Her Ex
Jacqueline quietly closed the door to the guest room. Penelope’s room now, she corrected herself with a sigh. She walked down the stairs, back to the living room, picking up a forgotten sweater, Penelope’s discarded suitcase, a few paper plates that hadn’t been thrown away. The house was finally quiet after another draining day of mourners coming and going. Entering the kitchen, Jacqueline surveyed the disaster awaiting her there.
She shook off the exhaustion that was creeping in and started collecting the half empty glasses that littered the table. Hooking a glass in each finger, Jacqueline picked up four glasses in each hand and crossed the kitchen to the sink. Halfway there a glass slipped from her fingers, falling to the floor and splintering into tiny pieces on the tile. With a frustrated groan, Jacqueline set the rest on the counter and bent down and began to pick up the shards. It felt like this day was never going to end.
She reached for a piece that had skidded under the table only to pull back her hand in pain. She looked at the bright red blood erupting from a gash in her hand and felt her stomach start to roil. She hated blood. Jacqueline grabbed for the dish towel, only to see it covered in a sticky pink substance, remembering that Aunt Sylvia used it to clean up a jelly salad spill.
She pulled open the drawer where the clean ones were kept. It was empty. Jaqueline looked back to the pool of blood collecting in her hand, then back to the dirty towel. She recognized the feeling of tears gathering behind her eyes. The ones she’d repressed for days.
Jacqueline sank down to the floor, tears wetting her cheeks. Maybe it was the exhaustion of the past few days, or maybe it was burying her sister this afternoon, or maybe it was finding out that her niece was now her ward. Whatever it was, she couldn’t stop the tears from spilling out and began to shake with uncontrollable sobs.
She and her sister hadn’t been close for years but Jacqueline mourned the loss of who her sister used to be. The sister she wanted to remember her as. She cried for her niece who lost her mother, and she cried for herself, left with one more of her sister’s messes to clean up.
Through the fog, the exhaustion, and the tears, Jacqueline heard the door. Someone else knocking. Someone else bringing a casserole, or flowers, or a half-hearted sympathetic smile. She didn’t want to talk to anyone else today. She didn’t want to hear one more person tell her how wonderful her sister was, all the while avoiding her eyes because they didn’t really believe what they were saying. Her sister was a junkie, and hadn’t been a wonderful person in years. There was no use hiding that fact. Lord knows her sister never did.
The knocking persisted, though, becoming louder, more obnoxious. As much as she wanted to just sit there and ignore whoever it was, she couldn’t tune out the sound. Jacqueline wiped her eyes on her sleeve and got up. She had forgotten about the cut on her hand, but was quickly reminded when she tried to use it to get up. Jacqueline winced and used her other hand to pull herself off the floor.
She took a minute to inspect the cut. It was deeper than she thought, blood still trickling out of it, and she had to shake the feeling of nausea that tore through her at the sight of it. Once she dealt with her visitor she would have to scrounge around for her first aid kit and see if she had a bandage big enough to cover it. But for now she grabbed the dirty dish towel, found the cleanest side, and pressed it into the cut.
Taking a few deep breaths on the way to the door, trying to pull herself together, Jacqueline unlocked the deadbolt. She had barely turned the knob when her guest pushed his way into the house. His jet black hair was swept to the side, his shirt only half buttoned. His face showed more than a decent amount of scruff. His eyes darted past Jacqueline and around the room.
When he didn’t see what he was looking for he began moving through the house. A normal person would have assumed it was an intruder and tried to call the police. To Jacqueline, who had spent too much time cleaning up after her sister, figured he was one of her junkie friends either coming to party or to crash here. A few had even come to mourn and tell her how totally bummed they were.
Even though he may not be a complete stranger, he still wasn’t welcome. Now that her sister wasn’t using Jacqueline’s house as a flophouse whenever she decided to blow into town, Jacqueline was no longer under any obligation to let all these losers into her house.
She followed him as he searched around the main floor, still not finding what he hoped for. Moving to the back of the house to the kitchen he stopped, pieces of glass crunching under his heavy black boots.
“If you’re looking for the free food, it’s gone. There’s nothing left for you here.”
He finally turned to her, his steel blue eyes piercing her. She had enough experience to know that he wasn’t high. That still didn’t make him any more welcome.
“I need for you to leave.” She said, exhausted.
“No.” His voice was rough, gravelly.
“No?” She tried to inject a little enthusiasm into her voice, but it just came out flat, matching her mood.
“Not until I know for sure. I heard some of the guys talking, but I didn’t believe them. I had to come here and see for myself.” He rambled.
“What?”
“Is she really dead?” He asked, not quietly like most people speak of the dead. His voice boomed.
“Yes. Her funeral was today.”
