Broken Truth

by Beth Ashworth

  Amelia, completely oblivious that the music wasn’t playing any longer, continued to dance happily by herself in the corner of the room. Lucy on the other hand was now sitting on the sofa looking an unsightly shade of yellowish green.

  “Come on,” Charlie said offering her hand. “Let’s get you upstairs before you throw up all over the place.”

  Trying to get a drunken best friend up the stairs when she was already a little drunk herself wasn’t the greatest idea that Charlie had ever come up with. After finally leaving a fully clothed Lucy collapsed on one of the guest beds, Charlie figured that Amelia would eventually make her own way upstairs.

  Weaving her way along the corridor, Charlie managed to successfully locate the master suite. Casually throwing her mobile phone somewhere near the bed, she staggered her way into the adjoining en-suite, mustering just enough energy to remove her contact lenses and brush her teeth.

  Walking back into the darkened bedroom, Charlie’s eyes zoomed instantly towards the aggressive flashing of her mobile phone on the bed. Knowing it was most likely Callum calling, she moved quickly in an attempt to reach the device before he hung up.

  In her haste to answer the call, Charlie managed to kick the corner of the large white leather bed frame with force. “Fuck!” She cursed loudly as a shooting pain slowly erupted in the lower half of her foot. Gripping hold of her toes to try and stop the relentless throbbing, Charlie collapsed backwards onto the bed. With her free hand she reached across to pick up her mobile phone which had annoyingly stopped ringing.

  Lighting up her home screen, she unsuccessfully tried to squint at the missed call and number displayed. Normally without wearing glasses or contact lenses her vision was partially sighted, however when she threw alcohol into the mix Charlie became practically blind.

  “Please call back,” she begged towards her phone, hoping that somehow the caller would be able to hear her.

  Knowing that she was not in a fit state to be able to get up and look for her glasses, she held on to the hope that the mysterious caller would ring back.

  As if hearing her plea, the phone in Charlie’s hand started flashing again. Sliding her tongue across her parted lips to wet them, she raised the phone up to her ear. “Hello?” She tried to answer with as much seductive edginess to her voice as she could muster.

  “Why are you sending pictures of your tits to my phone?”

  Wincing, Charlie pulled the phone away from her ear as the piercing shriek of her sister’s voice shot through her head like the sound of a glass panel shattering into a millions of little pieces.

  “Don’t shout at me,” she moaned, clasping her hand to her head.

  “Have you been drinking?” Emma demanded with a hint of disgust.

  Rolling her eyes, Charlie stuck two fingers up to the sky in a silent ‘fuck you’ to her sister. She was twenty seven years old and didn’t need to be told what she could and couldn’t do.

  “Charlie,” Emma continued to prompt.

  “God, you are so like Mum. You don’t drop anything do you,” Charlie fired back.

  “Answer the question!”

  “Yes! I had a fucking drink, Emma. Is that alright?” She noted the sudden volume increase in her voice as she spoke. “I’m not a child. If I want to have a drink then I will damn well have one.”

  Silence came through the other end of the phone.

  Charlie knew straight away that her sister was counting to ten silently in her head. Having used the same technique since she was a teenager, it was Emma’s way of regaining control of the situation.

  “You know how I feel about alcohol,” she eventually sighed. “I just don’t like the stuff and what it does to people. The last thing I want is for you to go through what he did.”

  Charlie sucked in a violent breath at the card Emma played. It was a touchy subject not just for them, but for the entire family as a whole.

  Having witnessed their father slowly drinking away his problems each night and narrowly missing death, it was safe to say that alcohol was a bad omen for the family whilst both Emma and Charlie were growing up.

  “Leave it now,” Charlie spat, her blood beginning to boil. “Why do you always bring this shit up? You should be proud of Dad for what he’s done. He fought through his problems and he is a changed man now. Alcohol doesn’t affect everyone the same you know, there is this little thing called M.O.D.E.R.A.S.H.U.N,” she pronounced.

