Marbella Twist

by Camille Oster

  “Let’s go,” she said, getting up. The fluffy, soft cardigan was now too much and she took it off. It wasn’t all that was going to come off. He was going to spend the afternoon buried in her thighs.

  They walked to their respective cars. “I’ll see you there,” she said and got in. He watched her as she reversed out and drove away. Taking a moment, he knew that something in all of this wasn’t right, wasn’t sustainable. It was good, but good wasn’t to be trusted. They were, after all, not of the same kind. With all that she was, she wasn’t the right kind of girl.

  Pushing that out of his mind, he turned the ignition and drove to her house. Right or wrong, there was sex, and awesome sex. She didn’t see him as a boyfriend, so what was the harm? They were enjoying themselves and having a good time, and she’d stated once that she was only doing this, doing him, for convenience. Obviously, there was more to it than simply convenience. She was into him.

  Esme stood by the kitchen when he walked into the cool house. The large, open plan core of the house kept the heat away. A glass of guava juice sat waiting for him. Fucking guava juice, the most pointless drink of all. He sipped it. His body felt heavy with desire and he already had a semi throbbing with anticipation.

  Putting the glass down, he pulled her into a kiss, feeling her lush body along his. Esme leisurely put her arms around his neck, welcoming the embrace. This was why they were both here. The taste of her was second nature now, the feel of her so familiar.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she said breathily.

  How was it that he’d managed to hook up with a girl who liked sex as much as he did? That was truly amazing.

  There was a hum of energy through his entire body as he walked up their stairs, her hand in his. They didn’t bother closing the door. No one was ever here this time of day.

  Standing still, he let Esme undress him, unbutton his shirt and then undid his belt. His cock was hard by now and jutted out beneath his boxers. Releasing it, she took the tip in her mouth and Inns groaned. She was an utter goddess, taking him deeper in her mouth. Letting himself relax, he enjoyed her ministrations, fairly confident he could stop himself from coming just yet.

  Nope, she was working him too vigorously and the tension built unbearably. Everything tightened and he came, his hand unwittingly clasped in her hair as he rode through the wild eddies. Stunningly glorious, he marvelled as he looked down on her. Everything about her was perfect and he would return the favour now until he’d recuperated enough to bury himself deep in her. Esme could come more than once, which was nothing short of a gift from heaven.

  Urging her to sit back on the bed, he pushed her skirt up, dragging her silky underwear down over her knees. Back at boarding school, how many times had he dreamed of doing this to a girl. Countless. Her legs parted for him and he pleasured her until she moaned, until her hand massaged through his hair, urging his diligent tongue for more. Wetness flowed out of her as she arched into her orgasm.

  He was actually damned good at this. It was a worry that had plagued him in his formative years, but he was quite a decent fuck. It the aftermath of her orgasm, it was time to do some work. He lined up and pushed into her, knowing she was overly sensitive. Her reception quickly turned to pleasure and he pumped in and out of her.

  “God, I love this,” he said, stopping himself from saying ‘you’. Obviously, there was a part of him that was supremely grateful to her, not half by simply enjoying it. Is this what a good marriage would be like, having insane sex every day? Well, not in his experience, but technically, it could be possible. Was this what her marriage would be like? Would she require pleasuring every day? A man to be her slave?

  The thought of it sent him over the edge and out of control. He came hard, almost painfully through shuddering waves of exquisiteness. Every thought or concern drained out of him. Her insides pulsed around him and she moaned loudly though her own release.

  “You alright, baby?” she asked as he shuddered repeatedly from the intense aftershocks.

  “Yeah,” he said and collapsed on top of her, pressing down onto her softness.

  “We’re good together,” she said.

  “We’re the best,” he conceded. Her arms wrapped around him and Inns’ breath calmed until he could breathe deeply again, drawing in her wonderful scent of sex and perfume, and just her. “You’re the best.”

