Swan (A Sexy, Fairytale Short)

by Aria Cole

  Chrissy shook her head. “Your poor mom. I don’t know how she made it through with you.”

  “Maybe you should ask her for advice. I’ve got a feeling we’re going to be in plenty of trouble in another ten years with these two.” I fastened the diaper and snapped the onesie between his squirming legs.

  “I don’t even want to think about it.” She laughed then set Collin on the floor.

  He picked up and gnawed on a rubber ducky.

  “Well, with any luck, they’ll be little football players. What do you think, Cam—tight end?” I lifted my boy into the air and gave him a tickle. His righteous laugh was like music to my ears.

  “Two football stars?” She wrapped an arm around my waist. “Looks like I’ll be spending even more time at the field.” She placed a kiss at the crook of my neck and sent a shiver of glee racing through me.

  I couldn’t wait for Grandma to get here to take the little guys. They were cute, but I needed time with my woman. Raising six-month-olds didn’t leave a lot of couple time, though thankfully Grandma took them at every opportunity.

  A knock sounded at the door, and I heard my mother’s thick accent calling through the house. “Where’re my boys? Come to Grandma!”

  She turned the corner, and Collin’s face lit up in a cheeky grin.

  Without even acknowledging Chrissy or me, Momma bent to the floor and cooed to her grandson. “Can you crawl to Grandma? Let me see.” She held her hands out, and my son’s eyebrows went up.

  “It’s a little early for that, Momma,” I said, cradling Cam.

  “Nonsense. You teach them early, they go far.” She grinned then stood, holding out her arms to reach for my other boy.

  I passed him over, my heart full with an outpouring of love from seeing her so happy with my sons.

  Chrissy, the boys, my family, they were my entire world.

  “Now let’s skedaddle.” Momma bent and lifted my other son in her generous embrace, holding them securely on each hip. “We’ve got a lot to do at Grandma’s house, and maybe your momma and daddy can work on getting you some sisters, yeah?” She winked at me.

  Chrissy burst into a fit of laughter.

  “He’s going to have to get a few more diapers under his belt before I sign up for another one.”

  “We’ll have to see about that.” I pulled her against my body, not caring that my mom was there to witness our embrace. I wanted our boys to grow up around love, to know what love looked like so they never doubted when it finally found them. Time was short and every day counted—that’s what Chrissy had taught me.

  “See, just wait, boys. Nine months, you have a little sister. Listen to Grandma, she knows these things,” she whispered.

  Some days it felt like us against them with all her conspiring to bring more babies into the family.

  I loved every second of it.

  ***

  Chrissy

  Trent and I walked home later after a quiet dinner and a too-long movie. I’d been waiting all day for this moment when we could finally be alone. No chubby-cheeked babies to feed, no Grandma to encourage more baby-making, no waiters to interrupt.

  Just him and me.

  He held my hand tightly as we made our way up the porch steps, then he unlocked the door before turning to me. He rested his forehead against mine and stole all the breath from my lungs with his sweetness. “I want to kiss you right here.”

  “You don’t have to ask me anymore. I committed to your kisses a very long time ago,” I teased then pressed my lips to his in a slow kiss.

  His hands traced across my back and fell below my waist.

  “I’ll always ask.” He nipped at my bottom lip. “Just like I’ll always ask if you’re wet for me.” He slid a hand down my pants and rubbed my cotton-covered pussy.

  “I’m always wet for you.” I sighed against him.

  “Mmm, always ready and waiting for my dick?” His voice lowered an octave as his fingers spun feverishly. “I love that. I love that you need me to make this pretty pussy sing.”

  His words urged my lust on, so I pushed my hands through his hair and kissed him with every fiber of my soul.

  “I need to be inside you,” he whispered. His lips brushed against my ear and sent a wild shiver of desire coursing through me.

  “I’ve been waiting all day,” I moaned.

