It depends on Noah.

This has been a slow burn.

Description:

Father in law makes his move while husband is at work.

Tags:

NTR, slow burn, naive husband, naive wife, father in law, daughter in law, jealous, seduction, manipulation, ****

Disclaimer:

For readers 18+. All characters are 18+. This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to real individuals is purely coincidental unless stated otherwise.

Content Warning:

Series explores: Cheating/Cuckolding | **** & Body Betrayal | Pain–Pleasure Dynamics | Power Imbalance & Control

*** *** *** *** ***

Chapter 6

“Noah, come back.” Dr. Samson’s voice followed the clicking of her pen.

The therapist stood in front of Noah, there was more than concern on her face—there was fear for him.

“Yeah sorry, I—just somethings I can’t…seem to get out of my head lately.”

“Noah, I was about to call for help. You were gone. The look on your face, it—wasn’t pleasant.” Dr. Samson shuddered.

“I…don’t know what to say.” Noah wiped his eyes—surprised to find tears.

“Noah, whatever that was, it’s not healthy. You have to talk to me. Or to your wife—” A little exasperated, she sighed. “To someone—just don’t keep whatever this is—in.” She took off her glasses and wiped her eyes with tired fingers. “This is going to eat you alive.”

“I—can’t.” Noah stood up.

“I know, Noah. You have made that clear. But I really hope that you reconsider that.”

“I need to go.” Noah walked out of the office while Dr. Samson could only look on in concern.

And for the rest of the day, Noah couldn’t stop thinking about the past. Even when he finally got home and walked into their bedroom, looking at Ailin didn’t stop his thoughts. She was already asleep—it was just past midnight.

Usually, it was calming to see her. To see she hadn’t succumbed to his unrelenting thoughts. But he couldn’t help but feel it was inevitable.

Up until the last couple of weeks, his bed had been a place where he went to relax. Since then, it was just another reminder.

Two Days Later

“Ailin!” Noah cried out as he opened the door.

At a blazing speed, Noah had sped home after speaking to Dr. Samson again when he got a call from Ailin. All he had heard in the background was Reinhard.

“Don’t act shy now, slut.”

But he was too late—his refusal to work through his trauma was the cause. Now he would reap the consequences.

Inside their own home, Noah heard Ailin’s moans and Reinhard’s grunts—the sounds assaulted Noah’s senses as he looked around the house for them. The kitchen, the living room, the guest bathroom, all empty. Looking at the end of the hall, the two rooms were closed. He sprinted towards them.

The door to Reinhard’s room shattered open behind Noah’s strength, but it was also empty. Except, on the bed were several wet spots and clothes. Denim shorts and a white tank top.

Noah’s heart raced, his stomach turned over. Bile rose in his throat and his head pounded.

Outside, the wind whistled through the gaps in the house as he turned to the master bedroom where he found their door closed. The wood expanded and contracted, breathing. The lock clicked invitingly.

Tentatively, he reached out towards the knob, it was warm and pulsing. It turned without any resistance. It was like it wanted Noah to find what lay behind it. To know what he had wrought upon his own life through his inaction and silence. He thought he was strong—a big strong man who could do anything and everything with enough willpower and strength. Who could handle his own and everyone else’s problems—alone.

But he couldn’t.

The door creaked open and the sounds got louder. But the bed was empty.

Noah turned to the bathroom door—it was ajar. And there was no doubt now that that’s where the noises were coming from.

Noah **** his shaky legs towards the door and he slowly pushed it open. The sounds of sex—rough and unrestrained echoed off the tiles. He could see their blurry figures, their details hidden behind the frosted shower door and the intense steam that filled the room.

Noah reached for the handle and yanked the door open.

*

“Fuck.” Noah muttered under his breath.

Waking up drenched in sweat was starting to be another thing that was normal for him. This was the second night in a row he had this nightmare since he had last seen Dr. Samson.

It was starting to feel—again, that feeling—that word…

Inevitable.

But he couldn’t bring himself to talk to Ailin. How would he explain everything? How could he convince her to stay away from his dad without sounding like a crazy, jealous, and controlling husband? He had already fucked up one relationship that way, he couldn’t repeat that same mistake now with the love of his life.

Would she even believe him?

His eyes went to the angelic figure next to him. Her naked leg hugging her body pillow, her hair half fallen out of its nightly bun. Her strong, toned back exposed to the cold that seeped through the walls at this time of year in the middle of the night.

Grabbing the blanket, he gently raised it over her.

