Kiss and Tell (Scions of Sin Book 2)

by Taylor Holloway

  “I like this corset even more than the bodysuit,” I told her, running my fingertips down her skin to make her shiver beneath me, “but this,” I said, putting a finger between her hip and the thong that was little more than three black strings and a triangle of thin fabric, “is going to have to go away. Right now.”

  I twisted the string in my fist, pulling it away from her body until the elastic snapped with a slight pop.

  “Hey!” She squealed playfully, looking down at her destroyed panties in as I did the same to the T-shaped string connecting over her round rear-end so I could pull the whole thing off, “this was a matching set!”

  “I’ll get you more,” I promised, moving to straddle her and staring down into her warm, chocolate brown eyes from above. I’d buy her as much lingerie as she could stand if she’d wear it for me.

  “Ok,” she said, acquiescing easily and bending forward to assist as I went for the clasp on her strapless bra. I freed her from it, cupping her from beneath before gently pinching and rubbing her nipples into taut, cute little points. She sighed softly and laid back as I played with her body, happily relaxing into my touch.

  Zoey must have been made for me. She had the perfect body as far as I was concerned, and every time I saw her undressed, I was shocked anew by how beautiful her soft, white skin was. Each pink nipple had hardened under my attention, and Zoey whimpered when I licked and blew on them until they swelled further. I was completely transfixed by Zoey’s reactions. Every sigh, whimper, and moan, taught me a little bit more about how to make her happy.

  Zoey, however, was not content just to be played with. She wanted more, and I was more than happy to give it to her. She wriggled beneath me, edging her legs out until my legs were between hers and she was straddling me. Then she rocked us and turned us so that she was on top of me instead. I was happy to let her take the lead. She looked great from this angle as well. She’d been so upset earlier, so seeing her like this—happy, excited, and mischievous—was wonderful.

  She set her hands between my legs with eagerness, unzipping my pants and gripping me firmly. Her hands went to work for a moment, and then her hot tongue and mouth. She sucked me eagerly, licking every inch of my cock and worshipping it with her soft tongue. It was my turn to lay back and enjoy her efforts. Trying not to rush her, I kept my hands off the back of her head, even though I longed to push her mouth faster and harder against me.

  She stopped before I could become too far gone, pulling back her full lips from me and licking them with her red tongue in obvious satisfaction. Then, she turned around completely and lowered her tight body down on me in a reverse-cowgirl position. From this angle I had an excellent view of her round, bouncing ass, and the sight of her soft, wet opening stretching to accept me and then pumping up and down was beyond sexy.

  I couldn’t see her face as she thrusted, but I could hear her little breathy noises as she tipped her head back in pleasure. I gripped at her corseted waist to keep her moving when she hesitated and pulled her back down on me again and again.

  Her noises were becoming increasingly desperate in time with her movements, and I bent my knees and elbows to push myself into more of sitting position with my Zoey still sitting, penetrated deeply on my lap. I grasped her shoulders tightly in my hands, pulling her with me until I was upright, and she was straddling me and bent forward and facing down the length of my legs.

  Now I had Zoey just where I wanted her. I pushed into her soft body with abandon, pulling back on her waist with each upstroke, and feeling my brain go vacant as we pushed ourselves to the limit to make this pleasure for each other. Zoey was saying my name over and over again. She used her arms and abs to push hard onto me, and I felt her come atop me a moment later. Her body tightened forcefully from within and a strangled little cry escaped her lips. The feeling of her clenching hard inside pushed me into my own climax, and I felt myself empty every sensation and thought into her in my release. We panted together as our minds cleared, and she crawled off me moments later, dripping hot fluid from between her legs, and obviously exhausted.

  She righted herself to come back up next to me on a pillow, collapsing down with a satisfied smile on her face before snuggling into my chest like I knew she liked best. I sent my fingers to the eyelets on her corset, freeing her from the binding garment so she’d be more comfortable. I definitely thought we’d earned ourselves a few hours-worth of nap.

