********
Tuesday afternoon, I pop into Ellie’s and eat a sandwich sat up at the counter to enable me to chat to her as she worked.
‘So, Nate called,’ she placed a pot of tea in front of me, her gaze flickering to mine, measuring my response.
‘That’s nice of him,’ I mutter, sarcastically, as I bite into my tuna sandwich.
‘He asked me to tell you he is back on Thursday, and asked whether you could carve out some time for him to discuss Oliver,’ She recites, cautiously.
‘I’m flying to Boston tonight,’ I notify her.
‘Boston?’ She mumbles, ‘you coming back?’ Her face is blank, seemingly shocked by my announcement.
‘Yes,’ I nod as I chew, ‘be back Friday.’
‘Sophie,’ Ellie scolds me, ‘you have to start using full sentences.’
‘I’m eating, El,’ I put down my sandwich and faced my new friend. ‘I don’t want to make a big deal, but it’s Oliver’s funeral,’ I express. ‘My dad wouldn’t allow me to lay him to rest in Krystal, so I am flying out to Boston. Not that he’s invited me, of course,’ I mutter, as I pick up the stray pieces of tuna salad with a fork.
‘Oh, honey,’ she whispers, her sapphire blue eyes, identical to Nate’s, regard me empathetically.
‘It’s fine,’ I express, ‘I don’t want to talk about it, I just want it over.’ I announce, matter of fact. ‘My dad doesn’t want me to go,’ I confide. ‘But I should be allowed to say goodbye, right?’ Tears blur my vision. ‘Can anyone stop you from attending a funeral?’ I ask.
Ellie’s hand covers mine, ‘no Sophie, you stand by what you believe in, doll,’ she whispers, ‘you want me to come with?’ She offers.
‘You would as well, wouldn’t you?’ I sniff back a tear at the kindness and friendship this woman has offered me from day one.
‘Of course,’ she frowns, as if the idea of me doubting that for a minute, is preposterous.
‘Thank you, Ellie,’ I smile weakly. ‘But, no, I need to do this alone. I need to face my father and tell him exactly what I think of him.’ I tell her, a quiver in my voice.
Ellie nods, ‘okay, babe. You need me, you call, okay?’
‘Thanks, El.’ I feel so blessed to have met Ellie Austin. She’s known me for a couple of weeks and has already adopted me as one of her own. The sadness that brought me to Krystal somehow being compensated by the depth of kindness in its occupants.
********
As I walk into the chapel of the crematorium, my heart is beating erratically. I dressed carefully in a black pencil dress and high strappy nude sandals. The weather is hot and humid, stormy even, and I can tell it’s going to be an uncomfortable day in more ways than one.
I ignore the curious glances from various strangers, also dressed in various degrees of black, and take a seat on the third row, where there is a gap. I clasp my hands together in my lap and swallow down the lump that is already forming in my throat. Laying in a maple coffin to the front of the chapel is my brother, at the age of thirty-six, lifeless, his life ending before it began. Someone sits beside me, I feel the current between us and turn abruptly into a pair of soft sapphire eyes.
‘Hey,’ Nate whispers, sliding an arm across the back of the wooden bench.
‘Hi,’ I breathe, never more grateful to see his handsome, friendly face. ‘How are you here?’
‘Ssshhh,’ he tucks me into his side, supportively, as the service begins.
Sending Nate, a warm, appreciative smile, I avert my attention to my father’s profile. He seems totally unaffected by his surroundings as he sits there dressed in an expensive suit, his greying hair swept back from his strong forehead and jaw. Ollie had shown me pictures of him and described the character of our dad, but I hadn’t seen him for myself, like ever! How sad is that?
Meeting Ollie for the first time, I knew we had a connection, we both sensed it. It was as if somehow we were linked, despite our separation, as if deep inside, our souls were familiar. With my dad, that wasn’t the case at all, he was a stranger and I had no profound urge or inclination to know him better.
When I was younger, my grandparents asked whether I wanted to visit him, I declined. I knew it wasn’t my father that extended the invitation because I had heard my grandma cursing him to my grandad, late one night when they thought I was asleep.
‘How can he not want to know her? Our baby’s, baby?’ Grandma had cried.
