Entrance (Thornhill Trilogy Book 1)

by J. J. Sorel

  My phone pinged. “Probably Dad. We’d better go,” I said, getting my phone out of my bag. My heart jumped. The message was from Aidan: I’m already missing you. XXX Aidan.

  My face must have given it away because Tabitha asked, “Let me guess— Aidan?”

  I nodded. A wide smile stretched my face.

  “See? Told you he’s got it bad,” Tabitha chanted. She pulled one of her silly faces and made me laugh—a throwback from our younger years. Tabitha loved to pull faces, often behind a superior’s back, leaving me alone to face that person. We used to kill ourselves laughing afterwards and I always forgave her.

  We’d had different reactions to the deaths of our mothers. Tabitha didn’t handle her mother’s death to cancer well, hiding her sorrow behind a guise of rebelliousness. I hid mine in books and playing mother to my distraught father.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  My father headed straight for the glass cabinet. A startled expression filled his face. “It’s original Celtic scroll.” His voice was filled with more emotion than I’d recalled in some time.

  When Greta showed us the guest room earlier, I was relieved to discover that it was on the ground floor. Then the realization hit me: my father would spend much of his waking time in the library. What if my screams traveled while I was in the throes of an orgasm? Oh, hell.

  And then there was Greta. I had developed a close relationship with her. How would she take to my sleeping with Aidan? It was all too complicated for my overwrought mind.

  After settling my father in, I decided on a walk around the grounds to empty my mind. I had invited my father, but he was lost in library wonderland as if it contained some time-shifting magic. Something told me he might never leave that room. I would have to remember to ask Aidan if his room was soundproofed.

  My beloved old elm tree caught my eye, and I decided to pause there as I lowered my sex-drugged body to the ground. Was innocence simpler? Yes. Was it better? No.

  A whiff of sea air hit my face. I inhaled it deeply. It only ever took one puff to feel restored and empowered. Strange really—I could conquer everything when surrounded by nature. My insecurities kind of dissolved.

  Thoughts drifted off with the wind as I pulled at the grass. The delicious throb between my legs kept activating memories of how Aidan felt—something I kept reliving over and over again. Then, without warning, I cried, releasing salty tears like the sea-air circling around me. I’d become fragile and needy. Aidan had dug that deeply into me. I no longer recognized myself. I smelt him on my skin. I felt him filling me deeply by rubbing my thighs together.

  Heavy panting woke me out of my Aidan-filled reverie. I glanced up and saw Rocket. “Hello boy.” I patted him as his tail wagged enthusiastically. He seemed so happy to see me, his dark eyes ebullient and loving as ever. “Where have you been hiding?”

  A young man ran up to me and said, “Sorry about that.” He was about my age. His eyes fired up when he saw me. “I’m Roland.” He held out his hand.

  “I’m Clarissa,” I said, rubbing Rocket’s white chest.

  “Oh, you’re the new PA, aren’t you?” Roland had smiling blue eyes and sun- bleached hair.

  I nodded. “Are you employed to look after Rocket?”

  He chuckled. “Amongst other things. I’m the gardener mainly, although I’ve been away on a surfing trip. I normally live at the back.”

  “Oh, like me. I’m in the cottage behind the kitchen.”

  “Makes sense. That’s where Amy used to live.”

  “What was she like?” I asked brazenly. Curiosity trumped any discretion I would normally have exercised.

  “She was okay, I suppose. A bit high-strung.” Roland sat down on the ground.

  “You knew her well, then?”

  “You could say that,” said Roland in a grim tone.

  “Oh, were you together?” I asked. He nodded.

  “For a while, but then she had a fling with Aidan.”

  “That must have hurt.”

  “It did. But Aidan was her prize catch. She didn’t consider that he would just use her. You know he’s a bit of a ladies’ man?” Roland picked at the grass. He looked up and studied my face. Was he trying to warn me?

  “He lured her, then?” I asked.

  “No. Aidan’s not like that. He’s actually a good person. She got drunk and ended up in his room. She was kind of sexy. It would have been hard to resist her.”

  Ouch. That was extremely jarring. Ice filled my veins. Oh, why did I have to go there? Like a true masochist, I persisted nevertheless. “So did it keep happening, this thing between with her and Aidan?”