  “Right...” Emma replied sarcastically. “Is that why you’re sending me pictures of your tits and you can’t spell correctly?”

  “That was a complete accident. I was supposed to send that to Callum,” Charlie defended. “Now, if you’ve got nothing nice to say to me then you’d better go.”

  Charlie heard a loud huff before the phone call disconnected.

  Her relationship with Emma had been strained for a long time, especially during their father’s alcoholic period. Unfortunately, they had never managed to repair the damage done between them much to their mother’s dismay.

  As far as Charlie was concerned, her sister was a bitch. She was married to the snobby bastard that was Dr Harrison Lyle; a consultant cardiologist for the Manchester Royal Infirmary.

  She hated them both, so she decided that she was more than happy for her sister to live in her little bubble as long as she stayed the hell away from her.

  Five

  “How much did you guys have last night?” Xavier chuckled as he placed a small packet of paracetamol and a glass of water in front of her.

  Slumped behind the till counter with her head resting on her lower arms, Charlie moaned groggily. “I don’t know, maybe two or three?”

  “Glasses?” Xavier laughed. “Girl, you need to stop being such a lightweight.”

  “Not glasses, Avi. We had bottles,” she corrected as she flexed her right hand impatiently towards him. “Give me drugs,” she demanded. “My head is killing me.”

  Xavier shook his head with a smile as he placed two tablets into her outstretched hand. Sitting up a little, Charlie popped both of the tablets into her mouth and took a long gulp of water. Swallowing them down, she groaned out loud again before resuming her earlier slumped position.

  “It’s a good job it’s just us working today,” he said, pushing a tendril of hair from her face. “Imogen would have your arse on a chopping block if she could see the way you looked right now.”

  “Avi…” Charlie said as she lifted a finger and pressed it to his lips. “Shush, will you?”

  With one hand placed on his hip and the other ruffling his well-groomed hair, Xavier narrowed his eyes. “Just because you have a hangover, don’t think you can treat me like shit,” he admonished, turning his back on her. As he stalked away, Charlie started her usual countdown in her head. By the time she reached seven, Xavier had flicked a glance over his shoulder. “Biatch,” he smirked heading into the backroom.

  The tinkling sound of the shop door opening had Charlie’s head lifting in panic. Running her fingers through her hair she tried to tame her wild and unruly locks in an attempt at looking at least semi-presentable.

  Today’s attire was nowhere near Charlie’s usual perfection when it came to dressing for work. Feeling tired and extremely hungover this morning, Charlie had stared at her large walk in wardrobe with complete disgust. After throwing the majority of the contents to the floor, she did eventually settle on a pair of fitted black trousers and a plain white ruffled blouse. She knew from the look on Xavier’s face as she walked into work that her look screamed office support rather than up-market fashion stylist.

  “It’s only me.”

  She visibly relaxed as she heard the reassuring sound of Lucy’s voice approaching.

  Popping out from behind the counter, Charlie greeted her with a hug. She looked beautiful as usual with her makeup flawlessly applied and not a single hair out of place. Clearly her best friend could handle her alcohol as judged by her more than immaculate presentation. There wasn’t a grumble or headache
in sight from what she could see.

  “Jesus, Charlie. What the hell are you wearing?” Lucy gasped and moved backwards to take in her full body appearance. “What the hell happened?” she asked, her expression stunned.

  Charlie’s gaze flitted down to her feet in embarrassment as she shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. “I have a hangover,” she half mumbled and half whined.

  “Whatever,” Lucy dismissed with a flick of her wrist. “That excuse is shit and you know it. Hangover or not, you always need to make an effort at work. God, if Imogen caught you in that today she’d kill you.”

  “I’m feeling you, girl. That is exactly what I told her,” Xavier explained, walking back onto the shop floor towards them. “Why don’t you just get something off the rack to wear?” He suggested, looking around the shop at the more fashionable attire. “If not for your sake then please do it for ours.”

  “You bastards,” she grumbled, placing a hand against her pounding head. She could already tell that today was going to be hard work, especially with Xavier and Lucy choosing to double-team her.

  Sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar, Charlie nervously tapped her fingers against the white granite counter top whilst watching the hands tick by on the large kitchen clock. Her tummy was filled with the usual pre-weekend butterflies before Callum came home.

  With her free hand, Charlie shyly fingered the flimsy material of her black satin nightie. It was one of the many unnecessary purchases she made during her shopping spree with Lucy after work. From new lingerie to designer evening gowns, they had managed to add to the already bulging expanse of clothing that Charlie owned.

  “Oh, Callum won’t mind,” Lucy had continuously repeated throughout the afternoon as they made use of the platinum credit card he had given her a few months ago.

  After arranging for Charlie’s wages to be transferred into a savings account each month, Callum had made sure to set her up with an additional card on his account. He had claimed that it was for her benefit and enjoyment, but secretly she knew it was his way of monitoring what she did whilst he was away.

  Although apprehensive at first, Charlie soon found that the small piece of silver was her gateway to the more expensive items in life. Instead of saving every penny from her earnings to buy the latest pair of designer shoes, she now had the power to buy the same pair in as many colours as she could possibly fit in her wardrobe. It was a life she couldn’t have even dreamed of and she made sure she was thankful everyday whilst it continued.

  The apartment’s intercom system buzzed noisily, jolting Charlie from her thoughts. Jumping up from her position at the breakfast bar, she hurried towards the intercom phone on the opposite side of the kitchen.

  “Hi John, is he here?” she practically squealed, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

  “Yes, Miss Harris. His electronic fob has just been used on the underground garage. He should be with you shortly,” he replied.

  “Thanks John,” Charlie said as she disconnected the call and placed the phone back on to the wall receiver.

  Knowing Callum was mere minutes away, she moved swiftly through the apartment to wait by the private penthouse lift. Fidgeting nervously with her hands, she watched as the numbers on the panel steadily increased through the floors of the building. Growing more and more impatient, she eventually heard the heart stopping ding of the doors opening and Callum’s smooth and sensual voice as it echoed across the marbled foyer.

  “Damn, Baby,” he growled, running an appreciative eye over her body as he entered the foyer. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

  With a little squeal of excitement, Charlie found herself rushing straight into Callum’s open and waiting arms. His firm and strong grasp held her body tightly against his as his mouth dipped low to claim her lips in a ferocious and practically starved kiss.

  She felt his hands slowly drift down the length of her back to cup her bottom, before he squeezed tightly to encourage her to wrap her legs around his waist. She complied silently, raising one leg to his hip so that Callum could lift her effortlessly against him.

  Sliding her hands to lock around the nape of his neck for support, Charlie gasped at the feel of his erection straining against the material of his trousers.

  “You feel that, Baby?” he rasped breathlessly, looking at her with eager and desire filled eyes that penetrated straight through to the centre of her heart. She shivered nervously from the tingling pleasure his gaze could elicit from her body. “My dick has been as hard as steel for five fucking days thinking about you. I’ve lost count how many times this week I’ve thought about ramming my dick in your hot little pussy, Baby,” he growled roughly against the lobe of her ear. Charlie licked her lips and moaned against his mouth. “You want that don’t you? My dick pounding into that pretty, pink pussy of yours?” he asked as he walked forwards with Charlie held firmly in his arms.

  Keeping her eyes fixed on Callum, Charlie heard the sound of the flower vase scrape across the stone table before it shattered loudly against the floor. Without breaking their eye contact, Callum lowered her body onto the cool hardness of the table in the centre of the penthouse’s foyer.

  Making quick work of his belt, she watched as he pushed down his suit trousers and boxers to free his cock completely. Her eyes widened at the sudden sight of him fully erect and throbbing for attention.

  Callum gripped himself tightly, rubbing his hand up and down his long length whilst watching her reaction. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard tonight,” he said, tugging harshly at her flimsy satin nightie with his free hand. The thin straps holding the material gave way to his force, exposing her nakedness underneath for his perusal.

