REED
Present day – twenty-five years old
My stomach growls, waking me. Looking around, I try to figure out where I am. When I close my eyes, it reluctantly comes flooding back to me. Sitting up, I run my hands over my face. I’m in our private jet on my way home.
Home. Is it even that anymore? Four years doesn’t sound that long. Yet with what I’ve been through, it seems like forever. The shock of Jax’s phone call has gradually worn off. I’m grieving for so many things. My grandfather dying is the tip of the iceberg.
With a sigh, I glance around and note this is one of our newer planes, the luxury abundant, almost reeking excess. Leaning forward, I reach for my phone. The leather chair glides with me, so soft it’s like a downy bed. Dark wooden tables sport vases with red roses. I guess they go with the bright red carpet. I notice the couch is white with red throw pillows. My mind drifts back to the last time I flew commercial, then shuts down. That’s a wound that never needs to be reopened. A low commotion brings my eyes to the large flat screen. Hockey is on and a player has been shoved into the boards. The fans seem to have taken offense, hence the commotion. The player gets up and spits blood on the ice. Even with the volume low, I can sense the anger and excitement coming from the arena. I’ve become immune to that life—a life where you go and drink beer and cheer for a team. A life that has meaning, even if it’s only to be a fan. Somewhere I lost that. My grandfather dying is the first real emotion I’ve had in a while. I want to thank him for that and so much more. Pain rushes over me like waves in the ocean. For one split second, I was distracted enough not to remember. I pride myself on control, which means regret isn’t part of my vocabulary. But today, I allow myself to feel something even if it’s a simple longing for a game. Sadness that my hero is gone. But not regret. He wouldn’t allow it, nor will I.
“Good morning.” The flight attendant smiles. She’s petite and pretty in a nerdy girl way. Black-rimmed glasses sit on her face and small purple lips smile at me.
“Mr. Saddington, can I get you something to drink?” Her tight white silk shirt is ironed and tucked into a black pencil skirt. Dishwater-blond hair is twisted up in a bun.
“Yes, coffee black, please.”
“Of course.” She turns and I watch the blatant swing of her ass.
“How much longer until we land?” I say, stopping her before she goes into the kitchen area.
“About two more hours. I hope you brought a jacket. It’s supposed to be raining.” She smiles, causing me to notice a gap between her front teeth. I nod.
Rain. That’s something I’m used to. As I glance out the window, the morning sun peeks through. The moment I land, I need to make sure Michael, my second in command in London, is apprised of the situation. Somehow this trip seems final.
“Sir, your coffee.” The woman sets it on the table along with some pineapple and mango.
“I’m sorry for your loss. If you need anything at all, I’m here for you.” She looks down at my cock, her hand casually brushing my leg. Her attempt to be professional when sending me signals to fuck her is rather humorous.
Unfortunately, I can still smell Victoria’s flowery perfume on me. Poor Victoria. Her disappointed face and desperate need to please make her somewhat pathetic. She should count herself lucky if she never sees me again. I hope I was clear that we are over. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, but I can barely remember.
I smile at the woman. “Thanks. I won’t be needing anything but breakfast.” She looks disappointed.
“And would you like that now?”
I arch an eyebrow at her. Any other time, her aggressive nature would spark at least enough interest to bend her over the table and take her from behind.
Taking a sip of the dark coffee, I swivel the chair around facing her.
“Do you have any hot dogs?” Her look of shock almost rivals mine. The recurring dream I’ve been having lately hits me in the gut. Shit, that’s what woke me up. I was dreaming about eating hot dogs in the rain…
Bringing the coffee to my mouth, I drink deeply, allowing the hot, bitter liquid to slide down my throat. It gives me a moment to compose my thoughts. My hands start to sweat. Since moving to London, I’ve been having this dream. It started one night after I worked for hours. I was tired and cold when I got back to my flat and fell into a restless sleep. I woke in terror, my screams echoing off my empty walls. It soon became recurrent. Sometimes they are good. Most of the time I wake up with my heart racing, my fingers clutched around my scarred-up chest, her scent embedded in my brain. She’s always laughing, kissing me. Then she’s gone, and I can’t find her. I search and search. Usually my brain makes me wake up there. Other times the nightmare goes on until I collapse at different places, crawling in the rain looking for her, the taste of her lips burned into my memory.
