverysinglethingwedotogether.

Nickhasrules,butthey’reallforme,forus.KellyAnne’ssillyrulesarefornobodyelsebutherself.
Shechecksherselfinthemirrorforthemillionthtime,andsnapsaselfieanduploadsitwithaloadof

trendyhashtagsforherfakefriendsonFacebook,andthenshegrabsherhandbag.

“Comeon,bestieeeee,”shewhoops.“It’spartytime!”
Icanhardlycontainmyexcitement.

ICK

WISH

shehadn’tgone.Iwishshe’dhavedecidedforherselfthatherfriendKellyAnnetreatsherlikea

pieceofshitonhershoe,keepinghercloseforthesakeofvanityandlittleelse.

ItpainsmethataselfishlittlecowlikethathasmeantsomuchtomysweetLaine,butI’ddroppedher

atherfriend’shouseandkissedherhairandtoldhertohaveagoodtime.

Somelessonsinlifeneedtobelearnedforyourself.
Ikeepaneyeontheclock,eventhoughit’sbarelyscrapedpasteight.Ikeepmyphonecloseby,justin

caseshecallsandwantsmetocomeforher,orif…anythingelsehappenstoher.

Iconcentrateonamonthendreportjusttokeeptheparanoiaatbay.Thedrunks,andthepeople

poppingpills,thepeopleoutforaneasyfuckwithlittleregardforwhotheytakeitfrom.Allthingsthat
mybeautifulgirlistoooptimisticabouthumannaturetoavoid.

Shealwaysseesthebestineveryone,andIloveherforit.Anditworriestheshitoutofme,knowing

she’souttherewiththedregsofSaturdaynightpartyingwithonlyanon-friendtowatchherback,butstill,
Iloveherforherdedicationinpersistingwithit.

Midnight.
I’llseeheratmidnight.
Shehasanalarmonherphonetoletherknowourrendezvouspointislooming,andafullycharged

battery–Icheckedbeforesheleft.Shehasenoughmoneytogetataxiwithinahundredmileradius,
regardlessofhowmanydrinksKellyAnneleechesoutofher.Andshehasme.

I’llbewaiting.

AINE

HIS

CLUB

STINKS

.It’stooloudtotalkproperly,notthatI’dbetalkinganyway.KellyAnneisalreadyfar

moreinterestedinsomedrunkguysthansheisaboutme.Standard.

Somuchforbesties.
SomuchforMason,masterofthefemaleorgasm,too,seemingly.

Ithinkaboutcallingitoff,makingmyexcusesandheadingbackhometoNickwhereIbelong.
WhereIbelong.
It’ssonicetobelongsomewhere.
It’sinterestingthatbeingoutsomewhereIhatemakesitallthemoreobvioushowamazingmylifeis

rightnow.Imean,Iknewit.Iknowiteveryminuteofeveryday,butthis,this…fakepretenceofhavinga
goodtime…I’mreally,reallydonewiththis.

ThisisthelastcrappybirthdaypartyofKellyAnne’sIagreeto.Nextyearshe’llhavetofindsomeof

herfakefriendstohangoutwith.I’mdone.

SheintroducesmetosomewastedguycalledTyler,andIsmilepolitely.Tylertellsmehe’sgotpills,

andItellhimthanksbutdefinitelynothanks,andkeepacloseeyeonmydrinkincaseoneofthosepills
magicallyendsupinthere.

IkeepaneyeonKellyAnne’sdrink,too,ashardasthatiswithherswingingitaroundalloverthe

placeassheflirtsandgrindsandmakesarealslutofherself.

It’sbarelynineandI’malreadyboredtotears.
I’mthinkingofmywarmbedandNick’skisseswhenKellyAnnesnatchesmyphonefrommy

handbag.

“Yeah…forreal!Creepyolddudeboughtherthis!”ShehandsittoTylerandhisidiotfriend,andI

laughintoactionthatfeelssoalientome.Itrytograbitback,butKellyAnnetakesitfromTyler’shand
beforeIcangettoit.Sheholdsitoutofreachassheflicksthroughmyphonegallery,andmyprivacy
feelssopersonallyinvadedthatI’mnotsurewhetherIshouldslapherorcryorboth.“She’sgota
fuckingcurfew,too.LikeCinderella.Talkaboutcreepy.”

Theylaugh.
Shelaughs.
AndforthefirsttimeinmylifeIreallyhateKellyAnne.
Ididn’tevenhateherwhensheleftallmythingswithstrangersandbailedonme,butrightnow,

laughingaboutmylifewithNickandtreatingmelikeasillylittlejoke,IhatehersomuchIwanttostorm
outandneverseeheragain.

IfonlyIfeltokayaboutleavingherwiththesecreeps.
“Giveitback!”Ishoutoverthemusic.“It’snotfunny,KellyAnne!”
Shekeepsflicking,asthoughshe’sgoteveryrighttosnoop,anditirritatesmesomuchIfeelsickto

mystomach.Ihavenothingprivateonthere,notreally,butthatisn’tthepoint.Itreallyisn’tthepoint.

SherollshereyeswhensheseesI’mnotplaying,scrollingjustabitmoretomakeapointbeforeshe

handsitback.

MyheartracesasIcheckitfordamage.Thereisn’tanyandIbreatheinrelief.
IcheckthetimebeforeIputitbacktosafetyinmyhandbag,andit’sonlyjustgoneeighto’clock.Shit.
Thenightisgoingtotakeforever.

ICK

GUESS

HEARING

nothingcouldbeconsideredagoodthing.Maybeshe’sreallyenjoyingherself.Maybe

Lainelikesdrumandbass.Maybeshelikesdancing,too.Ihaven’tyethadenoughtimetofigurethatout.

Maybeshe’shavingsomuchfunwithKellyAnnethatshe’sbarelygivingmeasecondthought,andas

muchasitpainsmenottobethecentreofheruniverseeverywakingminute,I’dbehappyforher.

Iwanthertobehappy.Iwanthertoembracelife,andlaughandloveanddancetodrumandbass,if

that’swhatmakesherhappy.

Ikeepworkingonmyspreadsheet.
Justafewmorehourstogo.

