Tension.

This is going to be a slow burn.

Tensions begin to rise as husband’s father moves in.

Tags: NTR, slow burn, voyeur husband, unfaithful wife, eating out, father in law, jealous, seduction, manipulation, guilt

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 4

“Amor! We are going to be late for the reunion.”

“Oh I forgot about that.” Noah felt groggy.

He hadn’t gotten any sleep whatsoever. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Reinhard’s arrival. But he was having a hard time remembering why Reinhard was coming at all. That thought sat awkwardly in his loins—it slowly crawled up his spine.

The pinpricks of dread caused him to sit up in bed.

“I really need to sleep…” Muttering, he pushed his covers off himself.

“¿Qué amor?” Ailin hadn’t heard him.

Noah looked at her for the first time. She had curled her hair, and it looked shorter for some reason. Then he looked at her dress, it was the same one she had worn to the club.

“That’s what you’re wearing to a family reunion?”

“Ándale, amor. They are probably already waiting for us.” Ailin pulled him out of bed.

They were at the front gate to Reyna and Joe’s ranch.

Noah felt so confused. He was so tired he was losing track of time. Trying to shake the fuzzy feeling from his head, he stumbled, catching himself on the gate.

“Almost everyone is here already, come on, Noah.” Ailin sounded annoyed with him.

Had he done something wrong?

Moooo, the cows bellowed.

Noah didn’t remember there being this many cows, let alone in the front yard.

Ailin walked up the path, completely oblivious to the large animals next to her. She didn’t even seem worried at all about the long horned bulls.

Noah followed.

Several of the bulls kept staring at them as they walked to the door and Noah couldn’t help but feel like he and Ailin were in real danger of getting gored. The bulls huffed and stomped the dirt.

Noah was going to ask his mother why they would keep the bulls in the front yard? Especially now that they were having a reunion. What if Amber’s kids wandered out and earned the ire of the bulls?

As they reached the front door, it opened before they had time to ring the doorbell. Amber stood there, smiling—baby Zach in her arms.

“Ailin! How are you? Come in!” Amber hugged Ailin, leading her inside.

Looking over her shoulder, she acknowledged Noah.

“Hey Noah.”

“Hey…” Since when was Amber so unaffectionate towards him?

“Hey everyone, Ailin is here. She brought Noah…again.”

She brought…me? Noah thought.

“Hey Ailin! We missed you!” Reyna and Joe hugged her, leading her to the dining room where everyone was already seated.

There were only two seats left.

Noah followed them, pulling out the chair to sit next to Ailin.

“Noah, we’ve been over this. That’s not where you sit. You sit here.” Reyna seemed annoyed, as if they had been through this many times.

“But Ailin—”

“Ailin has more important things to do than to be baby-sitting you. She needs a break sometimes. Can you stop being so selfish and just give her what she needs sometimes?” Amber was annoyed with Noah, too.

He looked at Reyna

“Ma?”

“You know where you belong, Noah. You’ve always known.” Reyna never even glanced in his direction, “go sit in your corner.”

All of the sudden, he felt like a kid again. They sat him at a tiny table in a tiny chair, too small for Noah’s bulky frame. The chair groaned with his immense weight and his knees bumped the table, causing it to skid a few inches. The screeching sound grated against Noah’s eardrums and everyone stared at him for a moment.

Noah looked at Ailin, but she looked away, her face growing red with shame while she fidgeted with the wedding band on her finger.

Suddenly, Noah was all too aware of where he stood in his family. It was too close to the corner of the room and the walls touched Noah’s broad shoulders—almost trapping him. He looked up at everyone as they talked to each other. Laughed with each other.

One of the cows bellowed loudly outside, loud enough to startle Noah. Then something huge crashed against the door, causing it to shake on its hinges—and Noah to flinch. But no one seemed to find that horrifying, or even odd.

Amber stood up and went to the door.

“Wait!” Noah tried to stand up to keep her from the danger that awaited, but he found himself rooted to the chair.

Helplessly, he watched as she opened it. He expected the bull to rush in, skewering his beloved sister. Instead, a shadow crept through the door—the light in the room dimmed—or rather, the light in Noah’s corner dimmed.

“Hello, sir!” Amber welcomed Reinhard in.

Wasn’t he supposed to be sick or something? He looked twenty years younger to Noah. He could have been Noah’s older brother.

“I saved you a seat.” Noah looked at the empty seat next to Ailin.

“Amber.” Noah tried to get her attention. “Amber, not there.”

Knowing what he knew about Reinhard, what he had lived through, he didn’t like the idea of the old man being so close to his wife.

But Amber didn’t listen.

“Amber, why don’t we just pull a chair up?” Noah insisted.

Nothing.

“Ma, let’s get a chair. Where are the extras?”

Nothing.

Reyna hugged Reinhard.

“You look great, taking care of yourself lately?”

Noah tried to stand up again, but it was like his clothes were fused to the seat.

“Ailin!” But she didn’t hear him either.

“Hello, sir. How are you?”

Reinhard sat next to her, kissing her on the cheek.

“Better now.” His smile was fiendish.

The room was getting darker and darker every moment—at least, where Noah was sitting. He felt like he was slipping into the shadows, watching everything around him, yet, he could do nothing.

At the bottom of Noah’s vision, he noticed he wasn’t just slipping into the shadows of the corner, but he was becoming a part of them.

A place where he could always watch from—unseen.

“Reinhard!” He tried.

Reinhard looked around, “did you hear something, my dear?” He asked Ailin.

“No, sir.”

Desperation crawled inside of Noah’s stomach, digging into the lining, making him feel nauseous pain. He felt again like he sometimes had as a child—unseen and unheard—always **** to watch as everything happened around him without any power to stop it.

And he felt like the young man twelve years ago, **** to endure the mental and emotional **** of his twisted progenitor.

Noah screamed and screamed, but he no longer had his voice. He was **** to watch as the lives of his loved ones went on without him.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Reinhard looked at Noah.

Everyone else froze around them, the darkness slowly consuming the image.

“You remember, don’t you, Noah? This is who you are, where you belong. In that chair, right there.”

Reinhard stood up and walked to Noah.

“Watching.” The word shook Noah’s vision.

That was when Noah noticed, the light distorted wherever Reinhard walked. He was consuming it. All the light around them was being sucked into the old bastard’s void.

Reinhard came to a stop in front of Noah, smiling wide. His mouth opened bigger and bigger, until his hellish, cavernous maw was all consuming—it was the only thing Noah could see.

And Reinhard’s bellow was the only thing Noah could hear.

He was swallowed into the darkness, leaving behind a silent scream.

*

“AAAHHHH!” Noah roared awake in a cold sweat.

Dread filled his stomach—all he could see was darkness. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, then opened them wide. The darkness slowly morphed from nothingness to shadows, then to objects he was familiar with as his eyes adjusted.

A concerned, angelic face filled his vision—lightly lit by the dim moonglow seeping through the blinds.

“¡Amor! Amor, are you okay?”

Hyperventilating, he looked around. They were in their bedroom.

“Hey, what happened? Are you okay?” She placed her soft hands on his face.

“Yeah, I—just. I think I was having a nightmare…” He looked around the room, suddenly very aware of the darkness surrounding them.

Even with the familiar shapes providing a sense of reality—even with Ailin right in front of him—the empty darkness of the corners of the room tugged at his spine.

“Do you mind if I turn on the TV?”

“Go ahead, amor.” She didn’t let go of his face, though, “what was your dream about? Do you want to talk about it?”

“It was—” He couldn’t bring himself to voice what he had seen.

“It was what? Was it bad?” Ailin waited.

“I don’t— I don’t remember.” He lied.

There was a shift in his eyes, but it was too dark for Ailin to notice.

Still, his voice lacked conviction. That wasn’t out of the ordinary for Noah, but there was more there.

Hmm, she thought, worried.

It was the way she could feel the tension in his face—his teeth clenching, causing his temples to flex. She leaned in, pressing her forehead to his, willing him to feel at ease.

She tried recalling another time when he had awoken like this but couldn’t. It must have been awful. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want to talk about it.

“If you need to talk to me, please do it, okay?”

“Okay, I’m okay. Really.” He couldn’t stop himself from lying.

He found the remote between the covers and turned the TV on.

It illuminated Noah like a spotlight—but it didn’t reach the corners of the room behind the TV.

*

Ailin

Ailin glanced up at the arrivals board. There was another delayed flight. She wouldn’t be surprised if she would have to wait the whole day there. She wished she had worn something more comfortable than these shorts to be sitting on this hard plastic seat for such a long time. The sweat made her feel like her skin was sticking to it.

But the weather was so unpredictable the last few days. One moment, it was forty degrees and freezing outside—then the next it was eighty and she was melting. She had come prepared for either with a coat, at least.

She had been waiting since ten in the morning for Reinhard’s flight to arrive. It was already long past the time she was supposed to leave for her shift that started half an hour before at noon. She was lucky Mr. Victor was such an understanding manager, or else she would have had to be a no-show for her shift thirty minutes ago. Not entirely sure when the flight would be there, she wouldn’t be going in to work today.

But this was more important, so it was okay.

Somewhere in the airport, someone was screaming at the airline service assistants because of the delays as if it was their fault. Ailin hated when people made their impatience everyone else’s problem.

Why couldn’t they just deal with it like an adult?

“So does his dad look like him?” Suki sounded a little sick through the phone but she said she was feeling fine.

“Creo que sí, I mean. I have only met him twice. But, se parecen un chingo, I can definitely see the resemblance.” Ailin could hear the strain in Suki’s voice, though—so why would she lie about that.

“Is he hot?” Of course that’s where Suki took the conversation.

“Suki, why?”

“Ay no te hagas, don’t be like, a santita, all of the sudden.” Suki had probably known Ailin the longest of the group so she knew Ailin wasn’t a saint.

They had met the very first day of college the first time Ailin had gone right out of high school. Suki had some stories to tell—although, Ailin had begged her not to ever bring them up.

