Chapter 9

Just one day, but what a change. Nicole Flaherty is up in the morning with a budding excitement. She takes her time getting dressed in the morning, trying out a few outfits before she settles on a wide jean skirt that cuts off at mid thigh and flares straight from her hips and short sleeve yellow off the shoulder crop top. It has padding in the front so she doesn’t bother with a bra, besides she likes the idea that it might catch her uncle’s eye.

She smiles at the thought. Yes, that’s her very own pervy idea, but no judgement. She could catch anyone’s eyes she wanted. She’s hot. Not just hot, she’s a beautiful, amazing, sexual creature. She’s free and that means anything goes.

It’s only logical really - her “Big Idea” that is. She holds it to her heart like a best friend’s secret, and it warms her when she sees her Uncle at breakfast.

“You’re in good spirits this morning.” He smiles over a cup of coffee.

“I am. I’m unstoppable. Indefatigable.”

He chuckles. “I believe it.”

“I,” she pauses to pop her vitamin in her mouth, “am Wonder Woman.”

“A superheroine, no less. Have any villains to catch today?”

“Let’s go out, let’s do something fun today, just me and you.” She’s smokey eyed and with a glint of conspiracy. Maybe a little pushy, but that’s fine.

He groans. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to.”

“Come on, your deals or deliveries or whatever aren’t going to fall apart if you are missing for one day. Call in sick! C’mon pleeeease?”

He marvels at her and how she can go from twenty four year old sexual minx to fourteen in the span of seconds. “Today is important for me.”

She turns on doe eyes. “Aren’t I important too?”

He peers at her in admiration. “What has gotten into you today?”

She shrugs and arches a sly brow, turning her vixen back to 10. “I don’t know, maybe you want to find out?”

Her meaning hangs in the air.

He groans. “Okay, tonight, we’re going out, I’ll get back early and I’ll pick your attire. Don’t eat dinner, we’ll do dinner and something special. Okay?”

She smiles triumphantly. “Perfect.”

Her Big Idea is set in motion. Tonight, she’s going to seduce her Uncle. Tonight, she’s going to make love to an amazing man, to Hell with society. God, sex has all she’s been able to think about since she’s been around him, it should have been obvious what she wanted all along. She is going to bone her Uncle. It isn’t like he wasn’t into it. He was watching her play with those guys yesterday, and she knew he wanted to join in. If anyone is a perv, he’s the biggest perv of them all and honestly, she loves it.

Besides, it’s just rational. Most girls her age already had sex. Hell, the first time she’d been cat called, she was eleven. Sex had been looming forever even if she hadn’t given a damn about it until now.

While he’s out, she sneaks over to his office. The door is locked, but that’s fine. She stole Avery’s keys during a massage.

The anticipation of tonight, of seducing her own uncle and losing her virginity has her stomach twisting in excitement already. He’s logged onto the computer and she can’t get in, so she hard resets the machine to log in as herself. She wasn’t coming to look at his stuff anyway. She opens up a browser to go through the pictures from her photo shoot. They were the first time that she really seemed to catch his eye.

After browsing those lurid photos, she stops at the search bar. On a lark, she open up Google and relogged in. It’s an email address no one knew about. She had made it when she first got her phone. There are a bunch of half started google docs and one titled - “Slam Book”. She smiles at herself. She had meant for it to be a scandalous book about her classmates and stuff. People she hated and mean things about them. But it turned into a diary.

Officially twelve and a half today. Six more months before being a teenager. Mom says she’s dreading it, que le voy a matarla. Ha! I already feel like a teenager, I think. Unless it really does feel different. I’ll have to come back and see. And does this mean I have to stop writing a diary? Or does it mean I should be writing more? I know it’s just a number, but something feels kind of special about it. ThirTEEN.

She scrolls through, feeling a pang from the echoes of the girl she used to be.

Dad is the best. Went to the pool and he let me go hang out with friends even though it was supposed to be a daddy daughter date. He gets it. Tammy and Marisa were there and Bobby was buzzing around her like fly. God he’s SOOOO in love w/Mari and she doesn’t even know it. That’s BS, I think she does know it, but she doesn’t really like him. But he does nice things like gets us gum, so I guess it’s cool. He’s such a dweeb, like literally, we just want to talk and suddenly we can’t cause he’s around. Tammy got fed up and started cutting on him so bad. Like, the shade was so beyond I thought he was going to melt. Tammy is viscious - reminder: Never Piss Off Tammy.

She chuckles at her misspelling and her memories. Tammy was a force. The entry went on.