  “I feel better now,” she whispered into my chest and I grinned.

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Angelica Hunt Reveals Her Secret Horror

  By Reva Davenport, JuicyNews Style Contributor

  During an exclusive conversation with JuicyNews, heiress Angelica Hunt revealed her private, abusive nightmare at the hands of Russian spy Oleg Kuznetsov, which lasted months. Known to Ms. Hunt as his alter ego, Marcus Sousa, he’d tormented the heiress beginning in January of this year.

  “I first met him at the Waterloo country club,” she said, “and he offered to help me with my tennis technique. He seemed so normal until we were alone together. Then he began to threaten me. He hit me all the time, but he was careful to never leave bruises. His personality totally changed when we were in private.”

  “He said he’d kill me unless I went along with his plan,” she confessed, her famously sapphire-blue eyes wide and frightened just from the memory of her awful experience, “I didn’t know what else to do. He made me feel so alone. So helpless.”

  According to Ms. Hunt, Kuznetsov forced her to give him access to her life and her money. He had free access to her home, and frequently made use of her vehicles. Over time, he also required her to grant him access to parts of her business. Eventually he controlled almost every aspect of her life. Events culminated when Kuznetsov demanded that Ms. Hunt allow him access to the Durant Astronautics facility during the recent unmanned launch.

  “He disappeared during the launch that day,” she recalled, “when I heard about the hacking later, I knew it was him. But what could I do? I was so afraid of him. You can’t imagine how terrible the things he said he would do to me were. I was so frightened of him I could barely breathe. It was all I could do just to keep it together in front of the world.”

  After Kuznetsov died during his arrest, one might be tempted to think that Ms. Hunt’s nightmare would be over, but it wasn’t so. “Someone else started texting me after Marcus died. That person said there were spies everywhere around me,” she asserted, “I couldn’t trust anyone at that point. I was completely controlled by fear. Even after he died, I kept getting these texts telling me what to do and threatening me. So, I followed the instructions I’d been given. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

  Ms. Hunt admits that she was ordered to break into Durant Astronautics during the recent manned launch. She wasn’t told what the instructions were meant to accomplish, and she was too afraid to ask. She suspected that someone wanted to hurt or kill Nathan Breyer, the test pilot and CEO for Durant Astronautics.

  “When I was caught it was actually a relief,” she sighed, “I never wanted anyone to get hurt. I’m so glad this nightmare is finally over.”

  Although Ms. Hunt’s horrifying experience at the hands of Kuznetsov have finally come to an end, her legal battles are just beginning. She is accused of trespassing and theft at Durant Astronautics. At least she now has the opportunity to set the record straight.

  Ms. Hunt is now encouraging battered women everywhere to come forward and confront their abusers. “We can’t just stay silent and let men manipulate and abuse us,” she said, “I never thought something like this could happen to me, but it did. I refuse to stay a victim. The one silver lining through all of this is that I’ve finally found my voice. No matter what, I’m going to come out of this as a stronger person. I’ll never allow anything like this to happen to me again.”

  Ms. Hunt is currently working through her attorney to resolve her legal dispute with Durant Astronautics outside of court. Durant Astronautics has stated
that they don’t comment on ongoing legal proceedings and could not be reached for comment. Ms. Hunt’s attorney, Elijah Jeffries, has released a statement that he expects all charges to be dropped in the near future. It is also relevant to report that Ms. Hunt’s father, Senator Thomas Ellis, sits on the board of Durant Industries, parent company to Durant Astronautics.

