by L. J. Wilson
“Hey, I wasn’t ready to go…”
“Yeah, but I was ready to come,” he said. “You’ll have to show me the ‘best-of’ version, since I won’t be seeing the whole movie.” The last bit of clothing was dismissed, Aaron stripping Ruby’s panties off her. “Tell me what else,” he said, pushing her legs apart. “Tell me how we said our vows and what the dress looked like. Tell me everything,” he said, cupping her soft mound before thrusting one finger… then two deep inside her. His thumb barely stroked an anxious clit.
Ruby gasped and kissed him hard, coming without warning, without Aaron doing much more than living out her fantasy with perfect words and the overture of actions. She let herself fall into a velvet ecstasy, a place where nothing mattered but the two of them. She barely caught her breath, but Ruby needed to keep talking. She needed to keep the fragile moment alive. “You, um… When you said all those words at the altar, it was like we were the only people there—like that first night on the beach. That part was so perfect. The rest of the wedding, it was the way people tell you. Kind of a blur.”
“A blur, huh? I’m pretty sure I committed it to memory.”
“Either way. There are beautiful pictures,” she said, running her hands over his chest, the two tattoos on his leg, and his hard cock. “We wanted it to be over, just so we could be alone, or to get on with our lives. I don’t remember which,” Ruby said, never able to decide which thing she’d wanted more. Wishful thinking, or hoping for too much, it had always seemed dangerous, that cautious part of Ruby never taking the future for granted. As Aaron’s arms gathered her body close to his, Ruby appreciated the wisdom of her restraint.
“So tell me, afterward… when we were alone… did the rest go something like this?” Aaron took total control. Poised over Ruby, he thrust into her. But he refused to make this all about him, and his hand eased between them, into a soft warm place that ached endlessly for his touch. “Did you keep count on the honeymoon?”
“Keep count?” she said breathlessly.
“Yeah, how many times I made you come…” Aaron kissed her, and Ruby felt the sensation build as he moved inside her, harder, faster. “Since it was a honeymoon, I’m sure I had a goal in mind.”
She laughed. “I’m sure I lost count after twenty… maybe thirty.”
“Damn, you always did have high expectations.”
Subtle laughter took a serious turn. Urgent passionate kisses silenced the talk and the fantasy played out into a vivid, thunderous conclusion. It was a sensual fall from a vast precipice, Aaron reaching a climax that dragged Ruby right with him. She couldn’t hold him any tighter, and she knew it wouldn’t be for much longer. Even so, the kisses slowed to an unhurried pace—as if they had all the time in the world. Aaron’s lips shifted from her mouth to the swell of her breasts as he slowly worked his way back up. He took a slightly different path as if making sure not to miss an inch of skin.
Ruby knew this was it, the part where she needed to make the trade. The fantasy would have to give way to reality. She would do her damnedest to minimize the pain for both of them. Well, at least it was her most honest intention.
Aaron kissed her like he might have on their wedding day, deep and full of promise. Clearly, he wasn’t ready to let go. “Afterward,” he said, smiling his broken smile, “Afterward, I bet I told you how much I loved you—all twenty, thirty times.”
Ruby burrowed hard into his body. Her best intentions felt shattered as she watched her unlived life with Aaron break into a million little pieces.
“Christ, what is it about redheads? Tell me. I want to hear it. How much do you want me to fuck you, you hot little bitch—this second, right on this chaise?”
It was a wispy, unsure reply. “Yes, what… whatever you want. Whatever you like.”
Stefan’s hands gripped around her waist. It was fleshier than he liked, but what the hell. It was going to be a long evening. Preparing to thrust forward again—hard—he instead grabbed a fistful of long red hair. She winced, a noise that didn’t sound like naughty pleasure. “No, you’re not doing it right. If you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to beg. Am I clear? Do you get it?” He yanked on her hair again.
