“Are you passionate about investing other people’s money?” Jam asks.
Her eyes dart in his direction. “No, I’m not. I let my parent’s pressure me into going to school for what they wanted me to become.”
I never knew this and now I’m kicking myself for not asking. “What did you want?” I question, genuinely interested.
“I wanted to be a teacher.” She rolls her eyes.
“Why are you rolling your eyes? It’s not too late to become one,” I mention.
“I think that ship has already sailed. I can’t imagine going back to school and now I’ve come to like the money I make.”
“It’s never too late to make a change,” my grandmother chimes in. “I’m still trying to decide what I want to be when I grow up.”
“You’re a spry eighty-one, Gram. Go for it. The sky’s the limit.” I tell her.
“Is that supposed to be a reference about me dying soon?” She winks at me.
Once dinner’s over, I linger in the kitchen to help my grandmother with the dishes. Elle tried to stay and help, but I told her we were all set. I want some time alone with Gram. We don’t get to see each other very often these days and I miss her.
“How have you been, Josh?” She asks as I rinse each plate, before placing them in the dishwasher.
“I’ve been good - busy.”
“I can see that.” She smiles.
“It’s not only because of Elle. I’ve been working a lot of hours at Canvas, trying to build a solid client base. It takes a lot of time, but I love tattooing.”
“You’re still finding time for your painting, right?” She raises an eyebrow at me. Gram has always been my biggest support in every way, especially when it comes to my artwork.
“I am. I’ve been invited to take part in an art competition. It’s a fairly prestigious event and I’m honored to have been asked. I won’t win, but I could gain some exposure from it.”
“Why would you say you won’t win before it even happens?” She crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes at me.
“I’m trying to be realistic. I’ll be competing against some well-known artists.”
“Well if I’m not mistaken, you’re also well known.”
“I don’t know about that, Gram. The paintings I did for the state house definitely gained me a lot of exposure, but I have a long way to go.”
“Could this competition be another step in helping you with that?”
“Help me gain more exposure? Yeah, absolutely. Which is why I need to make sure I love the painting I submit. It needs to be my best effort.”
“Josh, I’ve never seen you give less than one hundred percent on anything. I’m sure, this will pay off for you.”
She holds her arms out for a hug. I can’t resist the comfort she offers. Her hugs are legendary and always make me feel better. No matter how old I get this never changes.
“So, what do you think of Elle?” I ask, when we part.
“She’s a gorgeous girl. I can certainly see the appeal.”
“She’s much more than a pretty face,” I cut in.
“Hold your horses, I wasn’t done.” She sends a scolding glare my way. “She’s got a great personality too and I can tell she’s crazy about you.”
“You can?”
“Yes. She looks at you with love in her eyes.”
“She’s hard to read and she’s not very forthcoming with how she’s feeling. She’s never really had a serious relationship before.”
“And you’re serious about her?”
“Completely.”
“I think if you’re honest and patient with her then it will all work out.”
“I hope so. I’m head over heels and it’s unnerving not knowing if she feels the same.”
* * *
“I had a great time with your family,” she says, as we relax on her couch. She’s lying between my legs, her head on my chest as we watch Battlestar Galactica episodes.
“I knew they’d love you. I think my brothers might be crushing on you.”
“Now, you’re being silly.”
“It was awesome to be the envied one for a change.”
“What do you mean?” Her fingertips stroke delicately along the top of my hands where they lie on her stomach.
“When we were younger, I was always looking up to Jam and being envious of all the hot girlfriends he had. Even Owen has never had to work to get a girl. But now, I’m the one with the sexy as fuck girlfriend and they noticed.”
“So, I’m only a trophy to you? Just someone to use for bragging rights?” she jokes, rolling over, resting her crossed arms on my lower stomach. When she places her chin on top of them, it doesn’t escape my notice that her pussy is pressed against my now hard cock. She smiles mischievously and rolls her hips into me.
“You can be anything you want.”
“What do you want me to be?”
“I want you to be the dick sucking champion of the world,” I joke.
“I don’t know about the world, but I’m feeling pretty inspired.” Rising to her knees she backs up until she’s kneeling between my legs. Her fingers move down to undo the button and zipper on my pants.
“I like where your inspiration is taking you.” I grin down at her.
“I bet you do,” she says, pushing my pants open. “Commando? I like it.”
“I haven’t had time to do laundry. But I like free-balling occasionally.”
She licks the length of my cock from the base to the tip and I lose my train of thought. When she repeats the motion my breath stutters. She smirks knowingly. Staring up at me, she wraps her plump lips around the head and begins to suck.
Oh fuck. My fingers burrow into her long tresses as she slowly slides up and down my cock.
“Hmm,” she hums, like my dick is the best thing that’s ever been in her mouth. It’s such a turn on.
“Do you like sucking my cock?”
She pulls her mouth off with a pop. “I love it.”
