Mia pulls back the dressing room curtain revealing a strapless light green and white dress with a corset top and short tulle bottom. She strikes a pose with her phone held out in front of her, lips pouted.
I shake my head and lean back in the chair I’ve been waiting in for what feels like hours.
Watching my baby sister parade around in the sluttiest dresses she can find for homecoming is exhausting. I suggest something a little longer and she immediately goes the opposite direction. I make a casual comment that it would be a good look with her hair up, she goes on and on about how she’ll wear it down or add extensions to it for a more dramatic effect. Over the years, I’ve mastered the art of dealing with all of my siblings, especially during their teen fits. Most of course were handled via text or over the phone because of my decision to travel for work. Tantrums and tears were soothed with just the right combination of words to keep them as well as my parents sane. Eventually, video chats helped and added another level of ‘confidential’ conversations to our relationships, allowing me to continue my reign of trusted big sister. Life with Mia is different. I’m here. I’m physically here to help guide and encourage yet I feel further away than I have with all the others.
“Do you have to take pictures of every dress you try on?”
“Of course I do,” she sassily snaps. “My followers need to experience every moment with me.”
Do they really?
I bite back the bitter sarcasm dancing on my tongue. “Maybe you should leave them wanting more?”
“Absolutely not! Are you cray?”
Oh, I’m the crazy one? Not the sixteen-year-old with so called followers who are probably really just stalkers in the making.
Oh my God, I sound like Holden.
Gotta get out more than this.
“Look,” Mia flips her hair over her shoulder, “I’m constantly being scouted by talent agencies because of my posts about my wardrobe and make up. And I know you’re totally against me modeling-”
“I am not.”
“but big things are going to happen for me! I’m not going to stop showing them why they should sign me!”
Her overdramatic tantrum shifts me uncomfortably in my seat.
Ugh. She sounds like a more articulate version of Sage except instead of the conversation being about my refusal to let the entourage of My Little Ponies subjugate the household, it’s my subtle refusal to let random strangers control how she conducts herself online.
“When did I become the enemy here? I’m the one who has Holden check all the agencies you’ve given me. It’s not my fault they’re fakes, Mia.”
All three of them so far. After the guy at the mall gave her his card, a couple weeks later she got an email, couple weeks after that a direct message on IG with a link. All fake. All scams of some sort. All shut down now, thanks to Holden.
It pleases him to protect people.
It pleases him to protect any extension of me…
“How do I know they really were and you weren’t just having su novio-”
“Jefe-”
“Lie and say that they were to help mom and papi stop me from chasing my dream!?”
The rant fuels rage inside of me I know better than to give into. “You think I’m helping our parents sabotage tu carrera inexistente?”
She folds her arms across her chest. “Si.”
“¿Por qué? Why would I do that to you?”
“Because you’re jealous,” the venom in her voice pains as intended. “You’re jealous that you didn’t look this good when you were my age and were so busy trying to raise us that you never went out and chased your own damn dreams.”
Her hurtful words render me speechless.
No, I didn’t look like her at 16, partially due to my hormone imbalance, but mainly because I knew the consequences of trying to flash my ass for cash, a concept completely lost upon her. She’s fortunate enough to have been primarily raised in the suburbs. To be able to ignore what life was like when they had to make due with half a sandwich since money was tight for the week. Unlike her I knew girls who showed that much cleavage and ass because they were being prostituted out at fourteen or gang affiliated at fifteen. She’s right in the aspect I was too busy trying to help shelter the others. But wrong about the dream. My dream was to help raise kids and I successfully did that with them. Well…most of them. She’s proving my track record isn’t perfect.
All of a sudden, my phone interrupts the conversation.
Grateful for the change, I pull it out of my wristlet, and promptly answer when I see who it is. “This is Miss Flores.”
“Hello, Miss Flores, this is Nurse Kraumwell with Moon and Stars Childhood Academy.”
