Fractured Things (Folkestone Sins Book 2)

by Samantha Lovelock

“There’s no need,” I interrupt. “Really. We’re all a bit on edge right now, I get it.” Heaving myself up from my seat on the floor, I extend my hand. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today. It was a strange request, I know.” My feet shuffle nervously on the thick area rug. “Some part of me just needed to hear that somebody else loved her, that she was missed. Whether you tried to find her, or—”

  “Or if I just let her go?” He grasps my hand firmly and looks me straight in the eyes. “To this day, Stella, my heart aches for Catherine and everything that was lost when she left. I’ve never really let her go. I don’t know if I know how.” Leaning in and giving me a brief, unexpected hug, he pulls back and gives me a watered-down smile, the look on his face nearly breaking my heart. “She was everything to me.”

  He steps back to retrieve his half-finished glass of scotch from the wet bar.

  “Just like you are quickly becoming for my son.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Before sending me on my way, Holt gives me the contact information for the nurse I need to see at the hospital. He clarifies that I can have my blood drawn for the paternity test anytime on Monday. The nurse will be available all day, and if I change my mind and decide not to go at all, that’s fine too.

  Somehow, I don’t feel comfortable asking him the other question I had today, so I choose to save it for another time. He seemed so sad talking about my mom, like the wounds of her leaving were still so fresh after all these years, that waiting to ask him if he’ll help me start up the search again seems like the kindest thing to do.

  I thank him again for everything he’s done for me and step into the hallway to text Poe.

  ME: Done with your dad. Where are you?

  THE ONLY DICK IN THE ROOM: Straight ahead to the first set of stairs. Turn right at the top. Door at the end of the hall.

  THE ONLY DICK IN THE ROOM: P.S. I’m not wearing any panties.

  ME: Oh goody, that makes two of us.

  THE ONLY DICK IN THE ROOM: Well, now i’m starting without you.

  ME: Okay, since you don’t need me I’ll just head home then.

  THE ONLY DICK IN THE ROOM: Like hell you will. Get your ass up here so I can spank it.

  The corners of my mouth tuck back in a grin, and I go in search of the stairs to the second floor. Once I find them, my eyes guiltily search the immediate area, feeling like I’m about to get my knuckles smacked for sneaking a cookie out of the jar. The coast looks clear, so I shush my inner good girl and climb the slightly curving staircase, listening to my footsteps echoing softly in the lonely silence of the house.

  Just as I clear the last riser and take a right at the top, a feminine cackle comes from somewhere behind me, and my skin crawls. My feet immediately halt, freezing me in place, and I stare straight ahead for a few seconds before turning to face the source of the god-awful sound.

  From the shadows of a doorway on the opposite side of the stairway, Eunice Halliday emerges. Dressed in a long satin robe, the perfect shade of deep emerald to compliment her mahogany hair and creamy skin, she tipsily sways her way toward me, a nearly empty martini glass her only accessory.

  “Look who it is. Come to spread your legs for the ungrateful brat down the hall?” She tries to flutter her mascara-clumpy lashes in my direction while draining the remainder of her drink but ends up looking like she’s having a seizure instead.

  Not wanting to take the bait, I bite my tongue and stare at the horrid woman still half-hidden in the shadows in front of me, trying like hell to keep my face expressionless and cold. We continue to eye each other, and when Eunice realizes I’m not going to give in, she seems to get bored with our standoff and changes tactics.

  “You wouldn’t be the first whore he’s had, you know, and you certainly won’t be the last. Sooner or later, they all get tired of their toys and go looking for new ones.” She creeps a few steps closer, and as she comes fully into the light flooding this section of the hall, I can see how bloodshot her eyes are and how badly applied her makeup is—it looks like she put it on with a trowel, in the dark, and with her wrong hand.

  Okay, this whole zombified, dead woman walking aesthetic she’s got going on is really freaking me out. Should I yell for Poe or stake her through the heart? No, wait, that’s vampires. How do you kill a zombie again? Fuck me, I should have paid more attention to Sally when she rambled on about The Walking Dead.

