by Corgan, Sky
“Earl?” I twist around.
He pauses at the end of the hallway, turning his head but not actually looking at me. “Yeah?”
“Thanks,” the word is so soft that it's barely audible.
“You're welcome.”
My gaze falls to the floor and I smile. Maybe this is progress.
“Piper?”
“Hm?” I glance back up at him.
“Would it be okay if I got a lock for my door too?”
“Yeah.” I wipe my eyes with the back of my arm. “Sure. I'll pick one up for you next time I go to the store.”
“Thanks.” He grins back at me, and for the first time since moving back home, I feel like things might be okay.
***
I lie on my back in bed, thinking about so many things. Crying in the hall depleted all of my leftover energy, so I decide to stay home. Besides, after that strange bonding moment with Earl, I started to feel bad about wanting to go out.
I take a shower followed by a nice, long bath. Thoughts of the things that Ann said and the kindness that Earl showed me gives me hope for a better future. I begin to consider how things could be. I'll never be the boys' mother, but at least we can be a family. Family is there for one another.
By the time I return to my bedroom, I'm oddly content. It's only 8 PM, but I'm already tired. The thought of going to bed so early makes me feel old. I have nothing to stay up for though.
“I can't believe I slept so much today and I'm already ready to sleep again.” I toss myself onto the bed.
My mind drifts to what might have happened had I gone to Club Fet tonight. Would Sir Suit have been there? Probably not this early. Maybe not at all, since it's a Sunday. Businessmen typically get their kicks in on Fridays and Saturdays. I'm likely not missing much.
I sigh, hugging myself. The robe I'm wearing is plush and comfortable. Tonight I'm craving a man's embrace though. It's not too late to get up and get dressed, I think briefly. But then laziness takes over and my grip relaxes as I realize that I'm not leaving this bed for the rest of the night.
There's no point in pretending that I'll suddenly get a second wind. I'm down for the night. Submitting to that fact, I pull off my robe and crawl under the covers.
It's nice to be able to sleep naked now that I don't have to worry about being barged in on. It was one of my favorite things about having my own apartment. Back in Utah, I used to walk around naked all of the time on my days off. I don't have that luxury here, but being able to do it in my room is the next best thing.
I purr as I wiggle myself into a comfortable position, picturing Sir Suit's handsome face. His gaze was so intense. How he looked at me made me feel violated in all of the best ways. If he could do that much with just his eyes, I can't even imagine what his hands could do. Or maybe I can. A mischievous grin creeps across my lips as I allow my fingertips to lazily explore down my curves, wondering if he'd be slow and gentle or aggressive and rough.
“Good evening, Miss Gravatt.” He's standing behind me, his large hands sliding over my hips.
In my fantasy, I'm naked, but he's not. We're in some swanky penthouse and he's getting ready to have his way with me. While I have no idea what his voice actually sounds like, I imagine that it's masculine silk. Smooth and powerful and Dominant, but not overbearing or gravelly.
“Good evening, Sir.” I reach back to caress his face, feeling the thinnest layer of stubble brush beneath my fingertips. He smells strong of expensive cologne.
He's not looking at me the same way that he did at Club Fet. That's a look for the chase. He's already caught me. Now his eyes are hooded, knowing that he's about to get what we both deeply desire.
“I've been dreaming about this all day.” He cups my chin, gently pulling my face close to his so that our lips are almost touching. He doesn't kiss me though. He leaves me wanting. Always wanting more of him.
“How about we make your dreams come true?” I turn in his arms, clutching his tie and pulling it out from beneath his suit jacket.
The fantasy fast forwards through the seduction until we get to the good stuff. He already has me so wet and ready, bent over a chair with my ass sticking out. His shirt is unbuttoned, his chiseled chest and abs visually teasing me beneath it. He pulls his cock out of his pants, and I'm more than impressed by its size. It's long and veiny with a thick pink head, swollen and ready to take me to the heights of ecstasy.
I push my hips back towards him, the cool air feeling delicious against my pussy. In real time, my hand slips between my legs, but I imagine that it's his hand warming me up for his entry. He rubs his middle finger delicately across my lower lips, feeling the velvety skin there. Back and forth he pets, and my body responds by growing more aroused. Internally, I'm practically begging for him to thrust a thick digit into me, and then more.
“Please, Sir,” I whisper into the darkness, arching my back to show my need for him.
“You're such a wanton girl,” his voice is husky with amusement.
“I've wanted this since the moment I first laid eyes on you.”
“Is that so?” A short laugh escapes his lips. “I'd certainly hate to disappoint you.”
Just the tip of his finger crests my folds, dipping into the slickness there. He's nowhere near my hole, the slowness of his actions driving me insane. I need to be fucked. The fantasy can't drag on any longer.
He gives me what I want, grabbing his shaft and guiding it to my cunt. I plunge two fingers deeply into my pussy as he plunges his cock into me. It's so wide that it hurts, but it's the amazing kind of pain that quickly melts into pleasure. He grips my hips and slides all the way inside, filling me completely. It's so good.