AINE

ELLY

NNE

TOO

DRUNK

tolistentoanythingmuchIhavetosay,butwhenItellherateleventhatImight

makeamoveearlysheseemstohearthatloudandclear.

“NOOO!”shewailsandgripsmywristfordearlife.“Ineeeeedyou,bestie!”
Likehellshedoes.
She’sgrindingawayonTyler’sfriendMickey,tryingtosmilesocoylylikethere’sanychanceshe

won’tbefuckinghimthisevening.Tyleristooclosetomeforcomfort,dancingsoclosewithastupid
grinonhisface.Idanceawayalittle,tryingtokeepabitofdistance,butwhereverIgohefollows.

“I’mserious!”Itellher.“I’mgoingsoon,Kels!Nickwillbewaitingsoonanyway!”
“I’msosickofhearingaboutfuckingNick!”shesnaps.
AndI’msosickofherbullshitandourone-sidedfriendship,butIbitemytongueandkeepdancing.
Itisherbirthday,afterall.

ICK

HEART

inmythroatasthebelltollsmidnight.I’mscouringthestreet,scanningthepeoplewalking

fromclubtoclubforanysightofherbeautifulblondehair.I’veparkedupintherightspot,sothere’sno
confusionwheresheshouldbeheaded,andIhaven’thadanynewsastowhichexactclubthegirlshave
settledon,soIdaren’tleavemyspottoheadinherdirection,justincasewecrosspathsanditleavesher
inthecold.

It’ssnowing,justalittle.TheDecemberaircoldenoughtonumbmyface.Justafewweeksfrom

Christmas,andeveryoneisinhighspirits,everyoneexceptme.

Icheckmyphoneagain.Nothing.Idialhernumberanditgoesstraightthroughtovoicemail.
Nobigdeal.Alotoftheclubsdon’thavegoodphonereception,itcouldbenothing.
Whenmymobileshowsit’stenpastthehourIknowI’mlyingtomyself.

AINE

“I’

REALLY

GOING

NOW

!”Itellher.Iholdupmyphonescreentoshowherthetime.Aquartertomidnight.

Plentyoftimetogetbacktothecar.

Ican’twait.
Thenighthastakenforever.
KellyAnnereallyisdrunknow.Shecanbarelystandup,grippingholdofmyelbowasshepresses

hermouthtomyear.“There’snopoint,”shetellsmeandhervoiceisslurry.Theguyslaugh,inonsome
secretjokeatmyexpense,I’msure.

“Whatever,Kels,letmetakeyouhome.I’msureNickwon’tmind.”
Sheshakesherheadandthere’sthatcackleshegivesmewhenshe’sbeingabitch.“There’snopoint!”

shelaughs.“Hewon’tbethere!”Sheclinksherglassagainstmine.Mine’sthesameoneIboughtwhenwe
steppedintheplace,andIhaveabsolutelynointentionoffinishingit.I’mabouttotellherthatofcourse
he’llfuckingbethere,butshe’slaughingsohardshewouldn’thearme.Someonewalksovermygrave,
andIgetthishorriblesinkingfeeling,justlikeIdidwhenIcameoutofthetoiletsandknewshewasgone.
“Ichangedyourclock!”shelaughs.“WhenIhadyourphoneearlier!Ichangedtheclock!”

Mybloodrunscold.
Shesqueezesmyarm.“Hemakesyousoboring,Laine!Curfewthisandcurfewfuckingthat.He’stoo

fuckingold!Youshouldbehavingfun!”

Ihatemyselfforbeingsostupid,holdingupthehandsettofindithasnosignalinthisshittyplace.
“Youwouldn’t…”Istart,andI’mshakingmyhead,notreallywantingtobelieveit,eventhoughmy

gutknowsit’strue.

Sheholdsupherownphone,andshe’ssoproud.Sofuckingproudofherassholemove.
00:47
Shit.Nearlyanhourlate.
Iwishthegroundwouldswallowmeup.
“Fuckyou,”Isay,andIcan’tbelievethewordscomeout.
Hereyesarewideeventhroughherdrunkenness.“What?!”
“FUCKYOU!”Iscream,andIdon’tcareanymore.Ipushmywaypastherandheadfortheexit,

pushingthroughthedrunkidiotsuntilIgettothecloakrooms,everystepwobblyanddesperateasmy
heartpoundsandmyhandsettriesfruitlesslytoconnecttothemobilenetwork.

Ahandonmyarmnearlypullsmeover,andforasecondI’mbackintheroadasitrains,Daddy

Nick’shandstartlingmefrommypanic.

Onlyit’snotNick.It’sKellyAnne,andshehasthefuckinggalltolookpissedatme.“Don’tfucking

go!”shesnaps.

“Leavemealone,”Itellher.“Justleavemealone,Kels.”
“It’smyBIRTHDAY!”shescreams.“You’remyBESTFUCKINGFRIEND!”
ButI’mnot.
She’snofuckingfriendofmine.
“I’mnotyourfriend,”Itellher.“Youjustusemetopropyourselfupwhenthere’snobodycooler.”
ShelookslikeI’veslappedher,andI’vegotnotimeforthis.Iturnawayfromherbutshewon’tlet

go.“No,Laine!Youusemetopropyourselfup!Noneofmyotherfriendswanttohangwithmebecause
ofyou.”Idon’twanttohearit,butshewon’tletgoofmywrist.“Youknowwhattheysayaboutyou,
right?Theycallyousimple.Theycallyouboringbitch.MaryVernonsaysyou’resodullthatyoumake
herearsbleed.That’swhyIhavenofriendstohangoutwith,Laine!Becauseofyou!”

Ithurts.
Ithurtslikesheintendsitto.
ButnotnearlysomuchasknowingImissedmycurfew.
“Fuckyou,KellyAnne,I’mdone,”Itellher.I’mcalmandImeanit.Ireallyfuckingmeanit.
Itugawayfromherandheadforthestreet,andthistimeshedoesn’tfollowme.
“HEDOESN’TFUCKINGLOVEYOU!”shescreams.“NOBODYDOES!”

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

AINE

I’

NEVER

RUN

FAST

inmylife.MyfeetbarelytouchthefloorasIpoundthebeachfront,myheartinmy

throatasIrealisewhatI’vedone.Whatshe’sdone.