She sighed.

“Ay Suki. Fine. I mean— I guess. From what I remember. But hace like…twenty years ago, maybe? Pero he’s old now.”

“But you like the older ones.” Suki laughed.

“Ay Suki. Ya, por favor. Te voy a colgar si sigues.”

Annoyed, Ailin could hear the maddening intake of breath from Suki right before she replied. Even that had a tone of amusement to it, making fun of Ailin.

“¿Qué? You’ve always liked them older. Don’t get mad at me for telling the truth. Remember in college, how Dr. Sim—”

“Suki! ¡Ya!” Ailin didn’t want to think about that.

“And I guess Noah isn’t, like, that much older than you, pero seis años son seis años.”

Ailin buried her face in her right hand, she was done with this conversation.

“Cinco, Suki. No seis.”

The airport’s PA system kicked on, informing everyone the delayed flight—the one carrying Ailin’s father-in-law—had arrived.

Finally, Ailin thought.

“Suki, shut the fuck up.” Ailin had to interrupt Suki’s ramblings, “ya llegó, I have to go. Talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you, send me a picture so I can see—”

Ailin hung up and rolled her eyes. Suki really needed to settle down at some point.

Ailin waited another ten minutes that felt like twenty before she finally saw Reinhard. He looked so different from what she remembered. He had lost a substantial amount of weight and had shrunk a few inches. Before, he was taller than Noah, and about the same build.

Now though, he was a mere shadow of the man he was before. Now, maybe he was the same height as Noah, but more sinewy and lean than bulky. Ailin would even go as far as describing him as un largucho, lanky. And still, he walked straight—his posture was practiced perfection and his gait measured.

He had lost his strength, but he hadn’t lost his presence.

She walked towards him, his name on a big sign:

Mr. Wagner

“Hey there, pretty lady.” His voice boomed.

The sound was deep. Disciplined. It was the commanding resonance honed by the obedience of hundreds over a decade. Reinhard was a former drill sergeant—retired yes, but he carried the title in his soul.

He looked her up and down, scrutinizing her while relishing in her beauty.

Ailin felt her face flush. She was used to that kind of attention—she needed to be with how often she experienced it. But it was one thing to be looked at like a piece of meat by strangers and another for the offender to be her husband’s father.

She wanted to become invisible at that moment.

But Noah mentioned Amber talking about memory problems…maybe that included not recognizing who she was? She had only met him twice for only a few hours altogether. Maybe he didn’t know it was his son’s wife he was violating with his stare.

So it probably wasn’t intentional.

“Se acuer—sorry—do you remember me?” Ailin asked.

She had to remember not to speak much Spanish around Reinhard, he didn’t understand it and she had the sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t like it if she did.

“Of course, I remember you. You’re that pretty lady I met a few years ago. You look even better now, some fine wine.” He grabbed her hand gently and leaned down to kiss it.

That earned a blush from her, making her nervously look around.

“I’m Ailin, Mr. Wagner. Noah’s wife.” She clarified.

“Call me sir, darling. And I know who you are. I will never forget a face like yours.”

Ailin blinked, her polite smile threatening to slip as she was thrown off by the comment—now, she remembered Reinhard was charming, but she didn’t remember feeling awkward about that before. Although, that was back when Madeline had been alive. Maybe that, and Noah being there with her, had provided a buffer.

“You have, how do you say it…a silver-tongue?” She acknowledged.

“Is it working?” He took her arm in his.

She laughed politely but didn’t respond to the comment from the obviously senile old man. Together they walked to get his bags. She could feel him leaning on her slightly.

Maybe he was more fragile than he appeared.

When they reached the baggage claim area, they watched as the conveyor belt rotated.

“How is Noah?” Reinhard asked, his voice lacked interest.

“He is doing great. He’s getting promoted to Lieutenant soon.”

“He’s not in the military is he?”

That was an odd question, did he not know Noah was a cop or did he not remember?

“No, he works for the police department.”

“Hmm.” Reinhard’s disapproval was obvious.

“Which one is yours?” Ailin directed their attention to the bags.

“It's a leather chest, that one.” He pointed, leading them to it.

Ailin tried to get it, but Reinhard tightened his grip on her arm, keeping her at his side.

“I don’t need help.” She could hear the bitterness underneath his sugar coated tongue.

He let go of her arm and walked to the bag. Ailin noticed each step was deliberate. He made sure his feet found purchase before committing to the movement. She saw it all the time at the hospice facility. It was especially present in those who had served in the military—too proud to admit they needed help.

That, and he had more than likely fallen recently—scared to go through that again. She decided to stay close and keep an eye on him when she could.

Ailin felt pity at that moment. Despite whatever Noah’s secret reasons for not having a great relationship with the man were, Reinhard was still a person. She could have her reservations about Reinhard the father, but Reinhard the man was suffering.

The heavy chest caused him to groan as he lifted it, his legs and back flexing to keep him rooted in place—Ailin raised her eyebrows at how much the chest must have weighed. But pride didn’t let him drop it down. With poise and dignity, the chest descended carefully—gently—to the ground. He raised the handle and wheeled it back towards Ailin—she didn’t know what impressed her more, his pride or his need for independence.

“Ready, darling.” He held his arm out expectantly.

Ailin took a second to understand before she finally hooked hers around his and they headed out.

She hadn’t yet gotten a chance to speak to Amber for herself, so Ailin wasn’t sure what she could and couldn’t talk about. Cases like this were pretty touchy, any mention of a trigger would cause confusion and sometimes big reactions would follow.

“How many grandkids do I have waiting for me, then?” Reinhard filled the silence between them.

“Oh, we don’t have any kids, yet.”

“Not trying or is my son shooting blanks?”

Ailin blushed.

“Mr. Wagner—”

“Sir, darling. Call me sir.”

“Oh—Uhm—right. Sir. Don’t—that’s not something we have looked into. But we are trying to have a family. Well, we were, but we have to wait a little bit.”

“Waiting? Why are you waiting? If I were Noah, you would be home with at least two kids to take care of by now.”

Ailin wasn’t sure what she was going to respond but she wasn’t able to get a word in.

“I—”

“Did you know? That was the happiest time we had—when I would come home between tours, or when I had permanent assignments and we could play house. But that all got to be too much for Reyna, she moved on and well—we don’t have to get into that.” He shook his head—was that regret Ailin noticed?

He looked at her and continued.

“If it’s on my account, you don’t need to wait to have kids. I know what couples do when no one is looking, don’t stop just because I’m there.”

“Uh—”

“Or is it because Noah doesn’t want to have any kids?”

“He does it’s just—”

“You want kids and he’s kind of a follower, isn’t he? Just kind of goes along with what everyone else wants? It was always a struggle to get anything worthwhile out of that boy. You know, I have tried, Madeline. I tried to teach him how to be a man, how to be a leader, but all I ever got out of him were tears and complaints. Not surprised he isn’t ready to lead his family…” Reinhard seemed to trail off.

Reinhard noticed the silence and looked at Ailin. They both froze for a moment—then he blinked, his memories clicking back into the right places and he shook his head.

“My name—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, darling. I can’t explain it, I just uh—you look like her quite a bit and well, my mind isn’t what it used to be. Forgive my honest mistake.” He smiled at Ailin.

But she could see the pain behind his smile. It broke her heart. She couldn’t imagine how he felt—the level of authority and credibility he had in his career, the distinction and pride with which he carried himself, the work and dedication it took to attain all he had—only to end up ****, weak, frail even, due to something so out of his control.

All immediately after losing his wife.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. We all have slip ups.”

“Yes we do.”

They reached her Prius and she unlocked it, triggering the latch on the trunk.

“Fancy.” Reinhard grunted.

He was about to lift the trunk up on his own, but Ailin stayed his hand with hers and she smiled at him.

“Let me help.” He looked at her for a moment, “sir.” She quickly added.

*

Reinhard

Memories spun about, in and out of his consciousness, like a carousel. He struggled to control which ones he could focus on, which ones he could willingly recall when they were out of conscious sight, and which ones just fluttered by of their own accord. But there was one he clinged to, the only one he had any control over.

It was Madeline’s face, before the disease had taken her.

“Grab that handle in a firm grip and I’ll take this one.” He commanded.

In her tank top, Reinhard could see so much of Ailin. Her deep cleavage as she bent over to reach for his chest’s handle, the way the muscles on her arm and shoulders bulged slightly as they lifted together. Then he focused on the delicate, blood pumping strain on her neck when she realized how heavy the chest was but didn’t give up. Her neck had seemed so delicate only a few moments ago—so fragile. But Reinhard realized now he had been mistaken, it was strong.

He had been mistaken about Ailin as a whole, as well. The crafted image he had of the young couple that looked so much like he and Madeline had all those years ago, blurred. They were now imposing on each other.

This woman was just as strong as Madeline. Her physicality, at least. But Reinhard hoped her soul was as well. Strong souls were the best to—.

Together, they set the chest into the trunk of her car.

Ailin had to **** it in a little because it was nearly too big to settle inside. Reinhard took a step back, admiring how her small shorts rode up, exposing an inch or two of her large glutes. Even her hips and legs were wide—no, not just wide—thick with muscle.

Reinhard groaned inwardly—her strength making his chest tighten.

*

Ailin

“Hopefully we don’t struggle getting it out. It’s a tight fit.” She stood up and looked at Reinhard, hoping he wasn’t displeased with that.

“Don’t worry about that, darling. I’m used to struggling with tight fits—carrying this around.” He eyed Ailin—then gestured to his luggage chest—his face neutral, impossible to read.

Senile minds often did and said things that were out of character. Problem was, she didn’t know Reinhard’s character…but Amber had said he wasn’t right anymore, right? So he must be senile.

Ailin decided she was just misinterpreting things—and that wasn’t fair to her father-in-law.

“Let me get your door.” She started to walk past him but he stopped her by hooking his arm through hers again.