“Fuck, Elle. You’re incredible.” I gasp as she swallows me down once more, this time stroking me with her hand as well. Between the tight seal of her mouth and the firm grip of her fist, I’m barely hanging on. I don’t want to come and end this exquisite pleasure, but I want to see her swallow every drop of my orgasm.
Head bobbing faster, she slurps and sucks driving me mad. “Fuck yes, don’t stop,” I order. Raising my hips, I thrust up with every downward motion of her mouth. I want to fuck her mouth so hard, but I curb the urge, letting her have her way with me.
“I’m going to come,” I warn. She keeps sucking, never letting up until she pushes me over the edge of reason. I shudder, groaning her name, fingers clutching her head, as I release into her hot, wet mouth. My heart pounds so hard, I might be having a heart attack. I don’t think I’d complain if my last moments in this life were spent inside any part of Elle Johnson.
“What do you think?” she asks, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb.
“Think? About...what?” I can’t even form a complete thought right now. I’m lucky I can remember my own name.
“Am I the dick sucking champ?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elle
“Hello,” I say as I answer my phone. The number that came up on the screen is unknown.
“Elle.” The deep voice on the other end sends chills down my spine in the worst possible way. Fear washes over me. Shit. It’s been a month since I had dinner with my father and I was hoping Scott had changed his mind. However, my luck couldn’t be that good.
My mind whirls in a frenzy of thoughts. What am I going to do?
“Elle,” he barks, snapping me back to this moment.
“Scott,” I utter, hoarsely.
“Did you miss me, baby?” he asks with a chuckle.
“No, can’t say I have,” I reply, regaining some of my footing now that the initial shock of hearing his voice has worn off.
“There’s my girl.”
“I’m not your girl.”
“Are you sure about that? I think you are and when I take you to dinner I’ll tell you all about it.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
“If you care about tattoo boy then you’ll have dinner with me,” he says, sounding smug.
What does he know about Josh?
Crap. I can’t have Scott messing with him. He only opened Canvas two months ago and everything’s starting to come together for him. “Fine. Where and when?” I question, but my stomach is in knots with worry. I don’t want Josh negatively impacted by my father or Scott. Both of them have limitless amounts of money and are ruthless enough to get whatever they want. Ruining someone like Josh wouldn’t even be challenging for either of them.
“Tonight, Chez Regis at seven o’clock. Don’t bother driving. I’ll be taking you home after,” he informs me, confidently.
“Fine.” I have no intention of letting him drive me anywhere. Meeting him in public is bad enough, but nothing good will come from being alone with him.
“I can’t wait to see you, baby. It’s been way too long.”
When the call ends, my head falls into my hands as despair invades every cell of me. I don’t know what kind of dirt Scott has on Josh, but he has something. Most likely it’s fabricated, but it won’t matter. It will be enough to permanently damage his reputation. The situation is hopeless. All I can do is meet him tonight and see what kind of game he’s playing.
* * *
Walking into Chez Regis, my eyes peruse the bar for any sign of Scott. Stopping when they lock onto his broad-shouldered frame and dark hair, my feet slow their approach. I shiver from a combination of dread and fear of what he’s got planned. Things are never what they seem with him. I can’t let my guard down for a single second because he strikes when you least expect it.
Scott spins around on the bar stool as I come up beside him, a large smile on his handsome face.
“Hey, baby.” He rises to his feet, drawing me into his arms. My body goes stiff like a board, every part of me rebelling against this close contact between us.
“Please don’t call me that,” I say, already knowing it will only anger him, but I can’t stomach hearing an endearment fall from his lying lips. Once upon a time, I believed the lies and half-truths he spoon fed me, but no longer. Now immune to his charms, I see him for what he really is - an opportunist.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grits out between clenched teeth, grabbing my upper arm tight in his meaty fist. “I think we both know it won’t go well for you.” His eyes flash with anger or insanity. Either is a possibility with Scott and I’m sure of this better than anyone having dated him from the time I was a senior in high school until sophomore year of college.
“Let go, Scott.”
“But I can’t keep my hands off you, Elle.” His other hand moves to my other arm, pulling me closer until my breasts are pressed into his chest. “I still remember how tight your pussy was and I can’t wait to feel it again.” He flashes a devious grin and my stomach rolls with fear.
“Can we sit down and talk now? I need to get home. I have to work early in the morning.”
“My baby’s anxious to get this show on the road,” he says and I cringe with disgust. “I’m looking forward to dessert back at my place,” he adds, making matters worse.
The thought of him touching any part of my body makes me want to vomit. “Scott, I haven’t seen you in five years. What makes you think I’m going anywhere with you?”
“Oh Elle. How quickly you’ve forgotten how it used to be with us. Those were the good old days.”
“I don’t remember anything positive about them. I’m happy with the way my life is now.”
