by Carian Cole
“Trust me, I know the feeling. I’ve had my share of shit lately, too. My life is pretty much upside-down.” She lays Sterling gently on the bed. “Let’s go get those plates before the guys think we ran away.”
When Ivy and I join the guys outside again, Vandal eyes me like a hawk and lifts his chin up at me, which I take as a gesture for me to go to him.
“Did you get lost?” he asks. His eyes are dark and his Dom tone is in full force.
I hand him a plate. “No. Ivy wanted to see Sterling.”
“What did you tell her?” he asks softly, so his brother and Ivy can’t hear.
“About what?”
“Us.”
“Nothing. She said we look happy and they’re happy for us.”
“I don’t want them to know about the D/s.”
My heart skips. “I wouldn’t tell them about that. Do you really think I would talk about that casually to people I just met?”
“No. I’m just making sure, because it’s very private.”
“Agreed. Now stop it. You’re surrounded by people that care about you. No one is out to get you or pry into your life.”
He leans down and whispers in my ear, “I’m going to fuck you so hard later.” He kisses my cheek and I grab two plates piled with food and bring them over to the table.
“I’m starving,” Lukas says.
“You are always hungry. You’re worse than my kids,” Ivy replies.
Vandal brings the rest of the food over and takes his seat next to me, then pulls my plate closer to his.
“You’ll love this teriyaki chicken,” he says to me, cutting it up into small pieces for me, as he does every night when we have dinner. I honestly don’t know why he does it, and I feel as if it’s one of those things that I just shouldn’t question. We ignore Ivy and Lukas’s odd sideways glances at us.
“So, Van, I had to fire Dana,” Lukas says between bites of steak.
“Who the hell is Dana?” Vandal slides my plate back over to me, my food now cut into tiny pieces and arranged neatly around the plate.
Lukas glares at his brother with slight annoyance. “The receptionist at the tat parlor? The girl that makes all the appointments and makes people pay us?”
“Oh. Why’d you fire her?”
“She was sleeping with the customers.”
“So?”
“Vandal,” Ivy says, “You guys have one of the best reputations in the state for having not only two of the most talented artists, but also being the cleanest and most professional parlor. You can’t have someone that unprofessional at the forefront.”
Vandal raises a suspicious eye at Lukas. “Did you bang her?”
Lukas slams his fork down. “Fuck no.”
“Neither did I. Hire someone else then who’s not going to blow our clients.”
“Great plan,” Ivy says, and we smile across the table at each other. I don’t think either one of us wants a slutty girl working where our men are all day.
After dinner, Lukas goes out to his car to get his violin and Vandal grabs his acoustic bass and we sit out back with tiki torches lit. It’s hard not to swoon at the sight of these two brothers sitting side by side, the torches casting a warm glow over their muscled, tattooed arms, with their silky black hair falling over their eyes. Lukas raises the bow and slowly glides it down the strings, his eyes closed as a haunting sound floats from his violin. I hold my breath listening to him, completely captivated, the way he sways slowly as he plays, so fluid in his motion, as if he is one with the beautiful wooden instrument. He pauses for a moment and Vandal strums his bass, the deep sound resonating straight through me, his hands moving up and down the strings seductively, occasionally tapping the side of the wood. I watch his hands, the way they move so confidently, slow then fast, much like they touch and play my body. Lukas comes in again and they play together in perfect unison, a dark duet that is half metal and half classical.
Ivy and I are both entranced, watching them play, the raw sexuality and talent of these men sucking us both in like a vacuum. I’m sure Ivy is under the same trance with Lukas as I am with Vandal, powerless to fight it. I cross my legs as the familiar tingling manifests between my thighs while I watch the man I’m in love with, his head slightly bent towards the guitar, long hair hanging down his chest, fingers stepping up and down the strings. Everything about him pulls me and makes me want him more and more, like an undeniable magnet.