  He shook his head. “No. It was one night only. From what I heard, Aidan tried to calm her down. Amy was a mess.” Roland sighed. “After that, she lost her job, mainly because she made such a scene.”

  I nodded.

  “And then Aidan’s fiancée entered the fray and…” He chuckled.

  “Fiancée?” My eyes bulged out of my head. “He’s got a fiancée?”

  “Last time I heard.” Roland stood up.

  I wanted to ask more questions, but figured I’d already probably pushed my limit.

  The rest of the day was a blur. When I joined my father for dinner, at his urging, I was as pale as a ghost. Although he was off in literary la la land, my father did still notice. When he patted my hand, I felt such a lump in my throat, I had to leave, claiming to have a headache.

  In any case, Greta was there fussing over him. And Dad looked very fetching in his hounds-tooth jacket with leather patches and silk scarf.

  As soon as I arrived back to the cottage, I flicked up my laptop and went on a search, googling Aidan Thornhill’s fiancée. Within a click, I was staring at a leggy redhead standing intimately close to him. Her eyes were on him while he had an aloof expression. Shit.

  She was gorgeous in a confected way—tall and slinky. How was it we didn’t find this out when Tabitha went on her googling mission? I suppose we didn’t ask the right questions.

  My heart froze. Tossed from such a high, I was now crawling on my stomach in a dark, cold place.

  I jumped when my phone buzzed. It was Aidan, so I sent it off to voicemail. He didn’t leave a message. It rang again. This time, I turned my phone off.

  The following day, I was in the office. I’d hardly slept. Nevertheless, grateful for the distraction, I worked like a maniac, tallying up the accounts for all Thornhill Holdings’ charities. I was too nauseous to eat. Boy, I had it bad.

  Around mid-morning, the office phone rang, and I answered it. At the other end I heard a husky, “Clarissa.” It was Aidan.

  “Oh… hi,” I replied, trembling.

  “Why haven’t you left your phone on? I’ve been trying to call you all night. And this morning… I’m going to have get you a few phones, I think,” said Aidan, not hiding his annoyance.

  That riled me. I hadn’t slept, and my emotions were raw. “When were you going to tell me about Jessica Mansfield?”

  There was silence at the other end.

  “That’s what I thought. Look, Aidan, thanks for everything. I love my job. So I’ll find a way to get over…” I couldn’t say it. My voice cracked. Tears threatened to crush me.

  “It’s not what you think. I’ve left her. I left her before we got together. It’s just not public record yet.”

  “Apparently, you’re a ladies’ man,” I said quietly.

  “Who the fuck has been filling you with this shit?”

  “Aidan, I can’t talk now. I hope you’ll let me keep my job.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, the job’s yours. Don’t do this, Clarissa.”

  “I have to get back to work.” I could barely speak. My voice was swamped by the threat of tears. I hung up quickly. My hands shook.

  By day’s end, I’d finished the entire accounts. Considering they should have taken me a week to complete, Greta looked both impressed and perplexed. She intuited something was wrong.

  Gr
eta, on the other hand, looked prettier than usual with her hair down and sporting a feminine blouse. She was also unusually buoyant. Blessed with Aidan’s blue eyes, she was looking very attractive.

  Before heading back to the cottage, I decided to drop in on my father. Not surprisingly, I found him in a leather armchair, lost in a book. It was such a moving image that tears welled up.

  My father peered up over his spectacles. “Hello, Clarissa.” He smiled and appeared well rested. It had been awhile since I’d seen him looking so well.

  I entered the library and hugged him.

  He studied me, and a frown developed. “Are you all right, sweetheart? You don’t seem well.” My father placed his book down carefully on the walnut table.

  “I’m okay, Daddy,” I said, mustering the strength to avoid crying. I tilted my head towards his book. “Poe. You’re reading Edgar Allan Poe.”

  My father’s dark eyes glowed as if he’d encountered something metaphysical. “Oh, it’s wondrous. A first edition. I can’t put it down.”

  “American Literature. I would’ve thought you’d be obsessing over his Dickens collection, particularly Bleak House.” I ran my eyes over the extraordinary collection, housed in dark, wooden shelves.

