Xavier
when we get home on Sunday, I haven’t given a second’s thought to Melanie. It hasn’t occurred to me to wonder if there might be some sign of her left behind, if she could have maybe forgotten something-maybe even left a note. I’ve been so completely transported by the events of the past twenty-four hours that I’ve practically forgotten about her.
So it’s a shock when I unlock the door and walk in to find Melanie waiting in the kitchen.
“Hello!” she trills from a stool at the kitchen island, lifting both hands and one foot in an overly-exuberant greeting, as if we’d be happy to see her. Her phone and a glass of wine are on the island in front of her.
“Melanie,” I say, stunned. “What are you doing here?” My lawyer was supposed to have her escorted off the premises. It occurs to me I haven’t even looked at my phone since last night, I’ve been so utterly consumed by Hazel, fucking her again and again over the course of the night and this morning until she complained that her pussy was sore.
“Oh,” Melanie waves a hand, as if this is all so irrelevant. “I just need another night. Cathy’s not back till tomorrow so I don’t have anywhere to stay. I explained it all to Patrick last night.”
Patrick, my trusted lawyer, the one who’s been working on our divorce case for the past year, should know better. I pull my phone out of my pocket and realize I’ve missed a whole flurry of activity. Two calls from Melanie, three calls from Patrick, and about twenty text messages from both.
I skim through Patrick’s messages.
… angry to the point of being violent, says one. … Not sure if you want me to call the police.
Jesus.
“Honey, why don’t you bring your bag up your room while I talk to your mother?” I say to Hazel, who rolls her eyes as hard as only a teenager can. She walks past her mother without looking at her, and Melanie doesn’t look at her either. It’s like Hazel doesn’t even register for Melanie.
“Melanie, I was very clear.”
“Oh, don’t start with this!” she exclaims, with an eye roll to match her daughter’s. “It’s one night, Xavi I’m your wife. The least you can do is give me a place to sleep for one night when the only other option is the street. Jesus, you can be a real asshole, you know that?”
During the course of our marriage, I have had occasion to see Melanie in a real fit of rage. It doesn’t happen that often, but when it does-when she’s pushed too far, and feels cornered-she snaps. She screams like a banshee and she breaks things. As I reflect on that, I notice that the couch is slightly askew, the cushions looking scattered and out of place, and the coffee table has been pushed to the edge of the rug. I can only imagine what happened last night when Patrick tried to get her to leave.
It’s better not to provoke her, I decide. Not with Hazel in the house, not with the wild, slightly unhinged look I can see in her eyes.
“Fine,” I bite out. “This is the last time.”
“Of course,” she says placatingly. “Thank you. We’re going to have a great time, you’ll see! I’m going to make dinner. A special Father’s Day dinner just for you.”
This morning, in a cringe-worthy yet totally taboo move, Hazel had reminded me what day it is. ‘Happy Father’s Day,’ she’d whispered devilishly as my cock softened inside her. It had been slightly uncomfortable then, it’s even more uncomfortable now, as my wife talks about making me a special dinner while her daughter, whom I’ve fucked four times since yesterday, is upstairs in her room.
“Right,” I answer awkwardly. “Father’s Day.” I pick up my bag to head upstairs just as Hazel leans over the mezzanine railing.
“I need my bath, Daddy,” she calls, brazenly. There’s a challenge in her tone. She’s threatening to draw our relationship out in front of her mother, or willing to taunt her with it, I don’t know. Melanie shoots me a glance.
“She has trouble with the faucets,” I improvise weakly, and head upstairs to where Hazel is waiting with a smile.
“We need to be careful,” I say under my breath, once we’re both in the bathroom.
“Why? That woman is not a mother to me. I don’t care what she thinks.”
“Well, I do,” I answer hotly, the stress of finding Melanie in my house getting to me. “I have no desire to be branded a sexual predator.”
“I’m eighteen,” she says with exasperation. “I’m legal.”
“Still…I’d just rather be circumspect around your mother. Is that so much to ask?”
I plug the tub and start the water and when I look up, Hazel has stripped completely naked, her perfect body on display in front of me. Despite the fact that we last fucked only three or four hours ago, my cock instantly starts to get hard.
“Hazel,” I say warningly.
“What?” She bats pale eyelashes at me. “I’m just getting ready for my bath.”
“You’re tempting Daddy is what you’re doing,” I say in a low voice, already aching for her. “I just told you we need to be circumspect.”
“But the door’s locked,” she says sweetly. “Mommy never has to know.”
I groan, knowing that being alone with Hazel naked right now is a terrible idea and knowing equally, as she does, that I cannot resist her. She lowers a hand between her legs, stroking herself with her fingers and pouts at me.
“I want your cum in me, Daddy.”