“What the fuck?” I demand.
His lips curl with disgust at my language. “You must have learned it from your stepmother,” he sneers, his top lip curling with disgust as he observes me. “Being a money-grabbing slut usually takes more practice, but you seem to have got it down to a fine art the first time.”
My mouth hangs open. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I stare at him, the blood whooshing around my head in waves great enough to knock me off-balance.
Suddenly, the door clicks open behind me. I jump and whirl around. Drake is standing there staring at his father, his face black with rage. I have never seen him so furious, not even when he was confronting his father the last time. I swivel back around to face his father and see that his expression has dropped from smug superiority to confusion.
“How much did you hear?” his father asks, and Drake steps up beside me and takes my hand.
“Everything,” he replies, his tone low and menacing. “I heard everything.”
“Son, I’m just trying to do this for your own good,” he says, changing tack, pleading with Drake. “These women, they’ll bleed you dry-”
“Dad, this may come as a shock to you,” Drake interrupts him, “but I don’t give a shit about money. She can have it all as far as I’m concerned.”
His father goes white. “Drake, she’ll take everything from you-”
“Didn’t you hear me? I don’t care if she does!” Drake explodes, dropping my hand. In three strides, he is standing in front of his father. His hands are clenched tight at his sides. If it was not his Dad, he would have knocked him out by now.
“I thought you’d know better than that,” his father spat. “She’s not worth it. She’s nothing but a-”
“Don’t say it, Dad. I don’t want to lose the last bit of respect I have for you.”
“She’s a whore,” his father screamed.
Drake catches his father by the shoulders and begins dragging him towards the door.
“I don’t want to hear it!” He roars, opening the door. “I don’t want to see you here ever again; do you understand me?”
His father stands in the arch of the door frame and shoots a look at me. I know he blames me for this, but he has no one to blame but himself.
“I understand,” he confirms, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Good,” Drake snarls. “Then get out, and don’t come back unless you are prepared to apologize to Reese and talk to her with civility.”
He slams the door in his father’s face, and it echoes throughout the room. Drake comes over to me, and before I can get a word out, his mouth is on mine; he tucks his hands beneath my ass and carries me over to the kitchen counter. He plants me on the polished marble surface, flips my skirt up, and unbuckles his pants.
“Are you okay?” I pant, my eyes already hazy around the edges with how much I want him. Whatever has happened, it has been so intense, and so fast that it feels as though adrenaline is keeping me floating some distance off the ground. Drake rips my panties down roughly. He grabs my legs and throws them over his shoulders, and fisting his cock then positions it at the entrance of my pussy.
“I’m great,” he growls, as he slams his cock into me: it's rock-hard. It’s clear that the intensity of what has just happened is affecting him just as much as it is affecting me.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” I breathe into his ear, wrapping my arms around his neck and brushing my lips against his skin. He groans with pleasure and grabs my legs to pin them back while he fucks me harder. It’s like he’s letting out all the built-up tension of the last couple of weeks out in one furious fuck, and I’m not complaining.
“Fuck him,” he snarls, his voice low and hard. “You’re my life now. It’s you, you, and you for me.”
He’s never taken me like this before, without a second thought. It feels incredible. The urge to touch him overwhelms me, and I sink my fingers into his back and I pull up his shirt so I can feel his bare skin. I lean forward so that I can kiss him once more. He pushes his tongue into my mouth, and we make out ferociously as he continues to screw me on top of the counter. I haven’t really thought about the difference between “making love” and “fucking” before this moment, but right then, I know there is a massive difference.
He drives himself into me, moving his hips back and forth so I can feel the contours of his cock inside me. Jesus, it feels wild and good. I let go and lose myself so completely to him. This is cathartic, a release, a relief. The climax burns through me like a forest fire setting alight everything it comes in contact with. Every thought I have just vanishes into smoke.
A loud scream comes from my mouth, the sound echoing off the walls and all around us. It is guttural and animalistic, and I don’t give a fucking damn. I want to let him know how much pleasure he brings me.
As if he has been holding himself and waiting for me, he drives himself deeply inside me one last time and cums, the muscles in his neck straining hard, as his cock spasms inside me. When it’s over his body slumps against mine. Gently he wraps his arms around me and plants a kiss on my cheek, before moving back slightly so he can look me in the eye while we are still joined. He has an odd expression on his face, and I cock my head to the side and try to read it.
“What’s up?” I ask.
He stares into my eyes. His eyes are wet!
“Drake?” I feel a lance of panic move through my system. What if he is thinking about what his father said? What if he thinks that he is right? I’m socially inferior, but before I can overthink it any further, he turns to me and speaks.
“I love you.”
For a second I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t do anything, then my mouth opens and blurts out the words I’ve been dying to say. “I love you, too!”
