by S. M. West
“I’m so sorry.”
His angry outbursts make more sense now. Despite his playful persona or his sometimes hard-ass demeanor, he’s a caring man. I can only imagine how he’s coping with the loss of his parents’ unconditional love or the fact that they won’t acknowledge the change or give him any answers.
“It’s just…” He glances away, then back to me. “I miss them. Who they used to be, and I…”
He holds me tight. His beard brushes against my neck as he kisses and licks along my neck and jaw. His mouth lands on mine, our kisses soft at first. I want to take away his pain, make this all better.
I can’t fix it, but I can help him forget, if only for a while. I deepen our kiss, my tongue delving and sweeping through his mouth. His lips are hot, plump, and softer than you’d think. Our kisses are long and wet, our tongues dancing to the beat of our increasing desire.
Until he breaks away from my mouth, trailing kisses, licks and nips down my neck while he palms my breasts through my tank. “Fuck, I love these, so perfect.” His breath tickles my skin.
I arch my back, giving him better access while his fingers dip beneath the neckline to pull the fabric below my breasts. He pinches and pulls at my nipples, sending shivers directly to my core.
Latching onto his shoulders, I clumsily yank at his shirt until he finally understands my need to feel his hard, bare chest under my fingertips. He pulls his shirt over his head, and as soon as he’s free of the fabric, he dives back in. His hot, wet mouth covers my hardening nipple, sucking and nipping at the sensitive bud.
A loud, sharp knocking on the door causes us to jump and break apart. His shirt is strewn on the floor, my breasts are spilling out of my tank, and our respective heads of hair are untamed.
“Don’t answer it.” Silas quickly regains his focus and goes back to worshipping my breasts.
I want to give in and ignore whoever it is, but they are persistent. As I’m internally debating whether I end our make-out session or take Silas to bed, the lock turns, and the door opens, shocking us both.
Silas springs into action and presses my chest against him to shield me from wandering eyes.
Daisy, my sister, stands at the door in a well-fitted yellow sundress and red espadrilles with wedge heels, with two large suitcases at her feet. Beside her is my landlord, Dick – the name suits him – who is amused at what they walked in on.
Forgetting my tank is pulled down, I attempt to step from behind Silas, but his grip tightens on my hip, keeping me where I am. He growls, my name slipping past his lips like a curse.
Despite his caveman moves, I’m grateful and shove my boobs back into my top before coming to stand beside him. Silas waists until I’m decent to put on his shirt.
“Daisy. What are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you, too, Pansy,” she says with a huge dose of attitude.
We haven’t seen each other in the five years since my mother died. A sharp pang rips through my heart when I think of that day. Ivy and Daisy picking over mom’s things like vultures, while Poppy and I wanted to be anywhere but there. Since then, Daisy and I have emailed and texted occasionally, but nothing significant. Why on earth is she here?
“Holy shit, you’re Silas Palmer!” Daisy squeals, coming fully into my place.
I snort and roll my eyes; everyone looks to me, and an embarrassed heat creeps up my neck. Silas tucks me into his side and gazes back at Daisy. Dick still stands mutely at the door, his sallow complexion flush as he stares at me as if he’s seen my birthday suit. I suppose I did give him an eyeful.
Daisy’s gaze is glued to Silas, and she hesitates for a brief second before throwing herself at him. Arms and legs are clinging to him like a monkey. An ugly feeling twists in my belly, my hands curling into fists.
Silas pries her arms off and steps away from her, sliding back to my side, arm around my waist. Daisy zeroes in on the gesture, her eyes flying to meet mine with arched brows and her mouth slightly parted.
“What are you doing here?” I ask again.
“Sheesh, since when did you become such a bitch?” Daisy snaps, plopping herself onto the couch where we just made out.
“Daisy.” Silas’s tone is a warning. This is all new to me, someone defending me without question.
Daisy clamps her mouth shut with Silas’s hard glare on her. Satisfied that she got the memo, he turns and says to Dick, “You can leave.”