Ailin looked so peaceful, so serene—so perfect. Noah cursed himself for ever thinking that Brooke was better or prettier. This woman in front of him was that and more. He wanted to kiss her—to wake her up and tell her he was an idiot all of last week, but he didn’t.

Noah needed to talk to Dr. Samson—urgently. He would have to meet her after his shift.

He had to fix this.

*

Ailin | Reinhard

Ailin was excited. She was going to finally cook for her father-in-law to repay his kindness—and to really prove herself. She couldn’t lie that she was really looking forward to this. He had taken on somewhat of the role of her mentor—he had even taught her a few recipes. She could think of no better way to show her gratitude than to show him one of hers. Especially since Noah was actively avoiding them.

Despite how annoyed she was with Noah, though, she knew it was because she missed him and just wished he would talk to her. That he would spend time with her—whatever was on his mind, they could fix together. He just needed to trust her with it.

He likely wouldn’t be home for a while, though—he had texted her he had to take care of something before he got home. That usually meant he was staying three to four hours late.

The grocery bags clung to her wrists as she struggled to unlock the door while it rapidly darkened outside—

But it opened from the inside.

“My darling! Let me help you—” Reinhard took some of the bags from her. “Aren’t you cold wearing that?”

Ailin felt self-conscious at that moment—today had been warm enough for a tank top and shorts so she had decided to wear that.

“No, it was sixty-five degrees out. Perfect weather for this.” She smiled, keeping her tone polite.

“If you say so, darling. My old bones get cold even at seventy. What’s on the menu then?” Reinhard led the way to the table and placed the bags there.

Ailin groaned at herself internally, he was just concerned about her, not trying to police her outfit.

“Have you ever had fajitas?”

“Fa-he? Tahs? I can’t say for certain I have.”

“I’m using beef, pero you can use chicken. You slice them, finger size, and—”

“Finger size? What if you’re someone that has huge fingers like me?” Reinhard put his big hand—not as big as it used to be—on Ailin’s.

She looked at it, suddenly very intimidated by it. The size, it was almost bigger than Noah’s, longer yet thinner. It wasn’t the first time she had noticed the similarities between them. When he was younger, he must have looked like Noah’s older brother.

Looking back down, she stuttered, “w-well. More like mine, see?” She lifted her hand up so Reinhard could get a good look at it.

Taking her hand in both of his, he lifted it closer to his face. Using his thumbs, he examined her slender fingers.

Ailin expected his fingers to be dry, but they were nice and soft.

“So these fajitas, they have to be this pretty, too?” There was what looked like a pensive scowl on his face.

Ailin took it as his attempt at a joke and laughed. “You’re too much.” She pulled her hand back down to the grocery bags.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

If Ailin would have been looking at Reinhard—specifically in his eyes—she would have seen the dark flash that accompanied his words. But she was too preoccupied with pulling out the ingredients and organizing them on the table.

“Do you mind if we put music? I always cook with music on.” She pulled out a cutting board.

“I don’t mind, darling. I want to know what you like. Anything I can help with?” Reinhard took a step back.

“Awesome! Thank you! You can sit back and just let me do all the work this time.” Her smile was so innocent, compared to the meaning Reinhard wanted to take from her words, that it made his groin and loins ache with anticipation.

Taking a seat at the head of the table facing the rest of the kitchen, Reinhard watched Ailin work.

“Alexa, play my ‘para cocinar’ playlist on Spotify.” The bajo sexto and the tuba led the song.

“Como te pago, todas las noches—” Ailin sang along as she started to prepare the food.

Reinhard watched her like prey.

She started by roasting the bell peppers and onion halves on the comal—an oval griddle meant to roast tortillas. Not wasting time, she started on three ribeye steaks, cutting them into finger-sized slices—turning the vegetable on the comal so they wouldn’t burn. When she was satisfied with their size, she smothered them with a lime, then tossed them into an iron skillet.

Her mouth watered, already imagining the taste.

Reinhard stared at her shorts hungrily, salivating every time she reached for something and those same shorts rode up higher, giving him a peak of the cheeks he would soon be pounding himself into. Those wide hips were making it hard for him to keep himself from just pouncing on her now. Then she would bend over, facing him, giving him an eyeful of her cleavage.

But what got to him, what truly awakened him, was how similar she was to Madeline. They way she kept having to tuck her hair back when it fell forward. The way she would stick her tongue out when something was being more difficult than she expected.

After about fifteen minutes, it was time to finally remove the vegetables, letting them cool for a minute. Then she sliced them like the fajitas and threw them into the skillet, seasoned the food, and covered the top with a lid.

