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08 Şubat 2024, 14:26
This is the last published short for my Taboo Holiday Collection. All others will be new and released on or around the first of the month their holiday falls in. Again, no promises I'll make every holiday in the same year, but I'll try.
Note: This story includes elements of BDSM and possessiveness. It also briefly mentions the topic of sexual assault, though not pertaining the Main Characters. Trigger warnings apply.
This story is copyrighted by Mia Eris and may not be copied or reproduced in any way without the express written permission of the author.
All characters in this story are 18 years of age and all sex is 100% consensual.
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
4.</p>
Yes, Sir</p>
Max squeezed her way through the dense crowd: hundreds of GIs and military brats taking advantage of the long Memorial Day weekend to party. The annual bender was taking place at the lake on their joint base. Rented cabins tucked into the woods surrounded a massive body of water that had been filled with speedboats, inner tubes, and jet skis all day.
Now, the sun was down. The music was loud, bonfires were lit, and alcohol poured nonstop. Each cabin had started out throwing its own separate party, but it was approaching midnight, so they'd all merged into one. People didn't congregate for long before staggering off to check out the selections of alcohol, leftover barbecue, and potential hookups elsewhere.
It had been a full-on rebellion for Max to even show up, let alone with the asshole she now couldn't find. Her uncle had forbidden her from stepping foot anywhere near the lake. Even though she'd claimed to be going with a friend, which had been a safe lie because she'd known Cynthia would be there.
Max hadn't dared mention Taylor's name when she'd still been hoping for a yes. Not just because he was a guy with a playboy reputation that her uncle had repeatedly told her to stay the fuck away from, but the fact that he was Air Force instead of Army. That was a cardinal sin in the book of Ryder Delacroix?among many other things.
It didn't matter that Max was approaching her twentieth birthday. She still lived under her uncle's roof, so his rules were law. They were in a constant battle of wills, yet it wasn't just from her desire for more independence. There was another unspoken war they'd been waging against themselves as much as each other, and she was growing weary of it.
"Max!" Cynthia's slurred outburst found her before the blond's arms cut through the crowd to loop drunkenly around her neck. "Oh, my god, I love you."
Max chuckled. "You love everyone when you're drunk, Cyn," she pointed out.
Her friend grinned, lifted her beer to toast her, and hiccuped. "Where's your sexy pilot? I thought I saw him earlier, hanging out with the rest of the pretty boys."
"That's who I'm looking for," Max answered. "Where did you see him?"
"Um..." Cynthia peered around with one squinted eye.
Max laughed again and shook her head. "Never mind, I'll find him."
"So, what's going on with you and your hot ass uncle?" Cynthia blurted.
It wasn't a question she ever would've asked while sober, so it caught Max off guard, causing her muscles to stiffen.
"What do you mean?"
She can't know. No one could possibly know. Right?
Cynthia laughed. "Oh, come on, there's all kinds of tension going on there," she said, wagging her brows. "Of the sexual nature."
It was hard for Max not to laugh at her friend's drunken expression, but her heart was racing.
"Now, I know you're drunk," she said, avoiding Cynthia's gaze by pretending to still look around for Taylor. "The only tension between us is that he still treats me like a kid when I'm not."
"Do you have to salute him with a 'Yes, Drill Sergeant' every time he barks out an order?" Cynthia asked through another hiccup while giving a mock salute.
"No, you drunk ass," she laughed off, though it sounded hollow and forced even to her ears.
Max's insides grew warm and tingly when her mind automatically turned Cynthia's question into a shameful, erotic image the way it always did when it came to her uncle's intense authority.
"I would," Cynthia purred. "That man could order me around any day of the week."
Unexpected jealousy seared right through Max, and she nearly shoved Cynthia off of her but realized that would give everything away. Her shameful feelings and the very real sexual tension between her and Uncle Ryder. Which had obviously gotten so bad, her friends were starting to pick up on it.
Shit, that's not good.
It would be bad enough if they were civilians, but her uncle would face some serious backlash if rumors started going around, even though they hadn't done anything wrong.
Not yet, anyway.
