Wicked Sunshine

by Justine Winter

  “And he beat you up because of it?” Doesn’t he sound like a charming guy?

  “No, he beat me because I told him we were done. He didn’t like that I showed him up to his little bitch.”

  Fuck, didn’t I say my mother knows how to pick ‘em? “Did you give the police his name?”

  “Yes, so let them deal with it. I don’t want you involved with this, Grayson.”

  “It’s too late for that,” I say, leaving the room. I seek out Logan, and I’m surprised to see Maya chatting to him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Paparazzi are trying to get in. They’re swarming outside according to my brother.”

  Great. Something else for them to get wrong. “Can you give us a sec, sunshine?”

  Though I have absolutely no desire to keep any secrets from Maya, there are some things her dainty ears are not to be blessed with hearing. This is such an occasion.

  She disappears back to my sister and Cam.

  “I have a name.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  I look him in the eye without blinking. “Definitely. This guy has money, he’ll find a way to hide and he doesn’t deserve to. I want to see him rotting behind bars. Find out how far the cops are with this case then give them a helping hand, a nudge in the right direction.” Which of course means handing the arsehole to the police bound and gagged on a silver platter like a hog. The pig deserves nothing less.

  And Logan knows this. “What about the papz?”

  I rub my forehead. “Find a way to push them back, I don’t want anyone coming up here thinking they can take a picture.” Do they have no fucking morals? Sure, I might be considered a celebrity because I make wealthy amounts of money, but that doesn’t give them the right to invade my privacy. You don’t see me snooping into their homes because their name is on the fucking by-line.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  What the fuck is going on now? Can’t a man deal with one drama at a time?

  I turn to Layla, seeing the spit fly from her mouth. Her fists are bunched at her side, she’s shaking with anger.

  I follow her gaze to the poor bastard under her fire, but my sympathy doesn’t last long once I see why.

  It’s Sabrina. With flowers in her hand. In the same room as Maya. Can anything else go wrong today? It’s not even ten o’clock in the morning yet!

  Do I sound exasperated? I feel it. This popped balloon is losing its air fast.

  I don’t even have the desire to waste my energy in telling her to fuck off. What makes this worse is that Maya doesn’t even know who she is yet, but I can guarantee it won’t take long for my little brainbox to work it out, especially with Layla’s tirade. It’s been made obvious that she has no tolerance for the woman.

  “What are you doing here?” I repeat my sister’s question, stepping closer to the drama bubble that’s bound to suck me in at any moment.

  Sabrina shirks back. What did she expect? Warm fuzzy hugs and a spiel on forgiveness? Uh, keep moving, darling. This train departed a long, long time ago.

  “I heard about your mother. I wanted to wish her a speedy recovery.” She shoves the bouquet of flowers forward as if it makes everything fine.

  It doesn’t, by the way.

  “Sabrina, you need to leave.” Surprisingly, I say that with patience though I can feel the fissure of electricity coming from Maya as I mention her name. Don’t get me wrong, two women wrestling it out is fucking sexy, but not today, not like this. Not with my beautiful queen roughing it up with this waste of space.

  “Do you really want me to go, Grayson? That’s not what you said to my son and I the other night.”

  Can you believe this slut? Her statement isn’t even directed at me. She’s staring at Maya the entire time. Doesn’t it drive you insane when people blatantly lie to get what they want?

  Maya steps up next to me. Can you say tension city? Everyone’s practically choking on the air in here.

  “I find that hard to believe when he came home to fuck me after running into you.”

  I stifle a laugh, but inside I’m relieved that Maya isn’t listening to her bullshit. Thank God Layla told her how much of a manipulator she is.

  Also for full disclosure, we may not have had the sex I planned that night, what with my sister being there and all, but we most definitely did not just go to sleep once bedtime called. If you know what I mean. I told you horror films make chicks horny.

  “So if in your little messed up world you think you satisfy my Grayson enough, think again. Turn around and walk out of this hospital, otherwise I’m sure Layla would love to see you out.”

