“This isn’t like you Sasha,” Julia replied. “You never used to keep secrets from me.”
Sasha twisted her hands in her lap. She hated seeing her mom like this—upset, fearful. She wished she could comfort herself with the knowledge that had she known getting involved with Thomas would harm her family she would never have done it, but deep down she knew that was a lie. Just being in the same room as Thomas again had reminded her that every negative thing that had come about from their union was worth it and was more than offset by the times they spent between the sheets. If she could go back in time and change the past, she wouldn’t.
“Mom,” Sasha said boldly. “I’m sorry that you got tangled up in this mess. But I love Thomas. I want to be with him. And that means accepting everything that comes with it—the paparazzi, the crazy stalkers, the phone taps, the backstabbing.”
She took a breath. It felt so good to get this all off her chest. Ever since she’d met Thomas, she’d been sucked into a strange game where she never knew whether she was coming or going, whether he’d be on her side or against her, whether he wanted her or despised her. She couldn’t control Thomas’s heart or mind, but she could control her own, and that meant staying true to herself.
She didn’t look for Thomas’s reaction. She didn’t want to read anything in his face that might reveal whether or not he loved her, too. Right now, she didn’t need to know. She just needed him to know.
Julia was still frowning.
Sasha took her mom’s hand. “You’ve never even been abroad. Think of this as an adventure. This can be like all the holidays we never got to go on after Dad left. And Gerald’s coming, too. You two get on famously.”
From his lookout post by the window, the security man chuckled.
Sasha could tell her mom was starting to soften. She took a sip of her coffee. Then as she moved the mug from her lips, she said, “What’s the weather like in England? I need to know what to pack.”
Sasha let out a breath of relief and hugged her mom. Knowing she had permission to return to England with Thomas made her feel as giddy as a teenager being granted a midnight curfew.
Gerald wheeled Julia out of the room, so she could start packing. Sasha and Thomas were left alone. The silence was so thick she could almost touch it.
“Sasha...” Thomas began.
Sasha shook her head, cutting him off. She smiled. “Don’t. Don’t say anything. I don’t need to know.”
Chapter Thirty
Being on Thomas’s plane again was like déjà vu. Only this time there was no chance for steamy sex because Julia—fatigued from the drive over—was napping in the bedroom. Gerald decided to rest up too, having been awake all of the previous evening on security duty. That left Thomas and Sasha in the main room together. They decided to make their way through a bottle of wine.
“Did you watch Chris’s video?” Sasha asked. The alcohol had loosened her tongue somewhat.
Thomas took a sip of his wine. “Yes. It was vile.”
Sasha nodded sadly. “I can’t believe he’d do that to me.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Thomas replied. “People turning on you is the worst feeling in the world.”
Sasha thought the comment was directed at her. She deflected it by asking, “Have you heard from Crystal?”
Thomas shook his head. “Not since she left the facility.”
“Are you worried about her?”
“I’m always worried about her. I’m worried about her every second of every day. She’s my little sister, and she puts her life in danger on a daily basis.”
Hearing him talk about Crystal like that gave Sasha hope. If he could forgive his little sister for selling him out, he could forgive her, too.
She took another sip of wine. “What about Pippa?”
Thomas sucked air between his teeth. “Pippa’s been communicating with me through her lawyers. I get almost daily reminders that I’m not allowed to mention certain things.” He eyed Sasha, communicating silently that she was the subject of his gagging order.
“It seems so unfair,” Sasha said. “Both our reputations have been tarnished by this whole thing and we’re not even allowed to set the record straight. All these strangers have constructed these stories about us that aren’t even true.”
Thomas tipped his chin down. His eyes bore into her. “Maybe you see now why you were so appealing to me in the first place.”
Sasha swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “We’re out of wine,” she said, standing and smoothing down her rucked up skirt. “I’ll get another bottle.”
Thomas swilled the last drops in his glass and watched her intently as she walked over to the fridge.
