I glanced around the room, expelling a sigh. I needed to clean my mess before eating anything.
Standing, I surveyed Mother and Buddy’s smiling faces.
This is what I had wanted.
I could belong here now.
We would be a perfect family. The only thing missing was a dog. Until I found the right one, it could just be the three of us.
Mother, Me, and…Buddy.
“No, that's not right,” I refuted aloud.
Tapping my pointer finger against my chin, I scanned over them again with a critical eye.
Something wasn’t right.
What was perfection just minutes ago suddenly seemed flawed.
Had I made a mistake?
I went to Mother’s body and traced over the thread I’d woven through her eyelids. The flare of joy I’d felt when she first looked at me was gone.
I didn’t understand.
Reclaiming my spot on the floor, I sat in the living room with Mother and Buddy, toying with the ends of my hair, wondering what to do next.
“What do you two think?”
Neither answered, they just continued to smile.
No solution came to mind. I was too tired. My brain was mush. All it wanted to think of was food and rest.
I did know someone that could help me, though.
Shuffling forward, I began to search Mother’s pockets for her mobile phone, finding it in her bra.
I wiped my fingers’ on my sweater again, and then unlocked the screen the same way I’d seen Mother do a dozen times before.
Six grey boxes popped up, each saying she had a missed call from, Heath. All were time stamped within the past four hours.
I hadn’t heard her phone make a single sound.
I tapped his name and reconnected the line, toying with the hem of my shirt when it began to ring.
Mother really wouldn’t like this.
He might be upset, too. I had promised I’d be a good girl.
Mid-ring his voice came on, going into a colorful rant before I could get a word out.
Of course, he would have never expected me to be the one calling. Mother didn’t allow me use of her phone.
“Daddy.”
He sucked in a breath, whatever he was saying abruptly stopped.
“Helena?”
“I did something bad again.”
Chapter Three
Declan
This is what my Saturday nights had dissolved to.
Perhaps I should have pursued a white collar job after all. At least then I could be in a high rise drinking my boredom away instead of the goddamn Tipsy Tap.
“Soooo,” Macy drawled out, popping her glossy lips into a pucker on the last o. “What is it you two do?”
“We’re therapist.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet.” Her friend, Chelsea, cooed.
Ethan’s brown eyes met mine from across the table as he hid a laugh behind a swallow of beer.
I looked to the ceiling and asked for patience.
They were on us like flies to shit the moment we walked in the bar. That was hours ago. The fact the girl was just now asking us these basic questions said more about her than she knew.
“And you’re both single?” Macy questioned, dropping her elbows down onto the table and leaning forward.
It was a move I’m positive she’d done a million times. Her breasts smashed together, practically popping out the top of her tank top. Red curls fell over them in a way that garnered even more attention.
Obviously I looked.
“Depends on your definition of the word,” Ethan answered, pulling my gaze back to him.
He subtly gestured to Macy and me, raising his brows as if to ask, “You want that tonight?”
I smirked and took a sip of my drink. What I wanted was standing right across from me, filling his suit out like it was a second skin. But if he wanted to play tonight, I’d indulge him.
I conveyed all of this through my own discreet gestures.
“Do you have girlfriends?” Chelsea interrupted our silent conversation, attempting to clarify, thinking we’d somehow misunderstood the question.
I could have told her that, no, there wasn’t a woman in our lives at the moment, but the man she was nearly drooling over had been my bottom off and on since high-school. And while we hadn’t sat down to discuss a title; he had been living with me for the past four months.
So were we single?
Not entirely.
I didn’t want to say our relationship was complex, but it sure as hell wasn’t simple either.
We were an incomplete recipe of decadence—a three-layered rainbow cake missing its center. I was the top layer; lemon flavored because I was damn delicious. Ethan was the bottom layer, sweet strawberry.
The middle would be vanilla, which was a simple flavor, but also the most important. The center tied it all together, bridged a gap, made us whole.
There was no way to enjoy a cake that wasn’t fully finished. You couldn’t even add the icing, and who the fuck ate cake without Buttercream?
Alas, we’d never found the missing ingredient, which brought us to places like my Uncle’s bar, the Tipsy Tap.
With our workplace undergoing its final renovations, it also meant entertaining women that pretended to be drunk after sipping on A Bellinis.
“Well—.”
I tossed back the rest of my bourbon, and then slammed the glass down, effectively stopping Ethan from answering.
I’d had enough of this bullshit.
“Does it honestly matter if we’re single or not when you’ve been thinking of our dicks inside your pussies for the last three hours? We could be married, and the two of you would still happily spread your legs. I know your type. You’ve done this countless times before.”
Macy’s eyes narrowed as if she were offended.
Chelsea at least had the nerve to look a little embarrassed about me hitting the nail on the head.
“You’re an asshole,” Macy hissed.
“I know, sweetheart.” I flashed a bright smile and tossed some money onto the table.
Uncle Porter told me I never had to pay; I always did anyway. It seemed a meager trade-off considering the system he ran in this town to keep our real family business running smoothly.
