Good girl, p.1
Good Girl, page 1
A. Briar
Good Girl
Copyright © 2023 by A. Briar
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
First edition
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To all my Taboo Queens out there…Becker is waiting to make your panties wet!
Contents
Acknowledgement
Good Girl
Triggers
1. Charli
2. Charli
3. Becker
4. Charli
5. Becker
6. Charli
7. Becker
8. Charli
9. Becker
10. Charli
11. Becker
12. Charli
13. Epilogue
About the Author
Acknowledgement
I’d like to thank my sisters for their never ending support. You guys always have faith in me and my work even when I don’t. So JJ, Nafi and Jo thank you for always being there and being part of my support system.
I’d like to thank my best friend next. Safiyyah you’ve been by my side for seven years and you read almost everything of mine and I’m so glad to have that kind of relationship with you. Whenever I need inspiration or to just rant you’re always there!
Camille you’re amazing as always. Thank you so much for offering yourself up as my designated editing buddy. Hopefully you don’t get tired of me anytime soon. You’re an amazing bookish friend.
Nj thank you for always supporting and reading my stuff! Having my back in this crazy world means everything and I have yours too!
Last but not least thank you to every single reader! I’ve met a few on my recent journey and they have become a part of my permanent journey and I just want to let you guys know that none of this is possible without you. I’m so very grateful and overwhelmed with all the support! Thank you.
Good Girl
Triggers
Age-gap
Taboo (Incest Uncle+NIECE)
Breeding
Suicide mention
1
Charli
“Charli!” I heard my mom scream my name for the hundredth time, but I sat where I was. Which was in the attic, and also my bedroom.
I watched her below from my round window as she walked up to the truck. Up to him. Typical.
It hasn’t even been two weeks since Dad, but Mother dearest was already flaunting her widow sop story all over town, looking for attention wherever she could get it. So I wasn’t speaking to her. That and the fact that she refused to acknowledge Dad’s suicide. She was telling everyone that it was a heart attack that eventually killed him.
I still have his letter under my mattress. Spots of dark, dry blood blurred his final words. He probably shot himself in the face right after he penned it because that’s exactly how I found him when I walked into his study after school.
I’ve read it almost every night since then. Mom doesn’t even know that I have it. When I found it, I tucked it into the pocket of my dress and then left the study.
Liz, the letter began.
I don’t know where to begin…but I already know how this is going to end. We haven’t been our best selves lately. I know you said we could try and that we should try our best, but I just couldn’t do it anymore.
You have expectations…you always had expectations coming into this marriage. And I could never meet any of them as much as I tried. You made things impossible to the point that I just couldn’t see a way out. Maybe you’ll be happier once I’m gone…you said it yourself. So here I am, sitting down at my desk writing this letter and trying to understand where things went wrong for us. We were a beautiful family and I apologise if you find me this way.
Charli, my beautiful girl, you will always be a big part of my heart. The day you were born was the day I knew my legacy was in you. You were this tiny human being, looking up at me with those pretty dark green eyes of yours. I know you think of me as your hero and I wish I could have been. I wish I could have done better for you. But this is where I say goodbye. If you have to find this before your mother I hope you can forgive me Charli. You will always be my favorite girl…
I don’t know what expectations Mom had of Dad, but I know he did everything in his power for us. Or at least he tried. He worked long shifts at the local hospital as a neurosurgeon. He bought us this huge, sprawling country estate, in the middle of the new thriving community of Shepherd.
But according to his letter, nothing was enough for her. I stare at her now as she moves around him in her high heels, her honey-blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders and her lips coated with the darkest shade of red.
She was fucking disgusting. She disgusted me.
I watched him too. Tall, with short dark hair and broad-shouldered. A dark navy blue t-shirt spreads across his chest snugly with a pair of dark blue jeans that suited his towering frame.
My mom pointed up at the house and I sucked in a deep breath as he turned and looked up, directly at my room window. Directly at me. He lifted a hand and seemed to give a small wave, but his face was devoid of any smile—or of any expression for that matter.
She wanted me to meet him. I didn’t even know who the fuck he was. But he acted as if he had all the right in the world to be standing there.
Turning around, I went over to the tall Victorian mirror in the corner of my room and gave myself a once-over.
I wore a black and white striped cotton dress that came just above my knees and it was secured around my narrow waist with a matching tie-up belt.
It was a shame that I looked just like her too with my dark, honey-blonde waves that fell against my shoulders. Even my narrow, dark green eyes, my porcelain skin with splotches of red on my cheeks and my pouty pink lips were the same.
I left my room and rushed down the spiral staircase that led me into the foyer. The house was huge and old.
