by K A Sands
He glared at me, his lips in a tight grimace, fists clenched at the sides of his thighs. I had to give it to him, angry or not, he looked healthy. Happy. Until he’d realised the shit that was tainting his doormat of course. Shame on me for bursting his little bubble of domestic bliss.
“My dad know you’re here?” he asked eventually.
“Well, if he didn’t, he does now.” I looked over his shoulder to where a now dressed Gripp was thumbing something into his phone. Ayden barely turned his head to see what I was motioning to.
“What do you want?”
“You want to do this in the hall?”
He shook his head, a hand reaching for the door. “I don’t wanna do this at all. Fuck. Off.”
Woah, where had my mellow boy gone? I smirked, good for him. “Nice language. He teach you that?”
Laughing humourlessly, he pinned me with yet another derisive look. “Hardly. That was all you, dear mum.”
Gripp had edged closer to the door, and reached out to hook his fingers with Ayden’s, a move to show me just how together they were. But he wasn’t so mouthy now, was he?
“Your uncle’s on his way,” he said into my son’s ear, my skin crawling that I had to watch him so close. I didn’t like it; his filth would taint my son and I just couldn’t have that.
“Let me in,” I said again, “we can all sit and wait for him, should be fun.”
“How could you?”
“Easily.” I answered honestly, knowing fine well what he was asking. How could I try to ruin his father? Fuck his boyfriend? Re appear and turn his world upside down?
“Easily?” Tears glimmered in his eyes as he parroted my question.
I cocked my head to the side. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Don’t know what?”
“Everything.”
Gripp stepped forward then. “You need to leave. My next call is to the police.” He held his phone in the air while he uttered the threat.
He was right, I did need to leave. I wasn’t ready to walk down that road yet. There was a warrant out for my arrest as I’d been implicated in the fire at that bitch’s house. And I wasn’t ready to face either Ryder or Lucca, there was time for that.
“I’ll be seeing you.”
Turning on my heel, I walked back down the hallway, out the front door and into muted darkness, losing myself to the Brighton streets before Ryder had a chance to see me.
Ayden
“Know what?” I asked Shaun as I rounded on him. He reached around and banged the door shut.
“I have no idea, baby.”
“When’s my uncle getting here?”
Pulling at the ends of my hair in frustration, I groaned. The last person I’d expected to see was her, my emotions confused me. I was grateful she was still alive because I hadn’t known if she was one way or another. But to actually see her - yeah, confused.
“He was with Martin at the club, but he’s on his way.” Shaun was quiet for a second, “you all right?”
“No, I’m fucking not,” I admitted to him, raising my voice slightly. “What am I missing here? What haven’t you told me?”
He looked at me blankly. Was he just as puzzled, shocked as I was? I didn’t believe it. He knew something, he had to. This was more than the history he shared with my mother.
Moving to me, he placed a hand on my arm. When I shrugged him off, a look of hurt crossed his face. “Ayden…”
“Don’t fucking Ayden me. What else?”
“Nothing!” he shouted before backing away and walking off into the lounge. “I swear.”
Following, not content to be fobbed off, I watched Shaun grab at the take away tubs, shoving the lids on angrily. Standing in the doorway, I waited him out. He drew up to his full height and looked over his shoulder at me.
“You don’t believe me?”
I was trying to. My mother had always been manipulative, could plant seeds in my head without me realising it, but they always had an element of reality to them, a truth. Why had she come here?
“She wasn’t surprised to see you.”
“No, seems not,” he nodded, before scooping up the tubs. I left him to it, marching down to our bedroom. I dug the lube from my pocket I’d collected earlier, and angrily shoved the tube into a drawer. So much for a night of debauchery. All I had in my head was her.
And him.
Slamming my fist into the mirror above the chest of drawers, I drew my hand back quick when pain slammed through my knuckles. Hearing the shattering of glass, Shaun ran into the room.
“What are you doing?” he hissed.