Max shoved that depraved thought aside and looked nurdağı escort (http://www.gaziantepgazetesi.com/kategori/nurdagi-escort) at Cynthia. "I'm going to find Taylor. You might want to lay off the beer and smut novels."
Cynthia merely snickered and waved her off.
Still bristling somewhat over her friend's salacious designs on her uncle, Max made her way around another bonfire to keep up her search. She didn't even know why she was looking, honestly. The only reason she'd accepted Taylor's invitation was to piss her uncle off, not to actually give him what he wanted.
She had no intentions of ever sleeping with Taylor. His man-whoring ways were too well known, and Max had no desire to catch some venereal disease because half the city's population had already given his joystick a whirl.
She was just tired of the cat and mouse game between her and Uncle Ryder. They'd been playing it for too long, and it had only gotten worse with time, not better. Max knew, wholeheartedly, why her uncle fought it. She'd been trying to do the same, but there was undeniable chemistry that threatened to burn up the atmosphere every time they came near each other. Considering they lived under the same roof, that was more often than not.
Maybe it was wrong of her, but Max wanted to push him over the edge. She wanted him to finally snap and do something instead of just issuing threats and commands. The Drill Sergeant routine was getting old, especially when she knew he was only using it as a shield against his real desires.
Max spotted some of Taylor's friends on one of the cabin's front porches and headed toward them. She could never remember their names because it wasn't like they hung out much. The handful of times she'd been able to sneak off with Taylor, it had always been a prearranged date. No matter how frequently Taylor tried talking her into hanging out in his barracks room, she'd always insisted they go somewhere public.
Taylor thought she was playing hard to get. He had no idea the real reason was that Max had been secretly hoping her uncle would catch them and come unglued. She didn't feel bad at all using Taylor. He totally planned on using her for sex, then ditching her the same way he ditched every other girl.
Just as Max was crossing the threshold into the cabin, she heard one of Taylor's friends utter under his breath behind her.
"Oh, shit."
Her shoulders tensed. Had they been tasked with keeping a lookout while Taylor hooked up with someone else? Most likely. Rather than being hurt or angry, she was completely prepared for what she might find, walking through the cabin toward the rooms.
Sure enough, the sound of Taylor's voice reached her ears as she headed down the short hall, followed by a woman's laugh.
Max opened the door without hesitation, finding Taylor between the legs of some redhead with his cock in hand, ready to plow in. The girl yelped and covered her exposed nudity, but Max just gave Taylor's shocked face a dry look.
"You're pathetic, Taylor," she stated and pulled the door closed again, turning away to head back out to the front porch.
"Maybe if you put out, I wouldn't have to be!" he shouted after her, but she couldn't care less.
Max paused and eyed his so-called friends with the same dry expression. "You guys might want to practice your guard duty skills. Oh, and I wouldn't recommend touching anything after he's been inside of it."
Continuing off the porch, she headed away from the party, following the worn dirt path to the large gravel parking lot. Once she was on the other side of all the cars, Max dug her cellphone out of the back pocket of her denim skirt.
Her thumb hovered over her uncle's number as anticipation and ingrained fear coursed through her. No matter what happened, she was going to be in trouble. She'd broken the rules, purposely disobeyed his order not to go to the party, and had lied about who she was with.
There would be no escaping the consequences, but that was why she felt anxious because a part of her didn't want to. Max pressed the call button and put the phone to her ear, listening to it ring.
She imagined most girls made the same call much earlier in their lives: teenagers calling their dads to rescue them from somewhere they weren't supposed to be. But Max had no idea who her dad was.
Her mom had always claimed that she'd had one night of drunken stupidity that she couldn't remember the details of, and Max had been the result. Max suspected there was more to the story than that because her mom had never bonded with her. She hadn't even tried.
Both her mom and uncle were active-duty soldiers, and for as long as she could remember, they'd always lived together. When Max had been younger, her uncle had been the one overseas most of the time. Then, he became a Drill Sergeant, and her mom had practically jumped on the first plane out of the country.
It had pretty much been just Max and her uncle for the past seven years. Her mom nurdağı escort bayan (http://www.gaziantepgazetesi.com/kategori/nurdagi-escort) was always gone, volunteering to stay right in the heart of battle because she preferred getting shot at than facing the daughter she'd never wanted.