The mixture of emotions flashing across his face - pain, relief, guilt - was hard for Jacqueline to see, because she too struggled with those same feelings. What kind of person would be relieved to hear her sister died? It was a small bit of relief to see the same feelings reflected in someone else.
He paced the living room with big, heavy steps that shook the floor. Jaqueline felt bad for this man, really she did. He obviously knew her sister beyond just seeing the addiction, which was something most couldn’t see past, but Jacqueline was beyond comforting anyone else tonight. She sat on the couch and watched him, waiting for him to say something else or to leave. Finally he stopped pacing and looked down at Jacqueline.
“Did she kill herself?” He asked, those piercing eyes boring down on her. She shook her head. “Overdose then.” He said. It wasn’t a question.
“It was very tragic.” That was her standard comment to all those who came over to offer their sympathy, but this time it felt even more false than all the others. If only she could muster up some lilt to her voice then maybe it would have come out more sincere.
“Bullshit. What was tragic was how she got herself there in the first place. She was a fucking idiot.”
Jacqueline’s eyebrows shot up. She supposed she should be offended or something, but it was hard to deny the truth. This man was curious to her and definitely no one she had seen around her sister before.
“How did you know her?”
He laughed, mirthless. “That’s a loaded question, isn’t it?”
“It is?”
“Who really knew her? How did you know her?” He asked, though it sounded more like an accusation.
“I was her sister.”
“Oh shit.” He said, fixing his eyes on mine. He raked a hand through his long hair, then scrubbed his face with his hand. If she didn’t know any better she really would think he was high by the way he was acting, the way he was dressed. “Sorry. I’m an asshole. I didn’t even know she had a sister. I always imagined that kind of girl doesn’t have any family.”
He sat down on the couch beside her, long legs stretching out in front of him, and put his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He sat that way for a long minute before straightening and looking at her again. Jacqueline could see some sadness reflected in his eyes this time.
“I knew her a long time ago. She used to follow the band around.”
Jacqueline nodded knowingly. No other explanation was needed, she remembered well her sister’s groupie phase.
“So why come looking for her now?”
“It’s complicated. I guess I always assumed I would see her around, or things would work out between us. I was probably fooling myself, though. She could be a bitch when she was mad.” He winced and shrugged a shoulder “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I knew my sister better than anyone. I’ve had her temper turned on me more than a few times.” Jacqueline pointed across the room to the patched up hole in the wall from the last time she was here. The wall was fixed but Jacqueline’s lamp never recovered.
“Why did you let her keep coming here?”
“It wasn’t her that was doing it, it was the drugs.”
“That’s bullshit.” He barked. “You might know your sister, but I know addiction. If she wanted to get help she could. She had a hell of a lot to live for and someone willing to help her. She has no one to blame but herself.”
“Maybe.” She said, her voice a stark contrast to his booming. She had spent a great deal of her life talking people down, bringing them around until they were calm, rational. Arguing with someone who was looking for a fight wasn’t going to get her anywhere.
Jacqueline studied him, taking in his dark hair that was long enough to push behind his ears, his clothing, which consisted mostly of black on black, his brooding eyes. His nose looked like he had been in more than one fight in his life. He wore a scowl like it was a fashion statement. She had assumed he was one of her sisters strung out friends, but then he said he knew her from her groupie days. Jacqueline tried to place him, but he didn’t look familiar to her at all. She took the opportunity to both settle her curiosity and change the subject.
“You said you know her from the band. Do you play or are you one of those men that help set up?”
He chuckled, a smile tugging at his lips. “A roadie? No, not a roadie. I play in the band. I take it you’re not a metal fan?”
Jacqueline wrinkled her nose. “No. Not really my style. Are you any good?”
“We’ve won a few awards.” He said, this time really smiling. His smile took the edge off of him, disarmed him. He pushed the hair that had fallen into his face back. “I’m Dante.”
“Jacqueline.” She said, offering him her hand, only to pull it back when she saw the towel still wrapped around it.
Dante shackled her wrist and pulled it to him. His firm grasp on her was a welcome sensation.
“You’re bleeding.” He said, looking down at the towel. Blood soaked through it threatening to take over the pink splotches on it.
“It’s nothing. I cut myself on a piece of glass.” She said, trying not to look at the amount of blood covering the towel.
“It’s bleeding a lot.” He said, reaching for my hand again. I pulled it close to my body. “Let me see it. I’ve had a lot of experience with patching up wounds.”
“I didn’t realize playing in a band was such a risky career.”
“It’s not, I just happen to have a lot of idiot friends. Now come on, let me see.”
Jacqueline hesitated, assessing him before finally extending her arm to him. He cradled her hand in his palm and gently unwrapped the towel. His hands were warm and his thick fingers moved with a delicate precision she would never have imagined. The hair he had pushed back earlier slipped free and brushed across his face.
