12 comments/ 34022 views/ 9 favorites Under Her Control Ch. 02 By: Sapheron Well, this is the conclusion. It's a bit of a slower burn than the first part but there are feelings and stuff to deal with first. Enjoy, and don't be shy with the voting button, and the favorite button, and the... I've made everything exponentially worse. The thought ran through Aria Evanstone's head at least once every fifteen minutes for the next few weeks; it just would not leave her alone. Though she might admittedly have a pessimistic personality, it wasn't her defeatist nature which supplied her with such morbid thoughts. The cold, hard fact was that things were much worse than they had been before she'd temporarily gone crazy and fucked the entire situation. She'd left her father's room and run straight for the shower as he'd instructed. She'd done everything as he'd instructed, staying in her room until she heard Laurel come home, followed his lead at the dinner table as he turned their sex act into an embarrassing episode of a 'don't ask, just pull one hand and get out of here' scenario. And when, after the dust had settled on the disastrous evening, he'd had no more instructions to give, she'd shut off like a mars rover past its prime. He wasn't speaking to her. The two days she'd spent before that evening moping about how awkward their situation had been were nothing compared to the great divide between them now. Before embarrassment had kept him at a distance but space could not dampen the antipathy she felt coming from him now. The blowback from her mistake of kissing him that night would have passed its expiration date with time, but what she had done days later... It was hard for her not to feel sorry for herself in such a situation. She felt a bit like the anti-Midas, everything she touched was turning to shit. She tried focusing on her studies. She was in her second year at UC Berkeley; the time for fluctuating grades was over. But her Astro 10 lecturer had already picked her out for censure twice because of the distracted look she couldn't help. It had been her proximity to their home on Panoramic Hill which had made Laurel call her that day. Laurel practiced in San Francisco, and had opted to drive Mrs. Oderbelle to the hospital associated with her office. She had known Aria had no classes that day; she was only on campus to use the library facilities, so she had been able to leave for home and get there within a matter of minutes. She had already known what to expect by what Laurel had said. Her mouth had tightened as the older woman had sheepishly explained how she'd left her father, pleading for Aria to do her this 'huge one' and promising to lay off about her dress for the renewal. She'd accepted without need for duress though, but it hadn't been because she'd felt it was an opportunity for... things. She'd merely wanted to help her father. But when she'd come up to his bedroom door and seen him, chest bare and rippling unavoidably because of his position, the knowledge of what had been happening in that room, the kinkiness of it all, had seduced her into some sort of a trance where the incantation 'take him, take him' had played in her head like a subliminal message on a broken record. "You've been distracted all week. Mr. Hayes isn't the first to have noticed, just the first to say something about it. What's up with you?" Alex, her closest friend at school, had pushed herself into the lunch line before Aria. She squelched her face up at the bottle of water and yogurt Aria had on her tray. "Is that all you're having?" "I'm not very hungry today," she explained, hoping that by answering the last question first she could deflect. "Something is definitely wrong with you," Alex concluded then, making up her mind and going for the slice of pizza she'd been making goo-goo eyes at. Aria shook her head in wonder. Only Alex could have got at her answer in such a way. She would have to deflect some more. "Is that a fat joke?" She asked, insecurely picking up a bag of crisps and hoping her friend wouldn't notice if she crushed them in favor of eating them. Alex rolled her eyes. She was the least likely person to make such a joke. A journalism major, she made it her business to advocate for the rights of everything from pins to anchors. Also, weighing in at nearly two hundred pounds and fine with it, she thought little Aria with her 'two ounces' of baby fat was practically anorexic. "Is that a fat joke?" she quipped back, putting a smile on Aria's face. Aria felt her spirits lift a little around her friend. She needed this. This was good. She could handle this. In her classes, where no one was looking at her, where no one was really seeing her she could get lost between the words being thrown around. Whenever that happened she would be drowning in a sea of sorrow. Alex talking to her one on one was like a lifeline. With her Dad's malice, her regular avoidance of all things Laurel, and Claire being too young – and too like her mother – for Aria to want her company, she had found out that a man could indeed make himself an island. She spent the rest of her lunch with Alex and then resumed classes as well as her regular funk. When her day ended at two-thirty, as it did every Wednesday, she drove herself to the Cineplex and bought a ticket for their classic film series. They were showing A Place in the Sun, and at a running time of 122 minutes, it was the ticket surest to keep her away from home the longest. Inside the dark, almost empty cocoon of the amphitheatre