Max frowned when she got Uncle Ryder's voicemail. He always picked up. She couldn't recall an instance when he'd failed to answer one of her calls unless he'd been at work. When the beep sounded after his short, professional greeting, she sucked in a breath and sighed.
"So, I did that thing you told me not to," she confessed. "And now Cynthia's totally wasted, and I don't have a ride home. I know you're pissed, but please don't leave me stranded here. I promise I didn't break any of your other stupid rules."
Aggravated, she disconnected and glanced at the time. It was a quarter to one, but after years in the military, her uncle was the epitome of a light sleeper. He wasn't a heavy drinker, either. Max had never once seen him buzzed, let alone drunk.
Without warning, someone grabbed her from behind. A hand clapped over her mouth, and a strong arm pinned her arms down. When Max tried to struggle, she was pulled tighter into the unyielding wall of a male body.
"You're such a little fucking liar," Uncle Ryder's voice hissed in her ear, sending a volatile collision of reactions through her. Lust, fear, longing, dread. Her heart galloped wildly. "You think I didn't see you with that pussy ass flyboy?"
Wait, what? Max's mind raced just as fast as her pulse. He'd been watching her the whole time?
More conflicted emotions tumbled through her, but there was no denying the most powerful ones, which had hot anticipation sparking between her legs.
"What did I tell you would happen if I ever found out you were with him again?" Uncle Ryder asked, his voice dangerously low.
He would bust her ass. That's what he'd said, but surely that had just been an empty threat, right? He'd never laid a hand on her, not even when Max had been at her worst. Uncle Ryder was skilled at discipline and didn't need to use physical reprimands to get his point across. He knew exactly how to make her regret her choices without them.
Unable to answer with his hand still clamped firmly over her mouth, all she could do was heave breaths through her nose and stare wide-eyed into the darkness.
"We're going to take a short trip, and you're going to keep your mouth shut until I tell you to speak, do you hear me?" he warned. "If you don't, your punishment will only be worse."
Without waiting for Max to agree, he started leading her around the bend of trees that lined the parking lot. Uncle Ryder kept his hand anchored on the back of her neck. His other hand gripped her waist, despite walking beside her. Knowing how quickly he'd be able to subdue her, she kept her mouth closed, but so many questions were circling her mind.
It was so dark that she couldn't even make out his truck until they were almost upon it. The trees blocked all of the lights from the cabins and bonfires further up the side of the lake. Uncle Ryder opened the passenger door and all but hefted her up onto the seat before closing it again. Max's fingers twisted together in her lap as he climbed up behind the steering wheel. Before he closed his door, she could see the formidable darkness swirling in his steel-gray eyes under the dome light, warning her to remain silent.
He was too attractive. His body was unfairly proportioned; perfect in every damn way. The BDUs he had to wear for work every day only amplified that, rather than camouflaging it. Currently, he wore only a black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. His hair had always appeared brown to her, dark enough to make his eyes stand out. Yet the tips would glint gold in certain lighting as if they might grow into dirty blond locks if he didn't have to get regular haircuts.
Starting the truck, Max's uncle followed the rough dirt road that edged that end of the lake. Rather than continuing to the main paved road, he veered right when it forked and started following along the other bank. That end of the lake was the narrowest, though still too wide to cross without a boat. About two miles out, the lake opened up even more, the two sides curving away from each other in opposite directions.
Max clung to the seat as the truck bounced and dipped into ruts, jostling them no matter how careful her uncle was driving. When he pulled off the road, taking a narrow, short driveway to a dark cabin, she looked at him with wide eyes.
He had to have pulled rank to get it on such short notice. Either that or he'd booked it way in advance as if he'd somehow predicted that Max would fuck up. Again.
Uncle Ryder merely gave her the same warning look and parked the truck, shutting the engine off.
"Inside," he ordered.
Max had to bite her tongue to keep from blurting her questions. Grabbing the handle, she opened the door and climbed out, biding escort nurdağı (http://www.gaziantepgazetesi.com/kategori/nurdagi-escort) her time. As much as she'd wanted the situation, defiance still rose inside her from being treated like a child. She was a grown-ass adult now. His bullshit needed to stop.
