by Callie Rose
The pool house is quiet, just the soft sound of our breathing and the water lapping against the edge of the pool filling the high-ceilinged space.
Everything about River’s kiss is different than Lincoln’s—the taste of him, the feel and shape of his lips, the patterns his tongue moves in. One isn’t better than the other, but the contrast between the two boys is striking, and it stokes a fire low in my belly.
Lincoln’s hands are sliding over every wet inch of my skin he can reach, and the sound of my breathing bounces off the walls as it grows sharper and louder.
Just when I think I might drown in River’s kiss, fingertips grasp my chin, turning my head away from the brown-haired boy. Dax grins at me before his gaze drops to my lips.
I haven’t kissed him yet. I’ve felt his lips on me, but I’ve never pressed mine against his.
No time like the present to fucking fix that.
Not giving myself time to freak out or chicken out, I lift my head, craning my neck a little to reach for him. River’s focus shifts to my chest, his mouth roaming over the wet skin beneath my collarbone, as Dax kisses me.
His lips are different too.
His taste is different.
It’s different than Chase even, despite how similar the twins are.
And it’s hot as hell.
“Fuck, Harlow,” Lincoln mutters behind me, sliding his fingers around to my front and dipping them beneath the soft fabric of my bra. When he catches my nipple between two fingers and pinches gently, I buck in their hold, gasping into Dax’s mouth.
Oh fucking Jesus.
The boy with the copper mane must like my reaction, because his kiss deepens, becoming hotter and more demanding.
When Dax and I finally break apart, I don’t even hesitate before turning to Chase. He doesn’t hesitate either, and before I know it, we’re making out hard while four sets of hands continue to roam over my body.
River’s hands brush the top of my panties, slipping two fingers just beneath the waistband of the fabric, but he doesn’t delve any lower than that.
That touch though, that tease, is enough to make my clit throb so hard I think I might come anyway. I’m overloading on sensations, my body and mind unable to keep up with the onslaught. My hands start roaming too, sliding down River’s cut abs, gliding over Chase’s arm and shoulder, covering Dax’s as he cups my breast, reaching behind me to shamelessly grope Linc’s ass.
I’m passed around the circle one more time, and it feels like being wrapped in a cocoon of warm bodies and hard muscle, of full lips and hot breath.
When I finally spin to face Lincoln again, his eyes burn like embers. But instead of taking things further, he kisses me once and then takes two small steps back, breaking the tight circle that contained me. The others do the same, and the water feels instantly colder without the press of their bodies around me.
Banked heat and amusement flicker in his hypnotic eyes as he lifts an eyebrow. “So, how do you like swimming?”
So many sensations are still crashing around inside me, echoes of their touch, that it’s a little hard to speak. But I clear my throat, pulling myself back together as I glance from him to the other three.
“It’s… I like it. A lot.”
“Good.”
He grins, as if he was pretty sure that would be my answer. Then he turns and kicks through the water, moving along the length of the pool with the grace and ease of a fish.
The heavy tension in the air dissipates a little, and we all break apart slowly. River turns to follow Linc’s lead, and with one more glance at me, so do the twins. I linger for a bit longer, trying to both recover from this moment and preserve everything about it in my memory.
When I finally join them, the five of us swim lazy laps in the pool for a while, talking about stupid bullshit and occasionally splashing water at each other as we pass. I glance downward once or twice, though I’m careful not to get caught staring like last time.
They all got hard as we explored each other—I could feel it— and that knowledge sends a rush of heat and something almost like pride through me. I’m still so worked up from their touch I can feel slickness in the crotch of my panties that has nothing to do with the pool water.
I wish we’d taken things a little further, even though I know it was a good call to stop. Not only are Lincoln’s parents in the house, but the three other boys’ parents are here too. It would not be a great time to get caught fooling around in the pool house.
When my fingertips start to get pruny, we climb out of the water and lounge on the large padded chairs, letting our underwear dry a little. We don’t talk about my mom or the man in the ski mask at all, and even though it sometimes feels like any moment we’re not talking about those things is a waste, I let it go for tonight. I’m going to have to tell Linc my suspicions soon, but I don’t want to ruin this moment.
After another hour, the guys put their tailored suits and tuxes back on and rejoin the party. I pull my dress over my head and sneak into the kitchen one more time to steal some leftover canapés, then head up to my room and wash the chlorine out of my hair before slipping into a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top.
None of us talked about what happened between us, about that moment we all shared in the pool, for the rest of the night.
But when Lincoln knocks on my door after midnight and crawls into bed with me, I know he’s thinking about it.
I am too.
We tear at each other’s clothes, our first fuck so hot and desperate that it’s over in just a few minutes. Barely pausing to catch our breath, we do it again. And again.
He worships my body until the first hint of dawn begins to lighten the sky outside, and we fall asleep in a sweaty tangle of limbs.
And for once, I don’t dream of dead bodies and dark figures, or of the man who’s toying with my mom like she’s a pawn on a chess board.
Instead, I dream of four striking sets of eyes.
Sky-gray, blue, green, and amber.
