Cindersmellya: A Dark Comedy Fairytale Romance

by Alexis Angel

  I grip the phone.

  This deal is falling apart.

  Without the assurances, the banks won't guarantee any loan. They won't guarantee our deposits.

  Without those guarantees, my shareholders will never let me fucking invest in Natalie's company.

  Without my investment, or Drake buying her out, Natalie's company won't fulfill it's order and will probably get fucking sued for taking partial payment in bad faith.

  Most likely go out of fucking business.

  Fuck.

  I need to go see Drake Carlton.

  I knew what we had was too good to be true.

  If Drake did screw us, then I'm going to fucking kill him.

  Drake

  I'm drinking my morning coffee when I hear a loud voice.

  "It was you, wasn't it?" The door to my office flies open with one quick thrust, and the gust of wind from its sudden movement causes the paperwork on my desk to flutter. A few sheets slide to the ground.

  Sloane marches over to my desk, pointing at me. He's livid, his nostrils flaring like a bull in a ring. His tie is crooked and he looks as if he's rushed over here.

  Sloppy, I think to myself, and impulsive, per usual. But there's something animalistic and raw that makes my cock pulse. Not now … why is my mind going there?

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I reply, keeping my cool.

  "The fuck you don't!"

  "Calm down; have a seat. Can I offer you a drink?" I ask.

  "Are you fucking listening to me, Drake?" He's now pacing in front of my desk, clenching one fist.

  "I'm listening, but I've got to be honest with you. I'm not following."

  "That's funny, real funny," he says, glaring at me with daggers behind his eyes. "One minute, banks are drooling over Dirty Lil' Angels, they literally can't fucking wait to throw money at the company's feet, and the next minute, well, I'm sure you know all about this, but not a single fucking bank is interested. Poof. Gone. If you tell me you're not behind this, you're a fucking liar."

  I'm watching his fist, and daring him to come at me. I'm daring him to come closer and make the first move. I can only maintain my cool for so long before he pushes me over the fucking edge. He better watch himself.

  I just shake my head, and he laughs. "That's funny … real funny. Give me a break."

  I stand up and walk around my desk, meeting him at eye level. I can no longer take his presence sitting down.

  "You're not ready for the truth," I say.

  "I knew it. I'm not a fucking kid anymore, so stop treating me like one," he growls, the pulse in his neck quickening. I can't help but watch it flutter, and watch the way he's breathing, quicker now, and ragged.

  "I never said you were … although you barging in here like this sure makes you look like one. You should really try to outgrow these temper tantrums of yours."

  With that small dig, he glares at me, and I continue, "Like I said, you aren't ready for the truth."

  "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he snaps, and I watch the chords of muscle in his neck flex and twist.

  "It means you just need to wait."

  "Wait?" he asks, disbelief etched into his face. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

  "I know—it's a foreign concept, but trust me," I reply, sarcastically.

  "It's not a foreign concept; it's fucking impossible. We don't have time to wait. Natalie is counting on this money for Dirty Lil' Angels, and her new prototype isn't going to make itself. She needs this money, and she needs it now. Are you going to stand there and tell me you don't care about any of that? Especially after … everything that's happened?"

  "Look, if you want to know the truth," I say, "yes, I was behind Dirty Lil' Angels' sudden decline in interest."

  "I fucking knew it!" he snaps, and now his jaw is clenched tight. His entire body is as tense as a rubber band, and it's clear he can snap at any minute. He's now facing me square on.

  "It's true, yes, but there's a reason—"

  Sloane cuts me off, his blue eyes flashing cold and dangerous like a sharp, steel blade. "You seriously have a fucking reason?"

  He takes a step closer to me, and the space between us shrinks.

  "I'm going to need you to trust me on this," I say in a firm tone. I'm no longer asking; I'm telling. The tone of my voice escapes my mouth as a sharp command.

  "I have a hard time believing that there's a good enough reason to fuck Natalie over," he replies, and now he steps even closer, pointing a stiff finger into my chest.

