Father's Keeper by Parker Ford (classic fiction .TXT) 📗

“Yes, Gil, I’m a virgin,” I laughed.

“Can we pretend?” he asked over hisshoulder. That time we both laughed.

“Whatever floats your boat,” I said.His hand rested on my crown once more, but only for a heartbeat, and then hewas out of the kitchen, pulling a cold beer from a cooler on the back porch. Iwatched him sit in a chair near Carl who was still plucking away on his guitar.Gil looked both forlorn and at peace.

For that moment in time, I hated mymother for leaving him. But I envied her for ever having him at all.

* * * *

“Anywhere around here I can get a jobpicking and grinning, Mr. Russell?” Carl asked. I thought it was sweet that hecalled Gil Mister. Gil lit a cigarette and I briefly wanted one. That firstdark smell of burning paper and tobacco always made me lusty for a smoke, butI’d gone through hell and back to quit, so I wasn’t about to ask for one.

“The Garnet up by the highway mighttake you on. They don’t pay much, I hear. And they’ll make you wash dishes andtend bar and mop the floor too.”

Carl shrugged, picking out the openingchords to a Pink Floyd song that always made me feel homesick even when I wasat home. “I can do all that,” he said.

“So I figured,” Gil said, dropping mea subtle wink in the orange light. The fire popped and cracked and grumbledlike a fourth person in the conversation. Gil pushed out of his lawn chair andbent to kiss my head.

“I’m off to bed, kids. Long daytomorrow and it’s coming fast. Plus I’m getting old.”

“Sh-yeah, right,” I said. “Truth betold, you could run circles around me.”

He grinned. “Truth be told, you’reright, but I am tired and I am trying to leave you two be. I’ll call out toMike Branch at the Garnet tomorrow and ask if he’s shopping for some talent. Ormaybe John at The Tavern‘s looking,” Gil said to Carl and Carl reached out ahand to shake. After a moment of considering that hand, Gil took it and shook.“You be good to her,” he said. There was a hint of malice in his voice thatmade me look up and made Carl blink.

“Yes, sir. I will.”

Gil nodded. “Be sure you do.”

The screen door slammed on its rustyhinges when he went in and I jumped a little.

“What the fuck was that about?” Carlasked, dropping back into his chair and strumming absentmindedly.

I wished upon a star for a smoke, gotnothing. “I have no idea. But I’d listen if I were you.’ I smiled. Something inme feeling warm and loved from that low key warning to the man I was sleepingwith.

Carl snorted. “Yeah. No shit.”

“So come on,” I said, draining my beerand setting the empty in a bushel basket of other dead soldiers for recycling.I had to shake my head that recycling had come to Pleasant Parks.

“What?” He looked up, giving me thatslightly stupid look that made me pity him and go out with him in the firstplace.

“Come on and take care of me. Comeupstairs and fuck me good.” I took his hand to help him up and he slammed intome.

“In your bed? From when you were ateeny bopper? Dreaming of boys touching you in the bad places. Boys puttingtheir lips on your pussy and their fingers deep inside of you?”

My pulse jumped in my throat and Icould only nod. God, he could be so dirty. It was one of the things that mademe stay with him. When other things made me want to toss Carl to the curb, thatdirty streak of his, how he seemed to innately understand me, kept me comingback for more. “Yes, yes. Now come on. Take me upstairs, you beast.”

He did, softly humming something byOzzie Osborne as I led him to the top floor that had always been one big loftroom. Mine. And it still was. My posters were there, some of my furniture.Hell, even some cheap plastic beads hung along the sides of my oversized mirror.

I dropped onto my double bed, theroyal purple canopy on my bed shivered lasciviously. “What a room. Man. I had aroom the size of a small closet and a twin bed. No sheets!” Carl set his guitaron an overstuffed chair and stripped off his concert tee. He dropped it on thethrow rug and shucked his busted up jeans.

“Sorry, baby,” I said. I knew he’d hadno money growing up, which is why he was so comfortable working for beer moneyand eating noodles. That wasn’t distressing to Carl. And at first it hadn’t beento me. But I wanted to settle down. Eat a steak once and again. Have apermanent place to call home, not just hang out somewhere.

“It’s fine. Fine by me, becausegirly’s got sheets,” he whispered with a  lupine smile and then he came at me,running like a wolf in a forest, pouncing, hitting my bed with a muffled thumpand a muted squeal on my part. “Girly’s got lots of good stuff,” Carl said andpushed my legs wide, forcing his narrow hips between my thighs. His mouthsmashed hot to mine, his teeth skittering across mine for just an instant whilehis tongue dove in and then the kiss was urgent and warm and eating up mythoughts.

“Easy, wolf boy,” I laughed, butdidn’t meant it. My legs locking behind his back. His cock, hard and longnudged me between the legs, brushing over my clit under all its insulation offabric.

“What is all this stuff?” Carl saidquietly. He tugged at my skirt, at my panties. I heard something in the hallbut felt the quick and distracting burn of a fingertip to my tender flesh. Iwiggled under him.

“Us humans call them clothes,” Ijoked. I stopped joking when he tugged my tiny skirt off and whipped it overhis head like a war flag before promptly launching it across the room.

“Fuck that,” Carl growled and took mypanties in his teeth, tugging briskly so I rolled like a wave under him to helphim work them down my thighs.

“Not fuck that,” I sighed. “Fuck me.”

Hours and hours and hours piloting mypiece