My landlord’s beady eyes squint in what I’m sure he thinks are his bedroom eyes. Right at me. It’s creeping me out. Dick is easily in his late fifties with a beer gut that hangs low over his belt, and a stringy comb-over that barely covers his balding head.
“Oh, yeah,” he mumbles, his doughy jowl jiggling as he nods and pulls the key from the lock.
Silas grasps Dick’s shoulder, and from the older man’s wince, I’d say it’s hard. “And next time, unless a putrid smell or smoke is coming from under the door, you don’t come into this place uninvited. Got it?”
“I was just doing my job. She said,” he waves in Daisy’s direction, “she was worried about her sister.”
“Putrid smell or smoke. Got it?” Silas repeats. Dick screws up his face, mumbling under his breath, and leaves.
Sitting across from my sister, I try again. ”Daisy, last I heard you were in Croatia or Greece or something like that. What happened?”
Daisy coming back to the US is unusual. She swore she never would, preferring the jet-setting life.
“I missed you. Missed home.”
Raising my eyebrows skeptically, I study her. Her eyes dart between us as Daisy sinks her teeth into her bottom lip.
Taking his hand, we walk to the front door, and I lean in to whisper, “Silas, you stay here and sleep. I need to talk to my sister.”
He frowns, a gruff exhale passing his tight lips. “Nah, I’ll go home. You guys talk. But I need to see you soon.”
Daisy’s thrown a wrench into any plans of talking, knowing she’ll demand all my time. That’s what she does. If she isn’t the center of attention, then she creates a reason to be.
“We’ll figure something out.”
Cupping my face, he lowers his voice. “I’m back in the studio tomorrow, laying down a few demo tracks...”
“Hey, it’s only temporary. Go be a sexy rock star,” I tease, smacking his hard butt.
Like a twister, he whirls around, hauling me against his hard chest and nuzzling his face into my neck. His warm, wet tongue licks at my flesh.
“Damn, you taste good. I’d planned on eating all of you.”
“I can hear you!” Daisy shrieks, making gagging sounds from ten feet away.
“Then leave,” Silas fires before nipping at my neck again. I squirm in his hold, a hot ache growing between my thighs.
In one swift move, she pushes to standing with her hands on her hips and huffs. Taking three steps to the partition that separates my bed from everything else, she halts when she discovers there’s nothing beyond that.
She spins on her heel and her gaze lands on us; exasperated, she asks, “How do you live in this hovel?”
“You don’t have to stay here.” Silas is unrelenting in keeping Daisy in her place, and it’s now my turn to bury my face in his neck, stifling my laughter.
“Call me later,” he says before taking my face in his hands and planting a slow, sweet kiss on me; then he’s gone.
Daisy is transfixed, her eyes glued to where Silas just stood. “What the hell, Pansy? Why didn’t you tell me that you were sleeping with Silas fucking Palmer?”
“You say that like we share everything.” I sit back down beside her. “C’mon Daisy, why are you surprised that you don’t know anything about me?”
Knitting her brow, she crosses her arms and crinkles her nose, not pleased with my blunt truthfulness.
“It doesn’t have to be that way. Can I stay with you for a bit and we could reconnect?” She’s meek with the question, yet assessing my home as if it’s livable.
<
br /> “Not that you’re not welcome…” It takes everything within me to say and mean it. She’s my sister, I do love her, but she makes it so darn hard to like her, sometimes. “How did you find me?” As I ask, the answer comes to me.
“I called Ivy, and she gave me your address.” She shrugs like there’s nothing unusual about it.
“Why me? Why not Ivy? Or a five-star luxury hotel? My life, this,” I wave my hand around my tiny but cozy apartment, “is not up to your standards.”
“I can’t... I don’t want to go to Ivy’s, and I’d rather not spend money on a hotel. Besides, as difficult as this is for you to believe, I did want to see you. It’s been five years.”
“I know.”
“Just after Mom died.” She shifts to face me fully. “And last time I heard from you... gosh, I don’t know how long ago that was? Ivy told me about your escapade and jail time.”
