Chapter Text
Taggie carried the bin along with her as she tiptoed through the trash in her pajamas, throwing away beer bottles, plates, and paper streamers left behind from the party. Venturer had won the franchise, and everyone had got shitfaced enough to puke in the planters.
It was all a right mess, and she was the only one not hungover. Guests had fallen asleep where they passed out, and she’d had to poke more than one with a broom to get them moving.
She’d have to ring up Mrs. Makepiece later for an extra set of hands. There was little chance Taggie could clean all this on her own.
Maud was still in London. She hadn’t even called. Not that they had long chats when they lived together, anyway. There was a bit of an ache, knowing she was so easy to leave behind. Even when her mother called her names and pointed out all her flaws, she could believe it was out of some misguided attempt to steer her better. Now, though, it was just proof of her contempt.
Cameron wandered down the stairs, still in last night’s sequined blue dress. Taggie had put her to bed in Caitlin’s room. Hopefully, she didn’t sick up on the sheets. Things had been… strained between them since she and Rupert broke things off over… bees. She thought it was bees. That’s what Rupert told her. Cameron hadn’t said anything at all, but she let him pay for her visa transfer.
“I don’t think I drank that much since I graduated college,” Cameron said. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her eyeliner smeared. “Do you have coffee?”
“There’s a coffee pot in the kitchen. I don’t know if the grounds are still fresh,” Taggie said.
“I’ve had three-day-old coffee made by Marines. I can handle whatever you got,” she mumbled.
Cameron stopped beside her, and Taggie lifted her shoulder defensively. She still wasn’t sure about the woman since the… bees. Taggie did her best to be polite and not rub her relationship with Rupert in the woman’s face. She didn’t want to be cut to shreds by someone who had so much talent for it.
She laid a hand on Taggie’s shoulder. “Congratulations. All that hard work really paid off. I hope you know you were invaluable to the team and your father.”
She blushed. “I don’t know about that. You did more than your share of everything.”
Cameron snorted and moved toward the kitchen. “I know, and now I have to keep it up. Tell your brother I want Shakespeare next time.”
Taggie cocked her head. “I will.”
Cameron and Patrick’s affinity for each other would never cease to confuse her. Not that Cameron wasn’t beautiful and accomplished, but Patrick was so… young and stupid and a boy. Going from Rupert to Patrick had to be jarring. Seb had been a sweet boy, but he’d quickly become another child to care for. And she was already full up on men who couldn’t find their own damn socks.
Rupert didn’t, in fact, need her at all, but he wanted her. It was a strange and exhilarating feeling. They snuck in looks and touches whenever and wherever Declan wouldn’t see. She didn’t want to stress her father more than necessary with that news. It was enough. They’d been too busy with the company proposals to think about much more. She hadn’t even properly spent the night, though he hadn’t let her escape without being thoroughly debauched. Ralphie’s amateur fumbles were long surpassed and forgotten.
Truthfully, it was only Declan she was worried about. He still hadn’t quite pulled out of his funk since Maud left. He kept it together well enough during the day, but in the evening, when the house was quiet and it was just the two of them, he somehow lessened.
Taggie wasn’t Maud, and it was never more apparent. She could clean and cook and run a house. She could praise every accomplishment that he showed off to her, but there was a liveliness that was missing from the house. Maud had a vibrancy and light that Taggie could never access. That talent had gone to Patrick and Caitlin. So, she just watched her father wilt daily, and it hurt that she wasn’t enough. She wasn’t what he needed.
She grabbed a couple of bottles from the coffee table. There was a sticky film over the surface, and she was sure she didn’t want to know what it was.
She sighed and rolled her eyes.
Declan was slumped over the sofa, snoring his whiskers off. He couldn’t be comfortable, and he’d be a bear if he didn’t get a few hours of sleep where he wasn’t contorted like an acrobat.
“Daddy,” she whispered, shaking his shoulder. “Daddy, get up. You need to go to your own bed.”
