SIR

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SIR Page 11

by R. J. Lewis


  “He’s at the river?”

  “More like in the river.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, in his briefs again.”

  Ana laughs. “What the hell is going on over there?”

  His head whips in my direction, and I cringe so hard, I want to die right there. Of course he can see me. I’m wider than the tree, my head is poking out and I’m looking right at him.

  Someone fucking kill me.

  I groan deep in my chest.

  “He just saw you, didn’t he?” Ana cackles. “You Peeping Tom.”

  “Shut up!” I turn around and hurry up the hill and away from him. He took my favorite spot to be an emo in private.

  A whistle sounds out, disrupting my humiliation.

  I spin around and watch him as he moves to the shallower end of the river. He’s staring right at me, smirking. “Don’t run, Turbo,” he calls out.

  “I’m not running!” I shout back.

  “Come join me!”

  “I’d rather not!”

  “Come on,” he urges. “I won’t bite.”

  Ana laughs in my ear, no doubt overhearing our exchange. “I would go to him, Ivy.”

  “I don’t want to,” I hiss at her.

  “Why?”

  “Because…”

  Because the more I look at Alex’s cheeky expression, the more I’m reminded of his older brother, and it’s making the pain intensify. No one told me he was Aidan’s fucking doppelganger in both looks and personality.

  “He was sweet to you,” she tells me. “Get to know him, maybe confide in him. You need a friend right now.”

  “You’re my friend.”

  “And I’m on the other side of the country. You need someone to be there for you, Ivy, because you’re already falling apart.”

  “I’m not,” I argue.

  “You are.”

  I pinch my lips together, sighing. “Fine.”

  She’s right. I need a friend, especially after today.

  “Let me know everything that goes down.”

  I assure her I will right before getting off the phone with her. I take my time making my way down to the river, hyperaware of Alex’s presence. He’s already out of the water and sitting on a large rock, motioning me over with his chin. I take a seat on the rock over, careful not to stare at him much.

  He looks amused, peering at me as I fold my hands into my lap. “What is it with you scuttling—”

  “I’m not,” I interrupt straight away. “And for the love of god, stop using that word.”

  “Is it my underwear that has you running the other way?”

  I shoot him a look. “No! If anything, I’m used to the West boys walking around in their briefs.”

  He grins. “Bumped into Aidan in the night, I take it.”

  “He came to my door, actually.”

  His grin wavers as he watches me closely. “When was this?”

  “Last night.”

  “What happened?”

  “He wanted to do an inspection of my suite at two in the morning.”

  Alex chuckles but it’s weak. “You slept with him.”

  My jaw drops as I flash him a glare. “I did not sleep with him.” Now I cast a bitter look at the streaming water. “Why would I, anyway? I was just prey to him, just fodder for his ego.” I bend down and take a handful of rocks, feeling surprisingly acrimonious. I throw a rock in as hard as I can. “Thanks for assuming I put out, though.”

  Alex watches me closely. “I meant no offense.”

  I stew in silence and the space between us fills with tension.

  Finally, he says, “Good thing you resisted, Ivy. He is used to playing with his toys.”

  “I am not a toy.”

  “He didn’t know that.” Now Alex’s eyes soften. “You proved him wrong.”

  Unable to hold back, I huff. “Work was shit today.”

  “He was an asshole then.”

  “He could have been worse, but I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, and even between the utter rubbish he makes us do, there’s no time to…”

  “To what?”

  I shrug, weakly. “Reconnect.”

  “Yeah,” he agrees with understanding. “You’ll find him putting up a wall anytime you try to.”

  I look at him, studying him. “Have you tried to?”

  He doesn’t respond for some time, but he’s got a faraway look about him. “What’s the point?” he finally says. “He doesn’t remember his apology, and anyway, I’m not here for him. I’m here for you.” His eyes meet mine and he stares at me for a heavy moment. “You are incredibly selfless to drop your life and do this.”

