Marbella Truth

by Shel Stone

No further prompting was needed as he quickly undid his shirt then lowered himself into the water. He was there with her, this was happening.

  As she waited, he waded to her. If she needed a sign that he was coming to her, it didn’t get much clearer than that. His arms enveloped her and she pressed herself to his body, her bare skin to his. Heat surged inside her. Her breast pressed to him and they kissed. Then he lifted her up and heaved her back into the water. Diving after her until he caught up with her again. He looked otherworldly under the water.

  Wrapping her legs around him, she fit them together. Their bodies beautifully merging in the water and for a moment, she knew they fit perfectly together. His hands were on her thighs and she felt how hard he was. But now her lungs were burning for air and she had to relinquish the perfection.

  The currents of the water stroked her heated body. The only thing she wanted right them was him, deep inside her. Finding him again, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her lips sought his, losing herself in the sensation again. Again her legs wrapped around him, the back of her shins drawing him closer to her, giving her the satisfaction of his hardness pressing to her burning heat. She groaned deeply as his hands on her backside pressed her harder to him.

  She needed more, she needed him to be inside her. To do that, she needed to move away and sort his trousers, but this felt too good to contemplate moving away, even for a greater reward.

  His groans reverberated through her as he drew them under the water again and they slowly sank to the bottom. The problem with water was that they couldn’t stay, they had to break apart again, emerging from the hidden world. Inns had moved to the edge of the pool, his breathing hard. She loved how his muscles contracted with it.

  Stroking the water out of her hair, she moved to him, desperately missing the feel of him to her. There was no sound other than their breaths and gentle lapping of the water.

  “You always surprise me,” he said, his voice rough with desire. Oh, how she loved when he sounded like that. She’d always loved how much he wanted her. That hadn’t changed.

  Her fingers slipped around his belt and unbuckled it, releasing his rock-hard cock. The smooth skin under her palm as she stroked him, strangled groans escaping him. “Do you want me?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She pressed it’s length to her belly, wishing it was inside her, but also loving the heady anticipation. Being with him always made her feel powerful, like a goddess. She loved how much he wanted her and how he couldn’t hide it. That had always been part of their relationship. She was the seductress.

  With his hands, he drew her closer and lifted her up until his cock was at her entrance. Her insides contracted sharply with the sensation of it, and the anticipation of the fullness of him pushing inside her fully.

  His tip pressed inside her, the sensations growing stronger. “I need all of you,” she said breathily.

  With his hands, he drew her down on him, leaving her to focus completely on the pleasure of it. Her insides clenched around him, savouring the lovely fullness of him inside her. God, she loved this. For a moment, she had to calm herself so she didn’t come straight away. Didn’t want this to be over too soon. Every moment of this had to be savoured.

  Shifting, he moved her until the side of the pool was at her back. It gave him leverage to pull back and firmly press into her again, culminating in a sharp pleasure as the tip of him hit her cervix. That sensation that was at times uncomfortable only added to it when she was with him. She loved that little sharpness at the height of such pleasure.

  Her hips met each stroke into her, building the tension higher inside her. His breath was rough, his lips stroking her with every thrust. How was it this was so incredibly hot between them? It always had been. Claiming his lips, she kissed him deeply as his thrusts became harder and deeper. Her hips rolled into his, taking him deeper. The sharp pleasure grew stronger and the tension started to overwhelm her.

  Her orgasm came in a harsh rush, locking her in place as his trusts continued, until it broke and waves of sheer pleasure undulated through her entire body. The whole of the world was only him and her, and the sensation between them. She felt him stiffen, felt him ground to her, his cock pulsing deep inside her as he released. His strained groans echoing through her, and her lungs still locked by sheer exquisiteness.

  Every bit of strength seeped from her body and her lungs finally released. She didn’t want it to be over, but her body was utterly and completely sated.