Barely lived in too according to my dad when he bought it off the market from a local family. They were the original owners and when they had just purchased the home they were not interested in renovating so they packed and left. It’s been on the market ever since. Twenty years to be exact, I think.
My dad was supposed to renovate it. Or at least start to renovate it. I was going to help him. It was going to be a project we could both work on together during my summer vacation. Now summer was here and Dad was gone.
I shut off my thoughts as I moved through the foyer. The dark mahogany floorboards creaked underneath my white tennis shoes.
The huge red front door was open, the golden afternoon sunlight filtering in along with a warm breeze.
As soon as I stepped out on the porch, I could feel his eyes on me. My skin prickled at that realization, so I cut my gaze across the wide pebbled drive to where he stood.
My mother was busy talking her mouth off, but he wasn’t listening. No, he had those dark eyes focused on me. I didn’t even know it yet, but my legs were moving and soon I was standing right in front of him. I noticed the dog chain first around his neck. And then I noticed his dark tan that looked like he worked out in the sun a lot. And then his eyes. They were blue and familiar. Dark blue. The bluest I’d ever seen. So dark, I felt myself getting a little lost in them. A tiny gasp escaped my lips and he seemed to notice, because his eyes flickered to my mouth, but only briefly before he guided those blue orifices back to mine.
I thought he was tall from up there, but he fucking towered over me. He stood at least a good few inches taller.
His jaw was covered with a dark scruff, but it wasn’t thick enough to hide the sharp cut of his cheekbones and jawline. The color of the scruff was the same as the dark hair on his head. His hair was neither long, nor short, neither straight nor curly. He had thick waves and I wondered for a second if they felt as soft as they looked. Those thick dark eyebrows had a slight frown in between them and it appeared as though it was part of his everyday expression.
“Charli, this is Becker,” my mother said. There was a tone of excitement in her voice which indicated that she was very happy about this man and his presence. “Becker is your father’s brother.”
Immediately my face started to burn because I had been checking this man out before me. Shit.
“What?” My words sounded colder than I had meant for them to sound, but Becker didn’t seem to mind. He just stood there and offered me a ghost of a smile. If I could even call that a smile.
And then he extended his large hand and I glanced down at it as if he would harm me with it.
“It’s good to finally meet my only niece,” he said.
His voice was rich and had a dark timber to it that made my hair stand up at the back of my neck. What the actual fuck, Charli?
This. Man. Was. My. Supposed. Uncle.
He glanced down at his extended hand. By now he should have taken the hint that I didn’t want to shake his hand. I didn’t want him anywhere near me or this house. Who was he? And if he was Dad’s brother, why did I not ever know about it?
She cleared her throat now as if to remind me of my manners. So I took a step closer towards Becker until his extended hand was almost touching my midriff and then I shook his hand.
“It’s good to meet you too,” I said. “Uncle.”
2
Charli
Becker has been sitting in my dad’s study for almost the entire afternoon.
My mom insisted on him having his privacy to grieve his brother.
I called bullshit because I couldn’t understand how someone could suddenly decide to show up two weeks later after their sibling had passed away to suddenly grieve. I know I sounded like a bitch, because grief is different for everyone, but two weeks? Let alone the fact that I was now eighteen and never knew this man existed until a few hours ago. Who the fuck does that? Dad lied and I thought he told me everything. It made me sick to think of all the times Dad said, “There are no secrets between us, Charli. Your dad is an open book.”
“He had his reasons,” Mom said, as she strained the potatoes that were boiling on the stove into the colander by the kitchen sink. “He had secrets. Jesus, you shock me sometimes, Charli. Did you think your dad was perfect?”
He was to me.
I’d had the sudden urge to fling something at her. She didn’t know that every night I went to sleep reading his bloody suicide letter. She didn’t know that she eventually drove him to the point of killing himself. She didn’t fucking know anything. But I knew. And I had to live with that every day, which was why I couldn’t stand her even more as she moved on with her life. She laughed, she ate, she breathed air, she spent my dad’s money, she got rid of his things from her bedroom and put them into the attic, and she cried when she knew everyone was looking.
“How long did you know about him?” I asked, hugging my knees to my chest as I sat on the kitchen floor watching her move around and prepare dinner.
She stilled by the stove, her hands
gripping either side of the counter.
“When I married your dad. It wasn’t my place to tell you anything,” she said. “Can you please go and call your uncle to the table for dinner?”
Gritting my teeth I stood up and forced out a simple, “Sure.”
“No attitude, Charli,” she said before I left the kitchen.
I found him in the study. He was sitting behind my dad’s desk, hands clasping a frame. I wondered if he knew my dad was sitting right where he was when he decided to shoot himself in the face.