I couldn’t look at him right then, didn’t want to imagine him with my mother. I’d successfully managed to push that hurt deep down and keep the lid on it. Being confronted with her in the flesh had brought it all back to the surface, roaring back to life with a vengeance.
“Did you enjoy fucking her?” I didn’t know where the question came from, it was a low blow and one Shaun wasn’t standing for.
Tackling me to the bed roughly, he pushed my face into the pillow and sat on my lower back. “Don’t be a prick,” he warned.
“Well?” I goaded, knowing damned well Shaun would explode in anger and hand me my arse. His hand fisted in my hair when he leaned forward, warm breath grazing my ear.
“No,” he ground out, rotating his hips so I could feel his erection against the small of my back. “Only you.” How he could be horny while I was being a dick simply baffled me. “The only person who I have ever enjoyed fucking has been you.”
I groaned into the pillow as his hand gripped tighter in my hair, his weight settling on me. “That right, huh?”
“Yeah, Ayden. Only you,” he said again.
My fight left me. The time to be angry over the situation was long gone, we’d moved so far forward, it was crazy to go backwards. It would always be there, but it didn’t have to destroy us. I was simply shocked at seeing her, being confronted with the past she had with my boyfriend, the past she had with my dad. I shouldn’t be taking it out on Shaun. We’d been there and done that.
Soft kisses peppered my neck as Shaun loosened his grip on me when he sensed the wind falling from my sails. I could still feel his hard on and with that realisation, a tremble ran through me and I started to stiffen myself.
“You need a reminder, baby?” his voice was low, husky - needy.
“Mmhhmm.”
Wiggling my hips underneath him was confirmation enough. Never taking his mouth from me he shimmied back and tucked his knees between my legs, spreading them outwards. A rough hand tugged the back of my sweats down and before I knew it, the hot head of his dick was rubbing back and forth through the cleft of my arse cheeks.
“Spit or lube?”
I didn’t care, just wanted him inside me. With no answer forthcoming he made the decision for me, fumbling around in the drawer for the normal lube that we used a ton of. I heard the cap of the bottle snick open, and the squelch of the liquid as he poured along the top of my crack, the cold liquid dribbling downwards.
His fingers followed quick suit and he gently eased two in at the same time, stretching me painfully. The growl I gave came up from the pit of my belly. He stroked in and out a few times, then replaced his fingers with his cock.
It never got old, when he pushed into me that first time, my heart would multiply its beats and my stomach would clench. I fucking loved the burn.
“Oh, fucking God,” I mumbled, my eyes rolling at the sensation.
“Shut the fuck up and let me remind you who I belong to.”
He pushed my head back into the pillow with more force, then simply took my arse, giving me no room to manoeuvre. With every harsh thrust in he made, I let out an equally harsh grunt, giving him what he wanted. I was at his mercy.
“Hands behind your back.” The order was clipped, like restraining himself had become impossible.
I did as he asked, clasping my fingers together while he took a tight hold of my wrist
s with his free hand, never letting up on my head.
“Fuck, you make me crazy. I’m gonna come soon,” he panted out, his hips working faster.
I stayed silent, getting lost in the raw emotions he always dragged from me at the craziest of times. They ran rampant within, refusing to abate and succumb to the moment.
“Ayden, baby…”
Letting go of my head, he crouched in to take my mouth when I raised my head to catch a decent breath and his kiss. Our teeth clashed as his body shuddered and he wrenched away from me.
“Oh…” he punched in, “oh…” held his hips snug to my arse, his balls resting against mine. “Oh…”
“Ayden!” I startled at the bang of the door and my uncle’s voice booming through the Loft.
“No… fucking… way…” Shaun dragged his hips a couple more times before pulling from me and spilling against my back. “Fuck,” he whispered, “fucking hell. Every time.”
My hard on fled with the second calling of my name. Family had a way of banishing sex quicker than a nun in a porno shop.