  “I’m getting there, love. It’s one huge, splendid banquet. I don’t want to stuff my face too quickly.” He chuckled. My father’s mirth thawed the ice from my chest.

  I hugged him again. “It’s so great to have you here, Daddy.”

  “Oh, I’m in heaven, my angel. I’m in heaven.”

  That same night, at nine o’clock, a bang came to my door. Just having showered, I’d planned for an early night. But with desolation hanging like a cold, dark cloud, I resorted to watching television instead.

  I opened the door and stuck my head out.

  Aidan stood there in the dark. “Please let me in.”

  Reluctant to make a scene, I let him in. Dressed in a transparent shift, I hugged my body. He’d seen it all before. And anyway, this way I would inflict agony.

  It worked. His smoldering eyes, all needy and dark, supped on me.

  “I flew over after my meeting.” Aidan pushed his hair back nervously. “Clarissa, I needed to see you, to explain.” He took my hand. Electric sparks radiated off him. My skin tingled. My need was ferocious.

  “Aidan, I can’t do this.” I stepped away from him. His touch had my heart hollering to lead him into the bedroom. “I’m too fragile for this.”

  “It’s only you I want, Clarissa.” His rasp transmitted through my flesh, making my legs liquid.

  I hugged my breasts. My nipples pierced the backs of my hands. Aidan’s eyes grew so heavy with tormenting lust he had to look away.

  Finding it hard to stay away for too long, however, his eyes met mine again. There, I saw pain, raw and unhidden, reflecting my own state.

  “I should’ve told you about my engagement to Jessica. But I’m no longer with her. I ended it last month. It’s just that the media haven’t been informed. Something I should’ve done. But I hate that circus.” His clenched jaw relaxed, and his eyes softened. “Clarissa, I’m not good with words. But I want you so much it hurts.”

  Helplessly, I fell into his arms. Welcoming him, my lips parted. Aidan plunged right in and kissed me. It was tender at first. Then his silken tongue took me, all feverish and starved, while his needy hands caressed my breasts.

  I craved his touch desperately. Moisture dripped between my legs as his hard, urging cock pressed against my thigh.

  Snapping out of my drugged state, I pulled away. “No, I can’t do this, Aidan. You have to leave.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  AIDAN

  She drew me into her soulful eyes. Seeing Clarissa like that—semi-naked, hair hanging provocatively over her full breasts, and not wearing a scrap of make-up, just a natural, cock-swelling beauty, left me gasping for air. Words stuck in my throat. The ache was unbearable. Clarissa’s persistent refusal to meet my gaze broke me.

  I left, severely dejected with the urge to cry out like a lone, desperate wolf.

  The next day was extremely busy. I was back in New York. Solarm was up and running. I’d arranged for a company in Germany to train locals the craft of solar-panel building. After that, they would install them in areas of need. Any leftover energy generated would be sold off, thus paying for itself.

  My phone buzzed. It was my mother. She’d been ringing all week. As always, I tried to avoid her. My bitter and twisted mother was, as usual, drunk and high on weed.

  Bankrolling her lifestyle, I’d bought her a comfortable home. But she was permanently unsatisfied, and always hounding me.

  I picked up her call. “Hey there,” I said, trying to sound welcoming despite the heaviness in my head. The last thing I needed was to listen to her gripes.

  “At last, you picked up. Don’t think that just because you pay me every month that somehow releases you from filial duties.” My mother slurred her words.

  I looked at my watch, it was only one o’clock in the afternoon. “You sound hammered.”

  “What do you expect? I have a heartless son who never comes to visit me. I’m so lonely…”

  “Look, I’m busy. What’s up?”

  “I’d like a visit from my one and only child.” She raised her voice.

  Cringing, I wondered if I’d been dropped by a stork; my mother seemed so foreign to me. I’d tried tenderness over the years. That only made her worse. I also tried the best psychiatrists money could buy, but my mother refused to attend.

  “I’m in New York all week. I’ll be back on the weekend. I’ll come by then,” I said. The thought of doing so froze my soul.

  “Yeah, yeah, heard that before… listen, I need more cash.”