I’moutofbreathasIseehiscarinthedistance,butIstillkeeprunning,andthenIseehim,andhe’s

runningtoo.

IslamintohisbodyandwrapmyarmsaroundhisneckandIwanttotellhimhowsorryIambutno

wordswillcome.

“What,Laine?!Whatisit?What’sgoingon?”Hishandsareinmyhair,onmycheeks,checkingmeall

over,andhiseyesarewideandpetrified.

Istruggleforbreath,anditpainssomuchtoseewhatI’vedone.
“Nothing…”Iwheeze.“Notlikethat…itwasKellyAnne!Shechangedmyclock!Ididn’tknow!I

swearIdidn’tknow!”

Hiseyesaresohurtasherealises.Sohurt.
Itmakesmefeellikeshituponshit.Istrugglenottocry,butIdon’tdeservetocry,notafterbeingso

stupid.I’vebeensostupid.

Ireallyamnaive.Justastupidfuckingidiot.JustlikeKellyAnnesays.
“Yougaveheryourphone?”heasks,andit’ssoangryandpointedthatmytummyflips.
“No!Shetookit!Iwouldn’t!Ididn’t!”
“I’vebeenwaitinghereanhour,Laine.Awholefuckinghour.”He’ssohurt,hiseyessoscared.“I

wasoutofmyfuckingmind,Laine!Petrified!Doyouhaveanyfuckingideawhatthat’slike?Doyouhave
anyfuckingidea?”

No.Idon’t.
BecauseI’veneverlostanybody.Notlikehehas.
ButI’mbeginningtogetasenseofit.BecauseI’mpetrifiedoflosinghimrightnow.Petrifiedof

losingeverything.

“I’msorry,”Iwhisper,andmyvoicesoundspatheticandsmall.“I’msosorry,Nick.”
There’snoDaddythistime,buthedoesn’tevennotice.He’sstaringpastme,intothedistance,hisjaw

grittedandhiseyessosad.

“Getinthefuckingcar,”hesays.

ICK

TERRIBLE

CONCOCTION

ofreliefandanger.Hurt,too.

HurtthatsomeoneaslovingandspecialasLainecoulddosomethingsostupidandreckless.
MytemplespoundasIdrive,mygutchurningandtwisted.
“I’msorry,”shesaysagain,butitdoesnothingtocalmmymood.
Ihavenothingtosay,notlikethis.NotwhileI’mstillwiredandontheedge,chasedbydemonsI’ve

triedsohardtoignore.Demonsthatknowexactlyhowitfeelstoloseeverything.

Ipullthroughthegatesandparkup,slamthecardoorasIheadforthefrontdoor.Lainefollowslikea

shadow,herfingersclaspedtighttogetherandhereyesonthefloor.

Iclosethedoorbehindus,andthenIlockit,barricadingusinasthoughshe’sstillindanger.
Onlyshewasn’tindanger,onlyreckless.Trusting.Fartootrusting.
“I’msorry,”shewhispers.“I’msosorry,Nick,Iswear.”
Ipourherajuice,unsureofhowmuchshe’shadtodrinkalready,anddigoutabottleofwhiskyfrom

myfather’svintagestashandpourmyselfahealthymeasure.Shewatchesme,staringwithbigdoeeyes.

“Icango,”shewhispers.“Ifyouwant…Icango…”
“Youaren’tgoingfuckinganywhere!”Isnarl.“Notfuckinganywhere,Laine.You’refucking

grounded!Forever,Laine,for-fucking-ever!”

Grounded.Itsoundssofuckingstupid.
Shenodsanyway.“Okay.”
“No!”Isnap.“It’snotokay,Laine!It’sreallynotokay!”
Istareatthegirlinfrontofme,onlyshe’snotagirl,notreally.Ican’tkeepherinacage,can’tprotect

herfromeverything,can’tkeeppretendingshe’saninfantwhoneedsmetodressherandwashherand
wipeherdirtyass.

Itallfallsaway,thisillusorygamewe’replaying.
She’snotJane.
She’snotLouisa,either.
She’sjusther.Ayoungwomanwho’sneverknownlove.Who’sneverknownwhatitfeelsliketobe

caredfor.

Andthat’swhatshewantsfromme.
Shewantslove.Notjustkinkydaddyplay,oranewphone,oradailycallatlunchtime.Shewants

love.Actuallove,asanactualyoungwomanwithsomeonewhotreatsherright.

“Talktome,”shewhispers.“Please.”
Idon’tknowwheretostart.
Shetakesastepcloserandhereyesaresoeagerforreassurance.“Pleasetalktome.”
“Iwasscared,”Itellher.“SoscaredIcouldn’tthinkstraight.”
Shenods.“Iwasscaredtoo.ScaredbecauseIknewhowscaredyou’dbe.ScaredbecauseI’dhurt

yousobad.”Herliptrembles.“ScaredbecauseIthoughtI’dlosteverything,allforthesakeofsomeone
whoneverevengaveashitaboutme.ScaredI’druinedtheonlygoodthingI’veeverhad.”

Herwordspang.“Youhaven’tlostanything,Laine.I’mstillrighthere.I’mjustfuckingangry.”
Shenods.“Angrybecauseofme.Scaredbecauseofme.”
“ScaredbecauseofthatstupidselfishbitchKellyAnnemorespecifically.”
Sheshrugs.“Ishouldhavestoppedher.Shouldhavechecked.”
“Yes,”Iagree.“Youshouldhave.”
“It’llneverhappenagain…”shesays.

“No,”Itellher.“Itwon’t.”
Shesipsatherjuice,andshe’sthinking,hergazedartingaroundtheroomasshetussleswithsome

courseofactionoranother.“Youcouldpunishme,”shesays.“Likeyourfatherdid,withthebelt.I
deserveit,Daddy.Ideserveeverything.”

Ifeelthebeaststir,takingadvantageoftheadrenaline.It’ssoeasytowantthat.Soeasytoseekout

controlinthewayIlearnedfrommyfatherandhelearnedfromhis.Thebeltishangingonthehook
behindthestudydoor,inthesameplaceheusedtokeepit.