she'd realized her mistake in picking a film with a lead whose cheekbones were structured much like her daddy's. From then on she'd faced just over two hours of pure hell. The movie finished and it was just after five. She was still flustered from the direction her thoughts had turned after the epic failure watching that movie had been. She'd been wet the entire time remembering how she'd kissed his chin, licked his cheek, and bitten his shoulder. So, she went to the bathroom, emptied her bladder, and refilled her slush before walking into another amphitheatre boasting some new Pixar flick. The brilliancy of her idea lay in the fact that the room was swarming with tiny tots who giggled at every cute talking animal; the lunacy was in how she'd neglected to see how little tykes watching movies with their fathers would correlate to her and her own sorry life. ***** Matthew Evanstone frowned over his last paragraph. He was writing complete shit; had been for days. He shut his laptop lid and yawned, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. He rolled his head to one side and then the next; slowly trying to work through the kinks he'd developed in his neck after being tied up for so long. He sighed in frustration for having, yet again, reminded himself of that evening. Still, it wasn't likely that he would ever forget. He checked his watch, it was nearly seven. He had a few minutes before Laurel would come with the announcement of dinner. He decided to spend that time washing away some of the excrement he'd been spewing out all morning. Most of it had been on paper, but he felt that if he sniffed hard enough... He switched the light off and shut the door of his study behind him. Detouring to the kitchen he stole a kiss on the back of Laurel's neck before she realized he was behind her. Claire giggled, having been co-conspirator to his sneak attacked as Laurel jumped from surprise. "Matt!" she scolded playfully. But she turned to give him a proper kiss and they lost their audience of one with a disgusted 'ugh' and an entreaty for them to find a room. He loved Laurel. She was so close to perfection he'd known on their first date he'd probably ask her to marry him if he ever asked anyone again. She was smart, beautiful, supportive, and kinky almost to a fault. He'd thought the last couple of months had been heaven incarnate. He had a hefty commission from his publishers, his girls had seemed to be, if not coming along spiffily, at least making a concerted effort. He'd realized soon that Aria had been the bent spoke in their wheel. Laurel wasn't blameless, what with her ornery insistence on everything being just so she was almost the natural enemy of a free spirit like Aria. But Aria had met Laurel's attempts, which, though intrusive and sometimes obnoxious, had come from a good place, with Aria-like malevolence. His daughter had never been mean, but when she chose to shut you out, you were shut out. Frosty politeness had been almost twice as caustic as straightforward dislike might have been. Laurel had tried, with her pushy 'I need to fix things' attitude which only ever served to drive the wedge deeper between her and Aria. He'd tried, many times, talking to them both separately and together. He tried to make them see that they just had different personalities, and while they might never be the best of friends, compromising could go a long way to ameliorating many of their problems with each other. But, such a cool, level calculation of the battles between his daughter and his wife had become indecipherable after what had happened the day Laurel had left him tied. "Dinner's almost done," she said as she relinquished his lips. "I was just about to come call you." He dipped his finger into the hot sauté pot and came away with sauce to taste and a clunk from a wooden spoon to nurse. He smiled at her; she'd caught him this time. "You're getting quicker," he teased. "No, you're getting more predictable." She threw her head back and laughed as she caught him on the knuckles again, making for the pot. The front door opened and closed and the two stopped short of their play, looking towards the hallway where any newcomers would invariably have to pass by. Aria came into view and, though he'd known it had to be her, had prepared himself for seeing her, his breath stuck in an upswing. She said a barely audible 'hello' from the doorway, stopping only as briefly as decency allowed and started off up the stairs. "Dinner's in ten minutes, Aria!" Laurel shouted after her. They exchanged a look, Laurel's plainly expressed frustration at the continued strain between her and her stepdaughter. Matthew tried his best to not convey any kind of expression. Laurel resumed her cooking but she had the general air of someone who hadn't done talking so he stuck around until she was ready to speak. "Has she bought her dress yet?" she asked, not looking at him. "She hasn't come to me for the money; I don't think so." How could she, when he'd been avoiding her like she was carrying something bubonic? "Well I think you should go give it to her." She looked at him over her shoulder though technically he was standing beside her. She always did that. It was a move he saw celebrities do on the red carpet when they took pictures. He figured she'd fixed enough of them for some of their habits to have stuck. "It would be a subtle way of reminding her that getting her dress this time is her responsibility." He sighed heavily. "I doubt she's forgotten. She fought hard enough for the