The Misters Series (Mister #1-7)

by J. A. Huss

  “This is…”

  “Hot?” she purrs.

  “Yes,” I say. Because she’s wiggling her curvy hips as she walks towards me. Have I ever seen the princess’ breasts so… openly?

  Nope. I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.

  “Erotic?” she asks, taking my tie in her fingertips and pulling me towards her.

  “Definitely.” I smile.

  “Am I making you hungry, Five Aston? Hungry for my body.” She bats her eyelashes at me, cartoon-style. “Do you want to eat me up?”

  My hands land on her waist just as she slides hers around the back of my neck. “Hmmm,” I say, playing it cool. “I haven’t eaten dinner yet, Princess.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” she says, still in that low hum of a voice. She leans up on her tiptoes and then those perfectly plump lips are on mine. I pull her close—fuck the whip cream and the five-thousand-dollar suit—and kiss her back.

  Her tongue is sweet. Like she’s been sampling her outfit while she was waiting for me. She tastes like the past, the present, and the future all at once.

  When she pulls back, she squints her eyes in confusion.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “How did you get whip cream on your nose?” And then her hand goes up to her face and finds her little mistake. “Oh, my God. Please tell me that wasn’t there when I was in seduction mode!”

  I lean down and lick it off, then kiss her lips again.

  The last time I kissed Rory Shrike was six summers ago when I was leaving town. It was a quick kiss at the airport. In front of her father. My father. It was a stupid kiss.

  But this one… this one is the do-over I’ve been dreaming about.

  I hold her face in my hands and lose my mind as visions of corrupting my strawberry princess flood in.

  “Take me to your room,” she says. “Right now. I want this, Five Aston. I need this.”

  I ignore all her pleas as I lean down to pluck the strawberry from her nipple. Her breasts are large, and round, and perfect. I hold it in my hand, my cock getting hard, and lick her until her head falls back and her mouth opens into a moan.

  “Fuck me,” she whispers.

  “I thought it was, Kiss me,” I say, crouching down until I’m eye-to-eye with her whip cream pussy. I pluck that strawberry off too, then swipe my tongue up her slit and get a mouthful of sweet cream.

  “We’re moving on,” she says, her voice a little squeaky from my sudden position change.

  I slip my finger between her legs, letting it slide through the fluffy mound of white, and find her opening.

  “Five,” she moans. “Take me upstairs.”

  Upstairs. She’s so cute.

  “I’m gonna fuck you right here on the steps, Princess.”

  “Yes,” she says, fisting my hair as I go back in for another taste. “Yes. You have no idea how long—”

  Her phone rings. The musical trill of Some Day My Prince Will Come echoes. We both stop to look around. Her phone is lit up and about to vibrate off the foyer table when I rush over and catch it one-handed, just before it crashes onto the tile.

  The screen says, Daddy.

  Jesus.

  I hand it over. Rory’s eyes go wide as she sees who it is and she tabs Accept, saying, “Yes, Daddy?”

  “Where are you, Rory?” Spencer has always been a loud guy. Big, and rough, and tattooed from head to toe in black and red birds and skulls.

  “Oh, well, I’m in Fort Collins. Five came home and—”

  “Are you at the farm?” he asks.

  “No,” Rory says, wincing as she looks down at her half-eaten outfit. “No, I’m at Five’s right now.”

  “Is he there?” Spencer asks.

  Rory looks at me. I shake my head furiously. I do not need a conversation with Spencer Shrike right now. Not when I still have her pussy cream all over my hands and the taste of strawberry sex in my mouth.

  “Yes,” Rory says in her sweet Daddy voice. “He’s here.”

  “Put him on,” Spencer growls.

  Rory hands me the phone. We really need to have a long conversation about when it is, and isn’t, appropriate to lie. “Yes, sir?” I ask the phone.

  “I will charter a fucking jet right now and kick your ass in six hours if you hurt my baby again.”

  I take the phone from my ear and stare at it. Then get a hold of myself. “I won’t.”