TheprospectoftanningLaine’sprettylittlebacksideandmakinghersufferforherrecklessnessisso

fuckingtempting.

“Neverangry,”Itellher.“Myfatherneverdisciplinedmeinanger,Laine.”
“Butyourfatherneverlostanyone,”shewhispers.“Notlikeyoudid.”
That’strueenough.
“Idon’tmind,”shesays.“Really,Daddy,Idon’tmind.”
Hereyesaresoadoring,soeagertomakeitallbetter.Maybethebeltwoulddothat,forgeabondof

respectthatnosillylittlebitchlikeKellyAnnewilleverstandachanceofbreaking.

“It’llhurt,”Itellher,andshenods.
“Iknowitwill,Daddy.”
“Youdon’t,”Isay.“Youdon’tknowatall.”
“Idon’tcare,”shesays.
Idowntherestofmywhisky.
“Gothroughtothestudy,”Itellher.

AINE

NERVES

ARE

FIRE

,tummychurningsobadIfeellikeIcouldthrowup,butImakemywayalongthe

hallwayandopenthedoortothestudywithoutasinglemoment’shesitation.

Iwantthis.IwanttopleaseNickandmakehimfeelbetter.Iwanttomakehimfeelsafe.Iwanthimto

knowIreallyamagoodgirl.

IwanthimtoknowthatIreallyamsorry.
Heisn’tfarbehind,andmybreathcatchesasheclosesthedoorbehindus.Thebeltswishesonthe

hookasitslams,andIwonderifI’mreallyreadyforthis.

“Overthedesk,”hetellsme.“Onyourfront.”
Ilowermyselfsocarefully,pressingmycheektotheleatherinlay.Itsmellsrichandwoody,likeold

booksandscotch.

IimagineNickhere,inthisverysameposition.Iwonderifhisheartusedtoracelikemineisnow.
Heliftsmydress,andtugsdownmyleggingsandmyknickerswithoutsayingaword.
Theairfeelscold.Myskinfeelsprickly.
MymouthfeelssodryIcanhardlyswallow.
“Six,”hesays.“I’mgoingtogiveyousix.NotbecauseI’mangry,butbecauseyoudeserveit.”
“Naughtygirlsneeddiscipline,”Iwhisper.
“Disciplineshowscare,Laine.”
“Iknow,”Itellhim.“Iknow,DaddyNick.”
“Iloveyou,Laine,”hetellsmeandI’msosadforwhatI’vedonethatithurtsmorethanhisbeltever

could.

“Iloveyoutoo,Daddy.”
“Six,”herepeats.“Andyou’lllearnyourlesson.”
I’vealreadylearnedit,butthatdoesn’tmatter.Nothingmattersbutus.NothingmattersbutlovingNick

andhimlovingmeback.NothingmattersbutmakingsureIneverhurthimagain.

Igaspastheleatherglidesacrossmyasscheeks.“Thisisgoingtohurt,”hesays.Hegivesmeatap,

andtheleatherfeelssosmoothagainstmybareskin.

Iwonderhowmanytimesit’sbeenusedforthis.
Iholdmybreath.Griptheedgeofthedesksotightly.
AndthenIwait.
Silence.
Onelongemptysilence.
“Iloveyousomuch,sweetheart,”hewhispers.
Andthenhehitsme.
Isquealandjoltforwardonthedesk,andmybreathcatches.
Itsears.Itreallyfuckingsears.
BurnssobadIfidgetfromfoottofoot.
“One,”hesays.
Idon’twanttwo,andIknowit.
Ireallydon’twanttwo.
Icryoutwhenitlands,anditsoundssopatheticanddesperate.
Thetearscomesoeasily,fillingmyeyesandspillingover.
“Two,”hesays,andmybodyjoltswiththesecrazysobsthatmakemefeellikeababy.“You

understandwhyI’mdoingthis?”heasks.

Inod.Idounderstand.
Iaskedforit.Ineverysenseoftheword.
Isquealagainwhenitlandsforthethirdtime.
Ababy,I’msuchafuckingbaby.
“Three.”
Ilurchforwardandwaillikeabansheeasfourstrikes,andmyassisonfire.
“Four.”
Icryopenlyatthenext,nolongercaringhowIlook,orifItakemypunishmentwellforhim.
Idon’tcareaboutanythingmuchapartfromtheburn.
“Five.”
Iclosemyeyesforsix.Andhewaits.
Hewaitsuntilmysobsease,andmybodystopsshaking.
HewaitsuntilItwistmyheadtolookathimandblinkthroughthetears.
“Haveyoulearnedyourlesson,Laine?”heasksandInod.
“Yes,Daddy.”
Hedropsthebelt.
Nosix.
Itmakesthetearscomealltheharder.
Andthistimehe’sthere.PullingmeupandholdingmeandsmoothingmyhairasIcry.
Ihavenorighttocry,butDaddyNickdoesn’tseemtocareaboutthat.DaddyNickissowarmand

kind.

Soloving,evenwhenI’vecausedhimsomuchpain.
“Itoldyouitwouldhurt,”hesays,andInodagainsthischest,myweteyessoakingthroughthefabric

ofhisshirt.

IhopeIdon’tsnotonhim,butIdoubthe’dcaresomuchanyway.
Heputshishandsonmycheeksandtipsmyfacetohisandhiseyesaren’tangryanymore,justscared.
“I’llneverusethebeltonyouagain,”hesays.“You’renotalittlegirl,Laine.Wejustliketopretend

youare.”

Astrangesobfrommythroat,andI’mnodding.I’mreallynodding.
AndI’mhappy,andsad,andrelieved,andscared,andeverythinginbetween.
“Thankyou,Nick,”Isay.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

ICK

AINE

NEEDED

tobecaredfor,justasIneededtocareforher.Bothneedingthatspecialsomeonetoslotso

nicelyintotheirbrokenparts.

Itwasbeautiful.
Itstillisbeautiful.
Butthisgamecan’tbeallweare,notanymore.
IpourherawhiskyasIpourmyselfone.“It’llhelpcalmyoudown,”Isay.
Shemanagesasmile.
Itakeaseatatthetableoppositeandwesitinasilencenolongersimmeringwithconflict.
We’repastthatnow.
Mydemonshavebackedawayintotheirshadowypit,andthegirlinfrontofmenolongerlookslike

hersoulisbreaking.

