by Stella Rhys
“I’m on the pill, Julian,” she breathed. “And I’m clean.”
I looked at her. I had barely returned her last two words before we were kissing so deeply it bordered on violent. She cried out as I ripped her panties clean off her body, tossing them aside to grip my dick and push deep inside her.
I groaned like I was already coming.
I fucking could.
She felt impossibly good. Her warmth, her breath, her skin on mine – nothing in my life had ever felt as right as this. I was grinding deep as it was, but she met me halfway on each thrust, pushing me so far inside her that the pleasure had me feeling fucking drunk. Her pussy was so wet I could hear it, and I knew she had to be dripping onto my sheets as she cried my name.
I couldn’t think. I never felt this way, and on the off chance that I did, I didn’t enjoy it.
But right now, I let myself go. Because the deeper I sunk into Sara, the more I could breathe – the more I actually wanted to breathe. For so long, I hadn’t minded that suffocating weight in my chest. It was just something I carried with me every day, and I accepted it. It kept me accustomed to pain. But now that I knew what lightness felt like, it was all I ever wanted.
It felt better than anything I knew.
And I was pretty sure I could never go back.
SARA
I felt Julian’s eyes on me even as I moved around the kitchen, drying the dishes he’d hand washed. I’d reasoned that there was no sense in running the dishwasher for six dishes, and he lazily argued the opposite point just to rile me up, pretty sure.
He had a different look in his eyes since the morning. I didn’t recognize it, but I loved it. He looked… dare I say relaxed? I was almost sure that was it.
“Let’s just stay another night. We’ll leave for the airport from here,” Julian said, crossing the kitchen and kissing the top of my head on his way to the fridge.
“What? You just told me you had somewhere to be at two. I’m all packed. Once I finish drying this glass, we’re good to go,” I said, watching him grab a water bottle from the fridge and smirk at me as he twisted it open.
“You’re cute when you’re mad at me for something small.”
“Versus?” I reached high to put the water glass back in the cupboard.
“When you’re mad at me for something like forcing you to change into work appropriate clothes.”
I tipped my head back and laughed. “God, that feels like forever ago.”
Julian squinted. “Wasn’t it?” he asked in a way that didn’t require an answer. He was just breezy this morning, and despite our time crunch, I enjoyed watching it as he ambled around the house in a white T-shirt and blue jeans.
“Hey, aren’t you always getting on Emmett for being late?” I teased, drying my hands on a blue-striped cloth napkin. “Julian. Get up off the couch.”
He laughed. “Come here.”
I tried to resist but failed when he patted his lap. Going over to him, I grinned, enjoying the feeling of his chest pressed against mine as I straddled him.
“What’s up?” I cocked my head. “Are you idling because you don’t want to go?”
“Yes.”
I gave a sympathetic smile as I ran my fingertips along his chest. “I can imagine how hard it is to have to smile and fake nice for the rest of your family. I couldn’t forgive them either. But it’s only one day a year. It’s for your grandma. And for Grandpa and Dad.”
“I know.” Julian collected my hands and kissed my fingertips. He didn’t look at me when he said, “I want you to come with me.”
My eyes fluttered. “What?” I bit down on my lip when he looked up at me. “Really?”
“Yes. Will you?”
“Of course,” I blurted. “But… won’t everyone think I’m your girlfriend?”
“Yes. But you can fake it, right?”
“I haven’t had to fake it this entire last month, so I might be out of practice.”
Julian rubbed my thighs. “Are you trying to turn me on or get me out the door?”
“The latter,” I smirked, hopping off his lap so fast he groaned. “Come on, Hoult. Let’s get our asses on that bike. We got this.”
27
SARA
“Oh my God. I’m seeing things. Rosie, am I seeing things?”
Standing before me, literally clutching her pearls was Audrey Hoult, Julian’s beautiful mother who apparently needed her mother-in-law to confirm that I was in fact standing there, and not an illusion.