  “What happened to the ten grand I deposited two days ago?” It wasn’t the money. It was her drinking, her drug habit. I had two of them to carry—Bryce, who was bleeding me through gambling, and my profligate mother.

  “Yeah, well, so what? I want to go to Vegas,” she said petulantly.

  “Okay…” I sighed deeply. “I’ll deposit more cash today.”

  “Hey, by the way, I heard from Sharon. You know that bitch pedophile’s neighbor.”

  I gripped the phone. “Stop calling her that. Her name was Jacqueline. And I was a consenting seventeen-year-old.” My knuckles were white from rage. That was all it took—a few minutes of conversing with my mother—for the beast to be unleashed.

  “Whatever… anyway, do you remember her?”

  How could I ever forget her? It was Sharon’s big mouth that exposed the relationship I was having with my schoolteacher.

  Jacqueline, my busty teacher, had been one very desirable woman. Even though she looked younger, she was twenty-seven when I was in her class. Wearing low-cut blouses, she’d often pick up the chalk at my feet. It was hard not to be seduced. I lost my virginity to her. I was tall for my age. And she quickly became insatiable for my larger-than-usual-cock. Or at least, she kept reminding me of that. She also gave me my first ever head-job. For a boy from a messed-up household with a heavy weed-smoking-drunk parent, Jacqueline Howard was like an angel from heaven. That was, until her nosey neighbor got involved and caused a major scandal. Jacqueline lost her job. Her brute husband, a violent, son of a bitch, beat her to death. Hence, I left home and joined the army.

  “What about her?” I asked.

  “She told me that John Howard’s been released.”

  I stiffened. “What, already?”

  “He’s served fourteen years,” my mother responded dryly.

  “For the sadistic slaying of his wife, he should have got life.”

  “He’s after blood. He’s after you, Aidan.”

  “Well, I don’t give a fuck. I can defend myself.” The pulse at the side of my neck thumped hard. “Look, I’ve got to go.”

  My lungs expanded out slowly as I exhaled a stuttered breath. This situation called for more security. And Clarissa would have to learn of my
checkered past. The thought brought bile to my throat. How could a pure soul like Clarissa accept someone with such a fucked-up history as mine.

  Barraged by monsters from my past, I jumped when my phone vibrated.

  “Kieren,” I said, placing my legs up on my desk.

  “Aidan, how are you?” His baritone calmed me instantly.

  “I’ve been better.”

  “Tell me what’s happening.”

  I let out a deep breath. “Clarissa, the best thing to happen to me in ages, if not ever, has pushed me away.”

  “Oh… I’m sorry to hear that. Was it too much for her? Is she frightened?”

  “You could say that. She heard I was still engaged and that I’m a ladies’ man,” I said.

  “You didn’t tell her about your recent engagement?”

  “No. We hadn’t got to that stage. I mean, we’ve only been together twice. During that time, there wasn’t a lot of talking.”

  “Yes. You mentioned that it had been very passionate.” He paused. “I take it she hasn’t given you a chance to explain yourself.”

  “What, about being a sex addict?” I said full of self-loathing.

  “Aidan, don’t beat up on yourself. You had much to deal with. At least you didn’t succumb to drugs and liquor like many PTSD sufferers.”

  “Hmm… I fucked half of LA instead,” I said, sighing deeply.

  “Was it that many?” he asked, trying to make light of it.

  “Don’t know. I lost count. It disgusts me. How can an angel like Clarissa accept someone that fucked-up?”

  “But you’ve changed. That’s what counts.”

  “I have. There’s been no-one since Amy. And even then, I didn’t feel like being with her. She was naked in my bed, and I was drunk. Bad excuse, I know.”

  “I remember. You were hard on yourself over that. And did you tell Clarissa about your engagement to Jessica?”

  “No. Another huge fucking failing,” I blurted, frustrated. “I should’ve gone to the media with an announcement. I just didn’t want to upset Jessica. She’s over in England. Rather naively, I thought nobody would notice.” I peered over at my bottle of bourbon. Although it was earlier than usual for a drink, I needed something to remove the edge. “Hang on a minute, Kieren.” I got up and poured myself a generous measure and returned to face the screen.