by Ruby Rowe
“I think you haven’t brought anyone out here because you didn’t want them to know you listen to albums from the seventies.”
“You’re right, but they’re fucking amazing, and don’t dodge my question.”
“OK. I loved this song when I was little. My parents would put it on the record player for me, and I’d belt out the lyrics into the attached microphone. I’d do this for hours if I could, playing it over and over again. God, I loved this song.”
“It sounds like you have at least a few good memories from your childhood.” Not meaning to, my body tenses as I think about what he said. “You don’t have to talk about it. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“No, it’s OK. I want us to know each other better, so I need to be able to share about my past. My parents did mold my love for music, and I’m grateful for that.”
I smile broadly. “They’d blast rock and roll in the house and dance together. I imagine they were drunk or high at the time, but I’d watch and giggle as they twirled around the living room.”
My smile falters as the hellish memories overshadow the positive ones. “Then, my dad got hurt at work, and everything changed.
“That’s when music became an escape for me. When my folks fought, I’d get lost in the melody and lyrics. The noise would drown out their fights, and there were a lot of them.”
I lay my head against his chest. “I guess I was too young to remember all the good times, but Camilla said there weren’t many for me to miss.”
“I hate that for you.”
Placing my palm on his chest, I think about how much of my heart he’s taken from his kind words alone.
“I know you do, and it means everything to me. What made you love music?”
“My family has entertained a lot over the years, and with parties, you have booze, food and music. My mom played it in the house, too, and it was always blaring at frat parties and in the dorms.”
“I bet. I mean, I wouldn’t know personally, but I’ve seen it on television shows and movies.”
“I don’t like how your view of the world is based off bad experiences and TV shows. I want to give you the amazing life experiences you deserve.” With his arm wrapped around my legs, he squeezes them.
“You’re going to say you’ve been to Fiji, not that you saw a screensaver of it on television. Now, you living in dorms is a different story. No college guys need to be checking you out.”
Sitting up, I grin at him. “You do realize I’m going to college soon, right?”
“Yeah, but that’s different than living on campus. I think, anyway.” Watching him grimace, I smother his pouty lips with a kiss. It turns passionate in a few pounding beats of my heart, and I want him again. Will this insatiable desire ever end?
I climb off his lap and open his legs. Tilting my eyes up at him, I get down on my knees and tug on his shorts.
“I think I need to show you that I have no intentions of flirting with college guys.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Then help me pull down your shorts.”
Greyson
I’m about to get a blowjob on a weekday afternoon by the woman I love, and to top it off, we’re at my favorite getaway, where no one can find us.
I lift my hips for her, and she yanks my athletic shorts down my legs. She grasps my cock, and in mere seconds, it’s inside her hot mouth.
“Holy shit,” I hiss. Once her lips reach the base of my shaft, all I can think about is keeping them there.
I shove my fingers into her hair and grip it, and like her mouth, it’s hot to the touch from where the sun has warmed it. Her silky golden highlights could slip through my fingers if I weren’t clutching them for dear life.
She brings her lips up but slides them right back down, and each time is better than the last. A moan hums from her mouth, and I buck from the intense feel of it on my dick.
She’s turned on, and it makes me want to feel her wet pussy around my cock, all tight like her fucking mouth that’s sucking me dry.
I pull her off, and it’s the hardest thing to do. Her eyes grow round as she wipes her mouth.
“You’re doing great, but I need to see you naked and riding me.” Smiling bashfully, she stands and strips off her top and shorts. Teasing me, she undoes her bra next and slowly peels it off, along with her panties.
I’m dying to feel her on my cock, but I can’t take my eyes off how angelic she appears naked in the sun on my damn deck. Her cognac eyes are bold against the sea of Douglas firs in the backdrop.
She walks toward me coyly, unlike the girl who was just sucking me off. Once she’s close enough for me to touch, I grip her waist and help bring her onto my lap. She sinks right down on my cock, and I fucking knew it.
“So wet,” I mutter.
“It feels so good when you’re inside me.” I don’t have to prompt her to move. She rides me as I hold on to her hips, and the pleasure floods me once again, seeming more intense than when she was blowing me.
We get into a rhythm, and I feel the exhilarating high, the mountain we’re both climbing.
As she bounces, I manage to get a hold of a nipple. The pink bud is rigid in my mouth, and I suck it until she’s crying out my name. The erotic sounds fuel me to grab hold of her tit and flick her nipple with my tongue.
She becomes shameless with her moans, and as her muscles contract, I realize we’re both about to erupt.
I clench her hips again and thrust upward harder and deeper until she’s spasming around my cock, draining it dry along with draining the blood from my brain. I let my head fall back as the cataclysmic orgasm starves me of oxygen.
I feel Sasha’s hair on my face, her body against me and the sun beating down on us, but I’m dead to the world, unable to move. The music has ended, and all I hear is our laborious breathing.
“Greyson,” Sasha whispers. Unable to speak, I exhale a grunt. Her fingers skim over my lips before I feel her breath tickle my ear. “I love you. Thank you for helping me become whole.”