“No ma’am. I’ve never let a beautiful woman open my door, and I don’t plan on starting now, with you.”

Forcing them to walk to the driver’s side, he opened Ailin’s door—ushering her in. Not moving away from the door even after she had sat down in the seat, she looked up at him, confused. But he looked down at her legs that were still sticking out of the car.

“Oh.” The sound came out more like an apologetic reflex than an actual response—and she turned in her seat.

The expectation was that he would close the door for her at this point, but the old man surprised her. He reached in, grabbing her seatbelt.

Ailin tensed as she followed his hand—she could swear he was being deliberately slow as he reached across her with the seatbelt. Her mind chose to focus on how it grazed her chest, the belt settling between her breasts.

Click, the sound triggered a shaky exhale from Ailin.

Then she looked back up to Reinhard. He lingered there, looking down at her expectantly.

“Uh…thank you, Mr.—”

“Sir, darling. Don’t make me repeat myself again.” That caused a cold chill to run up her spine.

There was no malice in his voice, but Ailin couldn’t help but feel like she should be worried about the consequences of making him have to tell her to call him sir again. She wondered what the punishment would even be.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” She replied stiffly.

He patted her head and smiled fatherly.

“Good girl.”

Before she could protest—before she could even think to—Reinhard closed the door. Her eyebrows furrowed and raised.

What the fuck was that? But she didn’t know him well enough to understand him or to even feel comfortable calling him out—he was Noah’s father after all.

She was walking up to the line where her politeness ended, and her need to react—to not let a man do these things to her—began. Yet, he was older, from a different time. And this initial meeting would set the tone for their entire relationship, at least for the next five months…

It’s only for five months…that thought refilled her patience—slightly.

But there was something else there.

Good girl, she repeated in her head.

Why did that feel like…was it praise? It didn’t seem like he gave that much. But that wasn’t the only thing—it felt like a reward. She had done something he appreciated.

Still confused, her exhale was followed by the passenger door opening.

“Let’s get going darling. I want to see what kind of house my son has made you settle for.”

That hit a nerve Ailin hadn’t thought about in a while.

*

Noah

Noah kept looking at his watch. Time felt like it was dragging, taking its sweet self no matter how much he wanted it to speed up. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ailin alone with Reinhard. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Just like Navi—

Shut the fuck up, he silenced his thoughts.

He couldn’t worry about that, he was at work right now—Sergeant Wagner, soon to be Lieutenant.

The radio crackled.

“Dispatch, Officer Lolo Smith, requesting a supervisor to my twenty. Uh—Clover and Cullen—outside of the O’Reilly’s.”

Noah didn’t initially register the call or that he was even a supervisor right now, his mind was too clouded by thoughts of home.

What were Ailin and Reinhard talking about? What was he trying to do? Was she falling for it?

“Copy, Officer Smith. Stand by for a supervisor.”

Noa—Wagner blinked. He was only a couple of minutes out, he should be the one responding. There was a Subway across the street there that Wagner visited once every couple of months when he forgot to pack a lunch.

“Attempting to locate Sergeant Wagner.”

The static crackle of the radio grounded Wagner and he **** his mind to settle. He was at work—not at home. Didn’t he trust his wife to handle herself?

He did. He had to.

Wagner picked up the radio and cleared his throat.

“Wagner here. Smith—10-76 to your twenty. All good?”

“Positive, Sarge. Just a noncompliant requesting a supervisor. Another sovereign.”

Wagner groaned off-radio.

Fuck, not one of those…Wagner butted his head on the steering wheel.

Why did he have to be the closest?

The silence reminded him he needed to acknowledge.

“10-4.”

*

Ailin

“Hmm.” Reinhard grunted.

Ailin couldn’t tell if that was in approval or not. It made her uneasy to think he was displeased with their house. It just reaffirmed her insecurities about it. She had hoped to sell this one and buy a new one sooner rather than later.

“The house is small. Not fit for a family. I’m starting to think he really doesn’t want one.” Reinhard’s voice was far too strong for his private monologuing under his breath not to be heard.

His words were like a knife to her heart. She already had those doubts, she didn’t need them voiced by her husband’s father, of all people. She pushed that thought deep—deep down.

“We were thinking about selling it—or at least—I want to sell it.” Doubt crept into her voice.

“Good, whatever you get out of this, especially in this neighborhood, you’ll be able to use for a better house. If I were Noah, I would have never **** you to have to live here in the first place.” Reinhard looked at the few neighbors on the street that were out and about and grunted.

Steadily, he walked to the trunk and waited for her to open it.

Ailin’s mind was hyper-focused on the house. In moments like this, she could see every flaw. The roof was getting close to needing to be replaced. They also needed to replace one of the windows the neighborhood kids had hit a baseball into over winter break. And the holes inside.

Fuck.

“Darling, be a dear and open the trunk for me.”

“Yes, sorry—sir.” She quickly added, hitting the button on the remote.

He reached into the trunk and pulled the chest out. Ailin saw him strain as she reached him and he was at least able to get it past the tightest part. Together, they lifted it out.

Remembering his earlier comment, she asked.

“What’s wrong with the neighborhood?”

“Your husband is supposedly a cop, if he was good at his job—or aware—he would have never bought this house. Some of your neighbors…seem untrustworthy. And he couldn’t have found a cul-de-sac?”

Ailin watched as a few cars passed in front of their house. That was something she never really thought about—the traffic that went by.

“A man’s house is supposed to be his castle, his fortress. This,” he gestured to the house, “is ****. He leaves you **** every time he leaves you alone. Show me the inside, darling.”

Ailin wondered what could possibly happen for Reinhard to think she was **** here. She never felt more safe anywhere else but here. Should she not feel that way?

Dutifully, Ailin led the way. She unlocked the door and they walked inside. Quickly, she hung her coat on the hanger to keep the hole underneath out of sight.

Reinhard followed her into the kitchen.

Another grunt came from the old man and he left his rolling chest near the doorway of the foyer.

“Padron me, my dear.” He moved past her, applying pressure to her arm.

“Oh, sorry.” She moved for him to pass.

She couldn’t read his expression as he looked at every inch of the kitchen—her kitchen.

Checking for dust, he ran his finger along the top of the counter—then looked at it. He grunted. It was subtle, but Ailin was starting to be able to tell which grunts were approving or not. He walked to the table and checked its balance.

A grunt of approval.

Ailin nervously rubbed her hands together.

The refrigerator was next. He opened the door and looked inside. Ailin shifted nervously, understanding how all the meal replacers and protein shakes looked on the door to the old man. He picked one up and turned it in his hand—looking at her questioningly.

Grunt of disapproval.

“Do you two eat real food? Who drinks this?” Reinhard’s voice was loud inside the house, reverberating off the tile floor.

“We do and Noah does bu—”

“Of course he does.” Reinhard put it back into the fridge, then closed the door—causing everything inside to rattle.

“I drink them sometimes, too.” She tried to defend her husband, but Reinhard waved her off.

He looked at the pans and pots hanging above the table.

“These are great…don’t tell me they are Noah’s, too.”

“No, those are mine.”

“Quality, very nice. A woman of good taste. These are in the same fashion as those I used to make meals with on long assignments.”

“You know how to season them?”

“Do I know how to season them? Ha! Of course I do.”

Ailin smiled. These are the pans Maria had sent her from Mexico, the same kind they used to cook with before Ailin was brought across the border by her father.

“Do you still cook?” She asked.

“Sometimes. I still know my way around the kitchen, but, I must confess. I am not what I used to be. Still better than most, but not half the man I was before.”

He noticed the disappointment on her face and cleared his throat.

“But for you, I would.”

Ailin didn’t just love to cook. Cooking was her way of resetting here—alone.

But cooking with her mother? That had been an entirely different experience. It was like dancing. It was enjoyable alone, but so much better with someone who knew what they were doing. One led and the other followed. If either misstepped, toes were crushed. But when both were skilled and understood their roles, it was magic.

“I would appreciate that Mr. Wa—sorry—sir.” She had to get used to that.

“Overall, I would say it’s a nice kitchen. I assume you cook then?”

“Thank you, sir. Yes, I cook, for the most part. Noah works long hours most of the time. Besides, I would never let him near the food before it’s finished.”

Reinhard smiled at her—his intimidating scowl disappearing.

“I know exactly how that is!” He chuckled. “But if you’re cooking, I look forward to the food, then. Seems that boy hasn’t learned how to cook since he lived with me. Little bastard would always overcook those damn steaks, hard fry the eggs, and even burn the cereal, can you believe that?”

Ailin stifled a laugh.

“No,” her accent bled through, “I can’t believe it!” Her eyes dilated as she realized her slip.

And Reinhard grunted—approval.

For the first time, Ailin’s shoulders relaxed and she stopped rubbing her hands absentmindedly. Maybe she had misread Reinhard initially—she didn’t need to have her walls up so high. Noah seemed to have Reinhard all wrong. The old man was just that, an old man—lonely, sad, charismatically charming in his own way…and human. He had his flaws, but who didn’t?

Sure, maybe some of his comments were inappropriate and he seemed to lack a modern filter—but Ailin hadn’t sensed any cruelty in his voice. The unease she felt could just be the friction that came up when different generations rubbed against each other. But those things weren’t malicious—at least the ones Reinhard had brought up didn’t seem to be.

It was just like when Ailin would ignore her dad asking her why she wanted to work when she had a perfectly capable husband and a good home to take care of. He just didn’t understand that that was a demeaning and sexist thing to say.

And Ailin didn’t need to challenge everything—why stress herself out with that? She knew she didn’t agree and that’s what mattered to her, so no need to get upset with someone she needed to spend time with.

“I used to try so much with that boy. I would tell him, ‘leave the steak just enough time to sear, pink in the middle is good.’ Nothing. Thank god he got my looks because lord knows he didn’t get my brains—”

The guffaw from Ailin surprised them both and she covered her mouth in surprise—making Reinhard smile.