Jacqueline resisted the urge to tuck it back, to run her fingers through it all. She wondered what it would be like to touch his stubbled face under her fingers. Her hand shook in his, but it had little to do with the wound. When he exposed the skin Jacqueline had to look away from him. Dante twisted her hand one way, then the other.
“How did you do this?”
“I broke a glass.”
“It’s pretty deep. You might even need a couple stitches.”
Jacqueline glanced up the stairs to where Penelope lay sleeping. “I would rather not. Can’t you just help me bandage it for now?”
“I’ll try, but if I can’t stop the bleeding then there won’t be much other choice. Do you have any gauze or anything?”
She nodded and led the way to the bathroom. Opening the small closet, she started to rummage around for the first aid kit that was buried in there somewhere. From behind her, Dante brushed his hands over her waist. Jacqueline let out a squeal as he picked her up and sat her on the counter. His eyes skimmed over her, spreading a heat through her body that she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“You’re bleeding.” He pointed to the droplets on the floor in front of the closet. “Keep it elevated above your heart.” For emphasis, his eyes drew down to her heart before he turned back around to continue the search for the gauze. Jacqueline wasn’t used to that kind of man looking at her like she could be his dinner. In fact she couldn’t think of any man who had ever looked at her like that.
After a moment Dante came back to her holding the small first aid kit. He tossed it on the counter and rummaged through it, pulling out the few odds and ends he found there. Jacqueline made a mental note to restock the kit now that Penelope was living with her.
When Dante was satisfied with what he found he shrugged off his leather jacket and tossed it over the edge of the tub. He took her hand in his again and started cleaning the wound. He hands worked smooth and quick and Jacqueline would have liked to have watched him but the sight of her jagged flesh was doing little to calm her stomach. Instead she travelled her eyes further up to his arms covered in various colors of ink. It looked like one massive collection of lines and swirls, but looking closer she started making out the different tattoos.
A lion, a barbed rose, a date written out in cursive. She followed the patterns and shapes as they trailed up his arm, disappearing under the sleeve of his shirt. Jacqueline’s eyes followed them up until she caught his eyes. They were watching hers. Jacqueline turned her head away from him, focusing straight ahead at his chest. Her body was thrumming from the closeness of his body, the fire in his eyes.
“You don’t look much like her.” He said as he turned his eyes back to her hand.
She tried not to let her disappointment crush her too much. It wasn’t the first time she had heard that from a man. Her sister had the most beautiful thick blond hair and crystal blue eyes. Both had dulled over the years, but she was still the better looking one of the two of them. Jaqueline was shorter than her sister by 6 inches and her hair was always an unruly mess of dark curls. Their eyes were the only feature they shared.
“We were both adopted. Different birth parents, same adoptive parents.”
“You let her walk all over you like that and you weren’t even related?” He said in his brisk tone.
“We were family. Blood has nothing to do with it. She was always my sister no matter what. When we were in our teens our parents died in an accident and we were alone again. She didn’t have anybody to take care of her and neither did I. We took care of each other. I guess I just never stopped taking care of her.”
“Who takes care of you? I can’t imagine Whitney ever did.” Her eyes darted back to his. He looked at her expression and must have recognized the shame he saw there. “What did I say?”
“Nothing. It was nothing.”
“It was something.”
“You said her name. You said Whitney. I haven’t been able to say her name since she died. I haven’t really said her name in years, always some kind of nickname. Even in these past few days I’ve only heard a few people call her by her name. When I say her real name it brings me back to when she was my friend, my sister, and that’s not who she was anymore. Even when I saw her laying in her coffin, in a pretty blue dress I had picked for her to be buried in, with her hair combed and only a scarce trace of makeup, she still didn’t look like my sister.
The years of bad choices seemed to be etched into her skin and I could hardly look at her.” She cast her eyes down again, ashamed that she’d admitted that to a stranger. Ashamed that she felt that way in the first place.
Dante hooked a knuckle under her chin and drew her eyes back up to his. “You didn’t make her choose those things.” He held her gaze until she shifted under it, heat rising in her body once again. He let her hand go, his other hand remaining on my leg. “All done.”
She pulled her hand back. “It still hurts.”
“Your hand?”
“No.” She said. Their eyes met and she knew Dante knew what she meant.
She never allowed herself to grieve for Whitney, not with Penelope to care for, but she could feel the tears gathering behind her eyes now. She didn’t want to fall apart in front of Dante. She wouldn’t allow herself to cry here.
Squirming under his hand, she tried to push him away but he held fast to her. She needed him to leave but his eyes challenged her as if to say he knew what she was trying to do. She was intrigued by him and by the way he seemed to understand what she was feeling, but she was too close to the edge to explore what that meant. She needed to be alone.
She pushed hard against his chest with both hands trying to force him to back up, only to pull her hand away as a jolt of pain shot through her. Jacqueline felt herself sway backwards, darkness creeping into the edges of her vision.