There was so much blood. A tingle traveled through my teeth as I stepped past the threshold and into the study. Maybe it was mind over matter but I could swear that the air still had that odor in it. That deathly, metallic odor.
The place was spotless of course. A week after my dad’s death was ruled a suicide, my mother had gone to the nearest Walmart to purchase five bottles full of bleach.
We’d spent that hot afternoon, with sweat running down our backs while on our knees scrubbing everything down. His chair, his desk, the ceiling-to-floor window, the little Greek statues, his books. Everything.
Becker lifted his head the moment I pressed my legs against the desk. He placed the frame down and moved both of his arms until they were resting on the chair handles beside him. He sat back, his dark blue eyes studying me up and down briefly.
For a moment, my heart jumped against my breastbone. His eyes lingered for a second longer on my chest area, before coming back up to meet mine.
What the hell was that?
“My mother said that I should call you for dinner,” I said coolly.
He seemed to regard this for a moment before answering. “Would you like me to come for dinner, Charli?”
The sound of my name on his tongue sent my pulse spiking. I gave him one simple nod and then turned around to leave.
“You didn’t say yes or no.” The chair scraped back against the floor. There were heavy footsteps behind me and then nothing. Nothing, but his warm breath against the back of my exposed neck. And then I felt it. His hand was at the small of my back, pressing very gently into me.
My heart was racing. Fuck, what the hell was wrong with me?
“I hate rude little girls,” he whispered and there was a sudden shot of desire that traveled straight to my pussy.
Charli! My brain screamed. Get it together.
“Yes, we would like you to come for dinner, Uncle,” I said and then I practically ran out of the study and straight to the dining area that was now set up by my mother.
There were three plates on the dark wooden table. One at the head of the table where my father usually sat and two more across from each other.
I felt my hands curl into hard fists. What the hell was she doing setting up Dad’s place for a stranger? I didn’t care if he was my uncle, he still didn’t deserve any right to be sitting there.
My mother walked in with a crystal glass bowl of steaming potatoes at the same moment Becker joined us.
I took my usual seat which was always to the left of my dad and waited patiently for both of them to sit down, but just before Becker could even touch my dad’s chair, I stopped him.
“That’s where he used to sit,” I said, my voice cool and unwavering. “You can wherever else you’d like, but not there.”
“Charli!” Mother snapped, shooting me a piercing glare from across the room.
Becker cleared his throat and then chuckled softly. “It’s okay. I understand, Liz.”
Liz? So he was comfortable enough to call her Liz? My mother’s cheeks turned a tinge of red at her nickname and I swear to God it took everything I had in me to not jump across the table and throttle her.
My dad was six feet under because of her and she wanted to flirt with my supposed uncle. Her brother-in-law?
Becker took his plate and fork and knife before moving quietly behind me.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked.
I glanced up to see him standing right next to me, right next to the empty seat beside me.
I shook my head once and then proceeded to fill up my plate with meatloaf and steaming butter potatoes, while my mother poured each of us a glass of red wine.
Becker took his seat next to me and also filled his plate up with delicious-smelling food.
“You don’t mind if we pray, do you?” Mother directed her question at Becker.
Pray you don’t go to Hell.
“Not at all.”
I watched as she folded her hands together and prayed softly for the food in front of us.
At that very same moment, Becker leaned into me and his large, warm palm was against my knee, slowly moving up my thigh. My breath was stuck in my throat.
“Remember what I said about rude girls?” His lips, his voice, and his manly scent—a spicy hint of cologne mixed with the day’s sweat filled my senses.
I almost moaned as his fingers inched further in between my thighs, his thumb gently caressing my soft skin. My lips parted and my eyes rolled back. I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to.
We thank you, Lord Jesus, I heard mother saying.
“Are you a good girl, Charli?” Becker whispered against my ear.
My mother ended her prayer and Becker’s hand was gone. He had a fork in his left hand and a knife in his right and he was shoveling food down his throat as if he didn’t just have that same hand in between my legs right now, threatening to have me come without actually touching me.
What the hell was wrong with me? What the hell was wrong with him?
I’m pretty sure this man was feeling me up a few seconds ago and now…now I’m pretty sure my pussy is dripping wet and aching for his touch once again.
“Charli?” My mother calls my name and I glance up at her, my face burning and I can only hope to God that my face is free of any sign of guilt or mortification.
I cleared my throat and found my voice once again. “Sorry, yes?”
“Becker is going to be staying with us for a while. Since your dad…” She trailed off, unsure of how to continue her sentence. “I thought it’d be good bonding for you.”
I forced a smile as I swallowed down a tiny piece of the meatloaf. “That’s extremely thoughtful of you, Mother.”