She couldn't miss the chair angled to face the lake when she stomped up the steps to the covered porch. A pair of binoculars was on the seat, confirming that he'd been watching her. Max's heart lurched, and she looked up to see that he had a clear view through the trees to the other side of the water. The bonfires and lights inside the cabins illuminated all the people still partying, even though she couldn't make out individual features from that distance. Her uncle would've been able to see everything with his military-grade binoculars.
"So, you're a stalker now?" she shot, forgetting her no-speaking rule already.
Her uncle crowded her, backing her into the wall next to the door. "I said get inside," he repeated sternly.
Max felt for the knob and turned it, opening the door before looking away from him and entering the cabin. It was pitch black for a second, but her uncle flicked on the lights when he walked in behind her. Lamps on end tables lit up, casting a warm glow in the small living room. There was only one small couch and an armchair, aside from the coffee and end tables.
The sofa faced a cast iron wood stove to the left, and a small kitchenette stood along the back wall with a narrow island counter separating the two rooms. A hallway cut past the right side of the kitchen, and she could make out two doorways in the shadows. Most likely a bedroom and a bathroom.
The front door closed with a resounding thud that had Max's nerves rattling to the surface. Still, she turned to face her uncle, feeling marginally safer with the ability to see what he was doing?or about to do.
"You just can't seem to follow any rules, Maxine," he said, stalking toward her. "You go to a party I explicitly told you not to, with the one fucker I told you to stay the hell away from, and now you speak when I told you to keep your damn mouth shut."
"This is ridiculous," Max laughed humorlessly. "I am an adult. I'm almost twenty years old!"
"Do we really need to go over that again?" he countered. "If you don't like the way things are, you're free to move out at any time."
The predatory flash in his eyes contradicted his words, warning her not to even think about it. Max still recalled when that same statement used to accompany a look of pleading from him as if he'd secretly prayed she'd leave and put him out of his misery. She'd expected him to kick her out on more than one occasion, but he never had.
"You're a dictator, not an uncle," she fumed. "You don't give two shits about me. All you care about is having complete control over someone else's life. Might as well be mine, right?"
Uncle Ryder was right in front of her in a flash. He towered over her so dangerously, her body seized, freezing her to the spot. His eyes impaled hers, the muscles working furiously in the back of his jaw.
"Do you know what happens at parties like that?" he demanded heatedly, pointing toward the covered windows. "Exactly what happened to your mother. I know you know what that was, Max. You're too fucking smart not to have figured it out by now. Is that what you want? To be gang-raped and left pregnant, not even knowing who the father of your baby is?"
Tears burned in her eyes and the back of her throat from her uncle's harsh words. It didn't matter that she'd already figured it out; hearing them spoken aloud was still like a punch to her chest.
"I'm not my mother," she seethed. "I don't even drink."
"That's not the point," he continued in the same tone. "Do you think they give a shit if you're drunk? You're a buck-twenty at best. Most of those guys are bench-pressing double that on a daily basis. You're too..."
"What?" she demanded angrily. "Too young? Too gullible?"
"You're too fucking gorgeous for your own damn good, that's what," he flared. "Especially when that body is attached to that fucking mouth."
Max was taken aback and completely confused. Had that been a compliment or a dis?
"What does that even mean?" she asked.
"It means you have a way of pushing a man's buttons, little girl," he growled, inching closer, not that there was much space left. "Your attitude begs for adjustment. And there are men out there all too willing to do that without a shred of decency or kindness."
"And you would?" she pushed.
"Have I ever hurt you?" he asked. "Have I ever done anything to you that you didn't bring about yourself?on purpose?just to piss me off?"
Max swallowed because the answer to that was a big fat no. He hadn't. He might be intense, controlling, and entirely way too overprotective to be healthy, but he'd never been cruel. That didn't change the main problem, though.
"You have to stop treating me like a little kid," she stated.
"My rules are to protect you," he argued.