  Trent hoisted me into his arms and pushed us through the door. We were all hands and lips, tangled together as he stopped in the kitchen, our feet unable to carry us a step farther. He spun me in his arms and pressed me against the fridge. His hips rocked against mine, his rock-hard dick pressing between my legs and driving me to decadent distraction.

  “That’s a girl. Purr for me.” His hand pulled at the zipper of his jeans before he was fisting his long, rigid flesh and stroking.

  My heart leapt as I dropped to my knees and peered up at him through hooded eyelashes.

  “I’m always desperate for your dick.”

  I licked at the tip, a drop of pre-cum swirling against my tongue. I wanted him, all of him, every time.

  Trent’s hands fisted in my hair, holding my head gently as his hips rocked slowly. I groaned, sinking onto his impressive erection before hollowing my cheeks and sucking until I felt him hit the back of my throat. I did it again, his quiet pants and guttural groans the only reward I needed.

  “Jesus, Chrissy. It gets better every time. You feel better, you taste better, you love me more.” He pulled me up off the floor. “I don’t like you on your knees.” He placed a gentle kiss on my lips before lifting me onto the counter. “I like seeing your lush body when I’m inside it.”

  He pulled the dress over my head and discarded it on the floor before he moved aside the elastic of my panties and lined up his dick with my entrance.

  He pushed the smooth flesh through my soaked lips and sent my mind into a whole new stratosphere of pleasure. I tilted my head back against the cupboards, his palms caressing and molding my flesh before I felt the slow stretch of his dick melding with my body.

  “Trent,” I sighed, locking my ankles behind his back, desperate to feel him deeper.

  “That’s it, sweetheart, that’s what I like to hear.” He fucked me slowly, in long, measured strokes that built my orgasm incrementally. “You and me every day until forever.”

  Trent’s tongue searched out mine, and he took me in a powerful kiss. Better than sex, the emotion that crescendoed between us as we came together always overwhelmed me.

  I was happy to show him how much I loved him every single day, in every way, just as he showed me. When I’d found him again, I’d found every beautiful part of life the world had to offer.

  I’d found every beautiful part of myself I hadn’t known existed.

  I’d found a lifetime of love and happiness with the beautiful boy next door.

  THE END.

  (Turn the page to read the first chapter of White!)

  WHITE

  (Available June 5)

  by

  Aria Cole

  one

  I shuddered, pulling the blanket around my shoulders, feeling my knees quake in the impossibly high heels that felt awkward and numbed my feet.

  “I’m so sorry, Evie.” My foster brother and the oldest of the boys, Julian, wrapped his hand around my neck and squeezed—a comforting gesture he’d been doing since I was six and him seven.

  “It’s all right. I knew it was coming.” I wiped at a stubborn tear and pushed my hands down the minuscule piece of sequined fabric that tickled the tops of my thighs. I hated this getup. Hated that I was being forced to do this. Hated my life.

  I grew up in a world few could fathom and none should ever have to. It was dark, cold, ruthless. It was sex, drugs, and violence in all its extremes. I was raised in a foster family with three boys, also misplaced, and without them, I couldn’t stand tall for today.

  For tonight.

  For the moment I would be sold to the highest bidder.

  “You’ve
got this, Eve.” Mason tugged at my hair and then popped a kiss on the apple of my cheek before he fell onto the couch and picked up a game controller, his eyes immediately focused on the screen. He was the youngest, and helplessly addicted to the escape he’d found in online gaming just like every other teenage boy, but when other boys were sleeping, Mason was working, head down and hood up, trying to sell his stash before the dawn. None of us had been blessed with a silver spoon; we all had our burdens.

  I shook my head. I loved these boys, and the worst part about tonight would be leaving them. Saying goodbye when all I really wanted to do was cuddle up in pajamas and watch another action movie like we’d done on so many other occasions.