  Gripping both of her legs, Callum pulled her towards the edge of the table. Unashamedly, Charlie spread her thighs apart and opened up the centre of her body to his gaze. She heard his sharp intake of breath and watched as he licked his lips.

  Holding the head of his cock, Callum started to run the tip through Charlie’s pink and swollen folds. “It looks like you missed me, Baby,” he growled, swirling the wetness over the head of his cock.

  Positioning himself at her opening, Callum pushed into her body with one forceful thrust causing Charlie to moan loudly and her insides to clench tightly around him like a vice. “God, you feel so good,” he breathed as her body continued to quiver.

  Charlie’s eyes dilated as Callum pulled out and thrust into her over and over again. The feel of him hard and full inside of her was what she had craved all week long. The moment Callum came home in a whirlwind and fucked her tirelessly. The man was a machine along with his bionic cock.

  “Oh, fuck!” Charlie panted as Callum’s pace began to increase. She gripped his shoulders for support, digging her fingernails so deep into his back that she knew she would leave a mark. She could feel her orgasm slowly but surely building with more and more intense feeling.

  Lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, Callum let out a hoarse growl from the bottom of his throat. “It’s been a week, Baby. I’m not going to be able to hold on for very long.”

  Dropping her hand between her parted thighs, Charlie whimpered softly as she let two fingers lightly graze over her already sensitised flesh.

  “That’s it, Baby,” Callum encouraged. He could tell that she was close as her eyes were fully closed and her breathing had become laboured and inconsistent.

  Increasing the pressure of her fingers, Charlie arched her back off the table as sharp jolts of pleasure rippled throughout her body.

  “Callum!” She cried out, bursting as the first waves of her orgasm rocked her body violently.

  Hearing her cry his name, Callum finally surrendered to his release, coming hard and fast inside of her. Shuddering from the force of his ejaculation, he slowed his pace a little savouring the feeling of her inner muscles milking his cock dry.

  “I missed you,” he whispered, leaning down to place a soft and gentle kiss against her smiling lips.

  “I love you
too,” she hummed with a satisfied sigh.

  Callum chuckled as he took both of her hands and pulled her upwards to a sitting position. The hard surface of the white granite table agitated the raw flesh of her bare bottom. It was a feeling that was more unpleasant than painful for Charlie. Awkward surfaces and friction burns were now the normal part of their very healthy sex life. Picking comfortable places or positions was never a top priority for Callum when it came to sex. He was a man on a mission and Charlie had grown accustom to just enjoy the moment wherever she was and on whatever surface she was perched on or over.

  “Thanks for smashing yet another frigging vase.” She rolled her eyes playfully at the smashed porcelain and water covering the floor. She had lost count how many times he had smashed the centre piece in the foyer. “I’ll let you go and buy the next ornament,” she said, pushing her hands into the inside of his suit jacket.

  In his haste to devour her body, Charlie noticed that Callum hadn’t even bothered to remove his jacket and tie. Casually she worked the jacket over his broad shoulders, allowing it to carelessly fall to the floor before her fingers moved to undo his tie. Loosening the fabric from around his neck, Charlie held it in front of his eyes before dropping it next to the already crumpled jacket.

  Cocking his head to the side, Callum watched on with amusement as Charlie worked her way down the buttons of his shirt; she had her tongue stuck out in concentration.

  Releasing the final button, Charlie hurried to push it from his body, eager to reveal the taut and toned muscles that lay beneath. She licked her lips hungrily as the first flashes of his abdomen were shown.

  Callum laughed as he shrugged out of the sleeves of his shirt. “Easy now,” he warned.

  Charlie’s eyes danced wildly with fire and excitement for the man stood before her. From head to toe he was the perfect poster guy from any young girl’s fantasy. From the way he meticulously kept his black hair with the silver grey tints styled to perfection; to his well-groomed, dark, designer stubble that lightly dusted his well defined jaw; to his tall, lean and muscular body that was lightly tanned from his time outside supervising builds. He was the epitome of what Charlie considered perfection.