“That was loud! I’m so sorry!”

“I don’t mind it, sounds just like Madeline’s laugh.” Ailin’s smiled dropped—replaced by an awkward frown.

Ailin wanted to say something to that, but Reinhard didn’t want to dwell on it—so he continued.

“He means well, I’ll give him that. Even when he doesn’t put his damn clothes in the hamper the way it’s supposed to be. Little shit.”

Ailin scoffed.

“He still does that!”

Reinhard chuckled and shook his head, “of course he does.”

Finally, someone understood her.

After a few moments of silence. Reinhard cleared his throat.

“You know, when I would be in the kitchen, and Madeline would come in, I had to make her leave. That woman would always ruin the food if I wasn’t on alert. But I sense you will be an asset to me in the kitchen. Although, I would like to experience being served good food for once instead of making it.” He smiled at her.

Ailin aimed to please.

“I can make something for dinner—tonight—after I finish my homework.”

“Wonderful, I look forward to it. But I am parched. Darling, be a dear and grab me a glass of cold water. Ice if you have it.” He sat down at the head of the table.

Ailin thought to let him know that was Noah’s seat, but if Noah wasn’t there, what did it matter?

“O lo sie—I’m sorry. How rude of me. I forgot to offer you water.” She moved quickly, with practice.

Reinhard watched her, she never paused to think where something could be. This was truly her kitchen. And he couldn’t wait to share it with her.

“You have beautiful hair, how long have you been growing it?”

“Thank you! Well, the last time I cut it was when I was twenty, so six years ago? I usually just upkeep.”

“I told Madeline to straighten her’s so many times, but that woman was stubborn as a mule. Kicked like one, too, if she didn’t like something you said—but I always thought women with long, straight hair were so beautiful. Looking at you, it turns out I was right.”

Ailin blushed as she set the glass of water in front of him. But he didn’t turn to it, his eyes lingered on her. He studied her face and reached up.

“It’s almost like I can see her in you. What she could have been if she hadn’t—” He stopped mid sentence and blinked, taking in a deep breath.

He audibly swallowed the lump in his throat.

Ailin could see the deep hurt—he still mourned his wife. A whole year had passed, and the pain lingered. It made Ailin think about the conversation she had had with Noah just a week ago. She couldn’t even imagine how much it would hurt to lose him…

“Can I?” He asked.

“Sir?” Concern colored her face.

“Can I touch your face? I—I want to see—maybe—maybe it will feel like I am touching her face again.”

There was hope in his eyes, but it was guarded, like he expected Ailin to reject his request. But it was a simple touch. How could she deny a broken widower something so small.

“Yes, you can.” She leaned down.

Reinhard reached slowly, lifting his hand. Ailin watched it the entire time, more concerned about Reinhard than weary about letting a man touch her.

When his hand finally reached her cheek—she shakily exhaled, it was nothing like she expected. She expected the rough, callous touch of a military man who had never known intimacy, only **** and war. But instead, she found patience, tentativeness, vulnerability.

There was an undeniable shake—was it his condition or was he nervous?

His hand rubbed her cheek and she closed her eyes. It felt nice—soothing. She felt him shift closer and then he turned his hand, letting his knuckles trace her jaw and to her other cheek. His knuckles felt restrained, as if he was holding back. Then he let his hand travel down.

“Gorgeous. Just amazing…you feel just like her.” She heard him say.

The back of his hand carefully navigated her neck, then turned and she felt his fingers on the right side of her throat.

And before she could protest they were gone.

Her eyes fluttered open and Reinhard was looking up at her, smiling.

But the smile was a little different than before. She couldn’t quite place it.

*

Reinhard

Madeline and Ailin seemed to merge and separate in Reinhard’s mind. Curly hair became straight and then curly, cycling over again and again.

“Yes, you can.” Her voice was so sweet—her accent was softened just for him.

It took Reinhard’s entire being not to stare at her tits when she leaned forward to give him easier access to her face. He had been anticipating looking at them since he had seen her at the airport—brought back from the dead.

Madailin’s eyes focused on his hand—they matched the nervous anticipation in his chest. When he finally touched her, she exhaled. The way she trembled—that shaky breath was so familiar to Reinhard.

He could feel his heartbeat in his head, he could hear it pounding in his ears, his vision flittered with it.

Reinhard. The real one—the one he had buried along with his wife—stirred.

He really wanted to truly touch her—hard—the way he used to. Make her feel his strength—that despite his age and condition, he still had the power she loved—but he held back. It had been a long time since he touched Madailin—he didn’t want to scare her away. What if she had forgotten his touch? He couldn’t lose her again. She had been the only one who understood him—who truly saw him. Everything about him, she had accepted—everything.

For the first time, he realized his hand was shaking.

Could that be—my nerves or this fucking condition?

Reinhard struggled to answer that question.

Hands still caressing her face, his eyes snapped to her breasts when she closed hers. Madeilin’s breasts were bigger than he remembered. The tank top hid the best parts, but the way they slightly spilled over the top of the barely visible nude colored bra, Reinhard’s eyes seared with want.

He followed every beauty mark that decorated her chest, memorizing this new pattern—another difference that threatened Reinhard’s optimal reality.

Madelin had deaged about ten or fifteen years. And there was no hint of the wasted body he had last seen before she closed her eyes for the final time over a year ago.

Or maybe grief distorted his memory. This is who she always was—how she always looked. Wasn’t it?

The memory and his vision flickered. But his mind was stubborn—dedicated to what he wanted to see. This was Madeline, his Madeline. It had to be.

And yet, he knew better.

“Gorgeous. Just amazing.” His memory ultimately corrected itself and Madeline began to fade, “you feel just like her.”

He explored her neck—it was that same strength he had noticed earlier, hidden inside. Just waiting to be tested—and he wanted to be the one who tested it. But this wasn't his wife. Not right now, anyway.

And just like that, reality finally won—and Madeline receded into his memories where she still lived. Ailin stood before him and his hand recoiled.

But the feeling inside him remained and he couldn’t suppress the smile that manifested. His perfect, white teeth—slightly large for his mouth—gleamed.

*

Ailin

Ailin cleared her throat and stood back up. She had the urge to wipe her cheek—not because she felt grossed out, but because she had been pleasantly surprised.

“Thank you for that, my darling. For a moment, I almost believed she was here with me.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could help you more, but I don’t know how.”

“I’ll be fine. And I’m sure we’ll come up with something.” He reached for the glass of water and took a long drink.

“Ahh. That’s refreshing. If your water is anything to go by, that food is going to be unrivaled.”

“I just poured it ha.” Ailin laughed.

“That reminds me of a Noah story. He was probably thirteen. His mom and I were still together before she—well that’s not important. That boy thought himself a food scientist. He had put some crackers into the microwave with some mozzarella cheese—called it ‘crackles’—ridiculous boy. Thought he had revolutionized crackers! Can you believe that! Re—I had to let him down easy. Introduced the poor boy to Cheez-Its later that day.”

Ailin laughed heartily, genuinely. It was a beautiful sound to men like Reinhard.

“Hasn’t he ever told you any stories from when he was younger?”

“No, he really doesn’t talk much about his childhood. Actually, he doesn’t talk much about anything before he graduated college.”

“Oh boy, the stories I could tell about that boy…”

“I would love to hear them!” Ailin was dying to find more about Noah.

Why did Noah dislike this man so much that he never spoke about him? He had been wonderful so far.

“I’m getting a little tired, my darling. Show me my room and we can talk there, I’ll tell you about the time I caught him…” Reinhard smiled and pointed down at his waistline.

Ailin’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“No!”

He nodded, an uncharacteristically awkward smile masked his face as they walked to Reinhard’s room, arms hooked together—Ailin’s laughter filled the home.

“Yes, and more than once. Oh god, I had to keep Amber’s barbies hidden in…”

*

Noah

Wagner shifted off the safety locks on the leg press. He had never attempted this much weight before—seven plates…about six hundred and sixty pounds. If these were squats, Wagner wouldn’t be able to do it, but something about the machine, the angle the weight was being pushed at, it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

And still, it was a lot of weight.

The idea was if Wagner could move this much weight, then he could deal with the weight of these thoughts right now.

He trusted Ailin. She was smart, she could read a room better than anyone else. Strong, stubborn—she could hold her own.

But Wagner knew Reinhard. He knew first hand who that man was. No one else but him knew what he was capable of.

Ailin wasn’t Navi, though. Ailin was a grown woman, not a sophomore in college—naive and with dozens of insecurities. He didn’t have anything to worry about…

“Is this some sort of weird, modern endurance training I’ve never heard of?”

Chief Calderon was in his workout gear, looking down at Wagner.

“Ha. No, sir. I uh—just got a lot on my mind.”

“Well, son. You got a lot on your legs right now, so I’d focus on that first.”

“Yes, sir. You’re right.”

Wagner’s knees nearly touched his chest, then he lifted the weight. At the end he liked to extend his calves—one.

“Not bad, son. Keep at it, and you’ll get to half the weight I press.” Calderon’s toothy smile disarmed Wagner.

Wagner didn’t know whether to laugh or be in awe. The look on his face caused Calderon to chuckle.

“You can laugh, son. That was a joke. I can barely push four-fifty these days.”

Wagner smiled, finally. That same awkward smile.

“Sigh.” Calderon shook his head, “carry on, son. And be ready for the last interview.” He walked away to the locker room.

And with that, the safety blanket that had covered Wagner lifted. Intrusive thoughts rushed back in. All thoughts that he really didn’t want to acknowledge or even consider. But they gnawed at him, screaming for attention.

Amber had said Reinhard was sick. Some cognitive disease…maybe Wagner really didn’t have anything to worry about.

With that thought, he turned the volume up on his headset.

“...you depend on our protection yet you feed us lies from…”

Two.