right." Shit, wrong thing to say alert. He hastened to leave before he dug himself dirt any deeper. "I'm gonna take a quick shower before dinner. I'll give her the money later." It was a trick he used all the time when he had put his foot in his mouth. He capped off the beginning argument by conceding and knew that his concession would mean she wouldn't confront him about whatever unforgiveable thing he had said. If he'd left that last part off they'd have been arguing about it later and his quip that she'd been in the wrong would have come back to bite him where it would hurt. After his shower he headed back downstairs, passing Aria's locked door on the way. He saw the shadow of her moving around under the door and stopped unthinkingly. He really needed to talk to her. It wasn't healthy, not to mention unwise, to keep up this level of stagnation between them. If she had proved anything to him over the last few days it was that he didn't know her like he'd thought he did. She could be unpredictable, and if he didn't find out what was going on in that head of hers, and soon... The door flew open and Aria, dressed in grey sweatpants and an oversized UC Berkeley sweatshirt froze in the doorway. He inhaled deeply. She'd showered and washed her hair; had probably hurried to do it because her hair was still night dark from the wet and her clothes seemed particularly attached to her body. What manner of woman could display such a wealth of curves through ordinary, baggy sweats? Unwillingly, his hands recalled the feel of those curves; he clenched his fingers and he remembered how he'd held on to her hips. "Let's go," was all he could manage. He let her walk past him, counting to five before setting off after her. Downstairs they all sat at the dinner table mostly in silence. For the past couple of days he'd kept up conversation with Claire and Laurel so as to not make it obvious that anything was wrong. Normally, their dinners were like that anyway, with Aria quiet until someone specifically asked her about her day or something else. Tonight though, he couldn't keep up the pretense. The lovely dinner Laurel had prepared was in danger of going to waste because he couldn't force his food to share living quarters with the riotous twists and turns in his belly. His groin felt tight and heavy. Why was it so bad tonight? It was especially hard for him to forget... he'd touched her, kissed her... fucked her. "Honey, why aren't you eating?" Laurel asked, knitting up her brow with concern. He looked up, startled, wondering if she'd noticed that his eyes hadn't been focused on his plate but on Aria. She was barely eating too. A strand of still-damp hair had fallen over her shoulder and he'd been watching as she'd absent-mindedly brushed it back behind her ear. She'd turned her face slightly in the opposite direction to do this, and he'd been mesmerized for a second by the cut of her jaw. She'd lost weight, he noted; but then, she'd barely touched anything at dinner since the first night she'd kissed him. She probably didn't eat at school either. He felt suddenly ashamed of his behavior. All this time he'd been blaming her, and himself too, but he'd failed to think what all this must be doing to her. Did she feel sorry? What was going on in her head? She was so unhappy he should never have let so long pass without addressing their situation. He didn't think that she would do anything to hurt herself, but it certainly wouldn't be a bad idea for him to try to get through to her. He'd been so selfish wallowing in his guilt and his confusing feelings that he'd forgotten to be a parent. It didn't matter that that role had been superseded by other things. "Matthew?" Laurel called again. She looked really concerned now, and more than a little annoyed; Aria herself looked up this time. "I'm fine. I just... I don't have an appetite." What was he really apologizing for? He saw Laurel's look of confusion and knew the storm was coming. "Well, it would be nice for people to tell me when they plan on eating," she complained, rolling her eyes. "I could have just cooked for me and Claire." Matthew shot her an exasperated look. Aria had gone beet-red and Claire was staring far too intently at her plate. "I'm sorry, Laurel," he gave, hoping it would end there. "I mean, Aria's barely eaten anything I've prepared this entire week," Laurel continued as though she hadn't heard him. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, her head bent even lower. Maybe it was the contrition in her bowed head or the tone of her voice but something seemed to cool the fire burning behind Laurel's anger. She sighed heavily, reaching out and touching Aria gently on the shoulder. "It's ok," she decided, pulling her hand away when Aria sat up straight, invariably to avoid the contact. "It would just be nice to know. What are you on a diet?" Claire perked back up at this. Matthew wondered why Aria's weight was such an issue to everyone in the family except him and her. "You do look skinnier," Claire said. "You're trying to lose weight for a dress aren't you?" He watched Aria nod in agreement and knew it for what it was, a lie meant to put the issue at rest. But she should have known there was no end with the Stepford Twins. "That's marvelous," Laurel exclaimed. "Whatever you're doing just keep at it. You'll be surprised what a difference ten pounds can make." He had a nauseating feeling Laurel wouldn't be so encouraging if she knew what had motivated the weight loss. "I know what's up," Claire