“TellmeaboutKellyAnne,”Isay.“Notjustaboutwhatacowsheis,butaboutwhyyoueverliked

herinthefirstplace.”

“Youreallywanttoknow?”
Inod.“Ireallywanttoknow.Itwaspartofyou,Laine.Iwanttounderstandwhy.Maybethatwaywe

canstopiteverhappeningagain.”

“Itwon’thappenagainanyway.I’mdonewithher.”
Ibelieveher.Hereyesarefullofthepainofbetrayal.
Iknowit’satoughpilltoswallow.
Shetakesamoment,spinningtheemptytumbleronthetableassheclearsherhead.
Iunderstandthatwellenough,becauseI’mstillclearingminetoo.
“Ididn’thaveanyone,”shesays.“IwasshywhenIstartedschool.I’dneverdonenursery,orbeen

aroundotherkidsbefore.ItwasalwaysjustmeandMum,andIwasscaredallthetime,worriedthatshe
wasn’tcomingback.”Shesmilessadly.“Mainlybecauseshedidn’tcomebacksometimes.Men,orwork,
orwhatever.She’dleavemewiththeneighbour.Anoldwomanwhosmelledofcheese.”

“Cheese?”
“Greencheese.”Shewrinkleshernose.“Shewasniceenoughbutshereallystunk.”
“AndKellyAnnewasthere?”
Shenods.“KellyAnnewasabossyboots.Ifeltsosafewithher,becauseshewasn’tscaredof

anything.”

“Andshewasnicetoyou?”
Sheshrugs.“Mostofthetime.I’dfollowheraroundevenwhenshewasboredofme.She’dplaywith

otherkids,andI’djustwatch.Waitinguntiltheyargued,becauseshe’darguewithpeoplealot,andmake
sureIwastheretopickupthepieces.ImadesureIwasuseful,justsoshe’dkeepmearound.”

“That’snotfriendship,Laine.Notreally.”
“Iknowthatnow,”shesays.“ButIneverwantedtoseeitthatwaybefore.Ineverwantedtolookat

it.It’simpossibletocarryondoingwhatyou’vealwaysdoneifyourealiseit’sfullofbullshitandlies.”

“Igetthat,”Isay.“Youwantedittobereal.”
“Yeah,”shesays.“IguessIdid.”Shespinstheglass.“KellyAnnewasalwayssoselfish.Shewas

onlyreallyinterestedinwhatshewanted.Whereshewantedtogoorwhatshewantedtoplayorwhoshe
wantedtofuck.Iwasjustanaccessory,likeahandbag.She’dtellmestoriesandmakethemsoundso
amazing.IguessshefeltsocoolknowingIwassonot.”

“Coolmeansshit,sweetheart.”
“IthinkIknowthatnow,too.”Shesmilesasadsmileatme.“Themorecoolersheseemed,theolder

sheseemed.ThemorechildishIfelt,thesaferIfelt.SamewithMum.OnlyMumreallycouldn’ttakecare
ofherself,notaroundworkandallhermentrouble.SoIhadtobeamumtoMum.Amumtoheranda
sillylittlesadfriendtoKellyAnne,andsomewhereitallgotmessedup.”

“Lifecangetallmessedup,Laine.Butwecanstraightenitoutagain.”
Atearrollsdownhercheek.“Ihopeso.BecauseI’mhappierthanI’veeverbeen.Ididn’tknowwhat

itwouldfeelliketohavesomeonewhoreallylovedme.Ididn’tknowhowsafeI’dfeelwithsomeone
whocouldtakecareofme.”

“Ifeelsafetoo,”Iadmit.“IfeelsafewhenIbelieveIhavecontroloverasituation.Overyou.ButI

don’t.Idon’thavecontroloveryou,Laine,andthat’salright.Ishouldn’teverhavecontroloverwhoyou
are,orwhatyouwanttodo.Icansupportyou,Icancareforyou,butnotcontrolyou.”

Shedoesn’tlookconvinced,butIam.
Lovehastobefree.Alivelikeabutterfly,notpinnedtoamountlikethespecimensI’vebeenkeeping

forsolong.

Jane’sroomwastheperfectbelljar.Preservedsoperfectly,justwaitingformetofillitwithanother

littlegirltoreplacetheoneIlost.

Asecondchanceatthesamedream.
Onlynotwodreamscaneverbethesame.
“Iloveyou,”shesays.“Ireallyloveyou.Notbecauseofwhatyoudoforme,butbecauseyou’re

honestandcaringandseeeverythingIwanttoseeinmyself.”

“Iloveyoutoo,Laine.Notbecauseyou’remylittlegirl,orbecausewesharesomeweirdkinkthat

nobodyelseunderstands.Iloveyoubecauseyouhaveabeautifulsoul.”

Shesmilessobrightly.“Idon’tneedKellyAnneanymore.”
Ireachforherhandacrossthetableandsqueeze.“Jane’sgone,”Itellher.“Louisa,too.AndI’m

readytoletthemrestnow,Laine.We’redifferent.”

“We’reus,”shesays.“Iwanttobeus.”
“SodoI,sweetheart.”
Herfingerslooksosmallinmine.“So,whatnow?”
“Wegotobed,”Itellher.“Tomorrowisanewday.”
Shenods.“I’dlikethatverymuch.”

AINE

FEEL

likeI’vecriedforalifetimeasIwashmyfaceinthebathroom.Mycheeksarepuffyandmyeyes

aretired.

ButIfeelgood.LikeI’vedumpedahorribleweight.
IguessKellyAnne’sbeennothingbutadrainonmeforlongerthanIcanremember.
IwonderhowdifferentlifewouldhavebeenifI’dhavestoppedclingingontoherallthoseyearsago.

IwonderifI’dhavemadeotherfriends,livedanotherlife.