I cannot imagine the insane effect these guys must have on the female fans. The girls must be literally drooling over them, ovaries exploding with a mere glance from either brother. Vandal never talks about the band or his future plans, so I’m left to wonder if we stay in a relationship, how much of his life is dedicated to the band and the tattoo parlor, and how that will affect us. I’m not quite sure how I’ll feel knowing that hordes of women will be gawking at him, getting wet over him, offering themselves to him, wanting nothing in return except to be able to say they hooked up with him. Will he resist them and remain committed to me? Or will he eventually end up cheating and want to be free to have a variety of women? I could never share him or accept him being with another woman.
Night comes, and I catch Vandal eyeing me with that lustful gaze he gets when he wants me. I’m sure I must have the same look in my own eyes after watching him play because I feel incredibly turned on and woozy, almost drunk from the music, mixed with the sexiness the brothers ooze.
Lukas puts his violin down. “We should get going,” he says. “It’s getting late.”
“You guys can crash here if you want,” Vandal suggests, surprising me. “You could stay in the guest room.”
Lukas closes up his violin case. “I wish we could, but we can’t, man. Ivy has a sitter at the house with Tommy.”
“Ah. Gotcha.”
Ivy helps me clean up the table, and the guys extinguish the torches and grab their instruments, then we all go inside to say goodbye. I’m glad the guys had a good day together, and I hope this is the start of them strengthening their bond.
“I’m just gonna use the restroom,” Ivy says.
“Sure. It’s down the hall to the right,” I tell her, not sure if she’s ever been here before. Vandal disappears down the hall to put his bass away, and Lukas turns to me in the living room and grabs my hand, turning my wrist over. I have slight red marks on my wrists from the ribbons that Vandal ties me with, which fade but come back again since he ties my wrists several nights per week.
“Is he tying you?” he asks, his voice lowered.
I pull my hand away. “That’s none of your business.”
He shakes his head. “Yeah, you’re right. But you seem like a sweet girl. Just be careful what you’re getting into. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt. If he’s got you living here, doing this with you, he’s not going to just let you go.”
“I don’t want to go.”
He stares at me and then tilts his head slowly, his brow furrowing. “What’s your last name?” he asks.
“What?” I ask, confused. “It’s Bennett. Why?”
His face pales. “I thought you looked familiar. Do you know who I am? Do you remember me?”
“Um . . . Vandal’s brother? Have we met before?” He doesn’t look at all familiar to me. I would never forget a man that looked like him.
He opens his mouth and then clams up when Vandal and Ivy come into the room.
“What’s going on?” Vandal asks, eyeing us.
“Vandal, can I talk to you real quick?” Lukas asks. “I need to talk to you about the shop.”
“So call me tomorrow.” He yawns. “I’m tired.”
Lukas’s face is hard. “No. We have to talk about it now.” He turns to Ivy. “I’ll be right back, babe.”
Ivy and I watch as they walk through the kitchen and out the back sliding doors, Lukas with his hand gripping Vandal’s arm. Something is definitely up.
“Is everything all right?” she asks me, looking just as confused as I feel.
“Yeah, I hope so.”
CHAPTER 21
VANDAL
LUKAS IS TRIPPING OUT, practically dragging me through the house. As soon as we get outside, I pull my arm from his death grip.
“Dude, what’s going on?” I ask him.
He points to the house. “Do you know who that is?”
“Who? What are we talking about?”
“Tabitha. Tabitha Bennett?”
He knows.
He fucking knows.
I stare him down, my breathing getting deeper as my heart thumps harder, like a drum.
“Leave it alone, Lukas. Go home,” I say, my voice like ice.
He looks at me with wide eyes. “Leave it alone? Vandal, what are you doing? Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“How do you know who she is?” I demand, fear growing in me at the notion that he may have said something to her while I was out of the room. She could be in the car with Ivy right now, waiting to get far away from me.