“Watching you work is like art.” Reinhard stood up and looked into the skillet through the glass lid—grunting his approval.

“Thank you, I really, really love cooking.” Ailin set the butcher knife down and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

This was her art and she felt **** now that she was cooking for someone who she saw as being an equal—a contemporary. The last time she felt like this was when her mother would have her cook for the family in Mexico while she observed Ailin.

Reinhard looked down at her and smiled. His wolfish grin was charming in the right light—and being seen through a gentle lens.

Just then, a song started. It was an oldie that Reinhard and Madeline had danced hundreds of nights together, especially the last year of her life—while she still had the strength to move. Memories flooded his mind as he stared at her reincarnation in front of him.

The words of the song came but they were in Spanish, causing his memories to flicker.

“¡Tu cabeza en mi hombro!”

“This song, my darling—” Reinhard’s eyes were glossed over, he knew Madeline wasn’t standing in front of him, but…there was something there. “It sounds just like Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka.”

Ailin looked up, ready to answer, but she paused for a moment upon seeing the shimmer of his deep blue eyes. There were tears at the corners holding on for dear life.

“It is, it’s the Spanish cover. Are you okay?” She put her hand on his arm.

“This song—it’s…Madeline and I used to dance to it. It was her favorite song growing up…would you—if it’s not too much to ask—would you dance with me? Can you play the original?” He looked down at her.

Her golden brown eyes held sadness—pity—for him.

Ailin couldn’t deny him this.

“Yes, sir. We can dance. Alexa, play Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka.” Her accent was like a siren song to his ears.

Reinhard seemed to get smaller—he seemed so ****. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he placed his own on her waist. They swayed that way for a minute.

“She used to tell me, when she’s gone…I needed to stay strong. I can’t regress to who I used to be before she met me. I don’t think she understood that the only way I could fill the hole she left was by—” He stopped.

If he had said anything more, he would threaten what he had slowly been building towards. It was like he was compelled to be honest. He lightly shook his head.

In due time.

Madeline had been gone a year already but she still held so much power over him.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m right here for you, you don’t have to go through this alone, okai.” Ailin was a genuinely caring person—especially when it came to another’s pain.

Standing idly by as they struggled wasn’t something she was willing to do.

“Thank you.” Reinhard looked into her eyes and smiled.

Ailin felt him shift closer, only an inch or so separated their bodies now. There was an unmistakable warmth radiating from him—not warmth…as he drew closer, it was an intense heat. It caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand.

This was still just a dance—right?

That thought was ominously familiar.

Deep inside of himself, Reinahrd felt a repressed rumbling. The need to kiss her was becoming too strong. So instead—hoping to pacify the quickly reawakening desire he had buried from the moment Madeline had conquered him—he buried his face into Ailin’s naked neck.

But that had been a mistake.

There, his nose met the supple curve of her neck and he inhaled her sweet scent: her thick, blonde hair was coconut milk and her porcelain skin was pineapple cream. She smelled like a dream.

In the background, the song continued, “…words I want to hear, tell me.”

But neither heard the words of the song—not anymore.

Ailin could feel the change in her father-in-law. Goosebumps rose all over her skin. She had let him get too close—trusted him too much.

“S-sir?” she asked.

Ailin was frozen, feeling the unmistakable tongue of her husband’s father lap at her neck while his large hands did their best to envelope her ass—locking her in place. Only her short, denim shorts separated his rough leathery palms from her lush skin.

He kept licking her and was now grinding his groin into her stomach, his hands mashing her strong glutes. Then he bit her neck.

Noah

“Dr. Samson, I—uh—I know I had an appointment in a few days, but this couldn’t wait. I need your help because I need to fix this.”

“What do you mean? Is everything—”

“I’m so fucking stupid—” He looked towards Dr. Samson. “Sorry, Dr. I just—I don’t know what to do. I allowed my father to come stay with us because my sister asked and he’s the one that caused all of this and he really-really messed me up bad—sorry. He really fucked me up—when I was in college, before he got married—FUCK!” Noah hammer fisted the small coffee table as he reached it. “Sorry! But I-I fucked up!” He yelled.

Dr. Samson closed the door behind herself and speed walked to him, her hands hovering over his hulking frame—unsure of whether or not it would be a good idea to reassuringly touch his shoulder at the moment.

“Noah. Slow down…breathe.” Taking her ever present pen out of her blazer, she clicked it twice. “Right here, right now, Noah. Nowhere else.”

Noah sighed—his oversized shoulders shuddered and then settled. The couch groaned as his frame sunk into it. He looked at Dr. Samson and nodded.

