Linc walked through the hotel room door, only pausing briefly on the threshold to compose himself. A brief scan of the small room showed Alex to be absent, and a similar look into the bathroom proved it empty as well. The lackluster walls seemed to emanate emptiness, seemed to give off a faint aura of abandonment that echoed the feelings banging around in Linc's heart, both feelings for himself and for Alex.
Maybe she had left in his absence, realized her only hope lay in a washed up cop and decided to try her luck out in the open. He didn't know if she stood more of a chance or less of one, but the thought of not having her in his life, the thought of no longer being responsible for her safety, filled him with both a sense of panic and regretful ease. He thought of the woman next door, a dark presence barely separated from him by tissue thin walls and paisley wallpaper. Could he run too? Follow Alex, at least in spirit, make a break for it? He didn't know if she would be able to find him, at least, he optimistically told himself he didn't know, but he knew for sure that as much as it filled his gut with acid to think about facing her again, a life not knowing which corner she could be around would be worse. His perceptions had radically changed in the last twenty-four hours, and he knew he couldn't go back to a life filled with murder-suicides and muggings now that he had seen the true outskirts of evil. The possibilities that had appeared, the numbers of nightmares kids see under their beds or poking out of closets, the fact that Linc didn't know which of those were
imaginary
any more, meant his life somewhat resembled a cave that had just recently had full halogen lighting installed.
"What are you doing?"
He jumped at the sound of Alex's voice and spun to face her in the motel doorway. She was back in her schoolgirl outfit, which really shouldn't have surprised him, since now it was essentially all she owned. Decoratively tucked under her arm was a bottle of cheap wine and what looked to be bags of sandwiches. She smiled brightly at him, and for some reason he felt a twinge of bitterness that she could still smile with all the pain he felt.
"I brought us some dinner. How did it go?"
"It...the club? They were...closed. I don't think there'd be any leads there anyway."
She frowned a bit as she unwrapped the sandwiches, but apparently decided to let it go.
"I didn't know what you liked, so I got a plain ham and cheese."
He picked up the bottle of wine and gave her a look. She gave it right back.
"The clerk was cute, and didn't ID. Advantages to having boobs."
He felt something clench inside of him, and told himself that it was that she was underage and drinking and not that she thought someone else on Earth was cute. The events of the day had put him in a sour mood, and despite his efforts to hold it back, he could feel it icily creeping into his voice as he spoke.
"I'm surprised. Wearing that, you look like you're 12."
Her head snapped up at him, more at his tone than his words, and he cast his eyes downward. The frown that creased her forehead eased slightly and a playful smile replaced it. She put the sandwiches down and moved over to him.
"12? Really..."
Her hands moved up his sides, under his jacket, and his breath caught in his throat.
"Do you really think I look 12?"
Tracing patterns, her soft hands darted to the small of his back and then returned to his front, teasing around the tops of his jeans. He tried to find words, but nothing particularly witty would come to mind.
"No...at least...15..."
Alex smiled again, and her hands moved up over his chest, lightly brushing his nipples. Tipping her lips up to him, she balanced herself on her tiptoes, hands tight on his shoulders underneath his jacket. Her voice was soft in his ear, more suggestion than actual sound.
"Are you sure? I could be young if you want, could be your little girl..."
Nails, tracing down his sides to his belt, slowly.
"...I could be innocent... be your little virgin..."
A tongue, softly licking his earlobe, making way for teeth to slowly nibble and caress.
"...I could call you mister..."
The closeness of her breasts, her full blouse rubbing against his own chest, hard nipples poking almost as if her bra wasn't there.
"...I could call you sir..."
A hand now, slipping down, gripping his rock hard penis through the thick material of his jeans, sending lightning bolts of electricity shooting along his body.
"...I could call you..."
A final whispered word, quieter than the rest, almost a vibration against his ear: "...daddy..."
A flash through his mind of the events of the day, and suddenly it was gone, and he was there, grabbing her and spinning her, pressing her up against the wall, face pushed into the same thin wallpaper he had been contemplating only minutes earlier.
"Is that what you want?" he whispered back. "You want to be daddy's little girl?"
Her eyes were closed, mouth slightly parted, and she gave a weak nod. Mind gone already, focusing on a sharper state of being, one that emanated wholly from her stomach, from her spine, from her nipples, from between her legs, like waves cascading off a shore. His hand was pressed hard into her neck, a cop move actually, and his other hand had both her wrists pinned to her back. The plaid skirt had caught slightly when he shoved her, hiked up just the slightest bit, and he could just see the hint of her cute ass poking out from underneath her captured hands. Still holding her from behind by her neck, he used his other hand to trace up her calf, slowly. Free, her own hands pushed against the wall, expressing everything her mouth wouldn't, scratching at the wallpaper like it held the secret to her desire beneath its pale hue. His hand reached her thigh, the soft flesh, and he traced a single finger upwards, to the warmth there, past it, sliding feather light between her ass cheeks, barely putting pressure as he lifted her skirt up a little higher.
"Say it," he breathed.
She remained quiet, mouth open in silent moan, as he gently glided his fingers back down towards her moistening lips. Without warning his hand shot lower, smacking the soft skin below with a sharp slap. She whimpered, eyes still closed, but there was something else there as well, something underneath the pain, an underlying wanting. This wasn't the tender love they had made just hours earlier. This was another side of the same coin, want mixed with need, lust spliced into love.
"Say it," he repeated.
"Oh...oh, god..."
It came down again, harder, her pale skin turning red already.
"Say...it..."
"Oh...oh daddy..."
His fingers shot up, not teasing her anymore, plunging past her panties and into her with no resistance at all. Her voice peaked, half moan, half shriek, and he began to slide his fingers in and out of her.
"Oh my god...daddy...daddy... oh god yes..."
He felt her shaking, felt her orgasm coming, and placed another two fingers in her, replacing his soft pace with a faster, harder one. Her ass rocked back to meet his fingers, her moans bouncing off the walls to reach his ears.