Dante grabbed onto her shoulders and kept her upright. She fought to keep her eyes on his until the dizziness subsided.
“Don’t like blood, huh?”
“It’s not my favorite.” She said, no longer meeting his eyes. Her voice was barely audible. “You should go.”
He studied her through his thick lashes, eventually nodding. “I should.”
He backed away from the counter and helped her down before heading to the door. Jacqueline struggled to keep up to his long stride and when they had almost reached the door he stopped and turned around to her so abruptly that she nearly bumped into his chest.
She gasped as he caught her by the elbows and pushed her against the wall. He lowered his face down to hers and when he spoke his voice was low, kind. “You gotta let go, Jac. If you don’t do it you’ll crash when you least expect it. Stop trying to be strong for everyone. She’s gone. Let go.”
“I don’t know how.” She whispered, eyes searching his for the answer.
His rough features softened, hands running up the back of her arms. She repressed a shiver as he moved in closer. Grabbing onto the back of her arms, Dante pulled her in to a rough kiss. Heat and desire mixed as his tongue nudged her lips apart. She hesitated, only for a second, before she kissed him frantically, putting all the repressed stress and fear from the past days, years, into it.
His hand slipped to the back of her head, long fingers tangling in her hair, cushioning her head from the wall as he pushed her into it. Jacqueline’s hands tore at his belt, his zipper. Fingers desperate for his touch, for any sensation that made her forget. He seemed to recognize her urgency, working his free hand up under the bottom of her shirt. The touch of his hand on her skin sent surges of need through her body.
It had been a long time since she let anyone get this close to her. It scared her and it excited her. Wet heat pooled between her legs as his fingers crept up to cup her breast. Experienced fingers rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb. She arched into his touch, savoring his rough touch.
She was so close to him that she could feel his growing erection pressing into her. She liked knowing that he was as turned on as she was. She pressed herself into him, craving the feel of him against her, the distraction he could prove to be. Dante growled against her lips and moved his hand down until it was working its way up her black skirt. He was direct, aggressive, everything she needed right now.
Jacqueline tried to repress a moan when he slipped a finger past her folds and into her center.
“Don’t hold back, baby. Let it go.” He said. His eyes on her made her nervous, but when his thumb stroked her clit, Jacqueline couldn’t hold back anymore and let out a cry of pleasure. Dante smiled down at her and captured her lips once again.
She resumed her efforts to undo his pants, trying to focus while his fingers delved further into her. He was bringing her the brink of pleasure and Jacqueline was worried that she would fall off the other side too quickly. She never wanted this feeling to end.
Finally freeing him from his jeans, she pulled out his cock and stroked it between their bodies. At her touch, Dante untangled himself from her mass of hair and his hand receded from her aching center. She stopped, afraid that she did something wrong, only to have Dante reach down and pull her skirt down her legs. Moving back to her, he deftly picked her up, using the wall to support her back and his arms under her. She could feel his cock rubbing against her clit and she couldn’t help pushing into it, hoping the warm flesh would staunch the ache but it only proved to intensify it.
Dante’s eyes were dark with desire now and she felt empowered to know that she had put that look there. He gripped his cock and with deliberate strokes, Dante flicked the head against her clit. She wriggled against the sensation. She hadn’t been with many men, and none of them had been this direct. This experienced. Trepidation crept in and her heart raced as she remembered why she didn’t do this very often. Clearly he had more experience with this than her. She didn’t want to disappoint him. Her eyes desperately searched his.
“It’s been a long time.” She said, a nervous tone creeping into her voice.
“Yeah? How long?” His rough voice rumbled as he pushed into her, his cock stretching her, her body accepting him.
She inhaled a sharp breath, overwhelmed by the flood of sensation pulsating from her center. “Too long.” She said on a long exhale.
Dante gripped her hips tighter and brought her down on him, burying himself in her tight sheath. She watched the muscles in his arms tighten and relax as he pumped her into his body. Pinned against the wall with Dante holding her in place she could do little. So she melted into his movements and handed herself over to him.
She closed her eyes and let her head tip back against the wall, experiencing each sensation with absolute clarity. A delicious tension spiraled out from her core and she clenched tight, intensifying the sensation. Dante grunted and she looked at him through hooded eyes. His eyes were watching her body, her pleasure, with an appreciation she couldn’t comprehend. The carnal desire in his eyes on her dissolved any feeling of self-consciousness that she felt earlier. Just the opposite, it spurred her on. She brought her hands up to run through his hair like she had imagined earlier.
Dante pounded her against him, a bead of sweat breaking against his forehead. Jacqueline could feel her body tightening in bliss, frozen in a state of ecstasy, with each pummel of his cock. Her hands clenched in his hair at the first tremors of her orgasm. Lost in her release, Dante’s groan of his own pleasure radiated through her.