said, grinning teasingly that smile he'd always thought so impish. Now, he could see why it got on Aria's nerves. "Colin Creedy!" She said it as though it explained all. "Who's that?" Laurel asked, her interest definitely piqued. "Mr. McGulliver's stepson." She grinned unrepentantly at Aria who was shooting daggers at her across the table. "The boy she kissed at your wedding." Matthew felt his throat constrict. He looked back at Aria, waiting for her to deny it in a flash of temper. She only shrugged under his gaze. "Ooh," Laurel chimed in, sounding like all the things that were wrong with the modern world. "I never heard about this." "Me neither." He caught himself too late. He chomped down on his teeth so hard his jaw ticked. Luckily, he only sounded like an overprotective dad. That's all he was after all. "They were kissing outside while everyone was inside doing that stupid communal dance all adults seem to love doing at weddings." When Claire got a piece of news between her teeth, heaven help whomever it was about. "I bet she can't wait to kiss him again." It was the kind of teasing that couldn't be supported by a tenuous relationship like they had. Aria, as he'd expected she would, lost her temper and threw down her fork. "You're right," she agreed, the threat of certain death advertised in the clipped notes. "I can't wait." She looked between Claire and Laurel. "Is this what you want to hear?" Her eyes settled on him finally and he felt his heart kick up with dread. "I plan on fucking his brains out!" She stormed out of the room and ran noisily up the stairs. It wasn't at all what he'd expected her to say. He'd been expecting confessions of the damnable sort. But he still didn't like what he'd heard; not one damn bit. So angry he was seeing black he got up with the intention of finding out exactly what she meant by that last statement, but Laurel stopped him. "Hey, wait a few minutes." When she saw he wasn't prepared to wait seconds she said, "I'm not happy about her using that kind of language around Claire either, but you're too angry to butt heads with her now. One of you will likely have a heart attack and the other will be the cause of it." Even though she was wrong – so wrong – about the source of his anger, she did make sense. Aria and him arguing in these attitudes, with the secret between them being what it was, there was no telling what could erupt and burn down the entire world. He calmed down with a beer outside on the deck. The night air was unduly frosty for any time of year in California but it did wonders for calming him. Was he a complete fool; completely depraved and irredeemably changed by having sex with his daughter? He was jealous! She had kissed some snot-nosed punk at his wedding and he was jealous. He started wondering how many other boys she'd kissed. He'd been her first, but had there been others since? He hardly thought so, but one could never tell these days, especially since he had no clue where her head space was. But it really shouldn't matter. She was nineteen fucking years old. She could fuck whomever she wanted. As long as it wasn't him! He resisted the urge to break the empty beer bottle against the rail of the wooden deck. He took a few deep breaths and went back inside. Laurel was there, but she didn't say anything, just continued washing up. Claire must have gone up to her room because he didn't see her in the living room as he walked by. He marched up the stairs and stopped before Aria's door. He didn't knock, knowing she was expecting him. An outburst like that warranted some parental censure. But who was he to censure her anyway? 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 olds 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, I am a 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, or felt something 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 in his car. 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 in his car. 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 would never do 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?" Under Her Control Ch. 02 Her breath came back with her defense and she rushed to present it, to deny his accusation. "Dad I didn't..." "Don't lie to me!" he yelled, filling the car with his voice, replacing all the oxygen with acid rain. He turned quickly, frighteningly, and she jumped in her seat. Her fear seemed to call him back to his senses and he stopped short of actually touching her. But the look in his eyes... With a savage growl he tore his seatbelt off and flew out of the car. The slam of his door ricocheted through her and she started to shake as the tightly reined violence that was her father erupted into a scream that split the night. She wondered distantly how many of the people in the houses that glittered in the valley below had heard him. She was breathing heavily now, struggling for, but coming up short on enough air to satisfy her begging lungs. She was desperate to open her door but she wouldn't dare. She watched him, a corrosive blend of fear, fascination and fervor feeding her shivers and breathlessness. He had raged silently after the initial outburst and had been leaning onto the hood of the car, his hands in his head. Suddenly, he was up. And before she knew to panic further he was at her door, yanking it open, releasing her seatbelt and dragging her to her feet. He trapped her as he had trapped Colin miles before. Only this time he was much, much closer. She didn't dare look up at him, staring at the tie lying