Stella:

by K A Sands

  “You happy now, darling?”

  “For now. I always thought the colour brown complimented the cream, don’t you think?”

  “You ruined a beautiful dress. An expensive dress. Nice things bug you, huh? Remind you how ugly you are, babe?”

  Oh, he was good. “You’re psychoanalysing me in an alleyway, Tony?” I shifted on my heels, that familiar swell of unwanted lust stirring.

  “I could do a lot more in an alleyway, love.” He gripped his groin. “You up for it, Stella? Or you gonna run away again, sweetheart?”

  The man had balls, great big fucking balls that I was going to bite if I ever had him naked and under my hands again. “You don’t want me anywhere near you, trust me.” I warned.

  “Why you’re just a little pussy cat, dear Stella. Lemme make you purr, for old times’ sake.”

  He was impossible. I just wanted my car and out of there before anyone came looking for me. I turned my head to check no one had followed me into the alley. It was the wrong move. That split second afforded Tony the time and opportunity to tackle me to the ground, his hand beneath my head so I wouldn’t smack my skull on the concrete.

  “Tony! For fucks sake!” I screamed before his hand clamped firmly over my mouth.

  “I ought to spank your fucking arse,” he seethed. Jesus, where the hell had Lucca found this guy? Always with the threats, full on was too tame for him. “Another skirt, Stella? Driving me fucking nuts, darling.”

  And there it was.

  His weakness. I was his weakness.

  He was attracted to me and didn’t like it. I couldn’t wrestle him from the job he did for Lucca, he’d been with my ex-husband for too long, but I could perhaps use that hard dick currently grinding against me to my advantage. After all, it was what I did best.

  I opened my own legs wider underneath him, inviting him to nestle against me. The fact I was lying in the filth of a smelly alleyway became obsolete. I needed to figure this guy out and how I could get him to take his eyes off me for enough time I needed.

  “Stockings too?”

  Warm fingers inched under the hem of my skirt and tucked under the suspender, giving a harsh twang that snapped against my skin, stinging.

  “I warned you.”

  Hot, minty breath fanned across my cheeks as he removed his hand from my mouth. The urge to kiss those plump lips of his took me by surprise.

  “Women like you need to learn their lessons.”

  I let him talk, while I tried to figure out my angle, my way to get to him. Tomorrow was d-day, he’d be watching me like a hawk. Perhaps inviting him to watch me at my place was the best idea. Give him a front row seat to my life. It could work. The ploy ran around and around in my head and while Tony’s teeth nipped the skin of my neck, I lay pliant below him, plotting.

  Thank God for yellow pages, burner phones and a corrupt lawyer.

  Lucca

  Bitch. She was a fucking bitch. It was one thing to hurt me but to mess with Laura was another. I was livid, absolutely livid. My fiancé was sitting on the floor in the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen on her and Stella had ruined it. Taken something from my woman. My head pounded with so much rage I had to push down so I could get Laura to calm.

  I crouched next to her, my hand soothing down the back of her head and resting on her neck. “Hey, baby,” I tried. Her sobs only coming louder.

  Gathering her into my arms, I sat too, holding onto her. As much as I loved the look of the dress, even stained, I was utterly thankful it was all Stella had done. There would be other dresses, there was only one Laura, I couldn’t get another one of her. She may have been broken hearted, but she was in one piece at least.

  “Lucca…” It was all she could get past her lips as tears spilled down her ruddy cheeks and she cried into my arms.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay.” It wasn’t, not really. I knew this was just the beginning of Stella’s vicious games.

  A harsh gasp from behind alerted us both that Taylor had entered the dressing room, the two assistants following in behind as I looked up. “Why weren’t you here?” I snapped.

  “She wanted a moment to herself,” one of the women said quietly in return. “We’re so sorry, Mr Rinaldi. The lady who came in said she was an aunt. We had no reason to think otherwise and let her come back to see Miss Hamilton.”

  Of course they had no reason to believe Stella was not who she said she was, why would they think differently. “Is she gone?”