15
“My preliminary hearing is set for next week.”
Mom doesn’t sound hopeful as she says those words, and I don’t blame her.
The odds of the judge dismissing this case are so slim they’re practically non-existent. Mom doesn’t have an alibi for the window of time in which Iris was murdered, and Iris’s DNA has been found on her car—I don’t know what else the state’s attorney has on her, but that alone is enough to make anyone suspicious.
“Are you ready?” I ask softly, scooting closer to the glass pane that separates us.
“I hope so.” She gives me a wan smile, but it slips off her face immediately. “Low, I had to switch to a court-appointed lawyer. Leda was great, but I just couldn’t afford her. She got us off to a really good start though, and my new lawyer seems okay so far. He said he’ll use everything she’s established and build on it, and we’ll present the best case we can.”
My heart freezes in my chest. One of the only things that’s been helping me sleep at night is knowing my mom has the best representation out there.
Or, had.
“How much was she? Maybe I can help pay for it. I can—”
“No.” Mom shakes her head, her voice firm. She only uses that tone when she’s dead serious about something. “I’m not having you get behind in your classes or miss school just so you can help me afford a lawyer. That’s why they have court-appointed ones—for the people who can’t afford one.”
I bite down on my cheek so hard I taste blood, frustration burning through me like a lick of fire. I know Mom doesn’t want me to give up my life to help her, but it’s not fucking fair. She gave up so much of hers to help me.
Maybe I could win some cash playing poker, but unlike when mom was working too and I just slipped it into her bank account under the radar, now that she’s in prison and her funds are dwindling, she’d definitely notice the extra money and want to know where it came from.
I’d honestly be willing to risk her ang
er and disappointment… if I was sure I’d win. But I’m so fucked up in the head right now, I know I’d be off my game, and I can’t risk losing money she needs.
Which leaves me in the same position I’ve been in for the past three weeks—as a helpless witness to my mom’s destruction.
“Is there anything I can do?” I plead.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” She runs a hand through her hair, which looks limp and dull, as if her entire body is worn down from the stress. “Just keep coming to see me. That helps.”
It helps me too. But it’s not enough. There has to be something else I can do.
There is, a voice whispers in the back of my head. Prove it was someone else.
“Hey, Mom…” I glance over my shoulder casually. The guard behind me looks bored as hell, and Lincoln’s waiting outside, so I don’t know who I thought might be eavesdropping. Turning back to face the glass, I ask the question that’s been eating at me for days. “Did Mr. Black ever make a pass at you?”
Her eyebrows shoot up. As far as she’s concerned, this is an abrupt subject change out of left field—which means she has no suspicion that Samuel Black set her up. And why would she? He’s gone out of his way to make it seem like he’s helping her, like he’s on her side.
“No!” She scoffs, but almost as soon as the word is out of her mouth, she purses her lips like she’s reconsidering her answer. “Well, he’s always been a little extra friendly. Happy to have company. But that’s all. I think he’s just lonely. Audrey isn’t the most…” She waves her hand as she tries to think of the word.
Human?
Fully conscious?
She gives up on trying to find the perfect word to describe Linc’s mother and shakes her head.
“He… I think he likes me. He likes to talk with me, and yeah, I’m pretty sure I caught him checking me out once. But he’s never made a move on me or anything. I wouldn’t have stayed if he had.”
I believe that. My mom isn’t the type to be the other woman or to break up a marriage, even if it’s on the rocks already.
What I’m not so sure of, however, is her assessment of Mr. Black’s character. And her claim that he only checked her out once. Maybe she only noticed once, but that’s because Mom is utterly oblivious to those kinds of things most of the time.
Still, it’s a relief to know he wasn’t going after her hard. That he didn’t try to force her or coerce her or anything.
“When you guys talked, did he ever mention… anyone else? Anyone who wasn’t Audrey?”
We’re veering into very weird territory, and judging from the lift of Mom’s eyebrows, she knows it. I’m wondering if Samuel Black ever gave her any hint of his relationship with Iris, but I don’t want to come right out and say the dead girl’s name.
“Low…” Mom’s voice drops as she leans closer to the glass divide, worry pinching her brows together. “Did he ever make a pass at you?”
“No!” My denial is about as fervent as hers was.
Thank God, no.
In fact, up until last week, I kind of liked the guy. He could be a little too friendly, and I knew Linc had issues with him because of the philandering example he set. But I’d always felt like, those interpersonal issues aside, he was a basically decent human being.
Now?
I don’t fucking know anymore.
Mom’s regarding me suspiciously, her hand clutching the phone by her ear. And more to help her sleep at night than to defend Mr. Black’s integrity, I say, “Really, Mom. No. He never hit on me or anything. I just overheard him and Audrey having a fight the other day and was being nosy, that’s all.”
She relaxes a little, blowing out a breath. “Okay. God, I’d never forgive myself if I brought you into a house where a man…” She shakes her head, not even finishing the thought. Then she looks up at me, a hint of a spark lighting in her eyes. “Are you and Lincoln dating?”
“What?”
Now I’m the one caught flat-footed.
