by SC Daiko
She wriggled off my lap and pulled me to my feet. “I need you inside me. I need you to make me feel like a woman and not an abused little girl.”
“Oh, baby. You’re so brave. I’m fucking proud of you.”
Our hands linked, we ran inside and up to our bedroom. I lifted her and laid her on the bed. Then I climbed over her to extend her neck and suck and bite my way up to her chin.
She writhed her body beneath me. “Oh, Pierce…”
I kissed her, kissed her until we were both breathless. I traced my thumb over her cheek and along her heart-shaped face, looking down at her. “I love you so much, Hayley. You give me all I could ever want,” I sang the words of my song. “Life and the universe are never fair. But my love will be constant.”
“I love, love, love you.” She parted her lips so I could slip my tongue into her mouth. Without detaching myself from her, I pulled off our clothes and spread her legs wide. And I didn’t stop kissing her. Not when I was sliding into her. Not when I was thrusting. I kept my lips fused with hers, and I took her mouth with the same passion as I took her pussy.
Skin to skin, I covered every inch of her. “Can you feel me, baby? Can you feel me in your heart, in your mind, in your body and in your soul?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes!!!”
We kept on kissing, kissing away our pain as our bodies rocked. My thrusts were deep, and she clenched around me. My hips pumped faster, my hand reaching between us to rub at her clit.
She came with a trembling moan. “Ahh!!!” I wasn’t far behind. My cock spasmed and then filled her with my cum.
Still inside her, I rested my forehead on hers. Our sweat mingled, her breath became my breath and our hearts beat as one.
She smoothed the hair back from my brow. “You need closure with your dad, honey.”
“I know…”
She gazed into my eyes. “There are twins on both sides of our families. My auntie’s and your sister’s. Do you think that increases the chances of us having twins as well?”
I laughed a belly laugh. “As long as they’re both girls and look like their beautiful mother, I’d be the happiest man alive.”
Chapter 29
Hayley
Two weeks after our trip to Portland, Joe, Pierce, and I were flying Business Class to London.
Our overnight flight had taken off in the late afternoon, and now I was lying in my reclining seat, trying to get some sleep. Problem was, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had gone down in recent days, and what might happen when we arrived in England.
I swept my gaze over Pierce, sleeping next to me like he didn’t have a care in the world. Jake had done what he could to limit the damage caused by Pierce’s dad. But, ultimately, Pierce had decided to suck it up. “I’m sick of hiding my past,” he’d told me. “Dad won’t have any leverage over me now, and it feels kinda liberating.” I reached across and brushed a kiss to Pierce’s clean-shaven cheek. He stirred slightly, then relaxed back into a deep sleep within seconds.
Yesterday, he’d insisted I cut his hair short. Said it would make him less recognizable when we were in his hometown. I’d argued that I loved his rocker mophead, but he’d been adamant. “We won’t be touring for at least another year, babe. It’ll grow back by then if necessary. I wanna show that I’ve cleaned up my act, that I’m not the bad boy the press are making me out to be.”
I gazed at his face. He looked boyish with his dark eyelashes fanning the space above his cheekbones. Even without his long hair, he was devastatingly handsome. Maybe even more so. My heart ached for him, for the lack of love his father had shown to his only son. The reason we were travelling to the UK was for Pierce to try and get some kind of closure. We’d talked at length about it, how he needed to go back to his roots so he could hope for a better future. I wasn’t looking forward to meeting David Fox…he sounded like a complete bastard…
Not as bad as my uncle, though.
Just thinking about Uncle Earl made my stomach churn. I’d told Auntie I’d wanted him to pay for what he’d done to me. I couldn’t help feeling that the mofo had gotten off too easy. I stared down at my hands. At least, by committing suicide, he hadn’t gone on to abuse anyone else…
I adjusted my neck pillow and closed my eyes, trying to empty my mind of worrying thoughts. The vibration of the airplane’s engines was oddly soothing and soon I surrendered myself to sleep.
We landed at Heathrow in the late morning and, through the airport grapevine, word had spread about our arrival. Paps snapped pics of us as we came through the doors, shouting their stupid questions. “Is it true you were in a street gang, Foxy?”
“No comment,” he growled.
“Like your new hair style, Pierce…”
He growled again.
“What’s it like to be engaged to an ex-juvenile delinquent, Hayley?”