‘It’s his loss,’ my granddad had expressed. ‘He was always a cold fish. The only reason he kept Oliver, was to pass down the business to him,’ my granddad had cursed. ‘Sophie is better off not knowing him.’
That was the second time my father rejected me.
Throughout the entire service, the knowledge that Nate’s warm body was pushed up beside me kept me from falling apart at the seams. The tears had flowed, and he had pulled me closer to him, his mouth at my hair as he whispered endearments. I couldn’t fathom his presence or have the strength to turn him away, right now, he was my protector.
When the coffin disappeared behind a curtain, the crowd stood to allow my father, and a handful of people that I didn’t recognise, to leave the chapel before the rest of us departed. As he turned, his eyes found mine, and I watched as he physically blanched. He recovered well, his face instantly returning to an unemotional mask as he exited the building without a word.
Nate guided me out, his hand on my lower back until we found ourselves standing amongst the crowd of mourners that gathered outside. There was a mixture of attendees, young and old, the majority of them surrounding my father, eager for a piece of his attention and pandering to his every demand.
‘You okay?’ Nate whispered down to me.
‘Thank you,’ I smiled up into his concerned face, ‘for being here, I don’t understand why you are, but I’m glad you are, nevertheless.’
His hand curved my nape and squeezed in response, but his eyes flared with affection. Our gaze clashed and held, in silent communication.
‘Excuse me,’ a man, approximately mid-thirty in age stopped before us, dark hair, pretty green eyes. ‘Are you Sophie?’ He asked.
‘Yes!’ I felt Nate step closer to me, his hand curving around my hip in a possessive gesture. I stepped into his warmth. ‘Sorry, I don’t know you,’ I apologised.
He eyed Nate for a second with a hint of amusement before returning his gaze to mine. ‘I’m Carl,’ he holds out his hand. ‘I was a friend of Ollies. He told me all about you, and I have to say the resemblance is uncanny,’ he comments, as his gaze roams my features. ‘The eyes,’ he deduces.
I smile, ‘why thank you. We apparently inherited our eyes from our mother.’ I turn to Nate, ‘this is a friend of mine, Nate,’ I introduce the two men. Nates eyes take on a hooded stare as he evaluated the man standing before us.
Carl holds out a hand to Nate, which meant he had to release his hold on me, but as soon as Carl releases his grip, he moves back to me. We chat casually with Carl, as he recites a few tales of him and Ollie in their college days, before I sense my father’s presence.
I tense, and Nate squeezes my waist reassuringly.
‘Sophia,’ he mutters.
‘Actually, my name is Sophie,’ I announce, ice evident in my tone. How the fuck can he forget my name?
‘Yes, of course,’ he fidgets uncomfortably. ‘I did express there was no need for you to attend,’ he continues, his cold grey eyes penetrating mine.
‘Unfortunately, that isn’t something you decide,’ Nate growls from beside me.
‘Excuse me, I was talking to my daughter,’ he pins Nate with a glare so glacial, you can almost see the icicles dripping from it.
‘Your daughter?’ Nate’s voice is dangerously low. ‘No, man. You don’t get the privilege of that label.’
‘What the hell do you know?’ Dad growls to Nate.
‘You’d be surprised what I know, Mr. Parker,’ Nate lifts his jacket to expose his police badge snapped on his belt. ‘In fact, e
xpect a visit real soon to discuss the events that led to your son’s death,’ he threatens.
My father holds Nate’s all-pervading stare for a few more seconds before his cheeks flush. ‘I’ll look forward to it, Mr?’
‘Detective Nathan Austin,’ Nate notifies him, ‘Denver Police Department.’
‘You have no jurisdiction here, Mr. Austin,’ dad provides an evil smirk as if the information has provided a shield for him to hide behind. Does Nate seriously believe that my father has something to do with Ollie’s death? Ice runs through my veins.
‘I have jurisdiction wherever my leads take me, Mr. Parker.’ Nate updates him, ‘it just so happens that I have been in Boston for three days investigating your son’s homicide.’ He notifies him.
My father’s gaze falls to mine, his face impassive, before he responds. ‘Investigate away, Mr. Austin.’