  46

  Zoey

  “Good morning ladies and gentlemen,” I began, taking a deep breath before continuing and remembering to smile, “it’s great to be back at the Philadelphia Monitor. I never would have thought that I’d be returning to these offices in this way, but I’m looking forward to getting reacquainted with those of you I know, and meeting everyone new over the next couple of days. Obviously the last few months at the Monitor have been extremely tumultuous. Most of the senior leadership resigned or took retirement packages when GBH purchased the paper, and I know a second acquisition in as many months has sent another tremor through your ranks. I hope you will be willing to stick around though, because The Philadelphia Monitor is an important local paper, and important work is done here every day by the hardworking group of people in this room. My one goal is to see that work continue. In my role as editor, I’m committed to preserving real, local, investigative journalism. We will not become a zombie paper. I’m also committed to learning from and listening to each and every person who works here. My door is always open, and I invite all of us to be patient and generous with one another as we learn to function as a team. To that end, I have a few leadership changes to announce, as well as a number of new strategic initiatives to share…”

  The rest of my remarks passed by in a whirl. Nathan had helped me with my speech until late into the night. Although there were plenty of skeptics in the crowd in front of me, nearly everyone realized that no matter how inept I proved to be, the Monitor had just been rescued from certain death. Even Phil looked halfway interested in what I had to say.

  The last two weeks had been difficult, but it had been the best type of challenge. I’d moved in with Nathan, sharing his apartment, his bed, and his life. This wasn’t the difficult part at all, actually. Merging our lives together had been shockingly simple. Combining ourselves into a live-in couple had been just like pouring cream: smooth, unblemished, fluid, and pleasing. The rest of my life? Not so much.

  Although instantly receiving my dream job sounded perfect, it’s incredibly challenging to run a newspaper even for the hardworking people who grow into it over decades. I had to learn everything overnight. Learning the ins and outs of The Philadelphia Monitor’s finances, operations, and management structure was still a work in progress.

  Nathan was behind me one hundred percent and having him as my cheerleader and confidant made me feel like I could take on the impossible. Maybe my headstrong naïveté was exactly what the Monitor needed? We were going to find out.

  Today was my first full day in the office, my office, and it felt beyond bizarre to be looking out a nice window instead of cramped up in a little desk in the bull pen. I stared at my to-do list in dismay. There were fifty-seven items on it. My schedule, which I had carefully prepared the night before, was already ruined. And it was only nine am.

  “Ms. Atkinson?” A soft knock and voice at my door pulled my attention to Janice, my nineteen-year-old new assistant. “There’s a woman here to see you. She’s not on the schedule but she says that she knows you. Her name is Tara Waits.”

  Tara was here to see me? I’d had no contact whatsoever with Angelica or Tara since following them into Durant Astronautics two weeks ago during the launch. In all honesty, I just wanted that chapter of my life closed. Apparently, Tara had other ideas.

  “Ok Janice,” I said reluctantly, “please show her in.”

  The polished young woman who entered my office a moment later looked nothing like the Tara I knew. Her smooth, red hair had been blown out into a coppery, shiny sheet that hung loose down her back, and her expertly applied makeup flattered her paper white complexion and enormous pale blue eyes. She was dressed for business in an emerald sheath dress that I instantly wanted in my own closet. Tara was a total knockout.

  “Tara?” I stuttered, bewildered by the abrupt change in her appearance. She even walked differently. Her head was held high, and she wasn’t shuffling her feet.

  “Yeah, it’s still me,” she said in her girlish, high pitched voice, “you didn’t think I really dressed like that did you?”

  “Not really,” I admitted, fighting a smirk, “does this mean you quit working for Angelica?”

  Tara nodded, frowning deeply. She perched on the edge of a chair and regarded me with a serious expression.

  “Angelica screwed me over. Because of her I got arrested,” she pouted, “and she’s going to get away with everything because she’s Angelica Hunt, America’s freakin’ princess.”

  I couldn’t blame Tara for being resentful. It did seem like Angelica always managed to weasel her way out of any consequences to her actions. This time, however, I had a bit more sympathy.

  “She was being manipulated by a dangerous foreign agent,” I reminded Tara gently, “he was threatening and abusing her.”

