Fool Me Twice

by Lilliana Anderson

  My eyes pricked with tears and my throat tightened. “Wh-what did you want?” I asked, breathing hard as his fingers danced over my skin, heading towards my apex. I shifted away, not wanting him to touch me while we were having this conversation.

  “To keep you. My desire for you is, after all, the reason we got into this mess.”

  “And you still desire me?” I already knew the answer to that. This thing between us was inexplicable. My brain said to hate him, but my body cried out with joy whenever he was near.

  “Very much.” His fingers brushed lightly against my outer lips. “All I can think about is being inside you.”

  My hands tightened on the basin in front of me and I gasped. “And she… she agreed to let you k-keep me?”

  “She thinks I should be punished for putting the family in danger. Getting rid of you would serve that purpose.” He pushed a thick finger inside me, his breathing kicking up a notch as he pressed his lips against my arse, just below the sticking plaster. I wanted to cry out in fear but also surrender to the ecstasy.

  “Oh God,” I gasped, overwhelmed by the opposite emotions. They swirled uncomfortably in my gut and made my body shake. “Don’t do this.”

  “I talked her out of it.” He moved his other hand to the front of my thighs, sliding up until his fingers found my clit and gently teased. “I reminded her that we were thieves, not murderers. We’ve come to an… arrangement of sorts.”

  “Arrangement?” I was shuddering over him, my mouth open as my need swelled and my objections melted away.

  “Mm-hmm.” He added an extra finger, working me until I was on the brink. “I get to keep you, but….” He paused as I came undone, my insides tightening around his hand as I pulsed against his fingertips, my hips rocking. “My God, duchess, I love watching you come.” I felt the heat of his breath against my bare cheeks. “You’re so responsive to my touch. So warm. So wet.” He stood and unzipped his pants, leaning me forwards as he positioned himself at my entrance. “My cock is aching to be inside you.”

  “What happens if you keep me?” I urged, my voice barely audible as I fought to remain standing and focused. It would be easy to get caught up in his dirty talk and let my worries fly further away with every orgasm he gave me. But it wasn’t just my possessions at stake this time—it was my entire existence. Still, my pussy pulsed in anticipation.

  “I have to marry you.” With that, he pushed inside, filling me so swiftly that my eyes bugged out.

  “What?” I gasped, freaked out by his words while his thick cock did magical things to my insides. “I don’t… I don’t want….” I could barely speak with him inside me. It felt too good and robbed me of my senses.

  “You don’t want to marry me?”

  I shook my head and he continued thrusting, his hand on my back, the other gripping my hip.

  I don’t want to have this conversation while you’re fucking me.

  “I’ll admit that I wasn’t too keen on the idea either,” he gasped. “Marriage wasn’t something I ever considered. But then”—he quickened his pace, thrusting deeper, harder—“I thought about having unlimited access to this.” He rammed his hips against me, grinding, sliding a hand under my shirt and cupping my breast, twisting my nipple until I cried out. “And I thought it might.” Thrust. “Just be.” Thrust. “Worth it.” He slammed into me, the strain evident in his last words as he came inside me, spilling his seed into my depths. “You feel so good, duchess. Even better when there’s nothing between us. So yeah, you get to be my wife. I get to fuck you whenever I want, and you can’t testify against me if I’m ever arrested. It protects us both.”

  He pulled out and flipped me so I was facing him, cupping his hand between my legs and catching his cum as it spilled out. “Looks like we both get what we want, huh? You get to live, and I get to watch you come for the rest of our natural lives. You excited?” He grinned and then pressed his mouth to mine, forcing a kiss.

  At first, I didn’t want to respond. I was shocked and angry, confused and raging. I’d given up on the idea of marriage when I hit my thirtieth birthday and had yet to have a serious boyfriend. Then suddenly, this guy comes along and tells me that I have to marry him or I die. It wasn’t exactly the romantic proposal I’d envisioned as a child. It wasn’t even the amicable agreement I’d thought might happen as I got older. This was plain-as-day caveman bullshit that gave me limited choice. Death or marriage, death or marriage… ummm, I suppose I’ll take marriage since I’m not too keen on the whole being dead part just yet.