As we walk towards the car park, I hiss to Nate, ‘you think he had something to do with Ollies murder?’
‘Not here, London,’ he opens the passenger door of a black SUV, and I climb in. When he settles beside me, I turn to him questioningly. ‘I can’t tell you, Sophie; you know that. Just be assured I am as eager as you to wrap this up,’ he pulls out of the car park and drives into the awaiting traffic.
‘You do know that once this is solved, I’m going home to London?’ I advise him.
His eyes hold mine for a moment before darkening, ‘where are you staying?’
‘Boston Park Plaza,’ I announce, shakily, my brain still processing my father’s behaviour.
********
Chapter Six
Nate escorts me through the reception area of the sleek hotel foyer and towards the lift. He has respectfully worn a navy suit, over a white shirt, that only enhances the colour of his magnificent eyes. I watch as he bends and presses the button to call the lift, my eyes lingering on his long fingers. We have barely uttered a word since our conversation that ended with me telling Nate I was leaving as soon as Ollie’s murder was solved.
We step into the awaiting shaft and move backwards as another couple enters with a polite greeting. Nate holds out his hand for the key card to my room, and I naturally pass it to him.
As soon as our feet hit the carpeted floors of the small, double room, he shrugs off his jacket, placing it over the chair set beside the desk. I drop my handbag onto the bed and walk towards him. He is wearing a holster that contains a firearm and for a moment I just stare at the gun, never before being so close to something so dangerous. His hand extracts it from the holder, and he places it gently on the desk.
‘We need to talk,’ Nate murmurs, softly.
‘Okay,’ I nod.
His glance falls to my lips, and my tongue automatically moves out to moisten them, his eyes flare with a light I recognise as desire.
‘Fuck this!’ he strides forward and cups my jaw with both of his hands, crushing his lips to mine with bruising force. I whimper as his teeth suck and nibble, delving, exploring the depths of my mouth.
I push myself against his firm body, groaning deep in my throat at the sensations that are trickling through my veins. I know nothing other than how he makes me feel, my hands explore the flexed muscles of his back as he pushes me roughly against the door. I feel his erection at my abdomen and grind against it, wantonly.
‘Jesus, fuck, London,’ he groans against my lips, ‘I can’t stay away,’ he admits, one of his hands travel to my waist and slide up, his thumb brushing my puckered nipple.
‘Want you,’ I pant, nibbling his full bottom lip.
His eyes are black with desire as he regards me for a split second, ‘you sure you want this?’ He checks.
‘Nate,’ I breathe, ‘please,’ I beg.
His hands move behind me to unzip me before moving down to gather the ends of my dress and pull it up to expose my black lace thong. ‘Those fucking legs go on for ever,’ he growls as he eases the dress over my head and off, leaving me with nothing but the black lace of my underwear. Dropping to his knees, he pulls down the scrap of lace covering my sex and encourages me to step out of them. He glances up into my flushed face, his eyes alight with longing. Pushing one of my legs over his shoulder, he moves in to kiss a trail from my inner thigh up to my wetness.
‘Bloody hell,’ I whisper as he sucks hard on my wetness.
‘Fuck, you taste like heaven,’ he growls against my swollen lips.
I grasp a handful of his hair with one hand and hold onto the door frame with the other as my body purrs with delight. I pull tight against the strands of his soft hair as his tongue fucks me deep.
‘God, Nate,’ my voice sounds breathy even to my own ears. I grind my hips against his tongue as he laps up my juices. My body is humming with pleasure as I feel his fingers plunge deep inside, ‘Oh my,’ I purr, as he sucks in my clitoris and swirls his tongue around the hardened nub over and over. My body is climbing high, building for a release.
‘Come for me, baby,’ he growls, as his tongue sucks in my clitoris, hard.
‘Oh fuck,’ I gasp, as my body soars uncontrollably and I am drenched in pleasure, my legs buckling beneath me. If it wasn’t for Nate’s hands taking my weight, I know I would be a puddle of goo on the carpet.
‘Fuck!’ He stands, his hands clasp my thighs and lift until my legs wrap around his waist. I push down against the evident bulge in his trousers.
‘You on the pill?’ He probes.
‘Yeah,’ I whimper, the aftershocks of my release still shuddering through the length of my body. ‘But you’re a man-whore,’ I pant.