“Are you staying?” I asked Ethan, ignoring Macy now altogether.
“Nope.” He chugged the rest of his beer, placing the empty bottle beside my glass before he pushed away from the table. “We’re in room eight,” he told the girls on our way out.
A few of the other people in the bar watched us walk out, having heard every word I’d just said.
No one uttered a word as we were leaving, though. They didn’t have the balls to. Not a single resident of Redwood would risk pissing off an Andreou.
“Feel better?” Ethan asked the second our shoes’ hit the sidewalk in front of the bar.
“Much.” And I did. The crisp night air and his companionship were preferable to anything else right then.
Usually, I was just as laid back and playful as he was. But I’d been irritable about everything lately. I couldn’t even say why, and that only irritated me more.
Of course, Ethan knew me well enough to pick up on this. He didn’t outright bring it up, that wasn’t how we worked. He simply did his best not to let me stew in my thoughts alone.
“That was a great speech by the way.”
I lifted my shoulders’ in a shrug. “Wasn’t it? I covered all the basics and ensured you’d be getting pussy tonight.”
“Yeah, it was always your eloquent way with words that made me like you.”
“Wow. This whole time I thought it was because of my pretty face and giant dick.”
“You really are an asshole,” he laughed, shoving my arm with his hand.
“So are you. You just pretend to be the good guy.” I grinned.
We walked a little further, crossing the empty street in silence.
Redwood was too smal
l of a town to drive to your every destination. Our motel was an exact seven-minute walk from the Tipsy Tap.
A slight breeze blew, sending the fragrance of his Topkapi cologne into my nose.
Something about it mixing in with the scent of my Clive was comforting.
His cell buzzed just when we reached the edge of our motel’s parking lot. He pulled it from his pocket, preoccupying himself with whatever the notification was.
The bright light from his screen, cast a shadow across his features.
He truly was a fine fucking specimen. His eyes were the color of a shiny penny, hair a darker shade of cinnamon.
Our tanned skin and height of six-two was parallel, and really the only similarities we shared appearance wise.
My hair was midnight black, eyes an unmatched hue of silver.
I tended to be clean shaven, occasionally sporting some stubble whereas Ethan always had a goatee.
I wasn’t as muscular as him either. He worked out vigorously to maintain an eight-pack, while I was comfortable with a well-defined six.
We aligned perfectly in every way that mattered, especially when it came to our profession.
“That was, Mason,” Ethan announced, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “He’ll meet us back at Dahlia in the morning.”
“Ever the workaholic,” I mused.
He and Katie weren’t supposed to be back from their ‘baby-moon’ for another three days.
His early return was welcome news. My cousin and I were the equivalent of Rocky and Bullwinkle.
The Château wasn’t the same without him, and I didn’t like the idea of Katie being so far away from Riverview when she was due in eight weeks or less. That was actually more likely the reason for their early return.
I pulled out our room’s key once we neared where I’d parked my car.
Only three other patrons were at the motel, all their curtains drawn tight.
Back in our room, not five minutes later, I was sitting on the end of one of the beds debating if I wanted to remove my shoes when the knock came.
Ethan turned away from the sink, mumbling something around the toothbrush dangling between his teeth as he headed for the door.
We both already knew who it was, but he checked the peephole beforehand anyway.
Then, he poked his head beneath the curtain so he could look out the window.
He popped the toothbrush out of his mouth and stepped closer to the door. “Who is it?”
“Yet I’m the asshole?” I laughed, shrugging out of my suit jacket.
“Um…Macy and Chelsea,” a timid voice replied.
“I told you they’d be coming,” I said, now undoing the buttons on my shirt.
“You sure you up for this?” he asked, not making any attempt to open the door.
“They’re two college girls passing through. It’s all too simple not to do. Besides, we still have a few days before the Dahlia reopens, let em in.”
“Okay then.” He undid both locks and swung the door open.
Beneath his arm, I made out the two girls.
They were nervous.
That was good.
It would make what was about to happen more entertaining.
“Come on in.” Ethan dropped the arm barring their entry, and they stepped inside.
He repositioned the locks, grabbed Chelsea by the hand, and then walked back in the direction of the sink.
She glanced over her shoulder at Macy but didn’t protest the abruptness of his move.
“Take everything off and wait for me on the bed,” he told her before resuming the brushing of his teeth.
Besides a split second hesitation, she was quick to do what he said, which slightly surprised me. I thought Macy was the more daring of the two.
Regardless, Chelsea seemed to know exactly what she came to this room for.
I loved a woman who got straight down to business. What was the point in procrastinating around the inevitable?
I watched her strip down, admiring her body for a few seconds. Her tits were decent, a B, maybe. And she didn’t shave. The dark curls between her legs matched the ones on her head.
She plopped down on the bed, smiling at me.
I looked over at Macy and quirked a brow. “Are you just going to stand there?”
“I didn’t know what you wanted me to do.” She grinned seductively and made her way towards me.