  “Come on, duchess.” He sucked on my lower lip. “You can’t honestly tell me there isn’t at least some part of you excited about this. You and me, fucking and fighting, fighting and fucking. It’ll be beautiful.” The moment I opened my mouth to respond, his tongue stole my words like the thief he was. As he twisted my head to the angle he wanted and deepened the kiss, I lost my fight. Releasing a tiny moan and wrapping my arms around his neck, I surrendered, so horribly weak where this man was concerned. All he had to do was touch me and I was his. It made me sick in a way. In another way, it made me a very satisfied woman.

  “Wait. What happens if we get married and then you decide you don’t want me anymore?” The thought struck me the moment our locked lips parted.

  He leaned over and turned the tap on, washing his hand and collecting a fresh flannel. “If my dick is as good a judge of character as I think he is, we’re gonna be fine.” He pressed the clean flannel between my thighs and cleaned me up. “He likes you a hell of a lot. The rest, as my grandmother used to say, will come out in the wash.” He dropped the flannel back into the sink. “You know, another thought crossed my mind as I was fucking you. Those hips look like they can carry big children. I wouldn’t mind an heir.”

  What?

  “An heir? You just informed me that we’re getting married and now you want me pregnant with your kid so you can what, teach him or her to steal like you do?”

  “Every family has their particular skillset.”

  I ran my hands over my face and shook my head. “This is the craziest fucking proposal I’ve ever heard.”

  “Not a proposal, duchess, a certainty. This is your life now.”

  “No, my life is teaching and singing. It’s being a friend and a niece, not an accessory to crime and raising children destined to populate the prison system.”

  “Cartwrights don’t do time. We work smart and we stay safe.”

  “Then why do I have to marry you?”

  “So you can live. So I can keep an eye on you. So that on the off-chance I do ever get caught, you won’t be the person to put me there.”

  “I could still be an informant.”

  “Are you trying to blow holes in my argument? Do you want me to let Jasmine dispose of you and your friend?”

  I sealed my lips shut and shook my head.

  He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “That’s what I thought. Now get dressed. I put some clothes on the bed for you. We have an engagement to celebrate.”

  Never one to stay quiet for long, I opened my mouth to release the words that were bursting to get out.

  “What about Alesha? What’s happening to her?”

  He leaned against the doorway. “Same deal.”

  “This is bullshit. You fuck me like that’s the solution to all our problems, but you’re taking away my choices and are completely unapologetic about it. Now my best friend is caught up in it too. You caused this, Nate. You preyed on me. You took everything I owned. Now you’re taking the only thing I have left. You’re taking my freedom.”

  “You’re wrong, duchess. I’m giving you a life you never dreamed of. I’m saving you.”

  With that, he left the room, leaving me with nothing but a confused mind and my reflection staring back at me.

  Chapter Eleven

  There’s Always A Choice, Duchess

  With everyone around me acting like it was normal to celebrate a forced engagement with an impr
omptu Friday night BBQ, I was beginning to wonder if I’d somehow stepped into an alternate reality, like Alice falling through the looking glass. None of this could be real.

  Except it was. I’d pinched myself enough times to know that I was awake and present. Still, I struggled to believe it.

  In front of me, a squeal sounded. Alesha was in the pool frolicking with the twins and Sam. Kristian had just catapulted her through the air and she’d landed sideways with an almighty splash in front of Sam.

  “You OK?” he asked with a laugh when she surfaced looking like a drowned rat. She nodded and he collected her in his arms, then said something to her I couldn't hear as he pushed her hair back from her face. She smiled and nodded again, and then he hugged her against his big chest. It was a picture-perfect moment. And if it had happened at any place or time besides this, I would’ve smiled and hoped my best friend was going to fall in love. Instead, I sat and scowled, hating myself for bringing us here. I’d messed up, and the only way I could combat that feeling of inadequacy was by sucking down vodka mixers and hoping I’d pass out soon so my brain would quiet. I didn’t know what else to do. It seemed to me that I was stuck without much choice.