Finding the energy to lift my head, I pull her closer and bury my head against the crook of her neck. If she only knew how whole she’s making me.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sasha
It’s been a long Monday morning by the time Greyson stops by my office.
“I’m leaving for the luncheon. Are you sure you’re good to grab something?”
“Yep. That’s why I drove separately.” I manage a smile, but I want to scowl at him. Mr. Burke has taken protectiveness to a whole new level since we consummated our relationship this weekend.
I thought he wanted me to be strong and independent, but I’m beginning to wonder. Each time I take another step in that direction, he exhibits more signs of insecurity.
“OK. I’ll be back by four-thirty. We can leave your car here this evening if you’d like.”
“Why? Then, we’d need to drive it home tomorrow.”
His forehead wrinkles. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He strolls over and leans across my desk to give me a kiss. “Text if you need me.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine for the next five hours.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now, go before you’re late.” He leaves my office, and I exhale a lengthy breath. Opening my desk drawer, I pull out a bag of Skittles and throw down the rainbow of colors like they’re crack.
I need out of here. I need a break from everything Greyson, and I feel like shit for even thinking it.
I grab my purse and head down the hall to Terrence’s office.
“Hey, Greyson left for that urban business seminar slash luncheon thingy. Want to grab lunch with me?”
“Sure.”
“I’d love to drive if you don’t mind. I hardly get the chance.”
“No problem, but do you care if we run a work errand first?”
“As long as I get some fresh air, I’m good with whatever.”
Terrence stands and adjusts his pale blue tie
over his white shirt. We’re kind of matchy–matchy today since I’m wearing a light blue blouse and white pencil skirt.
“You have to change first,” I say with a grin. He glances down at his clothes and then at mine.
“No, you need to change. I plan my wardrobe for the upcoming week on Saturday mornings.”
“Damn, yeah, you got me beat. I guess I’ll have to deal with it.” I nudge my shoulder against his as we walk to the front of the building.
“You should ask Kaylie if she wants to grab lunch, too.”
“Yeah, I guess I could use another girlfriend.” I giggle, and Terrence slams his shoulder against mine this time, causing me to stumble in my pumps. I swear we’re like siblings.
We push through the doors that lead into the lobby.
“Kaylie, want to go to lunch with us?” I ask.
“I wish I could, but I have to take my break after Rhonda gets back so she can man the phones.” Her dark hair is in a messy bun atop her head, and she’s not wearing makeup today.
For once, I’m more put together than her, and although I’m not trying to outdo anyone, it makes me proud that I’m taking good care of myself. It’s a far cry from my raggedy clothes and the greasy hair I never felt like washing.
We get inside my white BMW, and I shift it into drive.
“Where are we going?”
“To East Colfax.”
“Uh, where on Colfax?”
“Here, I’ll put the address into your GPS.”
Colfax… Hearing the name sends chills down my spine. Camilla’s old apartment was off Colfax and so were the shitty drug houses I got high in with Rusty and our friends.
Terrence rattles on about Quinton, a vacation they’re taking soon, and other stuff I can’t help but tune out. Every mile closer to our destination, my panic increases, and it’s consuming me.
“Why are we going to this address?”
“Greyson told me to check out the property to see if there’s any hope for it. He’s been wanting to revitalize some areas.”
“But why here?”
“He seems determined to clean up the rundown parts of the city, but that’s no small feat. I guess it’s good publicity, though.”
The woman’s voice from the GPS tells me through the car speakers to make a left. No, this can’t be right.
Feeling my throat constrict, I turn the air conditioning up and make a left turn into the apartment complex where I’ve made nothing but bad decisions. I don’t want a blatant reminder of that girl.
“You all right over there?”
“Yeah, I’m suddenly hot.”
“You’re pastier than usual, too, girl.”
“I’ve been here before. It’s a bad place.”
“Oh, do we need to leave?”
“We should, but I want to know exactly where Greyson sent you.”
“Ah, shit. I bet you weren’t supposed to know about this, and the man’s already stewing over how I took you lingerie shopping.”
“Yeah, I have a strong suspicion I was to be kept in the dark about this.” I drive past the rusty brick buildings, and they all look the same, each and every one.
I think that’s what makes old apartment complexes unattractive. There’s not a shred of hope that any one building will look better than another.
Junk cars fill the parking spaces. Bald tires, missing rims and cracked windshields can also be seen.
There are too many vehicles in the complex, too, for a Monday at noon, meaning a lot of the residents don’t work. I’m not making assumptions here; I know it because I lived it.
There are lawn chairs on some of the concrete slabs by the doors since the tenants aren’t supposed to smoke inside, but I think they mainly sit in them because the air conditioning sucks from age, so it’s cooler outside than in.
Tears prick my eyes, and I gasp for breath as the woman’s monotone voice comes through the speakers again. You’ve arrived at your destination, which is hell on earth. Abort. Abort.
Surely, that’s what she meant to say, but instead, she gives us Camilla’s old address, and I reluctantly pull into the parking spot.