“Yes. Is everything okay?”
“I called Mr. Reiss, but there was no answer. You are marked on her records as her secondary caregiver?”
“Yes.”
“Unfortunately, Sage is running a minor fever of 100. Policy states any fever at this level is required to be picked up by a parent and kept home for a full 24 hours. However, since it’s Friday, she just needs to have been fever free for a full 24 hours before you drop her off on Monday.”
“Of course. Of course. Is she…acting strangely?”
“Her teacher mentioned she had been a little lethargic and she skipped her morning snack. She’s currently lying on the cot in my office, barely able to keep her eyes open.”
My heart sinks. “Poor little Sunshine.”
There’s a hum from the woman on the other end. “We will need you to come sign her out as soon as possible.”
“Right.” I steal a glance at my youngest sister who has moved onto to recording a video. “I’ll be there in half an hour or less.”
“Thank you for your promptness.”
“Of course.”
As soon as I end the call, I prepare to speak to my sister, but she lifts a finger for me to wait until she’s finished. Once she’s done, she lowers the phone, and announces, “Thousands of viewers were just watching my LIVE video! You should see how many viewers love this dress!”
The dress that looks like something from a trashy Easter collection? Probably not. They most likely love the view it gives them of her tits.
“Mia, I have to go pick up Sage from school. She’s sick.”
Her pout is immediate. “But we weren’t done shopping.”
“And I’m sorry about that hermanita, but if you want your dream dress, which I know isn’t going to be at a dream price for our parents, I suggest you let me do my job, so I can pay for it.”
Her eyes light up. “You’re going to buy my dress?!”
“Assuming you don’t accuse me of being jealous again.”
She quickly shakes her head. “Lo siento, Meena! Seriously! Totally! I didn’t mean it.”
Not sure if she’s telling the truth or just saying what needs to be heard to buy whatever she wants, I offer her a sweet smile. “Get changed and I’ll drop you off at Hil’s a little early. Maybe you two can come back up later and continue the hunt.”
“We’re going to the gym and tanning later. I don’t know that we’ll have time…” She rambles off to herself at the same time she enters the changing room. “Maybe we can on Sunday? I’m running out of time! It’s like two weeks away!”
“I’ll…see what I can do,” I let out a defeated sigh.
The last thing I want is to disappoint her, but if Holden gets caught up in work this weekend and Sage isn’t any better, I can’t just skip out to go shopping. She’ll need me. And technically I get paid to be there. It’s my job…even if it is a job I wish I was doing for free. Unfortunately, after the mouth bang he delivered, which made it hard to walk right for the rest of the day, he retreated back to his old ways. No flirting. No provocative glances. Not even any indication he intends on ever having something like that happen between us again. These past six days are probably the longest I’ve ever had under his roof. Ugh. Why do I get the nagging feeling the worst of the cold shoulder blizzard has yet to come?
After dropping Mia off and picking up Sage, I get the two of us settled at home. She battles me in tears about not wanting to eat while I microwave her mac and cheese, but the moment it’s in front of her she inhales it along with a glass of orange juice. Once she’s taken some medicine we both change into comfy pajamas and lie in my bed to watch cartoons together.
I opt for a movie knowing as soon as she falls asleep it’s what I am going to be stuck watching until she wakes up. With my body slightly propped up on my pillows, Sage arranges her tiny head on my stomach, angled to watch the television. To no surprise, it doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes for the medicine to kick in and her little snores to start.
One hand tucks itself comfortably behind my head while the other gently rubs her back in hopes of providing a little extra comfort.
“Meena!” Holden’s voice shouts loudly from the other room. “Meena!”
Rather than risk waking Sage up, I wait patiently for him to round the corner into my room.
“Meena! Where the-”
My finger flies to my lips as his face appears in my doorway.
Whatever panic that had taken hold vanishes. His shoulders drop at the same time his hand clutches his chest. Quietly, he questions, “Is she okay?”
