by JA Huss
“Other people?” I ask. “As in…”
“Well, my dad, for one. I don’t need him knowing we’re in here. And your dad. You know how paranoid they are.”
He takes my hand and leads me back to the steep steps. We climb out, he closes the trapdoor, puts the mat back in place, and then rolls the toolbox back over it.
Ta-da. Secret room underneath the Aston garage is gone.
“Do they… Do they still…” I stare at Five, unable to finish.
Five shrugs. “I dunno, Rory. I have no clue what they do. Maybe it’s just putting out fires and nothing more?”
That could be one explanation. After all, the live shots on those monitors were mostly just our family homes and businesses here in Fort Collins. Who knows where Uncle James was in that hotel room? He and his family live out in the middle of the ocean somewhere on a private island. I’ve never even been there. But I can only assume that live shot of the dock was his place.
“Why did you show me this?” I ask the question, but I already know the answer.
“Because something is wrong, Rory. Our parents might not be involved in anything bad at the moment, but they did a lot of shit when they were our age. And shit like that never really goes away.”
“But there’s more than that, isn’t there?” I ask. “You say you came here for a meeting down in Denver. But that’s not what it was, was it?”
He shakes his head as he takes my hands. “I don’t know.”
“You know more than you’re saying. That’s for sure. And I want to know what you do, Five Aston. Right now.”
He pulls me towards him and hugs me close. “If I had anything to tell, I would. I swear.”
“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
“Me?” Five pulls back to stare me in the eyes. “I’m not doing anything. These people—”
“Who?”
“Look,” he says, exasperated. “Right now, it doesn’t matter who. It’s a guy from school, OK? Just some guy from school and his bizarre invitation to join some exclusive club.”
“Oh, God,” I groan. “Invitations to exclusive clubs are never good.”
Five laughs, breaking the tension. “No shit, Princess. I’ve been trying to stay away from this guy for years and now he shows up here? I don’t get it. And I’m not trying to be a chauvinistic dick about this by being vague, I’m just seriously confused.”
“Maybe we should call our parents?”
“Nah,” Five says. “That’s a shit storm we don’t want to start. If we tell our parents, they’ll come home from Florida and put everyone in lockdown mode.”
“Or cart us off on some yacht to live with Uncle James and Aunt Harper in the middle of the ocean,” I add.
“Or that.” He laughs. But then his smile falters. “Jesus. They might seriously do that. Do not tell anyone, OK, Rory? I mean it, we don’t need to start a panic. This might be nothing. It might just be a few rich assholes trying to broker better business deals and nothing more. We shouldn’t automatically assume everyone is living a secret life just because we are.”
True. He’s got a point there. But then I remember something he said earlier. “Why do our families go to Disneyland every year? If it’s not because my mom is obsessed with princesses?”
“It is. I was kidding. How many times have you been to Disney World?”
“God, I dunno. Every year since I can remember. Even when my sisters were small babies.”
“See?”
But I don’t see. Not really. Because yeah, our families have gone to Florida every summer since I was a kid. But every now and then, when we were down there, my parents would take off for a few days and we’d stay with Sparrow’s family. Or Five’s. Or their parents would take off and they’d stay with us. One summer, the last one I spent with them, all the adults disappeared and Kate, Sparrow, and I watched the younger kids for a few days.
Where did they go?
I always assumed it was the spa. That’s what they told us, and why would they lie? But in light of this new information—that command central secret hideaway Ford has down in the garage basement—I have to wonder.
“Come on,” Five says. “Let’s go out to the farm and swim.” Then he smiles and waggles his eyebrows at me. “Bathing suits optional.”
It’s a thirty-minute drive out to my family’s farm in Bellvue. Five talks the whole time. About London, and his new business. Robots, robots, robots. I appreciate the white noise, but my eyes are glued on the passing landscape out the window and my mind is consumed with all the possible reasons life seems to be going sideways at the moment.
But as soon as we pull onto our private road I smile when I read the street sign.
My dad paid good money to choose his own name for this road. It used to be called Private Road 13 back in the day and then he had it specially named Bombs-A Way. This is a story he told often when I was a kid. Mostly as a way to placate my bombshell of a mother when she was in an explosive mood.
It worked every time.
They cannot be terrible people.
Can they?
My father is the best. I’m such a daddy’s girl. And yes, Five did make the princess name stick, but I was a princess the moment my father laid eyes on me. There’s a picture hanging in his office of him and my mom just minutes after I was born. I see the love in his eyes.
How can that man be a bad guy?
And my mom. She’s raised six kids. She makes breakfast every morning and dinner every night. She carted us all around to gymnastics, and horse shows, and karate lessons.
I just can’t reconcile these two versions of my parents.
“You coming?” Five asks.
I realize he’s parked his car, gotten out, and is holding my door open, offering me his hand.
“Yeah,” I say, shaking off all the questions.
“Just… just don’t think about it yet, Rory.” Five can read my mind, I think. He knows me so well. “We don’t know shit. Hell, I might just be overreacting and in a few weeks, we’ll look back on this and laugh at our paranoid stupidity.”