"From living? Would you have followed your rules at my age?" she countered. "Have you ever considered that I only fight you so much because of them? That maybe if you treated me like the adult I am, then I wouldn't need to piss you off by doing things you want to protect me from?"
Note: This story includes elements of BDSM and possessiveness. It also briefly mentions the topic of sexual assault, though not pertaining the Main Characters. Trigger warnings apply.
This story is copyrighted by Mia Eris and may not be copied or reproduced in any way without the express written permission of the author.
All characters in this story are 18 years of age and all sex is 100% consensual.
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
4.</p>
Yes, Sir</p>
Max squeezed her way through the dense crowd: hundreds of GIs and military brats taking advantage of the long Memorial Day weekend to party. The annual bender was taking place at the lake on their joint base. Rented cabins tucked into the woods surrounded a massive body of water that had been filled with speedboats, inner tubes, and jet skis all day.
Now, the sun was down. The music was loud, bonfires were lit, and alcohol poured nonstop. Each cabin had started out throwing its own separate party, but it was approaching midnight, so they'd all merged into one. People didn't congregate for long before staggering off to check out the selections of alcohol, leftover barbecue, and potential hookups elsewhere.
It had been a full-on rebellion for Max to even show up, let alone with the asshole she now couldn't find. Her uncle had forbidden her from stepping foot anywhere near the lake. Even though she'd claimed to be going with a friend, which had been a safe lie because she'd known Cynthia would be there.
Max hadn't dared mention Taylor's name when she'd still been hoping for a yes. Not just because he was a guy with a playboy reputation that her uncle had repeatedly told her to stay the fuck away from, but the fact that he was Air Force instead of Army. That was a cardinal sin in the book of Ryder Delacroix?among many other things.
It didn't matter that Max was approaching her twentieth birthday. She still lived under her uncle's roof, so his rules were law. They were in a constant battle of wills, yet it wasn't just from her desire for more independence. There was another unspoken war they'd been waging against themselves as much as each other, and she was growing weary of it.
"Max!" Cynthia's slurred outburst found her before the blond's arms cut through the crowd to loop drunkenly around her neck. "Oh, my god, I love you."
Max chuckled. "You love everyone when you're drunk, Cyn," she pointed out.
Her friend grinned, lifted her beer to toast her, and hiccuped. "Where's your sexy pilot? I thought I saw him earlier, hanging out with the rest of the pretty boys."
"That's who I'm looking for," Max answered. "Where did you see him?"
"Um..." Cynthia peered around with one squinted eye.
Max laughed again and shook her head. "Never mind, I'll find him."
"So, what's going on with you and your hot ass uncle?" Cynthia blurted.
It wasn't a question she ever would've asked while sober, so it caught Max off guard, causing her muscles to stiffen.
"What do you mean?"
She can't know. No one could possibly know. Right?
Cynthia laughed. "Oh, come on, there's all kinds of tension going on there," she said, wagging her brows. "Of the sexual nature."
It was hard for Max not to laugh at her friend's drunken expression, but her heart was racing.
"Now, I know you're drunk," she said, avoiding Cynthia's gaze by pretending to still look around for Taylor. "The only tension between us is that he still treats me like a kid when I'm not."
"Do you have to salute him with a 'Yes, Drill Sergeant' every time he barks out an order?" Cynthia asked through another hiccup while giving a mock salute.
"No, you drunk ass," she laughed off, though it sounded hollow and forced even to her ears.
Max's insides grew warm and tingly when her mind automatically turned Cynthia's question into a shameful, erotic image the way it always did when it came to her uncle's intense authority.
"I would," Cynthia purred. "That man could order me around any day of the week."
Unexpected jealousy seared right through Max, and she nearly shoved Cynthia off of her but realized that would give everything away. Her shameful feelings and the very real sexual tension between her and Uncle Ryder. Which had obviously gotten so bad, her friends were starting to pick up on it.
Shit, that's not good.
It would be bad enough if they were civilians, but her uncle would face some serious backlash if rumors started going around, even though they hadn't done anything wrong.
Not yet, anyway.
Max shoved that depraved thought aside and looked nurdağı escort (http://www.gaziantepgazetesi.com/kategori/nurdagi-escort) at Cynthia. "I'm going to find Taylor. You might want to lay off the beer and smut novels."