  It’s lame. I know it’s lame. But Spencer Shrike has that effect on people.

  “Put Rory back on.”

  I hand the phone to Rory. She takes it and says, “Yes, Daddy?”

  “Have fun, Princess. We’ll be back next week. We hope you stay in town and wait for us.”

  “OK,” she says. “I’ll stay if Five does.” She winks at me, like this is so clever. But I can only imagine how her father is taking that little challenge right now.

  They exchange a few more pleasantries, and then she hangs up. “There’s no cameras in here, right?”

  “I have no idea,” I say. “But I’m pretty sure if my dad had cameras he’d keep his mouth shut about this little unauthorized adventure.”

  “Good,” Princess says, tossing her phone onto a foyer chair. “Then let’s just pick it right back up—”

  But I hold up a hand to stop her. Because even though Spencer Shrike is kind of a dick to me—and has been my whole life—he’s one hundred percent serious about what he will do if I hurt his baby. And at this point, I don’t think there’s any way in the world Rory doesn’t get hurt by me.

  “Rory,” I say.

  “What?” She’s got a look of mania in her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of my father? You’ve never been—”

  “No,” I say. Although that’s not entirely true. Anyone who isn’t afraid of Spencer is just a dumbass. “It’s just… I want to do this right, Ror. I can stay the weekend. But…”

  Her face crumples. “You’re leaving me again?”

  I want to say no. Never. But I am. Because I have to. That meeting in Denver, the code in my pocket, the business on the other side of the world. It’s all interfering in her grand plans to find the happily ever after. And she deserves to know that before I finish eating her up for dessert.

  I want to offer up some kind of condolence. Tell her I’m doing this for us. That I love her, and only her, and will never love anyone else for as long as I live. But she doesn’t give me a chance. She turns on her heel, walks into the hall bathroom, and less than two minutes later comes out dressed, clutching her purse, and snatches her phone off the chair as she passes me.

  “Call me when you’re serious about us, Five. Because I’m sick of your boyish games.”

  The door slams behind her.

  The silence in her wake is deafening.

  Chapter Seven - Rory

  The Flynn house is a large, rambling mid-century modern situated on a half-acre piece of property close to City Park, which means it’s only a couple blocks away from Five and Kate’s house. You can walk everywhere from here. Well, if it’s downtown, that is.

  There are no lights on when I get there and park on the street out front. Not even a porch light. But I know this place almost as well as I know my own family home, so I slip out of my car and walk around back to the massive screened-in porch.

  Kate is here. She wanted Five and me to have privacy at her parents’ place. She’s probably sleeping on the couch, since my sister is in Starling’s room and Oliver, no doubt, took over the guest room.

  But it doesn’t matter to me that there’s no beds.

  Sparrow, Kate, and I grew up together. Typically, when three girls are best friends someone gets left out. But that’s not how this friendship works with us. And it’s funny now that I think about it, because my mom, Sparrow’s mom, and Kate’s mom were all BFFs when they were young too. And they never had problems like that either.

  Kate is the oldest at twenty-three, Sparrow is the youngest at twenty, and I’m in the middle at twenty-one. It w
as kind of a big gap when we were all really young. But the Shrike Ranch tied us together. They kept their ponies and horses out there, took riding lessons out there, and we would spend every minute doing that horse-crazy girl stuff until we were well into our teens. In fact, I think it only died down my last year in high school. Kate had already taken off for college and Sparrow was dating a guy that year. So we drifted a little.

  But whenever I had a problem I always knew I could count on them and sneaking into Sparrow’s house via the back porch was how I did it.

  When I open the squeaky door and step in—it feels like coming home all over again.

  They have a glider that takes up a whole wall, it’s so long. Some old thing that looks like it was brand new about the same time this house was built. And I can’t even count the number of times I slept on this thing when I stayed overnight in the summers.

