Page 31 of Father Knows Best (A Family Affair #1)

nineteen

. . .

sutton

The Solution

My dad is right. We can’t just give up. I can’t just walk out. I know that I’m not capable of giving Avery the things she needs–I don’t have some weird hangup, there’s no trauma in my childhood and nothing deep-seated inside me that prevents me from doing those things, or being that way.

It’s preference.

And just because I am a male does not mean that I want to grab her by the throat and spit in her face. Or have sex with her ass, or make her swallow my cum.

Avery stole my breath the first moment I laid eyes on her, over a year ago, in that quiet house where our worlds thankfully collided.

She’s radiantly beautiful and her heart is made of the best things, tender and empathetic, woven with an authenticity that disarms and a pure, real kindness.

She’s delicate but strong, and I’m utterly enchanted by every facet of her being.

She is my wife and my heart, and I have zero interest in being filthy or vile with her.

I want to make love to her. Use a quiet voice in her ear while we make a baby. Skate my hands over the soft, delicate parts of her and taste her mouth while I’m sunk deep in her warm, tight channel.

I don’t want to violate or denigrate her.

I don’t judge those that are into mixing sex with kink, or with violence, as long as everyone’s consenting.

But can I force myself to do those things and treat her that way, even if I know that she wants it? If it goes against every single ounce of who I am and what I want–I love her, but I don’t think I can do that.

Where does that leave us?

I can’t wrap my mind around where that leads us.

Sickness sinks its claws deep into my roots, making my feet leaden, my body sluggish.

“Avery.” How did we never discuss this? We planned on trying for children right away.

We were going to stay in this house for ten more years.

She wanted to learn how to make pasta from scratch.

I told her I was going to build a chicken coop.

We never discussed sex, and what we want. I didn’t think we had the type of relationship that needed to discuss it. Every time we made love, I made her come. Most times, multiple times.

She wasn’t faking, either. I scratch the back of my head, unsure what to say.

“Can I ask something?” my dad asks, breaking the stiff tension.

Avery looks up at him, and I wait.

He loosens his tie and moves his suit jacket, draping it over the edge of the bed. That’s something I hadn’t anticipated–my dad in my hotel room on my wedding night, getting comfortable.

“Why did the two of you never discuss this?”

He poses a wonderful question, I’m learning. “I didn’t think we needed to,” I reply, leveling my gaze at Avery. She’s already looking at me, traces of a passive smile on her lips. “I thought we were happy, and that everything in that department was going well.”

Avery rests her head against her hand, elbow propped on her thigh.

“Sutton, making love to you is my favorite thing to do.” She smiles, and it makes me wish I could flip a switch and want everything she wants.

I wish I could want those things. I do. “I love fucking you so much that I just want to find new, exciting ways to do it. That’s all. ”

I’ve never heard her talk that way–vulgar and unfiltered. Even my dad is staring at her, his mouth open just slightly. Her eyes stay on me, seductive and foreboding, causing heat to spill from my pores, slithering over my body. “It’s not boredom?”

Her face falls, shock coloring her expression for just a moment before her lips form a small curve. “Do you remember when I walked in on you? In the bathroom that night? Finishing in the sink?”

I look at my dad, who rightfully and respectfully looks down at his shoes, lips pressed tight.

Embarrassment stalks up my neck and colors my cheeks.

We’d just started dating and we hadn’t been intimate yet.

Normally I have more self control than that but I felt like if I didn’t jerk off into the sink that night, I would’ve had an accident grinding up against her in bed.

I was so turned on, then absolutely mortified when she caught me.

Now? Only moderately embarrassing, considering my dad now knows—along with myself—that I can’t please my wife. I nod. “Yes.”

“That’s what I think about when I masturbate.”

I shake my head, my shoulders and neck burning, head woozy. “Avery.”

“You turn me on, Sutton. Most days we work in the office together, I go home sticky and wet.” She glances at my dad, whose eyes are now lifted from the ground, set on her.

I don’t blame him.

