by Emily Bowie
I nod my head, acknowledging them. “Good evening.”
“This is Tyson Bennett, longtime family friend.” She sits down, dabbing her eyes.
I notice the two cops stand taller upon hearing my name, glancing at each other then to me.
“Mr. Bennett.” The good cop, I’m presuming, comes to shake my hand while the other one stands rigid, taking out his notepad.
“Tyson, I hope you don’t mind if we ask you some questions?” the other one says to me before looking to Andrea. “Is that okay with you, miss, or we could do this down at the station?”
Andrea waves her hand like it’s no big deal as she picks up a picture of her father and sobs all over again.
“What would you like to know?” I keep my confident mask on, unsure where they intend on leading this questioning.
“Do you know whereabouts your father, William Bennett, is?”
So this is where their line of thinking is.
I get questioned about my father for the next few minutes. I give nothing away. Only answering vaguely. The officers thank me then Andrea before they walk themselves out.
Upon hearing the door close, Andrea stops her sobbing and stands up. “Just because you’re mingling with trash doesn’t mean you should start to look like trash,” she says to me, all crying gone. Just like that. It was like someone turned off the tap water and her tears dried instantly.
I have to give it to her, she is a better actress than I would have ever believed.
“You do realize how bad it looks that your father, my father’s best friend, has not shown his face since my dad was murdered.” She begins grabbing the throw pillows and fluffs them before rearranging their positioning on the couch.
“To be honest, he hasn’t been in town since before he died. But who cares about the details, right?” I challenge her.
“Tyson, there are rumors of an uprising. People are not happy with the status quo.” She looks to me like I have lost my mind. “You and I need to show that we are united.”
“There is no we, Andrea.”
“Oh get over yourself, Bennett. The council has moved up the leader succession meeting.”
I shrug, portraying that I don’t give a shit. When inside I feel like I may explode out of my skin. My face remains expressionless, as I attempt to portray my boredom in this topic.
“For a girl who just got into this, I’m a little shocked you care so much.” I begin to slowly walk around the large room that I have been in thousands of times over the years. We even had Christmas in here once. I look at the photos that line a few select surfaces.
“This is our family’s legacy, don’t give me crap like that. We both know how much I have always wanted this.”
I turn and look at her. She is rearranging the coasters into neat piles now. “That’s the thing, Andrea, I honestly had no clue just how badly you wanted this.” There is so much accusation in my tone as I look down at her. I hate the our and we she placed directly at me in those few sentences.
“Remember, it was my father who was just murdered, and I seem to be the only one who gives a damn about him and this so-called gentlemen’s club that everyone wants to keep me away from.” She raises her voice throughout the sentence while tightening her fists, giving away just how livid she is.
“You know what, if you don’t care, why should I?” A forced smile graces her face and she looks much better with it on than the scowl she was wearing.
“Well, I’m glad we have it all understood now.” I dip my head and walk toward the front door. As my hand reaches for the handle, I call over my shoulder, “See you at the meeting, or not.”
Going outside, I head toward Jewels’s car, kicking at the asphalt but wishing there were some rocks to kick, too. I could really use a punching bag right now. My mind immediately goes to the one my dad put up for Chase after he came to live with us. We all got some use out of it over the years.
In this moment I know I need to have some form of control and plan on kicking Jewels out of the driver’s seat. But as I approach the car I notice the door is slightly ajar and her purse is sitting in the passenger seat. Looking around, her flip-flops are at the edge of the driveway where it meets the grass.
My heart stops along with my breathing as I scan the area, on high alert of my surroundings. Taking three large strides I stand on the edge of the driveway, scanning for any movement. There isn’t even a breeze to move the few large trees. The pond is like ice, not even a duck on it. She is gone.
Chapter 20
JEWELS
The grass pokes my skin as I lie on it, stretching my limbs and cooling down after being stuck in the overly hot car. I have no idea how long Tyson is going to be. Even in the shade, I can feel my skin reacting over my body’s attempt to cool me down. Slowly it becomes peppered with small dew-like perspiration. I close my eyes, just enjoying the solitude. Something my life has not had since I met Tyson. Tyson has changed everything I know and has flipped my world on its head. If I were honest with myself, this is the most fun and liberating time of my life. I have never felt so free and in charge of my own life.
“Country, what the fuck are you doing?” Tyson’s harsh words break the silence and I hear duck wings flapping as they try to escape into the water where they feel safe. Sitting up, I see him marching toward me, looking furious.
“Everything all right?” I ask, not knowing what I could have done to upset him.
“Why are you not in the car?”
I slowly stand up. “It was a death trap in there. I’m pretty sure I would have died from heat exhaustion. But thanks for checking in with me,” I snap back. Moody, cocky dick.
Narrowing his eyes, he shoots me a look.
“You thought something happened to me.” It is a statement not a question. He looks sexier than hell brooding over this. It’s pretty darn sweet.
“How the hell was I supposed to know? You left your car door open and flip-flops on the road.”
Going up to him, I wrap my hands around his waist and pull him to me. “You like me,” I sing.
“I did say you are my girl,” he answers, clipped.