“Just a little fever,” I reply back in a stage whisper. “Gave her lunch and some meds. She just fell asleep.”
He cautiously approaches. “Want me to move her?”
I shake my head slowly. “Let her rest here for a bit. Move her now and she might not go back down as easy.”
Holden nods and stills his body at the edge of my bed. His attention falls back to his daughter and the sadness in his eyes is crushing. “I should’ve answered the call.”
“You-”
“She needed me.”
“You-”
“I wasn’t there. I should’ve been there. I’m always there…”
“Holden,” I interrupt the self-deprecation receiving eye contact. “Stop beating yourself up. You were clearly working.”
And looking like a wet dream in that designer suit.
It’s always black pants, black jacket, and a white shirt. The color of the tie occasionally changes, but how sexy he looks in it never does.
“This is what I’m here for, remember?”
He gives me a short smile and motions his head towards us. “Mind if I join in?”
I push away the urge to contemplate that this means more than what it appears to be. “There’s always room for you.”
Holden carefully lowers himself on the other side of Sage, lies on his side, and replaces my hand with his. We shift ourselves, so we’re each using one hand like a pillow, though my free one rests at the top of my mid-section.
Still maintaining the soft volume, he asks, “Has she been complaining about any pains? You think I should take her to the doctor? Get her checked out?”
I try not to smirk. “Do you always panic like this when they get sick?”
“Yes and no.” He gives her back a gentle stroke. “It’s always been me around when they get this way. Even when Beth was alive, I was always the one who took them to the doctor, who gave their medicine, who held them until they could stop crying long enough to fall asleep. I’m not used to this.” Holden finally locks eyes with me. “But I damn sure appreciate it.”
How the hell do I tell my hopes not to bother getting up after hearing some shit like that?
Instead of focusing on what he has made very clear will never happen and damn sure won’t happen with a four-year-old wedged between us, I ask, “Everything okay with work?”
The grump is instant. “I’ve got Brewster so far up my ass when she sneezes it’s coming out of my mouth.”
“Vívido.”
“Does that mean vivid?”
“Si.”
A smile creeps to his face. “See. My kids aren’t the only one learning Español.”
I quickly catch my giggle with my free hand.
His attention drifts back to the television. “What the hell are we watching?”
“Madagascar.”
“Why have I never seen this?”
“How have you never seen this? Sage is obsessed with the hippo.”
He frowns. “Last time I heard she was obsessed with Minions and My Little Pony.”
“The Pony craze is unfortunately still here, however, Minions are out. Sassy Hippo is in.”
Holden lets out a defeated sigh.
“Welcome to having a four-year-old girl. They’re very fickle.”
After rolling his eyes, he looks at me again. “It’s just gonna get worse the older she gets, isn’t it?”
“Si.”
“Fuck…”
“Tell me about it. I watched Mia try on twelve homecoming dresses alone today, all of which at some point in the two hours we were shopping, were ‘must haves’.”
He grumbles, “She’s never going to homecoming.”
“Or prom?”
“Fuck no.”
“And not dating before she’s 35, right?”
His eyebrows dart down. “She can date after I’m dead.”
Another chuckle is grabbed from me, but this time Holden joins in. “You know, all fathers get this way about their little girls. It’s what moms are there for. To help keep the balance.”
There’s a small sting of sadness in his expression, which instantly shifts regret onto mine.
I rush to correct my callous comment when he sighs, “Or in her case, you.”
My lips press together uncertain of how to respond.
“Hopefully, she’ll always have you…”
He has to know I can’t be the nanny forever. Eventually, they won’t need me. Eventually, they’ll be old enough to govern themselves while he’s out saving lives from being kidnapped or whatever it is he does. Eventually…he’ll move on. I hope he learns to love again…even if it’s not with me.
