Under Her Control Ch. 02

She was sitting around her work desk but she wasn't on her laptop. She was spinning a thumb drive around and round on top of her Macbook; he wondered how long she'd been at it. She looked up at him with an odd mixture of contrition and defiance on her face. He closed the door behind him, not knowing what to expect and unwilling to have their conversation overheard.

"Is that what it takes to get you to talk to me?" she asked, still spinning the thumb drive between her thumb and index finger.

"You're right," he conceded. "I should have come to you before. I just didn't know what to say."

She stopped her fidgeting abruptly and got up from the desk. It was a defensive move, though he hadn't moved much from the door she'd felt intimidated having him stand over her. She attempted to sound the words twice before anything actually came out. "I'm sorry. It was... it was..." She searched but couldn't quite find the words. "I'm sorry," she repeated, relying on old faithful. Tears spilled out of her eyes.

He fought the instinctive urge he had to comfort her but then cursed himself for a coward and gave in. He couldn't be a slave to embarrassment forever and she needed his reassurance. He was a father first. He couldn't afford to forget that. Besides, he wasn't tied now. He was the one in control.

She stood rigidly in his arms for a few minutes, but then she was wriggling free, wiping her eyes with her hands. "I shouldn't have said that in front of Claire, I'm sorry." She was delivering the line as though she'd practiced it, all the better for keeping emotions out of it. "I also shouldn't have done what," her breath caught, "what I did. I'm sorry for that too." She nodded, as though reaffirming how sorry she was. "I don't want us to be like this anymore," her voice deconstructed around her confessions, her cheeks saturated by tears, "but I don't know if you can forgive me." She swallowed a shaky breath.

"Oh Aria," he exclaimed. He longed to go to her. "I do, I forgive you. Can you do the same for me?" He saw he'd taken her by surprise. "I should have stopped it. I should have stopped the minute you pulled my hands." He hadn't even admitted his culpability personally yet. It surprised him to hear his acknowledgment of a share of the guilt out loud.

She looked down at her hands, fighting against a tumult of emotions that would seize her throat and flood her eyes to distraction. "I messed everything up." She looked at him for confirmation and whispered, "You hate me."

"No, no Mine..." He forgot everything else and drew her into the crook of his arm, calling her something he hadn't in a long time. "That's impossible Aria. There's nothing that you could ever do that could make me hate you."

"Then why won't you talk to me?" She hiccupped violently over this question; it was obviously at the crux of all her insecurities.

"I was wrong. I didn't know what to say to you and was too ashamed for a confrontation." He couldn't believe how honest he was being. It was a level of honesty he hadn't even shared with himself. "But everything isn't messed up, Mine. We just... we can't have that kind of relationship." He tilted her chin up to look at the face her crying had ruined.

"I know!" She was shuddering, getting the words out between sad little yelps. "But you... you can't ignore me, Dad. It drives me nuts."

*****

He no longer ignored her. Another half hour of talking, her sitting on the bed and him on her desk chair, had afforded them a common understanding of how things would be from then on. They both agreed to not talk about their having sex again, for fear that Laurel or Claire might find out. If they didn't talk about it, even when positively alone, it might reduce the chance of alluding to it when in company; though the sheer agony for both of bringing it up would have kept them mum on the subject without need of a definite agreement.

She'd agreed to apologize to Laurel and Claire for her outburst – only because it was easier to calm the waters. She'd been shocked when he'd, all on his own, taken her side in that particular argument. In the time since their talk he'd made a concerted effort to treat her better. She'd conceded that she wasn't a kid anymore, that some of the expectations and jealousies she had were anachronistic in a nineteen year old, but he also gave that the almost cut-off of all innocent intimacies between them had been a cruel thing for him to do. They'd gone to see Out of Africa together one week later, and it had been just the two of them.

Her appetite picked back up, and, to Laurel's utter consternation so did her weight. She had personally hated her emaciated look and had taken extra care to try and taste every one of Baskin Robbin's flavors. With the money Matthew had given her she went shopping for her dress for the anniversary party. They had rented a local restaurant and the manager had agreed to let them hold the renewal ceremony there as well. It was a simple thing anyway; they would stand at the head table and recite their vows to each other, and after some toasts from their friends and family (she'd wriggled out of making one of her own) they'd sit down and the waiters would serve them dinner.