  “She hot footed it out of here two minutes ago,” Taylor snarled, climbing down on the floor next to her sister. “How the hell did this happen?”

  “Good question.” Tony had fucked up, lost sight of Stella somewhere. There was no other explanation, he needed to have an answer for me. “You okay here for a minute? I need to make a phone call.”

  “Sure.”

  Taylor carefully took over and I deposited a still sobbing Laura into her arms, she held her almost as tight as I had. Giving me a ‘get it sorted look’, she then shifted her attention to her sister.

  Leaving the dressing room, I yanked my phone from my pocket and called up Tony, his answer swift, like he was waiting for it.

  “Where the hell is she?” I snarled.

  “Let me text you.” He hung up, and my blood boiled hotter as I stared at my phone in disbelief. I paid his wages, not the other way around, perhaps he needed a reminder. A message popped up on my screen and I hastily opened the text.

  Tony: I have her. Two minutes. Sorry.

  Me: Where?

  Tony: I’m @ her car. She ditched me somehow.

  Me: She poured coffee down Laura’s wedding dress.

  Tony: Jesus! I have a bit of a plan. Give me a few hours, see if I can make it work.

  Me: She will not ruin Laura’s day. Make it happen!

  Tony: I’ll take care of it.

  I shoved my phone away in disgust, my eyes travelling around the room, eyeing all the other dresses. “Is there nothing similar that she liked?”

  “There is Mr. Rinaldi. Three in fact, but all would need alterations.”

  “How much?”

  “Oh, tiny really, wouldn’t take long.”

  “No,” I kept my cool, it wasn’t her fault my ex-wife was a demon from hell. “How much in cost?”

  The assistant shook her head. “I’m not sure, Mr Rinaldi. I wouldn’t feel comfortable allowing you to pay for any alterations, considering the incident happened within my shop.” Not the assistant then, the owner.

  “Whatever it takes, make sure she gets it, please.” My tone had softened towards the clearly shaken woman. “And bill me, money doesn’t matter. This isn’t your fault. Just make sure she is as happy as she can be.”

  The woman nodded, then looked down at her feet. “I am truly sorry. It was an extremely beautiful dress that Miss Hamilton looked stunning in, like it was made for her. We’ll do our very best to accommodate her, I promise.”

  Pinching at the bridge of my nose, I mumbled a grateful thankyou in her direction. I hoped Laura could find another dress she would fall in love with as much as the ruined one, but I feared no matter what she wore would be tainted either way, coffee stained or not. The incident would linger, cast a shadow over Laura on her big day.

  I needed the woman gone, I needed Stella out of the way. Laura deserved a day full of happy memories, not a struggle with my ex-wife. Tony had better come through.

  Stella

  Four hours the bastard had sat on my uncomfortably drab sofa. Four. Hours. He tinkered with his phone with not so much as a word passing through his lips. I’d poured a solitary glass of wine, not offering, because fuck him. He wasn’t a guest, had invited himself in. I played along, the desperate slut waiting for a little piece of cock he would invariably offer me sometime soon.

  Didn’t matter. It played into my hands beautifully. I now had a way to get the tenacious PI out of my hair tomorrow.

  I coyly smirked down at my own phone, the fourth burner of the week, the
last still in my possession. The other three had been discretely wiped and deposited in buckets in café restrooms. This one had nothing but random numbers and texts on it of old acquaintances I’d made sure to meet with this past week. If Tony took it, he’d find nothing. No trace of any online orders I’d made, or vehicles I’d rented, or people I’d hired.

  I’d been nothing but careful. Tony was undeniably smart, but I’d like to think I was smarter.

  We sat, me sipping more wine, him studiously concentrating on his ever-beeping phone. I think he looked at me twice in the whole four hours since he’d commandeered my sofa. Wonderful. Now I had to work to do the seducing, rather than wait an eternity for Tony to start it up. Did it matter if I came across as needy? Absolutely not. He’d presented me with an opportunity and what was it they said? Never look a gift horse in the mouth.