  But instead, tonight I would be sold by my foster mother. The woman who had been collecting a measly income for the majority of my childhood years to take care of me. It went to fueling her drinking habit and paying for the occasional young man to warm her bed. I knew she hated me. She hated how these men would look at me with lust in their eyes. But from the outside, we were the picture-perfect, home-schooled foster family.

  From the moment I was placed in this house, Momma Judy, as she preferred to be called despite the fact that she was certainly no relation of mine, had always been into shady business, drug dealers and petty criminals with rotten teeth and the stench of cigarettes on their breath always stopping by. We’d never been sheltered from the darker side of their business, and the boys were sent out to make money under the table doing whatever was required to meet their weekly quota. Yes, a quota. Instead of being given an allowance like most kids, the boys were given a weekly quota—an amount of money they had to contribute, by any means necessary, to keep the family accounts balanced. Essentially, Momma Judy required them to pay their way while she blew the stipend given to us as fostered dependents. We wore rags while she wore designer labels, we ate rations while she dined on steak and champagne.

  The boys mostly sold weed on the street, sometimes shrooms or pills on a good day. I’d fought and cried and begged Judy to not send them out that first night a few years ago. Collapsed on the floor and begged on their behalf for some shred of innocence or dignity, but she had only smiled at my desperate display before kicking them out of the house for the night. When they each returned the next morning, the light had gone out in all their eyes, and Julian had returned with a crimson and purple bruise across the side of one cheekbone and eye socket. He’d encroached on gang territory. Judy hadn’t cared, only said that lessons on the street don’t come easy. My heart cracked wide open for my boys, but we’d each had to slowly mend it in order to survive. We’d each become hardened in our own way, the boys losing hope quickly, but not me. I’d hardened my heart to Judy’s callous disregard for our innocence, but I still held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut tightly at night in fervent prayer for a miracle. I wholeheartedly believed that we were each put on this earth for something, and my thing was my boys. Us. Fighting for our lives and freedom was my sole purpose in life, the thing that drove me, even when reality more resembled a much darker side of hell than it did a childhood.

  So how did I become exempt from the harsh treatment and financial quotas the boys were expected to maintain? I, the innocent young daughter, was the cash cow. Soon after my fifteenth birthday, when my God-given curves and full lips began to develop, I was expected to sell my body to men. At first, only kinky pictures, then pre-recorded cam shows, and by my seventeenth birthday I was doing one-on-one Skype appointments with the highest bidder. The only thing that saved my dignity in those moments was that I was clothed. Completely clothed. Fitted tank tops and short shorts, yes, all suggestive to the men that paid top dollar for an hour of my uninterrupted time, but the funny thing was, I didn’t even have to talk to them.

  They just watched me. A shiver ran through me at the memory, and while the short dress and high heels made me uncomfortable and used, they also made me feel like a woman. With every cam show and photo session, I felt steel strengthening my backbone, my heart filling with more confidence and hope. I would beat them all at their own game. Just wait and see, I told myself.

  To Judy I may still be a pawn to be sold to the highest bidder, but that’s not how I saw myself. This was my coming out party, the moment I could finally do something to help us. We would soon finally be free.

  I had three boys to take care of. The price would be high, but as I inflated myself with the inner strength I’d been saving for this day, I would rescue us all. Each of our young lives depended on it.

  In the twelve years I’d been with Judy, she’d consistently tried to break my spirit. With the cash flowing in and regular appointments at the wax bar to keep me sweet and virginal looking, life was great for everyone in the house, except the four kids who had been forced to survive in that prison. But without those boys, I doubt I’d be alive to tell the tale.

  The four of us split two bedrooms. I came into the house after Grant, Mason, and Julian. Julian had his own room then, but being the gentleman he is, he forfeited his room instantly for me. From that day forward, I became their sister, mother, and companion, while they bunked in one small bedroom, arguing and laughing like boys do. I had a special relationship with each of them. We were a crew of kids who relied on each other. Like kids at an orphanage mistreated, we supported, connived, cried, and cheered.