He opens his mouth to reply, but the hostess interrupts, leading us to our table. My head pounds with a migraine as I follow behind her. I don’t want to be here. Imagining Josh’s arms around me helps to calm me and by the time we’re seated at our table, I feel as though I’ve regained some footing.
Spreading my napkin in my lap, I watch as the waitress pours us each a glass of ice water.
Scott orders without asking me what I’d like which isn’t surprising. He’s a control freak about everything and since I didn’t come here with the intent to enjoy dinner with him - what does it matter? It’s not like I’m going to be able to swallow a single bite, anyhow. Being in his company is hard enough to stomach.
“How long have you and tattoo boy been together?” he asks, once the waitress has gone.
“Tattoo boy?” I roll my eyes. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“I’m trying to be polite and have a simple conversation. What’s wrong with that?”
“You’re right. I’m a horrible person,” I say, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Can you please tell me whatever it is you lured me here for?”
“Sure, I didn’t want to ruin your dinner, but if you insist.” His lips move into a smirk and I envision myself slapping it right off his face. How I wish I could, but he’d only make me pay for it later. The memories of his heavy hand have dulled, but they’ll never completely disappear.
“I have it on good authority that your boyfriend is laundering money for the Bastards.”
“No way.” I shake my head and snort. “No fucking way.”
“Yes, fucking way. I have someone who’s willing to go to the police and report him. I also have evidence,” he says making air quotes.
“Scott, you can’t fabricate evidence and expect it to stick.” I want to leap over the table and strangle him. Josh would never do anything illegal. I’m positive about this without a single doubt.
“It doesn’t have to stick to do irreparable damage to his reputation. I wonder what the New England Art Association would think about one of their entrants being involved in money laundering.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I am what I am.” He smiles then winks as he shifts his weight, placing his arms on the table. “When I want something, I go after it.”
“What do you want from me?” I question, leaning back in my chair. I want as much distance between the two of us a possible. Merely smelling his cologne is making me sick. It’s the same one he wore when we were together. It conjures up painful memories of a time in my life I’d prefer to forget.
“You, my dearest will be the dutiful girlfriend you never learned to be. You’re going to do as I say with a smile on your gorgeous face the whole goddamn time. Your main duty will be to please me in any way you can.”
“Why do you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”
“Oh no, you won’t be pretending. You are mine as of right now. Unless you want to go our separate ways and see how that works out for your artist.”
“Why would you even want me, Scott? We were horrible together.”
“No, you were a brat who wanted her way all the time.” His eyes flash anger and my chest tightens with anxiety. Seeing the crazed look in his gaze brings back all the fear I experienced at his hands.
“Fine, I’ll do what I have to, but you better stay away from Josh or the deal’s off.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll leave your little boy toy alone, as long as you stay away from him.”
“I have to break up with him. I’m not going to stop talking to him and ignore his calls. He deserves an explanation.”
“You better come up with a convincing reason, baby. If he finds out what we’ve discussed tonight then you can kiss his reputation goodbye.”
“You’re such a bastard.”
He shrugs, looking smug. “Elle, there’s always a winner and a loser in every situation. You should know by now which one I am.”
* * *
My stomach is so nauseous I can barely drive home. After the bombshell Scott dropped on me, all I want to do is climb in my bed and pretend this night has been a nightmare. This can’t be my life. Of course when everything's going well he had to step in and fuck it all up. I knew
it was too good to be true.
Wiping the moisture from my forehead before it can drip down into my eyes, I focus on the road in front of me. Every inch of my body is trembling. Being in Scott’s company was more difficult than I let on.
When I finally escaped inside my car, I collapsed, sobbing with my head on the steering wheel. Thankfully, he didn’t put up a fight that I disobeyed and drove my car. There was no way I was letting him that close to me tonight. Or any other night if I can help it.
But how can I help it?
That’s the million-dollar question.
How do I get Josh out of the mess he’s going to be in because of me?
If I don’t do as Scott says, he’ll follow through with his threats. Maybe I can stall for a few days and give myself time to come up with a plan.
In the meantime, I need to distance myself from Josh; which will be no small feat. He’s imperative to my happiness and a single day without him will be too much, never mind an indefinite amount of time. But loving someone means putting them first, and Josh deserves no less. He would do the same for me. He may not realize why I’m stepping back from our relationship, but I will. Maybe it can be a small consolation for all that I’m sacrificing. For the first time in my life, I’m ready to put someone else’s needs above my own. It’s too bad Josh will never know.
Once I’m home, I barely make it inside my bathroom before I’m bent over heaving into the toilet. Both hands on the cool porcelain toilet bowl while I brace myself for the next wave of nausea to hit.
I never imagined I’d have to deal with Scott Granger again. He nearly ruined me the first time around and now five years later, I’m no better prepared. Is there a way to prepare to date an abusive, vengeful psychopath? If there is, I’d like to know because that’s my future and it’s looking pretty fucking dismal.
* * *
Three Years Ago
The Complete Quake Series Page 66