When their shudders subsided Dante rested his head on her chest, breathing rough. Her fingers relaxed, releasing his hair from her grasp, which she only vaguely remembered doing.
“Sorry if that hurt.” She said, embarrassed at how out of character she acted.
He lifted his head to look at her, incredulous. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried, baby.”
Her stomach fluttered, excited and nervous to be on such unfamiliar territory. Pulling away from the wall, Dante carried her into the living room and sat on the couch, Jacqueline on his lap.
“I’m glad I got to see you relax, even if it was for just a couple minutes.” He said, urging her against his shoulder. She laid against him, letting him run his hands over her back. She listened to his heart beating and thought about his words. Maybe he was right, she was always on pins waiting for Whitney to show up or waiting to run and bail her out of whatever trouble she had got herself into. Maybe she could relax now for the first time in a long time.
She had never had a one night stand before and the rules for how to proceed afterwards were foreign to her. She knew he had to leave before Penny woke up in the morning, though.
“You should probably go.” She mumbled against his chest, sleepy.
“Yeah. I should.” He said, though he made no motion to leave and the soft pull of his fingers stroking her hair felt too good for her to worry about propriety.
“I don’t know what happens next.” She said with a yawn and even she wasn’t sure if she was talking about just for now or for her future.
“Just lay down and be happy for a minute. You worry too much.” He shifted his hips until they were laying on their sides, still facing one another, cuddled on the narrow couch.
Jacqueline lay her head back on his stretched out arm. The tips of her fingers lightly traced the lines of his tattoos until her eyes felt heavy and the sleep she had been chasing for days finally caught up to her. Through the haze of sleep she vaguely felt Dante getting up. He pulled a blanket over her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She snuggled down into the blanket before she drifted back into sleep, the heavy sound of his boots across the hardwood was the last things she heard.
******
The next few days went by in a blur. There were less visitors as each day passed, and that left more time for just her and Penny. When Jacqueline looked at her niece she saw so much of Whitney in her and it scared her. If she hadn’t been able to stop her sister from making the choices she had what were the chances she could do that for Penny? It was like she had been given a do-over, but she was too scared of screwing it up again.
She took small hope in the little things Penny did that were nothing like her mother. When Whit was little she could never sit still. She would always drag Jacqueline around behind her in another one of her imaginative schemes. She was such a live wire. But for as active as a 7 year old can be, Penny could sit and color for an hour at a time, or read for ages.
Jacqueline looked at her now, sitting on the couch drawing in her notebook. She looked so sweet, so sad. Jacqueline grabbed a magazine and settled down beside her little niece, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. They sat quietly together until the phone got her up again. She went into the kitchen to answer it.
“Ms. Gibson?”
“Yes”
“I’m calling from Mr. Dougson’s office.”
“Yes?” Jacqueline said, curious why her attorney’s secretary was calling.
“Mr. Dougson wanted me to arrange a time for you to come in to discuss some details pertaining to your custody of Miss Jacobs.”
Jacqueline stilled at the mention of Penelope. “What details?”
“Someone has stepped forward to challenge your custody.”
“Who?” Her mind raced to think of the possibilities, but she came up empty.
“He is claiming to be Miss Jacobs’ father.”
Jacqueline couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. There had never been a father in Penny’s life. When Whitney got pregnant she said she didn’t know who the father was and that she didn’t care to find out. No one ever came around looking for a baby, which wasn’t surprising because Jacqueline had grown accustomed to Whitney never coming around with the same man twice.
She looked into the next room at Penny. She had been through so much, not just this past week but her whole life. It hurt to know that even now she wasn’t being given the chance at stability. Jacqueline wanted to hang up the phone, move away, and pretend she never heard any of this. But she didn’t. She made an appointment with Mr. Dougson for the end of the week.
******
Jacqueline sat in the waiting room of the lawyer’s office. She straightened the strap of her purse on her lap for the tenth time since arriving. Her eyes were drawn up to the clock on the wall, watching the second hand tick by slowly. When she arrived Connie, Mr. Dougson’s secretary told her that he was in meeting with Penny’s father and his attorney and they wouldn’t need her just yet. So she sat. Waiting.
When finally the door opened Jacqueline jumped to her feet and met the lawyer just outside his door. He smiled kindly to her before ushering her into his office. Jacqueline took a moment to survey the other people in the room, to lay her eyes on the person claiming to be Penny’s father. She looked to the other end of the conference table to the man sitting beside a grey haired lawyer. Jacqueline couldn’t quite believe that she was seeing things properly. Beside the lawyer was Dante.
She looked up at Mr. Dougson, who merely urged her to sit. Standing across from Dante she could see he looked just as perplexed as she was. She turned to Mr. Dougson.
“Please tell me this is just a hoax?” She lamented.