  When we were small, all three of us would sleep out here—Sparrow and I on opposite ends of the glider, feet and legs and knees wiggling against each other, and Kate, who was the tallest, on the hammock strung up in one corner.

  We have a river running through the back of our farm. It’s dangerous, and loud, and rages with white water foam in the spring time when the snow melts.

  But the Flynns have some second-cousin-twice-removed creek as their backdrop. It’s gentle and bubbling. The kind of sound people pay good money to listen to as white noise.

  It’s that sound I concentrate on now. I slip out of my shoes and shorts, grab the quilt that always seems to be ready for me, and lie down. My head hits a faded outdoor pillow that matches the glider, and I sigh.

  Fucking Five.

  Why can’t he just see things my way? We’re grown-ups now. That stupid kid stuff is over. And I’m ready to start something new.

  I don’t want to be his princess. I want to be his queen.

  Obviously, he’s not reading from the same script.

  I sigh, tired enough to let it go for now and find solace looking for sleep. I mean, after all, this is just how it is. How it’s always been. I’m pretty used to the disappointment I feel about Five by now.

  I let the bubbling brook soothe me. I forget about where I was this morning. Forget about how I got to this moment right now. And I drift into dreams I wish I could live in…

  “Princess.”

  I’ve been waiting for him. I saw him when Sparrow, Kate, and I were at the FoCo Theatre getting milkshakes before the movie. And he saw me, too. He knew where I’d be tonight.

  “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

  “God,” I whisper, because I don’t want to wake the others. “You’re so stupid, Five.”

  “Princess Aurora. That’s Sleeping Beauty, right?”

  “Shhhh,” I say, untangling my legs from Sparrow’s as I try to maneuver myself off the glider without making it… you know. Glide.

  He takes my hand as soon as I’m up, and pulls me towards the squeaky screen door. He opens it carefully and we slip out and run across the grass towards the brook.

  This is a ritual now. He came to me three times last summer in the middle of the night. Three times he woke me up. Three times he took my hand. Three times we ran across the grass to the creek.

  But this is the first time this summer. And this summer we’re older. He’s much taller than me now. Almost six feet tall, even though he’s only fifteen.

  When we get to the edge of the water I look up at him. It feels like the moon has a spotlight on us. Like the stars only twinkle for us. Like the night is only here so we can steal a moment together.

  “Wanna go in?” he asks.

  I just stare at him and nod. I don’t care where he wants to take me, I want to go. I want to say yes to everything. So I say, “Yes.”

  Going in doesn’t mean swimming. The Colorado nights are too cold to swim in a river, even in the summer. Plus, it’s not a river, it’s a brook. So going in implies getting our feet wet.

  “Come on, then,” Five says, leading me over to the rock.

  It’s large, and long, and flat, and gray. Every one of us kids has played on this rock over the years. But Five is the only one who brings me out here at night. Alone.

  I feel like this is the night. A kiss? Maybe?

  And could there be a more perfect place and time for it?

  Not in my mind.

  Sometimes, usually in the early spring, but sometimes after a hard rain, the rock is under water a few inches. Us kids have spent many a hot summer afternoon in the pouring rain enjoying that special treat from this rock. But tonight the water level is low, so we can sit on it, keep dry, and dangle our bare feet in the water.

  Five likes to wear suits, but not when he comes to steal me away in the night. On all those nights he’s been wearing shorts, just like he is now. Tan cargo shorts with a white t-shirt that makes him look so utterly different than he normally is. And he never wears shoes.

  I like this about him. Because it means he plans for our special alone moments. He spends hours, maybe days, possibly even weeks planning for them.

  We sit down, me in my night shorts and him in his secret shorts, and dangle our feet over the edge.

  “I’m leaving in a few days,” he says.

  “I know,” I say, squeezing his hand. “Stanford should be fun though, right?”

  He smiles at me. It’s both regretful and satisfied at the same time. “Robots, right? It’s so hard to say no.”

  I smile back, feeling both of the same emotions. “You be you, Five. That’s all I want.”

  “What are you gonna do this summer? Shows?”