  Chapter 53

  THE PHILFORD PARTY WAS one of the main events on the Marbella calendar and Samara felt uncertain and ambiguous about the evening, and she hated it. The Barensteens had brought this chaos into her life, but then things were never easy. The question was if it was worth it. She liked Tristan, and even understood his stance on not being walked over. Obviously, things would settle down, but this battle for the Barensteen fortune was seeping into everything.

  Through the crowd, she spotted Cheyenne and Klaus. They made an impossibly handsome couple. Klaus’ style had improved with the addition of Cheyenne’s taste. They were completely different, but they suited each other perfectly. Or rather, Klaus had the good sense to give Cheyenne the space she needed.

  That was what she wanted, a partnership with someone who knew well enough to let the other person have what they needed. Also Klaus was completely in love with her and would probably do anything she wanted. There was something to be said for that too.

  Tristan drew her attention not far away, smiling as he saw her. That wasn’t a bad thing, was it? Could he be as perfect for her as Klaus was for Cheyenne? Klaus modelled a high standard.

  As she watched, he approached. He was certainly handsome, and she did feel special when she was with him. It was just everything that surrounded him. It truly made her feel uncomfortable, but then perhaps things got ugly when there was a fortune of that size involved.

  “Hello,” he said calmly as he reached her. “You look wonderful as always.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a smile. She did feel wonderful in the shimmery blue dress. Maybe to the point where she wanted him to see her divest herself of it.

  It was true that she never felt uneasy in his company. She felt beautiful and sexy, and there was nothing bad about that. All in all, she felt appreciated. Tristan worked hard to overcome the obstacles that were placed between them. Perhaps she should return the favour.

  “How are things with your sister?” she asked.

  “Awkward,” he responded. “But then when has my family not been?”

  “I understand she is here tonight.”

  “She wouldn’t miss a party like this. This is where she thrives, and where she does a good portion of her important business.” His eyes weren’t searching for his sister, instead remained with her. “I know this places you in an awkward position, being good friends with Persephone.”

  “I will endeavour not to get involved,” she said, recalling how Persephone had tried on a few occasions to warn her against her brother. As far as she’d seen, the relationship hadn’t impacted significantly on the friendship as such. As adults, they could keep friendships, relationships and legal matters compartmentalised. One thing didn’t need to affect the other.

  “Hello, Samara,” a deep, familiar voice said, and she froze. Obviously, she knew that voice, but hadn’t expected to hear it tonight. Or at all, in fact. Hassan.

  They hadn’t spoken since the divorce, or rather, since he’d abandoned the war between them. “Hassan,” she said as she turned. It was too much to ask for a smile, but she could be adult about this. What the fuck was he doing here? Was he back to finish the job he’d abandoned?

  A woman was with him. Tall and gorgeous, with perfect caramel skin and large, dark doe eyes. A model of some sort. Hassan picked according to beauty, and only the most beautiful would do. “This is a surprise. I hadn’t expected you would be here this evening.”

  “No? Thought I would drop in. I do still get qui
te a few invitations.” Hassan turned his cold attention on Tristan. “Mr. Barensteen, wonderful to see you again. I heard of your father’s passing. Great man.”

  “Yes. It was tragic,” Tristan said, which Samara knew was an absolute lie. Tristan felt nothing but relief at his horrid father’s passing. It suggested he and Hassan weren’t friends. She’d expected Tristan would have mentioned it if they were.

  Sneaking a peek over at Cheyenne, she observed her expression, which asked what the fuck he was doing there. It was amazing how Cheyenne could swear with her eyes. The long look also asked if she needed back up and Samara suggested no.

  “No, we thought we’d make a quick break to reacquaint ourselves with old friends,” Hassan said coolly. The statement said so many things. First of all, he used the term ‘we’, which suggested this woman was more than a date—even suggesting coming here had been an agreed action between them. Now that was absolutely not true. Hassan made all decisions, and that was that. But was he here to rub his new relationship in her face?