“Yes… yes. Do it…”
Stefan was unmotivated and a little bored. He stood and stared down at her round bottom, abruptly hauling his partner to her feet. Pulling her naked ass tight to his cock, he swept the red locks upward and kissed her neck. “But since you brought it up, what I like… See that bed over there?”
She nodded.
“I’d like to tie your hands to it, slide a satiny black blindfold over your eyes, smack your ass—maybe until it’s as red as your hair—then I’d give you what you want. Then I’d fuck you.”
A gasp shuddered out of her.
He sighed at the obvious trepidation. Stefan rolled his eyes, unsure if she was worth the effort. This was their third tryst and it showed even less promise than the first two. “Look, love, don’t put your pussy out there if you’re nothing but a cock tease.”
“I… I’m not a cock tease,” she insisted. “I… I’ve fucked plenty of guys.”
“You mean boys.” Stefan’s arms were around her, thinking how he might demonstrate the difference between fucking boys and fucking men. His fingers ran roughly over a Brazilian wax that was nearly non-existent. “Spread your legs,” he hissed. “Maybe you can learn something.”
She obliged.
His hands moved upward, toward her breasts. “Bend over… like that, against the chaise.”
Again, she followed the instruction like a timid first-timer.
Even so, it offered him picture-perfect access. He took his target with a serious lunge, ready to at least satisfy himself. A fresh tingle of excitement ran through him as he fingered two gold nipple rings. At least they’d been worth the investment. But the building scene was interrupted as the lock clicked and the door burst open. Chloe Pike screamed as Stefan nearly yanked off the body bling. His wide eyes and naked body met with Vanessa’s shocked expression. All color drained from Troy Clairmont as he looked on, a startling view of his girlfriend being fucked by his boss.
There was a fluster and flurry of movement, Chloe Pike band-aiding herself in a plush throw, Stefan diving back into his pants. “For Christ’s sake,” he said. “I… I thought you’d gone back to the city.”
“I thought you were getting married in an hour.” Vanessa didn’t move from the entryway.
Under Troy’s breath a “Fuck me…” could be heard.
“No, clearly not you, dear,” Vanessa said. “I couldn’t manage the suitcase. Troy offered to get it for me. It’s over there.” She pointed to a large piece of luggage on the far side of the room.
Chloe shuffled right as Troy passed by. Stefan took a step toward Vanessa. “I understand how this looks, Ness. But could… could we talk about it?”
“Why? Does she need a cheat sheet?” Vanessa looked past Stefan’s shoulder, one redhead staring at the other. “No problem. He likes to be in control, sweetie. He likes to dominate—for you to come first because it makes him feel like he’s giving you something you couldn’t give yourself on a whim. Admittedly, he’ll do a great job. You’ll enjoy it, if you like games, like being under his command. Of course, for as many times as he may fuck you…” Vanessa’s glance veered back to Stefan. “It won’t be nearly as intense as the way he just fucked me.” She turned her back on Stefan and exited the carriage house suite.
Aaron wandered down to the edge of Butterfield Lake. Not to the sandy earth where he and Ruby had made love so many times, not to the spot that was currently decked out as a wedding chapel, but a hundred yards to the east. It was grassy and out of control. He pitched a few stones, letting the ripple of water channel his anger. Extremes ran through Aaron’s head. The only options left were the ones that would turn him into the criminal he’d pretended to be. Aaron contemplated the scenarios, over and over—a damn good beating. That possibility had terrific appeal. At least it
would stop the wedding, Stefan with a broken arm… leg… jaw… collar bone…neck. Aaron focused on the sparkling water, then the sand beneath his shoes. Who was he kidding? Accident or otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He’d kill the son of a bitch without question. Game over—for everyone.
Aaron turned for the inn, making his way toward the rear entrance. He was honestly unsure where his footsteps would lead him, what he might do. He felt anger and frustration grow with each stride. Just as he was about to enter the building a woman’s voice echoed. Honor, Shauna, even Chloe Pike… His mind was too fucked for instant recognition.
