1 Chapter 1

Parties are absolutely not her environment of choice. Her awkward nature only allowed Portia to function in an almost normal-ish state when behind a computer or within walls and not crowded by random people. Not that she isn't fun, oh no. She can cause wars and spark riots if she chooses to. A force to be extremely wary of and not to be underestimated. Yet some of her other introvert qualities cloaked her venomous bite. "Do I really have to go?" asked Portia, voice sweetly soft in the pleading whine she'd been singing for the last ten minutes. Pouting as a last attempt to annoy the other woman into letting her stay put.

"Quit it, you're coming." Sweetie finalized her sentence. "And go change into something skimpy."

Guess that didn't work.

That sentiment earned the woman raised brows from her and an expression questioning that whole line of communication.. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?" She donned a pair of black skin tight leggings with mesh to expose some of her coloured skin and a navy blue top with slits down the sides.

Sweetie paused putting on eyeliner to give the girl a look that told otherwise. "That getup is not acceptable for where we're going tonight." A finger pointed up and down at Portia's length before directing out the door. "Go put on less clothes that at least show off your tits."

Portia's mouth fell open at the command, not believing her ears. Face turned a feverish red from slight embarrassment while hands unconsciously shielded her covered chest. "That's rude!"

"She's not wrong." said Cain, Sweetie's husband, who magically found them in the master bedroom. Portia suspected the man had this unique radar to zero in on females who spoke key words and phrases. 'Tits' being one of many on that ever growing list. "Ain't nothing wrong about showing off what you got, and you got a good pair." Even a blind hobo couldn't ignore the mischievous grin on his face.

Rolling brown eyes, the girl groaned in defeat. "You got to be fucking kidding me." She mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" Sweetie used her 'mom' tone this time with a wrist on a wide hip.

"Nothing, nothing. Going to find clothes with the least amount of fabric now." Portia cheekily announced, scooting off towards the door.

Sweetie hummed like a typical mother who pretended to not catch wind of teenage attitude as she continued to fold away. "Thought so."

Cain, obviously enjoyed the exchange, had a wicked smirk on his lips as they crossed paths. "Want some help?" There was heated temptation, one she was all too familiar with. Chest tightened with a lingering desire which always annoyed her. As much as she'd like to crumble and give into the serpents devilish imagination, guilt from the already mounting sin bubbled in her stomach.

She huffed and turned off down the hall towards her room. "No thanks, I'm grown."

"Oh yes you are." His deep chuckles followed her but feet remained planted, she was thankful for that.

"Do you ever stop?"


Reaching her room, she made sure the door clicked shut before arms pulled off her current shirt. Mumbling to herself about how bullshit this whole thing was. She hates parties. Yet, her view seemed to complicate itself when the tingle of Cain's lustful banter still whispered in her ears like an echo. Feeling a chill, she hugged herself. Staring blankly at the closet, a change of wardrobe no where in mind. At least, not putting them on. She itched to send the man a text and relent. Portia got so annoyed with the power he had over her mind, her body, her senses. It was unfair. Her heart cracked and crumbled with no hope of healing. Shaking her head, the girl tried best to push the anxiety back into its paper thin box. Isn't the current situation enough? She has a portion of him. She's in his life as she wished. More than she believed would happen.

No, it's never enough. It'll never be enough.

The cycle will always continue until someone breaks. She can only pray it's not her.

Or maybe she should be hoping the opposite.

"Knock knock." Said a soft little voice of the other female inhabitants that lived under the same roof. One that didn't need approval before entering her guess room.

Portia smiled, knowing the little girl was going straight to the new mattress Cain bought for when she stayed in town. "You know you're supposed to actually knock when you say that, Layla."

The child giggled as she cuddled with the lone stuffed animal Portia had, of course it was the blue dragon, Cain bought it. "But we're cool like that."

"True but that's bad manners."

"Who needs manners! I'm a wild and free kind of child!"

She couldn't agree more. "Also true but what it'll come in handy someday."

"Like when?" Asked Layla with a small pout, not believing the other's words.

Portia hummed, thinking of an example while going through each piece of clothing she owned to decide the skimpiest of the skimpiest as commanded. "Like, would you like to walk in on your brother kissing a boy?"

"Oh! Drama! Yes!"

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Obviously that's a totally wrong example. "What about a girl?"

Layla stuck out her tongue, face wrinkled with disgust. "Gross."

Now that was a very curious reaction but Portia decided to file it away in her head under the 'laugh about it with Cain later' category.

"So why are you half naked?" Asked Layla, who began to get comfortable in her bed. Wiggling under the beddings, blue dragon tightly under her arm.

Portia was trying to pick between a tight black off the shoulder top or a completely mesh crop top with a red bra cover to go with the faux leather skirt. Decisions. Decisions. "I'm going to a party tonight, your mom wasn't impressed with what I was wearing before." she was leaning towards the halter top.

"Party? You?" Layla yawned. It was minutes before eight, her bedtime. No doubt Cain will be hunting her down to tuck her in.

She giggled, deciding to go with the crop top to save Sweetie demanding her to change again. "That's what I said! They wouldn't leave me home with you so we could stay up and watch movies."