“No, like you really like me,” I sing back, loving how this is making my stomach butterfly and my heart speed up.
He looks down at me and chuckles. “Get in the car.”
Letting him go, I skip—yes, actually skip—to the car.
“Other side. I’m driving,” he calls out from behind me just as I am about to pass the passenger side. And I have to admit there is something sexy about him driving my car. In fact, he would be the first person I ever let drive my car.
“So where to now?” I ask.
“We’re going back to my place. I need to figure out what is going on.”
*
We park a few blocks from Tyson’s building and I feel strange for sneaking inside, even though it isn’t difficult. His fob for the parking garage still works and the elevator code still works for the penthouse.
“I would say stay on lookout, but if anyone comes it’s too late anyway,” he tells me as he goes to his door. His hand is steady and shows no nerves. Me, on the other hand, my hands can’t stop shaking for him. I hold my breath as his key goes in, then with a smooth flick of his wrist the key turns and the door opens. I let out my breath. I thought his key didn’t work.
He turns to me and shrugs as he opens the door. I expect an alarm or screaming to go off telling everyone we are here. But I am met with silence.
“Jewels,” Tyson calls me from inside.
I can’t help but to shush him. I don’t want to go to jail. Slowly, I make my way inside and it looks fine. It looks like what I remember minus the guy dying on the couch of course.
“Take out your phone,” he orders me. Pulling it out of my back pocket I do as I am told. I watch him press on his phone then stares intently at mine. I wait for something to happen, not sure what he is up to.
“Are you okay?” I question. He’s been acting funny all afternoon. H
e takes the phone out of my hand and looks at it.
“Someone is setting me up.” Tyson marvels at my phone then looks to all of his possessions in the right place, like it has always been here.
“Someone rerouted my phone, motherfuckers.” My eyebrows arch up as I watch him talk to himself, wishing I even had a clue to what he was talking about. Or a way to help him.
He stands, tapping his foot as he thinks. “I need to strike back.”
My stomach seems to have a mind of its own as it growls, trying to put up a fight. With everything going on I had forgotten that the last time I ate was breakfast and it’s well past dinnertime.
“Well,”—he looks at me, smirking—“should we eat or have dessert first?”
My insides do a happy dance at the way he says ‘dessert’ then looks at me with lust-filled eyes. I step inside and close the door, trying to be coy. Everyone likes a little chase, where would the fun be if I just dropped to my knees, right?
I tug on a loose strand of my hair and curl it around my finger as I pretend to think about the question. Amusement flashes over his eyes and his smile gets cocky. I watch him as he strips out of his dirty T-shirt, leaving his six-pack and solid chest on display for me. I try not to drool. He is a freak of nature with how good-looking he is. He is a girl’s wet dream.
He begins to unbuckle his belt. “What are you doing?” My voice is flirty but I don’t feel as confident as I sound.
“Figured I’d have a quick shower before we order in.” He gives me a wink as he heads off to where I presume the shower is, leaving me alone in his living room. My thoughts are racing to him, naked in his shower, wondering if he is touching himself. I’m also curious to know if he actually thought I would rather eat.
I have to squeeze my legs together, calming myself down. I want to have that same control over him as he does me. I want him to crave my touch like I feel for him right now. I think about his hard cock and want to taste it, feel him on my tongue. Trying to lead my thoughts away from him, I look around his polished, sophisticated, and yet very masculine home. It suits him. I’m almost positive he decorated it himself. If an interior designer had it would have more of a woman’s touch I would think.
It doesn’t take long for Tyson to come walking out in a clean pair of jeans, still shirtless which further torments my hormones. His hair is wet and a few small beads of water drip down his chest.
He stops in front of his leather couch, just short of me.
I take a deep breath in, pulling in all of my confidence as I sashay to him. Pressing my body into him, I tilt my head back when he places his hand at the nape of my neck and kisses me. We fight for control of the kiss, and in the end I submit to his tongue that massages mine. I can’t help but press my chest harder into him. But I’m not content, this plan of mine was to have power over him. Slowly, he breaks the kiss and I playfully push him onto the couch. He obviously likes it as he willingly flops down. I definitely don’t have the strength to force him to do anything.
Straddling him, I kiss him again as I fidget with the button of his pants, placing my plan into action. Upon freeing the little copper button, my ears welcome the sound of his zipper lowering with my fingers before placing my hand inside to feel his already hard cock in his boxer shorts.
“You want to taste me?” His voice is hoarse with arousal, making me want to do this even more.
“Go on your knees and look at me,” he demands. I flush with desire from his demanding words. Taking my time, I slowly slide down him, allowing my hand to trace down his mountains of muscles, until I am in position. I can’t help but lick my lips trying to wet my dry mouth.
When he feels content he speaks again, “Take my cock into your hands.” Pushing up from my knees I bend over him, freeing his trapped cock. I take it into my hand and wrap my fingers around to stroke him. I have never seen such a big, beautiful cock before. In general, I always thought they were kind of ugly. But his is smooth with a few veiny ridges, the tip a dark pink. I bend my head, wanting to kiss it. Lightly, I press my lips to his dick and I can feel it twitch at my touch.