  My dark sense of humor really does pick the most inopportune times to rear its ugly head, and before I can stop myself, I laugh out loud at my inner monologue. Eunice really doesn’t appreciate that, and she leans in close enough to either kiss me or bite me, her breath soaked in so much alcohol I’m surprised I’m not drunk just by being downwind of it.

  “Be careful, sweet little Catherine,” she hisses, hatred oozing from every syllable. “The Halliday men may hide their secrets well, but they all have them—deep and dark and capable of bleeding hearts dry. That spawn of mine is no different.”

  Did she really just call me Catherine? Does she think I’m my mother?

  Spinning surprisingly steadily on her feet, Eunice weaves back down the hall into the opposite wing, her empty glass dangling from her fingertips and her terrible witchy laugh trailing behind.

  Secrets? Was she serious, or was that just the booze talking?

  Trepidation wraps around my neck like an itchy wool scarf, and I do my best to pull it off before I get to Poe’s room.

  “So, this is where the magic happens, huh, Halliday?” I duck under the arm he’s using to brace his bedroom door open and do my best dudebro swagger to the center of the room, secretly pleasantly surprised at how airy and light the space is. “This where the girls all swoon and give in to your every desire?” Tipping his head back, he laughs before pushing the door closed and turning to lean against it. He wraps his strong, sexy hands around the back of his neck, cradling his head and putting every inch of his still-shirtless chest on display.

  “Nah, no magic, and no girls. Not unless you count Payne, and the one time out of every thirty he manages to beat me in Mortal Kombat.” He grins and flicks his chin in the direction of the two leather gaming chairs in the corner that face the large flatscreen hanging on the wall. “Why? You jealous, Star?” Lowering his hands, he uses his palms to shove off the door and takes a few prowling steps toward me.

  That is very much the look of somebody who is thinking impure thoughts.

  Rather than shrink back, I match his movements and do a little prowling of my own to close the distance until only a foot or so separates us.

  “Nope,” the ‘p’ pops solidly from my mouth. “I make my own magic—no need to be jealous of anybody else’s.” My eyes lock with his as I decide to let a bit of my inner bad girl come out to play, and my right index finger disappears between my lips. Slowly withdrawing it, I let it trail teasingly down the front of my torso and hook under the top of my leggings.

  With a growl, Poe grabs for my waist with one arm, and I dance backward out of his reach, grinning.

  “Nuh-uh. You lied to me, Poe Alexander Halliday.” His face blanches far more than it should, but my lust-fueled brain barely registers it. Shaking the same finger at him that was just in my mouth, I put my mock stern face on. “You said you weren’t wearing any panties. Clearly, you weren’t wearing a shirt.” He quickly covers the relief that floods his features with a shocked look and a finger pointing back at his chest, as if to say ‘who, me?’.

  Strolling casually to his little man-cave corner, I turn one of the gaming chairs to face the middle of the room and plant myself in it, crossing my legs all ladylike at the knee. “Yes, you. If you want me to believe you, I’m afraid I’m going to require proof of your initial statement.” With an eyebrow raised at him in challenge, I wait to see how he responds, wondering if I’m a little too forward for his liking.

  His reaction definitely says otherwise, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Without a word, he strides to stand directly in front of me, his long legs touchi
ng mine. While he’s looking down at me from his full six feet two inches, a section of his thick dark hair falls in front of his forehead, and he tucks his lower lip between his teeth. Enjoying the view from where I’m sitting, my eyes move from his gorgeous face and slowly slide down his muscular chest, pausing at the stainless steel barbell piercing his left nipple before continuing on to his well-defined abs. My thighs clench, and I feel the wetness building between them as my gaze drops further down to the carved V of his hips.

  Practically sitting on my hands at this point to keep from reaching out and touching him, I know I’ve lost this game as soon as his thumbs hook into his waistband. When I raise my head quickly, and our eyes meet, he slowly and smoothly pushes his basketball shorts down just enough to allow his beautiful and rock hard cock to spring free.

  “See? No panties,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. Now his eyebrow is the one raised in challenge, and I’m fully willing to accept it.