“Mom,” Julian said with what could only be described as charmed exasperation. We were in the middle of a busy restaurant, and he had warned me she might have this reaction, so I did my best not to giggle. I also made sure to wait till Audrey was visibly breathing again before I introduced myself.
“Oh, no! No handshake. I need to hug the first woman my son’s ever brought home,” she insisted as she wrapped her arms around me. I laughed over her shoulder as Julian stood there, hands in his pockets and eyes locked on me while nodding as if to say, yep, exactly like I warned you.
“Well, technically – ”
“Oh, I know, Julian, technically, we’re not home, this is a restaurant, but still. Sara, please. Come meet Rosemarie.”
I couldn’t help looking completely delighted as I shook hands with the very minuscule Rosemarie Hoult. I felt like I was meeting a celebrity, and it probably showed on my face, because Rosemarie proudly said, “Has he told you my nickname?”
“Rosemarie The Reaper,” I said, prompting laughter from several of the cousins.
“That’s right,” Rosemarie beamed at Julian. “Those boys are terrified of me.”
From there, Rosemarie introduced me to her two children, who I managed to smile for as I shook their hands. I knew they were the ones who had fought like animals over Julian’s grandfather’s property. But I also knew from Julian that Rosemarie, despite deploring her children’s behavior, wished for them to simply be a family again.
So once a year, on their once-customary Sunday, they came together.
“You did better than I did,” Julian murmured to me after I greeted the infamous cousin Paul. He was a balding man in his late thirties with a baby strapped to his chest. He smiled brightly at me and didn’t look particularly villainous, but I knew too well that villains didn’t always look the part.
“Thanks. Are you okay?” I asked Julian, standing close as I held his hand loosely in mine.
“I’m pretty damned good right now, actually,” he said, eyeing something behind me while leaning in to kiss my forehead. “Well. Now I’m just okay,” Julian smirked in a way that told me Emmett was behind us.
I peeked over my shoulder to see him standing there in a black skinny tie and a grey button-up stretched over his big, muscled frame. His adorably deep frown looked like it had no place on his normally jovial face.
“Hi, Emmett,” I smiled.
“Hi. I… think I owe you an apology,” he said, eyeing Julian. “Mind if I borrow her a sec, brother?”
“I do.” Julian’s quick reply made Emmett laugh. “Where are you taking her?”
“Julian,” I flashed a teasing look. Clenching his jaw, he relented.
“Fine, borrow her. But return her to me as soon as possible, please.”
“You got it, lover boy.”
I almost heard Julian’s eyes roll as Emmett walked me out of the bright dining room and into a little greenhouse of a hallway that led to the garden patio outside. I tried not to look too charmed or amused as Emmett struggled with how to start his apology.
“Look, I…” Emmett cleared his throat. “I don’t even… well, first of all – ”
“Emmett. Don’t worry,” I relieved him. “I know it looked pretty bad that night when I ran away. I’m not going to try to explain why I reacted so strongly, but what I will say is that your brother took pretty damned good care of me that night. I’m fine now. You slipped up, but it’s not the end of the world. I had a great weekend, and I’m not angry at
all.”
Emmett blinked, silent for a second.
“Wow. That went a lot better than I thought.”
“What, you thought I was going to be a raging bitch about it?” I teased.
“No, but Julian tore me a new one all night after you guys left. He really didn’t let it go, he was beyond pissed for you. I was about to offer him my truck as an apology.”
“Well, we did take your truck home that night,” I laughed.
“Yeah, but I mean for keeps. Anyway, thank you, Sara. I’m so fucking grateful that you’re not pissed at me,” Emmett exhaled, running a hand over his short-cropped hair. “You probably know this, but my brother likes you a lot. I can tell.”
I smiled. “How can you tell?”