  They would do anything for me, and I would for them.

  But lately…

  Lately I’d been sadder than usual. My recent eighteenth birthday should have been a cause for occasion, but instead I was to be sold exactly a week later. This would do two things: prevent me from finally escaping the terror I’d been fostered into, and turn me into someone’s property. I would be owned by someone. A man. A man I’d never met before, for whom I would cater to his every whim. Would he be mean? Abusive? Old? Married? I knew none of those things, but it didn’t matter. This would be temporary, even if I had to slip money out of his wallet a twenty-dollar bill at a time, I would save every cent until I could afford a place for all of us to live. Somewhere far, far away from Newark’s gritty underground.

  I could only hope this man would have some small shred of compassion. And if he didn’t, I would find the nearest crowbar and batter his skull with it before running for my life. It wasn’t a good plan, but it was still a plan. It made me feel better, hopeful.

  I’d had over a decade to come to terms with the reality of my life. But I knew I could get us out. I saw it coming.

  It had to be coming.

  “I wish you could come with me.” I finally composed myself and muttered to Julian, as he strummed on his guitar across the room. An old beat-up instrument that Julian clung to as if it was his saving grace. We often did this, congregated together in the room the boys shared. Julian ran a hand through his long threads, some falling over this thick lashes before he glanced up. “I’ll get you out of there, Evie. I promise. If it’s the last thing I do.” His hand clutched the neck of the guitar.

  “No, don’t do that.” I dropped to my knees at his feet. My hands gripped the frayed denim at his stonewashed knees when I saw the pain in his eyes.

  Julian and I had always been close. He was the oldest, been the first to be placed in this house. I would miss him the most, and I think this would be the hardest on him. He wasn’t ready for this separation any more than I was ready to be traded and sold like a whore.

  “I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret. I’ll get out. I’ve been waiting years for this moment.” I faked a smile, but my damp eyelids betrayed me.

  Julian only shook his head, hair falling in his eyes and shielding his watery gaze from me. I squeezed his knee, then stood, a painful ball rolling in my stomach at the thought of what the next twenty-four hours might hold.

  As much as they'd tried, they couldn’t protect me from all the horrors at home. The first night I failed to earn less than a grand doing “modeling” as she called it, Judy smacked me across the face and hollered she couldn’t wait till I turned ei
ghteen so she could dump me on some asshole.

  I’d shuddered then. It’d been her simple prophecy.

  Think you’re done when you’re eighteen, sweet Eve?

  Not likely.

  My brothers, my saviors. I am so thankful I’ll never have to know what I would have done without them in this ugly world.

  “I love you, boys.” I placed a kiss on Grant's forehead. All the tears had been shed in the days and weeks leading up to this. We were each empty, the pain in our hearts a permanent cross to bear. I hugged each of them tightly, knowing this wouldn't be the last time I saw them, but unsure of when the next time would be, and I walked out the door, to my fate. The next twenty-four hours would change everything.

  Look for WHITE on June 5!

  For more safe and sexy modern fairytales, look for White on June 5, and Scarlet in July.

  Follow Aria on Amazon for new release updates!

  BLACK

  (Available in KindleUnlimited now!)

  by

  ARIA COLE

  One

  Maxwell

  I gazed out the crystalline windows from a dark corner in the quaint library, taking in the vibrant green of the town common and the gently lapping waves of the aqua lake beyond. My eyes took in the silvered sparkle of sunlight highlighting each small crest before it kissed the shore and receded back again. My thoughts spun away with me as I watched, feeling anxious as I hid away in this tiny upstate town, watching the world from this tiny library window.

  I’d spent summers swimming in that lake, the two months of the year it was warm enough for swimming. I remembered the warmth caressing my skin and sending jolts of vitamin D energy running through my cells. Playing catch and running improvised bases in the town common as a boy. I remembered those days so fondly, but fear had strangled pleasure these last few years and chained me like a beast in the cellar.