by T L Swan
“He doesn’t mean to hit me.”
I scrunch up my face in confusion. “So, he does hit you?”
“He just loses his temper.”
“Why?”
Fake tears well up in her eyes. “Because I won’t leave Robert for him.”
“What the hell?” I cry. “What are you fucking saying?”
“We have been…” she hesitates as if thinking of her wording, “involved for a long time. I could never leave Robert because I was scared Joshua would find out.”
“So, the rape story was a lie?” I yell. I can’t believe this bitch. Who makes up stories like that?
She shakes her head. “No, he has raped me in the past and he does hit me. But only because he loves me.”
“He hits you and rapes you because he loves you? Have you gone completely mad? Are you listening to what you are saying at all?”
“He so desperately loves me. So much so that he can’t stand the thought of me going home to Robert. He has even threatened to kill me, to kill himself if I don’t see him.”
I don’t believe this. She is defending his behaviour. She’s in a domestic violent relationship with him.
“I love him, Natasha.” Her eyes search mine.
I stand still on the spot as everything I thought I knew falls into place.
This was my gut feeling.
I shake my head in disgust.
“You are a lying, two faced bitch.”
Her face falls. “Natasha, please understand.”
“No!” I shout back. “I understood when you told me the lies. I understood when you kept Joshua and I apart, knowing all along that we were not cousins.”
“Natasha, please. My marriage to Robert is over. It doesn’t need to be bought up.”
I fake a smile. “Fuck you. My understanding is over. Get out of my life.”
I pace back and forth along the side of the pool at mine and Joshua’s house. I’m panicking. I don’t know if I am doing the right thing or not, but I am not covering for that bitch one minute longer. I’ve just sent Joshua and Cameron a text telling them that I need to see them both immediately. They were relaxing by the pool at Cameron’s house.
Sorry to be the party pooper, boys.
They come through the gate together, and I know instantly that Joshua knows something is wrong, I can read it on his face.
“What’s up?” Cameron asks.
I fake a smile and gesture to the seats by the pool, watching them as they both sit down.
I continue to pace back and forth as I try to regulate my heartbeat.
“What’s wrong, Natasha?” Joshua asks.
I turn to face them and swallow the bucket of sand in my throat.
“So…” I pause. God, I’m going to sound like a stalker. A creepy troublemaking stalker.
“So what?” Joshua asks with agitation, obviously annoyed at my procrastination.
“You know the other day when I was sitting by the pool with your mum and Nicholas?”
They both frown and shake their head. “No, but go on,” answers Cam.
“Your mum’s phone was on the table next to me.”
They both sit still.
“Anyway.” I keep pacing. I already hate this conversation. “She got a text and I went to hand it to her, but I saw it was from someone called Deidre.”
Joshua frowns.
“It said: I have told her everything.”
“Who’s Deidre?” Cameron frowns and Joshua shrugs.
Of course they don’t know who Deidre is because she doesn’t fucking exist.
I keep pacing as I try to get my wording right in my head. “Well, it played on my mind. I kept thinking, who has she told everything to? That statement… It just doesn’t make sense, you know?”
Joshua lays back on the chair as he listens patiently.
“And then, remember, we went to the restaurant, and I wanted to ring Mum, so I borrowed your mother’s phone.”
Cameron frowns.
This is the awkward stalker part of the story. “I was kind of worried about your mum.”
“Why?” Joshua frowns.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I can’t even put my finger on it. I just was.”
He stares at me.
“This is going to sound evil, but I went through her call register and she had been speaking to Deidre at all times of the night for hours.”
Joshua sits up. “Who is this Deidre?”
I blow out a breath. “Promise me you won’t be mad at me?”
“Why?” Joshua says flatly.
“I memorised the Deirdre’s phone number, and when we got home I checked it against the numbers in your phone.”
“And?”
“Deirdre is James Brennan.”
“What?” Joshua barks.
“And the phone call she got at lunch today was from Deirdre, so I followed her outside to eavesdrop, and I heard her tell him she loved him,” I blurt out in a rush.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Cameron spits.
I shake my head nervously. “She saw me.”
“What did she say?” Joshua questions angrily.
My face falls. “She asked me not to tell you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before she got on the fucking plane this afternoon?” Joshua yells.
“I don’t know. I didn’t want any more drama. Haven’t we had enough drama, Joshua?”
He starts to pace.
“And Max told me that your mother and father are not sleeping together in the same room, so I thought maybe they are over and… and I didn’t know if I should say anything,” I stammer.
“Fucking unbelievable.” Cameron sighs sadly.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t know if I did the right thing, but I am never keeping another secret from you two again. I had to tell you.”
Joshua blows out a defeated breath. “So, everything was a lie?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
Joshua rubs his hands through his hair. “I need a fucking drink.”
Chapter 4
“And then she told him she loved him.”
“Fuck off.” Abbie spits, her eyes wide. I take a sip of my Margarita and nod. “She actually said that?”
“Yep.”
“Stupid bitch.” Bridget shakes her head. “What did you say?”
“I totally lost my shit and called her a lying bitch or something.” I blow out a breath. “I don’t even know. I was so mad at her that I can’t remember.”
