I shake my head again. His body is so close I can feel the heat coming off it, the sheer size and power of him overwhelming me as he closes off the space around me, and all I can think is that he’s so much bigger than Kye.Bigger than Kye, probably, everywhere.I flush hotly at the thought.He doesn’t say anything and I keep my gaze lowered, afraid to look him in the eye. I’m excruciatingly conscious of his chest rising and falling, and the familiar and soapy smell of him. For a split second, I wonder how I would feel if I walked in on him in the same situation. If I walked into a room to find some woman on her knees in front of him?Then I wonder, would he pump himself hard and thoughtlessly into her mouth until she felt like she was barely participating, or would it be slow and erotic with him?That I would even wonder about that is so shameful, on top of everything that’s already happened tonight, that my cheeks burn as heat crawls up my neck.As if he can sense my shifting discomf
Xavier i take a highball of scotch up to my room with me, pausing for just a moment in front of Hazel’s door. If she were a child, I would walk into her room and sit on the edge of her bed so we could talk it out. So that no one was going to bed angry.But she’s not a child. She so very clearly is not a child, since I caught her giving a boy a blowjob in my basement, and I have no idea how to talk about this with her.Kids have sex at Hazel’s age. Lord knows I did. She’s not eight years old anymore, and I feel like now I don’t know the rules.I drink my scotch in bed, watching the news and trying to distract myself from the irritating events of the night. I should never have agreed to go out with Cynthia. The truth is I’m lonely. I’ve been lonely since Melanie and I separated. But that’s no excuse for my lapse in judgment.I stare mindlessly at the TV, thinking bitter thoughts about the teenage douchebag sniffing around my daughter and my own loneliness, but not even the endlessly ba
In my fantasy, I grab all that long red hair and make a ponytail of it in my fist, pulling her head back and rubbing the head of my cock against the tiny, tight, wet entrance of her pussy. Before I can even imagine plunging myself into her, I come with a gasp, my hot, sticky seed spurting over my hand and euphoria washing over me in waves. I have to breathe deeply—one, two, three big gulps of air—as my heart rate comes back down to normal and the waves of heat pass over me.When I finally do wipe myself clean and roll over to sleep, it’s under a cloud of shame.There’s something wrong with me. There’s something very fucking wrong with me.*****Hazel*****i stay in bed longer than usual in the morning, wanting to put off seeing Xavier. I’m equal parts angry at him for grounding me, and guilty for disobeying him.Sigh.Eventually, I pull my hair—too much hair, I think, as usual—into a messy bun and pull on some yoga pants and head downstairs.Xavier is in the kitchen hovering over the
I appreciate that he cares for me, I do, but he’s right: I have gotten used to taking care of myself. And I’m old enough to do it.He flicks his eyes up in annoyance and locks them on mine. “You’re seventeen.” His thin veneer of patience evaporates. “You’re in high school. And you snuck that boy in here against my orders and then you…you…”He stammers and trails off, and without really meaning to, I roll my eyes.“Is this about sex?” I accuse. “Because I don’t know what it was like in your day, but yes, kids my age have sex, okay? And we give blowjobs. You might think of me as a child forever, but I happened to like giving Kye a blowjob, okay?” My tone is angry and staccato, and I’m trying to shock him.I didn’t, actually, particularly like giving Kye a blowjob.But the comment has the desired effect. His nostrils flare and his eyes widen.“Hazel!” he exclaims. “Is that how you want to spin this? That I’m some uptight prude? Sex has existed long before you, missy, so, yes, I happen to
I told myself it was misplaced gratitude, it was the fact that circumstances made him look like a hero, but the feelings persisted.It was noticing things about him I’d never paid attention to before—how strong he is, how tall. The defined angles of his face, how broad and firm his jaw is, with the cleft right in the centre of it. And the fierce passion in his dark eyes, so different from his cool and restrained manner, hinting at something so powerful inside.I know that I could never force my heart to beat for Kye the way it beats for a grown man like Xavier.In the past six weeks, I’ve changed. I’ve grown up. I had to fend for myself in frightening circumstances and I managed; I persevered. To me, Kye is a boy. It was fun for a moment to make out with him and win his attention, to think about the social capital he can help me gain at school, but the truth is he isn’t what I want.What I want is so much different. And completely forbidden.“I’m sorry,” I whisper, burrowing my nose i
“And you and Dante…?” I try to sound as casual as I can, while all the muscles across my neck and shoulders seize up. My heart is hammering so hard in my chest I wonder if she can hear it. “You…?”“Yeah,” she answers quietly, and swallows. “Twice.”“And was it okay? Did you like it?”She shrugs. “Yeah.”Somewhere out there, in the big city of Vancouver, is a child named Dante I now have to kill.What the fuck kind of name is Dante?Although…what the fuck kind of name is Kye?Kids these days.Jesus.“Dad?” asks Hazel, tilting her head and lifting an eyebrow. “You okay?”I realize I’m frowning and shake it off, giving her a rueful smile. “It’s hard for any father to realize their daughter is growing up, is all,” I say, and she rolls her eyes. “This Dante…”—the name tastes vile in my mouth—“Did you, or do you, love him?”“Love? Dad, c’mon. If you’re about to give me the birds and the bees talk... ““I’m not. It’s just…it’s a big deal, sex. Even if everywhere around you, you get the messa