He pushed the weight—and his thoughts—away. Wagner was safe here. There were processes, procedures, policies. Here, he didn’t have to be—

*

Noah could have used an emotional lift right now after the day he’d had—his thoughts, that fucking sovereign. But as he pulled in front of the house, no one waited for him.

There was still light outside—yet no Ailin.

“Ah fuck.” He tapped the steering wheel with his forehead in frustration.

The sweat from the gym was still clinging onto him—his clothes, his hair, down the ridge of his back. He wiped his hands on his gym shorts and looked up. The tendrils under his stomach uncoiled in preparation. Ailin was alone with Reinhard inside. Noah’s heart started to pump faster, far faster than it ever did at the gym anymore.

But Ailin wasn’t Navi.

Noah could trust her…right?

Grabbing his gym bag, he opened the door a little too hard, slamming it as he speed walked towards the front door. Key after key, he couldn’t open the door—he always struggled with those damn keys.

Maybe he didn’t want to go inside.

Where the fuck did that come from? Of course Noah wanted to be home with his wife.

Click, finally he heard it unlock.

His hands dropped to his side as he paused, breathing in deeply for a few seconds, then exhaling. He repeated it a couple more times until he felt his heart rate drop a little. With a calmer mind, he put his hand on the doorknob.

Fighting his every instinct to move quickly, he turned the knob slowly. He didn’t want to make a noise. If he made a noise, it would disturb the peace of the house, and he wanted to keep the peace.

Why does it matter? He asked himself.

What did he expect?

You know why…he reminded himself.

He walked into the kitchen—nothing. There was a glass of water on the table. But outside of that?

Nothing.

“Baby doll?” He almost whispered.

Nothing.

He walked towards the living room and finally heard the voices. It sounded like two long lost friends, catching up. Laughing enough to make up for all the missed time.

He started to breathe hard as he walked down the hall, creeping towards the bedrooms at the end. The tendrils slid around his stomach, the tiny spikes on their side digging in as they squeezed. He felt like his heart was in his throat, he couldn’t swallow.

Reinhard’s voice was hushed, as if he was trusting her with the most precious of his secrets. Every few seconds, Ailin’s laugh cut through Noah. Her laughter wasn’t ****, it was heartfelt. Given willingly.

The door was closed. Noah was only a few steps from the study—Reinhard’s room—imagining them inside. Reinhard sat next to Ailin, his arm around her, whispering into her ear, his military mustache tickling her ear with how close he was. His strong arm held Ailin, and she leaned into it. Her hand on his chest, broader than Noah’s. Decades of building that strength, something Noah had never been able to compete with despite all the time he spent at the gym.

He imagined himself opening the door, Reinhard standing up, towering over him. Telling him to fuck off and let him and Ailin get to know each other.

Just like it had happened with Navi.

*

Noah rushed home in his mom’s old beat up Honda Civic.

She had given it to him now that he was in college. It’s a shame he had chosen to go to Colorado Colorado Springs College for his criminal justice degree, but that was the closest college to anyone he knew that he could stay with.

The only catch was that someone was his estranged father, Reinhard.

As he had gotten out of class, he had seen the texts that were waiting for him.

Navi: If you’re not going to talk to me during midterms, can you at least respond to my texts? I left my chem book at your house.

Navi: Are you in class?

Navi: I’m heading over.

Navi: You didn’t want me to meet your dad because you said he was a piece of shit. He’s literally not…

Navi: Are you ashamed of us?

Navi: Of me?

There were no more texts for the last forty minutes.

Her insecurities had been a sore spot between them. She was a military brat whose parents had met overseas—Pakistani-American—so she was used to being targeted because of that. The amount of racist jerks she had grown up around had deeply affected her.

Reyna’s words echoed in Noah’s head as he turned onto their street and saw Navi’s car.

“Just be careful, he has a way of warming people up before he takes what he wants. Never let your guard down around him.”

Noah parked the car on the sidewalk and practically jumped out of it—running towards the door. Luckily for him, it was unlocked.

“Navi!” He yelled.

But he wouldn’t have heard the answer even if there were one—his pounding heart was too loud. He walked towards Reinhard’s room and found it empty, his heart settling just enough for him to hear Navi’s rich laughter coming from his room.

He found them sitting on his bed, Reinhard’s photo album from his tours on Navi’s lap, his arm around her.

“You look just like some of the locals there. I’m telling you, those women were so pretty, so exotic. And look at you, you got the best of both worlds—that beauty but in a free country.”

Navi blushed.

Every older, military white man she had met up until now had looked down at her. She had heard what they called her for having a Pakistani father and a white American mother—she hated that slur.

Reinhard was different. He wasn’t an asshole like them—or even like Noah had warned.

“What are you doing?” Noah was red faced and overwhelmed—hurt.

He didn’t know why yet, but he felt betrayed.

Reinhard hadn’t pulled his arm away quickly, wanting to avoid Noah misjudging the situation—no, he did it slowly. Deliberately. He made Navi feel every inch of his muscular arm against the back of her neck as he slid it off her.

When he stood up, Noah took a step back. Reinhard walked towards him and smiled, but there was no love beneath it.

“What’s wrong son?”

“Don’t call me that, what are you doing with her?” Noah balled his fists.

Navi’s eyes went wide and she stood up.

“What’s wrong with you? What are you thinking is even happening you weirdo—”

Reinhard put his hand up, silencing her.

“We’re just getting to know each other, son. Why don't you want her to meet your family? What, you don’t see a future with her? Or are you ashamed of her?”

He looked back at Navi and held his hand out to her. She hesitated, looking at Noah—his silence pushed her. She took Reinhard’s hand and he pulled her under his arm.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, son. She’s gorgeous. I approve. I’m just trying to get to know who she is, what her intentions are with you.”

Reinhard leaned in and pressed his lips to Noah’s ear and breathed just below a whisper.

“So, why don’t you fuck off.”

*

Noah shook his head, punching his temples with his fist.

C’mon dude! Stop being a pussy and just open the door! He reached for the handle and inhaled.

He opened it quickly, not giving them even a split second to adjust.

But they didn’t need to.

Ailin was sitting on the computer chair Noah had left in there. She looked as beautiful as ever. Her long blonde hair was put up into a bun to beat the unnaturally hot weather for this time of year. There was a thin coat of sweat making her glisten as she fanned herself with her hand.

“Hola, amor.” Her beautiful, tired face turned to greet him.

“Hey, baby.” Noah said awkwardly.

“You okay?” Ailin’s face had a hint of concern as she looked up at him.

“I—“

“Son.” Reinhard stood up—grunting—and held his hand out for Noah to shake.

Noah hadn’t noticed him, which was a first. Reinhard had always been the most imposing figure in any room, attention was sucked in his direction always, but this wasn’t him. This wasn’t Reinhard.

Noah’s mind struggled to reconcile who he remembered as Reinhard—the monster he expected—and this frail, old man that stood before him.

Noah looked down at his father’s hand. He could feel Ailin’s furrowed eyebrows and confused eyes beginning to glare at him. But he was frozen.

How could this be the monster he had feared his whole life? This was a ghost—a ghost that had been haunting him for a decade. No—over two decades.

This was who he always had nightmares about?

Noah looked at Ailin, who raised her eyebrows at him. Then those eyes focused on his hand, urging him on.

Noah looked at Reinhard. The old bastard’s eyes were still hard, emotionless. But there was more there. Weakness? Could be…but Noah wasn’t really sure. Whatever it was, Noah could finally see the human behind the monster’s image of his father that he held in his mind.

With a cautious grunt, he shook Reinhard’s hand.

“Reinhard. My condolences, again. Madeline was a wonderful woman. A shame she was taken so young.”

There it was, the shift behind Reinhard’s eyes. That hint of humanity.

Tears? Noah felt like someone had kicked him in the testicles.

Reinhard’s eyebrows furrowed and he blinked—the tears disappeared.

“Thank you, son…she always liked you, you know? Till her last days, she lamented that we didn't spend more time together as a family.”

Noah's face twisted for a moment. He tried to hide it, but he wasn’t fast enough. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the look Ailin gave him.

“I hope the room is to your liking, Reinhard.”

“It has been. Thank you, son.”

Noah turned to leave, but the movement from Reinhard stopped him.

The old man had taken a quick, careful step towards Noah.

“I—well…I wanted to—say that—uh…" Reinhard looked at Ailin, and she nodded at him. “Well, I want also feel the same way Madeline did. And uh—I used to love when you called me dad.”

Reinhard looked at Ailin for approval.

Noah didn’t like that look they shared. They had plotted together. Besides, he hadn’t called Reinhard that in over two decades…especially not after Navi. Was his mental regression progressing that fast?

“Alright well, I’m going to eat some dinner. Excuse me.” Noah turned on his heels and left the room.

*

Ailin

Ailin looked at Reinhard, her eyebrows scrunched up—she was confused.

Reinhard shrugged and his face looked tired and old—resigned.

Why was Noah being like that? She knew there was history, but since he hadn’t told her anything, she didn’t really know what that history was.

“I told you he hated me. Reyna really did a number on him when she took him away from me.”

“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I don’t know anything about anything. He never tells me anything!” Hot tears welled in her eyes, making the golden brown of her irises shimmer.

“Oh my darling, don’t worry about it. I’m used to his cold shoulder, been that way for a long time.”

Reinhard put his right hand on her bare shoulder and squeezed.

Ailin started to rub her hands together, annoyance growing in her chest at Noah’s dismissal of his own father. Surely their past wasn’t bad enough for him to act like this.

“I’ll talk to him—”

“Darling,” he grabbed her hands reassuringly with his left, keeping her from rubbing them together, “it’s okay. It really is. He probably hates me if Reyna got her way. Maybe I am just that bad of a father, I don’t know. This isn’t your fight, though.”

“Don’t say that, sir.” Ailin grabbed his hand back, squeezing, “I’ll talk to him.”

“I don’t want you catching flak for me, I don’t want him to lash out at you for me.” Reinhard’s sad half smile just served to strengthen her resolve.