  Truthfully, she wouldn’t put it past him. Which begged the question if he knew about the relationship between her and Tristan. There wasn’t much he didn’t know, provided he paid attention, and she’d fervently been hoping he’d stopped paying attention.

  Now she felt sheer awkwardness, because what else was there to say? She had nothing good to say, nothing she hoped for him. All she wanted was his absence, but she certainly wasn’t going to stoop to bristling, or engage in any kind of verbal sparring with him. He would love that. What he especially wanted from his enemies was to see how frazzled they were.

  And being accosted by him like this, it played havoc with every nerve in her. The most unpleasant thing she could think of had just happened.

  “Oh, you made it,” Persephone said, approaching with a glass of champagne in her hand. “I wasn’t sure you would. Important men do have a tendency to be called away to more important things.”

  What in the world was she talking about, Samara wondered. It sounded as if Persephone and Hassan had spoken. Had maybe even invited him to the party. And what was the dig about more important things? Was Persephone an enemy? This certainly looked like it. What kind of person would do this to a friend?

  Then it occurred to her. This wasn’t about her. The dig about being important and being called away was a dig at Tristan. This was about making Tristan uncomfortable. And if it completely shat on her by dragging back her ex when they had by all appearance cut the cord between them, that was just collateral damage.

  How could Persephone do this to her? This was not the action of a friend. This was about making things uncomfortable and awkward for Tristan—with her horrendous ex husband. It couldn’t be that there were common interests between him and Hassan. This would make that relationship more uncomfortable. Maybe even to the point where it made their relationship untenable. Because Hassan would never be supportive of her moving on and being happy in another relationship. Hassan wanted her wailing in misery. That was how he played the game—total destruction.

  By these actions, Persephone was trying to destroy their relationship. Unfortunately it would do a lot more damage to Samara than Tristan. Didn’t she get that? Hassan wouldn’t be happy with just destroying the relationship. Persephone was destroying everything. How could she not get that?

  The woman avoiding her eyes proved she knew, and she didn’t care. But when it came to hurting her brother, their friendship meant nothing.

  Samara wanted to vomit, but she refused to show weakness in front of Hassan.

  “I wasn’t aware you knew each other,” Samara said specifically to Persephone, staring at her with such intensity, the woman had to acknowledge her. “My, it is a small world, isn’t it?”

  If nothing else, she wasn’t going to let Persephone off the hook for this. Persephone’s eyes showed her that she didn’t care. Bitch.

  Chapter 54

  SAMARA WAS DEFINITELY THROWN by her ex-husband’s arrival in Marbella. Tristan had seen it in her expression. There was certainly no love lost between the former pair.

  This had definitely been Persephone’s doing, his appearance at the party, and she’d done it to cause problems between them.

  Hassan slid off somewhere with his much too young companion. As Persephone had intended, the party had certainly taken a turn.

  “Do you wish to leave?” Tristan asked.

  “Frankly yes, but I will give it a moment. I’m not about to start having Hassan run me off.” Her expression was definitely worried.

  “Percy is out of line,” he said quietly, trying to think what he should do about it. It was grossly inappropriate behaviour, but then it was the last in a line of late of small, petty things. This was more than petty, though. “I will see to her.” And he intended on it. His sister’s behaviour deserved a severe dressing down. “Percy has a habit of doing whatever suits her purposes. For her ends, she doesn’t care who gets destroyed in the process. She’s very much like my father in that sense.”

  Samara was frowning, but she wasn’t engaging. “I am sick of people who smile in your face and then stab you in the back.”

  There was a certain softness to Samara, and he adored that about her. “Look, this isn’t important.”

  “Well, you don’t know Hassan that well,” she accused. “He has no limits, and apparently, neither does your sister. I thought she was my friend.”

  “Then you have learned what many know about her. She only has friends when it suits her purposes. But then she gets meaner when she’s on the defensive.