I normally don’t keep anything from my mom, but the way Linc and I started was so messed up, and there were so many parts of the picture I couldn’t fill in for her, that I never told her about it at all. And I definitely haven’t told her about what happened in the pool house last night.
“Samuel mentioned something about it.” She smiles. “I think it’s great. He’s cute. And I’m glad you have a shoulder to lean on right now.”
Then she reaches out with the phone and taps it against the glass, scowling. When she puts it back to her ear, she adds, “But these are the kinds of things a daughter should tell her mother. I know it’s weird talking like this”—she gestures around us, encompassing the correctional facility visiting area—“but we need to get used to it.”
There are words implicit in her statement that she doesn’t speak aloud.
We need to get used to it… because it might be this way for a long, long time.
Linc’s fingers thread through mine on the way back to the house, our joined hands resting on my lap. Music blares through the speakers, and little flurries of snow drift through the air outside the windshield. The cloudy sky is pure white, and although it’s still bright out, everything seems drab in this harsh, colorless light.
It all seems to match my mood too perfectly. I miss the buttery sunshine of Arizona.
When we reach the Black mansion and head in through the side door from the motor court, delicious smells are floating out from the kitchen. Gwen usually does a pretty elaborate meal on Sundays, and I think it’s the only night of the week the family always eats together. I never paid all that much attention to it because I was usually up in Mom’s apartment, sharing meals with her.
Mr. Black catches us before we reach the stairs, his usual beaming smile in place. It makes my skin crawl in a way it never used to.
“Ah! Just the two people I was looking for.” He turns to me, his smile melting into a look of sympathy and concern. “How is your mother?”
“She’s fine.”
I don’t mention the fact that she had to let her private lawyer go. I’m not telling him shit about my mom, not giving him anything else he can use against her.
His eyelids flicker slightly, like he can tell from my voice that I’m lying or hiding something. But I just gaze blandly back until he shakes his head and reaffixes his smile.
“I’m glad to hear that. Keeping her spirits up is so important. She’s lucky she has you.”
“What do you need, dad?” Lincoln asks, draping an arm possessively around my shoulders. He doesn’t seem to like his dad talking to me, and although our reasons might not be the same, I agree with him wholeheartedly.
“Well, I thought I’d ask Harlow if she’d like to join us for dinner.” The strands of silver hair at Samuel’s temples gleam as he inclines his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Gwen’s making lamb. I know it’s a little late to do the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing, but I thought since you two are dating now, we should all get to know each other a little better.”
I go still in Linc’s embrace. Fuck no, I don’t want to have dinner with Samuel Black. But I don’t know how to get out of it without making it awkward or suspicious, so when his gaze lands on me, I nod.
“Sure. I’d love that. Thanks for the invite.”
“Wonderful! I’ll tell Gwen to set an extra place at the table. We’ll eat at seven.”
He strides toward the kitchen, and Lincoln tilts his head to look down at me. “You don’t have to, Low. Those dinners are usually boring as fuck.”
“No, it’s okay.” My arm went around his waist when he draped his around my shoulders, and I grip him a little tighter before stepping back. “I didn’t know what I was gonna do for dinner anyway. I should study a little before we eat though.”
I press a quick kiss to his lips before escaping upstairs, but I can feel his gaze on my back as I hustle up the steps. He knows something is bothering me, and it’s only a matter of time before he demands to know what it is
.
We arrived back at the house at 3:30, so I do some serious studying for the next few hours. Finals are right around the corner, and I’m honestly not prepared for them.
At 6:30, I change into a nicer outfit—I’m not really sure what the protocol is for these things, but I want to look like I at least made an effort—and at a little before seven o’clock, I make my way downstairs.
The dining room is in the west wing of the house, separated from the grand foyer by a large, arched doorway. There’s a fireplace on one wall, and a mahogany table in the middle of the room.
I’m a few minutes early, and the only person in the room when I arrive is Audrey. She’s seated at one end of the table, and she looks up sharply as I enter. I’m so used to her movements being slow and languid, like there’s a half-second time delay between her brain and her body, that I blink.
Maybe I’m just imagining it, but her eyes look a little clearer than usual, more focused.
It often seems like Audrey Black isn’t quite all there, but tonight, she’s definitely here, and she’s definitely pissed.
Super.
Is she mad because I’m having dinner with them? Maybe she really didn’t know that Lincoln and I are sort of together until she saw us kiss last night before the party. I was shocked at how little Mr. Black seemed to care—maybe it’s asking too much for Linc’s mom to be okay with him dating the help too.
“Hello.” She gives me a curt nod.
“Um, hi.”
I smile awkwardly, hovering in the doorway because I have no idea where to sit. There are four table settings laid out, and I’m positive the one at the head of the table is for Samuel, so that gives me a fifty percent chance of guessing right between the other two. Still, I don’t like those odds enough to try.
And fortunately, Lincoln arrives less than a minute later, followed almost immediately by his father. Mr. Black takes his expected seat at the head of the table, and Lincoln holds a chair out for me before sitting in the other one.
“So, are you two getting excited about winter break? It’ll be here before you know it.”