Page 31 of Right Side of Paradise

Dinner with the Parents

Ms. Yvette grinned across the table at me and Harlow while my dad tapped out a message on his screen.

We were out to dinner, catching up as a “family,” even though they’d been divorced for five years and we weren’t the angsty teenagers they used to bribe anymore.

They still invited us to these dinners from time to time.

And I had a feeling now that Harlow was home for the summer, we’d be getting a lot more of these invites.

Harlow was on my left, spreading butter over the slice of pumpernickel bread on her plate.

My hand was wedged between her crossed legs, and I smirked every time she reached under the table to rest her hand on top of mine.

“I’m so glad you could both make it. I know your schedules can be hectic.” Ms. Yvette was as sweet as her daughter. I always wondered what she saw in my dad. He wasn’t a bad man. Just a different one. Harlow’s mom was soft and warm where my father was cold and severe.

The traits he’d instilled in me as a provider and protector didn’t overshadow the love and patience learned from my granny and stepmother.

I learned how to deal with people by watching them.

And it was still serving me today. There wasn’t a room I couldn’t walk into without making friends or making money.

My dad finally pocketed his phone and smiled coolly at us. “Somebody say hectic schedule?”

Yvette’s face clouded. My dad’s voice was jovial, but I knew his relentless schedule was a sore spot.

It was the reason their marriage ended. As the years went on, he worked more and more.

And now he was over sixty, still filling his days with work like he was in his forties.

Yvette had tried to compromise, traveling with him as much as she could because the time he was in town he spent at his office.

It made sense that she’d gotten tired. It was one of the reasons I put so much effort into designing my home and loved being there, surrounded by people I adored.

Whether he knew it or not, my father had given me a blueprint on what not to do on the home front.

I felt bad for Yvette though. She clearly still loved him. And I knew he loved her in his own way. Just not more than the notoriety and bread that came with his career.

“Harlow, it’s good to see you sitting still in one place.”

Harlow’s lips lifted, her smile subtle. “I missed home.”

My dad’s eyes bounced from me to her.

“Does that mean you’ll be getting a real job?”

Harlow put her knife at the edge of her plate and squared her shoulders. “I’m not sure what you mean. I work.”

My dad threw his head back and chuckled softly. “Oh, come on. You know what I mean. Not that online stuff.”

“That online stuff pays her bills, Brock. Leave her alone.” Yvette’s brow dipped as she looked at her ex-husband.

Eyes on her mom, Harlow’s face softened. “Things have slowed down because I’m taking a break, but I have a good nest egg. You taught me that,” she said, quiet and timid.

I hated that my dad was making her feel like she had to defend her choices. And I hated that even when she was defending herself, she found a way to give him credit for something.

“Harlow knows she doesn’t have to work.” I pulled her legs closer to me, and she let me, unfolding them so my hand could glide higher up her thigh. “I got her forever.”

My dad’s stare turned scrutinizing. Running a hand over his low-cut grey hair, he knocked back his whiskey and said, “So what you gonna do, son? Fund her lifestyle until she gets married?”

Harlow snapped her mouth shut as soon as it fell open. I had my hand settled between her legs, my fingers covering her sex while we stared at our parents with straight faces.

“If I have to,” I rejoined, sounding nonchalant when I knew damn well Harlow wasn’t marrying anybody else. “I got her regardless though.”

Harlow was the only person who used the card I gave her when she wanted money. The PIN was her birthday, and the card had no limit. I got it when we turned twenty-five and my art had finally started making money. My success didn’t mean shit if she wasn’t taken care of too.

She would always get whatever she wanted.

I fingered the seam of her pussy lips through her panties, coughing through a laugh when she grabbed her glass of ice water and gulped.

She was soaked. The heat coming off her pussy made me want to push those thin ass panties to the side and slide my finger inside and not pull out.

Not even a minute later, I was giving in. I lifted Harlow’s leg over mine, so her calf was resting on my knee, granting me the access I craved.

“I guess I raised you right.” A gregarious laugh broke the tension at the table before it could reach the point of discomfort.

Yvette visibly relaxed. Harlow probably would have too. If my fingers hadn’t just pushed past her panties to finger the best pussy I ever had.

I knew it was taking everything for her to hold her body facing them, but she was doing such a good job. And I was going to make her come twice as hard for that.

She kept her gaze on her plate or our parents, never looking at me, but rocking her hips enough to send friction right where she wanted it.

Only I could hear her shaky inhales and the more she made, the harder I got.

The table was big enough to hide most of what we were doing, but if a waiter walked up on me right now…

“Speaking of marriage.” Yvette homed in on Harlow. “I finally have my list narrowed down for your blind dates, sweetie.”

“Blind dates?” My father sounded amused.

I said nothing, but Harlow’s sharp intake of breath said enough when I lazily strummed my finger over her clit.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you; I don’t need to go on dates.”

“Oh.” Yvette raised a perfectly arched brow. “Why not? I thought you were looking forward to them?”