"But Why? That would've been so much fun!" her little voice sounded distant. It was just past eight, her bedtime. She probably ran into the room to hide from Cain. Portia wondered if to stop Layla from falling asleep and call him or just to leave it be. In typical them fashion, the universe answered her unspoken question by sending the very man who caused her turmoil. A shiny head popped into the room, instantly spotting a half dressed Portia who brought a finger to her lips before pointing at an already slumbering Layla. Catching the hint, he stalked inside quietly and closed the door behind him without a single creak to be heard. "You can leave her if it's alright with you and Sweetie, I can sleep in her room or here, the bed is big enough for two."

"Nah, it's alright. Sweets won't mind if she sleeps here." Cain softly sat on the mattress edge, hunching over slightly to pull the covers over his daughter's shoulders. Planting a butterfly kiss, wishing her sweet dreams and banishing nightmares. Moments like this, Portia cherishes more than she should. The kind moments, the subliminal moments no one else sees. The faces only visible to her. It made Portia's shame triple. It made her desire burn like fucking lava. She hates it. Damn it.

She lingered too long on the scene, he caught her staring. Those green eyes always seem to capture her, cage her away but leaves the key within arms reach. So cruel.

"Now I have an excuse to have you in our bed tonight." he didn't offer, he didn't suggest, he stated.

It's a situation not unusual to her.

Portia realized she was still unclothed and self-consciously spun to face the closet. Fingers trembled and pretended to hold the halter top in contemplation. Throat became dry, prompting her to not so elegantly clear it. An annoying itchy ache throbbed between her thighs. The heat was coming. "Stop being ridiculous, Layla is right there."

"I know, and she's knocked out and drifting in LaLaLand."

"Still, it's awkward, don't you feel awkward?"

"Now I do because you made it that way."

This primal dance was normal for them. They both knew already from the start how it'll end. It's the chase, the game, to see who will break.

She didn't need to see, she knew he crept closer and closer. The man was built like a tank and towered her even with heels. As if she didn't feel vulnerable enough with her mental conflict, being in just a bra didn't aid matters. Though Cain rather her completely naked, she still has insecurities to work out.

And he knew by the way she always cringed into herself. Portia always recoiled to his insatiable hunger like a rabbit or a cat. Quick to sprint away yet too filled with anticipation to fully bolt to safety. Their little troupe without a doubt is killing her slowly and he was very much aware. It started to have the same effect on him. Paining the man immensely to the point of near self-destruction. What a pair they are.

Softly, Cain touched her hips with care, lips planted a gentle kiss on her shoulder. He felt a shiver ripple down her, but unsure if it was from being cold, his beard or him. The small gasp that came from Portia was cute, a sign it wasn't the temperature. She wanted it, wanted him. She always did. She also fought it every time. He knew why, the reason was so obvious, if it was a snake he'd be agonized from venom. Yet, he always gave her that chance to flee.

"Did you pick something yet?"

Portia let out this adorable needy hum, a sign to him of her internal frustration and notion the little devil and angel on her shoulders were bickering. "Yeah, I think this one will be fine."

He followed trembling coloured hands to see her pick, and it was his turn to hum. "Nice, you'll look hot as hell in that."

Cain knew the girl all too well, far too well than he should. So expert in her little gestures and reactions, and how to corner her towards them. Like now, by complimenting Portia like he just did, she'll undoubtedly turn so he sees this meekly sheepish expression that makes those warm brown eyes doe round. Those pinch-able cheeks light up in a feverish tint and teeth bite on the inner flesh of lips.

To his expectations, that's what she did, but said in a weak little voice. "You think so?"

His little friend down under found the reaction so tantalizing it took every ounce of willpower to not take her right here. "Abso-fucking-lutely."

Portia perked up with a near angelic smile before returning attention back to the fabric and pulling it off the hanger. He backed off a couple inches to let her put on the bombshell top. Feeling childishly impatient to see how it looked on the girl under actual lighting, or back on the floor, an option he'd much rather. It'll have to wait.

Quietly, the two exited Portia's room, Cain bringing up the rear and closing the door.

"Are we leaving now, now? Or waiting until later?"

He examined Portia's back view, wickedly wishing the halter top hadn't perfectly covered her pink bra so he'd have an excuse to unlatch it and take it off. "Sweet is ready, won't be long. I wanted to put Layla to bed before we left, Thomas knows to listen out for her."

Portia sighed. "Damn, I wanted to fix my make up."

"You look fine, you don't even look like you have any on." In his opinion, the girl had a nasty habit of putting make-up on. He didn't care for the imperfections, he adored them. That's him though, she's an entirely different category. It helped with her self-esteem when out and about, he wasn't going to take that away from her.

She smirked. "That's the magic."

As they made their way downstairs, Cain couldn't help but notice the exhausted expression on her face. "How did you look tired and we haven't left the house yet?"

Portia's mouth dropped. So rude! "Excuse me but I did a lot today that equals to me being tired."

"I don't think doing nothing counts as 'doing a lot'."

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously?"

"I didn't think you'd be this anti-social."

Portia shot him a glare. "I'm not anti-social, I have socially awkward, there's a difference."

"Okay, but you still don't like talking to people, which makes you antisocial too."

"No, I just treasure my personal time and space."

He laughed and the sound made her melt. "Whatever makes you sleep at night."

Reaching the stairs, Sweetie gave Portia a quick glance over. "Now that's better."

Portia resisted an eye roll. "Glad you approve." This was the only, or well, one of the things she always found annoying when visiting. She didn't about to get into a whole rant though, the burning taste of alcohol actually sounded great at the moment.