IwonderifI’dhavegrownup.
IfeellikeI’mgrowingupnow.
Andthat’sweird.Itseemssosillythatbeingcaredforasachildwaswhatturnedmeintoawoman.
IsmiletomyselfandNicksmilesback.
“Whataday,”hesays.
“I’mpooped,”Itellhim,andhenods.
“Metoo.”
Iholdhishandashestepsontothelanding,waitingforhimtoopenJane’sdoorlikehealwaysdoes.

Butnottoday.

Hestepsonpast,andmyheartpoundsasheopensadifferentdoor.Theonetohisroom.
I’vebarelyeverbeeninthere.
Heflicksonthebedsidelightandpullsbackthecoversforme.
“Thisismybed,”hetellsme,likeitneedsexplaining.“I’llclearoutsomewardrobespaceforyouin

themorning.”

Inod.“Thanks.”
Itfeelssoweirdtoslipintohisgrownupsheets.They’regrey.Sostylishandgrownup.
Andsoft.
They’resoft,too.
Hepullsmecloseandkissesmyhair,andIknowhe’llneverbeDaddyNickinthisplace.Itjust

doesn’tfit.

Andthatfeelsokay.
Itfeelsjustfine.
“Goodnight,Laine,”hesaysandthewordsrolloffmytonguesoeasily.
“Goodnight,Nick.”
Hesqueezesmealittlebittighter,andIknowwe’regoingtobejustfine.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

AINE

’

strangetowakeinsuchabigbed,butthere’ssomuchmoreroomforstretchingoutin.Ikickoutmy

legsandenjoythespace,andNickisrightbesidemewithaquietsmileonhisface.

“Morning,sleepyhead.”
“Morning,Nick.”
Nick.
It’sgoingtotakesomegettingusedto.Howfunny,howthingschange.We’vebeenonarollercoaster,

himandI.Itclimbedsohighsofast,andthenittumbled,soscaryasthetrainspedoverthedrop.But
we’restillontherails,andsomehowIthinkwe’llbeclimbingevenhigherthistime.

It’slate,Icantellbythelightatthewindow.Itakeinthesurroundings,andit’sniceinhere,inhis

space.Ilikeit.

IlookatthebedsidecabinetonmysideandwonderwhatI’llfillitwith.Iwonderwhichwardrobe

I’llhangmyclothesin,andifitwouldbeappropriatetobringMrTedinheretoo.

“Areyouhungry?”heasks.
Ishakemyhead,andI’mnottoday.I’mreallynot.
Istrokehisface,mythumbbrushingoverhisshadowystubble,andIwanthimsomuchitmakesmy

toescurl.

“Iknowthatexpression,”hetellsme,andkissesmyfingers.
AndIknowhis.
I’mcomingtoknoweverything.Everyoneofhissmiles.
Andhisfrowns.I’veseenafewofthosenowtoo.
Hekissesmeandhislipsaresoftandwarm.Histongueisgentletoday,tastingmesoslowly.I

breatheintohimandtanglemyfingersinhishair,mylegsreachingforhis,mykneehookingunderand
guidinghimclose.

Itfeelssonatural,thewayhemoves,positioninghimselfabovemewithhisweightonhiselbows.I

hookmyanklesaroundhiscalves,andmybodyknowshowthisworksnow.Itknowshowtotipmyhips
justrightandhowtoshiftmyselfunderneathhim.

He’ssohard,rubbinghimselfjustright,thelengthofhimpressedjustwhereIneedhim.
ButIdon’twantitlikethistoday.Iwantittobedifferent.New.
IsmileasIpushmyhandtohischest,lovingthewayhiseyesshowsuchsurpriseasIwriggleout

fromunderhimandurgehimtomove.

Nicklookssodifferentonhisback,hiscocksoproudasIworkitinmyfingers.
Isuckhim,andhegroans.Heraiseshisarmsandreststhembehindhishead,andhislegspartso

willingly.

He’smine.
Andtodaythisismyshow,myway.
Itfeelsamazingtobeincontrol.
KellyAnnewaswrongaboutsex,justlikeshewaswrongaboutsomanythingsItookherwordon.
Tobesexydoesn’tmeanyouhavetowearashortskirtandbrightredlipstick.Itdoesn’tmeanyou

havetodoastripteaseorputonsomeepicperformance.

Itjustmeansbeingconfident.Beingyourself.
Beingsexymeansbeingme.
AndtodayIwanttobeme.I’mgoodenoughforNicktoloveme,andthatmakesmegoodenoughfor

metoo.

I’veneverbeenontopbefore.Itfeelssoalientostraddlehim,butIlikeit.
Iplaywithmyclitandhewatcheswithoutmoving.Hiseyesaredark,butnotfierce,eventhoughhe

letsoutthesamelowgroanasIpositionhiscockandlowermyselfontohim.

ImovejustasIwantto,myhipscirclingandmylittletitsbouncingjustasmuchastheycanbounce,

andthepressureinsidebuildssoeasilythisway.

Itfeelsamazing.
Everythingfeelsamazing.
“Beautiful,”hesays,andIfeelit.Idofeelbeautiful,soexposedandondisplay.
Ileanforward,andkisshim,andtheangleisjustright.Itmustberightforhimtoo,becausehisbreath

isfastandragged,andhishipsthrustrightbackatme.

“Fuck,”hegroans.“Fuck,Laine,thatfeelsincredible.”
Iknowitdoes.Itfeelsperfect.Perfectenoughthatmymovementsarefranticandmythighsaretense.
I’mgoingtocome,andIknowthat,butit’sdifferent.Thisfeelsdifferent.
Biggeranddeeperand…
Andfuck.
Fuck.
Oh,fuck.Fuck,fuck,fuck.
Idon’tknowifI’vesaiditaloudandIdon’tcare.Mysensesarefried,mynervessparkinglikecrazy,

andmywholefuckingbodyshudders.

Andthenhecomestoo.
AndIfeelit.Ifeelitsowellinthisposition.
Ididit.
IdiditallandI’msoproud.
Hepullsmeintohisarmsandholdsmetight,andIgiggle.Ican’tstopgiggling.
HeholdsmeuntilI’mquiet,andthenhebrushesthehairfrommyforehead,staresatmewitheyesthat

letmeknowheenjoyeditasmuchasIdid.

“Youmustbehungrynow,”hesays.