I have trained my mind not to think about her. But she haunts me in my dreams and elsewhere.
“Sir?” The flight attendant clears her voice. My eyes snap over to hers.
“We do. In the freezer. Would you like me to heat one up?” Blinking at her, I stand and try to calm my racing heart.
“Yes. Give me twenty minutes. I’m going to take a shower first. I don’t suppose you have chili?”
She cocks her head confused. “No, we have eggs benedict and asparagus with multigrain toast.”
“Hmm. Yes, that’s one of my favorites. Bring me two hot dogs with mustard and ketchup.” I walk away with my cup of coffee.
“My name is Willow,” she calls after me and I turn briefly, “in case you change your mind and need me.” She licks her lips.
I don’t bother responding and keep moving toward the shower. My earlier rejection should have been enough. Shutting the door, I peel off my suit jacket, the need to remove all traces of Victoria and London suddenly strong. My hands move frantically as they jerk off my clothes. I’m not quite certain what I think this shower is going to solve. Will it wash away my shame of my torn relationship with my brother? My endless lack of consideration for my parents’ feelings? My sadness and pain at my grandfather dying? It won’t. It never has, but I get in anyway.
TESS
Past – eighteen years old
New York, NY
“Pretty Girl, we need to talk about this.” Brance sits in my fully decorated and kickass kitchen.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I frown. “You know I need you.”
He stares at me, forcing me to smile at my antics. “I waited for you to get your life back together with Reed. You two are basically married. You’ve been going strong for four months. I need to make the move for myself. I’m done with New York.” He reaches for a couple of the grapes in a bowl sitting in the middle of my island.
“I want to visit my family in Colombia. Have a heart-to-heart with my father. Hope he doesn’t disown me.” He checks his watch as I hand him an omelet that I learned how to make watching the Food Network channel.
“Wow!” He turns the plate. “Can I be seeing things? Did you make me something to eat?” He waves his hand up from the plate to his nose. “It smells like real food.”
“Knock it off. I have decided to learn to cook.” Using a sponge to clean the counter, I continue. “I mean, look at my kitchen. It would be a shame not to use it.”
Sometimes I want to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. It took Brance and me a month of furniture shopping and the efforts of a team of painters we hired, but we turned it into a masterpiece. To be honest, we could have been done earlier, but Brance discovered this place that installs old railroad ties as floors. Outrageously expensive but so worth it. Then he decided to have a brick wall installed, so that took time. But the finished product speaks for itself. Yellow and French blue were our main colors, adding a warmth that most places lack. Secretly I think it looks better than Caroline’s, and that’s saying something.
Rinsing my hand under the water, I ask, “Don’t you think a phone call would work equally as well? Isn’
t it dangerous for you to go to Colombia?”
“No doubt, but I’m long overdue to see my family. My middle brother is recovering from a gunshot wound. I told you he almost died, right?”
“Yes.” I chew my bottom lip. “That’s what I’m talking about. I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.”
He smiles, showing off his pretty white teeth. “My dad will take care of security. Believe me, he will have me so heavily guarded, I will be fine.”
“I guess.” I glance down at my nails.
“Also, it’s only fair to tell my father in person that I’m still gay and moving to West Hollywood.” Brance sprinkles some salt on the omelet from my cute little rooster salt caddy.
“I hate it. What am I going to do without you?”
“You have Reed, Pretty Girl. And school and obviously cooking.” He holds up a forkful. “I’m not lying. This is delicious.”
Smiling, I grin. I love to cook. “I made lasagna last night for Reed. He said it was so good I could open my own restaurant.”
Brance’s lips twitch. “Of course he did. Well, he would know.”
“I’m being serious. Reed loves when I cook for him.”