  My sister is practically glowing with the prospect. This little oestrogen showdown is exciting, isn’t it?

  “I’ll come back at a more convenient time. I see you have your hands full at the moment.”

  I wrap my arm around Maya, keeping her from lunging at Sabrina. “Don’t bother coming back at all, you’re not wanted.”

  I won’t deny her son the care he needs, it’s not his fault he has a manipulator for a mother. But I don’t want to encourage any fantasies this woman has of me. She won’t be inserting herself back into my life. Our run-in at the Foundation wasn’t an invitation to do so.

  She leaves the flowers on a seat, keeping up this weird scenario she’s playing. “No, Grayson. I know you’ll return to me.”

  And off she goes, taking her delusions with her.

  “She’s fucking crazy.” Layla plonks herself down in a seat.

  I agree, but even as I glance at Maya I see that Sabrina’s gotten to her. For all her bravado and trust in me, I see her hurting.

  I pull her in for a hug, squeezing tight. “I love you, sunshine.” I try to reassure her.

  She looks up, her eyes are watering. “I love you, too.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “Because I don’t want to lose you to her.”

  I kiss away her tears. “You won’t even have to fight for me. I’m already yours.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ~ £ ~

  “Have all your business start-ups begun with an extravagant party?”

  “Of course. I told you I like to celebrate every milestone with a reward.”

  “Basically any excuse for a party will do, not to mention a little marketing while you’re at it?”

  “It’s good business.” I glance at Maya in my large bathroom mirror, highly distracted by the sexy lingerie ensemble she’s got going on. Fuck me! How am I supposed to behave knowing this is what awaits me later on? Fucking tease.

  Shit. Here it comes. Instant BBS - Blue Balls Syndrome.

  “You know, it’s in your best interest that my company succeeds,” I say, wrapping my arms around her bared stomach, pressing my cock against her arse.

  “And it will,” she whimpers breathily. “I’m just surprised you didn’t rearrange for a better time. Your mother’s only just gotten out of the hospital.”

  I sigh, kissing the crook of her neck. I can’t seduce my woman whilst she’s talking about my mother.

  Floppy cock in three, two, yep. The soldier is down.

  “And I still had to persuade her to stay home. You’d think that last weekend’s antics would’ve made her more cautious, but no. She still reckons she’s got it in her to prowl the nights.”

  It’s depressing really, isn’t it? She doesn’t seem to have any value for her life. I mean, she’s still heavily bruised, can barely walk without hurting and sporting a very unsexy cast, yet she’s more than willing to put in the effort for a night celebrating the Rush House launch. Oh, and not because she’s proud of me, unbelievably her quest to find Mr. Right isn’t over. Where was that stubborn determination when Layla and I needed her most?

  “I think she’s in denial, maybe once they catch the guy the shock will wear off.”

  I snort. “I’ll put a million pound bet down that when she’s fully recovered this little tragedy will go unheard of again. She do
esn’t care what happens to her.”

  And that has been the way since dad died. Our mother’s only gotten this far because Layla and I dragged her along.

  “That’s really sad, Grayson.”

  I glance at Maya’s disapproving eyes. “I’ve tried giving her all the help she needs. But until she decides she wants it nothing will change. It’s like having a broken foot. With the right care and time it’ll heal, but it won’t work until you make the decision to use it again. It’s fucking frustrating. What’s that saying? You can lead a horse to water or some shit.”

  She nods, seemingly understanding the problem.

  “Despite my own personal dramas, work must go on. I’ve put in too much effort to cancel anything now. Speaking of which. . .” I walk out of the bathroom and into my closet, picking up the garment bag hanging on a rail, and return to my room.

  “What’s in there?” she asks, hands on her hips.

  “This, sunshine, is for you.” I drape the bag across the bed, and nervously wait for her to open it. Have you ever felt that anxiety deep in your stomach when you’re not sure a good idea is as great as you initially think it will be? Well, if I weren’t such a headstrong guy I’m sure I’d be having some kind of panic attack. Internal, of course. Gotta remain cool when you’re freaking the fuck out. Wouldn’t want everyone to pick up on your brand of crazy. Bit of advice? That shit’s reserved for when a wedding band is welded onto a finger indefinitely.