He crosses his arms and stares up at the moonlit sky, and then turns to me slowly. “I was there the night of the accident. I saw her, at the hospital. I think she was in shock; the nurse left her in the hallway on a gurney, all bloody and banged up, right next to me. I was waiting for someone to tell me what was going on with you. It was total chaos.”
“You didn’t tell her, did you?” I ask, stepping closer to him. “Just now, when you were with her?”
“So, she really doesn’t know who you are?”
“No. She has no idea,” I admit.
He paces across the deck, shaking his head, and comes back to stand in front of me again. “You can’t do this. Why would you do this?”
“It wasn’t planned. I met her by accident at the cemetery. She was a fucking mess, just like me. She was falling apart at her husband’s grave. I saw her there a few times, and the last time, I couldn’t stay away from her. Everything after that just kinda happened.”
“Kinda happened?” he repeats. “I can’t believe this. I thought you were getting better. I thought you were happy and finally found someone normal to be with, and that you were going to just not be so . . . fucking dysfunctional. And now I find out this. You really do create your own disasters, Van.”
“I am happy, Lukas. And so is she. And look who’s talking. You’re no better than me. You’re just as fucked up as I am.”
“She’s happy because she doesn’t know you were part of the fucking accident that killed her husband. Vandal, come on.” I look towards the house to make sure the girls aren’t watching us from a window. “You can’t do this shit,” Lukas continues. “And for the record, I am better than you. I would never deceive someone like this. It’s cruel.”
“She loves me,” I say, but I know it’s a weak excuse because Lukas is right—I shouldn’t be treating her this way.
“You’re fucking tying her up with your sick shit. I saw her wrists; they’re all red.”
I grab his throat and push him up against the house. “I am not sick,” I seethe, and quickly let him go before I hurt him. “You don’t know anything about it or what we have. She’s here willingly. She doesn’t judge me. She wants it. She wants me.”
He shakes his head and lowers his eyes away from me as he rubs his throat. “Lukas, don’t fuck with me. You don’t understand. I can’t lose her. I’ve never cared about any woman like I do for her. She’s everything I’ve always wanted. She gets me. She really loves me.” He sighs and backs up a few steps. “I’ll tell her someday, but not now. She’s not ready yet, and neither am I. Just let us be fucking happy for a little while.”
“Vandal, this will never work. When she finds out, she’s going to freak the fuck out. You can’t lie to people like that.”
“I will tell her, just not today. I need more time.”
“Time to do what?” he questions, throwing his hands up in the air.
“To make her happy, and show her who I really am, so maybe she can forgive me.”
He shakes his head angrily. “I don’t know, man. This is so fucking wrong. She’s a nice girl, and you’re fucking with her mind and her heart. Do you even love her?”
Grinding my teeth, I take my time answering him. “Yeah, I think I do.”
He runs his hand through his hair, just like I do when I’m distraught. “Okay, look, I want you to be happy. You know that. You’ve had a shit fucking life and I think you need someone like her to love you and fucking help you get your shit together, like Ivy has done for me. I know what that feels like. But you cannot hurt Tabitha, Vandal.” He grabs my shoulders and gives me a little shake, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Promise me you’ll tell her soon. If you really care about her and love her, you have to come clean. Sooner or later, she’s gonna find out. You can’t hide her here forever.”
“I know.” But I want to.
“You could tell her now, while we’re here,” he suggests. “It might help, make it easier to have us here as a buffer or whatever. And if she freaks out, I’ll take her home.”
Rage rises up in me again at the thought of him taking her away from me, taking her home to a dark, lonely house that is just going to depress her. “No. Fuck no. Not today.”
He sighs with exasperation. “Fine. I’m not going to fight with you. We had a nice day today. I noticed you didn’t have one drink and I’m proud of you for that. I’d like to have some more days like this. Just think about what you’re doing, okay? Think about her. Lies lead to more lies. You’ll never dig yourself out. If she really loves you, she’ll be able to forgive you. Maybe not right away, but eventually. You have to let that be her choice, not yours.”