“Reed loves anything you do. Which is why I can safely leave you in his hands.”
I stare at Brance, my mind scrambling to find a way to make him stay. He has been my one constant for the last three years. Sighing, I’ve known from the beginning that he was going to eventually move to California.
“I’m being selfish and spoiled. I want you to be happy. I guess this means as soon as we graduate, we’ll move to Los Angeles. I hate New York anyway,” I say, popping a grape into my mouth.
“Says the girl who won’t leave it.” His snarky voice makes me stick out my tongue.
“You know I have a love-hate thing with New York. I guess it symbolizes security because of Reed.”
“Whatever.” He takes another bite. “Holy God, Tess Rose Gallagher, this is fantastic. I’m extremely impressed.”
I smirk. “I told you I was getting domestic.”
“You weren’t kidding. Next thing, you’ll be barefoot and pregnant.”
I glare at him. “What?”
He arches an eyebrow at me. “It was a joke. God, you’re sensitive today.”
“I wonder why that is. Hmm, could it be because my best friend is being a jerk?” When I glance out the window, gray skies stare back at me. “You know I don’t find the baby thing funny. I don’t even like you joking about it!”
“Lighten up, Tess. Reed cares about two things: you and him. If you don’t want kids, believe me, the man will be more than happy not to share you,” he says in between bites.
“You think so?” My voice betrays my insecurities.
Brance stares at me like I’m insane. “Are you eating or not?”
“I can’t eat.” I reach for some grapes. “Do you want me to fit into that gown you have me wearing tonight?”
He appraises me up and down again. “You’re right. Coffee and fruit for you.”
“So…” Taking a breath, I try to prepare him. “I need you to rethink your negative vibes about Reed’s grandfather’s party tonight. Lana is going to need you.” I’m trying my best to guilt him.
He snorts, forking in the last of the omelet and pushing back the plate. “There is nothing negative about me not going to that party tonight. It’s positive all around.”
“No, it’s not.” The thought of my mom and my dad being at the same place nearly makes my chest break out in a rash.
“Please… I need you! So does Lana. She is going to be humiliated. And I can’t be in two places at once.” Sliding close to him, I clutch tightly to his shirt.
“Tess? Let go of my shirt. I’m not Reed, so stop whining.” He cups my face. “I’m trying to get away from the one percenters. The Saddingtons are old money. It goes against everything I’m striving not to become. I mean, come on, wasn’t Reed’s great-great-great-grandfather a duke or something?”
“Fine.” I pull away from him, grabbing my rubber band from my wrist to tie up my hair. “Just let me have to handle everything.” Dramatically, I wave my hands. “You know my mom is going to go insane when my dad walks in with Lana. It’s going to be a complete slap in the face for her. Not that I’m her biggest fan, but even I have to say it’s humiliating.” I open the refrigerator for a bottle of water.
“This is not our problem. Lana needs to tell Robert to fuck off. I told her that too.” Taking the bottle from me to open it, he looks at his watch again. I almost kick him.
“Stop looking at your watch. We have plenty of time before we have to meet her.”
Brance sits back down. “The truth is they are going to eat her up. I have no desire to see a bunch of entitled fat fucks humiliate her or your mother.”
“Exactly, Brance.” I slap the counter. “That’s what they’re going to do to her. My dad is being a dick all around. I know he wants my mom to sign the divorce papers. But bringing his mistress to this party? This could be awful.”
He’s silent, then looks at the ceiling, closing his eyes.
“Goddamn it, Tess.” He shakes his head and throws his hands up. “Fine, I’ll go! For you and Lana. It’s going to be a shitstorm.”
Squealing, I throw myself into his arms, kissing his face.
“Now what’s happening?” Reed startles us with an amused glare. He’s back from working out in the custom gym he had built downstairs. My eyes greedily sweep over his sweaty, shirtless body, his gym shorts low on his hips, his six-pack pumped after two hours of punching the bag. He walks up behind and pulls me tightly to his chest.
“Reed, you’re all sweaty,” I say, twisting around.