Cynthia merely snickered and waved her off.
Still bristling somewhat over her friend's salacious designs on her uncle, Max made her way around another bonfire to keep up her search. She didn't even know why she was looking, honestly. The only reason she'd accepted Taylor's invitation was to piss her uncle off, not to actually give him what he wanted.
She had no intentions of ever sleeping with Taylor. His man-whoring ways were too well known, and Max had no desire to catch some venereal disease because half the city's population had already given his joystick a whirl.
She was just tired of the cat and mouse game between her and Uncle Ryder. They'd been playing it for too long, and it had only gotten worse with time, not better. Max knew, wholeheartedly, why her uncle fought it. She'd been trying to do the same, but there was undeniable chemistry that threatened to burn up the atmosphere every time they came near each other. Considering they lived under the same roof, that was more often than not.
Maybe it was wrong of her, but Max wanted to push him over the edge. She wanted him to finally snap and do something instead of just issuing threats and commands. The Drill Sergeant routine was getting old, especially when she knew he was only using it as a shield against his real desires.
Max spotted some of Taylor's friends on one of the cabin's front porches and headed toward them. She could never remember their names because it wasn't like they hung out much. The handful of times she'd been able to sneak off with Taylor, it had always been a prearranged date. No matter how frequently Taylor tried talking her into hanging out in his barracks room, she'd always insisted they go somewhere public.
Taylor thought she was playing hard to get. He had no idea the real reason was that Max had been secretly hoping her uncle would catch them and come unglued. She didn't feel bad at all using Taylor. He totally planned on using her for sex, then ditching her the same way he ditched every other girl.
Just as Max was crossing the threshold into the cabin, she heard one of Taylor's friends utter under his breath behind her.
"Oh, shit."
Her shoulders tensed. Had they been tasked with keeping a lookout while Taylor hooked up with someone else? Most likely. Rather than being hurt or angry, she was completely prepared for what she might find, walking through the cabin toward the rooms.
Sure enough, the sound of Taylor's voice reached her ears as she headed down the short hall, followed by a woman's laugh.
Max opened the door without hesitation, finding Taylor between the legs of some redhead with his cock in hand, ready to plow in. The girl yelped and covered her exposed nudity, but Max just gave Taylor's shocked face a dry look.
"You're pathetic, Taylor," she stated and pulled the door closed again, turning away to head back out to the front porch.
"Maybe if you put out, I wouldn't have to be!" he shouted after her, but she couldn't care less.
Max paused and eyed his so-called friends with the same dry expression. "You guys might want to practice your guard duty skills. Oh, and I wouldn't recommend touching anything after he's been inside of it."
Continuing off the porch, she headed away from the party, following the worn dirt path to the large gravel parking lot. Once she was on the other side of all the cars, Max dug her cellphone out of the back pocket of her denim skirt.
Her thumb hovered over her uncle's number as anticipation and ingrained fear coursed through her. No matter what happened, she was going to be in trouble. She'd broken the rules, purposely disobeyed his order not to go to the party, and had lied about who she was with.
There would be no escaping the consequences, but that was why she felt anxious because a part of her didn't want to. Max pressed the call button and put the phone to her ear, listening to it ring.
She imagined most girls made the same call much earlier in their lives: teenagers calling their dads to rescue them from somewhere they weren't supposed to be. But Max had no idea who her dad was.
Her mom had always claimed that she'd had one night of drunken stupidity that she couldn't remember the details of, and Max had been the result. Max suspected there was more to the story than that because her mom had never bonded with her. She hadn't even tried.
Both her mom and uncle were active-duty soldiers, and for as long as she could remember, they'd always lived together. When Max had been younger, her uncle had been the one overseas most of the time. Then, he became a Drill Sergeant, and her mom had practically jumped on the first plane out of the country.
It had pretty much been just Max and her uncle for the past seven years. Her mom nurdağı escort bayan (http://www.gaziantepgazetesi.com/kategori/nurdagi-escort) was always gone, volunteering to stay right in the heart of battle because she preferred getting shot at than facing the daughter she'd never wanted.