against the spot in his chest she knew to be slightly concave where his breastbone ended. She could feel his breath fall down her right cheek and land on her shoulder, could feel his fury – and shockingly his arousal – as he pressed ever deeper into her. He had her pinned to the car, trapped between his hands on the roof behind her. He whispered into her ear. "Did you fuck him?" She shuddered in a breath and realized she hadn't breathed since he'd pulled her out of the car. She didn't hesitate this time. "No." She wished she sounded firmer, less like a puddle of nerves and fears. "Where you going to?" he asked. She gulped before answering, not wanting to anger him by making him wait. "I don't know." She couldn't believe her own ears. Why the hell had she said that when the answer in her brain had been no? She thought she was about to pass out from fright when he pulled back deliberately, looking down at her. She felt the car rock behind her as he pushed against it. "Wrong answer!" he stormed. "I swear to God, Aria, if you see him again... I will kill you." She looked up at him in disbelief, mouth gaping open with shock at his threat. In that vulnerable position he kissed her, striking the gold-rich hills and valleys of her mouth, finishing their battle with their tongues. It was frantic and wild. He was hiking her dress up around her hips almost as suddenly as their lips had touched. He gripped her panties in his fist and tugged, ripping it away from her in a miniature representation of the violent lust that drove him. He slipped two fingers into her, not letting go of her mouth, and absorbed the cry she was powerless to squelch. She flooded his hand with her eagerness and happily drank in his sounds of appreciation. This was what they were meant to be, this is how it was meant for them. The weeks they'd spent dancing daintily around each other had been denials of the gift of unparalleled passion nature had given them as father and daughter. She felt herself coming even as he replaced his hand with his cock. In the back of her mind she figured he'd only lowered his zipper, she knew she hadn't heard his belt pull. But thoughts of logistics and inconsequentials left her as he found his way home inside her. She cried out, throwing her head back against the car. "You're mine," he said to her as he drove her wild driving into her. "Mine... say it." She sobbed with a pleasure that was pain for all they were doing, all they were risking, all they were gaining. "Yours." She shuddered as her release rolled into a tight, insistent ball. "I'm all yours, Daddy. Daddy... Daddyyyyy!" She came, hurtling around him; so dazed she didn't notice when he propped her left leg up inside the open car. He fucked her desperately, using the cock which had built her to rebuild her entire world from the inside out. Never did she stop coming, all over him. He knew his pants were ruined, he knew he wouldn't be able to explain it, and he knew he wouldn't care. As he exploded in her his imaginative brain conjured up a story in which, nineteen years ago, his busy little builder sperm had set forth on a maiden voyage to create their own perfect home. The ultimate explorer had established a temporary base inside a willing mother who had nurtured him until his own home planet had been born. Now, millions of his brothers, long denied entry into the world that had been made for them because of the shackles of propriety were finally coming home. He sagged against her and smiled as she showered him with adoring little kisses. He pushed up inside her even further though everything was done, everything was spent. But he was reluctant to have the greatest sensations of his life abate. He was in love with feeling her around him; he was in love with her. "Daddy?" she whispered brokenly. "Mine," he reassured her, knowing instinctively what she'd been afraid to voice. This was no one-time aberration. He wasn't going to guilt her, or himself, as he'd done the time before. If everything else in his life had to give for him to have this... "Mine," he repeated, taking her tongue into his mouth and sealing his vow with a kiss. He was worried; there was no questioning that. He was wondering how he was going to explain his absence for so long, how he would explain changing his suit – which he knew without having to look that he must. But mostly, he was wondering how he was going to keep Aria a secret; if he was going to keep her a secret. There was one thing he knew for certain, as he kissed his daughter, his lover, his life under the stars up on Degan's Point, she was his... and he was going to keep her. The End Well, there you have it. I'm very glad to have been able to put this fantasy down on paper finally. I swear, I've been marauded by thoughts of their story for years. I just hope I wasn't too anxious to get it out that I failed to write the best rendition possible. Thank you to all who have read it, and my other work. Thank you so much for your votes and especially for your comments; you have no idea how hearing about your appreciation thrills me. Even years later a new comment on an old story makes me want to write again. There is also another idea I have tugging away at my attention. This story and a previous one 'Beyond His Control' might be part of a series. I'm thinking to introduce one other family in the next story tentatively called "Out of Control" and maybe tying all three couples together in the finale of my 'Control' series. We'll see what happens. Lots of love... among other things.