I whimper as he begins rocking. My core throbs in approval. In and out, full and empty, over and over again. He picks up the pace, his balls slapping against my nub. I use my free hand to stimulate my clit while I finger myself hard and fast. All the while, I picture what his expression might look like. He drags his tongue across his bottom lip, wetting it. His hooded gaze takes my arousal to a new place.
“Fuck me! Yeah! Fuck me hard!” the words come out in a heated blur.
“Fuck you? I'm going to destroy you,” he growls.
His grip tightens around me, his fingers digging into my soft flesh. The bite of pain it causes sends a shudder throughout my entire body. My nipples bead from the waves of bliss rolling through me.
He slams into me again and again. The friction between us sets us both on fire. His breathing is ragged, his muscles contracting beautifully as he works behind me like a machine built for my pleasure.
And then I feel the best thing of all. His dick thickens and twitches as it spews into me. The overwhelming stimulation of it rockets me to the edge. I crumble, squeezing around him as his cock fights against my tightness.
“Oh God.” I tilt my head back as the intensity of the orgasm makes me sees stars.
The fantasy fades away, and I'm left panting on my bed. As my senses return to me, I can still hear the faint sound of the television in the background. It brings me back to reality quicker than I would have liked—makes me wish I would have waited for the boys to go to bed. I needed this though. And now, I need sleep.
***
It's my first day of work, and surprisingly, I'm not nervous at all. Perhaps that lunch with Ann was more helpful than I thought.
All of my feelings of comfort go out the window though when she opens the door to me and I see a look of concern and uncertainty on her face. She's not even smiling, and that makes my heart sink into the pit of my stomach.
“Good morning, Ann,” I greet her in my most cheerful voice.
“Good morning, Piper.” She glances past me.
“Is something wrong?” I try to swallow the fear that I'm about to be fired before I've even begun working for her.
“No. Come on in.” She moves aside to allow me entry. I step into the foyer, then wait for her to close the door and give me instructions. She keeps her head bowed
as if avoiding my gaze. “I'd like for you to make breakfast this morning. Eggs and bacon should be sufficient. Make some toast, too.”
Straight to work. At least, that's a relief.
She leads me into the kitchen where I quickly explore the cabinets and drawers to find everything that I'll need. The space is well organized. All of the pots and pans are neatly placed side by side in the cabinets. The utensils are perfectly stacked in their drawer. Her refrigerator is clean and clutter-free.
Ann takes a seat at the small round breakfast table to watch me work. “I want one egg sunny side up. Two scrambled. You can make yours however you'd like. Make eight pieces of bacon and six pieces of toast. Cook the bacon until it's close to burnt.”
“Yes, ma'am,” I chirp as I pull the carton of eggs from the fridge.
“I'd also like you to put some orange juice in a pitcher. And some milk.”
I smirk at the request. I've never understood people who do such silly things. It makes fewer dishes to wash if you just pour out of the container. But I suppose it doesn't really matter to her since she's not the one who will be washing the dishes.
“I want everything to be perfect.” Ann stands and walks over to the china cabinet to take out place settings. As I glance over, I notice that she's removed three of everything.
“Expecting company?” I ask while heating oil up in a pan.
She finishes placing the plates and cups on the table before pressing both of her palms against it and leaning over looking exhausted. “My son will be joining us.”
“Your son, huh?” I smirk. “Is he single?”
She gives me a warning tilt of her head. “I'm afraid this won't be a pleasant visit.”
“Is that why you're having me make him breakfast? To butter him up?” I try to imagine what Ann's son might look like. If he has her same wispy blonde hair and light brown eyes, he might be quite the looker. That's probably hoping for too much, though. Besides, it's not like I can sleep with my boss' son, so what does it really matter.
“That's a large part of the reason.” She lowers herself back down into one of the chairs.
I place the bacon in the pan that I heated up, one strip at a time. Then I get started on the eggs, making Ann's first, since hers is the only one that's going to be sunny side up. The smell of breakfast food fills the air, making my stomach rumble.
“I need to warn you about my son,” Ann speaks up from the breakfast nook.
“Hm?” I glance over the bar at her.
“The reason he's coming,” she hesitates. “I didn't tell him that I hired you.”
“So?” I open up the breadbox to pull out the loaf of bread and start cutting slices.
“So he's a bit of a control freak. He's not happy that I went behind his back and hired someone to help me around here.”
“I don't see how that's any of his business.” I cut six thick slices of bread and take them over to the toaster, hoping that they'll fit inside. The only time I ever have to cut bread myself is when I'm at a restaurant. Doing it for breakfast just seems kind of weird. I feel like I should have expected that everything Ann had would be homemade, though.
“Butter those, will you?” She nods to the bread.
I set the sliced bread down to grab the butter container from the refrigerator and a knife from one of the drawers before returning to the toaster.
“I just don't want him to scare you away. He can be a little rude and brazen when he's unhappy. He probably won't treat you with much kindness.” Ann scowls. “I know this is a lot to put on you on your first day of work, and you didn't ask for this. I had hoped to keep you a secret, for a while at least.”
