Out of the Way

I hummed happily, a bounce in my step without a indefinite cause. Cookies, steaming still from the oven, over piled a porcelain plate Mum only allowed us to eat from when we had guests. But tonight was a special occasion. Tonight we needed a bit of celebration. I came to a halt at the polished wood floors of the family room before stepping across, remembering my clumsily nose dive this morning. Kevin sat on the brown upholstered love seat, perhaps purposely ignoring me as he watched television. I sat the plate down next to his feet on the coffee table, turning my attention to him. I planted one small kiss on his stubbly cheek, still not getting any attention.

I huffed, getting up to turn on the stereo. Kevin loved classical music whenever he was creating art in his studio. I remembered Beethoven playing a soft song the sole time I disrupted him from his artwork. Luckily Kevin had one of his old CDs already in the advanced radio system Mum had to have just a week ago. "I thought you'd have forgotten my inspiring taste in music." A grin spreads across my glossed lips as I take down a bottle of wine from the wine rack.

"I thought I was your greatest inspiration?" I innocently toss at him as I uncork the bottle with ease. I clean any speck of dust from two wine glasses with the front of my dress until they are perfect.

"Besides you, that is. I can't make art without Mozart." Kevin's nerdness is what made me originally warm up to him five years prior. He always had some sort of quirky saying up his sleeve which was cute on him but never on any of the lame nerds at my school. The television clicked off, and I turned with the wine glasses filled to the brim in my hands. I sexily sauntered to him, my hips swaying with every move I made. Kevin stared at me, devouring every piece with just his eyes. As soon as I was on the couch, Kevin stroked a hand through my silken blond hair, kissing down my neck. A shiver erupted from my spine, one making me bold enough to grab at his face and force him to kiss my lips hungrily. I was never a patient girl, and I always got what I wanted. "Aggressive tonight, are we?" He mumbles between kisses. I let out a breathy laugh.

"Do you even have to ask me that?" But of course he does, because he's Kevin, and is prone to asking dumb questions every now and again. It's another thing that makes him cute but never on another guy.

"True." He sighs, pulling back a bit. I mentally kick myself for being such a dumb ass at times. Now he was probably going to stop kissing me and it would be all my own fault. I desperately didn't want to waste time talking now that we had this time together. Patience is a virtue, and I had enough common sense to know that whenever I'm patient my way always triumphs.

"We're going to have to go upstairs sooner or later and face cleaning duty." I chuckle, staring at his lips, his collarbone...downwards to his belt and beyond.

"True, but I would rather do it later." I answer, laying back on the couch and pushing my shirt up to reveal my diamond naval piercing. Kevin curiously watches me.

"I'm surprised you're taking this so well. Doesn't it bother you in the least?" He asks. I shrug, stroking my stomach. It will probably bother me eventually, but I don't feel remorseful or guilty. She had it coming.

"She was a needy old bitch anyway." I nonchalantly say. He scratches the side of his face with his thumb.

"But she's your Mum either way." Now I was getting impatient with the small talk. This conversation was taking much longer than it should. I sat up, huffy now at Kevin asking stupid questions.

"What do you want me to say? You heard her. She was going to lock you up for those pictures you made of me. I don't want you in prison. Your artwork is like magic." I chuckle although it doesn't help how edgy I feel. "She wouldn't understand anyways what love really is. She never had it, not with Dad or with her second husband." I lay back down, pulling Kevin by his red and orange plaid shirt with me. He pauses, hands on both sides of my chest.

"But isn't killing her a bit extreme?" He asks.

"She came after me, after you. She was throwing your art supplies around your studio, busting everything to bits. I was afraid for my life, and for your own. If she hadn't gotten suspicious and walked in on us, it would've never even happened. But you know what? It did, and now there's nothing we can say or do about it." I explained. "We'll dispose of her body tomorrow in the backyard, then she can decompose and have the worms eat away at her. No one will ever know she was gone. No one ever cares about the wealthy widow anyways. We have her money now."

"We do." Kevin heartily agrees. Of course he cares about the money. Why would a twenty-nine year old man marry a sixty year old otherwise? Besides to get closer to me of course. I smile at the thought.

"Did you love me from the start?" I ask him, unbuttoning his shirt. Kevin seems uncomfortable by my question.

"No, not from the start. You were eleven. Just a baby when I met her." He groans as I undo his belt and push my hand inside of his jeans.

"But I'm not a baby anymore. I'm almost seventeen." As if I want to prove it, I take off my top in one quick fluid motion. Kevin's back to staring hungrily down at me, one hand now tracing over my nipples, making them hard at the touch. I reach to help him take off his pants, my lips at his ear. "I'll no longer be your daughter when I turn eighteen. I'll be your wife."

"What do you want me to do in the meantime?" Kevin asks, pushing his hand underneath my panties, causing me to arch my back.

"Fuck me like a whore."