It was good to just sit with him. I know it’s corny, but my daddy is my hero. There is no where in the world that feels safer than Dad’s tummy pillow. I am so lucky. Also, Peter is a no dick doucheface and I hate him.

She chuckles. Peter, that little shit. He grabbed her ass and pulled at her bottoms at the pool. He didn’t get them down, but God what an ass. The worst thing about it was the complete lack of remorse. He just laughed and said he didn’t take off my top because there wasn’t anything to look at anyway. What a piece of garbage.

She remembered how helpless she felt back then. But not now. Now she was rich. She didn’t have to go to the public pool, she had her own pool.

Maybe it might be nice to get back to school. Her loneliness scratched at a raw spot on her heart. Maybe ... maybe after Uncle Ryan ... maybe she could convince him.

Or maybe it didn’t matter. After all, what teenager could understand her now anyway? Maybe she could be friends with Ryan’s friends.

Nicole is a swirl of anticipation when Uncle Ryan comes home. He’s late; 6:45 which means they won’t be eating until 8:30 at the earliest. He walks in wearing a suit with the tie loosened. Like a boss. She grins.

“Move your butt, Nikki.” He stomps straight up the stairs and she follows behind. He doesn’t remark on her outfit or even greet her with a hug.

She follows him up the stairs in a rush.

“Are we going out to-”

“Not in that, we’re not. Take it off.” His order is sharp and even.

Her smile turns unsure, but for the moment he’s asking her to get naked. It isn’t exactly how she was planning it. She pulls the crop top up over her head, dropping it to the side and unzips the back of the skirt. The image of her sliding it down over her hips would probably be sexy enough if he was actually watching. Instead, he was rummaging through her closet.

She waits for him in a lacy white thong with her skirt pooled around her ankles. She fantasizes that he’d see her and be so captivated that he’d stop moving dead in his tracks. She could walk up to him, bared to him down to the soul and take his lips into a kiss. She’d break through his shell and he’d ... But instead, he lays down a sheer dark purple top with a black skirt and heels on her bed. “Start with these.” He picks up her outfit off the floor, including the bra.

The skirt was stretchy and form fitting up to her hips. But the shirt is something else. It was so sheer you can see her breasts clear through it! If they were going to stay home, that’s one thing, but going out in this? Too much!

“Um, Uncle Ryan?” She turns to him in her new outfit with a bit of fear.

“Here, and let’s do something about your makeup.” He hands her an open front cropped cardigan that matched her skirt.

Oh, that made sense. Putting it on she feels much more at ease. Even though it has an open top, it covers the necessary bits. The translucent shirt gives her a daring look without actually revealing anything. It’s amazing. She would have never thought about wearing an outfit like this!

She chases after him with heels in hand to the bathroom where he’d set out some make up. Foundation, blush, eyeliner, mascara, even lip stain and gloss. She can’t question him because he simply turned around and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Meet me in the south wing when you’re ready. Call Avery if you get lost.”

She takes her time applying makeup, even going to far as to try to draw cat’s eyes twice before giving up on the lopsided affair and just going for a dark and smokey look. She’d been out in the sun enough that she’d tanned well to an even almond tone. It was amazing that her uncle had matched her tones so perfectly. Most of the makeup is designer brand, but the lip stain is in an unlabelled vial with a screw too brush applicator. Beyond that her hair had lightened in the sun by the pool and combined with the highlights, she looks like a whole different person than the girl she’d arrived as. But that is fine. She smiles into the mirror looking at a sultry goddess. She looks so grown up, no one would think her a lovely teenager anymore. She could probably pass for 21!

Her stomach and her phone tell her it was a quarter ‘til 8 and she hurries down toward the south wing, calling out for Avery. Avery leads the guilt ridden girl out a way she hadn’t been to before where a helicopter and her Uncle wait to greet them.

He shakes his head at her and straps her in. They made it from the mansion to a rooftop landing helipad faster than she thought possible. Skipping hours of traffic and seeing LA from the sky is amazing. She beams at Uncle Ryan over and over again. He is so cool with squinted piercing eyes and perfect hair. He really doesn’t look all that old at all. Most older guys were shaped like a pear stuck on a pair of popsicle sticks. Not Ryan, he looks more like one of those guys in fashion magazines posing in clothes, pretending to be about to close a deal. But he actually does deals. Her lips began to tingle at the thought of kissing him. It’s crazy, everything’s crazy, like a lilting song in her head. What would he think if he knew she was checking out shoulders and wondering what it would feel like to be in his arms? She grins at the possibility that he’d be into it as insanely as she is.