  “Afterglow exaltations. At the right moment, you’re downright sweet, Inns.”

  “Well, don’t tell anyone. You will ruin my carefully crafted reputation.”

  She smiled and he pushed himself up, looking down at her. How had he been so lucky the day Esme had walked into the classroom and seen something in him worth exploring? Was she uncovering what she’d expected? The look on her face said she adored him. How could that even be?

  Chapter 39

  There wasn’t an invitation in town that didn’t find itself to Cheyenne’s door these days. Her success had exceeded even her expectations. Over the last couple of weeks, she had become a fixture with the tennis ladies, particularly with Samara. They both had an unapologetic attitude to their wealth, beauty and success, and Cheyenne found a kindred spirit in the other woman.

  All the bitches who had been nasty to her were now green with envy and feared her—and forgiveness really wasn’t in her nature. Firstly, she’d dispatched of the nasty Bridgit, who had been the source of her previous difficulties in Marbella. Obviously, she had never been powerful enough to achieve it, but her complicity had given ammunition to those who were, and that shit wasn’t forgivable in Cheyenne’s books.

  Bridgit had now left town, and some of the other people who had exerted their power over Cheyenne were now on the outs in this town—their company a little less appealing. Sadly, it was all these women had in their pathetic lives, their standing on the social ladder. One had to be strong beyond the social ladder to truly rule the social ladder, like Samara. Richer than god and didn’t give a fuck.

  Samara was having a little dinner party that night for a more exclusive group. Small parties like these were how power was exercised. Cheyenne was looking forward to it. In fact, she would go so far as to say that she liked Samara enough to even consider friendship with the woman. Friendship with females wasn’t territory she’d ventured into. Jealousy had ruined early ones and it just hadn’t been worth the effort since. Samara wasn’t jealous; she didn’t need to be. She ran the world and she knew it, and wasn’t crazy enough to need to be a complete empress, and that was cool.

  Sitting by the pool at the hotel, Cheyenne looked out over the view. It was gorgeous and Cheyenne felt a level of calm she hadn’t before. Everything was coming together nicely.

  “Hey,” Roan’s gruff voice said and he came out in his boxers and a white robe drifting off his shoulders. Cheyenne let her eyes roam his body. Things were definitely good. “How about we stay in tonight?”

  “But Samara has invited us around,” Cheyenne said disbelievingly. “We’ve already accepted.”

  “Sometimes it would be nice to not go out and just do stuff here.”

  “It’s never going to be healthy cocooning ourselves, Roan.”

  Roan shrugged. What was up with him? Where was this coming from?

  “I just feel a bit… I don’t know. Like we don’t have that intimacy between us.”

  “Maybe because we live in a hotel. How are we going to feel settled if we don’t get a place? I know we’ve been looking and haven’t found the right place. Maybe we should just get a place anyway,” she said.

  Roan leaned back on his elbow, his powerful thighs looking relaxed. Cheyenne felt her insides quicken, seeking the silky material over the contours inside his boxers. There was nothing wrong with the sex. They typically did it more than once a day. There had been no complaints in that department.

  “Sometimes it would just be nice to stay home and watch a movie, or something.”

  Cheyenne raised her eyebrows in surprise. Stay home and watch movies? She couldn’t think of any
thing more pedestrian and pointless. “Sure,” she said. “Just not tonight, because I did promise we would be there.”

  “I’m just not in the mood.”

  She could tell by his expression that he was serious. No doubt this was some new phase in his midlife crises. Well, since he wasn’t even pushing mid-thirties, it had to be called something else. “Why don’t you stay home and watch some sports, and I’ll sneak away a bit early.” It was a compromise she could live with. The truth was that she hated staying home. It felt like failure.

  Roan rose without saying anything. What was up with him? It wasn’t as if she could ask, because he couldn’t really explain himself and these moods that seemed to flow over him. Actors were temperamental—that was their nature.