  Emotion builds behind my eyes. “I feel responsible.”

  He shakes his head slightly. “You shouldn’t. He got behind the wheel of that car. He went back to what he promised he’d never do, and that was after his change. And he’ll keep doing it.”

  “I don’t want to believe that,” I whisper.

  “Well, I hope I’m wrong.”

  “Did you know he remembers little things?” I ask him then.

  “Like what?”

  “Passwords and such. He plugged it into his computer today. So that stuck, and…I’m wondering if anything else will come back to him.”

  He doesn’t answer straight away, mulling it over. “Maybe it’ll hit him.”

  I give him a hopeful look. “You think?”

  He shrugs, appearing sympathetic as he glances at me. “I think it doesn’t hurt what you’re doing. Well, I’m sure it’s hurting you—that’s not how I meant it—but…it’s not hurting the situation you being here.”

  I get what he’s trying to say. “My friend Ana seems to think I should just tell him everything.”

  He purses his lips. “It’s a gamble.”

  “He might not believe me?”

  Now the look he gives me is pity. “It’s not that. It’s more…I’m not sure he’d want to be close to someone.”

  I nod slowly. “He might push me away.”

  He shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe. It’s hard to say. He’s exactly the way he used to be minus being wild and reckless, and…well, think of it like this. How different are you to the person you were a few years ago?”

  I let out a cold laugh. “I was unrecognizable.”

  I never really put much thought into it actually. A few years ago I was married to Derek, hadn’t fallen pregnant, and was a party animal. If someone suddenly told me I wouldn’t be any of those things anymore…Well, I’d have a hard time accepting it, and I certainly had too much fun at the time to want to change things.

  “I would have pushed back,” I admit. “It would be too scary to think of a different version of myself. I would have…wanted to naturally fall into it.”

  I needed to divorce Derek—I needed to experience my loss to become who I am today.

  Wow, what a realization.

  We sit for a long while, until the stars blanket the sky and the mosquitoes have eaten half my leg. Then I shoot Alex a curious look. “Steven should have mentioned you.”

  He smirks. “I told him I’d break it to you my own way. Better to do it in person than for you to hear about the playboy brother supposedly wanting to look out for you.”

  I chew on my lip to stop from smiling. “I guess you have a point.”

  He looks amused, his brown eyes twinkling now as he looks right at me. He holds an intense stare. The kind you can feel under your skin, heating your blood.

  These West boys are dangerous.

  There’s a charm about them, the kind you can’t describe, the kind you wouldn’t believe existed until you were met with that gaze.

  It was Aidan’s gaze on that plane—the searing wanting gaze as he looked me over like I was the center of his world—that ensnared me.

  Alex is giving me a similar gaze, but one filled with intrigue.

  He’s curious about me, too.

  “But there is a difference between you and me,” I add n
ow, as I throw another rock in the river.

  “What’s that?” he wonders.

  “I didn’t look you up online.”

  “And I did?”

  I give him a cool look. “Aidan told me you mentioned our pictures online once—”

  He laughs, cutting me off. “Excuse me for being curious why my brother was suddenly chasing after me, wanting to develop a bond.”

  “Because you were running off the rails.”

  He looks at me incredulously. “First of all, I’m not twelve, Ivy. I’m a grown man—a learned man, in fact—”

  “Learned in what?”

  “I got my Masters, thank you very much—”

  “No way.”

  “Yes fucking way.”

  “In what?”

  “I completed my Masters Program in Business Management—”

  I guffawed. “And I’m a donkey’s uncle.”

  “A very beautiful donkey’s uncle.”

  I look away from his growing smirk. “You’re too young to have a Masters in anything.”

  He grimaces. “Just how old do you think I am?” When I don’t respond, he adds, “FYI, Turbo, we’re closer in age, you and I, than you are to Aidan. Think on that.”

  I chew the inside of my lip. “I suppose.”