  Tony was the horse.

  “You staying a while?” I knew the answer but asked anyway. He thought he was going to be my shadow for the next few days, until the happy couple had safely said their ‘I do’s’. I didn’t think so.

  His eyebrows rose on his forehead, like I’d just asked the dumbest thing of all. “Come on, love. Don’t be naïve.”

  Taking another sip of the wine, I eyed him over the cheap glass. “And you’re going to sit there for two days?”

  “Hardly,” he snorted, his hand rubbing the front of his jeans. Disgusting fucker. “I got plans for you, sweetheart.”

  “Oh, I bet you have.” Joke was on Tony, he just didn’t know it yet. “Sitting watching you tapping out your little love notes to your brother is endearing and all,” I waved my glass in front of me, “maybe it’s better if you talk to him face to face? Invite him over. We could have a great little party, just the three of us.”

  Remembering what he’d said while pinning me to the hood of the car, his reaction told me it had just been talk. Big man talk. He showed zero emotion toward my blatant invite of a threesome with his brother. He was no more sharing me with his brother than I was sailing off into the sunset with a happily ever after. He did, however, splay his legs wider and palm that crotch of his again. Yeah, he had a poker face he’d perfected, but his body gave him away. He was fucking hard for it.

  “Sounds like a great idea.” His voice was flat and uninterested. “Not happening, babe.”

  “Tiny little pecker, huh?”

  He let out another snort of a laugh and finally raised his head to look at me, eyes glistening. “I’m gonna spank your pretty fucking arse for that, doll.”

  “Promises, promises,” I tutted, as if bored of the threat.

  Tony pocketed his phone and stared over at me, like he was trying to figure something out. A long while passed, our gazes locked, never faltering from the other.

  “I shouldn’t like you,” he eventually said on a resigned sigh. “You’re a fucking bitch, Stella. There’s nothing remotely good about you except that magic little pussy of yours.”

  My smirk was easy, I wasn’t offended. I didn’t care nor apologise for who I was, nor did I give a rat’s arse how people perceived me. I didn’t seek out anyone’s approval, especially a man’s. But I wanted to see just how far into me he was, how much advantage I could take, what I could get away with.

  “I guess you’re fucked then?”

  “Why this vendetta?” he shifted to the edge of the sofa, resting his elbows on his knees while he waited for me to answer, as if I was going to spill all and sundry to him. It had an appeal but wasn’t happening. Not now, not ever. I wasn’t anyone’s to pick apart.

  “There’s no vendetta, Tony.”

  “Do you hate Lucca that much?”

  Now there was a raw nerve if ever I had one. I winced, a reaction Tony surely hadn’t missed. Yes, I hated Lucca. I didn’t know how to feel anything else. I hated his father more, but he was no longer around to feel my scorn. So, the son had to pay for the father’s sins.

  “You don’t know anything,” I informed.

  “Then enlighten me,” he said simply.

  Did he think I was going to spill my life at his feet? Moan and cry about how I’d been wronged, how I’d been scorned? He was barking up the wrong tree, had the wrong woman. My anger started to boil like it often did when my husband’s name was mentioned. There wasn’t an ounce of love left inside my charred and blackened heart for the man. There perhaps should have been considering how much time we’d been together, but I couldn’t find it in me, not anymore. The only thing I could admit to myself in the small hours of the darkened mornings was the fact that Lucca was a good man. Through and through. Nothing like his wretched father.

  Tony knew the story, didn’t need me to tell it.

  “Therapy 101 from my own sofa?”

  “Just getting to know you is all, babe.”

  “You don’t want to know me. I will chew you up and spit you out. It’s what I do best.” I smiled and returned his compliment. “You’re an arsehole. There is nothing about you I like except that cock in your pants.”

  “Then this should work out just fine,” he grinned, standing up and rubbing his palms down his jean clad thighs. “I’m gonna ride a pound of flesh from your arse, Stella, darling. And you’re gonna love every minute of it.”