‘I’m clean,’ he releases his erection, and immediately plunges deep inside me, stopping to absorb the pleasure as his eyes meet mine. ‘Fuck, that feels so good,’ he whispers, his body tense. ‘I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you,’ his teeth nibble my neck, ‘you with the huge hazel eyes and legs that go on for infinity.’
‘Move,’ I command, my body craving his with a need that is foreign to me.
He complies. He pounds me hard against the door of my hotel room, the thudding of my body slamming hard against the wood, which only enhances the desire.
‘More,’ I demand, not being able to satisfy the ache of lust that sits deep inside me.
Lifting me away from the door he travels over to the bed, leaning my back against the mattress, my legs still wrapped around his waist, ‘hold on,’ he pants, grasping my hips and fucks me downwards, the depth of his thrusts immediately creating a building within me.
‘Oh god, I’m going to come,’ I cry out, as it feels like a million particles of gratification shower over me simultaneously as he plants deep, stroking himself dry.
We roll onto the bed, still connected, as we attempt to calm our erratic breaths.
After a few minutes, I giggle. ‘I’m surprised that no one complained about the noise,’ I murmur, breathlessly.
Nate chuckles, ‘fuck, London! You certainly know how to fuck.’
‘That felt good,’ I confess.
‘I could tell,’ he rolls on top of me and glances down, ‘you okay?’
‘Yeah,’ I wrap my arms around his neck. ‘You’re safe, no regrets,’ I assure him.
He nods, ‘good to hear,’ he runs his nose down my jaw, ‘want to clean up?’
‘Yeah, then I want to explore some more. I intend on taking full advantage of you before I leave.’
His grin is sensational, ‘thank fuck,’ he drops his lips to mine.
********
It is nine at night, and we have spent the entire afternoon in bed discovering every inch of each other’s body. We ordered room service before we showered, the shower led to other things, which meant we didn’t hear the waiter either knock on the door or transport the food on the trolley into the room. This also meant that whoever delivered our food, were privy to our very loud sex through the opened doorway of the bathroom.
I was mortified to think that a member of staff had listened, and possibly witnessed for themselves the erratic fucking t
hat transpired in the double shower cubicle. Nate, however, found it incredibly amusing, that was until I notified him that they must have seen my naked body. A frown had then furrowed his brow, and his jaw became tense.
‘Fucking perverts,’ he had growled.
After seeing the anger evident on his features, I had then seen the funny side and rolled around the bed, the mortification instantly being replaced with laughter.
‘Are you the possessive kind?’ I had questioned, teasingly.
‘No!’ He had shaken his head adamantly, ‘never!’
I’m not convinced, ‘Nate!’
‘I’m not,’ he insists.
‘What’s happening with the blonde from Jessie’s?’ I ask, casually.
He glowers, ‘my sister needs to be a little more discreet.’
‘Relax, I’ll disappear in a few weeks, I know what this is,’ I turn and face him. ‘I would hate for anyone to get hurt, Nate. The blonde for example,’ I murmur, earnestly. ‘Plus, I wouldn’t want to ruin anything for you. Not for the sake of my own selfish needs.’
‘You are not ruining anything for me, I’m a free agent and intend on remaining that way,’ he confesses.
‘Forever?’ I test.
He shrugs, ‘if that changes, I guess I’ll know, but nothing has so far persuaded me to revisit anything permanent.’
‘Revisit?’ I challenge, ‘so you have visited it before?’
He glances at me assessing, before replying, ‘I was married, out of university. Didn’t work out, I’m now divorced. I prefer it that way.’
‘Want to talk about it?’ I check.
‘Nope!’ He expresses adamantly.
‘Okay, I guess you’ve been in love then,’ I press.
‘I thought we just decided we wasn’t going to discuss it,’ his lips tilt, ironically.
‘Sorry,’ I smile, ‘just the once?’
He rolls his eyes, ‘I guess we are discussing this, yeah, just the once,’ he finally confesses.
I nod, ‘okay.’
‘You?’ He queries.
‘Ever been in love?’ I question, he nods. ‘No!’ I confide, ‘I can honestly say I have never been in love.’
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