  “And what of my recklessness were you informed about?” he continues, dropping his head to look at me closely. “I did everything by the book, you know. I home-schooled, finished high school when I was sixteen, got into Uni on a full scholarship I earned completely off my own back, breezed through my degree, all before I even thought about sticking my cock in a living, breathing thing.”

  My eyes widen as I stare at him in shock.

  His tone is light, still amused, but his face is tighter. “And when I finally did, I got a taste for it, like any healthy person with a new sexual appetite might. My grandmother was dismayed, convinced I was going to lose myself in pussy—”

  “Language,” I scold.

  His chest rumbles with laughter. “You first.”

  He’s got a point.

  I press a hand to my chest, feeling the urge to defend myself. “Look, I was an innocent bystander, Alex. I simply heard you were prancing about the country, brooding and difficult to get ahold of—”

  “I was travelling,” he swiftly says, rolling his eyes. “On my own fucking dime, which she couldn’t stand. I wasn’t brooding, either. I was enjoying my freedom my own way, and still do. I don’t touch my brother’s empire of money, I’m building my own from the ground up, and she felt I was too vulnerable, too infantile to be set loose in the real world.”

  “Why would she think that way?”

  “Because of everything.” That’s his explanation. So ridiculously lacking of any detail at all, but I sense immediately what he won’t admit out loud.

  Like his older brother, his childhood was filled with adversity.

  Ruth became protective.

  And Aidan…Aidan was not always there for him.

  “I’m not so bad,” he says now, his voice low as he regards me. “I was becoming myself after all the bullshit I knew growing up. Come on, you know what that’s like. You’re not like these people.” He gestures to the forest in the direction of the house where everyone’s at.

  “People born to privilege, you mean?”

  “People born to warmth.”

  Ah.

  I don’t say anything, but I stare warmly at him, getting it. He wanted to enjoy himself, needed to be away from Ruth and Aidan and whatever shields they’d put up to protect him. It makes sense.

  “I get it,” I say quietly on a nod.

  “You do?”

  I kick a few rocks. “It takes courage to step out of everything you know and forge your own way.”

  When he doesn’t immediately respond, I look at him. He’s staring at the water, eyes distant. He even has Aidan’s fucking profile. I swallow a groan as my skin prickles once more.

  These guys are fucking beautiful.

  The silence that ensues this time isn’t broken by me.

  It isn’t broken at all.

  We sit side-by-side, watching the stream, each buried in our own thoughts.

  *

  We walk back to the house in amiable silence, bumping into people along the way. It’s not as packed as it was earlier. We’ve stayed out longer than usual. It must be close to midnight.

  Alex calls it a night and climbs up the stairs to his room just as I turn to head for my suite. I’m making my way to the kitchen when a body bumps aggressively into mine. I spin around, eyes locked to Nina’s. She glares back at me, looking scarily pissed.

  “You,” she seethes. “Everything went to shit when you came around. You trailer trash whore.”

  Whoa. My eyes bulge in surprise. “Excuse my fucking French, bitch, but you better get out of my face before I punch you out.”

  She doesn’t pretend to be dismayed by my threat. Why would she? No one’s around to witness her play the victim. Instead, her body inches closer to mine, and my hands curl into fists because I think she very well might want to throw down with me. Adrenaline surges through me, but she stops herself from coming closer, telling me instead, “Have fun with that doped out headcase. He might throw a fit any second. Asshole’s forgotten what it’s like to get high. Enjoy your stay, Ivy.” She scoffs, shaking her head as she backs away, muttering, “What the fuck kind of name is that, anyway?”

  She storms off, and it’s then I see her lugging something behind her.

  A suitcase.

  Holy shit, she’s leaving.

  I can’t help the satisfaction I feel. He turned her out this late at night which means…I think shit went down. Then I run her words through my mind.

  Asshole’s forgotten what it’s like to get high.

  My heart sinks to my stomach.

  Oh, no.