The alcohol coupled with the movement of the plane made her sway. She bent down to pick up a new bottle. As she stood, she became aware that Thomas was now standing directly behind her.
She was about to turn to face him, but he said, sharply, “Don’t look. Carry on with what you’re doing.”
As she placed the wine glasses side-by-side, she felt Thomas’s hand slide in through her blouse and cup her breast. He pulled her into him, and she felt his erection straining in his pants, pressed up against her buttocks. She hiccupped her pleasure.
As she wound the corkscrew into the cork, Thomas’s fingers slowly caressed her nipple, making it hard. She pulled the cork out. At the same time, she felt Thomas lift her skirt with his spare hand. She was wearing a thong, and there was now nothing between her and his hard cock except the fabric of his pants.
Sasha tried to turn again, but Thomas wouldn’t let her. “Keep going,” he said.
She began to pour the first glass of wine. The sound of the flowing liquid was matched by the sound of Thomas unzipping his fly. She wanted to reach back, to touch his penis, but he wouldn’t let her. He squeezed her breast. “You have another glass to fill.”
A moan escaped her lips, as Thomas quickly unbuttoned her blouse and pulled back the fabric. He massaged both her breasts while pressing kisses along her shoulder. Then one of his hands travelled the length of her body and down to her clitoris. She was wet for him, so ready for him to enter. But he didn’t. He kept his rock hard cock pressed against her buttocks.
Quivering, she began to pour the second glass. Thomas started massaging her clit slowly. At the same time, he moved his hips up and down, making his penis rub against the sensitive parts of her ass. It was an exciting new sensation for Sasha, one that made her gasp with arousal. It was clearly enjoyable for Thomas, too. He let out a grunt.
Sasha felt her body yearning for him to enter her from behind, but Thomas was holding back. At least for now.
The wine glasses were now both full, so Sasha set the bottle down. She tipped her head back and breathed deeply as Thomas pressed kisses into her neck, then ran his tongue up to her earlobe.
“I’ve missed feeling how wet you get for me,” he whispered in her ear. At the same time, he moved the hand that had been on her breast down and pushed two fingers inside of her.
Sasha gasped and grasped the countertop to steady herself. Her hair fell over her shoulder as she tipped her head forward. The mixture of sensations working its way around her body was intense. She was almost embarrassed by how quickly it had pushed her towards an orgasm.
“I’m close,” she whispered.
Thomas responded by sliding another finger inside of her, widening her. He worked the fingers on her clit faster. All the while, he rubbed himself up and down her ass so that she could feel his hard erection straining to be unleashed.
“Fuck,” she gasped.
“Touch yourself,” Thomas said.
She didn’t need to be told twice. She took over rubbing her clitoris, freeing Thomas’s hand up. He pushed her forward and unhooked her bra. He slid the straps over her shoulders, and it fell onto the surface in front of them.
Her breasts now fully exposed, Thomas licked his fingers and ran the wet tips in a circular motion around her
hard nipple. It was all she needed to tip over the edge.
Then she took a sharp intake of breath as she reached a sudden, fast climax. The speed with which she reached it shocked her, and she cried out, “Oh! Oh! Oh!”
Thomas moved his fingers inside of her to the rhythm of her orgasm. He didn’t stop until he squeezed the last drop out of it.
She gasped, as she felt him slide his fingers out of her. She could feel him breathing right in her ear and listened to the sound of him licking each finger slowly.
“I’ve missed your taste,” he whispered in her ear.
Sasha gripped the countertop so hard her fingers turned white. “Fuck me,” she demanded. “Fuck me now.”
“You want me inside of you?”
“Yes,” Sasha whispered. “Do it. I can’t wait.”
Hardly a second passed before she heard the familiar sound of a condom being removed from its wrapper and slid down his shaft. She tried to turn, but Thomas stopped her.
“I want to touch it,” she said.
“No,” he said. He nudged her legs apart with his foot then bent her forward, right over the fridge and work surface so that her posterior was angled upwards. He pulled her thong down to her ankles. “We’re doing this my way.”