She got Alex to go with her. The older girl wouldn't be in town the day of the dinner so she wasn't going to be there, but she wanted to have a hand in what her friend would wear. They ended up in a small boutique that was slightly off the beaten mall path. It was a place Alex shopped at, and since she was always spiffily dressed, Aria decided to trust her. She tried on a lot of clothes and ended up going for a black, satin cocktail dress. It ended just above her knees and had princess seams that flattered the deep curves from her breasts through her waist to her hips. The wide shoulder straps had soft twists that gave them a triangular flare, the only true adornment of the dress. It was her figure that was to tell the story, and it did.

As she stood before the mirror in her room the day of the dinner, she couldn't quite believe how like her mother she looked; not that she was any closer to a size two. There was just a new confidence in her that had lots to do with having found the perfect dress, finding the perfect lipstick and having successfully pranced around her room in her four inch heels within falling, but it had mostly to do with her being a woman now; regardless of how she had earned the badge. She sighed giving herself one last appreciative look in the mirror. She could handle tonight. She and her dad had a new lease on their relationship. Crazy, wayward thoughts about things that made her heart flutter had no place in their existence. Tonight, she would be the dutiful daughter. That's all she was.

*****

Matthew Evanstone was not enjoying himself. The ceremony had gone off splendidly; the food had been served post haste. The music was perfect, and everything shone; especially Aria. He should be enjoying himself, but he was too busy watching her.

She'd stolen his breath when she'd walked into the living room. The two of them were the first down, though not for long enough for him to make an ass out of himself. Inexplicably, ever since their truce and the subsequent ease in the tension it had brought, he'd become increasingly receptive to prurient thoughts about her. When they'd been in their uncomfortable period of stasis, he'd been oversensitive to reminders of them having sex. They'd turn up impromptu, shocking him with their clarity and power to arouse. But now he was actively turning his thoughts towards her, even imagining her when he was in bed with Laurel.

Spending time with her had morphed into the type of vicarious thrill cigarette addicts get from nicotine gum. It was almost enough to be near her, smell her, and touch her – innocently of course. It was almost enough to know that he'd had her; almost enough.

He felt half out of his mind. He was nowhere closer to understanding what was happening to him. With his writer's mind he had made himself accept that, at least in the most primitive of ways, he wanted his daughter. It was a want borne out of the taboo and fostered in reality, he'd had her once. Was once enough?

He grinned at something one of their friends said to him in a mock whisper. It was a zinger, the type of inappropriate comment people lovingly made about couples and the expectations of their marriage. He wondered fatalistically what his well-wishing crowd would be toasting if they knew that the flush of arousal visible on his face wasn't caused by his wife of a year.

The music was low and many people were dancing already. Part of his problem was that Aria had been on splendid display to him for the last three songs, dancing with one uncle or another from her mother's side of the family. He and his old in-laws were still close, and those close enough had made the journey for the anniversary, delighted to see Cathy almost incarnate in Aria's newfound confidence and élan. He distrusted what he knew to be innocence in their grasps on her. He was her father and look what they'd done together! But he couldn't think like that, and he couldn't begrudge them their time together though he knew he would have been better served if her perfect form had been hidden behind table and cloth.

He felt a hand slide on his thigh, dangerously close up to his hard-on. Laurel gave an impish grin as though nothing was happening below the table and squeezed him with satisfaction. He sucked in a breath at the pressure her touch plus his visual aid was providing. He had to stop this! Wrenching his eyes from the dance floor he smiled at his beautiful wife. He loved her, she loved him. What else did he need? Minutes later, he excused himself from the table. He had a valid reason for leaving in the need to see if part of his present to Laurel, a special performance by one of her favorite local bands to a photo montage of their first year of marriage together, was primed and ready. He took some of the time to calm himself down a bit, using the manager's office for a bit of privacy while he did so.

When he pulled the office door to step out he was almost run over by a tall, wiry young man in a dark suit and bright blue tie. Matthew righted himself and squinted, trying to remember who this was.