It didn’t seem so bad when we lived here, but now that we’re immersed in luxury, it truly looks like hell on earth. God, I can’t believe we let Liam live here, but I’d never tell Camilla that. She did the very best she could, and I love her for it.
My head falls over and I cry, my chest bouncing from the sobs I let escape. I feel Terrence’s hand weave with mine.
“Sweetheart, what’s happening? What is this place to you?”
“It used to be my home. I can’t believe he sent you here. He must’ve gotten the address from his cousin Ellis.”
“You lived here?” Disgust and shock drip from his words like rabid saliva or the thickest vomit.
“I know. I can’t believe it, either.”
“Fuck, girl. I guarantee I wasn’t supposed to bring you here. I’m getting canned for this. I know it. After watching how he treats you like a princess, he’s going to hand me my ass.”
Terrence is sweating like me, and he pulls his hand away to run it over his pants leg.
“No, I’ll handle it. You had no idea.”
“He must want to make this place better or demolish it. It’s a pretty sweet gesture either way.”
I wipe my eyes and brave another look at the place. I recall the last night I was here, and I cringe as I think about how Ellis carried me out of this hellhole while I was strung out. It’s humiliating.
“Is it even safe for us to be here?” he asks.
“I don’t know. In this car, we’re going to draw attention.” A hard knock on the driver’s side window causes both of us to jump.
I turn my head and Rusty... God, no. He’s staring back at me with a sinister smile. His crooked teeth are still yellow, and his droopy eyes still match his dirty, dark hair.
I jerk the gear shift into reverse, but he slams his hands down on top of the BMW, startling me once again.
“You open this fucking window, Sasha. We’re talking.”
“Like hell we are!” I shout.
“If you don’t want me to go back to that mansion your sister’s living in, then you better roll down this window.”
Go back? When was he ever there? Curiosity gets the best of me, so I barely crack the window open.
“What do you mean you’ll go back?”
“I went there, and her rich boyfriend was eager to hand over cash to keep my mouth shut about that secret of yours.”
“How much money did he give you?”
“Ten grand. He thought I was getting sent up, but the cash got me out of it. The thing is, I could use some more.”
“Go to hell, Rusty.”
“Look around, Sasha.” He holds his hands out and glances at the complex he’s still living in. “We’re already there, and I can’t help but wonder why you’d show your face when you’re obviously living the sweet life now. Were you wanting to show off this luxury ride, or was it your new fairy friend here?”
“Fuck you!” Terrence yells. I roll the window back up before things go from bad to worse, and Rusty smacks a palm against the glass and glares.
“I’ll find you, baby. I always do.”
Shaking, I grab the gear shift and stare at it.
“It’s in reverse already. Drive,” Terrence says. Gathering my wits, I slam my foot on the gas, not even looking behind me as we barrel backward.
“Shit!” I swing my head back to look over my shoulder once I realize how far I’ve gone, and thankfully, no one was behind us. I shift hard into drive and tear off out of the parking lot.
“I’m going to kill that boyfriend of yours for telling me to come here. That bastard back there looked evil.”
“He is, and what he said is true. I don’t know how, but he’ll find me.” As soon as we’re back on Colfax Ave., I cover my chest.
“Terrence, you can’t tell Greyson about this. That guy was Rusty, my ex, and if Greyson fin
ds out, he’ll never let it go. He’s already over-the-top protective.
“He’ll hunt Rusty down and end up in trouble. I can’t handle it. That life was supposed to stay in my past, and that’s where we’re keeping this incident. Do you understand me? Don’t tell him I was here with you.”
He holds his hands up. “No problem there. I don’t want him to know, either. I’d like to keep my damn job.”
“He seems to think it’s fine to keep secrets, so I’m keeping this one from him. It’s the best for everyone involved.”
My phone rings, so I reach inside my purse to find it.
“Hello,” I say rudely.
“Sasha, it’s Ellis. Is everything OK? You sound flustered.”
“Um, yeah. I’m going to have to call you back, though. Wait, is Camilla OK?”
“Actually, I need you to come over here after work. She’s, uh, not feeling well after her doctor’s appointment and could use her sister.”
“Sure,” I say. “I’ll be over then. I want to chat with you about something, anyway.”
“You sound angry … and out of breath.”
“We’ll talk later.” I hang up on him and drop the phone back inside my purse.
“I think I’m going to have to pass on lunch. I need to vomit up a bag of Skittles instead.” I drive back to the office, and neither one of us says a word.
We both want to forget the nightmare we experienced, but I know I won’t be able to. It’s going to haunt me like every other miserable memory from my past.
Camilla
“Ms. Rose, I made you some chamomile tea,” Irene says. I manage to lift my head off the bed to look toward the door. I think I see Ellis behind her before he ducks out of sight. “Can I come in and bring it to you?” she asks in her thick Italian accent.
“Sure.” Sitting up on the side of the bed in the master bedroom, I wipe my nose with the old tissue I’ve overused since we arrived home from my obstetrician’s appointment.
Irene walks over in her black maid’s dress and sets down an oval silver tray on my nightstand. As she pours tea from a small tea pot, I straighten my auburn hair and cream blouse.