Then he thrust his way inside of her dripping wet vagina.
The pleasure hit Sasha like a breaking wave. She cried out as the first thrust slammed her forward and made the fridge rock backwards. Thomas wasn’t planning on taking this slow or gently. He moved hard and fast, his hands on her hip bones to get a better grip, each thrust matched with a grunt. The fridge juddered back and forth each time his body slammed into hers, making the glasses tinkle against one another and the wine inside of them slosh.
“Fuck!” Sasha cried, as the intense new sensation gripped her. Thomas was fucking her so hard her breasts were bouncing. Her hair fell forward into the wine glasses.
Somehow Thomas pushed harder and harder. It was as though he was trying to bore his way right through her. Sasha felt a frenzied kind of pleasure, almost a delirium, a desperation. This wasn’t the delayed gratification Thomas had taught her, this was a desperate need to orgasm as hard and fast as possible. He needed to come inside of her, and she wanted to take him there.
She pushed back, matching each one of his thrusts with her own opposite force. She felt him harden even more inside of her and could tell he was close. She was close too and knew that all she had to do now was press her clitoris to climax. But she had to get Thomas there first. His breath was coming in fast pants. He sounded like he was in the middle of an intense workout.
She squeezed her pelvic floor muscles to make herself as tight as she possibly could. Thomas responded with a cry like nothing she’d ever heard from him. Then, there was a moment of silence that she recognized as the split second before the orgasm hit.
Thomas roared and pushed into her so deeply the wine glasses toppled over. Wine gushed over the fridge top and onto the cream carpet, splashing Sasha’s feet and soaking into her discarded thong. His cock began throbbing as he came. Sasha pressed her clit to make her own orgasm begin, and together, they moved in perfect harmony, riding the waves of their mutual orgasm.
Then, with one strong thrust, two, three, he was done.
Everything went still and silent. Thomas stayed behind her, inside of her, panting heavily. Then she saw him right the two wine glasses in front of them, pick up the wine bottle, and pour two new drinks. He slid out of her, zipped his fly, and left the room.
Sasha stood there panting, her legs still spread, her ass exposed, her body still positioned for penetration. She pulled up her thong, smoothed down her skirt, and stood straight. As she took the wine glasses over to the table, she couldn’t help but feel as though she and Thomas had regressed. They’d returned to the sex they’d had before, to the type where she wasn’t allowed to see him naked, where he would fuck her from behind fully dressed in his suit, keeping it as impersonal as possible. This had been the old Thomas Lloyd fucking her, not the man she loved.
Thomas came back into the main part of the plane and settled himself in his seat. He picked up the wine glass.
“Cheers,” he said, as though nothing had happened.
Feeling dazed and confused, Sasha clinked her glass against his. “Cheers.”
Chapter Thirty One
Aunty Mabel’s house was a stunning, old English manor house. There was a moat and a drawbridge and a whole orchard of apple trees. Even the drizzle couldn’t detract from the beauty of the place.
“Thomas, it’s amazing,” Sasha said.
He smiled. “Olivia and I used to come here during the summer when we were children.”
The rest of the plane journey had been uneventful. They’d gotten a little drunk but neither mentioned the intense sexual encounter they’d just had and what it meant for them now. During the drive to Oxfordshire, Thomas acted like nothing had happened at all. Like the actor he was famed for being, he was able to switch easily from one persona to the next. Right now, he was being the genteel English gentleman, showing guests around his estate. Looking at him, no one would ever guess that mere hours earlier he’d had Sasha bent over a fridge as he fucked her hard from behind.
Julia, at the very least, seemed content. She glanced around awestruck, as she was wheeled up the path by Gerald.
Thomas led them all up to the huge oak door. The doorbell was a pull chord that set off a series of tinkles inside the house.
As the door creaked open, Sasha was half expecting to see a waiter in a suit standing there. Instead, she was confronted by the sight of Crystal Carpenter. Something tightened in her chest as she recalled the previous times she’d come face-to-face with Thomas’s porn star sister. But instead of the vile, wasted woman she’d been confronted with before, this one beamed and cried, “Tommy!”