Her wry grin matches the glint in her eye, and she slings her arm around my shoulder.
“Yeah, don’t remind me.” I chuckle.
“The little adventurist. You always did know how to have a good time.”
We sit in silence. Daisy’s unusually quiet and restless, shifting her position every few seconds. My hand lands on hers, fiddling with an imaginary thread or lint or something on her sundress.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”
Turning her palm up, she folds her fingers over mine, and we share a look. One that only sisters can. Even if you’re not close or have your differences, there’s a level of understanding that exists between siblings that’s born of all your shared experiences. We know each other, even if we don’t like each other.
“I messed up and just need a place to lie low and figure stuff out. I don’t want to get into it now. I’m not ready to, but when I am, I’ll tell you. It’s just that, I think I may be done with modeling and I’m not sure what that means. Where do I go from here?”
“I get that. I’m at a crossroad too. I’m trying to figure out what I want to do with my life.” I brace for a nasty remark, but nothing comes. Instead, she holds my hand tighter and nods.
She is my sister, and all my life I have wanted to be close to her. To have her see me, and this may be the moment. Or it may not. I’m under no illusion that Daisy and I may never get along, but this is the first time she’s come to me. I can’t turn my back on her.
I finally sleep for sixteen hours straight and wake to discover my parents are still here, even though I told them to leave. I get Jorge to take them to a hotel, and I call the band to tell them I’m not coming in today. Eli and Gray are cool with it. Jared and Bianca are ticked.
Jared is upset because we were on a roll, and he’s right. We were making serious progress, with several songs complete. Bianca is troubled about the money and time being wasted by our delays. It means the label will be breathing down her neck.
None of that matters to me. It should, but I need to see Pansy first. We ended things so abruptly because of Daisy’s arrival. I just want to make sure she’s okay.
I slip into Betty’s through the side door and stand quietly against the wall, taking in the chaos. The quaint restaurant is packed, and it’s not even lunch yet, though well past the morning rush. You’d think they were giving something away with the line out the door.
Pansy’s working the small space, serving orders and clearing tables. She hasn’t noticed me, nor do I expect her to. For one, it’s way too busy. Two, I’m supposed to be with the band. And three, I doubt even she’d recognize me in my ball cap and sunglasses, clean-shaven with a new haircut.
Gone are my beard and long locks in favor of scruff and shorter, jaw-length hair. It was time for the beard to go and my hair is still long by some standards, namely my father’s, but overall, I’m cleaner cut, less rocker.
I needed a change. I’m heading in a new direction, I’ve got the best girl in the universe and every day brings me closer to the future. With my parents showing up, it felt like something I needed to do, as if I’m shedding the past and moving forward.
Even with my new hair, I’ve still disguised myself somewhat because the band is hot right now with the record in the making. And since Pansy’s been here, I’ve frequented the streets of Santa Monica more than I ever have before. If I want to keep my resident status a secret, maintaining my low profile is definitely needed.
As I look around, there’s more than enough action to entertain me: the young couple locking lips in line, the Barbie look-alike adjusting her tits, or the goth chick smooching her chihuahua.
But even with all these distractions, I can’t tear my gaze from Pansy. She hustles from behind the counter, a tray in hand, laden with food and coffee. She’s wearing those damn fuck-me shorts. Yes, the same ones that stole my breath in the middle of the desert.
As much as I hate seeing her in those shorts, or I should say hate other guys laying eyes on her in them, she’s heart-stopping. She is graceful and sensual in an unassuming way, with the subtle sway of her hips and gentle bounce of her perky tits. A few strands of her tresses have escaped her messy top knot and wildly frame her pretty face.
Blowing a long stray lock from her vision, she sets the tray down in front of an older guy who can’t keep his eyes off her. While I share the compulsion, I hate it.
She smiles and says something to the dirty old man. I don’t like her working here. He returns her smile, although his is more a leer, then she turns to leave.
If I weren’t watching, I’d never have known, but the fucker sticks the tip of his shoe in her way. It’s subtle, nearly imperceptible, but Pansy stumbles, losing her balance thanks to his move. It happens in slow motion.