The two of us return to watching the movie without another word. A little after midway, I dose off, too comfortable with the warmth radiating from Sage’s body as well as her father’s. By the time I begin to stir, the two of them are completely gone, and the menu options have popped up onto the screen requesting my next choice.
I slightly yawn, reach for the remote on the nightstand, and prepare to turn it off when Holden unexpectedly walks back into the room. This time he shuts the door behind him, locking it in the process. Curiosity cracks my jaw open yet I can’t seem to fathom the question I want to ask.
Maybe I’m tired of being rejected.
Maybe I’m tired of being the one to beg for more.
Maybe I should figure out a way to fall out of love with a man who will probably never return the sentiment.
Holden’s actions progress with precision as he silently slithers underneath the sheets. The thrumming of my heartbeat reaches deafening levels only seconds prior to his lips pressing firmly against mine. My mouth parts on a soft moan and his tongue wastes no time entrancing mine with every feverish trace. His solid frame shifts itself on top of me causing my arms to wind around his neck in hopes of keeping him anchored in place.
Anchored to this moment.
To me.
I grind my body against his, igniting a low grumble in the back of his throat. Like I feared, he pulls his lips from mine and ceases further movement.
And so the routine retreat begins…
Irritation and sexual frustration collide, launching my mouth open to chew him out when the feeling of his fingertips gripping the waistband on my shorts shuts it. Without speaking, I lift my body upward and assist in the process of removing them. My legs effortlessly spread wider to accommodate his frame and Holden doesn’t hesitate to take the opportunity. His lips descend back to mine while the hand not helping keep himself propped up busies itself below the sheets. The faint sound of a zipper falling hits my ears and I clutch onto his dress shirt covered biceps to brace for impact.
Holden’s cock pierces through the slick heat like its returning home instead of discovering new territory. He groans viciously, grabbing my leg for leverage. I gasp against his mouth at the enticing invasion and a smirk flitters onto his lips. Rush after rush of wetness attempts to drown his dick, but the action seems to make it swell more.
Holy shit, how is that fucking possible?
With his eyes planted in mine, he drags himself out to the tip before pushing himself back to the hilt.
My pussy clenches down at the same time my lungs burn for reprieve during the demonstration of his power.
His claim.
“Mas…”
“More?”
“Si.” I brazenly beg, “More…I need more…”
He lowers his lips to the side of my neck where he nips as his cock begins a tenacious thrusting. The harsh heat of his breath pales in comparison to the harshness of his movements. Holden’s dick dives again and again, every push reasserting his earlier proclamation over ownership of my body. My pussy does its best to process not only the new limits it’s being stretched to, but the delicious difference bareness makes.
As if wired into my thoughts, Holden’s lips bump against my ear to state, “I know you’re clean. I’ve seen your records…”
That doesn’t surprise me.
Or scare me.
His teeth latch onto my earlobe and my body arches upward in warning it’s too overwhelmed. He takes the cue to capitalize on the situation by increasing his speed, receiving shallow whimpers in return. Each time my mouth moves to cry out, Holden captures it, sucking the sounds straight out of me and into him. The cadence of his heart beat in sync with mine is hypnotic. The faster it becomes, the more intoxicated I find myself feeling. With the weight of his body providing pleasing pressure, his cock knocking against my g-spot, and his tongue mercilessly overpowering mine, I can’t stop myself from collapsing underneath the delicious dominance consuming me.
Breathlessly, I whimper, “Viniendo. Oh my God, viniendo!”
He growls at the declaration as much as the use of a language he loves hearing me speak.
My pussy pulsates profusely, bathing his cock in gratitude, in appreciation, in devotion. His thrusting continues for only a moment more before it falters and blazing bursts blast inside of me. Our orgasms collide and a unified moan is extorted from the both of us.
I dig my nails further into his biceps at the same time his cut the side of my bare thigh. Together we shut our eyes, shudder, and surrender to something we should’ve months ago.
Years ago.
This is just the beginning.
Or at least I hope like hell it is.