He grunted and turned on his back. He reached out for her, his hand groping blindly through the air, catching her bare thigh below her sleep shorts. “Maud? Come ‘ere. I haven’t had you in ages.”
Taggie blushed, but she didn’t have a chance to react before Declan tugged on her knee, pulling her down on top of him. She tried to suppress a surprised squeal as she landed sprawled over his chest, her hands trying to find purchase on the sinking cushions of the sofa.
He wrapped one hand around her waist while his other slid inside her shorts, right to the sticky warmth between her legs. “Daddy! Stop!”
Declan growled, his eyes still closed. His fingers teased at her entrance, probing inside. “Call me that again. It’s been a while.”
Her heart raced, tense with fear. She quickly looked around. The house was still filled with sleeping, drunk, and hung-over guests. They couldn’t get caught like this.
Then his mouth was on her skin, just below her throat — harsh brush of whiskers and the warmth of his tongue. She shuddered, her nipples tightening at the stimulation, and she spread her legs wider like Rupert had taught her.
She choked down a whimper as his fingers pressed against her inner walls, finding the spot that made her knees weak and her cunt wet. She could feel his cock twitch in his trousers, pressing up against her mound. It felt so good. She wanted to ground down on him, find that feeling that made her writhe and scream.
Shit. What was she doing?
“No, Daddy,” she whispered harshly, panicked. “It’s Taggie.” She grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him out of her. She shoved her knee into his ribs. “Get your hand out of there!”
“Taggie?” His eyes popped open — wide and bloodshot. His face was so close he could kiss her. “Oh, shit! Taggie. shit.”
She stared at him, face burning warm. Mortified.
He pushed her back and pulled his hand away, his fingers wet. He hurriedly sat up, scrambling away from her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t think it was you. Fuck.”
Taggie pushed off of the sofa and pulled her shorts back into position, looking around. But she couldn’t spot anyone sneaking a peek. Her cunt twitched, grasping on nothing, still horrifyingly aroused. “Just… go to bed, Daddy. I have to — clean up.”
Declan rubbed his hands through his hair, leaving streaks of her slick behind. He looked around, too, still drunk and wobbling. “Of course. Right. Bed. Thank you, Taggie.”
“Yeah. Goodnight,” she said stiffly.
He got up and nearly fell back against the sofa. She reached for him, but he jerked away from her. “Sorry,” he said again. “Night, darling.”
He stumbled up the stairs, and Taggie looked around the room amid the rubbish and soiled rugs. Her pussy ached in that needy way that always happened when Rupert teased her.
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” she mumbled. She was an idiot. She was stupid. She was everything her mother ever said she was.
Taggie left the bin on the floor and went to the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror — mussed red hair and light bruising under her eyes from little sleep. What was she doing?
She didn’t think about it. She stared into the mirror as she slid her hand into her panties. Her whole body jolted as touched her swollen clit, white-hot need filling her stomach. She rubbed, sparking pleasure with each stroke. She tried to picture Rupert behind her, wrapping his arm around her and touching her like he’d done before, but she couldn’t keep his image there.
Then the fantasy changed, morphed into her father — kissing the back of her neck, palming her breast. Taggie bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her fingers moved to her entrance, finding it open and begging and dripping. She slid inside, and she couldn’t silence the moan.
What was she doing?
She thrust her fingers inside, leaning over the sink, watching her face redden and her mouth drop open. “Ah, ah.”
The fantasy Declan smiled at her. ‘My needy, darling. Let Daddy help.’
“Daddy, help,” she whimpered.
Her whole body spasmed at once, locking her muscles in a tight strain as she came. One sharp wave after another hit her until her thighs began to shake, and she slumped to the floor, pulling her hand away. Her hips still flexed, trying to find more pleasure, but she couldn’t touch herself again, the stimulation too much. She could barely think.
Taggie laid her cheek against the cold tile, relaxing into the silent morning and coming back to herself as she breathed through the euphoria to the numbing realization of what she had done.
Her mother had been completely right.