We stare at each other for what seems like a lifetime until a radiant smile slowly breaks over his face, and he bends his head and kisses me again. He still looks a bit shell-shocked when he pulls back, and I laugh at his expression.
“You okay?” I ask.
He wraps his arms around me, lifts me off the counter, and while we are still joined he walks towards the bedroom.
“Never better,” he beams at me. “But I missed lunch and I’m ravenous.
I laugh with happiness. And that is a pretty damn good feeling.
Epilogue
Drake
“Drake, I need to tell you something.”
I’ve got my vows in my pocket and I look up at her. She is still wearing her toweling robe, her make-up is half-done, and her hair pulled back into this complicated updo that I intend to ruin the moment I get her alone. I feel my stomach do a flip. Every day I look at her, and she seems to become more and more beautiful.
We agreed to get ready together, to ignore all the stupid traditions that usually came with stuff like this, and now I wonder if she wished for something different. To be honest it’s the wedding I wanted, given the choice, low-key and precious. With the most perfect woman in the world.
My entire world shifted on its axis when I met her. It’s been as though my feet haven’t touched the ground. So much has happened in the last year. We’ve both been caught up in the whirlwind of passion and love that started at our first meeting. Since then, Morgan has recovered, Reese has started college, and I’ve been picked up by another team in the city, a bigger one. I occasionally pass by billboards with my face on them, and it never stops being really fucking weird.
I get to my feet and go over to her. “What’s up?”
She licks her lips. It’s a nervous gesture. She better not be getting wedding jitters because I’m not above hauling her over my shoulder and forcing my damn ring on her finger anyway. The only thing I want is her. Forever.
She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and looks up at me. I notice her hands are laying gently over her stomach, flattening the fabric of her robe over what looks like…
“You’re pregnant,” I breathe, and she nods, eyes wide.
A
smile breaks out across my face, and I scoop her up in my arms and twirl her around and around while she keeps her arms tightly wrapped around my neck, squeals, and tells me that I’m making her giddy.
“You’re pregnant!” I exclaim again, and she nods vigorously.
“Are you happy?”
“Does pizza taste good?”
She giggles like a child. “Yes, pizza tastes good.”
I slide my hand under her robe and she jerks away and slaps my hand. “You’ll spoil my hair. The minister will know exactly what we’ve been up to.”
“No, I won’t.”
She grins. “Promise?”
My hand is already pushing away her white silk panties and stroking her clit. “Promise.”
“Oh, Drake. You know, we won’t be able to just fuck whenever we feel like it when the baby comes, don’t you?”
My hand stills and her hips jerk involuntarily against my hand. My Princess always was a greedy girl. “Why not?” I ask.
“It’ll scare the poor kid.”
“He’s going to learn about it in biology class, anyway?”
“Shut up and fuck me, Drake,”
I don’t need any more encouragement. I’ll sort that kid out when he comes. Get him a stash of lollipops or something and stick him in a crib. It’ll be fine. It’ll always be fine, as long as I’ve got my Reese with me. I let my hand start moving again and Reese sighs with pleasure.
Today is my wedding day, and life is good.
Really, really good.
The End
Copyright © 2017 by River Laurent
The right of River Laurent to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
978-1-911608-04-2
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Quinn
“No fucking way, Kevin. No. Flat out, no,” I burst out.
“Aw…come on, Quinn. You have to help me. I can’t leave her here alone. She’s just a kid. Stella will never send her to me again if she finds out I left her here without adult supervision. It’s partly your fault I have to go anyway,” he cajoled in my ear, his voice slightly muffled. He must have pinned the phone between his shoulder and his ear, to free up his hands so he could pack as he moved around his house.
I’d have taken the trip myself, but they’d specifically requested Kevin. I left some, uh, broken hearts there, last time I went across, and Kevin and I rightly figured they wouldn’t want to see me again too quickly. Either Kevin went or we could lose a potentially huge investor, and neither of us wanted that.
Annoyed, I ran my hands through my hair. I felt like an asshole saying no. Having to run off at the last minute to chase a business deal would have been nothing to him if his daughter hadn’t just arrived on a visit from England where she lived with Kevin’s ex. I know it was only one damn week, but I needed the responsibility of taking care of his teenage daughter in my house like I needed a hole in my head. What did I know about taking care of a girl that age?
“Are you sure there’s no-one else?” I tried with a touch of desperation. “You must have some family around here she could stay with, or-”
“If I did, she’d be there already,” he interrupted. “Come on, man, Please.”
I looked out of the tinted windows of my car, and wished I’d ignored his call and let it go to voicemail. Then I could have gone home, poured myself a generous scotch, and enjoyed my night without having this shit poured all over my head. I had plans this evening. A hot date. A sure thing.
“You know I wouldn’t ask you unless I had no other option,” Kevin added.