“No. I’ll talk to him. I can’t even imagine how my dad would feel if I acted how Noah just acted with you. I just—he’s not usually like this. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, darling. You just don’t know him like I do—once that boy gets a thought in his head, it’s difficult to change his mind. Besides, you have been the highlight of my day. So, I don’t want you to get in between this and wind up hurt…Although, I have to admit that I don’t know Noah anymore…but if you think you have that kind of connection with him? Strong enough to speak sense and have him not be upset by your honesty—then I guess it would be okay if you talked to him. Just…please prioritize your relationship. I want him to be happy regardless of how he may feel about me.” Reinhard stepped back and sat down on the bed, his shoulders losing the prideful edge they had had all day since Ailin first saw him.

Ailin gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze in turn, her smile encouraging. Then she walked out of the room, pulling the door behind her, though it didn’t close.

*

Noah

“Noah!” Ailin’s harsh whisper made the hairs on the back of his neck erect.

“Sigh.” Noah squeezed his eyes shut, swallowed the gulp of protein shake he had just taken, then turned towards her.

He opened his eyes and looked at Ailin. She was pissed.

“Why are you being like this? So—¡como un pinche mamón! Like, what even was that?”

His fears of her not understanding how he felt about Reinhard ringing true.

“Baby—Ailin. You have to understand, we aren’t like your family. You don’t get it. There are things that can’t be fixed.” He sighed.

“Explain it to me then.” She crossed her arms over her chest, but for once, Noah wasn’t distracted by that.

He opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words to express what he felt. It’s like every time he thought about talking about what had happened he would get overwhelmed—his heart would beat faster, the tendrils under his stomach would uncoil, and his limbs would start to go numb.

“I—I can’t do that.” He ran his hands through his hair.

If he told her what had happened, she would know that he is a complete pussy. She would think that he thinks she’s capable of what Navi had done to him. For fucks sake, she would think that he thinks she’s easy or a slut or something. But that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was Reinhard.

“Why not? Why can’t you tell me?” There was desperation on her face.

Noah could tell she wanted—no, needed—to know.

But how could he tell her his most humiliating moment? Would that change the way she looked at him? Right now, he was a man, he was the strongest person she knew. But if he told her what happened, he would just be a—

“Hey! Are you even here right now? I am asking you a question.” She raised her voice at Noah.

For a moment, Noah was four again, staring up at Reinhard. He had dropped the glass of milk Reinhard had given him—after waking up the old bastard in the middle of the night to pour it for him in the first place.

*

“Why the fuck did you do that? Are you stupid or something?”

Noah felt the tears in his eyes, but he didn’t drop it on purpose…he didn’t know why he dropped it.

“Ow!” And now his father was squeezing his shoulder, hard. “Ow! Dad—OW!”

“Can’t you hear me? Answer the question! Why did you drop it?”

“I—I don’t—I’m sorry! I did a accident!”

But Reinhard didn’t actually care about the answer.

*

“¿Me estás ignorando?”

Noah looked at Ailin, annoyance bordering on anger. Under that, he felt anxious fear. His voice matched hers.

“He’s here because Amber asked me to take him while she is able to sell the house and get enough money to put him in a home or get a full-time caretaker. He’s not here for him and I to play house or for you to play family therapist.”

“I’m just trying to help! I know how difficult it is for children to be taken from their parents when they’re young, **** to live separately—”

“What? What the hell are you talking about? Look, I get that you miss your mom but he’s not your mom. This is different. Stop.”

He could see the hurt in her eyes—admittedly, that had been a low blow. And still, she tried. Always trying.

“Noah, just tell me what happened! I can help!”

“He’s an abuser! Okay? Isn’t that good enough? I fucking hate him. He doesn’t respect boundaries, he gets inside people’s heads.”

“What did he do? He doesn’t seem—”

“Ailin! Oh my fucking—of course he doesn’t seem like an abuser. No one seems like it until they are one. Just because he’s losing his mind doesn’t erase the shit he did. I can’t just forgive that.”

“Okay! But what did he do? Let me help!”

“Just stop! I don’t want your help! I don’t want to talk about it. Why can’t you just understand that? Why isn’t anything ever enough for you?”

*

Ailin

Ailin didn’t understand, she couldn’t—she thought she had made that clear. She needed to understand, but he wasn’t willing to trust her.

Maybe their relationship wasn’t as strong as she thought it was?

“You don’t want my help? Okai, amor. A ver si cierto. Well, if you need my help, don’t call me.”

Ailin started walking to their bedroom. She grabbed her phone, then her backpack. Grabbing a clean change of clothes and stuffing them in her gym bag, she called River.

It rang a couple of times before it went to voicemail.

“Hija de tu puta madre.” She cursed as she walked down the hall.

Emi was next.

It rang a single time before Emi answered.

“—while you're on the phone?” A man laughed his question out in the background.

“You do that and I’ll leave so fast, test me, fool.” Emi’s monotone voice came through with a bit of uncharacteristic personality and edge.

There was another laugh from the man, but less cocksure.

“Ahh c’mon.”

There was silence for a few moments before Emi spoke again.

“Yeah, güey. That’s what I thought. Ailin, ¿qué pasó?”

Ailin walked into the empty kitchen—no Noah.

“You sound busy, ¿estás en casa?” Ailin was fighting the lump rising in her throat.

“No. I’m at—my cousin's house.” A loud laugh came from the mystery man, followed by a smack, ‘ow’ from him, and ‘shh’ from her.

“Okai pues, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sorry, guera!” Emi hung up.

Ailin walked out the front door—Noah had left the house, his truck wasn’t parked in the driveway. A part of Ailin—the pettiest part—hoped Noah would come back and feel like shit when he didn’t see her car parked in the driveway. She hoped he would try to call her, but she was prepared not to answer.

She only had two people left to call who she would even consider talking to about this with—Erika or Suki. If she was being honest though, the thought of dealing with Erika—her aggressive shit talking—was already making her upset.

So, she called Suki. After four rings and Ailin’s hopelessness building, Suki finally answered.

“Look who came crawling back.”

“¿Estás en casa?” Ailin tried to keep her emotions in check.

“You okay? Yeah. I’m home—what happened?”

“Can I go? Te platico when I get there.”

“Okai. Love you.”

Ailin swallowed the lump, “love you, too, perra.”

*

“¿Estás bien?” Suki hugged Ailin at the door.

“Si…no. I don’t know.”

“Tell me que paso. Did Noah’s dad do something ¿o qué?”

“Actually, no. Noah’s dad was great. He’s a little, no se como decirlo, like, imposing? But he was actually nice to talk to.”

“¿Entonces? What happened?”

“So I guess. Noah y su papa, they don’t have a good relationship—Noah called him an abuser. Like physically? Emotionally? I don’t know! He didn’t tell me! And well, I was getting to know him and Suki, he seems great. But I feel bad. He told me, me tuvo la confianza to tell me that it wasn’t his choice to not be around, that it was Noah’s mom’s choice. He trusted me with that.”

“Dude, don’t tell me. You didn’t—?”

Ailin sighed, slumping down on the couch and dropping her gym bag on the floor.

“Well I don’t even know what happened. Noah never tells me nada. He just closes up and gets all quiet when I’ve brought it up. And like, I’m just worried. Imagine how much hate he’s holding onto inside. Diosito tells us we need to forgive. And that’s his dad! He has to forgive him.”

Suki rolled her eyes, it had been years since Ailin used religion to justify herself.

“Dude, like—no crees that that means it’s actually bad?”

“Look! I get it. Yo se, but like, I can’t even imagine what it’s like to not have mi papa. So, I was just trying to help.”

“Did Noah or his dad ask you for help?”

“Uhm…Noah no. And, like, I guess Reinhard didn’t either. He actually told me he didn’t want me getting in between everything. He made it sound like Noah wouldn’t even listen to me, pero yo no esperaba that he would be right, you know? Yo y Noah, tenemos—like, a great relationship you know?”

“Mira dude, yo no soy Noah. I can’t speak for him, but your family, I don’t know—aren’t there times where you don’t want to talk to any of them?”

“I guess but then I think, ¿y si se mueren? Like literally, what if they died while we were upset at each other, I would feel so bad. I would hate that. So much. I have to fix it.”

“But dude, not everyone wants that. Not everyone feels that way. Did you even ask Noah what he wanted?”

Ailin opened her mouth to say that she’s his wife, she has his best interest in mind, always. But then she thought about it. Again, she was about to just steamroll what Noah wanted, or what he thought.

“No, I guess I didn’t…”

“And you guys call me a dumb ass.” Suki poked Ailin on the side and sat next to her.

Ailin put her head on Suki’s shoulder, “La regue machin, veda. God, I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you fucked up. But it’s okay. You just have to apologize and tell him que lo respetas and you respect what he wants.”

Ailin groaned, “yeah…tienes razon. I just—like—I don’t know….I just feel so bad for his dad. Like, don’t get me wrong. I’m sure he probably did something bad and that’s why they didn’t stay together. Pero like, how bad could it have been? I mean, Amber still took care of him. She asked Noah to take over for a few months.”

Ailin thought about that—five months. At first, it had seemed like such an annoying inconvenience, but since she had gotten to know the Wagner patriarch a little more, it didn’t seem as bad.

Now she just hoped Noah was going to be okay.

“But the forgiveness thing…si no—if he doesn’t forgive his dad…like what if I messed up? Would he forgive me?”

Suki’s finally connected the dots.

“Dude. Is that what this is about? You think he wouldn’t forgive you?” Suki’s unamused tone made Ailin squirm.

“I don’t know…I just—like—I’m just scared you know? Everything…I’m just so overwhelmed. Things are just changing and I feel like I have no control over anything around me. I wanted a baby, we can’t have a baby. I didn’t want to help take care of his dad, but I have to because I’m not una culera. And now I keep thinking, what if I didn’t agree to take care of his dad. I know Noah hates him, but he loves Amber. Would he forgive me? If we couldn’t have babies, would he forgive me?” Ailin started to rub her hands together, “if I did something wrong, would he forgive me?”