  Maybe Alesha had the right idea with her joyful acceptance of the situation. Her behaviour seemed crazy and asinine to me, but maybe it was her way of dealing. Maybe she was so frightened that she felt only complete submission would assure her survival. Although, from her position on top of Sam’s shoulders, she certainly didn’t look scared. I honestly didn't know what to think. I was better off drunk.

  Shifting my gaze across the yard, I could see Toby and Nate inside the house, deep in conversation with Jasmine. Nate’s back was to me, but Toby and Jasmine kept a careful watch over the rest of us, giving me an unpleasant feeling whenever I caught their eyes.

  Chewing the straw that had almost drained my fourth vodka mixer, I closed my eyes, feeling sick from the alcohol and lack of food—I’d refused to eat at dinner—but mostly from the worry seeping into my core. They wanted me to call my aunt and tell her I was going on a spontaneous vacation to the Cook Islands. I was to make up a story about being stressed and needing some time out. I didn’t know if I could pull it off. The last time I’d lied to her was in year ten at school when I told her I was sleeping over at a friend’s house, when in fact Alesha and I had snuck out to see a band. I never discovered how she figured it out, but she’d showed up at the venue, gotten them to stop the show and call us out of the audience. It was positively mortifying and meant that I never attempted to lie to her again.

  “Nathaniel tells me that you aren’t too keen on your impending nuptials,” Jasmine said, taking the seat beside me. She held out another vodka mixer, which I gladly took but didn’t thank her for.

  “Being told I’m to marry someone so I won’t be killed isn’t the romantic proposal I’d envisioned.”

  “We take what we can get, I suppose.”

  I regarded her with a frown. “I don’t know if you’re insulting me or insulting Nate.”

  She sat up a little straighter and inhaled a steady breath. “If I’m honest, this whole situation is a fuck-up. I don’t know what it is my son sees in you, but he’s jeopardised the safety of this family with whatever game you two have going on. That tells me his interest in you runs a little deeper than a simple fuck. And since he won’t let me do things my way, we have to get creative.” Placing her elbows on her knees, she leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. “But mark my words. You refuse to go ahead with this wedding, and I will end you. I’ve been in this business all my life, and you don’t get to where I am without getting your hands dirty. Right now, the only reason you’re still alive is because of Nate. I suggest you keep him happy. He wants you. He wants children. I want grandchildren. Make being a wife and mother your focus and we’ll get along just fine. But if you fuck up, if you refuse him or try to leave or talk to anyone about our business, I will end everyone you love. Then I’ll slit you from ear to ear and make you watch yourself bleed out in a mirror. And there won’t be a thing my son can do to save you.”

  I looked at her, my horrified heart beating wildly in my chest. She would slit me ear to ear? End everyone I love? Lord, save me. Who says stuff like that?

  She sat back and smiled, seemingly pleased with my reaction. “Glad we cleared that up,” she said, patting my thigh in a motherly way that was completely at odds with the monster she’d just shown me. “There’s plenty more of those in the bar fridge.” She pointed at my drink. “Feel free to help yourself.”

  I grabbed her arm to stop her leaving. “Can’t you at least let Alesha go? She won’t cause any trouble.”

  Still smiling, she glanced at her sons and Alesha in the pool. “She fits in well here. I think we’ll keep her. You know, I offered her Toby, but she wanted Sam. I like a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it.” There was real pride in her voice.

  “What about Sam? Doesn’t he want to find his own wife?”

  “Relationships are hard to sustain in our line of work. Best if he has a woman who already knows what she’s walking into. Look at him, he seems pleased enough.”

  “So your sons just do what you say?”

  “If they know what’s good for them, they do. Alesha will make a good wife and daughter-in-law. I can already see that. You, on the other hand.” Her eyes moved over me with disdain. “You’re a complication. And I don’t like complications, Holland. But fall in line and we won’t have a problem. The choice is yours.” Then she turned and walked away, leaving me alone with my self-pity and a bottle of alcohol.