  Fine, if he needed to stay in and watch some stupid movies, then she would just have to make some time for that. Compromises had to be made in relationships.

  “The girls will be very disappointed though,” she pointed out. “They do adore your company.”

  “Don’t care,” she thought she heard Roan mutter. Something was definitely going on with him, but then he’d been a mess from the moment she’d met him.

  What he needed was some friends, male friends who he enjoyed spending time with. Golf or something equally appealing to men.

  *

  Cheyenne couldn’t help being a little annoyed having to leave Samara’s house early to return to Roan. It felt immature, like she had to comply with a curfew. But men needed to be pampered and managed—they all did.

  Roan was dressed in some kind of sports jersey and shorts by the time she returned. In truth, she couldn’t really find him sexy dressed like that. It was the total absence of taste.

  “Interesting attire,” she said as she placed her purse on a table. The bar of the hotel had been commandeered to serve as a living room. It really wasn’t doing them good living in this hotel. “What movie did you pick?”

  “It’s actually a TV series.”

  “A series?” Cheyenne said with disappointment, picturing hours of inane staring at the TV.

  “Thought we could binge watch. We got snacks and stuff neither of us should eat.”

  Cheyenne checked her watch and silently groaned. “Alright maybe just a couple for me. I have tennis tomorrow and I can’t miss it.”

  As he grabbed the remote to line up the first episode, Cheyenne looked over the spread he had gathered. No way in hell was she eating any of that. Seriously, had he lost his mind? “I might get some sushi,” Cheyenne said.

  “Sushi is definitely not binge watching worthy.”

  What the hell was he doing here? Why were they doing something so stupid as sit here and watch droning TV? What point was he trying to make? This was not the lives either of them led.

  Cheyenne sighed as Roan placed his arm around her. Whatever, she thought. It wasn’t the worst thing she’d had to do for a man. They all had their quirks that needed sprucing, fluffing or fucking. The male ego was a fragile thing, and for some reason, Roan was pushing this awkwardness on them.

  Chapter 40

  Dominic couldn’t bring himself to rush into proceeding with the plans he had in place for some theoretical time when Cheryl gave up her tenancy lease. The empty salon sat like an eyesore, but he still couldn’t bring himself to deal with it.

  For a while, he’d wondered if it would be good to put in a nice café there. They could probably use something a little upmarket, but his idea never went any further. It wasn’t as if he was in the café business.

  It could be something for Cheryl, though. If she could run a salon, she could run a café. A reputation wouldn’t be the same in a café, surely.

  He couldn’t get Cheryl’s appearance out of his mind when she’d turned up to give over her keys. Seeing her like that showed that she was a lot younger than he’d thought. Her skin had been fresh and clean, her hair completely natural. In fact, she’d looked like a completely different person. Was that what she looked like when she was at home?

  In jeans and a simple blouse, she looked little older than a teenager, and he felt a little like a paedophile considering how sexy he’d thought she’d looked. Particularly as she had looked little older than his own daughter. Obviously, she was. Married and divorced with two kids.

  There was another emotion that conflicted deeper inside him. Something had come and stolen her out of his life. He’d quietly enjoyed having her there. Not to pursue anything with her, but just having her there, down below in that salon. It had meant something, even if he couldn’t exactly say what. Now she was gone, out of sight, and getting ready to disappear for good.

  She’d been quite clear that she had to leave Marbella. If he had to guess, he suspected she didn’t want to, that she had quite liked it here.

  Someone had done this to her.

  Grabbing a scotch, he sat down at his desk at home and looked out the window. Perhaps it was a little arrogant to think how annoying he found the impact to him, when her life was being devastated. He had offered to help her, but she hadn’t accepted. It wasn’t a surprise. She didn’t like to be dependent on anyone. Accepting a gift was hard for her as she felt things didn’t have value unless she earned it. In that sense, she was so very different from the women he knew. Bianca felt completely entitled, and he had never argued that.

