Dominance: (A Submission Series Reader) (Songs of Submission Book 8) by CD Reiss

Dominance: (A Submission Series Reader) (Songs of Submission Book 8) by CD Reiss

Author:CD Reiss [Reiss, CD]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2014-10-22T06:00:00+00:00


The backyard buzzed with activity. Fiona, never one to miss an opportunity to invite Deirdre’s scorn, had managed to book psychics, tarot card readers, crystal healers and a hypnotist for the cocktail hour.

The black baby grand had been brought onto the patio, and the four musicians Dad had plucked from some music school in central LA set up stands and instruments. Piano, two violins, and cello. Except the first violinist wasn’t tuning a violin. She was tuning a viola. Hardly worth making a fuss over, except she was stunning, with full lips and long, dark hair. She had to be five-ten in flat feet, with a chin that pointed upwards as if daring the world to hit her on the jaw.

“She’s magnificent, no?”

My father’s voice beside me, admiring a girl who was probably in high school. I looked away quickly.

“Jail bait, dad. Ever hear of it?” I turned to face him. In his late fifties, he was still a good-looking guy. His red hair had turned completely silver five years earlier, and stayed fully attached to his head. The girls loved him. And when I said girls, I meant just that. Girls.

“You’re avoiding me. I was looking for some common ground.”

“Uh-huh.” I didn’t know where to start with him. Common-ground wise, we had Rachel. That was awkward enough. I glanced around. We were relatively alone, a situation Mom never let slide if she could.

He spoke quietly, barely moving his lips. “You never stop wanting them that age. Every man fantasizes about the dew on the flower.”

“You’re sick.”

“Were you not just looking at that girl? She can’t be a day over fifteen. On the evening of your engagement, no less. It’s time to accept reality, son. The need is biological. You can fight it your whole life if you want to, but it will be a fight.”

He looked like he’d wanted to say that to me for a long time. Like it was some kind of big talk every man gives their son, and it had been denied him by my avoidance and Mom’s intervention.

“We aren’t having a meeting of the minds on underage girls.”

“Except the one,” he said as if we had some delightful shared history.

“I’m going to need you to stay away from my wife, and if there are children, especially if there are children—“

He got that look. The one like he was being electrocuted. It was hard rage directed forward. I’d only seen it once before, days after I found out what he was and I saw him touching Theresa’s arm when he spoke to her.

“Do not ever presume that I don’t have boundaries, son.”

Much as an animal won’t shit where they eat, he’d never touched any of my sisters, but when I flew at him I didn’t know that. We may have been evenly matched the day he laid a chaste touch on Theresa, but at my engagement party, I was older, taller, and less fearful.

“You will never be alone with my children,” I said. “Those are my boundaries.



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