Please note that this is my first story, and candid feedback is greatly appreciated. This story is based on my own experiences with my stepfather. All persons involved are/were 18 or older.
"When did you get home?"
I finished setting down my bookbag and looked up at him carefully. Even as I tried to will it away, tension simmered between us.
"Just now -- we had a half day today."
My stepfather nodded absently, and for a moment he looked ready to turn and leave, but then he fixed his gaze on me again. I felt his eyes undressing me. The entire house was perfectly quiet for a few long moments -- me standing by the dining room table, him standing at the back door. Finally, he tilted his chin in a gesture for me to follow him, and disappeared outside before I could ask any questions.
"I want to show you something" he explained. I waited anxiously as he unlocked the detached garage that served as his home office, then followed him inside.
I had only been in a handful of times over the years, but the room had a vague sense of familiarity. To the right there was a formidable mahogany desk, and to the left a large couch with matching end tables. Underpinning it all was a plush red carpet with a fine pattern woven throughout. I watched as my stepfather strode across the room and reached behind his desk. For a man in his 50s or so, he was in decent shape -- his muscles were subtly visible beneath his shirt, and his hair was notably touched with grey, but he was no less handsome for it.
When he turned around, I noticed that he had a bottle of wine in his hand. I was only 18, and while I had experimented with the occasional drink at a party, my experience with alcohol was limited.
"A client gifted this, and I thought you'd like to try it with me."
The words sprang almost immediately to my lips, "I -- I'm too young to drink, I can't", but my feet were trying to act even faster. I went to take two steps backward, and as I did, my stepfather grabbed me by my wrist. The sudden contrast in movements caused me to stumble toward him, and before I could get out another word, he was escorting me over to the couch.
I felt his eyes on me once again as I sank into the comfortable leather, and he sat down slowly beside me. An expression crossed his lips that was half smile, half smirk as he produced two glasses and poured a serving of wine into each.
"I know your mother is pretty strict about this sort of thing, but you can have a little fun with me."
I nodded stiffly and took the glass he offered, then watched him take a long sip from his own. "Go on, give it a try" he coaxed. "It's champagne. Do you know what that means?"
I took a tentative drink, and then another. It tasted bubbly and sweet.
"Um, I think that means it's carbonated?"
He smiled at me across the rim of his glass as he swished his drink around. Perhaps my ignorance was endearing.
"It means that it's a sparkling wine made in the Champagne region of France. There're certain viticulture practices they use to make this type of wine especially."
I nodded again and gave a soft "oh" as the bubbles in my beverage began travelling to my brain.