And then she said the words that made me come undone. Take me to bed. I wanted to, god I did. But I knew I was using her, lying to her, and for once in my life, I fucking cared. But seeing her like this in front of me, so fucking vulnerable, so damn pretty, I couldn't resist.
Finally, I pushed past the obstacles in my head and pulled Chloe in by her forearm. She came apart in my arms, melting into my embrace with her whole body molding to fit mine. It felt good, really fucking good, to hold her like that. Like she was made to fit inside my embrace and I was made to make her feel all right.
"Shh, pretty girl," I murmured against her dark, glossy hair. She started sobbing in my arms, taking big gulps of air as she cried. She was so fucking small in my arms, so very fragile, and the desire to touch more of her, to taste her, to put her back together, was making me lose my mind.
"Chloe," I said gently. "Come on, look at me."
Her eyes found mine, and she looked like a doe—scared of everything with those big eyes wide and filled with tears. She was still beautiful, perhaps more so, when she showed me her vulnerable side. I tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and my fingers lingered on her rosy cheeks. She took a breath, short and scared, her lips parting slightly as she looked at me.
Before I could stop myself, my fingers moved from her cheeks to the tiny o-shape her mouth had made. I pressed down on her bottom lip with my thumb, and she opened her mouth. I cursed out loud in a soft voice, and her trusting eyes followed mine as my gaze wandered her face. She was unbelievably beautiful, the kind of girl you'd be more used to seeing on the covers of magazines, not in person. Nothing comparable to the skanks that were usually to be found between my sheets.
She was pure.
I knew she was trouble even before she sucked my thumb between her full lips, licking gently at the tip and giving me that doe-eyed look that made my cock tighten painfully in my trousers. I wanted her, I'd wanted her since I set eyes on her at the party, but now the need to have her was like a magnetic pull that wouldn't fucking let go of me.
She sucked on my thumb and moaned when I bit my lip, her eyes fluttering closed, those long, thick black lashes resting on the tops of her cheeks.
"I want to kiss you," I said. "I have to taste your lips, Chloe."
She let my thumb slip from her mouth with a moan and I wrapped my fingers in her silky hair instead. I pulled back lightly until her pretty face was exposed to me, and my mouth advanced on her lips. When our mouths met, a feeling of pure ecstasy took over my body, and my heart skipped a beat as I tasted those perfect full lips.
She was willing, opening her mouth so wide my tongue slipped between her lips with no trouble at all. I kissed her long and hard and deep, I claimed her mouth as mine, and by the whimpers escaping her soft lips, she told me she knew it was mine now.
I couldn't keep my hands off her. I pushed her gently until her back met a wall, and she moaned into my mouth in a way that made me want to strip her naked right then and there. She arched her back against the wall and I deepened our kiss, demanding more and more from her pretty mouth, making her whole body submit to the whims of mine.
My hands found the sides of her face and I let myself lose all I was in the kiss that was never-ending. I didn't even want it to end, didn't want to fuck her like I usually would. I just wanted more, so much more, from her beautiful little body.
But before I knew it, Chloe pushed me off and reversed our roles until I was the one with my back on the wall. She grinned at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief as her hands went to my shirt. She started unbuttoning it with shaky, clumsy fingers, and I couldn't keep my eyes off her as she licked her lips in concentration. I couldn't even fucking help her, I was so lost in her.
Once she was done with my shirt, she gasped at the sight of my body underneath. I liked to keep in shape, and I knew I looked good, but feeling her wandering eyes on me made me twitch in anticipation. Chloe's eyes widened as she unbuckled my belt, her tiny fingers trembling as she worked on my zipper next.
She pulled my pants down, exposing me in my boxers, and I grabbed her arm gently. "You don't have to do this," I told her, and it took all I had in me not to add, ‘but I really fucking wish you would.’
"I want to," she said, her voice taking on a pleading note. "Please, Asher, I want to taste you, I want to have you in my mouth."