  She’s staring at the hot pink fabric with its diamond detailing without saying a word. Is this something all women do? Torture their men with silence? My hands are getting clammy here.

  “Holy shit! Are those real?”

  Well, not quite the reaction I was going for, but I’ll take it. “Yes, though admittedly I bought it for the colour.” What can I say? My girl looks stunning in pink. It reminds me of our first meeting.

  “Oh, really? I don’t see a pink suit in here.”

  I laugh out loud. “Don’t worry. I have a pink tie to match your beauty.” What? I’m comfortable in my sexuality to pull off a bright pink tie. The press will think I’m sexy as fuck because of it. Trust me, I have experience in this matter. My confidence is to die for.

  She picks the dress up, places it against her body. “Thank you, Grayson. This is beautiful.”

  I shake my head in disagreement. “It’s the canvas that makes the masterpiece, sunshine.”

  Shit, that must have been some line because she’s snacking on my lips, practically thrusting her giant knockers into my hands. Okay, I might be over exaggerating that last part. My hands may or may not have cupped her coconuts on their own volition. What can I say? If a gorgeous woman comes lunging at you, you need to protect her assets. Regardless of the how, I’m still taking a trip into Pleasure City via the Foreplay Freeway.

  But my phone decides to continuously ring just as I’m about to turn down Pussy Lane. I don’t want to answer it, but Maya’s already passing me the thing.

  “What?”

  “Grayson, baby.”

  I freeze, checking the display on my phone again. How the fuck did she get my number?

  “I just wanted to wish you a good time tonight. . .”

  Have you ever tried speaking to your ex-girlfriend on the phone while your tongue is firmly placed on your current girlfriend’s clit? Talk about unfortunate circumstance.

  “Go away, Sabrina.” I hang up the phone, tossing it on the bed and return to the cream I’m so desperate to taste. Within seconds she’s calling again.

  I ignore it, but Maya isn’t so willing to just let it slide. Can’t say I blame her. Would you?

  She’s sitting up, making it clear she’s not in the mood to join me at Orgasm Central. Bugger.

  “Why is she calling you, Grayson?” She folds her arms over her chest, raising her perky tits higher. Fuck me, I can’t think beyond what I know is a pair of dusky pink nipples pointing right at me. If that isn’t an invitation to free them from their fabric cage, then I don’t know what is.

  Here, titty, titty.

  I sigh, rolling on my back. “I have no idea. She’s doing whatever she can to get my attention. But,” I say, lowering my voice. “I’m preoccupied with everything I need right here.”

  “How did she get your number?”

  Christ, doesn’t it make you feel like I’ve done something wrong here? I haven’t, by the way. I’m the innocent schmuck that’s getting the grief from both ends. “How the fuck should I know?”

  “You didn’t give it to her?”

  “Do I look fucking stupid to you?”

  She moves off the bed, clearly angry. “I don’t know what to think, Grayson. Doesn’t it seem a little odd that the only long-term girlfriend you’ve ever had has come running back the second you find someone else?”

  “How the hell is that my fault?”

  Is this making sense to you at all? I’m really befuddled here. But one thing’s for sure. If Sabrina’s intention is to cause a rift between me and Maya, based on Maya’s current reaction I’d say Sabrina’s getting what she wants. But I won’t let her. She’s ruined enough of my life.

  “I’m sick to death of hearing her name popping up out of the blue. I’m doubting everything I know.”

  I stand quickly, this is dangerous talk. Did you ever play lava-floor when you were a kid? You know, jumping from furniture to furniture because the floor was effectively a bright orange pool of liquid fire? Well, this conversation is hitting perilous ground. It’s time for me to steer it back to safety.

  “Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me, sunshine?” I step closer, trailing my thumb across her cheek. Fuck me, it’s like taming a wild animal. One wrong word and she’ll be running away from me.