His hand takes hers to help her off the heli since she’s a little unsteady in heels. Her heart thumps as he keeps her hand. She pulls her cardigan as closed as she can with one hand. The restaurant is only a few floors down, so she takes the time to fix her hair in the mirrored walls of the elevator.

He orders for the both of them, since the menu isn’t in English or Spanish. To her surprise, he orders a bottle of wine, but only one glass.

“Aren’t you going to share?” She throws on a light teasing tone.

“You, young miss, aren’t old enough.”

She rolls her eyes and chortles. “Oh please.”

He purses his lips at her.

“Really? You’re going to drink that all by yourself?”

“Tell me about your day.” He forcefully rolls over the conversation.

She doesn’t let it drop. Oh she tells him about her day, but when she thinks he’s relaxed and off guard she casually reaches for the glass. His hand stops the glass trapping it to the table. “You’re not drinking tonight.”

It’s a fact. She pulls her hands back as if scalded by the scolding. Something about his forceful tone makes her feel a heady tingle in her head.

“What songs are you listening these days?”

Feeling in safer territory, she relaxes into talking about music. He actually seems to care that she’s really been enjoying Zara and that she’s not as much of a Swiftie as she used to be. In fact, as they bring out the first course, she is feeling positively euphoric at having his rapt attention.

“It’s warm, take off your cardigan.”

She’s feeling so light and agreeable that she does without a thought. She is smiley and giggly, lightly flirting with him. Her big plan had been to have him so hot for her, but she’s feeling so giggly and playful all of her plans are slipping through her fingers. She can’t help but make eyes at him. No one here knows they are related, as far as they are concerned she’s his date. She enjoys the pleasant buzz of her own excitement lost in his eyes.

“You’re feeling pretty good aren’t you?”

She nods with a lazy smile.

“Then I think you’re ready for this.”

He hands her a slim square jewelry boy and flips it open. Inside is a black choker with a golden heart at the center inlaid with diamonds. It’s black satin has no clasp in the back.

“Go on, put it on.”

She fusses with her mass of hair to get it into place, but her hands aren’t 100% cooperating. She giggles when he gets up to help her and combs it forward around her shoulder.

There’s an intimacy in his touch when he wraps it around her neck. He ties it tight enough to sit high on her neck. It isn’t quite choking her but it is intense enough for her to be aware of it. She raises her hands to touch it, but she thoughts are derailed when he runs his hands up through her scalp. It’s heavenly. Even as he sits back down, it is as if his hands are still touching her. In a way, they still are in the tightness of the choker.

She’s in a haze when he takes her by the hand. “I want to see you dance.”

She manages a squeeze, but the choker and the movement cut off any thought of talk.

He’s carrying her cardigan as they walk back to the elevator. Eyes are on her in the restaurant, those eyes turning more lustful when he gets her to a club.

It’s permeated by a low reddish light, much of the club has couches and chairs set by cordoned off VIP areas. The floors are like black tar sucking in the light, the dance floor is a black hole surrounded by bars run by beautiful women. Spotlights shine and waver over the dance floor revealing flashes of bodies dancing in close quarters. There’s a heat emanating from the mass of throbbing bodies. The scene is hypnotically carnal.

His lips are by her earlobe. “Dance for me.”

She floats out onto the dance floor feeling loose and giggly. A quick look back warms her, he’s watching her, focused on her with that handsome smile. The lights strobe in time to the pulsing upbeat music. She finds a space where she can see him and starts to move. Nicole was never really a great dancer, but she sways along with the music, raising her arms and letting the sounds wash down around her. She feels marvellous, swivelling her hips and blowing him a kiss.

More bodies join the floor and soon she’s not at the edge anymore. Men and women dance together, some in groups and some very obviously paired off. A well built jock type is grinding away on a buxom woman who glistens with sweat into her skater dress. Their display is open, lewd, and raw, but they move close enough to her that she scoots to find a new spot further in the middle. A group of beautiful girls are dancing surrounded by fit guys. She feels like the only one dancing alone. It doesn’t matter, the music is awesome, the vibe is alive and fun, and she is free.

One lean muscled guy with curly hair and a white tank top is dancing by her. He’s really good, ticking his hands up to his chest and down. He’s got amazing body control, it’s like there’s a metronome ticking and tocking him. His staccato is to hypnotic, she forgets she’s dancing as she watches him. Looking up she realizes he’s been noticing her staring and gives her a smile. She smiles, but looks away and reminds herself to dance. He’s cute in a slick and wily kind of way, with a beak nose, nosering, and mischievous brows.