“I’m sorry Jackie, but Mr. McKenna has a pretty legitimate claim to Penelope.” His professional voice gave nothing away.
“How legitimate?”
“He has a paternity test dated around the time she was born.”
“But she’s never met him before. If he knew this whole time why does he want her now?”
From across the table Dante stood up.
“What is she doing here?” His voice boomed at her.
“I’m sorry Mr. McKenna. It seems we jumped right past introductions. This is Ms. Gibson. She is to whom Ms. Jacobs left custody of Penelope Jacobs. And Jackie this is Mr. McKenna and Mr. Jeffers who represents him.”
“You’re Penelope’s guardian?”
“I am. I’m the only family Penny knows.”
“The two of you have met?” Mr. Dougson asked.
“We have, but I didn’t know her last name at the time.” His eyes raked over her body and she felt her cheeks warm. This situation was bad enough, she didn’t need to throw feeling ashamed of her first ever one night stand in the mix.
“Well why don’t we all sit and talk about the case that Mr. McKenna is bringing forward.” Mr. Dougson said, pulling her chair out. She held Dante’s stare until he relented and sat down, then she sat too.
While the lawyers traded their jargon, Jacqueline watched Dante. He was dressed just as poorly as he was the night she met him, the scruff on his face was gone, though, revealing his striking cheekbones. Jacqueline gave herself a mental shake, reminding herself that he was the enemy. She tuned back into what Mr. Dougson was saying at the mention of her name.
“Well Ms. Gibson was legally named as the guardian, and there is the question of his absence in the girl’s life up until this point.”
“Mr. McKenna is the biological father of the girl and he has the means and desire to support her.”
“That’s true, but if we can’t come to some kind of amicable agreement things will have to be settled with the help of a mediator.”
It all started to sound too overwhelming. Jacqueline had been there for Penny every chance she was given. She took her to buy new shoes or a jacket every time Whitney brought her around. She taught her how to tie her shoes. She loved her. And in an instant Penny was going to be taken away from her and put with some travelling rock star. How in the world could she save her from following the same path as her mother now?
“I just want what’s best for Penny.” She said, interrupting the lawyers back and forth.
“So do I.” The challenging stare Dante gave her intimidated her, but she wouldn’t let him know it. This had to do with more than her weaknesses. This was about Penny. Jacqueline would do anything for her family.
“Perhaps both sides should take some time to review all the factors and see if a compromise could be reached. I think I speak for both sides when I say no one wants to go to court for this. I can’t imagine it would be in the child’s best interest.”
Jacqueline nodded numbly. She didn’t think of having to go to court. The men moved around her, shaking hands and scheduling times to meet, but Jacqueline was oblivious to it all. All she could think of was Penny. Having this issued dragged out in court would be one more trauma that Penny just did not need. She had to work this out with Dante.
Looking around frantically, she saw Mr. Dougson standing at Connie’s desk and the other two men making their way to the elevator. Jacqueline rushed out of the office after Dante, catching up with him at the elevator.
“We need to talk, Dante.”
“Mr. McKenna is under no obligation to talk to you Ms. Gibson.”
“Take a break Gerry.” He said patting his lawyer on the back. Stepping forward he took her by the elbow a few paces from the elevator. “What’s up, Jac?”
“I can’t let this go through the courts. We need to figure this out.” He looked at her, thinking. Brooding eyes not giving anything away. “Please. Penny has been through enough.”
He finally nodded. “Sure. But not right now. I have a few things to finish up with Gerry. What if I swing by your place this afternoon?”
She nodded, trying not to let the smell of his cologne affect her. The elevator dinged behind them and Dante turned from her and headed to the elevator. She watched his retreating back and hoped that she could make him see that moving Penny around again was just not a good idea.
******
The hours seemed to pass slowly while Jacqueline waited for him. She had been able to enroll Penny in school even though it was so late in the year and she was thankful that it was a school day so she wouldn’t be here to witness what was about to unfold between her and Dante.
Pacing the house one more time Jacqueline couldn’t help but feel nervous and she wished that it was just about Penny’s custody. She knew that part of it was thanks to her thoughtless decision to sleep with Dante. She never had sex with someone she just met, and the one time she does it comes back to bite her.
Even so she couldn’t think of it was a regret per se. That night with Dante had been the most relief she’d experienced in longer than she could remember. He had a way of taking control of things with ease, and Jacqueline was so tired of being the responsible one. She had slept peacefully that night, not haunted by thoughts that something bad could happen at any moment. And every night since she had fallen asleep thinking of those stolen moments and it had been the best week of sleep she had gotten in ages.
Jacqueline sighed and paced back to the living room. She would have to push those thoughts out of her head today, though. He was the enemy now.
The loud knock on her door made her jump, and she rushed across the room to pull open the door. Dante filled the doorway and she brushed off the rush of desire that passed through her as she took in his tall body, remembering his possessive hands on her. She stepped back and let him come in. He entered and, without waiting for an invitation, walked to the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. She followed him and came to stand across the island from him.