The boy, well, young man really, sensed Matthew's curiosity and introduced himself. "Mr. Evanstone, I'm Colin... Colin Creedy." He offered his hand and Matthew shook it, unreasonably pleased by the almost effete grip of the boy. An apt title after all, he applied more pressure than he normally would have; just for fun.

"Oh, right, the McGulliver's kid." He let go of Colin's hand, not liking the way the younger man's eyes lit up when he revealed he remembered him. Then he knew just why they lit up.

"Right," Colin agreed. Then, after a moment's tentative hesitation he added, "I'm also a... friend of your daughter's."

Is that right?"I know," he agreed, deciding to be deliberately obtuse. "You and Claire grew up not far from each other. Though, I wouldn't have guessed that you'd have much patience hanging out with a kid so much younger than you." He took great pleasure in noting that Colin lacked enough brain cells to believe his mistake.

"Oh, no sir; I mean, Iama friend of Claire's but I was speaking about Aria. In fact, I've been meaning to talk to you about..."

He would hear no more. "Can it wait, Colin? I'm afraid I have to go surprise my wife before she thinks I didn't get her anything." He didn't wait for much of a reply. There was nothing he wanted less than to hear some post-pimple sophomore's 'good-intentions' towards Aria. The calm he'd found in the office abandoned him as anger started trickling back in. Aria would date, he knew that, but not this punk.

He took care of the arrangements over the next fifteen minutes, and they kept him busy enough to keep his mind out of trouble. He was back at Laurel's side and in the role of loving, dutiful husband when the show began. One of the staff dimmed the lights unexpectedly and the room, distracted by the sudden darkness, were doubly thrilled as the big wall on the left was lit up with the video he'd had prepared. Ooh's and aah's of appreciation turned into wild screams as the curtain in the corner dropped and the band was revealed on a dais.

In the tumult his surprise created, Laurel ignoring him for the rapture of seeing her gift, he spun around looking for Aria. But there was no one in her seat. He looked around the rest of the room, even searching among the wait staff in their black pants and skirts. He figured she must have stepped to the bathroom. All the better, he needed to be looking at his wife. And he did. Laurel turned to kiss him almost every time they shared a kiss on the screen; though somehow managing to not take her eyes off the stage. It was a fifteen minute set, and for the entire time, every time Aria showed up on screen he looked around for her, as though only to see her reaction to this picture or that video. But she wasn't anywhere to be seen. When he realized that neither was Colin Creedy present, all other thoughts abandoned him. He shot to his feet, scanning the room for the hundredth time, willing one of them to materialize.

"What's wrong?" Laurel asked when she realized he was now standing beside her."

"I'll be right back." God, he hoped his voice didn't betray his anxiety, his anger, his... There was an unnamed emotion fighting for dominance in his stomach, and he knew he had to find her or he'd have no peace. He smiled as though nothing was wrong to the guests who weren't enraptured by the show and were looking at him questioningly as he headed outside. There was nowhere inside for her to be; he'd checked the office and the bathrooms and aside from the kitchen, where no one was allowed, there was no place else for them to go.

The night was cool but didn't move him to calmness. The restaurant had a private parking lot and it looked vacant except for the cars belonging to members of his party. There weren't any people in sight. He felt a sense of panic and dread he knew to be unreasonable well up inside him. What was she doing with that boy? Where the hell were they?

As if in answer, he heard a giggle he would know with his ears closed. Aria had seen, or heard, orfeltsomething she liked. It had come from the darkness that was the parking lot, and as he drew closer to the source of the giggle he heard thunder crash in his ears as he realized they were inhiscar. Aria had had his keys from him earlier to sneak out the CD that was now making everyone inside so happy. And then she'd kept it; she'd kept it so she could fuck that little dweeb inhiscar.

His rage was something dark and desperate as he came upon them. And though he didn't find the copulating mass he'd expected/dreaded, it didn't dissipate one bit. "Get the fuck away from my daughter." Here was someone old enough to hear cusswords, the thought liberated him.