“Fucking hell.”
“I know,” I murmur into my glass.
“I said something lame about her being a lying bitch. I wish I was more prepared. I would have nailed her.”
“I hate it when you do that,” Bridget says.
“Do what?” Abbie asks.
“You know, like have a fight and think of all the things you should have said long after the fight is over.”
Abbie lights a cigar and throws the packet to Cameron who is sitting down the other end of the bench table. He nods in thanks, takes one out and lights it before he passes the packet to Joshua. The dance music is loud and the crowd is noisy. We are at a bar on the beach of Phuket. Its about nine o’clock and we arrived an hour ago. A night out that we all desperately needed. Brock, Ben, Max and the bodyguards are on the table behind us, talking war and horror stories. Joshua and Cameron are sitting on the other end of the table, no doubt discussing the same as we are: The Margaret saga. They took it better than I expected. Joshua said he could tell by my body language when I got back from speaking with his mother at lunch that something had gone on. The sick truth is, I think this is the story we had all imagined, anyway. It’s not shocking… more disappointing. I wanted her to be the victim, the misunderstood mother-in-law, and I wanted to be her saviour.
I believed her and defended her, yet, in the end, it had all been a lie. I do believe she is an abused woman, neglected by her husband so seeking love from another man. Unfortunately, tha
t’s a man whose only power is to take hers. He’s a wimp who blames his obsession and his inability to have her as the reason he abuses her. I know it’s common in domestically violent relationships, but when it’s someone you know, it’s hard to truly understand. He has brain washed her into thinking she brought this on all by herself, and that if she would just do as he asked, he wouldn’t need to hit, to rape, and to destroy her self esteem. She has obviously made an allegiance with the pain and needs the violence to feel his love, as if it validated it in some way. Sick, soul destroying and fucked up.
He doesn’t deserve her. Who am I kidding? How can you help someone who doesn’t want to be helped? They are as messed up as each other.
I am brought back to the here and now by a tall, well-built, blonde man standing next to Bridget. “Would you like to dance?” he asks her in what sounds like a German accent.
Her eyes flick to Abbie’s and mine.
“Yes, she would,” Abbie splutters.
Joshua and Cameron make eye contact, and Cameron smirks into his drink.
Bridget smiles nervously and he takes her hand, leading her to the dance floor. I look over to Ben for his reaction. He is still sitting at the other table, and his eyes flicker up to her, then he gulps down a large swig of his beer without even tasting it.
“What is she doing?” I whisper to Abbie. “What’s going on with her and Ben?” I frown.
“Ben is an asshole.” Abbie tuts as her eyes follow Bridget and Blondie through the crowd.
“Why?” I whisper, I’m confused.
“I hope she screws this guy into next week.”
“What happened between them?”
We are interrupted by Adrian and Nicholas, as they take a seat at our table. Adrian smiles broadly and kisses both of us on the cheek. “Hello, my beautiful girls.”
Nicholas is going home tomorrow and they went out to dinner on their own. I grab his hand under the table and give it a squeeze. Cameron gestures something to Nicholas and he stands and goes over to talk to the two of them. Cameron offers him a cigar, which he accepts.
“Where’s Didge?” Adrian asks.
“Dancing with a hot guy.”
Adrian sits up on his stool and cranes his neck to see before he lets out a low whistle when he catches sight of him. “Nice,” he whispers.
I hold my hands up. “Excuse me. Am I the only one who is batting for Ben here?”
Adrian shakes his head. “That ship sailed and he missed it.”
“Here, here,” Abbie mutters as she clinks her glass with Adrian’s.
I frown and am interrupted by two warm hands slipping around my waist from behind. “Would you like a drink, Presh?” my gorgeous Lamborghini asks.
I lean back into him and he kisses me tenderly over my shoulder. “Yes.” I smile against his lips.
“Margaritas?” He looks around at everyone.
“Yes, please.” Abbie smiles.
I stand. “I’ll come to the bar with you.”
He turns and walks through the club and I follow him like a puppy, my eyes drop to his behind as he walks through the crowded club. He’s in a black singlet and coloured board shorts. His ass looks taught, tight and totally fuckable.
I’m feeling more myself tonight. Maybe I just needed to fight with Margaret all along. It felt so good calling her a bitch to her face.
I am wearing a black loose fitted wrap around dress with a black bikini underneath in case we go swimming at the beach on the way home. We get to the crowded bar surrounded with people and Joshua stands protectively behind me, gently sweeping my hair to one side of my neck. The music has a deep beating base, and Joshua slowly kisses my neck.
“If I kiss you here.” He kisses me on the neck. “What happens?”
“I would tell you to keep going.” I smile against his cheek.
“If I bite you here.” He nips me on the neck and I yelp, there it is, my pleasure with my pain. “What happens?”
My eyes close. “I get wet,” I whisper, releasing a smile. I like this game.
“Mmm,” he murmurs in my ear.
A spot becomes available and we go to the front. He leans over. “I will have two Cointreau’s immediately, and…” He does an internal count. “Ten Margaritas and ten lagers, please.”
