Page 47 of These Family Ties
“With a boy?” he growls as he sets his glass down in the sink, then takes a menacing step toward me.
I narrow my eyes, the crease in my brow deepening as my face twists into a scowl to match his. The spike of anger in my chest surprises me. What the fuck is his problem? He’s ignored my existence for the last four years and now wants to pretend like what I do matters to him? “I’m eighteen, Seanathair. I’m an adult. One that never goes anywhere, mind you. So yes, a date, with a boy.”
There’s a knock on the front door, and I shake my head as I pick up my purse. Seanathair’s voice has me pausing. “I want to meet him.”
I breathe out a laugh, shaking my head again. When I finally look at him, he’s wearing a scowl and has a sneer twisting his lips. I’m not sure why, but at this moment, I don’t care. All I ever wanted was for him to pay attention to me, and he chooses now to do it. He chooses to pick a fight as the first real conversation we’ve had since my parents died. I grab my jacket and smile. “No offense, Seanathair, but why do you care?”
I’m met with silence. He knows whatever the fuck could possibly come out of his mouth isn’t a good enough excuse for his behavior. Then or now. I shake my head a final time as another knock sounds on the door, then slip on my jacket and turn away from him. “Don’t wait up.”
I don’t look back or wait for a response before I open the door and leave.
***
It felt good to tell Owen not to wait up after hearing him say it every night for who knows how long. It felt good to get out of the house for something besides school or the typical girls movie night we all do. Most of all, it felt good to be looked at the way Nate had been looking at me all night. He was such a sweetheart and a gentleman. We never seemed to run out of stuff to talk about, and he didn’t try anything creepy. For the first time in a long time, I was able to relax around someone. He dropped me off around midnight, walking me to my door and leaving me with an innocent kiss on the cheek.
And they say chivalry is dead.
I’ve been seeing Nate for a few weeks and things are good. He makes me laugh, asks about my day, and takes an overall general interest in my life. To say I’m eating up the attention like a champion at a pie eating contest is an understatement, but I’m honestly not sure it’s going anywhere romantically. Thankfully, we haven’t done much beyond heavy petting. I like Nate, he just doesn’t make me melt or give me the warm and tinglies. We’d probably be better off as friends.
Owen still grumbles every time I go out, as if what I do suddenly matters to him. Must not matter too much, considering he still goes out every night himself and stays out later than normal. I try not to let that hurt, and tell myself if he cared, he’d be around to actually care. It still doesn’t stop the hollow feeling in my chest when I come home to an empty house constantly.
Only this time, it might not be so empty. Owen’s car is already in the driveway when Nate drops me off. Judging by the darkness of the house, he’s likely already asleep, and frankly, I don’t want to wake him. I snick open the door and slip inside, carefully closing it behind me, then flip the lock in place and tiptoe my way to the staircase. As I raise my foot to take the first step, a groan catches my attention. I whip my head toward the kitchen and listen for any sound, wondering if I imagined it. Then I hear it again. Curiosity gets the better of me and I creep down the hall. I’ve never seen Owen when he comes home late. I wonder if he’s drunk, maybe trying to move through the kitchen. The hallway leads into the kitchen, and I take a quick peek around but see nothing. The living room is off to the right, so I poke my head around the corner, looking into the sunken room. The lamp on the side table by the couch is on the lowest setting, a woman I don’t recognize is naked with her legs spread wide on the couch, and my seanathair is shirtless on his knees with his face buried between her legs.
I slap a hand over my mouth to cover my gasp, shock rooting me to the spot. My gaze travels over the scene in front of me as if I have no control. I can’t look away, reeling from the knowledge at just how good-looking Owen’s body is. Tight muscles spread every inch of his back and arms, and a sheen of sweat glistens in the dim light. He groans and growls while eating her savagely, and she grips the couch as her body coils tighter from pleasure. She throws her head back, threading her fingers in his short hair and letting out a mewl.
He growls again, lifting from her pussy and tossing her hands away from him. His hand wraps her throat, and he brings her close to him, his mouth wet with her juices. “I told you not to make a fucking sound.”
She gives a tight nod, and he goes back to eating her pussy with enthusiasm, moaning in his throat. I bite the inside of my cheek when a mix of jealousy and arousal pools in my lower belly. Anger I’ve never experienced pumps through my veins at the sight of him lavishing her body with attention. A jolt of panic hits me, and my breath catches in my throat. My chest squeezes around my pounding heart. Yes, I’ve admitted just how hot my seanathair is. Pushing sixty, the man is well maintained. This, though? This is another thing entirely. Is it because it’s an erotic scene? Or am I aroused by my guardian? Am I attracted to him?