The sheer look of fear in her eyes is worrisome. Her son must be a pompous asshole for her to be this upset.
I drop what I'm doing and walk over to Ann, drawing her attention up to me. “Hey.”
She smiles softly, reaching out to take my hand in hers.
“You're a grown woman. You don't need your son bullying you. And I'm certainly not going to let him scare me off if that's not what you want. I'll try my best to be perfect so that he doesn't hate me.” I give her hand a gentle squeeze.
“You're a doll, Piper.” She pats the top of my hand. “But I'm afraid that my son is a stubborn man. It's going to take more than a nice breakfast to sway him. Speaking of which, you're burning the bacon.”
“Oh crap!” I run back to the kitchen. The smoke nearly bowls me over. I'm surprised I didn't smell it sooner.
I grab a fork and try to salvage the bacon though there are some pieces that are far too black for saving. While I'm debating on whether or not I should start over, the doorbell rings. My stomach instantly does a back flip. Ann has me all nervous about meeting her son, and if this is what he walks in on, I definitely won't make a good first impression.
“Could you get that?” Ann gestures towards the door.
A wave of discontent washes over me. Is she so afraid of her son that she won't even answer the door? I should be finishing up cooking breakfast while she buys me time by letting him in. For a moment, I think of saying as much. Instead, I wipe my hands on a dishtowel before scurrying towards the front door. When I get there, I pause. It's my first day at work, and it feels like everything is already going wrong. My day will likely only get worse when I open the door and face Ann's son. Hopefully, he won't be as much of a douchebag as she's making him out to be.
I straighten the front of my dress and inhale deeply before unlocking the door and wrapping my hand around the handle. My mouth curves into the largest fake grin that I can muster, and I internally practice my happiest greeting. When I pull the door open, though, any words that I might have said are replaced by a small gasp. My mouth falls agape, and one of the great mysteries of recent is solved. Sir Suit's eyes are gray.
From the Author
I hope you've enjoyed Torn: Part Two. Part Three will be available shortly.
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Bonus Excerpt from Strife
Life isn't beautiful. Sometimes, it's as ugly as our worst nightmares. This is one of those times.
I kneel before him. He's attractive enough, with short dark hair gelled forward and big green eyes. The suit he's wearing gives the illusion that he's a decent businessman. No one in this business could possibly be decent though.
My heart aches as I realize that this probably won't be enough. It never is with these types of guys who like to take advantage of the vulnerable and desperate. I refuse to be vulnerable, but I'm definitely desperate. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. Otherwise, he would be out of business.
“That's a good girl,” James spreads his legs for me. The lusty sound of his voice makes me want to vomit. I can remember my adopted father saying the same thing to me with the same connotation. It brings back bad memories. Memories that I need therapy for. Therapy that I might never be able to afford.
I reach for his zipper, keeping my hand steady. I've done this dozens of times before, but this time it feels different. If I do a good job, I'll gain employment. The chance to suck a different cock every day of the week. Oh goody.
I bite back the urge to roll my eyes at my internal thoughts. I shouldn't feel so bitter. After all, I'm the one who called him. I'm the one who came here for this. I'm the one who asked for this interview.
I slide the zipper down, and my eyes bore into him. He might take it as a look of seduction, but it's really determination. Determination to do this so that I can earn the money it's going to take to keep a roof ov
er my head and pay for college. Coming out to Hollywood to pursue my dream of being a movie star was a crap shoot. I knew that from the beginning. That's why it's important that I start working on Plan B right away before I end up on the streets.
I won't have to do this forever, I tell myself. Just long enough to get through four years of college. Long enough to destroy me emotionally completely.
Of course, that's what I suspect will happen. I've been through way worse than this though, and I've managed to come through it sane enough to carry on. Then again, I'm doing this voluntarily, so maybe I'm not so sane after all. I don't think it really matters right now. Just do what I have to do to get to my end game, and then worry about fixing myself afterward.
I half expect James' cock to spring forward the second his zipper is down. He doesn't strike me as the type of guy to wear underwear. Despite the very apparent outline of his erection though, I quickly realize that he is wearing underwear and I'll have to reach in there and wrangle out his trouser snake on my own. It feels like a chore. This whole thing feels like a chore—is a chore—but dawdling about won't get it done any faster.
I slick my tongue across my lips. It's meant to look sexy, but my mouth is as dry as the Sahara. I should have drunk more water before I came here. I hadn't expected this. To be honest, I'm not sure what I had expected. The naive part of me had hoped I would just fill out an application, answer some questions, and be on my way. Of course, it's not that easy. It rarely is when you apply somewhere so seedy.
His skin is hot to the touch, his cock thick and ready. I give it a few teasing strokes beneath the thin material of his boxers before I extract it, eying it like a predator does prey. The thought that I'm about to suck off a complete stranger makes me sick, but I had better start getting used to this feeling. I'll experience it a lot in the beginning before my emotions become desensitized to the act. It's merciful the way the body can adapt like that. I'm convinced that anything can become second nature if you do it enough, even the most dastardly of deeds.