  No matter how much I disliked Angelica, domestic abuse was never ok.

  Tara snorted. “Bullshit,” she said, shocking me to my core. I’d never seen Tara exhibit so much as a hint of real personality. I supposed she’d been playing her role as Angelica’s sad sack assistant even more purposefully than I’d realized. If she already had all her feelings beaten out of her, maybe Angelica thought there was nothing left to torment? It made a twisted kind of sense. Tara was a hell of a lot smarter than I’d realized.

  “Angelica wasn’t being abused by Marcus,” Tara told me snidely, “she was being blackmailed by him. He never touched her because he never needed or wanted to. Their whole ‘relationship’ was a farce so he could keep her on a tight leash. They loathed each other. Angelica murdered her husband, and Marcus knew. And I have the proof.”

  My breath caught in my throat and my jaw went slack. Angelica murdered Albert? It’s not like it was unbelievable. Plenty of people, including his own heirs thought that he’d been killed. Even though he was an old man, all the people close to him had said he was in excellent health. This was a big story. A massive story actually. Only it shouldn’t be coming across my desk.

  “Tara, if that’s true, why didn’t you tell the police?” I asked. She had ample opportunity to bring this to light when she’d been arrested, let alone beforehand. Murder was usually taken seriously by the Philly PD, even if they were useless racists most of the time.

  Tara shook her head. “Come on Zoey, you know better than that! Angelica’s family practically owns this town. Her father is a United States Senator. Her attorney is the scariest man I’ve ever met, including Marcus or Oleg or whatever his name is. I know money talks. You should have seen how Angelica was treated when she got arrested. They practically rolled out the red carpet for her. She spent most of her time “locked up” taking selfies with the guards. She got to eat real food, and she got to skip the messed-up strip search. Meanwhile I got shoved in with all the drunks and the prostitutes. And for doing what? Just doing my job.”

  I considered what she was saying. It all checked out. I could only imagine Angelica’s family connections would have made her brief time in the clink a lot more pleasant.

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked her, still not sure if I could trust Tara. She was a lot smarter and more cunning than I’d ever realized. Sometimes I wondered if everyone around me wore a mask. First Julieta, and now Tara were proving to be quite different than I initially thought. At least I’d had some inkling about Tara, I thought to myself, so my instincts aren’t totally trash.

  “Because I’m sick and tired of getting pushed around,” she said earnestly, “I’ve worked for Angelica for three years. She treated me like dirt, which I expected and considered part of the job, but she treats everyone like dirt. You’ve seen her up close, but y
ou’ve never really seen her in private. There’s something really wrong with her. She’s dangerous, unhinged. And everyone’s just protecting her because she’s pretty and rich. No one stands up to her, ever. Except you.”

  My piece on Angelica had become something of a minor sensation. I’d gotten plenty of hate mail over it, and just as much fan mail. Even Julieta called to congratulate me on it, although I didn’t answer, forcing her to leave it on my voicemail. The one reason I probably hadn’t been driven out of the Monitor’s offices today at the end of a pitchfork was because someone from the New York Times praised it and commented that my piece took “courage”. The fact that it came out right after her arrest helped its popularity immensely, although it was quickly eclipsed by her story of domestic abuse.

  Plenty of people—in fact, most people—seemed to be highly skeptical of Angelica’s story.

  “Who else knows about this?” I asked. If Tara was shopping her story, or planning to, I needed to act quickly.

  “Nobody except Angelica,” Tara said, “and she doesn’t know that I know. She always thought I was as dull and boring as I seemed. Half the time she didn’t even realize I was in the room with her. I was practically invisible to her, like I was part of the decor.”

  I believed that one hundred percent. Angelica clearly viewed Tara more as an extension of herself than a distinct, whole person. It would be deliciously ironic if it proved to be her downfall.

  “I can’t offer you any money,” I told Tara, “if we run with your story and publish it, you won’t get paid.”