  Sitting where I am has its advantages. I uncross my legs and leave my hands planted on the arms of the chair. Leaning forward, my tongue flicks lightly over the smooth head of his cock. Relishing his sharp intake of breath, I smile to myself before opening my mouth and sliding my lips all the way down his velvety shaft. He shudders as I swirl my tongue up and down his length and suck him almost to the brink, the sounds coming from my mouth and his moans blending together perfectly.

  “Oh my God, you have no idea how good that feels, and you’re not even using your hands.” He lets me continue for another minute or so, gently swiveling his hips until he can’t handle it anymore. “Star, gorgeous, you have to stop,” he pants, “or I’m going to come in your pretty mouth.”

  Slipping him from between my lips and planting a light kiss on the tip, I reach forward and pull his shorts back up and wipe the corners of my mouth with my fingertips. Grinning, I stand and try to walk past him, but Poe’s strong fingers catch my chin and tilt it upward, so I’m looking him straight in the face.

  “Not so fast, Bradleigh. I also require proof of your earlier statement.” A wicked smile that sets my heart pounding settles over his mouth. “You know, tit for, well, tit in this case.” His free hand finds its way under the edge of my sweater and trails up my side. Feathering his touch over my bra, he continues to grip my chin tightly and refuses to break eye contact as his hand slips inside and palms my left breast. Pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers until my knees start to shake, he releases my chin and moves both hands to the top of my leggings. Slowly and deliberately, he crouches in front of me and, gripping tight with both hands, pulls them all the way down my legs.

  “Now who’s the liar? You are totally wearing panties.” He clucks his tongue. Grasping the edge of my thin black cotton bikini underwear in both hands, he gives me a look so hot it nearly sets me ablaze. “Don’t worry, I can fix the problem for you.” With that, he tears my panties right down the side seam and peels them off, tossing the scrap of material to the floor. “Now, for your punishment.”

  “My punishment?” I ask, my voice hitching. Before I can blink, he shoves me back down in the chair, the leather cool against my bare ass and my sweater bunched just under my tits. Reaching for the leggings that are still tangled inside out around my feet, he tugs them off roughly, and they join my shredded underwear on the floor. His strong hands circle my ankles and lift them, forcing my knees up and back. Hooking a leg over each arm of the chair, he leaves my now soaking wet pussy on full display. Sliding his hands down the outside of my legs to my hips, he pulls me forward until my ass is at the very edge of the seat.

  Way too turned on to be embarrassed and needing to be touched before I go crazy, my right hand slips down between my legs and finds my clit, rolling the hard bundle of nerves under my finger. Poe’s eyes greedily devour the sight of me playing with myself before he abruptly reaches out and pulls my hand away.

  “Bad girls aren’t allowed to get themselves off. This is your punishment—the only way you get to come is if I let you. And you have to ask nicely.” With a self-satisfied smirk, he drops his head between my legs and runs his lips and tongue up my inner thigh, stopping just shy of where I need him to be and making me squirm. “Now,” he murmurs, continuing to lick and kiss, “are you sorry you lied about not wearing panties?”

  “Holy shit, yes, I’m so sorry,” my words are breathy. “Sorry times a million. Poe, please,” I moan desperately.

  “Please what? What would you like me to do while I’m down here?” His head lifts slightly, and his breath is warm against my pussy as he speaks. “If there’s something you’d like me to lick, Star, you’re going to have to ask.”

  Can you actually pass out from being too turned on? The way he’s talking to me is making me fucking crazy. Bashful be damned, I’ll tell him exactly what I want him to do just so I can get off.

  “Oh my God, please, yes. Please, I want you to lick my clit,” I plead. The words come out softly, but they’re loud enough for him to hear, and his fingers spread my lips apart while his tongue, his fantastically talented pierced tongue, finds my clit and laps eagerly at it.

  I reach down and grab the bottom of my sweater, bunching it up and pressing it against my mouth to keep from screaming his name. His tongue works faster, and he slides two fingers inside me, curving them up slightly until he hits that spot that’s like nitrous for orgasms. My hips refuse to stay still, and I unashamedly ride his face until with one last lick, he pushes me over the edge, and I come hard and fast, my entire body shuddering.