“Man.” Emmett drew in another deep breath as he looked down the hallway and into the dining room. “It’s kind of crazy, but I can see the difference in him. In just the way he looks and talks. Sometimes he can be kind of… vacant. Like he’s on autopilot. And it just feels like he hasn’t been lately.” Emmett squinted as he studied his brother from afar. I turned over to find him sitting with his mother, the two of them laughing. “It feels like he’s actually in the moment, and present, and reacting. Like you flipped a light switch in him. Does that make sense?” he winced.
“It makes perfect sense. And it’s incredibly flattering to me.”
“Well, I’m actually not trying to flatter you,” Emmett grinned. “It’s just the truth. And listen, I know you guys are leaving for Biarritz tomorrow, and I just wanna say, when you’re there with him… if you see or hear anything that mentions the name Lucie, don’t… jump to conclusions. It’s not what you think.”
I grinned at Emmett’s need to protect his brother while trying, for once, not to spill the beans on a secret.
“You’re very sweet, Emmett, but Julian already told me about Liz and Lucie.”
“Jesus fuck, seriously?” Emmett looked bowled over. “Wow, that’s…” He looked at me as if I’d just told him I was secretly the Queen of England. “That’s really fucking amazing. That’s really cool, ‘cause I didn’t think he would ever – ” He cut himself off again. He rubbed his chin and cleared his throat. “Look, I’m supposed to stop blowing up his spot, but I just gotta say – whatever he feels for you, Sara, I think it’s pretty big. Right? It’s gotta be. It took me two years to get the full story about Liz and Lucie out of him. Lukas doesn’t even know most of it, so… thank you for being someone my brother feels like he can talk to. He’s never really chosen to have one of those.”
I bit my grin. I knew Emmett wasn’t trying to flatter me, but somehow, that simple statement had me more honored than I could ever remember feeling.
“Alright.” I heard Julian’s voice shortly after his distinct footsteps started ambling over. “I’m sure whatever you’ve said by now, the damage is sufficient,” he said to his brother. “I’ve come to collect her if you’re finished here.”
“Sure am.”
Julian looked at me with a smile. “I know you might have just reached your limit of Hoults for today, but my mother is requesting some time with you, if that’s okay.”
“That’s more than okay,” I replied.
“Shit, hold on,” Emmett said. “Actually, I have one more thing to say to Sara, okay?” he said, laughing at Julian’s are you shitting me look. “Just go, J. She’ll be right there. I promise,” he insisted.
He kept his eyes on his brother till he turned to leave. Once Julian was out of earshot, Emmett faced me with a grin.
“Look, I just wanted to say… in case he ever pisses you off, because Lord knows he pisses me off a lot… my brother’s a really good man. The best I know. And when he cares about someone, he’ll stop at nothing to make sure that person is happy, and safe, and completely taken care of for the rest of their life,” Emmett said earnestly, completely serious for once. “There’s really only a few people he regards that highly outside his family – Lukas being one of them, and I guess you being the other.”
“Sure you’re not trying to butter me up right now, Emmett?” I teased to disguise the fact that my heart was fluttering.
“Yeah, I’m not smart enough to blow smoke up people’s asses,” Emmett snorted, making me laugh. “What you see is what you get. And honestly, I was just telling you that because sometimes Julian… he can hurt people without realizing,” he said, making my smile falter just a little. “He doesn’t mean to – he’s just so focused on something else, usually work. And if he somehow hurts your feelings during this trip because say, he’s really busy, or distracted, or just plain being himself – just know that it’s worth it to stick around with him. Even if you don’t know what the hell he’s thinking half the time, and you can’t stand that he doesn’t say much. He’s still a good man who’s going to take care of you. I mean he’s definitely the best guy I know. I’m still kind of hoping to be him when I grow up,” Emmett smirked, putting the smile back on my lips.
“Thank you, Emmett. I appreciate it,” I said, giving him a hug.
“Alright. Go talk to my mom now,” he said. “And sorry ahead of time if she brings up grandkids!” he called after me.
28
SARA
The last time I was out of the country was when I was eighteen.
It wasn’t quite summer yet. I had dropped out of school, and I already had a new college lined up to transfer to in the fall.