  I hurry in the opposite direction and race up the stairs. The rooms up here have been cleared out, and I look around, searching for him. The light in the corridor is off as I walk down it, knowing very well I’m moving to his bedroom because where else could he be this late at night after everyone has left?

  I hover outside his room, hesitating for a few moments, but I know I must go in. I have to check on him, see if he’s okay. Steven warned me that if he was high, he could be volatile. I’m desperately hoping Nina is wrong.

  I twist the knob and push it open. It swings slowly, and I take a deep breath before stepping into the dark room. My eyes immediately search the bed, but it’s still made and untouched. A cool breeze hits me, and I follow it to the opened balcony door. I quickly scan the room on my way to it, but it’s pitched black and quiet. When I reach the door, I glance out, and the balcony is empty.

  “She gave me something,” his voice sounds out from behind me.

  I whip around and search the room again. When I find him, I wonder how the hell I missed him. He’s sitting in the chair beside the bed, his large body nearly swallowing it whole. He’s still in his suit pants, but his shirt is unbuttoned all the way, revealing his tattooed chest.

  “Who?” I whisper, but it immediately occurs to me who he’s referring to. “You mean Nina.”

  He nods once. “The room is spinning, and I’m…fucking flying right now.”

  Shit.

  He is high.

  But he’s not pacing or looking angry. He’s just sitting there, face vacant as his eyes slowly drag to me.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks quietly.

  “I needed to see if you were okay—”

  He stands up, cutting me off. My body tightens as he walks over to me. I eye him closely, feeling the hairs on my body rise because…he’s not his usual self. You can see it from a mile away. His movements are heavy, his aura almost…predatory as his eyes lock on mine. I don’t move—I should move, shouldn’t I? But my body stands perfectly still as he stops before me, making me feel incredibly small.

  “I was thinking about you,” he murmurs th
en, and before I can respond, his arm wraps around my waist and he tugs me to him in one quick move. My front presses against his. I hold my breath, looking up at him with wide eyes as he peers down at me. “I was thinking about your hair…” I feel his fingers run through my hair. He grips a few strands, his attention now drawn to it. “I’ve seen hair like this before…”

  My body heats as he raises my hair to his face and trails it around his lips, inhaling it slowly. I swallow hard, wordlessly watching him as he looks back at me, eyes heavier than before.

  “You’re nice to look at.” He moves forward and I move along with him, still wrapped tightly to him. I stare at him, hardly able to draw a breath in as he drops his face to my neck and runs his nose along my skin.

  Aidan…Aidan is not himself.

  And this drug… is a happy one.

  “You smell good, too,” he whispers hoarsely.

  He stops moving. I feel his solid arm and a wall at my back. His entire body—so big under that suit, I’m swallowed whole—is pressed against the length of me. Before I can make sense of this, I feel the wet slide of his tongue along my throat, and this time I can’t hold back my body’s reaction. I tremble, lust pooling at the pit of my stomach, like he’s hit a button to set me off. My eyes slam shut as he drags that tongue along my jaw, his soft lips closing around my skin in light kisses.

  Holy fuck.

  “And you taste like a fucking dream.”

  His large hand drops down to my still damp leg. He runs it down the back of my thigh, leaving goosebumps behind. He lifts it—I let him, heaven help me, I can’t pull away. He hooks my leg around his hip and presses himself between my legs, his breaths—and mine—coming out harder as he lightly rubs himself along my core. I bite my lip, holding my breath to stop myself from groaning.

  “Wh—what are you doing?” I stammer out, feeling pulses grow between my legs as he continues to lightly press against it.

  “I’m touching you,” he responds, his voice low. “Unless you tell me to stop…”

  I should.

  I really should.

  But this feels ridiculously good.

  I haven’t touched him back this entire time. I’m feeling the urge to. I’d run my hands through his hair, tug on it, maybe bring his lips to mine in a soul shattering kiss. I’d run my hand over his cock, see how hard he is, might even pull it out—

 

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