“Well, thanks.” I broke into a reluctant grin. You could always trust Kevin to be straight up real. He was right though. I had zero interest in kids. Babies actually made me break out in a sweat. Whiny, clingy things that need changing. Although, I wasn’t always like that. When Kevin first became a father, we had both just turned twenty, and I kind of enjoyed babysitting for him. Not so much the changing diapers thing, but generally, the sensation of interacting with something so harmless and innocent. Besides real babies, I found out very quickly, were a great babe magnet too. Not as good as a sports car, but still surprisingly impressive.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said hastily. “You could be accomplished, charming, and an accommodating human being when you want. I know you can handle this no problem.”
We’d worked together long enough for me to know Kevin didn’t ask for favors when he could fill in the gaps himself. Kevin was one of the good guys and there’s not much I wouldn’t do for him. I drummed my fingers on the window frame and exhaled. “You’re not going to let me get out of this one, are you?”
“Nope,” he said, sensing victory and pressing his point home. “It’s just for a week, less if I can get everything moving by Wednesday. I just don’t want to dump her on anybody she doesn’t know. She only comes over once a year, and I don’t want it to be a drag for her.”
“Yeah, okay.” I sighed.
I knew how dedicated Kevin was to his daughter. He had Madison when he was basically a kid himself, right out of college, at nineteen. She was a mistake, and at first, he was furious with Stella, but the moment he laid eyes on his daughter he fell in love with her. At that time, the two of us were just getting our first business venture off the ground so we used to spend long nights hiding out in our rented apartment working.
When Stella had to work nights, she would drop the kid off at our place and Kevin would set up a crib in the corner just so he could be close to her. She was a good baby. Hardly ever cried and I grew quite fond of her. Then Stella moved back to London and took Madison with her. It broke Kevin’s heart that he could only see his daughter a couple of times a year. He would fly to London once and Stella would bring her over the other time. Stella would then go off to New York shopping and the kid would stay with us. She was a cheeky little monkey then and she brightened up the place for two weeks.
Once, when Madison was about six, Kevin was busy so I took her out for a milkshake. Halfway through, she put her shake down and said, “Would it be okay if I came to stay with Dad and you, Uncle Quinn?”
I was shocked. “What about your poor Mom, kiddo? She’ll be so sad without you.”
Her big blue eyes filled with tears. “I don’t think my Mom wants me anymore. She’s got a new boyfriend now and she always send me to Auntie Marcie’s house to stay the night. I don’t like Auntie Marcie’s boy.”
My gut burned for her. How could Stella do that to the poor child? I told Kevin and they fought about it. He wanted to have her back, but she refused. Things changed after that. Stella refused to come to the States anymore. She decided to send Madison as an unaccompanied child traveler, and he had to go and pick her up from the airport. By then the business had taken off big time so Kevin and I decided to find our own digs and I didn’t really see much of her anymore.
My next memory of her is vague. She must have been twelve or thirteen. Skinny, blonde, steel braces, and so fucking shy she wouldn’t even meet my eyes. She had obviously turned out to be a nice kid, but I didn’t feel the same warmth I’d felt for that sweet child I’d helped to raise, all blonde ringlets and trusting innocence. Or what I had felt when she asked if she could come stay with us. She had become just another kid.
For one reason or another, I ne
ver saw her again. I remember being invited to her sixteenth birthday party, but I ended up not going because of some proposal needed finishing up urgently.
“You’ll take some time to show her around, right?” Kevin asked. “It doesn’t have to be much, but just…take her to a couple of shows or museums, enough to keep her entertained until I get back.”
“You know she’s a grown-ass adult, right?” I asked. “She probably doesn’t want some stuffy, old guy following her around museums.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Just…just don’t let her get into any trouble.”
I frowned. I didn’t like the sound of that. “I’ll try, but I know fuck all about policing a young girl. Get back as soon as you can, okay?”
“You bet I will.”
“Are you going to drop her off?”
“I’m running late. Will you swing by and pick her up from here?”
“When do you have to leave?”
“An hour.”
“I’ll be there before that.”
“Hey, thanks for this, man. I owe you one.”
I hung up, leaned back against the expensive leather of my car, and sighed.
Quinn
By the time I arrived back at my place the Californian sun had begun to set. It glowed like a red ball behind my house, which was set on a hill with an amazing view of the whole city. I parked the car and took the stone steps two at a time. I opened the door, peeled off my jacket and tie, and tossed them over the back of the chair opposite the door.
The housekeeper had been around that morning and the place smelt of lemon oil polish. I liked my place. I had spent thousands getting it designed in a minimalist style. It was a style that photographed well and looked slick when it appeared on the front covers of the lifestyle magazines that ran the occasional profile-story of me.
Dare Me Page 24