Suki put her arm around Ailin and gave her a squeeze.

“Dude, te ama. Like, have you seen how he looks at you? How he treats you? Everything is going to be okay. Calmate.”

Ailin sighed, not satisfied but calmed down.

After a few minutes, Suki spoke.

“So que, you like his dad or what?”

“He seems okay. He’s really nice, charismatic. I thought he was going to be a racist asshole si te soy honesta. But he hasn’t been. A little sexist, though.”

Ailin hadn’t noticed the sly smile Suki had plastered on her face. But she did notice the tone in Suki’s voice as she spoke again.

“But like, that’s never been an issue for you.”

“Suki.” Ailin’s voice was tense.

“Like Dr. Simpson for example.”

“SUKI!”

“What? It’s true—”

“Suki, parale! I’m serious, bitch. I’ll leave.”

“No seas asi. Why do you always try to avoid that conversation? I figured something out. I have been meaning to tell you, pero nunca te prestas. I literally figured out something that might help you understand.”

Ailin glared at Suki, but she was curious.

“Fine, Suki. What did you figure out?”

“Remember when you talked to us during lunch? About how you wanted Noah to treat you? Well, don’t you remember?”

Ailin had tried her best to forget that part of her.

“Remember what…”

“I see the look on your face. You know exactly what I am talking about. Why are you so ashamed of that?”

Ailin stared at Suki, she was angry, but she was also going through everything she didn’t like thinking about—about Dr. Simpson.

“Suki, I—mira. I never said anything, because…If I told you? I don’t know. I just—it wasn’t a good time for me. I was rebelling because my dad didn’t want me to go to college. And Dr. Simpson, I don’t know, he took advantage that I trusted him…”

Suki’s smile grew wider, “but you like that! You want to be used like that. That’s why you want Noah to just, like, take you—like Erika said.”

Ailin had spent so much time trying to forget what she had been like in her first stint in college—tried so hard to separate herself from who she had been—that she hadn’t realized she could have any lingering tendencies from that person.

But her eyes widened as she began to connect the dots herself.

“Si le atine, ¿veda? Hit that shit right on the mark.” Suki looked so proud of herself, but Ailin was gone.

Her mind was lost in her memory.

*

Ailin felt so ****. After being thoroughly fucked by her psychology professor, she had expected to go home. That was the usual routine, but Dr. Simpson had other plans. He tied her hands above her head with his favorite tie—one his wife had given him. And he looked at his student.

A porcelain angel trembled underneath him, splayed out on his bed just for his pleasure. She still had his cum on her belly—ans her long, beautiful blonde hair disheveled.

“And you’ll pass me? Because last time, you didn’t keep your promise.”

Ailin was still trying to recover from the ‘F’ Dr. Simpson had given her on her midterm. It was the first time she had ever been failing a class in college.

“Last time, you didn’t let me fuck your ass like you had said you would. I don’t play that removing consent bullshit women like you like to play. If you tell me I am going to be able to fuck you any way I want, that’s what I expect. And that’s what I’m going to get.”

Ailin shivered. She hated his words, his face, the way he had looked at her all semester, how he had tricked her into believing he cared about her—everything about him. So she wondered why the way he treated her made her feel so…short of breath, so turned on—why she was so ensnared by it.

She felt terrified but so turned on at the same time. All the power was his—he determined if she passed or failed his class, he dictated how they were going to fuck, he determined if he was merciful or not. Ailin had to abide, otherwise she would be punished.

She felt her pussy tingle, her labia moistening at those thoughts.

Ailin had no power here—no control.

“Are you going to let me fuck your ass?”

Ailin thought about it. She really needed to pass—if she didn’t maintain her GPA she would lose her scholarship.

“Yes.”

“If you say yes, we aren’t going to stop no matter what. Still say yes?”

“I—I need to pass.”

Dr. Simpson smiled.

He loved watching her big tits when he fucked her, but that wasn’t the best position for anal. At least, not for his enjoyment. He needed her to clench her fat ass cheeks around his shaft as he pushed in.

He flipped her over and grabbed her hands above her head, then positioned his cock at her anus. Ailin grunted, his weight on top of her.

“I’m going to tear your ass up.”

Ailin yelped, feeling the pressure of his tip at her entrance.

“Wait—”

“Remember what I said? No waiting.”

“But aren’t you—¡owsh! ¡Hijo de tu puta madre!—use lube?!” Ailin tried to turn her head to look at him, but Dr. Simpson snaked his arm under her neck.

“Sh…I told you not to speak that shit around me. God your ass is incredible, I’m almost in—I think.”

Ailin was overwhelmed. There were so many sensations across her body to focus on. Most of his weight was on her back, she felt like she was going to suffocate. He wasn’t a slim man by any means. She could feel his gut above her ass, forcing her to arch to accommodate him.

Then his hands. One was holding her own—tied—above her head. The knot was tight and his grip was tighter so she couldn’t really move them. The other was around her neck as she struggled to breathe.

Initially, when he had first done that to her, she didn’t like it. She felt **** to get his hands off of her, but the effect it had on their sex was undeniable. That tension in her neck—the struggle to breathe as she was getting pounded into a bed, a table, the backseat of a car—was amazing. She had had to explain the bruises to Suki, but it was worth it for the crashing orgasms she would ride back to her steady breaths.

The most intrusive sensation, however, was her professor’s oversized cockhead trying to infiltrate her virgin ass. The rest of his cock was less than average, but his tip was almost twice the girth of his shaft.

“Ow! Prof—fuck! Please get the lu—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He whispered into her ear and applied more pressure to her throat.

Her mind started to feel fuzzy. From experience, she knew she had maybe ten seconds before she would start to go in and out of consciousness. Or she would have if the biggest sensation—a strange one she wasn’t familiar with—wasn’t keeping her uncomfortably awake. It was a feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t feel turned on—no, she felt dread. She didn’t want to do this. Pain with pleasure was one thing, but this felt like it was just going to be just pain. Especially without the lube.

She didn’t want this.

“Gtttfff!” She gulped for air as he let go of her hands and pushed her head into the bed.

She could feel his tip starting to progress, stretching her slowly. Devastatingly deliberate and without any mercy.

“AaaAAAHHHH!” She screamed into the bed.

Digging deep, she used both her hands to punch above her own head, hitting the professor, stunning him for a moment.

“Fucking bitch—what the fuck is wrong with you?” He stopped **** her and lifted her head by her beautiful hair.

“Get off!” She thrashed, making him lose his progress as his cock dislodged itself.

“You promised—”

She managed to get her hands under her collarbone and pushed on the bed, tilting herself enough to move her powerful leg underneath her.

“Get off me!” She screamed again, bucking.

Dr. Simpson clumsily got off of Ailin. His barrel body struggled to do it quickly.

“You little fucking cunt. I’m going to fail you!” He tried to grab her hair again but Ailin had turned around and kicked his hand.

“AAAHHH FUCK!” He squealed like a pig, grabbing his hand.

“Do it! I don’t care!” Ailin had tears in her eyes as she bit into the tie, loosening the knot.

“You’ll never study here again you bitch.”

Ailin threw on her shirt and pants, not even bothering to grab her underwear or socks as she slipped into her flats and ran out of the fat professor’s house.

*

“Ailin!” Suki had to shake her to get her attention, “dude ¿estas bien?” The desperation brought Ailin back out of her head.

She had been staring hard at the wall—eyes wide, almost shell shocked. Her hands were red and raw with how hard she had been rubbing them.

“I’m sorry. I—was just…I don’t want to talk about that.” Ailin put her feet onto the couch and her head on Suki’s lap.

“I won’t bring it up anymore, okay?”

“Okay.” Ailin’s voice was shaky.

Suki started to dig her fingers into Ailin’s scalp, the way she used to in college.

“I think…you and Noah need to learn how to communicate better…”

Ailin let out a tiny, sad moan, “ya se. I just don’t know how.”

The truth was, neither her, nor Noah, knew how.

*

Noah

Ailin’s car was gone when he had returned, but he wasn’t worried. He had seen her location on the Find My Phone app almost twenty minutes prior. She was at Suki’s house.

Noah sighed. He would text her an apology later. Right now, he needed to go inside—he would be alone with his dad for the first time in over a decade.

He walked in after struggling with his keys and found his dad sitting at the table, reading a newspaper with a bag of delivered food. The old man looked up to see Noah walking in and grunted.

“I was expecting your prettier half to walk in, but I guess you can have some of the food.” The old man smirked, “I ordered burgers—well, your sister did. She used that car dash app or whatever it’s called.”

Noah stared at him. From a normal father, that was a compliment, a genuine appreciation of his wife. But from Reinhard it wasn’t. The layers were too disgusting and rotten for Noah to even peel back and examine.

As he looked at his father, he still couldn’t believe this old man—this bag of skin, old bones and shrinking muscles was the man he had feared all his life.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Noah. Look, I don’t remember what I did—this fucking memory. I can’t—sigh—remember a lot of stuff. And Madeline…I’m sorry, okay? Whatever it was, I am sorry. I need you to know that. I don’t know how much time I have left before my mind is just—boom…” He looked up, his hands gesturing an explosion.

“What do you want me to say? That I forgive you? Here just one day and you already talked Ailin into going to bat for you. I should have never agreed to take you in, but here we are.”

“Look—I didn’t ask her to do that for me. That was her own idea. She’s a smart, beautiful, and capable woman, she knows what she wants. It wasn’t my idea for her to ‘go to bat’ for me.” Reinhard seemed annoyed.

“Capable woman, who taught you that?”

“Madeline.” Was all Reinhard said to that.

“Look. There’s burgers. I’m going to eat mine, you can eat yours—or not—just know that I want to fix things between us.”

“It’s too late for that.”

They both turned at the sound of the front door opening.

Ailin walked in. She looked up, surprised at both men staring at her.