“You like me sweaty. I was hoping we would be alone.” He arches a dark eyebrow at Brance, starting to pull the tape off his hands, keeping me locked in his hot embrace.
“Sorry, Pumpkin.” Brance smiles. “Tess has somehow manipulated me into going to your grandfather’s birthday party tonight.”
Reed looks at me, then back at Brance. He nods approvingly. “Actually, you probably should come.” He roughly throws the tape away, not saying anything else.
Brance rubs his temples. “Fine, but both of you owe me. Please put a shirt on your chest—it’s distracting me,” he snips.
Reed laughs. “I’ll do better than that. I will remove myself from your view. I need Tess for a moment.”
Brance’s eyes get big. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you’re going to have sex with Tess? Classy, Reed,” he says dryly.
“He doesn’t mean that,” I yell because Reed is literally dragging me upstairs to our bedroom.
“No, Brance, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“We have hair and makeup appointments,” Brance hollers up at us.
“Reed, have you gone insane?”
“It’s only Brance, Kitten. I’ve been hard all morning waiting patiently.” His voice husky, he puts my hand on his erection.
“See… I need you.” He shuts our bathroom door and instantly pulls down his basketball shorts. His beautiful thick cock stands at attention.
“Reed, I have to go to the salon, get my hair done, then makeup and nails. I don’t have time for this.” It’s impossible to keep my eyes on his face because I’m sorry, his dick is spectacular.
“My cock is going to be in your pussy in exactly one minute.” He reaches down and starts pumping himself. Watching, I love when he masturbates in front of me. He knows it too. Despite my protests, my traitorous body is getting excited.
“If you like that cute little dress, I’d take it off.” Reaching down, he pulls me forward, claiming my lips. Before I can explain that I don’t have time, I moan and our tongues suck and bruise each other’s lips. And like that, all my scheduling and Brance seem to fade away.
It’s only Reed and me. My desire for him takes over like a drug because I have become a junkie. He growls in my mouth. “Tess, clothes.”
Quic
kly, I pull my dress over my head, tossing it onto our antique couch. Reed is waiting with the shower door open. His strong hands wrap around my arm, and he pushes me against the tile wall. His turquoise eyes search my face as the water sprays us from different angles.
“Don’t worry, Kitten. I’m going to fuck you hard and fast.” His full lips latch on to my neck.
I moan loudly; it echoes off the walls.
“Yeah, that’s it.” Two strong fingers enter me, reaching to rub my magical spot. “Fuck, Reed…” Throwing my head back, I feel myself thrust against him and my body is already pulsing.
“Come, baby.” Gasping, I feel him bite down on my neck, his fingers stroking hard and fast. My pussy quivers with bliss then gushes with pulse after pulse of exquisite pleasure. Thankfully he is holding me because his lips are all over my face praising me for coming so hard.
“Fuck, you drive me crazy.” His head drops to my breast and he sucks my nipple hard. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to be rough. Not being able to help it, I moan my pleasure loudly.
Reed lifts his head and gazes at me, his eyes hot with desire. “I need to be inside you, Tess,” he demands, somewhat frantic. I run my hands through his wet hair.
“I need that too,” I groan as something close to liquid fire pulses in my veins. Reed lifts me up easily. I wrap my legs around his waist as he thrusts into me hard.
“Oh my God, Reed, I love you, love this…” My back is against the tile and he fucks hard and fast, his strong hands holding me as his thick cock plows into me over and over.
“Christ, Kitten.” Our bodies are so in tune. At some point, I realize we’re loud and frantic. My nails claw his back as he praises my pussy. My head is in his neck and I can’t help but suck it.
“Reed,” I whimper getting ready to come, my pussy vibrating with need. As I grab ahold of his shoulders and neck, he thrusts higher. I scream his name as he continues to impale me deep and hard.
“Reed… I can’t.” Still pulsing and clenching him like a vise, I grab his forearms and he throws back his head, his beautiful body jerking as his warm seed fills me. Slowly, I come back to earth hearing our harsh breathing and the water.
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