“I’m…I’ll be okay. I just need to get this out.”

“Okay…let me know if you are close to…a reaction—again—and we can pause.” She sat down in her chair. “What do you mean, your father caused all this?”

Noah’s leg started to shake and he placed his palm right above his solar plexus—he was trying to steady himself.

“I-I…don’t—” Noah groaned. It wasn’t just painful, it was embarrassing.

That familiar disassociation spread through him, pushing down all the worry, all the panic and fear of what could happen. But then he thought about Ailin—the dreams that he had the last two nights—this one person who had transcended all the connections he had ever made before her…that couldn’t happen…not with her.

She deserved better.

Noah was going to have to face his demons, talk with Ailin about everything—everything—even the uncomfortably personal parts. And then he would finally exercise the devil that had cursed him his whole life.

But he had to finally talk about it, first.

“Okay.” He took a deep breath and steeled himself. “When I was in college…I chose to go to the University of Colorado Colorado Springs. My ma was paying a part of my tuition already, and I couldn’t find a job by a week out from the first semester starting. So—” He looked down at his feet as he rubbed his knees with his hands. “At the time, my father—well, he…was never much of a father—but he lived there—and I figured it would be cheaper. I mean, he was never there for me, really. But, he agreed after some guilt tripping from my grandparents and my ma.”

Dr. Samson took notes, waiting patiently.

“I thought maybe we could finally have a relationship…but everything was…tense. The first two years I was there, we managed to avoid each other outside of some clashes over food and rent—and the nights that he was drunk…” Noah was pensive for a few moments thinking about that. Sometimes he still felt as helpless and weak as he did when he cowered behind his locked bedroom door. “Anyway…junior year. I got a girlfriend. That’s—” He stopped.

The intense involuntary shake of his leg was too strong now—his whole body was trembling and the tapping of his boot filled the room.

Dr. Samson put her pen down and stood up, walking to him to place her hand on his shoulder.

“Just breathe, we can take this as slow as you need.” After Noah nodded his head, she sat back down, picked her notepad and pen back up, but didn’t write. “What was her name?”

“Navi.” Even saying her name outloud made his stomach turn over and his chest ache. Which told him how intense the pain would be if his pride allowed this to happen again with Ailin. “She was a military brat—really pretty. But—”

Noah looked up, there was the door behind Dr. Samson again.

When he didn’t continue after a few seconds, she looked up and noticed he had that thousand yard stare on his face again—restrained panic. Turning around and looking behind herself wouldn’t help, so instead—

Click, click.

“But what, Noah?”

It was difficult for Noah to get out of his own head but his eyes refocused.

“She—Navi…was really insecure. She went through a lot of…bullying. Being half Pakistani and half white isn’t really popular in the military. The other military brats especially—the way she talked about it—she had to switch schools a few times.” Noah stood up and walked to the window to his right—he could no longer take his leg shaking. He peered out through the blinds at the park across the street from the department building. “Colorado was one of the few places where she wasn’t constantly being singled out, so after high school she stayed to attend college while her parents moved away when her father was reassigned.”

“How did you two meet?”

“We had several classes together, being in the same program—starting in junior year. I thought she was pretty, really pretty. I really liked her…she was funny, smart, but usually really shy in big groups. It was in the moments we found ourselves alone that…she really just—I don’t know how else to say it and it probably sounds corny…but—she just kind of shined.”

“What do you think she saw in you that made her come out of her shell with you?”

Noah winced. He knew exactly why.

“Uhm—she…it’s kind of—it’s going to sound…bad, but…I looked just like…all the guys who never accepted her. So…me accepting her, liking her—even—maybe that’s what did it for her. So, I think she liked me because of that.”

“I see…so what happened?”

After counting ten cars as they passed by, he finally continued with a heavy sigh.

“I really wanted to wait until we were married. She…took that as me not wanting her—at all. During midterms I was busy studying. A LOT of studying—I was taking it too seriously, I think.”

“And her, wasn’t she?”

“She was bored—well—maybe not bored…but lonely. I don’t know, but I think lonely is correct. I think being so far from her family and only having me…she started to spend more time at my place, just waiting for me to get home. Reinhard—my father—noticed. That’s how it started.”

“That’s how what started?” Dr. Samson’s tone changed—it was a sound Noah hadn’t heard from her yet—she was worried.

Clearing his throat, Noah finally dug deep to find his words.

“In my third year in college my father manipulated and seduced my girlfriend.”

The words were like a gunshot in Dr. Samson’s mind—the silence that filled the room immediately after was deafening.