ICK

ABSOLUTELY

REFUSE

toexpressanopinionuntilLainehaswhittledherdresschoicedowntothree.Iwantit

tobeherdecision,exactlythedressshewants.

She’ssurprisedme,butthatinitselfisn’tsurprising.She’salwayssurprisingme.
Herthreechoicesaresogrownup.Tastefulgownsindarkcolours,richnavyormulledwine.
Icanhardlycontainmyselfassheslipsintothedressingroomtotrythemon,andwhenshestepsout

inthebluedressIlosethepowerofspeech.

Shereallydoestakemybreathaway.
“Ilikeit,”shetellsme.“Ilikeitalot.”Shesmiles.“Infact,IthinkIloveit.”
Shedoesatwirlandthefabricswishes.It’shighlightedwithdiamante,tinylittlestonesthatlooklike

starsonanightsky.

“IthinkIloveit,too,”Itellher.“Verymuch.”Isigh.“Youlookgorgeous,Laine.”
“Thisisthedress,”shesays.“Ijustknowit.”
Sheturnsaroundformyhelpwiththezip,andit’ssonicetobrushmyfingersdownherspine.
“Thenwe’dbettergopayforit,”Isay.

I’

NEVER

BEEN

proudasIamtohavemybeautifulLaineonmyarmattheChristmasparty.

Hereyesarestillbrightandshiningwithinnocentwonder,butmylittlegirlisn’talittlegirl,notwith

hermakeupon.

She’smostcertainlyayoungwomanthisevening.
MichaelFrenchhandsheraglassofchampagne,andnudgesmetoconveyhisapproval.
“I’veheardsomuch,”hetellsher.“Allgood,ofcourse.”
“I’msopleasedtomeetyou,”shesays,andshemeansit,Icantell.
“Thisismywife,Barbara,andmydaughterCaroline.”Ismileaswarmlyasshedoes,anditthrills

measCarolinestrikesupconversation.

Maybetheyreallycouldbefriends.
I’dlikemysweetLainetohavenicefriends.

“T

HEY

’

NICE

!”shegushesandlandsakissonmycheek.“Carolinesaidshe’shereforweeksuntil

she’sbackatuni,suggestedwegototheirsfortheirBoxingDayparty.”

“Wouldyoulikethat?”
Shenods.“I’dlovethat.Ilovemeetingyourfriends,Nick.”
I’mcertaintheylovemeetingher,too.PennyandMike,andTrevorfromIT.SomanypeopleI’veseen

everydayandgivennothoughttowhatsoever.

That’sallgoingtochange.
I’mgoingtochange.Hell,we’vechangedsomuchalready,LaineandI.
Ithinkthere’llbeplentyofnewdevelopmentsthiscomingyear,notleastthelittlebumpLaineseems

eagertohaveinherbelly.

We’vetalkedaboutitproperly,justlikeweshouldhavedonebeforeIunloadedmycumintoher

pussyateveryopportunity.

She’syoung,butnotthatyoung,andI’mcertainlynotgettinganyyoungermyself.
Istillwanttobeabletodoeverythinggoodfathersdo.
Iwanttotrekthroughthecountrysidewithourbutterflynets,andbethereforthemuntilthey’replenty

oldenoughtotakecareofthemselves.

Ihavetime,butit’sticking.

NECKLACE

SLY

littletest.Ipresentitinitssweetlittlebox,andwatchherexpressionasIopenit.

Thedisappointmentisonlyfleeting,butit’sthere.
Anecklacenotaring.
Butit’sbeautiful,andthethinkssotoo.
“Oh,Nick…OhmyGod…”
“Adiamondformysweetheart,”Itellher,andstepbehindhertofastenitaroundherneck.“Ican’t

takethecredit,”Iadmit.“Pennychoseit.You’llhavetothankherforherexcellenttaste.”

“I’mthankingyou,”shesays.“I’llshowyouhowmuchIloveitlater.”
AndthensheheadsofftofindPenny.
Hernew-foundconfidenceamazesme.
Everythingaboutheramazesme.
SomehowIthinkBarbaraFrenchreallywillneedtobebuyingahatforourbigday.
Andsoon.
Verysoon.
Ican’twaituntilmysweetlittleLaineSeabourneissweetlittleLaineLynch.

EPILOGUE

AINE

TELLS

memyoldhouseisfinished.Goodasnewhesays.

Ikickoffmyheelsandthankhim,butitfeelssofarawaythatplace.
IguessitwillbeniceforMumshouldsheevercomeback.
Maybeshe’llbebackforChristmas.MaybeI’llgetatext.
Maybeshe’llevencometodinnerwithNickandme.
MaybeIdon’treallycarethatmuchanymore.

I’

EXCITED

aboutmyownlifenow.

I’mexcitedaboutfinishingupmycollegecourse,eventhoughNicktellsmeheearnsenoughforboth

ofus.Forallofus.Forthechildrenweplantohaveandthelifewewanttolead.Enoughforeverything.

Atleastchildstudiesputsmeinanalrightpositiontohavebabiesofmyown.
IwantsomanyofNick’sbabies.

SAYS

he’sgoingtoredecorateJane’sroom.Anewroomfornewlittlepeoplewhentheycomealong.

He’salreadystartedboxingupherthings.
He’smovedherDaDDydrawingtothecorkboardinthepantry.Itracemyfingersaroundtheletters

sometimes,andwonderwhatitwillbeliketohavealittlegirlofmyownsomeday.

Nickthrewthebeltfromthestudyintothefire,saidhedoesn’tneedthatanymoreeither.
Hesaysthatdisciplinedoesn’tneedtobecrueltobekind,andsomerulesaremadetobebroken.

That’slifehesays.

Thethoughtofhishandonmyassstillgivesmetickles,andIthinkthatmaybeI’llhavetobea

naughtygirlsometime,justtogooverhiskneeagain.

Ireallyamdirtythesedays,andthat’soktoo.

I’

BEEN

TRYING

tofindawaytotellhim.TryingtofindawaytoshowhimwhatIwantwithoutitfeeling

icky.

Imeanhowickycanitbetoplayalittlewhenyou’vegotsomeone’sengagementringonyourfinger?