  Cheyenne and her German IT guru approached. “Well, that was something I didn’t foresee,” she said. “What did he say about his plans? He does have a habit of stating them,” she said dismissively.

  “He didn’t say.”

  “Don’t get rattled by this. It’s exactly what Persephone wants, to rattle us. She is doing this to make things awkward for us,” Tristan said, trying to convey that this was a stupid ploy.

  Samara looked annoyed. “How exactly do I have a bone in this fight?”

  “By being with me, by association. The more mess she can create around me, the more it suits her purposes. But don’t worry, she’s not the only one who can create waves.”

  “These stupid games impact other people’s lives.”

  In a sense, he wanted to tell her to stop being so sensitive. It was a skirmish. But it was that she cared that attracted him so much. It was the fact that she was so different from Percy and her ilk. Perhaps that annoyed his sister. It should. Compared to Samara, Percy was petty, mean and nasty. Could be he needed to point it out. It would be what Percy would loath to hear. “Believe me, the best offense with her is to attack the foundation of her arrogance.”

  Samara stared at him as if he’d said something unbelievable. She really was innocent. How in the world could she have been attached to someone like Hassan? Then again, some men went for innocence. He’d assumed it was confidence he’d responded to in Samara, but maybe that confidence had been based on naivety.

  “Somehow I think next week’s tennis match is out. Maybe we should suggest to her that Julia is looking for a playing partner. Bitch.”

  What remained to be seen was the kind of problem Hassan Azmer would turn himself into. Samara was clearly worried. Perhaps there was more to Percy’s strategy than to rattle Samara. Her intention could have been to bring Hassan into this fight.

  For a moment, he wondered how that could happen. Percy would clearly be mistaken if she believed he would leave his business open to the interference of Hassan Azmer. He wasn’t quite that stupid.

  Percy did achieve things with her little business, but maybe she assumed her small-time business experience would outwit his. That would be ludicrous. The one thing he’d had that she hadn’t, had been his father’s education in business. From the start, Tristan had been groomed for taking over the Barensteen businesses. Percy and Ludwina had been left to pursue whatever suited their fancy, and had suffere
d complete dismissal by their father as inconsequential to the ongoing concern that was the Barensteen name.

  What he and Percy hadn’t really discussed, beyond their father’s meanness, was that this was a test for him, not for them. He was expected to stick the knives into his sister’s guts to take the fortune. That was the real test. He’d known it from the moment his father’s plans had been mentioned, but he’d contrived to thwart him.

  Initially, he’d been open to an equitable distribution of the Barensteen wealth. Mostly in attempt to thwart his father. As it happened, Percy was the one who insisted on the original plan, so she would get exactly what she asked for.

  Percy got where she wanted by blunt instruments, a strong offensive, but she wouldn’t be particularly skilled at being defensive. That was her weakness, and to prove it, he’d ruin her business.

  It would be ridiculously easy to disrupt her supply lines. Pitting her paltry fashion business against him, only the mad wouldn’t succumb to the pressure. Things were about to get hard for Percy.

  “Don’t worry,” Tristan said to Samara with a smile. “I’ll take care of this.”

  “I don’t appreciate being a pawn in other people’s games.”

  Chapter 55

  “I HAVE TO SAY, THESE SOCIETY parties have the best plonk,” Trish said, taking a sip of her champagne and leaning back on a daybed.

  It had been a while since Solraya had been to a Marbella society party, and it hadn’t been something she’d expected to be at again, but Adelaide had invited them all, and they’d been more than happy to dress up.

  The architecturally designed house was lit up like a jewel, all sparkly with glass, chrome and mirrors, and nice gardens built for entertaining. Tonight it was being used for purpose, to impress.

  Not far away, Chrissy was talking to some investment banker, who was trying to impress her with his net worth in the hope she’d be swayed into sleeping with him tonight. And unfortunately, Chrissy tended to be impressed. At the heart of it, this was the crowd Chrissy wanted to run with.