  He was quick, I’d give him that. The glass was snatched from my hand with lightning proficiency, his hard fingers bruising the soft flesh of my wrist as he grabbed me and hauled me up to his chest.

  He could have his pound of flesh, he wouldn’t be the first to take it and I could do to lose some weight. But he was sadly mistaken if he thought he was coming out of this scenario on top. Like I said, the joke was on him. He’d soon see I wasn’t a woman to be fucked with. This time tomorrow, I’d be every colourful curse he could think of; magic pussy would be the furthest thing from his mind.

  Ryder

  “She got the dress?”

  “Yes,” Taylor shouted from down the hall, “and it’s just as beautiful. Wait until you see her.”

  I sagged in relief against the counter, a woman’s dress was a big deal. See, I paid attention when they talked weddings and shit. Taylor came into the kitchen, a wriggling Emily on her hip.

  “Here, let me.” I scooped my daughter from her side and bounced her in front of me, her soft giggles setting me at ease. “What time’s your dad coming?”

  “Any minute.” She pulled out a premade bottle from the fridge while flicking on the kettle at the same time. “We have to be at the hotel in an hour.”

  “How long we there?” I didn’t grudge it one little bit, but I didn’t like that Emily wouldn’t be with us. She was safe enough staying with Phil, I knew that, I just didn’t like being away from her. Separation anxiety or some bullshit like that. Taylor was faring better than me in that department. Who’d have thought it? The player turned overbearing parent.

  “A couple of hours. Laura wants to go through the whole thing.”

  Yeah, I expected she did. Poor woman was a bag of nerves and snapped at anything and everything these days. Lucca had hired extra security, which was absolute shit if you asked me, they shouldn’t have needed any in the first place, but I understood why he did. Stella had made a play. Security was necessary, even if Tony did have her under a false state of house arrest, Lucca was taking no chances.

  Chubby hands tugged at my beard and my attention veered back to my daughter. Not even a year old and she had us all under her tiny little thumb. Full of fire and mischief, even the hard man, Shaun, softened completely around her. She was just like her mother though, the best of hearts out there, no one could deny it. I looked at Emily and my heart pitter pattered every single time.

  “Hey, baby girl,” I whispered into her ear. “You gonna be a good girl for gramps?”

  Phil had been a snivelling mess the instant he set sight on his granddaughter. The love he had for her shone above every other facet of his life, he spent so much time with her I think it eased the pain of losing Emille. He loved ‘his girl’ more than life itself. He spoke
about his wife frequently, but never with sadness, refusing to burden Emily with his wounds even if she was still a small baby.

  And Emily loved him right back. Her face would light up the minute she saw him. The squeal in my ear confirmed that Phil had indeed, only been minutes away. Rushing into the room, he made a beeline for me, or more specifically, Emily. With arms outstretched he made a ‘gimme’ motion with his hands as he grappled her from my arms, and into his chest. Taylor watched from the other side of the room, a smile across her face.

  It was a natural moment, unhindered by stress or worry over tomorrow’s wedding. I crossed the room and folded Taylor under my arm, kissing her head. We both watched our daughter giggle with glee as Phil threw her up in the air, catching her on the way down. Her favourite game.

  “All right you two. We got it from here, don’t we girl?” He hadn’t spared us a single glance, his eyes only for Emily.

  On the back of last minute feeding instructions, Taylor and I left a half hour later feeling safe in the knowledge our little girl was in the best of hands.

  Stella

  My thighs ached. A good ache, a used ache. I was still spread eagled over the back of my sofa, arse in the air. Tony’s sweat slicked torso nailed me in position. He hadn’t come yet which was making me wonder if the tosser had necked a Viagra at some point because he’d been fucking me for a solid hour, a contradiction to the ten or so minutes it had taken him in the back of the Range Rover. I’d come twice, and it had been spectacular. But now I wanted to get under a shower and figure out how to get Tony into the position I needed him in. Unconscious.