His eyes skimmed over her body and she felt a flush creep up her cheeks. She couldn’t imagine he remembered the other night like she did, he probably slept with a different women each day of the week, but the way his eyes bore into her like he could see through her cotton dress made her think he was remembering it too. His eyes snapped up to hers, his emotions masked.
“You wanted to talk?”
“Yes. I want to understand what your intention with Penny is?”
“My intention? I’m her father. I intend to exercise that right.” He said, his voice hard, clipped.
“Yes, but I want you to look at this from her perspective. I’m the only family she knows and I really think she needs that connection right now.” Her eyes pleaded with him, hoping for an ounce of understanding.
“Don’t worry, I’ll still let her see you.” He said, brushing off her concerns. “Maybe she can even crash here while I’m touring.”
“No, she needs somewhere she can crash all the time. You can’t drag her around with you wherever you go and not expect that to affect her. She’s a kid.” Her voice raised, concern giving way to anger.
“Yeah. My kid.” He matched her tone, his eyes sparked.
“Whom you’ve never met. Why do you want her now when you didn’t want to have anything to do with her before?”
“Because Whitney wouldn’t let me see her.”
“And why would she do that. I love my sister, but I knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t likely to turn down the help of a hot rich guy.” She dug her fingernails into her palm, her heart rate speeding. She hated confrontation, but this was one fight she couldn’t back down from.
“Then you should also know her well enough to know that she was a stubborn thing too. We were already history when she found out she was pregnant. Things were messy as shit between us at the time and she said she would never allow her kid to see me. All she wanted me for was money.”
“If you were paying her child support why was there never any paperwork pertaining to it?”
“Because Whit was smarter than that. She knew that if she filed for child support through the right channels, that money would be monitored. She would have to spend it on its intended purpose and not on herself. She had me deposit money into her bank account every month.”
“Which she turned around and snorted. Wow, your case for getting custody just gets better and better.”
“I was an idiot, okay? The way she said it, if I didn’t go along with her plan she would start telling people it wasn’t consensual, or some other story. And Whit was crazy enough to do it, too, so I figured I would just pay her the money and she would be happy.”
“And you never thought about Penelope again?” She bit out.
“Of course I did. I might be an asshole, but it killed me thinking that my kid was going to grow up never knowing who I was. Or worse yet, having Whitney as her mother.” Dante cut his eyes away from her, rubbing the back of his neck. When he spoke again his voice was weary, low. “I tried to get in touch with Whit a few times over the years but she always turned me down. Told me if I wasn’t calling about money then don’t call.” He turned back to her and Jacqueline saw the hurt in his eyes. “I know why Whit thought I would make a terrible parent, but why do you?”
Looking into his stormy blue eyes she softened, the fight draining from her. “It’s not that I think you would be a bad dad, I just think that Penny needs stability. She needs the chance at a normal life.” Jacqueline inhaled a shaky breath. “She needs to not become her mother.”
Jacqueline fought back the tears that threatened to spill, the result of her anger, her guilt. She turned her back to him, pacing into the kitchen.
She didn’t hear him follow her until his voice rumbled from behind her. “That’s all I want for her too.”
She turned to face him and he caught her in his arms. She looked up to him, gathering her courage to trudge on. “I tried to help Whitney and I failed. I can’t fail Penny. I don’t think I could bear to see her take the same path as Whitney.”
This time the tears fell onto her cheeks and she cast her eyes down. Dante took her head in his hands and turned it up again. He pressed a kiss to each stream on her cheek, far gentler than she could imagine. The urge to let herself go with him was great, but she held on to the last remaining shreds of dignity she had.
“Whitney kept her from me for 7 years. I can’t lose her again.”
“I don’t want to keep her from you, I just want to keep her safe.”
“Ditto.” Dante’s lips brushed against hers, a flutter of a kiss that made her breath hitch and chased away the sadness, replacing it with an ache of desire.
“If we both want the same thing for her how do we choose?” The touch of his fingers along her ribcage sent a shiver through her, which culminated low in her belly.
“We don’t.”
“What do you mean?” Kisses peppered her jaw until he reached her earlobe making it difficult for Jacqueline to stay focused on their conversation.
“We share.” Taking her earlobe between his lips, he sucked, then released it.
“What?”
“You said it yourself, we’re both her family, we both want the same things for her. Why fight about it?”
His hands worked their way up her ribs until they were on her breasts, a gentle caress. She arched into his touch, her body remembering vividly his hands on her bare flesh. The wetness between her legs was evidence enough. Her mind tried to discern what he was talking about, but his hands on her body made it hard for her to think straight.
