“I thought you were trying to make her feel safe.”
“I am. But you’re not the one she needs to feel safe with—not at first, at least. She needs to trust me in order to ever feel somewhat comfortable about being sent up here.”
He nods slowly. “You want me to be the bad guy, so you can be her savior.”
“Basically.”
“Well, I’d be more than happy to. Do you have something in mind, or do I get to decide?”
I consider for a moment. “You can decide. As long as you run your plan by me first.”
Sucking his lower lip between his teeth, he nods enthusiastically, eyes coming alive as he starts devising ideas.
“Dinner will be ready at seven,” I say and turn to leave. I really hope I’m not going to regret this. That worry seems to be the very foundation of this arrangement, and it makes me ask myself what I was thinking when I started all of this.
The answer comes to me when I leave Killian’s room and walk down the stairs to check on my little pianist.
When I told Killian to look her up a couple of months ago, all I cared about was him winning the competition. I thought Jenna would be just another one of Killian’s inconsequential girls, who needed to be kept in line. By the time I realized there was so much more to her, I was in too deep to pull the plug.
I had no idea I would care so much for her.
23
The Dinner
Killian
I’m in the kitchen twenty minutes before dinner, wanting to see Jenna’s reaction when she comes and finds me here. Dad told me she doesn’t know all three of us will be eating together, and with the way he’s been sheltering her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she thinks it will only be the two of them. She’s so naïve. Always has been.
As expected, Jenna startles to a halt in the living room when she appears ten minutes later and sees me sitting at the dining table.
She’s wearing a strappy blush dress that hugs her breasts and waist perfectly, then spreads out in a billowy skirt. I figure Dad must have gotten it for her since it looks way too expensive for her meager living. I must say I agree with his taste. She looks incredibly cute. All innocent and breakable. Everything I have avoided since that first night with her.
Rubbing my hand against my left pocket, I feel the outline of the toy I have there. A ring gag. I push my other hand into my right pocket and fidget with the two other toys I’ve brought. A vibrator egg and a small butt plug. Dad might want to keep hera “secondhand virgin,” as he calls it, but we’ve agreed that small toys like egg vibrators are okay. I really don’t mind about the virgin thing; as long as I get to defile her ass, I’m a happy man.
I can’t wait to see her squirm when I stuff all three things inside her holes. Unable to hide my rapidly growing excitement, I flash her a wide smile. The effect is delicious. Worry widens her eyes, and she’s just about to turn and bolt, but Dad stops her.
“Go stand at the end of the table,” he tells her and points at the empty end, then continues placing glasses and silverware around the three plates on my end.
Watching me wearily, she takes a step forward, pauses, then lowers her gaze and hurries to the end of the table as if getting there fast will protect her from me.
She has no idea.
Folding her hands in front of her, she glues her eyes to the tabletop. I keep watching her while Dad moves about, bringing pots and bowls to the table. I want to take in the delicious food he has prepared as the rich scent of his Italian Bolognese drifts to my nose, but I want to unnerve Jenna even more.
And it works. Jenna starts fumbling nervously, pinching and rubbing the skin on her hands, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
At seven on the dot, Dad comes to stand behind the chair across from me.
“Dinner is ready, but first, we have a little something that needs to be prepared.”
Jenna casts a nervous glance at him, already knowing the thing in question is her.
“Bend over the table, Jenna, and pull up your skirt so Killian can plug your ass. There’s no sense in letting that hole go to waste while you’re sitting here.”
“What?” Her lips freeze in a shocked ‘O.’ Then she shakes her head. “Please don’t make me—”
Dad cuts her off. “Enough with the begging. You know better than to try to change my mind.”