He presses two fingers into her pussy, pumping his hand hard while sucking on her clit. She cries out when her orgasm hits, then I realize I’m rubbing myself through my jeans. Fuck. Before the woman on the couch finishes catching her breath, Owen stops eating her, rises to his feet, and backhands her in the face.
I freeze again, stunned by his actions. He’s never raised a hand to me. Ever. I’ve never seen that kind of rage on his face before, but more than anything, I’m shocked at my own reaction. How my pussy is clenched at the sight. He’d be gentler with me. Before I can dissect that thought, he grabs her throat again, picking her up and bringing her face to his. My eyes bulge at the size of his erection, and my mouth waters. I’m not completely innocent, I’ve seen a dick before, but that? That’s not a dick; Owen has a cock.
“Keep your whore mouth shut, or I’ll keep it shut for you.” He threatens while squeezing her throat before dropping her back down. With speed I can hardly keep up with, he sheaths his cock in a condom, spreads her legs wide, and slams inside her. She bites her wrist to muffle her screams as his powerful thighs flex with each thrust into her.
My thong fills with another gush of arousal. I’ve been having odd reactions and thoughts about him but figured it was the lack of attention. But this? I’m more than a little turned on while secretly watching my grandfather fuck a stranger on the couch. I’m dripping as I slip my hand into my jeans. He’s vicious and violent, and hearing and seeing him be so brutal with her only makes my core clench tighter. He reaches forward and grips her throat once more, and the act is so primal that I slip two fingers inside my hole. I’m greeted with my arousal and use that to rub my clit with my thumb as he fucks her harder. The muscles in his back ripple with each thrust of his hips. He’s so possessive and powerful.
My core clenches as my pleasure builds, the dark side of me longing to feel his hands on me that way. I’m getting close, so close, and what tips me over the edge? What sends a jolt of pleasure to my core so intense I bite into my lip to keep quiet? Something that shakes me to my very soul in all the wrong ways.
The woman’s face turns red and splotchy, her mouth hanging open as she claws at his hands. Still, he fucks her, seeming spurred on by her panicked attempts to get him to let go. He doesn’t, and if anything, he squeezes tighter, using the leverage of his hold to slam into her brutally. That sends a bolt of glee through me, my own arousal ratcheting up. Her face turns purple, her eyes bulging as they glaze over before rolling back into her head. The fight leaves her, and her hands fall to the couch as her body goes limp.
Owen growls out an approving sound, fucking her like the ragdoll she’s become before he stills. His body shudders with his release before he slips his softening cock out of the now dead woman.
I stare into her lifeless eyes, knowing my seanathair’s hands squeezed the life from her, and the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had peaks and crashes through me.
Pulling my hand from jeans, panic claws up my throat at the scene in front of me. Before he has a chance to stand and notice my presence, I stumble up the stairs, then scramble down the hall to close myself in my room. I lean against my door and slide to the floor, my clit still throbbing with aftershocks and my fingers damp from my juices.
Did that just happen? Did I watch my seanathair have sex… and get off on watching?
Did I have the best orgasm of my life while watching him kill during sex?
Owen
The moment I come, I shove myself off the girl I mistakenly brought home. What the fuck was I thinking? Kyrie will be home soon, if she isn’t already, and I sure as fuck can’t let her walk in to see a dead woman sprawled out on our couch. I pace the floor, gripping my head and digging my fingertips into my skull. Swiping my pants from the floor, I fish my phone from the pocket and shove my legs in. There’s only one person I can call with this.
Once Sahib, my best friend and partner, is on his way, I realize how late it's gotten. Shit. What if Kyrie did come home? Panic weaves into my chest as I jog up the stairs quietly, then sneak down the hall to her room. The door is closed and no light shines from underneath. Is she asleep? Did she know I was downstairs? Did she see? No, she couldn’t have. There’s no way she would have quietly walked away if she’d witnessed me strangle someone to death.
Holding my breath, I try the handle, and it turns. I gently push the door open to see a lump under the blankets. I tiptoe, keeping my presence unknown as I approach the bed to see Kyrie curled up. She appears to be sleeping; her breath is even, and her body is relaxed. Thank fuck. I can only hope that means she came home and went right to bed without even realizing I was in the living room.