  As soon as his finger hits me, I grab his wrist. The movement is swift and hard.

  He growls, "You betrayed Natalie; you betrayed us," and he pushes me back, freeing his wrist from my grasp.

  The force of his thrust causes me to stumble and fall back against my desk, and now my heart is kicking in my chest. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins, and without thinking, I ball my hand into a tight fist. I lunge at him, and throw my fist into his jaw. His reaction is instantaneous and in a split second, I am wrestling him to the ground. He's stronger than I anticipated, but I have the upper hand. I'm on top of him, his legs pinned underneath mine. He's breathing hard into my neck, our muscles pressed into each other.

  He grunts, struggling to get out from underneath me, and I watch as his mouth parts open, ever so slightly. The movement almost seems too delicate. Waves of lust and violence electrify my entire body and I feel my cock hardening on top of him. What's come over me? The sensation of it all causes me to grind my body into his, harder now. Can he feel my hardness in his thigh? I wonder. I fight the urge to bring my mouth to his … and then what? Kiss him? Bite him?

  All of these thoughts cease when as we wrestle, a chair is knocked over. The commotion reverberates throughout the office and we hear CJ run in.

  "What's going on?" she cries out, horror and confusion flooding her face. And behind her, a security guard runs in.

  He's overweight and red in the face, and I can't help but think he looks like an angry tomato.

  "Mr. Hardman, that's enough! We need you to leave this office immediately! Or we'll be forced to call the police," he shouts with as much authority as he can muster.

  I release my grip on Sloane, and we both part ways, standing up and brushing ourselves off. We're both breathing heavy, refusing to look at each other. Sloan clenches his jaw again, and without saying another word, he leaves my office just as quickly as he came.

  Natalie

  This can’t be happening.

  Everything I’ve worked so hard for is at risk. My prototype, my company. All of it is on the line now.

  The moment I knew I had secured the investment I needed, I rolled all my profits into developing my flagship prototype. And now that the banks are retracting their financing, everything might go up in flames. Lovely.

  Fuck. What do I do?

  “Hey, you okay?” Sloane asks, sitting down on the couch by my side. There’s worry in his eyes as he looks at me, and I’m betting that I have an expression of pure shock on my face right now.

  “I can’t believe Drake would do this to me… I just can’t,” I start, balling my hands into fists as a blend of anger and sadness courses through my veins. First my mother, now this. “Not after all we’ve been through…” I whisper, feeling more betrayed than I've ever felt in my entire life. This hurts, it really does.

  “Fuck him, Natalie. Just fuck that guy,” Sloane says, placing his hand on top of mine and trying to force a smile. “I’ll figure this out. I’ll find a way to get you the money you need.”

  “Thank you.” I offer him a pale but genuine smile, even though his words offer nothing but hollow comfort. With the banks out of the equation, there’s no way Drake would secure the amount of money Dirty ‘Lil Angels needs right now. “Thank you for telling me about Drake … and thank you for being here,” I continue, squeezing his hand.

  My stepbrother might be an unrepentant asshole, but he’s so much more than just that. Under that tough surface
there’s a caring man, one that’d go to the end of Earth just to protect the ones he loves.

  He strokes my cheek with the back of his hand, smiling, and I feel a deep sadness taking over me. My brother was supposed to be the asshole, not my stepdad. And now look at me, betrayed by Drake and being comforted by Sloane.

  I know that my mother is involved in this somehow. This whole thing reeks of her. I just don’t know why Drake would take her side. He doesn’t love her, and their marriage was just a thing of convenience, the way I see it. So why? Why would he stab me in the back like this?

  “I know you’re thinking of him, ‘sis,” Sloane says, and I place my hand on top of his and close my eyes, allowing his deep serious voice to calm me down. “But you gotta let it go. We gotta let it go.”