I cursed out loud, unable to hold her back, and my fingers tangled in her hair as she dropped to her knees. I could barely keep my eyes open, watching her pull my boxers down low until my dick sprang free, rock-hard and slick with the pre-cum she'd made me spurt.
Chloe looked up at me from the floor, her eyes glazed over and needy. "You're so big," she said, and my cock twitched when her breath hit the sensitive tip. "I don't know if you'll fit."
"Go on," I practically begged her, losing all self-respect and only feeling this overwhelming need to be inside her. "Try it, Chloe, I want you to fill your mouth with it."
She moaned and kept looking at me as she licked at my tip. It almost made me burst, the mere feeling of her sweet little tongue on my dick, tasting the pre-cum that I'd built up for her. Especially when she groaned and her eyes closed for a mere second, savoring my taste and the feeling of my hard cock on her tongue.
She couldn't get enough after that, slipping me deeper and deeper inside her mouth until I had to hold on to the fucking wall so I wouldn't push her mouth further down my cock. She started sucking and licking clumsily, but it was the best thing I'd ever had done to my cock. The way she looked at me, those eager hands shaking as she kept them on her thighs, it was fucking insane. It was like she knew exactly what I wanted, what I really needed, by taking a mere look at me. And even though she was nervous and shaky, it felt so good I nearly shot my load all over her pretty face.
She went so deep I felt my eyes roll back, and the need to push myself deeper down her throat was fucking overwhelming. My hands left the wall and I needed something more solid to hold on to, or I would've pushed her mouth all the way down my shaft. I rattled around, finding a coffee table, and I tried grabbing on to something to stop myself from hurting Chloe's pretty mouth.
My eyes were closed and I didn't know what the hell I was doing, but I heard the sound of glass breaking and I looked down to find a frame flipped over on the coffee table, the result of my hand trying to find something to stop me from fucking Chloe's mouth.
"Leave it," I groaned as she stopped sucking. "Fucking leave it, Chloe, I need you to keep going, keep fucking going."
She giggled as she looked up at me, her hand finally going to my dick. She stroked me once and I felt it coming. I was fucking frozen to the spot, unable to stop it, like a damn teenager spurting uncontrollably. My cum oozed out of my tip, and Chloe scooted closer on her knees, sticking her tongue out so it dripped inside her mouth. The sight was too much, and I spurted all over her mouth with my hands in my hair, cursing out loud because it was so fucking good, and for once in my life, I let myself lose control.
"Fucking shit," I muttered as she sucked off my cock, licking it dry and cleaning it up with her eyes always on mine. "You're amazing. You're something else, Chloe."
She smiled shyly at me and my dick left her mouth with a pop. I couldn't keep my eyes off her; she was so sultry and so innocent at the same time, and it made me want to fuck her so badly it hurt.
She got up and grinned at me. "Thank you," she said softly, her cheeks blushing. "Could I get a glass of water, please?"
"Yeah, of course." I felt like a damn fool, pulling up my pants and fumbling with my zipper while she smiled at me. "You gonna be okay for a minute?"
She nodded with a pretty smile to accompany it, and I stroked her hair before I disappeared into the kitchen. I found myself almost shaking with my burning need for her as I got a big glass from the cupboard, my cock still twitching in my boxers with the mere thought of her licking me clean.
I filled the glass to the brim and then some, I was so distracted. Finally, I turned off t
he tap and carried the glass back to the living room.
Chloe was on her knees again, in the same spot as before. She looked up at me, and her eyes were wet with tears again.
"What's wrong?" I asked, setting her glass down and stepping toward her. But once I passed the couch, I saw the full picture. She was kneeling with the broken frame in her hands, her fingers tightening on the glass.
"What's this?" she asked, her voice so shaky she could barely form words. “You’re close to this man? How?”
I didn't need to look at the picture to know what it was. The frame I'd broken only moments ago was of my father and myself, the only picture of us in this whole damned place. I'd been smart enough to flip it over earlier, but after I broke it, she must've wanted to clean up, and she saw us together.