I rub my temples as my head starts to throb. “I know, I know. Please, no more.”
“Are you still getting headaches from the accident?” he asks, concerned.
“Sometimes, when I get stressed out like this.”
“You should see the doctor. Don’t fuck around with a head injury.”
I wave him away. “I’m fine. You should go. The girls are probably having fits about us hiding out here.”
“It would be good for Ivy and Tabitha to become friends. Ivy is really sweet and she lost a lot of friends after the split with her husband because they’re married to friends of her husband and all that shit, and they don’t like me. She would be a good friend to Tabitha, especially if shit goes down and she needs someone to talk to.”
Shit goes down.
As in when Tabi freaks out when she learns that I crashed my car into hers and killed the one man she loved more than anything.
I can’t get to Tabi fast enough after Lukas and Ivy leave. I pull her to me and kiss her roughly, raping her mouth with mine, my tongue twisting around hers as I pull her blouse off and tug the white tank top down to expose her naked chest. I cup her breast in my hand and squeeze her hard, her nipple immediately stiffening against my palm. Dipping my head down, I suck her into my mouth, swirling my tongue around her nipple before biting it between my teeth while my hands work on removing her belt and then her jeans. I tug them down with her panties and force her out of her shoes, pulling her pants off. Fisting her hair, I twist her around and bend her over the credenza next to the front door, kicking her legs apart with my foot. I lick my fingers and slide them across her pussy, moistening them before I plunge into her, accidentally slamming her head into the wall. I pull her head up by her hair and bend down over her body, turning her head to kiss her.
“Sorry, sweetness,” I rasp in her ear.
“Don’t be,” she comes back, breathless and panting. “Don’t stop.”
A wave of carnal desire floods me hearing her words and I pound into her wet slit harder and deeper. I want to fuck her apart, crawl inside of her and own every single inch of her. I pull her up off the credenza and turn her around, lifting her up and shoving her against the wall. Her legs wrap tight around my waist and she whimpers like a kitten as my cock slides back into her swollen, waiting folds. Linking her hands in mine, I stretch them abo
ve her head against the wall and seek out her baby-doll lips, kissing her long and deep, our teeth gnashing against each other.
“Can I . . .” she gasps against my mouth.
“Can you what?” I let her body slide down a few inches, so I can stroke into her with more force.
“Can I come?” Her voice is sweet, an angel’s voice saying a whore’s words. I love it.
“Yes, darlin’. You should come right now.”
And she does, because she does everything I want and need and ask for. And all of that fuels me and drowns out Lukas’s accusations and his visible disgust in my mind. She clenches and grips my shaft, her juices drenching me. Releasing her hands, I slide mine down her sinewy body to grip her ass, pulling her away from the wall and holding her body up with my arms as I bounce her up and down on my rock-hard cock. Her hands grip my shoulders and she kisses and bites my neck as I shoot inside of her.
“Don’t stop biting me. I fucking love that.”
Of course she does as she’s told. I carry her to the couch and fall on top of her, spreading her legs and driving back in. I fuck her for hours, and soon the sun is coming up, and she’s raw and exhausted and almost incoherent from orgasm overload, but I still don’t want to stop. I can keep going for hours more if I want to.
“Vandal . . . please . . .” she breathes, pushing me away. “I can’t anymore.”
“Do not push me away from you. Ever.” I pull her leg up, wrapping it around my waist as I roll onto my side next to her.
“You’ve been fucking me non-stop since your brother left. Are you okay? Did you have a fight or something?”
“No.”
“He asked me if I recognized him.”
My heart jumps into my fucking throat. “Do you?”
“No. I would remember him.”
“What do you mean by that exactly, Tabitha?”
She swallows nervously, and I enjoy the glimmer of fear I see in her eyes. “He’s different looking, with the hair and all the tattoos. Like you. I would remember him.”