Noah noticed her eyes and nose were red, her cheeks puffy, and her mascara was gone. She walked up to him, always that natural sway in her walk.

“I love you, can we talk—” she looked at Reinhard and smiled, then back at Noah, “privately?”

“Yeah, of course, baby doll.” He turned away from Reinhard and hugged her.

“It’s getting late anyway. I need to get to bed.” Reinhard stood up, grabbing the burgers and putting them in the fridge.

He looked over at Ailin and smiled—his eyes sad. She gave him an apologetic, awkward smile back and mouthed the word, ‘sorry.’

Looking defeated, he walked to his room. His pace was slow and his shoulders slumped down, discouraged. They heard the door close.

Ailin broke their embrace and grabbed Noah’s hand—leading him to their bedroom.

**

Ailin | Noah

“I’m—” They both spoke at the same time.

“You f—” They laughed as they spoke at the same time again.

This time, Ailin pointed at Noah, gesturing for him to go first. He nodded his head.

“I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have acted that way. I understand why you may think I need help repairing the relationship between me and Reinhard, but—”

“Hey! Hold on, amor. I’m sorry. I understand—I think. I mean—I don’t understand everything, but I understand why that upset you. I’m going to stay out of it. I just wanted to help because I love you and Reinhard doesn’t seem so bad—but I don’t know him like you do. So I won’t **** you like that again. And you didn’t even ask for that kind of help. I understand that now…do you still love me?”

Her words came out like a jumbled mess.

“Of course I do, baby.” He pulled her into his big bear arms and squeezed, eliciting a satisfied groan from her. “I am sorry about earlier—what I said—about your mom and all. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I did.”

“Thank you! For always being so patient and understanding, me haces sentir so safe. I know you would never hurt me on purpose.” She buried her face into chest.

Noah felt her breath on his chest, it was hot and shallow. He could feel her squirm in his arms.

Is she…?

*

Ailin had been trying her hardest to ignore the thoughts in her head. But she kept imagining her moments with Dr. Simpson. In her mind, she had swapped out the fat old professor for her husband. The image was shaky as she relied on her memory to create it, but it worked for her.

That had been Suki’s idea.

“Just think about Noah, ¡mensa! Then you don’t have to be so alterada all the time about what happened. You can enjoy what you like and replace that gross fuck. Still weird how you fucked an old fat guy by the way—he looked like a tomato, dude.”

Ailin had pinched Suki’s arm at that.

Now she couldn’t stop imagining it. Instead of Dr. Simpson fucking her in the backseat of his car, it was Noah. Instead of her deepthroating Dr. Simpson at the back of the movie theater, it was Noah—with his much prettier cock.

*

Noah looked down at her and lifted her chin gently with his hand. She stared up at him lovingly, but there was a hint of something more in her eyes. She wanted more from him.

“I’ll forgive you if you give me a kiss.” She smiled.

Gently, he leaned down to kiss her. She stood on her tippy toes.

Her breasts swelled against him as she took a deep breath in anticipation before their lips locked together. He traced down her neck to her chest and placed his right palm against her left breast, feeling her heart.

Thuh-thump—thuh-thump—thuh-thump.

Tongues fighting for dominance, Noah won—he penetrated her mouth as she hungrily sucked him in.

Tank tops always provided easy access for Noah and he reached in, his hand invading the cup of her bra, replacing it with his fingers—rolling her nipple.

“O, asi Noah.” She sighed—reaching down in turn to cup his manhood over his gym shorts.

Unexpectedly, he shot his left hand down, grabbing her wrist and breaking the kiss.

“Not yet, I want to apologize to you, for you to truly forgive me.”

“Pero amor, you already did. I already—”

He put his finger on her lips.

“Not yet—not completely, anyway. You have another set of lips I need to kiss.”

Chills fired off throughout Ailin’s body as Noah grabbed her tank top and bra, pulling down. The fabrics stretched until they were under her exposed breasts.

“God you are so sexy.” Noah was enthralled by her.

Ailin felt herself being pushed down onto the bed, but she didn’t realize it until her back hit the mattress and her chest shook. Suddenly self conscious and ****, she realized she wasn’t taking charge. She wasn’t leading. Noah was.

She smiled, happy tears lining the corner of her eyes.

Noah hooked the elastic waistband of her stretch denim shorts—and the thong she wore underneath—with his thick fingers and pulled.

Ailin felt the waistband hesitate on the generous curve of her ass—her most desired asset and her biggest insecurity—before Noah’s eager strength stripped them from her. The fabric roughly licked her skin as it slowed over her thighs. And then the sensation was gone. She was completely nude from the waist down except her socks. Exposed.

Almost on instinct, her emotions still raw from earlier, she tried to close her legs. But Noah grabbed her calves, spreading her open. Face flushing with embarrassment, she got light-headed.

She hadn’t felt this wet since Dr. Simpson first touched her.

“Baby, you’re practically gushing.” Noah reached down, putting his hand on her pussy.

Without so much as even rubbing her, just a simple placement of his hand, he could feel her arousal cling to him. When he pulled his hand away, it felt like he had run his palm under the sink.

He lifted his hand to his mouth—staring directly into her eyes—and licked his palm.

“Mmmm, tastes like candy.”

Ailin felt her breath leave her body when Noah placed her legs on his shoulders and sunk down onto the bed. He looked up at her, their eyes locking before he stuck his long, wide tongue out and lapped her labia from end to end.

Ailin tried her hardest to keep eye contact, trying to fight off the way her body responded—but she was ultimately a **** to it. Her eyelids drooped as her eyes rolled back. She fought to keep looking at those deliberately languid licks, but every time that velvet tongue touched her, she was **** to submit—not to Noah, but to her own body.

“FUCK!” the sound rumbled in her throat before it came out of her mouth.

With his right hand, Noah unveiled her clit from its protection, spreading her lips to expose her further. He formed a perfect ‘o’ with his mouth and blew. The hot breath was cool when it hit her clit. She shivered and grabbed the sheets, the blankets, anything her hands could grip and moaned.

“Baby, you have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen.” He puckered his lips and gave her clit a kiss, making Ailin twitch.

“You like that?” He kissed again, her body unable to resist the shock that travelled up her nerves and into her spine, making her twitch again.

It was rare for Ailin to be rendered speechless. As Noah resumed his siege of her pussy, she arched her back. Noah’s soft tongue was flicking her clit and his fingers were invading her. First one, curling inside of her, just tickling her, teasing her. Then another and she groaned, her pussy accommodating Noah’s thick fingers. That rapidly built the pressure in her tummy, making her feel warm throughout her body and in every extremity.

Noah started to **** another finger in and Ailin cried out.

“GAAAWD!” She felt the first orgasmic wave rise and smack her insides, making her whole body tense.

She arched her back and Noah had to put his right hand on her tummy, forcing her back down as he continued to finger fuck her with his left.

“¡Hijo de tu puta madre porque eres tan bueno conmigo te amo te amo TE AMO!” Her words came out in rapid fire as she burst into tears—her eyes rolling back.

Her own voice sounded muffled to her.

Noah was furiously fingering her and had created a vacuum around her clit with his lips—circling it relentlessly with the tip of his tongue with as much pressure as he could muster.

Ailin’s breathing became sporadic, breaking into short, **** gasps as she lost control of her body. She felt like her oxygen was being **** out of her—replaced by the pleasure that assaulted her.

And then it was gone.

Her body relaxed into the bed, breath slowly returning.

She realized there was a voice speaking, but she couldn’t hear what it was saying or even open her eyes to see who was speaking. It felt like she was underwater.

Strong hands grabbed her shoulders—pulling her out of the waves of pleasure—and shook. A whine appeared inside her head and slowly moved to the background as Noah’s voice moved ahead of it—her hearing slowly returning

“Baby! Are you okay? Aw shit, say something!” He was trying not to panic, but he had never seen her react this way.

Ailin’s eyelids fluttered open—but they felt heavy, like someone was pulling them down. When she finally managed to keep them open, her eyes struggled to regain focus.

The Noah blur in her vision stilled, becoming two, then one.

“Oh my god, I thought you were having a seizure or something.” Noah cradled her and kissed her forehead.

The concern on his face made Ailin’s emotional dam burst open—her tears falling freely as she started to sob. But she wasn’t upset, she was relieved.

“Oh my god, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Noah naively asked.

“No amor, fuck—” a sob racked through her, “no, of course not. That was amazing.”

“Amazing? Baby doll you passed out—and—and now you're crying.”

“I know I’m sorry, that was just—oh my god. ¡Dios, qué sentido!—I love you so much, amor.” She wrapped her arms around him and brought his face down to hers—kissing him.

And she wanted more.

“You scared me.” Noah kissed her back.

“Please, I need you to make love to me, now.” Ailin stared into Noah’s eyes.

He opened his mouth to question her, but she silenced him with another kiss—impassioned, hungry, needy.

“Please.” She whispered against his lips.

Noah stood up and took off his shirt, then both his shorts and briefs in one smooth motion. His cock dangling between his legs as he climbed back onto the bed—Ailin never breaking eye contact with it.

Clink.

Ailin’s eyes went wide while Noah’s head shot around—their eyes looking at their bedroom door—they had never closed it.

After a couple seconds of silence, Noah got off the bed.

“What the fuck was that?” He rushed to the door.

Opening it all the way, he looked into the hall. All the lights were off except for the kitchen’s—which they had left on. He then stared at the old bastard’s door—his eyebrows furrowed. Waiting for something, anything to happen. After ten seconds, there was nothing—no sound, no movement, no light.

No sign of Reinhard.

Noah closed his eyes and shook his head, he was losing his mind. He was far too paranoid. There was nothing for them to worry about.

“Amor, what is it?” Ailin had covered herself up under the blankets.

“Nothing baby. It must have been the heater coming on or something.” He shut the door—his paranoia ebbing away as his arousal **** his attention again, “we have got to remember to close the door.”