Noah just stared out the window, continuing to count cars, there had been nearly forty. He guessed he had probably missed a few, though.

He thought finally saying it outloud was either going to make him feel better or want to crawl under a rock with shame. But instead, it just made him realize how much danger he had put his relationship in. His father was like a predator who had gotten a taste for human blood.

Noah’s part in it the first time had been an honest mistake, but this time his intentional avoidance was directly opening the door for his father to do it again.

Navi on the table kept popping into his mind—only it was in his current home. And with every thrust she changed. Her hair became lighter, her skin paler, her figure fuller. Everything about Navi disappeared until it was Ailin instead.

It was Ailin’s voice pleading for more, moaning Reinhard’s name, succumbing to his touch.

Click click.

Dr. Samson repeated herself, louder this time, “Noah…that’s—this is the man you allowed in your home? He’s there right now?”

Noah just nodded, refusing to look her in the eye lest his shame be reflected back at him through the gaze of another.

“Why?” Dr. Samson could no longer hold her professional demeanor.

This was an officer she held in high regard—one who had proven through his conduct and clean record after that initial incident several years before that he was a respectable officer that had just made an emotional mistake. Dr. Samson had found she did believe in redemption after so many years in this career, partially because of this young officer standing in front of her.

But to be so restrained as to take care of the person who had caused that damage to him—Dr. Samson didn’t know if she was impressed or horrified.

“Noah, why do you let your father do this? Why are you letting him stay in your home?” She stood up and walked to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I understand you feel a sense of duty—I don’t know why—and maybe you feel you need to atone for what you did all those years ago to Brooke’s boss, but you shouldn’t be putting yourself in this situation. AND your wife.”

Noah looked at the slender hand on his shoulder, then at the doctor’s kind eyes behind her reading glasses.

“It’s just me, my sister, and my mom—and my sister asked me to take care of him while she gets his house sold. Obviously, I can’t let my mom have to deal with him again. I has to be me.”

“I get that. I really do. But it's not just you. He has already done this once and you’ve expressed he’s never been a father to you, don’t you think—even if it doesn’t happen the same way—that this will just escalate?” Her eyes were wide with a sense of urgency. “Why not put him in a home? Or—frogive me Noah—but why not just let him end up in a homeless shelter or on the street?”

Noah almost chuckled at that, but the situation was far too sobering.

“This promotion—the raise—would make it easier to put him into a nursing home.”

He didn’t look at Dr. Samson, he had enough respect for her by this point to not hold these sessions against her—it wasn’t her after all that had avoided seeking help in the first place.

“I see.” she sighed. “So if I let Chief Calderon know that you have my approval, what’s stopping you from going home today and kicking that—” She stopped herself from crossing that line, “your father—out?”

Noah turned to look at her, a gleam in his eyes. One she hadn’t seen yet—almost like hope, but it was faint.

“You’re not powerless, Noah. You’re a grown man with resources, a cop for goodness sake! Your father has worked hard to make you feel small, I get that, but—look at you—you’re not small. You’re not powerless. Stop letting him make you feel this way. Your sister having to take him in—until together you are able to afford putting him into a nursing home—isn’t the end of the world. She won’t resent you as long as you are doing your part AND you let her know why. But Noah, your part doesn’t involve putting your wife’s safety on the line.” That made Noah tense. “Don’t let him use her in whatever cruel game he continues to play against you.”

When he didn’t respond, she rephrased her earlier question, “Noah, what’s stopping you from protecting your family from this predator after I approve your promotion?”

Noah had made countless excuses for himself as to why he had never confronted Reinhard. Before it was because Noah was a child, he didn’t know any better and he was powerless. Then it was that he was staying in Reinhard’s house, he shouldn’t be ungrateful. Then it was Ailin telling Noah that Reinhard is family, and they had to invite family to the wedding. Now it was that Amber had asked him to and he couldn’t fail her.

Noah had no doubt Amber would understand him if she only knew what Reinhard had done to him. The problem was he couldn’t bring himself to tell her.

And what if I do? The thought had crossed his mind before, but shame kept it just that, a thought. Now, after letting it out, he didn’t want to crawl into a hole and die from the shame like he thought.

Noah met Dr. Samson’s gaze and shook his head.

“Nothing.”

“Noah, you have to tell your wife.” She looked at the clock. “Tonight.”

Noah followed her gaze and his determination painted his face.

“I think I have to go.”

“I think you do, too.” she urged, her hand shooing him towards the door.

“Thank you.” Noah jogged out of her office, then sprinted to his car once he was outside.

I’m going to fix this.