  Leaving me sprawled in the chair trying to catch my breath, he quickly stands and wipes a hand over his chin while strutting to his nightstand and pulling out a box of condoms. Fishing one out, he throws the box on his bed, shoves off his shorts, and walks back to me fully naked. Standing hard and proud, he rips open the foil package and rolls the condom down over his length.

  Not exactly sure how the logistics of this will work in my current position, or if my legs can even hold me up right now, I attempt to get to my feet. Before I can, he reaches down and lifts me easily out of the chair, gripping my ass cheeks and placing himself at my entry as I wrap my legs around his waist. Locking his lips with mine, he slams into me in one hard thrust and swallows my gasp of surprise.

  The wall between his bedroom and attached bathroom is bare, thankfully, and he pushes my back against it for support. He rolls his hips, pulling nearly all the way out before slowly sliding all the way back in.

  I need more.

  “No more teasing, Poe, I need you to fuck me for real,” I say against his lips. He grips my ass tighter and seals his mouth to mine in another blistering kiss.

  Picking up speed, he fucks me nearly breathless, and it doesn’t take long for both of us to get to the peak. The orgasm I have feels like it might rip me in two, while he comes so hard, I can feel the pulsing heat through the condom.

  If my legs wouldn’t hold me before, they sure as hell won’t now. Never have I experienced anything even close to that.

  He tears his mouth away from mine and buries his head into the side of my neck, one hand sliding from my ass to my back and holding me tight. I feel him tremble slightly, but I figure it's just post-orgasm muscle twitches.

  “I missed you so fucking much,” he says against my neck once he catches his breath. “Please don’t ever leave like that again, okay? No matter what.” Cradling his head, I lean down and softly kiss his temple. “Promise me,” he whispers.

  “I promise,” I say, and he slips out of me and sets me gently on my feet.

  His fingers tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, and he gives me a look I’m not sure what to make of. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was something like love tempered by fear, but that doesn’t make sense, so I brush it off and he kisses me on the forehead before going into the bathroom to clean up.

  My legs are jello, and my insides are jumbled and languid, and dare I say happy. Things feel so right when I’m with him, so complete. It’s like he’s the
eleven on my personal dial, and with him next to me, I’m more myself than I am on my own.

  A yawn escapes me, so I pad over to the king-size bed.

  It may be two in the afternoon, and the sun is shining, but there’s something to be said for naps.

  Pulling off my sweater and unhooking my bra, I slide naked between the soft dark sheets that smell so wonderfully like him. When he comes to the doorway of the bedroom and finds me cuddled in his bed, he gives me the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen, and it makes my heart squeeze and my brain mush. I’m still astounded that this tough, beautiful, amazing boy wants anything to do with me.

  He crosses the room completely naked, and my eyes hungrily memorize every movement, every flex and twitch of smooth muscle. Climbing in beside me, his strong arms pull me to him, my back pressed firmly against his chest and our legs entwined together.

  Pleasantly exhausted and wrapped in a post-orgasm haze, I feel myself drifting off to sleep. But before I do, four words slip quietly between my lips.

  “I love you, Poe.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Stella’s breathing slips quickly into the rhythm of sleep. My brain hasn’t fully processed the words she whispered on the brink of slumber, but my body’s reaction was instantaneous—the breath caught in my throat, my heart slammed wildly against my ribcage, and damn if I didn’t get hard again. I’m afraid to move, afraid to breathe, in case I wake her up and she changes her mind. She’ll change it soon enough, and I need to feel this right now, this sensation that’s so new and scary and heartbreaking to me.

  If I’m completely honest with myself, I think I’ve been in love with her since I saw her dancing in the Aud with Sunday. People say things like love at first sight aren’t possible, but I think those people are unimaginative and full of shit. The heart wants what it wants, and apparently, there are times that shit is pretty instant. Hell, I’ll believe in aliens and ghosts and that Jimmy Hoffa and Elvis Presley are still alive if it means I can hold onto this a little longer. The thought of her ripping away the words that nobody outside of my father and my friends have ever said to me makes me feel physically ill.