Just as Jacqueline was moving into his touch he grabbed onto her and turned her around, facing the island. His large body pushed against her and she reached out and gripped her hand onto the cool granite. Dante bent his body over hers, his hands on her breasts again, tugging and tearing at the front of her dress, exposing her sensitive skin to his hands. The sudden switch in him surprised her, but it turned her on even more. She liked that he wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted, and she liked that he wanted her.
His hips pressed into her and she could feel his erection on her. Jacqueline gathered her courage and pushed back into him, loving the way he felt against her. She was rewarded with his greedy hands tugging her nipple with a startling accuracy. She reveled in the burn, in the pleasure that washed over her. A low moan escaped her lips.
In a few quick movements, Jacqueline’s dress was torn roughly from her and it fluttered to the floor. She heard the sound of denim being pulled down, and when Dante stepped back behind her she could feel the heat from his body and the silky skin of his cock against her. It seemed as though that was the only part of him that was smooth and Jacqueline wanted to touch it like she had the last time. She wanted to feel the rigid member in her hands and know that she could bring a man like this to the brink of pleasure, then take him over the edge.
She turned around to face him, Dante quirking an eyebrow in surprise. Being faced with him she felt more nervous than she had a moment ago, but as her gaze moved down to his thick erection jutting out, her nerves were easily forgotten. Her small hand reached out and fisted him, gently at first, learning him. She watched his face as her hand moved over him, watched how she could affect him. Her movements became bolder, more aggressive, until his eyes slipped closed and his hips thrust into her motions.
Bolstered, Jacqueline bent her body down and tentatively licked the tip of his cock. His eyes flew open in surprise, his hands moving to her head. She moved her hands to the base of him, then slowly took him into her mouth. A low groan sounded from above her, but before she could continue Dante pulled her up.
Her eyes widened in alarm and she looked at him.
“Babe if you keep doing that I’m going to come, and I don’t want to do that until I’m buried in you.”
Her body ignited with his words, eager as he was to feel him moving inside her again. She turned back around to the face the counter, eager for him, only to hear a soft chuckle from behind her. She looked over her shoulder to him to see him smiling.
“Come on.” He said, holding out his hand. She took it and he led the way down the hallway to her bedroom. Dante guided her onto the bed and he followed her.
Keeping his body close to her, Dante rubbed the head of his cock along her seam, grunting at the wetness he found there. The tip of him entered her a couple inches, then pulled out. He repeated it that pattern until she was writhing with need under him. She let out a growl of frustration and Dante smiled, relenting. This time he pushed into her and buried himself to the hilt. She grabbed onto his shoulders at the sensation, at the tremors that ripped through her. He pumped into her with no prelude, a hard rhythm that left her breathless.
Her lips sought out his and they met with a passion that was consuming. His merciless pace gained in intensity and Jacqueline brought up her legs around him, opening herself up to him. His eyes watched her face and this time she wasn’t nervous. This time she wanted to let go in front of him, for him to see what he did to her. The tension in her sex tightened as she neared release, the friction of him inside her was driving her to the edge.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders, holding onto him as the savage rush consumed her. That ever present tension in her body came undone. Above her Dante’s primal sounds told her that he too was nearing climax. She watched through the haze of her own release as his features became rigid and his movements became frantic. A groan of pleasure echoed throughout the room.
Dante stilled above, looking down at her face. He smiled broadly, something she had never seen him do before. He rolled off of her and pulled her close to him.
“I love watching you let go.” He said, breathless. His smile was still in place.
“I don’t know what it is but you bring out a side of me I didn’t even know I had. I’ve never had the desire to give a man head before today.” She said with a smile, inspecting the small nail marks on his shoulder.
“See? I knew we would make a good team for Penny.”
She propped herself up on his chest to look at him wholly. “You can’t be serious about trying to parent together.”
“Sure I am. Why not?”
“Because we hardly know each other.”
“I think I’m getting to know you pretty well.” He said, his fingers trailing down her back.
“You know what I mean.” She playfully slapped his chest, then settled back against him. “You’re a hard core rocker and I’m, well, just a regular person.”
“I think that’s what makes this idea great. You’re calm and nurturing where I’m not.”
“I suppose. And you’re confident and bold, and I’m not either of those things.” Jacqueline laid on him, thinking, tracing the dragon tattoo the covered most of his chest, and basking in how good it felt in his arms. After a moment she said to him, “This is a crazy idea, you know that right?”
“The craziest.”
“We need to make sure we take things slowly. Gradually.”
Dante laughed. A low rumbling sound that had her blood start racing again. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but we don’t do ‘slow’ very well.”
Smiling, she swung her leg over his hips and straddled him. Pinning his arms above him, she trailed kisses along his jaw, letting herself go once more.
“Well in that case we should just fuck it and do it our own way.”
“That’s my girl. We’re already a family now. Blood has nothing to do with it.”
THE END