Was she ? I cocked my head and let my gaze linger on Harlow’s profile.

“Yeah, Harlow. Why not?” I cupped her mound, my middle finger coated in her arousal and hovering over her clit.

A few beats passed. Eventually, her throat worked in a hard swallow. “I met someone.”

Yvette gasped loud enough the people two tables down craned their heads to look back at us.

You would have thought somebody just announced their engagement or that they were expecting with the way my stepmother’s eyes lit up.

“Oh! This is great news! Tell me about him, honey.”

Harlow was fighting for her life, and the only reason I gave her a reprieve was because she wasn’t going on those dates. Pulling my hand away from her drenched center, I tugged her panties back in place and rested my hand on the inside of her thigh again.

“Come on, Harlow,” I teased. “Tell us about him.”

I walked in the bathroom behind Harlow, not caring that somebody could have seen me walk in with her. There was only one toilet, so nobody else would be put out by me being in here.

Harlow met my eyes in the mirror when I came to stand behind her.

“Rico, we’re going straight to hell with gasoline draws on.”

Laughing, I bent so my chin could rest on her shoulder while I maintained eye contact in the mirror.

“Why, baby?”

She cut her eyes at me, but the look held no malice. “Because I just let you finger me at the dinner table across from our parents.”

“Hmm,” I hummed, kissing the shell of her ear. “It felt good too, didn’t it?”

Harlow leaned into my touch. “And I just lied to them about the man I’m dating.”

I moved her hair to the side so I could suck her neck. “You didn’t really lie.”

“I told them about you, Soul and Christian without saying your names.” Her voice rose to a cute little squeal at the feel of my lips and tongue hitting her skin.

Sighing, she closed her eyes and grabbed my head, welcoming the kisses like she missed me putting my mark on her. “You know how bad I wanted to kiss you at that table?”

“No.”

I nudged my erection against her ass, loving the way she threw it back on me.

“I’ll be your secret for now, but we have to tell them soon, Harlow. I’m not hiding what we are. Anybody who makes me feel like this deserves to be shown off.”

I sucked her earlobe into my mouth and smirked when she whined.

“You agree, baby?”

“Yes,” she hissed.

“I thought so.” I lifted my head and stared at her through the mirror again. “I want to bend you over this sink and fuck the shit out of you right now. I want to make you cry for me and watch you come on this dick.”

She wined her hips and pushed back on my dick again.

“But I need to get you home first.”

Disappointment dimmed her pretty russet eyes.

“Turn around, Harlow.”

She was facing me before I could finish her name.

My palm traveled over her abdomen, noting the way she shivered from my rough caress. I tweaked her nipple piercing through her dress and watched her pout slide in place.

She didn’t get a chance to beg me for anything because I claimed her lips with mine, tugging and lightly twisting her piercings the whole time.

Her arms wrapped around my torso, pushing her body up against mine.

I needed to stop. If she made me come in my pants I wasn’t going back to that table.

Hell, they were probably already looking for us, but I wasn’t done kissing her yet.

I pulled her nipple ring harder, eliciting a pained moan from her before she kissed me deeper.

“Rico, that feels…”

She didn’t finish.

But she kissed me harder.

Pushed her small frame up against me as close as she could get.

And licked into my mouth with a hunger she didn’t have to explain because I could feel it too.

“Rico, I?—”

Another whimper. Another broken sentence.

“I’m gonna take you home and fuck you right, baby.” I bit her lip. “I’m gonna make you come for me while you choke on Soul’s dick.”

“Ah, fuck,” she panted.

“You want that?” I asked needlessly.

My answer was her kisses growing more urgent.

Sloppier.

Harder.

My hands covered her tits, no longer pulling her piercings but kneading her flesh until she cried into my mouth.

“Rico, that feels?—”

“Feels like what?”

“Like I’m gonna come.”

Oh, shit.

Everybody knew not to stop what you were doing when somebody told you they were about to come. So, I kept my hands where they were and didn’t stop kissing my baby until her teeth sank into my bottom lip and she quivered against me.

She came as quiet as she could with my hand over her mouth. I didn’t move my hand until the last shudders had worked through her.

“F-fuck,” Harlow cried into my torso sometime later. Her chest heaved under my hands and the choppy rhythm of her heart began to mellow out. “I thought that was a myth.”

“What?”

“Coming from kissing and nipple play.” She exhaled and stepped back, creating the first sliver of distance between us since we walked in.

“I need to freshen up.”

“I’ll help you.”

The lines on her forehead tugged my lips up in a grin. “What? I’m the reason you made a mess.”

Defeated but smiling, she turned around and turned the sink on. “Straight to hell,” she mumbled, reminding me of our earlier conversation.

Taking one of the thick towels, I unfolded it, laughing to myself. I was worried about coming in my pants, but I made her come in hers.

Our parents would lose their fucking minds if they knew what we were up to in this bathroom, and that still didn’t make me want to stop.