I kept my full attention on her while listening to what Ethan was doing on the other side of the room.
He rinsed his mouth and shut the sink off. The jingle of his belt buckle hitting the floor followed.
“Why did you come here?” I asked Macy when she was in front of me.
“For you, of course,” she purred, wedging herself between my legs.
“No.” I shook my head and brought my hands up to grip her curvy waist. “You didn’t come here for me. You came here for my dick.”
“That too,” she began to giggle, stopping short when Chelsea let out a small squeal.
Macy’s attention went straight to her friend, her lower lip slightly parted from the top. I followed her gaze, seeing Ethan’s face between her friend’s thighs, already tongue deep in pussy.
He had her legs spread wide open, giving us a full view of what he was doing.
Chelsea’s face was a contradiction of uncertainty and arousal. My rapidly hardening dick twitched in approval.
Macy must have been feeling outdone.
She turned back to me and dropped to her knees, hands flying to my belt, undoing it in record time.
My erection sprang free, pulsing and ready for the mouth hovering above it.
I watched her lick lips, part them, and begin to lower before taking control. I fisted her red curls and shoved her down, driving my dick into the back of her throat.
She coughed, gagging as I pulled her off, repeating the motion. But she didn’t object. Her tongue worked to keep up with my movements.
I bobbed her head up in down to the tune of Chelsea’s moans as they grew louder in volume.
She attempted to do it on her. I allowed the freedom for all of two minutes, quickly realizing sucking dick was not her strongest skill set.
Her upper teeth grazed my sensitive skin a bit too hard to be considered pleasurable. I could inflict pain on my dick without help if that’s what I was in the mood for.
I knew at that very moment I wasn’t going to be fucking her.
Turning to look at Ethan, I found his eyes on me, staying that way as he forced Chelsea into doggy style.
He gripped her waist and drove inside her pussy, eliciting a scream of pleasure and pain to fall from her mouth.
Macy slurped away between my knees, moaning exaggeratedly like my cock was the best damn thing she’d ever tasted. Then again, it probably was.
My focus was solely on Ethan and his on mine.
His pace was rapid, Chelsea’s pussy made squelching noises as he thrust in and out.
My dick hardened even further. It had nothing to do with either of the girls and everything to do with Ethan.
I slightly nodded my head, letting him know it was time for them to go.
He picked up his ministrations, wrapping one hand around Chelsea’s throat.
Placing one palm on the back of Macy’s head, I forced her to stay as she was and reached into my pocket, slowly removing the small blade I’d been carrying specifically for this purpose.
I flipped it between my fingers, waiting for Chelsea to hit her peak. The second she did, her crescendo of pleasure quickly fell to a gurgle.
My hand dropped to my side, allowing Macy to rear her head up and see what was going on.
With my dick gripped in her hand, saliva rolling down to my balls, I watched her eyes go wide, taking in the sight of Chelsea’s blood spraying all over the bedspread opposite us.
I didn’t give her time to scream.
I gripped my blade and forced her head to the side, effortlessly slicing into smooth, unmarred fles
h, hitting her jugular.
She let my dick go and grabbed for her throat, falling backward and landing at an odd angle.
One hand pathetically reached out for me. I knocked it away and wiped her blood on my pants. There wasn’t a rush with this kill. But that wasn’t exactly why I did it in the first place.
I looked away from Macy just as Ethan let Chelsea’s body drop to the comforter, her own throat slit from side to side.
The girls became nothing but part of the rooms décor when he stalked towards me, completely nude. Crimson was splattered on the tattoos across his chest. Chelsea’s juices glistened on his cock.
“Let me take care of that,” he gestured to my still hard dick.
I spread my legs wider, wordlessly allowing him to take Macy’s place.
The sensation of his mouth on me was ten times more gratifying than the bitch slowly choking on her own blood.
Ethan knew how to work me just the right way. His large hands cupped my damp balls, massaging and tugging just hard enough to make me moan.
He took every inch of me down his throat with no problem, humming in appreciation when I began caressing the top of his head.
His bronze eyes looked into mine, causing a warmth to spread through my chest. I’d known him for seventeen years, and still, his eyes got me every damn time.
The four years he’d been gone from my life to travel around floated to the forefront of my mind. We’d never discussed what we’d done in each other’s absence. Not explicitly.
I couldn’t help but wonder how many men he’d knelt in front of just like this.
Did he look at them with adoration too?
My fingers tightened in his hair. He groaned in response, sucking me harder.
How many women did he sink his balls into trying to find what we were both missing?
They would have come for him like Chelsea did, probably screaming his name.
“Get up,” I commanded, tearing his mouth away from me.
His brows slanted as he picked up on my mood. It wasn’t something I particularly wanted to discuss. I was a possessive asshole; he knew that.
To save us both from such conversation, I stood up and pulled him into me, crushing my mouth to his.
The taste of my pre-cum, and mint toothpaste hit my tongue as it tangled with his.
DEPRAVITY: Love Depraved Page 2