Hazeli don’t hear from Kye all weekend, so at school on Monday, when I see him outside with his best friend Eric, I straighten my shoulders and walk up to them confidently.He’s barely concealing a smile as he pretends to look at his phone, while Eric is clearly muttering to him out of the side of his mouth, something like, ‘Here she comes.’“Can I talk to you, Kye?” I ask tersely.He lifts his eyes to me and shrugs nonchalantly. “Sure.”Eric presses his lips together and looks away in a show of hiding his laughter.“In private?”“Nah,” he says, lifting his chin and looking down his nose at me. “We can talk here.”“Okay.” I set my jaw, refusing to be intimidated. I survived five weeks of Melanie’s abandonment, surely I can survive confronting a teenage boy in front of his friend. “Why didn’t you text me back this weekend?”Eric snorts with laughter.“Oh!” Kye’s voice drips with cruel sarcasm. “I didn’t know if you were allowed to receive texts. Doesn’t Daddy check your phone?”“What
I knew Melanie wasn’t like other moms from a young age. I think I always knew. Friends loved my mom because she was pretty and fun, but they couldn’t understand how scared I was all the time, how unstable and uncertain things always seemed.She was fun at sleepovers, fun after school, but Melanie could turn on a dime, raging and manic and unpredictable.She pulled me out of grade school twice because of some fight she’d had with a teacher, wrenching me away from my friends with promises that it would be better somewhere else. Melanie was always after the new, better thing. And usually with little consideration of how it would impact me.When she met Xavier, my life changed, and my world became full colour. Suddenly, someone was always there for me.With Melanie, there’d been countless incidents when she’d forgotten to pick me up from school or hadn’t attended one of my recitals. I was so used to it I always got nervous that moment I stepped out the school door, or the curtain opened,
HazelWe wait in silence for the valet to pull the car up, and when he does, Xavier tips him and walks over to the driver’s side. He doesn’t open the door for me, or give me a smile, or even so much as flash a glare at the valet when he clearly runs his eyes over my body, checking me out.I’m still reeling from the moment in the restaurant.Xavier is jealous? Of Kye?But now it’s as if nothing’s happened, and the functioning part of my brain kicks in to remind me that there’s no way my stepfather was going to say something inappropriate to me, and I’m fucked up for even thinking and hoping so.Isn’t it more likely, I torment myself, that he meant ‘jealous’ about something else, and you misunderstood it and now he’s angry?We drive in uncomfortable silence for a while until Xavier finally speaks. His tone is casual, fatherly, like no weird moment has passed between us.“I hope you had a nice birthday, sweetheart,” he says.“The nicest, thank you.” My fingers reach up and clasp the diam
She rolls her eyes up to the crystal chandelier above us. “Ugh, he’s a jerk,” she groans. The idea that he’s been a jerk to her makes me equally angry and relieved. That fucking kid. But at least he’ll be out of her life now.“Hmm,” I say nonchalantly. It’s not my place to get involved. I take a sip of my drink and look out across the room. The restaurant is filling up and there’s a hub of noise and activity in the centre, but the padded booth seems to muffle the sound somewhat. Our table is at a peaceful remove.I make a few suggestions to Hazel and when the waiter comes back I order for us. Oysters and champagne to start, then the braised beef cheek for me and the pan-roasted chicken for Hazel. I soften my stance on alcohol and let her share my champagne when the oysters arrive.She’s never had oysters before, but approaches them gamely, cringing slightly the first time the cool, slippery flesh slides down her throat but then smiling and widening her eyes with pleasure at the salty
Xavier The sight of Hazel coming down the stairs is like a punch to the gut. For a moment, the breath is knocked out of me.She’s unbelievable. She’s perfect.She’s…Melanie?She looks like a grown-ass woman. Like her mother, actually. In a tight white dress, with her curls loosely pinned up, and high heel shoes that emphasize the shapely, grown-up musculature of her legs, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Strikingly similar to Melanie, but so much……better, I can’t help but think. She’s my Hazel. Silly, brilliant, and loving. She grins at me, her smile bright and wide, and I melt.“How do I look?” she asks, holding her arms out to give me the full view.Like your mother, I almost answer. I’ve seen this dress before, and suddenly I have a vivid memory of Melanie in it—at a party for my partner, Bob, just before Mel and I broke up. It’s the last dress I ever saw her in.“You look incredible,” I say sincerely.Following her out to the car, I can’t take my eyes off of her. S
Taking a deep breath, I blew the candle out and then turned my head to smile at Xavier. He smiled back, and before I even knew what I was doing, I lifted my chin and kissed him, quickly and chastely, on the lips.For one moment, I was flooded with the warm smell of him, with the soft pressure of his mouth on mine, and the next he was moving away, the warmth of his body gone, his back to me as he walked up to the coffee machine and filled it with water.It’s a completely normal thing for a parent and child to do, to kiss on the mouth, but it left me breathless and heated.No matter how hard I try to fight this growing feeling of attraction, it just won’t go away. If anything, boundaries seem to be slipping and blurring between us, making it worse. In the past few days since I’ve been grounded, we’ve spent more and more time together—laughing, touching, hugging… Every night this week Xavier has shut his computer early, and we’ve watched television together while snuggling on the couch.