“Aaron… can… Could I talk to you? It’s important,” she repeated. “I’ve changed my mind.” The entry was dark and an open palm thrust into his line of vision. In it was a tiny silver USB drive.
Knuckles rapped lightly on the open door of Stefan Gerard’s office. Seated behind his desk, Stefan looked up. Surprise fell over his face. Then he smiled and stood, buttoning his suit jacket. “Aaron. What brings you here?”
Aaron thought he’d have the wallop of emotion in check. He didn’t, making it hard to produce civilized sentences. He got it together. “I need to talk to you.”
Stefan glanced out the window, both men seeing a stream of guests headed toward the lakefront. He pointed. “It’s not really a convenient time. I’m getting married in…” He glanced at his watch. “In half an hour.” His smiled pushed wider. “Will you be attending?”
Aaron didn’t answer, but he did step farther into the office.
Stefan held up a hand. “If you don’t mind, leave the door open.”
“No,” Aaron said. “I don’t mind. I also wouldn’t mind beating the shit out of you, or putting a bullet through your head in front of all your guests.”
Stefan nodded. It was a small gesture of acknowledgement—his prey realized it was being hunted. “Ah, so this is our showdown? All right.” His hand moved toward the phone, Aaron guessing the press of one button would bring security charging—like he gave a fuck.
“No, this is where it ends. This is where you get your grimy hands off my family and off Ruby.”
“I highly doubt that. Unless you’ve come here to shoot me. Have you come here to shoot me, Aaron?” The phone was now in his hand.
“Do I look like I’m holding a gun?” Wearing jeans and a T-shirt, Aaron raised his arms. He even took a three-sixty turn, which showed off nothing but his clothing—the outline of his cell phone, which peeked out of his pants pocket.
Stefan snickered. “I suppose we’ve come full circle. No matter the circumstance, you never were a killer. I believe it’s what landed you in this unfortunate situation.”
A breath pulled in and out of Aaron.
“Please, enlighten me as to your plan?” Stefan said, sitting. “I take it you realize I have you from every angle. Vanish with my darling Ruby, and your family will suffer your debt. Cause a moment of disruption to my wedding, and… Well, let’s just say your parole officer is on the guest list.” Stefan glanced toward an office safe. “You’re also correct in what you’re thinking, Aaron. Inside my safe is a list of documented crimes you’ve committed while in my employ. But then and again, it’s so difficult to rehab the wayward.”
Aaron took another step closer, the desk meeting his body. “You know, I’ve never been much for guns. You probably assumed as much when I missed Dante Vasquez. But in prison, I did have to beat more than one con short of dead. Just now, I spent time down by the lake—reflecting. I was wondering how many pieces I could bust you into before your gorillas on guard arrived.”
“But you won’t. If that were your plan, you would have stormed this office. I’d already be in a bloody mess. So what is it, Aaron? Mercy? Have you come to beg forgiveness in the hope of keeping your sweet Ruby from becoming my wife?”
Aaron could feel the twitch to his lip, his hands—even the bad one—squeezing into formidable fists.
“It’s not going to happen. Not if you get on your fucking knees. She’ll marry me. She’ll belong to me. And that’s not all.” Stefan stood, his closed fists pressing into the desk’s glass top as he leaned toward Aaron. “I’m not a fool. She’ll be combative at first. In fact, I suspect separate bedrooms may be in order. But eventually, whether by choice… or not, Ruby will end up back in my bed. Maybe you should be the bigger man and take solace in that. She’ll have an exquisite life, buying whatever she likes, traveling. Of course, things may change when we have children. And I swear to you, Aaron—there will be children. Today, your life sentence begins. As long as the two of you are breathing, as long as it’s her deepest desire that you remain a free man, Ruby will be married to me.”
“All this because I fucked up your little drug-running operation?”