  She leans into my hand. The first sign of submission. “No, you’ve always told me everything.” She smiles weakly and I know it’s an attempt to ease my feelings, not hers.

  “Haven’t I proven that I’m different with you? Does my love mean nothing?”

  Her head dips. “You’re right. I’m letting my insecurities ruin the bigger picture. I’m sorry.”

  Oh, how easy it is to break someone’s guard when the right weakness is targeted. I fucking hate Sabrina for making Maya feel this way. “Don’t let this crazy bitch ruin our chance of a future together.”

  Her eyes meet mine, and I do what I can to wash away her fears with an all-consuming kiss. Right before my phone starts up again.

  ~ £ ~

  “It is with great satisfaction that I announce the official launch of Rush House tonight. The following Monday will see the wonderful staff filling up their newly renovated offices, and a week later they’ll be looking back at this moment wishing they’d had more to drink.” I laugh to the audience, a mixture of my invited guests and press.

  “I have every belief in the success of this new company, so please join me in raising your glasses.” I stare at Maya in the distance, my eyes never leaving hers. “To brilliant minds paving the literary future.”

  Like a well-rehearsed dance, arms lift in synchronisation as champagne reaches mouths.

  “Enjoy your evening.”

  As predictable as it is you’d have thought I’ve gotten used to being hounded with flashes of light. Not so much. There’s nothing that can really prepare you for the onset of two-minute blindness that follows after. I mean, is it really too much to ask for a photo onslaught without flash?

  I give them their front page news picture then signal to Logan to escort the papz out the door. They have all they need for tonight’s celebration.

  The past week’s been a media nightmare with regards to my mother’s attack. My publicist has earnt every penny of her pay cheque. Who am I kidding? My publicist always deserves her high-paid salary. What is it that Layla says? I rival the Kardashians with my level of exposure.

  Or something. I don’t know. Is that a band?

  And as for speeches. God. Do you ever get bored of listening to your own voice? There’s always
something I’ve gotta make a few lines contribution for, and it’s bloody tiring. Thank you for this, thank you for that. Enjoy drinking my fucking money. I swear, being a billionaire is a lot like living in a circus at times. And you’re the bloody lion balancing on a ball with one leg as you roll across the tightrope whilst playing a sodding violin to keep the baby quiet. It’s exhausting.

  It’s no wonder many of the rich become recluse. Can you blame them when they’re constantly being prodded to do this, that and the other? Come to think of it, hiding away with Maya sounds pretty darn perfect. There might be hope for me yet.

  “Layla tells me she’s joining the team as a temp whilst she’s studying. Isn’t that cheating?” Maya smirks, holding on to my arm.

  I shrug. “I’m putting her foot in the door, but she’ll be the one doing all the hard work to stay there.”

  I’m not exactly making her more privileged than anyone else. She’s still working from the ground up. Right?

  “She’s lucky to have you.”

  I smile, noticing Maya’s glass is empty. Is she tipsy already? “Your brother seems like a good man.”

  “He is. Speaking of which, my mother wants to meet you. Apparently Colton’s been blabbing his mouth about seeing you first last week.” She rolls her eyes.

  “I’d love to meet her. Set it up and tell me when.”

  I wrap my arm around her waist as she sways into my embrace. I sweep her to the dancefloor where Cam and Layla are already bopping to the beat.

  Christ, doesn’t that sound gay? Who the fuck says bopping to the beat? Oh, right. This quaint bastard does.

  It must be the pink tie. I’m channelling Sir Elton John. Hand me some sparkly frames and a piano and I’m good to go. Hold on to your ears though. This tone deaf bugger can wail better than a seal.

  She slinks into my arms, and begins to giggle. I have no idea what’s funny. “Are you drunk?” I ask, a smile on my face.

  She shakes her head no, but she’s smiling. The little liar. “I may or may not be slightly over the legal limit to drive. And my actions may or may not be a direct result from my non-conforming brain functionality due to such toxic levels coursing through my veins.”