  “Thank you,” I say again, looking into his eyes. I lean toward him and brush my lips against his, his scent and flavor blanketing my mind and easing all the worry floating there. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “I’ll always be here,” he says with a smile, and I can’t help but offer him a wide and genuine smile. He means what he has just said.

  “I know,” I whisper, taking my hands to his face and kissing him. My lips linger on his and, for a moment, we’re alone in the universe. I place one hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat against my palm, and then he pulls me into him.

  Spreading my legs, I climb on top of him and straddle him. I reach for his crotch and flatten the palm of my hand there, feeling his cock harden steadily against my fingers. I press my forehead against his and, looking into his eyes, I unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly. He lifts his body a few inches from the couch, and that’s enough for me to push his boxers down and send them to his knees.

  Grabbing his cock with my hand, I start stroking him softly, desire spreading its wings inside me. Instinct takes the steering wheel and, with my free hand, I grab my dress and hike it up to my waist. I flick my now wet thong to the side and guide his cock home, exhaling sharply as I feel its tip pushing its way past my pussy lips. Easing myself down, I only stop when his long inches are all inside of me, and then I throw both my arms over his shoulders.

  I rock my hips back and forth, taking my time as I build up a rhythm. Right now, there’s more than lust dictating my pace; I feel closer to Sloane, his kindness toward me making me almost desperate for his embrace.

  I thought that his body was engineered for fucking and not lovemaking. But I was wrong. Because right now we aren’t fucking; we’re making love. And it’s exactly what I needed now.

  In his arms, I forget about everything, all the worry drifting away like leaves carried by the autumn wind.

  Our bodies move in unison as if we are one, and we remain in silence just like that, our flesh making all the talk. Words are unnecessary; all I need is to feel him inside of me, his cock pulsing steadily as he rocks his hips against mine. He’s breathing hard, as hard as me, and the way he groans makes me close my eyes and smile. Yes, despite everything, I can still smile.

  As long as Sloane remains with me, I can be happy.

  Our rhythm grows fast and, thrusting harder, Sloane tangles his fingers in my hair and yanks on it, forcing me to throw my head back. He kisses my neck, nibbling at my tender skin, and then rolls over. Without taking his cock out of me, he lays me down on the couch and starts pistoning hard, his lips now locked on mine.

  I kiss him all the way into oblivion, my body tensing up like straight wire. I feel my inner walls tightening up around his cock and I pull back from his kiss, moaning as an orgasm shoots up from my pussy and spears my brain.

  “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I urge him to keep going, still swaying my hips as he fucks me. I want him to go all the way, and he doesn’t need me to tell him that; he can read that in my eyes.

  “Fuck,” he groans, more to himself than to me, and then I feel his cock spasming violently inside my pussy. A second later, he starts gushing his warm seed into me, the ropes of muscles in his arms and chest bulging against his skin as pleasure takes over him. “Oh, fuck,” he repeats, his cock giving its final spasms inside of me, strands of cum dripping out of me and pooling on the couch underneath my body.

  Pulling his cock out of me, Sloane sits up on the couch, his head thrown back against the headrest as he tries to catch his breath. I sit up by his side and reach for his hand, gently squeezing it in mine. I look into his eyes, and what I see forces me to turn my thoughts into words.

  “You felt it too,” I whisper, pursing my lips as my heart calms down.

  “Yeah,” he admits in a low, sorrowful tone.

  As good as this was, sex without Drake simply isn’t the same; I know it, and he knows it. We’ve become three matching pieces and, now that one has gone rogue, we’re like an incomplete puzzle.

  “Fuck this,” Sloane says suddenly, going up to his feet and pulling his pants up. “Let’s get out of here. I know what we need right now.”

  I look at him and run my tongue between my lips, having no idea what could possibly make things better. It’s not like we can stroll into Drake’s office and force him to become the person we want (need) him to be.

  “And what’s that?” I ask him, and his response makes my heart skip a beat. He grins and offers me his hand.

  “I know a place where we can forget about all this fucking bullshit,” he tells me.