The waitress makes the two Cointreau’s and passes them to us. He pays and gestures to a table over to the side of the bar that is surrounded with people facing the dance floor. “We will be over here.”
“Ok, thank you. Ten minutes.”
Joshua takes the two drinks and walks through the crowd over to the table and sits down. I follow but before I can speak, he has pulled me onto his lap.
His tongue dives deeply into my mouth. “Joshua, what are we doing over here?”
“I need to feel it.”
“Feel what?”
“How wet you are.”
My eyes widen. “Here?” I whisper.
He bites my ear from behind.
“But, Ben…” My eyes flutter around to Ben, who is now standing against the wall to keep an eye on us as we go to the bar.
“He can only see our heads, we are shielded by the people and the crowd.”
“Joshua.”
“He’s preoccupied with Bridget.” He sighs in frustration.
My eyes flick around and, sure enough, on the other side of the dance floor Bridget is dancing with her German and Ben is watching her like a raging hawk.
And then I feel Joshua’s hand slide up the inside of my thigh, underneath my dress, and we’re shielded only by the table as I sit on his lap.
“Open your legs.”
My eyes widen. “Josh.”
His strong fingers push my bikini pants to the side and swipe through my wet flesh,
“Dripping,” he whispers into my ear as he starts to kiss my neck. “Nice and creamy.” My breath catches. “Just how I need it.”
He slowly pushes into me with his two thick fingers and it’s all I can do not to close my eyes in pleasure.
“Act normal.” His tongue roams up and down my neck.
Fuck, act normal? How in the hell do I do that?
“Wider.”
“Huh?”
“Open your legs wider,” he orders.
“We are in a club,” I whisper at him over my shoulder. I can feel his large erection through his shorts beneath me.
“We are in the dark and you are on my lap under the table, nobody can see.”
He pumps me with his fingers gently. From the outside we look like I am just sitting on his lap with my legs wide. But underneath my dress, Joshua’s magic fingers are slowly sinking in and out of me. I’m wet, so wet and I am starting to throb. He pushes me hard again and I fall forward onto the table.
“Stop moving,” he whispers. “Behave.”
I shudder. God, I love this man.
For five minutes, we sit alone in the dark, his fingers working me, my body riding his. We are both quivering as we hold off our arousal. The song Yeah by Usher comes on, and I know I have to have him to it.
“Fuck me,” I whisper over my shoulder.
His lips take mine aggressively.
“Here?” he pants darkly.
I am trying my hardest to slow my heartbeat. “I need your cock inside of me now.”
“Beautiful slut.” He growls as he takes my lips again in his hard.
“Lean forward and pick up your drink slowly,” he instructs softly into my ear sending goose bumps scattering across my skin.
“What?” I frown.
“Get off my dick so I can get it out.”
I bubble up a giggle and slowly lean forward in the dark to lift my drink, I can feel him fiddling with the Velcro on his shorts beneath me and I look uninterested as my eyes flicker around to see if the others have noticed. Surprisingly, nobody has. With one hand, Joshua opens my lips underneath my dress, and the other hand, he places on my hip, pulling me down in one strong motion.
My eyes close.
We stay still, normal and uninteresting to the outside world, but feeling absolute perfection on the inside.
“Natasha.” His breath stutters. “You feel so fucking good around my cock, baby.”
Usher’s sexy voice calls out as a cloud of arousal hangs heavily over me. I can’t see, I can’t think. I can only feel the large thick muscle that is deep inside my body, throbbing, begging to be fucked hard.
“This cock is yours. Work for it,” he whispers.
My eyes close. Oh, dear god.
“Milk me.”
I squeeze him hard and we both groan silently.
“I can’t move. You need to milk me.” He bites my ear.
I clench.
“Harder,” he groans softly into my ear.
Oh, fucking hell. My head drops down and I start to slowly clench in a rhythm. His breathing picks up and his hand starts to grip my hipbone with force. He’s close, I can feel him swelling inside of me.
We keep going and going and, God, I would give anything for him to throw me across the table and fuck me hard.
My body starts to shudder and I squeeze hard.
One, two, three clenches, and I double over onto the table as he comes in a rush. We stay still, both panting, both lost to our arousal, totally lost to each other.
I sit back and lean my head against his chest as I try to control my breathing, perspiration kissing my skin.
He kisses the side of my face gently and wraps his arms around me and holds me close.
“I should come to the bar with you more often.” I smile into his chin.
He smiles deviously. “Don’t you mean come at the bar more often.”
I giggle loudly and he quickly pulls out and rearranges us both. He picks me up and stands. I turn and face him and his open lips linger on mine.
He looks up as his eyes glance around.
“What are you looking for?”
“A bathroom. My wife needs a clean up.”
Joshua sits at the other end of our table, his dark eyes fixed on me. After our foreplay at the bar two hours ago, my man is ready to fuck and fuck hard. He signals to the door discretely with his chin.
I nod. “Ten minutes,” I mouth.
My eyes wander around again, finding Adrian. “What do you reckon they are talking about?” I whisper to him.
He raises his eyebrows. “Honestly?”