From the passenger seat, a startled Colin Creedy removed the hand that had been holding a tress of Aria's golden hair. He stammered, trying to come to grips with the sheer rage coming off the man towering over him. "Mr. Evanstone, we were just..." he began, and Matthew gave him an A for the effort.

*****

"We were just listening to his band, Dad. He had a CD so I thought we could listen to it out here." Aria didn't know why, but she felt she needed to state this as plainly as possible. "We weren't doing anything." But the look Matthew gave her said he'd attached a 'yet' to her assurance in his head. He did nothing but glare at Colin, bringing to their minds the order he'd given that had not yet been obeyed.

Sighing, Colin unfurled is tall frame from the seat and stood in the sliver of space Matthew allowed him at the car door. To his credit, or as a result of his stupidity, he tried once more to speak. "Aria and I were just hanging out. I like spending time with her. I wouldneverdo anything to her, sir."

"See that you don't," Matthew all but growled. Aria had come around to their side of the vehicle after she'd seen how her father had all but cornered Colin. She didn't understand why he was behaving like this. She wasn't a child anymore; he of all people knew that. She was nineteen years old, and it wasn't as if she'd never been out on dates before.

"Ok, Dad; let's go back inside," she pleaded, tugging persuasively on his arm.

"Yeah," Colin agreed.

But Matthew didn't move to go in. "I want to talk to you," he said to Aria. Then he turned back to Colin, who'd moved away from the car and had already started inside. "Do me a favor and hold down the fort for me."

Colin looked confused and more than a little worried. Her dad was obviously in a temper, and though Colin, or she for that matter, knew not why, he didn't seem to have decided if she was safe being alone with him. Fearing an exacerbation of the already unbearable situation she assured Colin she was fine. "I'll be right in."

Colin hesitated a few moments more, but then turned reluctantly and walked back inside. They both watched him until he'd closed the restaurant door and then Matthew walked around the car and took his seat behind the wheel. "Get in," he ordered, turning the engine over fully and hitting the eject button on stereo. When the CD slid out he grabbed it and tossed it out his window.

"Dad!" Aria exclaimed. She would have gone back outside for it, but he'd put the car in reverse and was backing out of the space. She looked at him questioningly but he didn't spare her a glance. They were driving out of the parking lot and unto the main road before her senses came back and she put her seatbelt on. She'd never known him to drive so fast. The stoplight gods seemed to be on his side as everyone they zoomed past were either waiting for them or changed to green upon their announcement.

She swallowed, coming to grips with the rising fear. This was her Dad, he wouldn't hurt her she knew, but he might inadvertently hurt them both at the reckless speed he was going. She was afraid even to tell him to slow down for fear of distracting him to destruction. He was running his hand, a hand that would better serve them occupied by the steering wheel, through his stylishly overlong hair. It had become a disheveled wreck of the coiffed style Laurel had made him leave home with. She couldn't help but notice how much sexier he looked when he was rumpled and felt her groin twist. There was something to be said about speed and lust; she was having definite trouble stamping down all the thoughts she'd worked so hard at forgetting.

They didn't speak but she knew where they were going before they reached Degan's Point. It was an obscure bluff not generally frequented by anyone because of its concealment from the beaten path. The road, which was really a track, wasn't even marked by travel as a point of reference. One would have to know the place to find it, and few did; which was why they'd always found it perfect for their one on one midnight picnics. Well, it was close to midnight now, but Aria was sure they weren't here for any kind of picnic. She had an insane thought that he was going to drive them both off the bluff.

He stopped the car though, pulling up the handbrake and shutting off the engine, and she released the breath she hadn't been aware of holding. For what seemed like minutes they sat in silence. She was scared to look at him, but when she finally mustered up the courage she saw that he was looking straight ahead, his hands kissing twelve o'clock on the steering wheel, fingers wired around it until his knuckles were white. "Dad?" she called tentatively.

His voice boomed around them. "Did you fuck him?"

She looked up, so stunned she couldn't form a response.

"I know it had to be during the last couple of weeks; all those evenings you came home so late." He was wringing his hands around the wheel now until the skid of flesh against it could be heard. "What... are you slut now? Is that what sleeping with me turned you into?"