"Chloe..." I started gently, but she didn't wait for me to finish. She threw the frame against the wall, and the sound of more glass shattering filled the room, followed by her heavy sobs.
“Who is he to you?” she finally managed to get out, her eyes blazing. “Because I’ll tell you who he is to me. He owns the firm that put my father in jail!”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Robert St Clair is my father," I managed to get out.
“Your father,” she repeated, shaking her head with disbelief. “He’s your father.”
I nodded.
“So your mother….she’s the one who…”
She couldn’t finish that sentence, and she wiped her cheeks and looked down at the floor for a moment before staring back up at me. I knew what she was thinking. I knew how it looked right now. It looked like I’d targeted her because of who she was, preyed upon her as some sort of sick revenge against her father for what he did, as if taking his daughter’s innocence might somehow make up for him taking my mother’s life.
"You're a sick fucking bastard," Chloe said, her voice shaky but filled with so much hate it made me want to hurt myself.
“Chloe, I—”
“Don’t,” she said, her voice deathly soft now. She was angry. So fucking pissed and still so damn pretty. I hated myself in that moment, probably for the first time in years. I really was a grade-A jackass.
"Chloe, please," I said. "I'm fucking sorry. I should've told you. But that’s not why I brought you here. It’s not what it looks like.”
She scoffed at the cliché and shook her head, pushing past me when I came for her. I couldn't blame her. She headed for the door, and I could feel how disgusted she was by the way her whole body shook with anger, radiating hatred and despair.
"If you come near me again, I'll make you regret it," she said before slamming the front door behind her. I was left with a pounding headache and the need to run after her and console her which made an awful concoction of worry and confusion in my head. But I couldn’t go after her, not now that she knew who I was.
Probably not ever.
"Fucking hell," I muttered. "Fucking shit!"
Four
Chloe
Lord, give me strength…
Just when I thought my life couldn’t blow up any more, another bomb had dropped on my head in the form of a man last night.
Asher St Clair. The son of the woman my father allegedly murdered.
Not only that, his father owned the damn law firm which employed the lawyers responsible for prosecuting my father. St Clair himself couldn’t be part of the case due to the obvious conflict of interest, but still, his family had a reason to have it out for my own family, and meeting Asher last night and having him latch onto me had been no coincidence.
He’d obviously known who I was the second he saw me, and he’d set his sights on me like a wolf tracking its prey. It wasn’t hard to see that I was quite innocent in the ways of life—I rarely partied, I dressed quite conservatively, and the general vibe I gave off was ‘preppy little virgin’ according to my best friend Mercedes. I was willing to bet Asher thought it would be some sort of perverted justice to deflower the innocent daughter of the man who’d likely killed his mother. It wouldn’t bring her back, but it might bring him some sort of sick sense of satisfaction. After all, he did say he was skilled in the art of forgetting. Maybe that had been his way of trying to forget everything he’d been through—by fucking me and abandoning me right afterwards.
Well, too bad, Asher, I thought, pressing my lips together in a thin line as I sat up in bed and recalled the events of the previous evening. You didn’t get what you wanted.
And he never would.
If I had it my way, I’d never see him again, but unfortunately we were going to be attending the same college when I started in the fall semester. There was a chance he’d just finished his final year, though—I couldn’t remember if he’d told me how far into his studies he was—so I could only hope that was the case. If it was, then I wouldn’t have to worry about running into him anywhere.
Either way, I was done with him. I never wanted to speak to him again, and at least now I knew who he was. There couldn’t possibly be any more metaphorical bombs dropped on me now.
You know that old saying, though…
Famous last words.
“Victoria, the place looks simply divine, and I can tell you that I already have four extremely interested prospective buyers. I’ll email you their details later, okay?”
My ears pricked up at the mention of my mother’s name in the hallway along with the words ‘prospective buyers’. After storming out of Asher’s place last night, I’d come back to my childhood home to sleep, seeing as I didn’t feel safe at my apartment right now, and my downstairs bedroom was in a prime location for overhearing everything that went on in the hall.