I smile for him, because that’s what he’s looking for. He wants to comfort me, so I let him. I fold into his embrace and let him walk me out to the pool.
“I can get you a suit,” I say. “I’m sure my dad has—”
“Fuck that.” Five laughs. “I’m not wearing your dad’s swim trunks. Besides,” he says, leaning down to talk in my ear. “I lied earlier. Bathing suits aren’t optional. They’re forbidden.”
“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it, Mr. Aston? Get me naked.”
“You’re on to me, Princess.”
When I look up at him—see his smile—I realize just how much I’ve missed him. God, I’d be an idiot to let this moment be anything other than what it is. Time alone, reunited with the only man I have ever loved or will ever love.
He opens the gate to the fence that surrounds the pool and waves me forward. Our backyard pool is something right out of a five-star resort. It’s massive, and curvy, with real boulders, not man-made ones, and the water looks like it came straight out of a mountain lake. On one end there’s a waterfall and a hidden grotto, and on the other is a hot tub for cold nights.
It’s the perfect place to relax. Especially when you’re alone with the man of your dreams.
“Come here,” Five says, leading me over to the grotto side of the pool.
God. I might’ve fantasized about being alone with Five Aston in that grotto a million times over the years. But this farm is filled with people most of the time. There would never have been an occasion for Five and me to be alone out here.
Until now.
He wraps his arms around me, but just as I reach around him to hug him back, he’s slipping my shirt up over my head.
I look up at him. Wanting this so badly, but unsure at the same time.
“What?” he says. “Are you shy, Princess?”
I suck in a breath and force myself to look him in the eyes.
“Nope,” I say, mustering up some confidence.
“Then why are you blushing a bright pink?”
“Oh, God,” I say, my hands flying to my face. Sure enough, they are warm. But whatever. I don’t care. I am blushing. So what. “I’m happy,” I say. “But nervous.”
“We made love last night and you were fine.”
“That was in the dark, Five. It’s not the same.”
“No,” he says, placing his hands over mine. His palms are warm and calming coolness at the same time. He leans in and kisses me softly on the lips, whispers, “It’s not the same at all. It’s better.”
A moment later he’s unclasping my bra. It falls forward when the tension releases, and slides down my arms.
I stand there, bare from the waist up, and look at him.
We share a smile when I reach for his t-shirt. I’m not tall enough to pull it over his head, but he doesn’t wait for me to ask for help. One swift movement and it’s joined my shirt on the stone pavers surrounding the pool.
And then he’s bare from the waist up too.
“I’m gonna take off your shorts, Princess.”
“Don’t you want me to put on a show, Mr. Aston?”
I get a sideways smirk in response. “I wouldn’t mind one. But no,” he says, reaching for the button of my shorts, unfastening it. “I don’t need a show. I might die if you drag it out to long.”
I look down and watch his fingertips drag the zipper down. Warmth fills my body and it’s not from the sun.
I look up again, his hands busy wiggling my shorts over my hips. “I want you,” I say.
“You’ve got me, Ror. I’ve been yours for as long as I can remember.”
“I love you, Five. And I’ve missed you. And I hate that we’ve spent so many years apart and that we’re only together now because of some stupid misunder—”
“Shhh,” he says, kissing me quiet. “Stop it. None of that matters now. We’re here, we’ve got this day alone together, and we’re gonna make memories we’ll never be able to tell anyone about.”
I laugh. “Well, just each other.”
“Yeah,” he says, bending so he can drag my shorts down my legs. I place my hands on his shoulders and step out of them. They go flying over his shoulder, forming a brand-new pile of discarded clothing. “We’ll be old and cranky one day. I’ll probably drive you nuts somewhere around our thirtieth anniversary, and this time you’ll reach your limit. And I’ll say, ‘Hey, Princess.’ And then you’ll say, ‘You’ve used up all your natural charm, Five.’”
I laugh.
“And I’ll say, ‘Remember that day I fucked your brains out in your family pool?’”
We share a long happy moment just picturing our old, bickering selves.
“And then what?” I ask. “What will I say?”
“You’ll say, ‘Which time?’” And then we both laugh.
“Is this going to be a regular thing?”
“For sure, Princess. We’re gonna be together forever, right? So we’re gonna make a pact right now. That every time we find ourselves out here at your family farm, we’ll meet in the grotto for sexy times.”
“Deal,” I say. “But you do know my dad will shoot you if he ever finds out?”
“Shit.” Five laughs. “I can handle your old man. He’s not so scary.”
I realize I’m standing in my underwear and he’s still got shorts on. So I reach for the button. “You’re gonna regret that someday, ya know.”
But Five has lost all interest in this conversation. He’s looking down as I unzip his shorts. And when I press my palm flat against his hard cock, he closes his eyes like this might be the best moment of his life.
“Five,” I say, my voice low and sultry.
“Yeah,” he says, still with his eyes closed.
“Fuck me.”
Chapter Twelve - Five
Just the shape of her mouth when she says those words is enough. Her pink lips. The softness of them. And the emotion that comes out.
Fuck me, she mouths. No sound this time. But everything else is still there. “Right here, Five.”