“Open your mouth and take me in. I want to feel those lips on me.” I can feel his hands wrap around my hair but he allows me to guide myself.
Opening my mouth, I twirl my tongue along the top of the head, teasing for a brief moment before I suck the tip. His grip gets a little tighter and I know he wants me. I smile to myself knowing that I have the power to undo him right now. Sinking slightly deeper, I massage the under part of his head that ridges up. He growls, moving his hips upward in an attempt to get me to suck down his shaft. But instead I move back up to the tip before moving my mouth off completely.
“Greedy, aren’t we?” I say, leaving no time for a reply before I take him back into my mouth, going lower toward his base. I can hear him mumble something that sounds like ‘little minx.’
My hand begins to stroke him in unison with my mouth, taking part of the base that I can’t seem to reach. His hips continue to buck, making me feel powerful. I do this to him. He needs me.
“Relax your jaw and take me in deep, baby.” I try to do as he says, relishing in the fact this is the first time he’s called me ‘baby.’ An enduring term in my mind. Concentrating, I take him in deeper; taking three tries before I feel him hit the back of my throat. There is a brief moment where I feel the need to gag, but I ignore it. Doing this to him has made my panties wet. I like giving head.
I suck all the way to the tip to allow for a second of air to get back into my lungs before I go back down.
“You are so hot with my cock in your mouth, baby.”
I can feel his cock pulse in my mouth; I know he’s close. He tugs on my hair and I know he wants me to come up, but I can’t. I want to be his undoing. I want to make him come in my mouth. I want him to taste himself on me. I am his.
“Jewels, I’m going to come.” It comes out in short breaths, like he fought to get the words out.
I suck harder and deeper. My cheeks hurt from being hollowed in so far. I don’t let go. My lips and tongue wrap around him as he bucks.
“Jewels, last warning.”
With that he tugs on my head, guiding me deeper as he begins to fuck my mouth like it were my pussy. I moan around his cock, I’m so turned on I feel like if he were just to put his finger on me I would come, too.
Then he touches my core through my clothes, like he knows my unspoken words. He rubs me as best as he can as he’s fucking my mouth, and I can’t help but let go of the desire flowing through me, to only have it explode the same time I feel his hot cum fly into my throat. But I don’t stop and neither does he. We both ride out our orgasms until there is nothing else to give or take.
“Holy shit. You are fucking amazing,” he says between his labored breaths as he pulls me up to him and we fall onto the cushions holding each other.
Once we catch our breaths, I can’t help but feel pretty smug about what I just did to him. “You know I am going to have to punish you for not listening to me.” I squeeze me legs together at his words.
“So I should listen to you next time?” I mock him.
“Oh no, Country, next time feel free to disobey me, misbehave, or disregard me.” He gives me a playful wink. “I have a feeling once you get your punishment you won’t be listening to me very much anyway.”
I let out a giggle. “Oh, baby, you know I’m not the obeying type anyway.”
He holds me closer. “And that’s what I love about you.”
Love. Four little letters that has caused countries to fall. It is powerful. Those four little letters are able to make or break the best of most people. ‘That’s what I love about you.’ I take comfort by snuggling deeper into him. For a man who, on the outside, seems so reckless with hearts and so forbidden to love, he seems so recklessly forbidden in my own heart. But being here with him, knowing him, he is slowly becoming the forbidden fruit my heart wants most.
Those thoughts are terrifying to me. I’m on the
verge of allowing myself to love this man. But the thought is so scary, I don’t know if I can allow it. I have been burned with loving too much. My body, my heart won’t repair itself the next time it breaks. If I let him in, he will own me. If he leaves, he will take my whole heart, giving me nothing to hold back. I can’t survive without my heart.
I try to shove these thoughts out, forcing my mind not to go there. To live in the present, to enjoy this moment. He did not say that he loved me. We are much too soon for that. I allow myself to repeat the facts that are to be true.
We order in Thai, and made love—no, we fucked hard like our lives depended on it, it had nothing to do with our hearts. I can’t yet admit to myself it was anything more.
Chapter 21
TYSON
Jewels falls asleep in my arms, and I feel content, for the first time in my life. Most successful people don’t feel content, at least not for long. I want people to see my name and know I mean business and that they need my type of power on their side. I’m not one of those people who worry if someone is friends with me because of who I am. I have my family for that. Slipping out from Jewels, I have to stop myself before I include her name onto that list of mine.
Going to my computer, I search around on it. I don’t trust Andrea. My fingers twitch at the thought of wanting to blackmail someone, anyone. I just wish I fucking knew who. First thing is placing surveillance on Andrea. I want to know her every move.
Just as the sun comes up, I slide in next to Jewels, closing my eyes and hoping for sleep to take me under.
*
Waking up, the sun is shining right into my eyes, and I throw a pillow over my face, not ready to start the day. Slowly, the smell of bacon and coffee drifts into the room. The thought of my country girl in my kitchen cooking for me makes me smile. No one I ever fucked could cook, never mind cook me anything. I supplied the dinners they supplied the fuck. That’s usually how it went. It wasn’t like a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am thing; I was polite, we enjoyed ourselves. But at the end neither of us would want to stay, we had shit to do.