Max frowned when she got Uncle Ryder's voicemail. He always picked up. She couldn't recall an instance when he'd failed to answer one of her calls unless he'd been at work. When the beep sounded after his short, professional greeting, she sucked in a breath and sighed.
"So, I did that thing you told me not to," she confessed. "And now Cynthia's totally wasted, and I don't have a ride home. I know you're pissed, but please don't leave me stranded here. I promise I didn't break any of your other stupid rules."
Aggravated, she disconnected and glanced at the time. It was a quarter to one, but after years in the military, her uncle was the epitome of a light sleeper. He wasn't a heavy drinker, either. Max had never once seen him buzzed, let alone drunk.
Without warning, someone grabbed her from behind. A hand clapped over her mouth, and a strong arm pinned her arms down. When Max tried to struggle, she was pulled tighter into the unyielding wall of a male body.
"You're such a little fucking liar," Uncle Ryder's voice hissed in her ear, sending a volatile collision of reactions through her. Lust, fear, longing, dread. Her heart galloped wildly. "You think I didn't see you with that pussy ass flyboy?"
Wait, what? Max's mind raced just as fast as her pulse. He'd been watching her the whole time?
More conflicted emotions tumbled through her, but there was no denying the most powerful ones, which had hot anticipation sparking between her legs.
"What did I tell you would happen if I ever found out you were with him again?" Uncle Ryder asked, his voice dangerously low.
He would bust her ass. That's what he'd said, but surely that had just been an empty threat, right? He'd never laid a hand on her, not even when Max had been at her worst. Uncle Ryder was skilled at discipline and didn't need to use physical reprimands to get his point across. He knew exactly how to make her regret her choices without them.
Unable to answer with his hand still clamped firmly over her mouth, all she could do was heave breaths through her nose and stare wide-eyed into the darkness.
"We're going to take a short trip, and you're going to keep your mouth shut until I tell you to speak, do you hear me?" he warned. "If you don't, your punishment will only be worse."
Without waiting for Max to agree, he started leading her around the bend of trees that lined the parking lot. Uncle Ryder kept his hand anchored on the back of her neck. His other hand gripped her waist, despite walking beside her. Knowing how quickly he'd be able to subdue her, she kept her mouth closed, but so many questions were circling her mind.
It was so dark that she couldn't even make out his truck until they were almost upon it. The trees blocked all of the lights from the cabins and bonfires further up the side of the lake. Uncle Ryder opened the passenger door and all but hefted her up onto the seat before closing it again. Max's fingers twisted together in her lap as he climbed up behind the steering wheel. Before he closed his door, she could see the formidable darkness swirling in his steel-gray eyes under the dome light, warning her to remain silent.
He was too attractive. His body was unfairly proportioned; perfect in every damn way. The BDUs he had to wear for work every day only amplified that, rather than camouflaging it. Currently, he wore only a black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. His hair had always appeared brown to her, dark enough to make his eyes stand out. Yet the tips would glint gold in certain lighting as if they might grow into dirty blond locks if he didn't have to get regular haircuts.
Starting the truck, Max's uncle followed the rough dirt road that edged that end of the lake. Rather than continuing to the main paved road, he veered right when it forked and started following along the other bank. That end of the lake was the narrowest, though still too wide to cross without a boat. About two miles out, the lake opened up even more, the two sides curving away from each other in opposite directions.
Max clung to the seat as the truck bounced and dipped into ruts, jostling them no matter how careful her uncle was driving. When he pulled off the road, taking a narrow, short driveway to a dark cabin, she looked at him with wide eyes.
He had to have pulled rank to get it on such short notice. Either that or he'd booked it way in advance as if he'd somehow predicted that Max would fuck up. Again.
Uncle Ryder merely gave her the same warning look and parked the truck, shutting the engine off.
"Inside," he ordered.
Max had to bite her tongue to keep from blurting her questions. Grabbing the handle, she opened the door and climbed out, biding escort nurdağı (http://www.gaziantepgazetesi.com/kategori/nurdagi-escort) her time. As much as she'd wanted the situation, defiance still rose inside her from being treated like a child. She was a grown-ass adult now. His bullshit needed to stop.