But that wasn’t for another five or six months, and I hated every minute of being home in my shitty little town.
My father had a thriving law firm about ten minutes away now, so there was no chance of us moving. I was stuck at home in the place that the misery first started, and worse, many of my classmates from high school still lived there. They knew I was back, they knew what I’d done, and it delighted them. They left printouts of the article covering my arrest at our door. They taunted my mother if they saw her at the gas station or grocery store.
I myself didn’t leave the house.
I was terrified.
So eventually, Mom started taking us on mini road trips. She worked part-time at the local library, but she quit the job in order to be home with me every day. And if I had the energy, or found myself in a good enough mood, she’d take me driving to explore the other parts of Texas.
“There’s more than where we live,” she said behind the wheel of her old Camry, wearing sunglasses too big and boxy for her face. “Daddy taught me that,” she added, beaming as much as she could for someone as reserved as she was.
“Yeah, he taught you that by bringing you to London and then forcing you to live here,” I had griped.
“Yes, but now I have a car. I have these big roads. I can go anywhere I want.”
“You never do.”
“What am I doing now?”
“What, it took me getting in trouble for you to start exploring? That’s sad.” My surly teenaged pessimism was a force to be reckoned with.
“Maybe that’s sad,” Mom conceded. “But sometimes it takes a tragedy for us to get moving. To find the strength to look for better things.”
“So I’m a tragedy now?”
Again, the pessimism.
I was definitely not in a particularly charming or likable phase of my life. After the bullying in high school, then the entirely different kind in college, I felt like the world was against me. Sometimes, I felt like even my mom was against me. I could see and feel how much she loved me with every fiber of her being, but sometimes I would catch her gazing at me with almost a fearful look. Like she didn’t quite know who I was, or who I’d grown up to be.
I spent a lot of time in my room just watching movies and TV. Mom offered to sit with me, but she was awful at sitting still, and she always lectured me on my taste in sappy romantic movies.
But the road trips helped us.
They started small, with little half-hour drives to Dallas. Then they got longer. I’d take my Una Magazines with me for those rides. For the three-and-a-half h
our journey to Austin, my dad joined us, and he sang the whole way. My magazines were of particular comfort for me that time as my mother and I switched back and forth between being amused and enraged by him.
In Austin, we went to the botanical garden, and despite my dad’s protests for his weak knees, we hiked Mount Bonnell. At the top, I met two women in their mid-twenties who offered to take a picture of us in front of the view. They wound up inviting the three of us to watch their roller derby bout that night, which we did. Dad loved it. Mom not so much. But she did appreciate that one of the girls spotted me in the stands, and dropped by to say hello.
It was fun. I felt like I made more memories during those trips than I did in all my years at school. I was noticeably brighter after the travels. My mom noticed that. It just made me feel like there was so much more out there than I was giving the world credit for, and that I did in fact have the potential to start over again – for real this time.
For my birthday, my dad suggested we all take a trip back to London. It would be my mom and my first time back since moving to the States.
I didn’t remember much. I realized now that I was four when I left – the same age Lucie was when her mother took her away from Julian. Four years was a significant chunk of time, but apparently still easy to lose grasp of in memory.
The plane ride to the airport was cramped and uncomfortable, and I didn’t feel any kinship to London when our taxi finally arrived into the thick of the city. I felt disappointed that a place that was supposed to be a part of my identity was as much a stranger to me as any other European city might be.
But within two days, I was in love.
I loved how big the city was. I loved the architecture. I loved the way everyone sounded like my dad. Somehow, I felt less like an outsider there than I did at home.
There, it felt like anything was possible.
“You should have found a school to transfer to in London. Your mother would have moved back here with you in a heartbeat,” my dad said as we sat in a café one morning, my mom still asleep.
“Yeah, right. Like you’d survive being away from her so much.”
“I would fly to see you two every Friday. And then I’d return to work on Monday.”