“Let me clean you up,” Shaun offered as he rummaged around beside the bed, producing a t shirt that had been stuffed underneath, soft cloth wiping across my skin just seconds later. “You need to go speak to your uncle. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Plopping a chaste kiss to my neck, he rolled off me and headed for the en suite, leaving me extremely unsatisfied and my arse hanging out. Time to move, time to find out what the fuck was going on and what my dad had neglected to tell me.
No more lies, half truths or omissions. I wanted it all.
Stella
Stupid fucking Alexa.
She’d only gone and bagged herself six years in jail, and her kid living with her mother. She’d been too bloody hasty, too greedy, wanted the impossible and I’d told her so when she’d asked for help. But no, she’d wanted Ryder. All she’d ended up with was white tennis shoes with no laces and a six by four she shared with a woman who looked like she belonged in Belmarsh.
It was her place I’d come back to, but I wasn’t up for staying. I’d purchased the little slice of suburbia for her when she’d had her baby. See - not totally heartless. It was too far from Brighton, so I’d found another place on the outskirts. A sprawling flat with sea views that really didn’t appeal to me. It wasn’t the crystal clear blue waters I’d been used to over the past year. Still, the upper floor apartment would do for the purpose I needed it for.
Eat, sleep and plot - in no particular order.
Everything was in my lawyer’s name because I was still being cautious, and most likely ridiculous. They all knew I was back, there was no point in trying to hide it any longer, time was running out.
Monty’s was next. Charlie’s daughter, my focus. I’d heard many things about the girl, nothing at all flattering except the way she opened her legs and the way she bended to her daddy’s will. Her ex relationship with Gripp was what made her interesting, worth scoping out. If I managed to find a crack in her, she’d be perfect for the kind of revenge I had in mind for him.
I dressed carefully, not wanting to garner too much attention in a strip club, although some was inevitable. Guys would have their eyes glued to the strippers, I couldn’t compete with younger women any more, but it didn’t mean when I set my mind to it I couldn’t look just as good as them. I wasn’t a stripper, had never taken my clothes off for money; hadn’t needed to, I’d done far worse. I’d eat those girls for lunch. But I didn’t want to get confused with any of them in Monty’s, so the grey wool pants went on, along with a deep red fitted camisole which complimented the red soled shoes I always wore. A soft leather biker jacket was slung over my shoulders to give me an edgier look, then I was ready.
Purposefully arriving at Monty’s later in the night, the two bouncers at the door eyed me with equal measures of scepticism and appreciation when I flashed them a smile before entering.
The place was just a touch past sleazy and I guessed that would have been Charlie’s daughters doing. He didn’t have a classy bone in his body. It was busy, and I surfed the men’s faces as I waded through the tables, heading for the bar. Two women were at work, punting drinks skilfully while fending off the advances from numerous men vying for their attention.
Hitching up onto a stool, I placed my black clutch in front of me, laying a hand on top. A twenty something beauty made her way down the bar to me, her eyes wide but mocking. I was well aware I was about the only female customer n the club, but her expression rankled me. For all she knew, I was into women and had come for the entertainment.
Twisting my head around, I looked toward said entertainment, feeling a short pang of longing when I scanned up the perfect body of one woman grinding a pole. Oh, to have tits that perky again. Men’s eyes were fixated on them, no one paying me any attention except the bartender.
“Lost?”
There was humour in the answer I returned. “Oh, fab tv show,” I smirked, “right where I’m meant to be, darling.”
My attention veered back to her, she really was stunning. She was Charlie’s daughter for sure, her eyes giving her away, almost identical to her father’s. How he’d produced such a beautiful offspring was an enigma to me. Then again, as much as I despised Ryder, I couldn’t deny he was hot as fuck too.
“You drinking, or looking?”
I scanned around the room again, my gaze stopping in the furthest corner of the club where a man stared at me from the shadows. I was used to the attention, men liking what they saw. I hadn’t succumbed to the cliched ‘mummy’ that Lucca would have preferred. No, I kept myself looking good and held an air of confidence that was difficult not to gravitate toward, especially for men of a certain age. I didn’t like the word cougar, but it described me to a T. I looked away, the eye contact severed, no matter the little thrill that coursed through me.