“Little drug-running operation?” For the first time Stefan’s voice rose. “Do you have any idea what you destroyed? Those routes, that smooth as silk flow of goods and cash, in and out of New York, it was worth billions. It was poised to become a global empire! After that night, after your colossal debacle, I had to actually work for this damn hotel chain.
“You should have followed through, Aaron. You shouldn’t have missed when you fired that bullet at Dante Vasquez. I mean, really, what was the point? The man’s half dead now, doesn’t even recognize his own daughter. You only would have sped up the inevitable.”
“I’ve never aspired to play God.” He narrowed his eyes. “But I did play a good part for a long time. Just so we’re clear, there was no miss that night. If I had wanted to hit Dante Vasquez right between the eyes, it would have happened. It went exactly to plan—my plan. I was a plant, Jerry. I wasn’t a Silas Brikk wannabe. I never worked for you. I worked undercover for the DEA,” he said, not elaborating on the point.
Stefan’s jaw slacked, the tide shifting subtly. “You were…”
“Working undercover. It was Jerry we were after. I was so close to nailing you, putting a face and a real name to everything. That close,” Aaron repeated, pinching his fingers together. “Or at least I was until you threatened Ruby’s life. I may have gone to prison, but I won. Your Nickel Springs operation was ruined, and with the spotlight on Dante Vasquez and this town, I knew he and Ruby were safe.”
The room was quiet, Stefan studying Aaron as if a completely different man had walked into his office. His head tipped, almost humbly. “My apologies. I take back my low opinion of your intellect—anyone who could infiltrate my business to that extent undetected… Well, if I didn’t have cause to seek revenge before, you’ve certainly given me fresh incentive.”
“I thought you might see it that way. So I brought some incentive of my own. You won’t be marrying Ruby today or any day. You won’t touch my family.”
“And why’s that?” Stefan said, his amusement evident.
Aaron reached into his pocket and tossed a USB drive onto Stefan’s desk. “Because of that.”
Stefan’s brow knotted, picking up the tiny silver stick.
“It’s one of several copies.”
“It being…” Stefan said, dragging a hand through the office air.
“I may not have nailed you for being the sack of shit drug dealer that you are, but the info on that drive—it will actually be more effective. It’s your entire financial history, every piece of miss-wired, ill-funded fraudulent expenditure that you engineered. Shit, Stefan, you were working hard to make up that billion, ripping off Windamere properties and avoiding millions in federal taxes. Any idea how long prison sentences run for that kind of fraud, tax evasion, and embezzlement? Especially,” Aaron said, pointing, “with that kind of hard evidence.”
“What…? Where did you…?”
“It was a gift from a friend. It was her insurance policy if she ever felt the need to fuck you over. Apparently, after this afternoon, she did.”
“Vanessa?”
Aaron nodded. “A woman scorned scenario, you should have taken it way more seriously.” At the doorway, he turned back. “That night, seve
n years ago, the move was mine. The next one is yours. Whose ass are you going save? My bet is it’s your own.”
Ideally, he wanted to warn her. But there was no time, no opportunity. A phone call to Ruby went to voicemail. As Aaron left Stefan’s office, he saw that security was covering stairways and elevators. He felt confident, but not certain as he made his way down to the edge of Butterfield Lake. Aaron didn’t take a seat among the guests, but stood off to the side, waiting… breathing. Music started. A moment later, Honor was at his side.
“Here you are,” she whispered. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”
He glanced down at her blonde head, her chin motioning across the rows of guests. Alec stood on the other side. “Is he here to tackle me if I do anything crazy?”
“Something like that,” she murmured. “Aaron, I don’t get it. Why are you putting yourself through this? Why are you here?”
Aaron’s broad shoulders shrugged. “I have faith,” he said, more to himself than her.
“I don’t understand. But I was also looking for you because of Troy. He won’t tell me what happened, but he’s very upset. Like throwing frying pans across my kitchen upset. What do you know about that?”
“What makes you think I know anything?”