Her hand slips inside my shorts. Grabs me. Her little fist squeezes and I have to close my eyes. One step forward and she’s in my arms, my mouth on her, our tongues doing the sweetest dance as we kiss.
I palm her breast, letting it fill up and spill over in my hand. She moans for me as my other hand slips behind her neck and I grab her hair.
“Yes,” she whispers. “I like that. Do more of that.”
Jesus Christ, Princess Shrike is really playing her A-game today.
No, I think. She’s desperate for you, Five. You’ve left her hanging for six years and this right here, what she’s doing right now, is because of all that time you’ve spent apart.
So I give her what she wants. I back away, letting the hand on her breasts slide down to her waist. I caress the skin that curves around her hip and trace my way down her arm to hold her hand inside my shorts.
“Take them off me,” I say.
She smiles. Her head is tilted up so she can look me in the eyes. And then she gives my shorts a tug and they fall down my legs. My cock is hard. And it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to push her over to the lounge chairs and bend her over.
But that’s not how I want this to go. I have so many better things planned for Miss Rory Shrike this afternoon.
“Now you,” she says, looking down at her one article of clothing.
I hook my fingertips into the elastic of her panties and pull them down. She closes her eyes, then quickly opens them again. Like she doesn’t want to miss a single moment of what’s happening. I bend down, and even though they’ll drop to the ground on their own once I get them over her hips, I hold on to them. An excuse to stay where I am. To look at her pussy. To lean in and kiss her, right between her legs.
“Five,” she says, her hands on top of my head, urging me as she grabs my hair in her fists. “God, don’t stop.”
I don’t want to stop. I want to stay in this moment forever. Just enjoy her. Just open her legs and lick her little nub and make her come right now.
But again, I have so many other, better things I want to do with her first.
“Come on,” I say, leading her towards the edge of the pool.
We jump together. Instinctively. There are no words of caution, no moments of hesitation. We just jump.
The water is cool and refreshing. I linger underwater for a moment, looking at her golden blonde hair as it floats up and around her head like she’s defying gravity.
And then we surface at the same time and enter a different world. A new world. Our adult world. Our shared life together.
“Now what will we do, Five Aston?” she says, wiping water from her eyes. “What’s next?”
I look at the waterfall spilling over the rocks on the far end of the pool and nod my head. “Let’s go.”
We swim. And when we get to the waterfall, we stop and wait. For what, exactly, I’m not sure. But it’s a moment. Something that will embed into our memories of each other and stay there forever.
She smiles. Mouths, Let’s go. And then she disappears underwater and swims into the grotto hiding behind the curtain of water.
Fuck yes, I think in my head. This is how it’s supposed to be. How it was always supposed to be.
I duck under and find her on the other side, already climbing out onto the rock ledge. I see a flash of her pussy as she does this, and impulsively reach over and grab her around the waist, pulling her back in the water with me.
“Five!” she squeals. “What are you doing?”
I hold her tight, my arms wrapped around her to hold her still. And then I lean into her ear and say, “Do that again. Only this time, do it slowly.” I feel her lungs expand against my chest. Like she just took a deep, deep breath. “So I can get a better look.”
She exhales. Looks over her shoulder at me. And swallows.
I have no idea how experienced she is
. Sexually, I mean. I know she’s not a virgin because I took that when we were still teenagers. But I made myself let her go. She needed to find her adult self and be her own person. So I didn’t stalk her. God, there was no way I could’ve stalked her. I would’ve made myself crazy with longing and jealousy if I had done that.
So the hard swallow could be nervousness.
“OK,” she says, her small voice echoing off the walls of the cave.
But I don’t think it is.
She struggles, reminding me that I’m still holding her tightly to my chest, and reaches for the ledge one more time. I let go of her, step back in the little grotto pool, and watch as she lifts herself out of the water, knees on the rock ledge, and flashes me again.
Only this time she waits like this. She gives me an invitation.
I step forward, unable to look away at the pink, wet line of her pussy peeking at me from between her legs, and place a hand on her ass.
I catch a nervous look over her shoulder as she bites her lip. And then she drops her elbows to the floor and rests her head on her hands. Puts her ass high in the air. This exposes her in a way that will drive me crazy if I don’t do something about it right…
There is no way my tongue can stop. There is no way my mouth won’t press up against her soft folds and lick—
“Ohhh,” she moans.
I grab both ass cheeks to spread her wide open. I lick her, flicking my tongue back and forth across her clit. And even though the initial shock of cold water tempered my hard-on, it’s back now.
A finger slips inside her. The pressure of her muscles clamping down just about undoes my self-control.
“I like that,” she murmurs.
“Do you?” I ask, my voice betraying all the desire building inside me. She squeezes again, her pussy so wet now, and none of it has to do with the swim.
“More,” she says, looking at me over her shoulder. More. Just mouthing it this time.
God, that shit is sexy.
I lean in and bite her ass cheek. This makes her moan, and before I can even make a decision, two fingers are pumping inside her. She pushes back at me. Forcing me to penetrate deeper. I lick her ass and…
She groans so loud, and with such desire, I have to reach down and fist my cock.