So what was this conversation about? Surely Mom wasn’t selling the house?
No way. She couldn’t. I’d grown up here, spent my life here. Just because I wasn’t exactly thrilled about being here right now—because of my mother’s presence, not the house itself—was no reason to sell it off. But if it were true, had she even planned on consulting me in any way over such a major decision? I knew I’d technically moved out to my new apartment, but that didn’t mean this house on Cherrywood Drive wasn’t still my home.
It was my home.
It always would be, and right now, it was the only place that still held positive memories of my father.
I padded out into the foyer to see Mom standing there with a petite woman clad in a cream-colored suit jacket and black pants. The woman was clutching a clipboard and had that forced grin that all realtors seemed to have, and my heart plummeted into my stomach.
Jesus. She really was selling up. Anything to erase every memory and thought of Dad, I suppose.
“Mom?” I said, my pulse racing as I stepped up to her and the realtor. “What’s going on?”
My mother gave me a tight-lipped smile and held up a hand before turning away. “Thanks so much, Karen. I’ll be in touch.”
The realtor nodded and showed herself out, and Mom turned back to me. “Honey, I had no idea you were here. Let’s go out for breakfast. We can talk there.”
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry,” I said stiffly. “I want to talk now. Are you seriously selling our house?”
She sighed. “I didn’t want you to find out like this. I thought you were staying at your apartment last night.”
“That’s not the point,” I replied, my voice bitter. “And my apartment got trashed by someone. I had to come home last night because I was afraid they’d break in again. They spray-painted all the walls with stuff about Dad.”
“Oh, Chloe, I’m so sorry. You should’ve called me,” she said, reaching out and gently touching a hand to my shoulder.
“It was late,” I mumbled.
She nodded, although there was a brief flash of hurt in her eyes. “Let’s just sit down, okay? I know it’s been a rough time lately, especially after the verdict yesterday. But we knew it was coming, sweetheart.”
“Maybe you did,” I said, following her into the main lounge room. “Some of us were
actually rooting for him.”
Mom sat down across from me, her blue eyes narrowed. “It’s hard to root for a man who ruined your entire life, Chloe. Before everything came out, I loved your father very much. You know that.”
“And yet you filed for divorce literally the second he was arrested,” I said, almost under my breath.
Mom heard me anyway. “I had to, and you know it. Do you have any idea what it’s like to find out your husband had another family? Lied for years? Even if he didn’t kill that woman, he was still guilty of many other things. I couldn’t stay. It was humiliating.”
“Is that why you’re selling the house?” I asked, furrowing my brows. “And if so, why didn’t you do it the second he got arrested a year ago?”
Mom cast her eyes down to her lap. “I couldn’t before now. It was like I was frozen. But now that the trial is over, I feel like I’ve been released from that paralyzed state, in a sense. Like I can start to move on properly. I can start a new life. And part of that means selling this place, Chloe. I know you grew up here. I know this place is filled with wonderful memories for you, and it is for me too. But at the same time, whenever I’m here now, I can’t help but remember how it felt the day I was told about what your father did. I don’t know if I could stay here much longer. This last year has been long enough. It’s all but driven me mad.”
I nodded slowly, my face softening. “Okay. I guess I get it.”
Mom scooted closer to me on the chaise sofa. “Thank you for trying to understand. Like I said, I know how hard this has been on you, not just me.”
“Yeah, it has.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re home with me now, at any rate. It’s been awful having you gone these last few days. I know you’re off to college in a few months, and you know that’s why I bought you that apartment near campus, but I didn’t think you’d go to stay there so soon.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said, a pang of regret stinging my insides. In my anger and resentment toward her, I hadn’t properly considered how awful she must’ve been feeling in all of this. It hadn’t occurred to me that maybe she needed me right now, even more than I needed her or anyone else.
Scandal (A Dirty Money Novel) Page 3