She couldn't miss the chair angled to face the lake when she stomped up the steps to the covered porch. A pair of binoculars was on the seat, confirming that he'd been watching her. Max's heart lurched, and she looked up to see that he had a clear view through the trees to the other side of the water. The bonfires and lights inside the cabins illuminated all the people still partying, even though she couldn't make out individual features from that distance. Her uncle would've been able to see everything with his military-grade binoculars.
"So, you're a stalker now?" she shot, forgetting her no-speaking rule already.
Her uncle crowded her, backing her into the wall next to the door. "I said get inside," he repeated sternly.
Max felt for the knob and turned it, opening the door before looking away from him and entering the cabin. It was pitch black for a second, but her uncle flicked on the lights when he walked in behind her. Lamps on end tables lit up, casting a warm glow in the small living room. There was only one small couch and an armchair, aside from the coffee and end tables.
The sofa faced a cast iron wood stove to the left, and a small kitchenette stood along the back wall with a narrow island counter separating the two rooms. A hallway cut past the right side of the kitchen, and she could make out two doorways in the shadows. Most likely a bedroom and a bathroom.
The front door closed with a resounding thud that had Max's nerves rattling to the surface. Still, she turned to face her uncle, feeling marginally safer with the ability to see what he was doing?or about to do.
"You just can't seem to follow any rules, Maxine," he said, stalking toward her. "You go to a party I explicitly told you not to, with the one fucker I told you to stay the hell away from, and now you speak when I told you to keep your damn mouth shut."
"This is ridiculous," Max laughed humorlessly. "I am an adult. I'm almost twenty years old!"
"Do we really need to go over that again?" he countered. "If you don't like the way things are, you're free to move out at any time."
The predatory flash in his eyes contradicted his words, warning her not to even think about it. Max still recalled when that same statement used to accompany a look of pleading from him as if he'd secretly prayed she'd leave and put him out of his misery. She'd expected him to kick her out on more than one occasion, but he never had.
"You're a dictator, not an uncle," she fumed. "You don't give two shits about me. All you care about is having complete control over someone else's life. Might as well be mine, right?"
Uncle Ryder was right in front of her in a flash. He towered over her so dangerously, her body seized, freezing her to the spot. His eyes impaled hers, the muscles working furiously in the back of his jaw.
"Do you know what happens at parties like that?" he demanded heatedly, pointing toward the covered windows. "Exactly what happened to your mother. I know you know what that was, Max. You're too fucking smart not to have figured it out by now. Is that what you want? To be gang-raped and left pregnant, not even knowing who the father of your baby is?"
Tears burned in her eyes and the back of her throat from her uncle's harsh words. It didn't matter that she'd already figured it out; hearing them spoken aloud was still like a punch to her chest.
"I'm not my mother," she seethed. "I don't even drink."
"That's not the point," he continued in the same tone. "Do you think they give a shit if you're drunk? You're a buck-twenty at best. Most of those guys are bench-pressing double that on a daily basis. You're too..."
"What?" she demanded angrily. "Too young? Too gullible?"
"You're too fucking gorgeous for your own damn good, that's what," he flared. "Especially when that body is attached to that fucking mouth."
Max was taken aback and completely confused. Had that been a compliment or a dis?
"What does that even mean?" she asked.
"It means you have a way of pushing a man's buttons, little girl," he growled, inching closer, not that there was much space left. "Your attitude begs for adjustment. And there are men out there all too willing to do that without a shred of decency or kindness."
"And you would?" she pushed.
"Have I ever hurt you?" he asked. "Have I ever done anything to you that you didn't bring about yourself?on purpose?just to piss me off?"
Max swallowed because the answer to that was a big fat no. He hadn't. He might be intense, controlling, and entirely way too overprotective to be healthy, but he'd never been cruel. That didn't change the main problem, though.
"You have to stop treating me like a little kid," she stated.
"My rules are to protect you," he argued.
"From living? Would you have followed your rules at my age?" she countered. "Have you ever considered that I only fight you so much because of them? That maybe if you treated me like the adult I am, then I wouldn't need to piss you off by doing things you want to protect me from?"