  “Yeah,” I say, kicking my toes back and forth in the slow-running water. “We’re hitting all the big ones this year. Even taking a trip to Maryland.”

  “I bet you win all the ribbons, Princess. You’re gonna sweep that horse show circuit and turn every head while you do it.”

  “And I bet you build the best robot that school has ever seen, Five. You’re gonna wow the world this summer. And then everyone will know just how special you are.”

  We’re still smiling at each other. Our eyes are perfectly matched. His brown ones. My blue ones. It’s…

  “Princess.”

  The softly whispered words drag me out from the bliss of my dream.

  “Wake up,” Five whispers. “We’ve got a date with a rock.”

  I smile before I open my eyes. How did he know? But when I finally do open them, and our eyes, brown and blue, perfectly matched, meet… Well. I know how.

  “We’re soulmates, Five Aston.” I whisper it, even though I’m out on the back porch alone this secret night. “You know it. I know it. The moon, and sky, and stars all know it. So why? Just tell me why? That’s all I want to know. Is there a special reason? Did you find someone else? Am I disappointing you? What? What is wrong with me that all I ever get from you is a goodbye?”

  He sits down, making the glider sway to and fro a little. And he takes my hand to squeeze it tight. “You know none of those things are why.”

  “I know. But it hurts almost as much that you refuse to trust me. Every bit as much as you finding another girl to love more. You should just trust me.”

  See, here’s the thing. I know what this is probably about. I know he’s got something on his plate. Something to do with our family history. Our parents and the trouble they got into, then got out of. So if this is what’s holding us back, then why can’t he share it with me?

  “Come with me,” Five says. He stands, pulls me to my feet, and we open and close the squeaky screen door. We’re silent as our bare feet walk through dew-covered grass towards the Flynn creek. And this makes me smile—even though I try to hide it—because he showed up in tan cargo shorts, white t-shirt, and bare feet tonight.

  I’m only wearing underwear and my tank top. Which would’ve made me very self-conscious back in my dream memory, but right now just makes me…

  “Should we go in?” he asks.

  The moon lights us up, and the stars show us a private
twinkling, and the night approves of our reunion. “Yes.”

  We walk over to the rock and sit. Our feet know where to go. Our toes know what to do when they hit the water, and our hands never let go.

  It’s perfect. A perfect moment, right here, right now, just like it was in my dream.

  So we enjoy it a little longer.

  Then he says, “You are the love of my life, Aurora Shrike. My heart’s desire. My soulmate. My fate. And there is nothing I want more than to give you everything you want. Show you the entire world. Make you happy.”

  “Then—”

  But he shushes me with a fingertip on my lips. “I can’t say why. I don’t even know why. I just know it’s not yet. That’s all, Rory. That’s all I know. And it’s God’s honest truth. I just need a little more time, and you need one more year of school, and then—”

  But he stops talking.

  “Then what?” I ask, after seconds roll by. “I need something, Five. I don’t know what it is, but I need something. Because I’m starting to become sad. Thinking of you makes me sad and that’s now how I want things to be. Life is short. Time is finite. And it scares the hell out of me that you might disappear and leave me with this feeling. I don’t want disappointment to be my default memory. I don’t want regrets. I want to live, and I want to do that with you by my side.”

  A fish splashes in the shallow water. Crickets sing under the dark cover of trees. The moon hides behind clouds, and the stars stop twinkling.

  “I have a problem, Princess.” He pulls me closer to him, lets go of my hand, but only because he wants to hug me tight.

  “What problem? What is it?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  And then we share a knowing glance. He’s not going to tell me. He’s never going to say those words. And he’s afraid.

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen Five Aston afraid of anything.

  So I don’t push him. Maybe I don’t want to hear the truth after all. Maybe—

  His hands cup mine as he turns. He kisses me. And I don’t even know how to describe this kiss. It isn’t passionate, it isn’t erotic, it isn’t innocent. It isn’t any of those things at all.