I shake my head. “I feel like I don’t even know you. You don’t talk like this. You’re not… this isn’t you.” Shock colors my vision, and I sink back into the large chair, dizzy, confused.

She moves past my dad and straddles my lap, dragging her hands down the back of my head before linking them at my neck.

“Think about things. Just for a second,” she says calmly.

“You do know me. This is me, and if you think about things just a little more, I think you’ll agree.

” She bends and kisses my ear, and the concerns for my dad being in the room begin to drift.

She drags her nails beneath my collar. “I may be using explicit language tonight, but how many times have you opened the bathroom door after your shower and found me lingering? Saying I was doing laundry or something?”

More times than not, when I think about it, Avery is near the bathroom door after my shower. But I don’t know what it means, so I bring my brows together.

“I am so starved for more of you, I listen to you shower, hoping I hear you touch yourself, jealous of drops of water, jealous of a drain.”

A groan erupts, and I realize it’s me. I look past Avery to my dad, who is now sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes locked on me.

She places her hand against my cheek and forces my face to hers.

My groin grows hot, awareness melting over me.

“I stick my fingers inside myself after we make love, so I can feel your cum.” My body catches invisible fire, but my mind is in a gridlock of confusion as her mouth grazes mine.

“Trust me when I tell you that I’ve been happy.

Because I adore and love you, Sutton. But I want more. ”

I want to give her more. I thought I was going to give her everything. But it’s not me. “Avery, I can’t.”

She doesn’t get a chance to reply, because my dad interrupts. I’m grateful, though, because I have no idea how to solve this. How to fix this. How to fix us .

“Son, come here.”

Avery slides off my lap and into the chair, waiting as I cross the room and sit with my dad. He turns his head toward me, away from Avery, offering what little privacy he can. “What’s the harm in putting a plug in? It doesn’t hurt and if–”

I hold up my hand. “I’m not doing that.”

He bobs his head like he expected that. “I understand that it’s outside the realm of your expectations, but if Avery trusts you enough to share that she wants this, do you think you could trust her enough to just… try it?”

I glance back at the plug, then up at my dad. “I love Avery and I trust her. And she trusts me. This isn’t about trust.”

My dad nods his head, scratches the side of his beard, then pulls at the bottom a little before trying again. “Is it fear of… I don’t know, liking it? Because I can tell you, you would like it.”

“I don’t want to–just—stop, okay?” I pinch the bridge of my nose and think about that time Roberta drank too much at the mixer and puked in the fica tree, because I am not going to think about my dad using a plug.

Dad nods. “I don’t judge you for not being interested in the same things as Avery, and I realize that it’s not as simple as doing what she wants.

And if the roles were reversed, I would not try to convince Avery to adapt to your needs, either.

But I did want to check to see if this is hang-up related somehow or just… you.”

I shake my head. “No hang ups. I simply am not attracted to those acts. That’s all it is.”

The three of us sit in the silence for a few more minutes before Dad says, “I want to help you solve this.”

“What if it’s unsolvable?” Avery asks from the chair in the corner. “I mean, Sutton, you can’t be someone you’re not but… neither can I.”

I can’t lose Avery. I won’t. I’ll figure this out, somehow. “We could take a compatibility quiz,” Avery suggests. “And see if we have any overlap?”

My dad shakes his head and gets to his feet, the only one of us in the room standing. “I can help.”

I look up at my dad. “How?”

He looks between my new wife and myself, and takes a deep breath that both excites and concerns me.

“I can give Avery what she needs. I’m experienced, you both trust me, right?

” he asks, but continues before we can respond.

“You can know with 100% certainty that I’m clean, I’ll be faithful to her while you both need me, and I won’t tell a single soul.

And I won’t get attached because I know why I’m there. Who I’m doing it for.”

My wife, still wearing nothing but a thin robe, gets to her feet, nostrils flaring, tears shining in her eyes. She doesn’t even look at me, but instead locks her vision onto my father. She raises her arm, extends a finger, and points toward the suite doors on the other side of the space. “Get out!”