The asshole latches onto her hips, thrusting her backward onto his lap, a smarmy grin spreading across his face. She shrieks in surprise, one hand flying to her mouth and the other to her chest as the bastard chuckles.
Without missing a beat, he wraps his arm tightly around her and whispers into her ear. Immediately, her cheeks redden, and she wriggles to get free, and me, like a grenade with the pin pulled, I’m ready to explode. I charge toward them, single-minded in my mission to kick the ever-loving shit out of this asshole.
Pansy’s now out of his grasp and saying something to him. One hand on her hip, she points her finger at him, oblivious to the incoming missile.
He, in turn, raises his hands in surrender, eyes widening as he catches sight of me barreling toward him.
She glances behind to see what’s got him shaking in his boots, and places her hand where my heart is, stopping me from going further.
“Silas.” Her pitch is higher than usual, and her anxious expression morphs into a small smile, eyes brightening, then dimming as her features shift, yet again, into a tense frown.
“Pansy, please step out of the way. This asshole deliberately tripped you,” I grind out, my eyes laser-focused at the douchebag behind her, shaking in his seat. He is about to get his face acquainted with his ass.
“Silas, I know.” Her tone is softer, calmer as she rubs small, warm circles on my chest. Her other hand caresses my day-old stubble with a twinkle in her eye. My cock jerks, happy to have her hands on me. “Please let me handle this.”
“Look, I was out of line, I’m sorry…” the asswipe has the nerve to say. I stab him with an icy glare, and he shuts the fuck up.
“I want to rearrange his face, or better yet, knock all his teeth out,” I threaten loud enough for him to hear over the din of the crowd, my eyes never leaving his.
“And I’d let you if I didn’t think I could handle it. Please…”
“Hey, come with me,” Betty interjects out of nowhere, nabbing my bicep and tugging me away from the jackass.
Pansy mouths thank you to her employer and cuts back to me. This time our gazes lock, and I see how much she needs me to listen to her. To let her handle this, even though every fiber of my being wants to kick the shit out of him.
Betty drags me through the small, hot as hell kitchen and
out the door to the rear of the building.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you looking to cause a scene and have all of the LA media at my doorstep?” Betty may be only five feet tall and well over sixty, but right now, she might as well be a fire-breathing dragon. She’s spitting nails, and they’re aimed at me.
“Shit, Bets, I’m sorry.”
Slumping onto a stack of wooden pallets, I rip the ball cap off my head and roughly comb my fingers through my hair. She’s right. If I’d hit that guy, people would have had their phones out, and in no time at all, it’d be viral that Silas Palmer went ape-shit on some poor guy.
She relaxes her warrior stance; coming to me, she rests her small hand on my shoulder.
“It’s not to say that jerk doesn’t deserve an ass-kicking,” she says, smirking. “I also saw what he did and was ready to come out and deal with it myself. But in case you missed it, that little lady in there can take care of herself.”
We share a sardonic grin before I chuckle, nodding. “True. She’s certainly put me in my place many times.”
“I know you want to protect her. If it helps, I look out for my people. She’s in good hands when she’s here. I won’t let anything happen to her.”
I pull the spry woman into my side and gently squeeze her. She’s a sweet woman, and it’s comforting to know she’s got Pansy’s back.
“It does help. Thanks, Bets.” I kiss the top of her white-haired head as Pansy comes out into the lot.
With her hands on her hips, she squints, watching as Betty stands and pats my hand.
“Go easy on him, his heart was in the right place,” Betty says before leaving.
She’s upset, but is it at me or the fuckwad inside? She brushes a few wisps of hair from her face and nears me until she’s standing a foot from me. I just want her in my arms, but she doesn’t budge.
Instead, her eyes take me in, from head to toe. She cocks her head to one side and narrows her eyes while her teeth sink into her lower lip. Fuck me; she’s killing me. A light sparks her eyes and a slow, sexy grin strikes her mouth like the bright sun rising.