HazelThis is the face of an eighteen year old, I think as I look in the mirror.It doesn’t feel any different, today versus yesterday, but while I may look and feel the same, I’m not. Something changed overnight. At the stroke of midnight I transformed from a child to a woman. Age of majority. It’s just a number, but it carries a lot of weight.Tonight, for my birthday, Xavier is taking me out to one of the best restaurants in Vancouver. My friend Christine can’t believe I’m grounded for my eighteenth birthday, and I feel like I should be more upset than I am, but truthfully, I’d much rather have a fancy dinner with Xavier than spend a drunken night at the beach with kids. The prospect of dressing up and and being seen on Xavier’s arm doesn’t make me feel like I am missing anything at all.People will think we’re a couple, I think.I wonder what it’s like to be on a real date with a man like Xavier—to have him pick you up in his Jaguar, impeccably dressed in a suit, perfectly trimmed
I lean my cheek against his chest, breathing in the smell of him, and don’t let go. My breasts are pressed against him, it’s a tight, intimate hug, and once I’m in it I can’t pull away. It feels so good to be close to him, to smell him and be hugged by him, I can’t bring myself to break the embrace.I don’t feel like he wants me to, either. He leans back against the counter, pulling me against him, and lifts a hand to cup my head, and kisses the top of my hair.“I love you, Hazel-girl,” he murmurs.“I love you too, Dad,” I whisper. I can feel his chest rising and falling against me as he breathes.“And you’ll always be my little girl.”“Yes, Daddy.”It’s a weird thing to say when all I’m thinking about is how fucking good his body feels against mine, how I’d do anything to be in this embrace in a different context, but my feelings for Xavier are complex. I’m grappling with this growing, inappropriate attraction to him, but I still so love being his little girl.I drag a hand slowly up
I knew Melanie wasn’t like other moms from a young age. I think I always knew. Friends loved my mom because she was pretty and fun, but they couldn’t understand how scared I was all the time, how unstable and uncertain things always seemed.She was fun at sleepovers, fun after school, but Melanie could turn on a dime, raging and manic and unpredictable.She pulled me out of grade school twice because of some fight she’d had with a teacher, wrenching me away from my friends with promises that it would be better somewhere else. Melanie was always after the new, better thing. And usually with little consideration of how it would impact me.When she met Xavier, my life changed, and my world became full colour. Suddenly, someone was always there for me.With Melanie, there’d been countless incidents when she’d forgotten to pick me up from school or hadn’t attended one of my recitals. I was so used to it I always got nervous that moment I stepped out the school door, or the curtain opened,
Hazeli don’t hear from Kye all weekend, so at school on Monday, when I see him outside with his best friend Eric, I straighten my shoulders and walk up to them confidently.He’s barely concealing a smile as he pretends to look at his phone, while Eric is clearly muttering to him out of the side of his mouth, something like, ‘Here she comes.’“Can I talk to you, Kye?” I ask tersely.He lifts his eyes to me and shrugs nonchalantly. “Sure.”Eric presses his lips together and looks away in a show of hiding his laughter.“In private?”“Nah,” he says, lifting his chin and looking down his nose at me. “We can talk here.”“Okay.” I set my jaw, refusing to be intimidated. I survived five weeks of Melanie’s abandonment, surely I can survive confronting a teenage boy in front of his friend. “Why didn’t you text me back this weekend?”Eric snorts with laughter.“Oh!” Kye’s voice drips with cruel sarcasm. “I didn’t know if you were allowed to receive texts. Doesn’t Daddy check your phone?”“What
“And you and Dante…?” I try to sound as casual as I can, while all the muscles across my neck and shoulders seize up. My heart is hammering so hard in my chest I wonder if she can hear it. “You…?”“Yeah,” she answers quietly, and swallows. “Twice.”“And was it okay? Did you like it?”She shrugs. “Yeah.”Somewhere out there, in the big city of Vancouver, is a child named Dante I now have to kill.What the fuck kind of name is Dante?Although…what the fuck kind of name is Kye?Kids these days.Jesus.“Dad?” asks Hazel, tilting her head and lifting an eyebrow. “You okay?”I realize I’m frowning and shake it off, giving her a rueful smile. “It’s hard for any father to realize their daughter is growing up, is all,” I say, and she rolls her eyes. “This Dante…”—the name tastes vile in my mouth—“Did you, or do you, love him?”“Love? Dad, c’mon. If you’re about to give me the birds and the bees talk... ““I’m not. It’s just…it’s a big deal, sex. Even if everywhere around you, you get the messa