Itdoesn’tgetmuchmoregrownupthanthat.

I’veonlygotabitoftimeleftbeforeJane’spinkroomisallgone.Herbedisstillthereandherpink

curtainstoo,buttheywon’tstay.Notforever.

Mypinkrobestillhangsonthebackofthedoor,evenifherfairycastlehasbeenputawayinthe

garage.Ihaveanewrobenow,andit’spurple,notpink.

Ievenhavelacyunderwearthesedaystoo.IfIcouldforgiveKellyAnneenoughtospeakwithher,

I’msureshe’dlaugh.

HELP

Nickchopupthevegetablesfordinner,andmyengagementringsparklesinthelight.Istoptostare

andhegrabsmefrombehind,landshotkissesonthebackofmyneckuntilIsqueal.

“Lessofthemagpieact,morechoppingplease,sweetheart,”hesays.“I’mlookingforwardtoanearly

night.”

Iam,too.
I’vebeencravinganearlynightallweek.
It’stherighttime,myovulationapptellsmeso.
Ihopetonight’sthenighthiscumgivesmealittlebabyofourown.

LEADS

meupstairswhenwe’redoneeating,andIstillfollowsoclosetohim,everhislittleshadow.

Hisfingerssqueezemineasheheadsforourbedroom,butIstop,myheelsdiggingintothecarpet.
Heturnsbackandstaresatme,hiseyesdarkinthewayIlovesomuch.
“Whatisit?”hesays.
Ismilesoshyly,andmycheeksburn.MyclitsoticklyasIthinkaboutmyguiltylittlepleasure.
I’vebeenthinkingaboutitalotlately.
“Ijust…Iwasthinking…”
“Spititout,sweetheart,”hesays.“Nosecrets,remember?”
Inod,thenglanceatJane’sdoor,andheknows.Hejustknows.
He’ssmilingashestepscloser,andI’msmilingtooashehitchesupthehemofmydress.
“Isee,”hesays,andhedoessee.
Hiseyesburnashestaresatmyplaincottonknickers,white,justashelikedsomuch.
“Haveyoubeenanaughtygirl,Laine?ThinkingdirtythoughtsaboutJane’ssweetpinkbed?”
Mybreathhitches.Myclittickles.
“Maybe…”Isay.
“Maybe?”
Ismile.“Maybealittle…”
Iworrythatmaybehe’sdonewiththis,maybeitwillbetooweirdforhimwithustryingforababy

andall,andIsuddenlyfeelanidiotforpullingastuntlikethiswithoutasking,andmaybeIshould’ve-

Hislipsstopmymindwhirring,andhistongueissofiercejustlikeitusedtobe.
Hesqueezesmynipples,pinchingthemjustenoughtomakemegasp,andhe’sgroaning,hardagainst

mybellyhisthighpressesbetweenmineandrubs.

“Wedon’thaveto…”Ibegin,justtobesure.“Imean,ifit’sweird,Nick,wedon’thaveto…Ijust

thought…forfun…”

HiseyesaredarkerthanI’veseentheminweeks.Hissmirkdirtyenoughtomakemytummytickle.
“CallmeDaddy,”hesays,andopensthedoor.

THEEND

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Asalways,somanypeopletothank.

Myincredibleeditor,JohnHudspith,whoreallypulledoutallthestopsonthis,asalways.Johnny,for

real,thiswasanamazingride.Icouldn’tdothiswithoutyou.

LetitiaHasser,fortheinsanelyawesomecover.RBADesigns,everyone.Suchtalent!
TracySmithComerford,forbeingmyconstantsoundingboardandworkinglikeatrooper.
MichelleMcGintyandLesleyEdwards,foryoursupportasalways.
LouiseRamsay,yourbetafeedbackisalwayssoinsightful.
Mydirtygirlsandboys,Iloveyouall,andthegroupmakesmesmilesohard.
ToalltheamazingauthorsI’mluckyenoughtocallmyfriends,andallthebloggersandreaderswho

sotirelesslysupportme.Youareallamazing.I’mbothgratefulandhonoured.

Myfriends,whoputupwillallmyincessantbooktalkandcrazysleepschedule.Maria,Lisa,Dom,

Hanni,Kate,Marie,Tom,Jo,James,Siobhan…someofyousonearandsomeofyousofar…Iloveyou
all.

Myfamily.Mum,Dad,Brad,Nan,Julie,Jenny,andofcourse,Jon.Youareeverything.
ToanyoneI’vemissed,I’msorry.I’vehadaboutfourhourssleepthisweekandmybrainisfried.

Ahuge,hugethankstomyauthorbuddies,IsabellaStarlingandDemiDonovan,whodeserveamention
alloftheirown.

Theseladies,wow.I’vebeenluckyenoughtohavethemhereforaweekofwriting,andtheyhave

absolutelyrockedmyworld.

I’velaughedsomuchmynoseliterallybled,andIhaven’thadanosebleedsinceIwasakid.
Yeah,itwasintense.Andfun.Somuchfun.
We’vetalked,we’vewritten,we’vebarelyslept,andI’mhonouredtohavehadsuchincredible

companywhilesprintingtothefinishlineofthisnovel.

Itwasquiteasprint.
Andthiswasquiteaweek.
Ican’twaittodoitagain.<3

ABOUTJADEWEST

Jadehasincreasinglylittletosayaboutherselfastimegoeson,otherthanthefactsheisanauthor,but
she’splentyhappyaboutit.Spendinghertimeinimaginaryrealitiesandhavingalegitimateexcuseforit
isreallyallshe’severwanted.

Jadeisasdirtyasyou’dexpectfromhernovels,andtalkingsmutmakeshersmile.
ShelivesintheWelshcountrysidewithacoupleofhoundsandaguywho’sabletocopewithher

inherentweirdness.

Shehasacuriocabinet,alivingroomdecoratedwithfarmorezebraprintthanmostpeoplecould

bear,andfightsaconstantbattlewithheraddictiontoCoca-Cola.

FindJade(orstalkher–shelovesit)at:

http://www.facebook.com/jadewestauthor
http://www.twitter.com/jadewestauthor
http://www.jadewestauthor.com

Document Outline

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue

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