  Tired, drunk and emotional, I made my excuses and was directed to a room upstairs where the twins had put my luggage when they returned from the storage unit. I had yet to speak to Nate, who’d retreated somewhere inside the house after his discussions with his mother and Toby. Doing what, I had no idea.

  Toby had come out though, and he’d spent the evening watching—well, glaring—at everyone. Particularly me. I got the impression that he shared Jasmine’s sentiment and would rather do me in than welcome me into the family. Perhaps that would be for the best. I couldn’t imagine anyone would be particularly happy in this situation. Except Alesha and Sam, of course. They were acting like they’d won Lotto.

  Perhaps this is all a dream.

  Sitting on the end of a king-sized bed, I closed my eyes and clicked my heels together three times. “There’s no place like home.” Click, click, click. “There’s no place like home.”

  Waiting for a breath, I cracked one eyelid open and allowed the room to come into view. I thought that if I willed it hard enough, I’d be sitting on the end of my own bed and not in a strange room in a strange house where I was prisoner. But alas, in front of my eyes was that cream fucking wall, grey carpet beneath my feet, a pale blue comforter beneath my arse. I was still in Torquay, also known as my new messed-up reality.

  I sighed and pressed the heel of my palms against my eyes. I will not cry. I will not cry.

  The door to the room opened and Nate stepped in, somehow moving quietly despite his bulk. I couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t need to stoop to enter. Custom-made door frames?

  “I thought you were avoiding me,” I said as he took a seat next to me and leaned forwards, his forearms on his thick thighs.

  “Just had shit to do. There’s a lot to organise.”

  “Guess you never thought you’d be planning a last-minute wedding in the Cook Islands when you met me that night.” I tried to smile, but my lips wobbled and tears filled my eyes. I looked up to the ceiling and sniffed to drain them before they could fall.

  “No.” He focused on his hands, thumb massaging the opposite palm. “But I reckon we could do worse for ourselves.”

  I released a burst of air from my nose. “I could’ve chosen a contract killer to bed, I suppose.” The moment the words left my mouth, I felt awful. “I’m sorry,” I backtracked. “I shouldn’t put you down like that. I just… I
don’t get it. How do you wake up every morning knowing that what you’re doing is illegal? Aren’t you afraid of getting caught? Don’t you feel guilty?”

  Taking a deep breath, he laid back on the bed, his arms stretched out and folded behind his head. “You make it sound like I’m a bad guy, duchess.”

  I twisted slightly, tucking my knee beneath me so I could face him. “Aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t feel bad. We’re not physically hurting people. Sure, they get a shock when they discover their shit is gone, but that’s what insurance is for.”

  “So you just explain everything away like that and your conscience is clear?”

  “Not clear. I know what we do is wrong, but at the same time I don’t really care. I’ve tried the straight and narrow before and honestly, it shits me. Working a nine-to-five while some other bastard gets rich off my back, that isn’t for me. I don’t want to live like that.”

  “So you live on the run instead?”

  “Who’s running?”

  “I just can’t wrap my head around it. Your mother raised you all to be a band of thieves. Who does that?”

  “A person who grew up in a ‘band a thieves’. This is the life she knew and it’s the life she taught us, the one we’ve all grown accustomed to. You’ll grow accustomed to it too. You’ll see.”

  “What if I don’t want to see? What if when we stand in front of the altar, I refuse to say ‘I do’?”

  His tongue slid out and wet the seam of his lips as he stared up at me, not speaking for a long moment. “Is the idea of a life with me really that terrible?”

  “It’s not about you, per se. It’s about having a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice, duchess.”

  “What, marry you or die? That’s no choice.”

  “There are worse choices.”

  I looked at him, confusion knitting my brow. How was he so calm about this? Surely he wasn’t actually happy about our impending nuptials. “You can’t honestly tell me that I’m the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with. Marriage is supposed to be between two people who love each other, Nate. The only things I know about you are that you have a big dick and you rob people to make living. That’s not a firm basis for a relationship. And what do you know about me? I stretch enough to fit your big dick, and I figured out where you stash your loot and hide out.”