  “Where?” I ask, but I already know the answer before he even opens up his mouth. There’s only one place we can go to right now.

  “We’re going to Python.”

  Natalie

  “What the hell happened to Python?” I ask Sloane, looking at the cavernous main room we just stepped into. There are hundreds of people lounging there, drinks in their hands, and there’s a cheery atmosphere to the place. On the stage, three guys are dancing around a woman sitting on a chair, a crown propped up on her forehead; there’s a bachelorette party going on.

  But that’s normal. Python has always been a crazy place where anything can happen. I’ve never been a regular, I just visited once or twice, but the first thing you noticed when you walked in was that Python was a place where you had to leave all taboo and prejudice at the door. That remains the same, but the place is completely different.

  To start with, it’s not even in the same building. And while the old Python was just one floor, this one seems to have taken over a whole building, like some office tower, except instead of having floors packed with pencil pushers, they’re packed with horny women.

  “The owner, Austin, got married,” Drake tells me offhandedly, his eyes wandering over the place as he tries to look for an empty booth—not an easy task.

  “So?”

  “He married Destiny, the one with the club on Broadway. They decided to expand, I guess, and they kicked it up a notch.”

  “Yeah, that’s for sure,” I whisper, looking around the place completely in awe. Jesus, this place is like heaven on Earth. The old Python was completely amazing, but the new one just blows it out of the water.

  “Sloane!” I hear a voice cry out, and I turn on my heels to see a man in a tailored Armani walk toward us. He’s a few inches taller than Sloane, and he looks as ripped as my stepbrother. And these eyes… Jesus, just looking at him makes my insides clench up.

  “Austin!” My brother greets him and shakes his hand, clapping his arm. Austin? The owner? “It’s been a long time, man.”

  “Yeah, too long. And this is…?” Austin asks, turning to me.

  “She’s my… uh, she’s my sister. Well, stepsister. We’re not blood related, you know?” Sloane stammers, but Austin just smiles at that.

  “I see. Nice to meet you,” he shakes my hand, and then winks. “Remember, you’re at home in Python. Real life problems stay at the door. Here, let me hook you up with a decent place.”

  He leads us to a secluded place in the room, a luxury booth in the VIP area. Austin explains to us that Python doesn’t really have a VIP area, everyone is a VIP in here, but he reserves these b
ooths for personal friends.

  “Have fun,” he says with a wink, and then disappears back into the crowd. But not before whispering something into Sloane’s ear.

  “You didn’t tell me that you knew him,” I whisper at him as a waiter comes to grab our order. Sloane simply shrugs.

  “I met him through Drake. They’re good friends, and Austin’s a cool guy.”

  “What was he telling you just now?” I ask him, curiosity getting the best of me.

  “Well… I called him before we came here. He was just telling me that everything’s ready,” he flashes me his grin, and I feel my heart tightening up inside my chest. A surprise? At Python? Oh, God. “If you feel up to it, of course.”

  “Of course I am,” I find myself saying even though I have no idea about what Sloane prepared for me. But it doesn’t matter; I trust him and, right now, all I want to do is forget about the mess Drake puts us in.

  We go though a few cocktails—well, Sloane went for the whisky—and watch the men dance on the stage, the atmosphere in this place making me feel more and more relaxed with each passing second. No wonder the place is packed, this is amazing.

  A shirtless ripped waiter comes to our booth again, but instead of taking the empty glasses and taking another order, he just nods at Sloane.

  “We’re up,” Sloane whispers, getting up from his seat and offering me his hand. I go up to my feet, take his hand in mine, and that’s when the lights go out. I stand there in the darkness, having no idea about what’s going to happen, and then a single spotlight focus on me and Sloane.

  He leads the way toward the stage, and my heart skips a beat when I realize what we’re about to do. Oh God, what have I agreed to?

  We climb the narrow stairs that lead to the stage and, the moment I step there, the spotlight around us widens and a barely audible music starts coming from the overhead speakers.