Page 18 of Deep Wood

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“The power’s out,” I say. One of the quirks of living on a mountain is that the power always goes out when it storms. “It’ll come back when the rain stops.”

“Guess we’ll have to keep ourselves busy.” Silas kisses my neck. Finally, his cock softens and slips out of my body. He kisses me softly, whispering against my lips, “That was beautiful, Norah. I’m sorry I sprang the whole Daddy thing on you.”

“It’s okay. I loved it.”

“I’ve never wanted to be someone’s Daddy before,” he says. “But I can’t imagine playing with you any other way.”

“I’ve never wanted to be anyone’s baby girl, until now.” I bite my lip as I smile. “You’re saying I’m your first?”

His fingers tangle in the hair at the base of my neck. “My first and only.”

I sigh into his kiss. We kiss and hold each other until the chill causes my arms to break out in goosebumps. Silas grabs the spare blanket from the back of the sofa and wraps me in it, then adds a few logs to the fire. I notice a wet spot on the table between my thighs, and recognizing it as cum—his and mine—I drag my fingertip through the puddle and then taste it.

“Oh, baby,” he growls. “Watching you do that is so fucking hot.”

I bite my lower lip and shrug. “I just like the taste of you.”

We cuddle by the fire until our growling stomachs force us to seek out food. Fortunately, the stove runs on gas, so we don’t need electricity to cook. Silas heats us up a can of tomato soup, while I make the grilled cheese sandwiches.

The power comes back on halfway through our meal.

“It’s too bad,” he says. “I kinda liked eating by firelight.”

“Me, too.” I sip tomato soup from my mug. “Is that how it was before this place had electricity?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” A hint of sadness seeps into his smile. I consider letting it go, but the not knowing has to be worse than knowing.

“Did something happen between you and my dad?”

Silas stares at his plate for a while. “A long time ago, before you were born, Jack broke into my apartment and took something very special from me.”

“What did he take?”

“A rifle. It was my dad’s last gift to me before he died.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “Jack sold it to buy drugs.”

“Oh...” My heart aches for Silas, but also for my dad. In a few rare moments of vulnerability, my dad told me he’d done some things in his youth that he wasn’t proud of. He wouldn’t go into detail, but it was obvious the awful things he’d done still haunted him. I suspect it’s why he was always so forgiving toward my own fuckups.

“It’s not just that he stole i

t,” Silas adds. “It’s that, when I confronted him about it, he lied to my face. Before my dad died, he asked me if it was worth throwing away almost twenty years of friendship over a stupid grudge. But Jack apparently thought nothing of throwing it all away over a bag of coke, so...” Silas shrugs.

Guilt winds tighter and tighter around my throat, like vines. For days, I’ve wanted to tell him everything, the whole messed-up story. But I'm scared once he learns the truth about what I’ve done, the things I allowed to happen, he'll hate me.

My dad lied to him twenty years ago, and they never saw each other again. If I tell him I’m the reason my father’s dead, he won’t be able to see me as his little girl. The day we met, he looked me in the eye and told me not to lie to him. A man like Silas isn't going to differentiate between a lie of omission and a half truth.

I bring our dishes to the sink, rinse them, then tell Silas I’m going to take a shower. In the bedroom, I decide it’s finally time to turn on my phone. As I suspected, there are over twenty missed calls and three dozen text messages. Some from my mom, a few from my friends, but most of them from Brody.

“What’s wrong?” Silas asks from the doorway. I must be wearing my anxiety on my face.

“Nothing,” I say, turning my phone back off. “Just some stupid texts.”

Honestly, I wish they were just stupid. Stupid, I can take. Rude, insulting, even disgusting messages can be purged without a second thought. But the threats Brody’s been sending me are bone-chilling. Not least of all because I know he’s capable of following through.

“From your ex?” Silas asks, joining me on the bed. I nod. He folds his arms around me and strokes my back. “You’re safe now, baby girl. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”

If only I could believe him.

Chapter Nine


Tags: Margot Scott Erotic