Crystal bounded down the steps and threw her arms around her brother, her bleach blonde hair cascading over his shoulders. He was too shocked to reciprocate the gesture and stood with his arms limply hanging by his side.
“Crystal?” he said.
She pulled away and looked at him brightly. “Not Crystal anymore. I’m using Olivia again.” She looked up to the sky, as though plucking something from her memory. “Crystal was a persona my addiction invented to repress the…guilt and shame I was feeling.” She spoke as though reciting. It was clearly something she’d picked up in rehab. Once she was finished, she looked back down and beamed like a child.
Thomas looked at Sasha and raised his eyebrows. “So rehab…?”
The woman waved a dismissive hand. “Waste of time. I just needed a juice cleanse, a lifestyle guru, daily yoga, and a healer to align my chakras.” She grabbed Thomas’s hand. “I thought I’d missed you. Where have you been?”
“I just went to fetch Sasha.”
“Sasha, of course!” Crystal cried. “We’ve met before.” She hugged her. This time she smelled of incense instead of whisky. “It’s nice to meet you sober.”
Sasha was stunned. The transformation in Crystal was mind-boggling. She could hardly bring herself to think of the woman as Olivia.
Thomas introduced his younger sister to Gerald and Julia. They exchanged cheek kisses and pleasantries. There was nothing about Crystal, now Olivia, which would make someone think she’d been a drug-addicted porn star a matter of weeks ago.
“Come on!” she cried with excitement. “Aunty Mabel’s made scones.”
As Thomas was dragged inside by his supposedly reformed sister, Sasha had a feeling that the trip to England wasn’t going to be as idyllic as she’d originally thought.
Chapter Thirty Two
The guests were introduced to Aunty Mabel—a rotund woman with perfectly coiffed hair and a pearl necklace—and Nina, the maid. Oh, and a bloodhound, Gertrude. Then Nina showed each guest to the room they’d be staying in. Last of all, she guided Sasha to hers. It was a beautiful room that was filled with dark wood and green drapery. There was an amazing view across
the grounds. Aunty Mabel’s house was almost more decadent than Thomas’s glass-fronted mansion.
“Thank you, Nina,” Sasha said as the young woman placed her bags in the room and left.
“Dinner will be served in half an hour,” Nina said. “Just come down when you’re ready.”
Sasha decided to freshen up. She still had wine on her feet from when Thomas has spilled it while fucking her. She went into the en suite and washed, feeling happy and rejuvenated for the first time in a long time. She dressed in a daring black leather mini-dress, one of the one’s Amore had given to her. She knew how much it had turned Thomas on when he’d seen her in all those sheer tops and black leather.
She looked for a hair dryer and found it in one of the drawers. However, her hand hovered over it. Then, she shut the drawer again. Thomas had a wet hair fetish. When they’d been on the island together, the sight of her wet body emerging from a swimming pool had turned him on so much he hadn’t been able to resist her. It would serve him right for pretending like nothing had happened between them on the plane...
She smiled to herself and skipped from her room. The stairs were wide and sweeping, like something from a movie. She found the dining room and saw that her mom and Aunty Mabel were already seated, chatting away with Olivia—who was sat on her knees in front of a roaring fire, stroking Gertrude, the bloodhound. Sasha realized it was the first time in a long time she’d see her mom looking so relaxed and carefree. This trip would do them both good.
Thomas came into the dining room. He took one look at Sasha, then his eyes blazed with desire.
“Are you doing that on purpose?” he whispered in her ear, his fingers lightly pressing the small of her back.
“Doing what?” Sasha asked innocently. “You mean my wet hair? I just couldn’t find a hair dryer.”
“A likely story,” Thomas said with a twitch of a smile on his lips. Then, under his breath, he whispered, “Game on, intern.”
Sasha bit her lip as a thrill of anticipation pulsed through her.
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