  “Hey, dad,” he heard Esme’s voice. He hadn’t seen her in a few days.

  “I didn’t know you were home. Not going out tonight?”

  “A bit later,” she said, milling in the doorway.

  “How are your studies?”

  “Good.” Actually, she had stuck with it longer than he’d expected. “I’ve decided to start a skincare line and everything I am doing at the school is planning for that.”

  “I see,” he said.

  “I have to do a business plan, a financial plan, the supply chain and marketing.”

  “I heard you’d been in to see Stephen,” he said.

  “He reviewed it.”

  Dominic knew nothing about skincare or cosmetics, but he was pleased Esme was considering such a venture. She needed something to turn her mind to. “I understand Megan’s business is up and running.” Mrs. Flintwell had told him about her daughter’s activities at a party.

  “Yeah, it’s going really well. She’s apparently started manufacturing in Vietnam.” He could see the excitement in Esme’s eyes.

  “Well, I hope all goes well. And with your planning also. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I might need some seed capital,” she said, looking a little coy. It was usually not the look he got when people asked him for money and he chuckled.

  “I guess you will have to present your proposal.” Obviously, he would give her the money, but she would appreciate it more if she had to go through the normal hoops. It would also serve her well to know what the normal hoops were.

  “Cool,” she said and pushed off the doorway.

  “Esme,” he said as she turned to leave and she turned back around to face him. “You know that little salon that was by my office.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s closed down.”

  Esme looked blank.

  “Cheryl Water owns it. Although I heard that someone’s been spreading some nasty rumours about it.” He had brought it up with Bianca that morning and she had been completely uninterested. “Any chance you’ve heard them?”

  “No, but I can probably find out.”

  “I’d like to know where they started.”

  “No problem. There isn’t much in this town I can’t find out about.” That was probably true. Esme seemed to know everything that went on in this town.

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  Dominic watched her leave, glad his relationship with his daughter seemed to have settled from the messy period last year when she’d been going off the rails. If she wanted to focus her time on a small business, he was all for it. Beat the drunken wastes some of the kids in this town turned into.


  He turned his gaze back to the sea view out his office windows. There was something niggling at him about this rumour business. Why in the world would someone want to hurt Cheryl? It sounded very deliberate. Cheryl messed with no one. She got on with her business and stuck to that. From everything he’d heard, she hadn’t even gone on a date. Then again, that slick boy movie star had shown some interest in her. Maybe this was Cheyenne’s doing. She was crazy and careless enough to lash out at some innocent pedestrian just because her boyfriend spoke to her at a party. It would be unfair if that was true, Cheryl’s entire life being wiped out because someone spoke to her at a party. Dominic’s sense of justice was prickled.

  Chapter 41

  “No, you can’t just hide in your room, Inns. It isn’t healthy. Good food, good wine, good company. That’s what life is about,” Esme stated over the phone.

  “And sex.”

  “Yes, fine. Feed me first and I’ll make it worth your while. And it’s your cousin, so it’s not like you’re hanging out with strangers.”

  The hesitation was evident in Inns’ voice. He really didn’t want to, but it wouldn’t serve him well to become a complete hermit either.

  “I’ve already told Aggie you’re coming, so I will be expecting you to come out of that car with her. And I don’t want you driving. I want you nice and drunk at the end of the night. I can’t believe I am having to encourage someone to get drunk. You need to get drunk, Inns. You’re too caught up in yourself.”

  “Are you saying I’m up myself?”

  “More than anyone I know. I’ll see you then. No excuses,” Esme said and hung up. She would drag him kicking and screaming into a social life if she had to. He really was too isolated. Alright, so maybe she wanted to share a bit more with him than the things they did in the bedroom. They weren’t like going out or anything, but they were a bit more than fuck buddies. They were… general companions. That sounded like a nice compromise between totally into each other and fuck buddies. There is a link, a closeness, but we’re not planning our futures together.