“I’ll have a vodka on the rocks.”
My tastes were more expensive, but I figured a place like this would have middle shelf at best, if that. Bottom shelf would do if it was all they had, I was only having one and was sure I could gulp down a drink that tasted like lighter fluid and still smile.
I was the master of fakery after all.
The drink arrived quickly and was shoved in front of me, at least the glass looked clean. I took a sip while the woman watched, as if waiting for a compliment. Yeah, bottom shelf. I wrinkled my nose. She’d be waiting a long while.
Placing the short tumbler back down, I cleared my throat. Time to play some games. “I’m looking for Chrissie.”
Her reaction told me she was indeed who I was looking for. Tipping her head at me, she eyed me with curiosity. “Who’s asking?”
Nobody could ever be straight these days and answer a question. I huffed out an impatient sigh. “I am.”
Chrissie rolled her eyes, placing her hands on the bar. “Well, I don’t know you. Drink up, then leave. You’re in the wrong place.”
Feisty little bitch. I liked that.
“I have a job I think might interest you.”
She waved her hand around the bar and snorted. “I have a job. And still, I don’t know you.”
“I know your dad.”
Taking a step back, she glared at me. “Yeah, drink up. You’re definitely in the wrong place.”
“He’s a…friend.” Why that word stuck in my throat then, I didn’t know. He wasn’t. Never had been, never would be.
“Look, lady. If you’re a friend of my dad’s, you’re no friend of mine. I’m not interested. Now fucking leave.”
She snatched up the drink she’d put in front of me not two minutes before, pouring it down the sink under the bar. I was only going to try one more time then I was out of there. I didn’t beg. Ever.
“The job involves Gripp.”
Her hands stilled, and I heard the glass smash when she dropped it against the porcelain of the sink. “Oops,” I grinned at her, winking. When she pinned me with a death glare, I knew I was done. Cutting my losses
, I nodded my head at her. “Just going to use your ladies.”
Casually slipping off the stool, I grabbed my clutch and sauntered off toward the hallway where the toilets were. Chrissie was only one of many avenues I had to get back at Gripp, her reaction to me was no big deal but her reaction to her father was another story. That had been a surprise.
A firm hand grabbed my wrist before I pushed the door open to the ladies, twisting me around and shuffling me against the wall. Lifting my head, I was caught off guard by the intent in the man’s eyes. I was used to being ogled and objectified, but this was something different.
“You find what you were looking for?” He butted his chest against mine, unapologetically stepping into my space, still holding my wrist even while I shook to release myself.
Dropping his hand, I felt the heat of his fingers skim my hip. Oh, Lord. The attraction was instant, and it confused the fuck out of me. I never succumbed to these kinds of scenarios. I kept my head screwed on at all times, but hell, this guy was making me wobble in my four-inch heels.
“Cat got your tongue, beautiful?”
The compliment was lazy, but I took it anyway. “No,” I croaked out, the saliva in my mouth a distant memory.
“No?” His hips made contact with mine then, the length of him pressing into my stomach.
Holy hell.
“You didn’t find, or the cat’s not got your tongue?” That deep voice scraped across my skin in such a way I shuddered. He leaned closer, pushing his erection subtly against me. “Because I can help with both, darling.”
He was older than me, the crow’s feet around his eyes and the dark grey colouring of his hair proof. Maybe late forties, but he carried it well. He had strong, demanding features which I knew made the ladies look twice. I was, wasn’t I? He was also full of himself, his attitude reeked.
“I bet you taste as good as you smell.” He sniffed the air around us, his hand shifting from my side to above my head.
I laughed. I smelled good because I wore expensive perfume, but my pussy was cheap. I’d bet I didn’t taste half as good as he imagined. Still, the thought of a random stranger giving me some pleasure tickled at me.