I kept my head down and rolled my suitcase, ignoring the cameras and shouted interrogation. This is what I’d signed up for when I’d agreed to marry my rock god. I was grateful we had Joe to shield us and place himself in front of the press. I wouldn’t have liked to have faced the ruckus without him. He was built like a tank with a neck like a massive tree trunk…no one would have dared mess with him.
Our pre-arranged driver, Seb, was waiting for us, and we walked with him to the parking lot to find our SUV. Rain sheeted down, and the Fall air was chilly. I hugged my parka around my body and shivered.
Last time I was in London with ChiMera, we stayed at the Langham in the West End, but Pierce’s family lived in the East End—he’d described them as Cockneys through and through—so we’d opted for a four star hotel in Canary Wharf, a modern development built on the original docklands, which was now a major financial and retail center. Pierce and I thought we’d find it easier to blend into the background of trendy young people who hung out in the area. Especially with his cleaned-up image…not that it had fooled the paparazzi.
The drive from the airport took over an hour and, once we’d checked in and taken our luggage to a double room overlooking the dock below, we left the hotel and grabbed a bite to eat in an ‘olde worlde’ pub with oak-beamed ceilings and a roaring log fire. Pierce kept his shades on and I twisted my hair up under a beanie so no one would recognize us. And no one did…thankfully. Joe sat at a nearby table, playing games on his phone. The aroma of beer wafted around us, and I caught Pierce staring longingly at the bar. “You’re doing great, honey,” I whispered. “But maybe we shouldn’t have come in here?”
He shook himself and wiped a hand over his face. “It’s okay. I’ve been sober for nearly three months. I can handle it.”
We ate a traditional meal of steak and ale pie, served with mashed potatoes and peas. It was kind of heavy and I hoped I wouldn’t get indigestion. I took a sip of my sparkling mineral water and asked, “What time is Bethany expecting us?”
“Not until teatime. The boys will be home from school then. I’ll show you around my neighborhood, some of the places where I used to hang out when I was a kid, first, if you like.”
Teatime was what he liked to call our supper time. I guessed it was an English thing. “Sounds like a plan.”
Pierce settled the check and we walked back to the hotel with Joe to meet Seb with our car. The London Borough of Tower Hamlets flanked the east side of the City and the north bank of the River Thames. Its ethnic diversity was obvious from the people I saw thronging the sidewalks and from the multi-cultural stores and restaurants. Pierce told me the district boasted the highest rate of poverty, unemployment, and pay inequality of any London borough. It was a startling contrast to the evident wealth of Canary Wharf.
We headed for the social housing estate where he’d been raised. “I moved my parents and sister out of here as soon as I could afford to buy them their own places,” he explained when we’d gotten there. We stayed in the car and I stared at the tall apartment block and the graffiti-covered walls. Groups of teens were hanging about, probably looking for their next vandalizatio
n project, and I gave an involuntary shudder. “Don’t unwind the window,” Pierce warned. “You’ll catch a whiff of stale piss.”
Pierce had bought his parents an apartment overlooking a nearby park, apparently, but we weren’t heading there. Instead we’d agreed to have tea—really an early supper—with them at Bethany’s.
Pierce gripped my hand hard as we pulled up in front of a tall, terraced house on a quiet street. “Breathe,” I said, and he did, puffing out a long slow breath and inhaling again.
“I’ll wait in the car with Seb, boss,” Joe said, after he’d done a risk assessment and opened our doors for us.
“Thanks,” Pierce smiled. He pressed the bell and we burrowed into our coats while we waited for it to be answered.
“Uncle!!!” Children’s voices shrilled from inside.
My belly twisted at that word, but I didn’t have time to react before the door crashed open and two dark-haired pre-teens hurled themselves at Pierce.
He wrapped his arms around them, laughing. “Steady on, guys. You’ve grown so big you’ll knock me over.”
“This is Hayley, my fiancée,” he introduced me to them. “And these, Hayley, are Archie and George.”
They stared at me with Pierce’s deep blue eyes. “Hi,” they said in unison. They were so alike, and so like Pierce, my chest squeezed.
“And I’m Bethany.” An older, female version of him, had appeared in the doorway. “It’s lovely to meet you. Don’t stand out here. It’s freezing. Come inside…”
She ushered us into a long, narrow hallway with a flight of stairs to the left, a door at the end and another to the right. After she’d opened the door to the right, we stepped into the small living room. Net curtains covered a bay window overlooking the street. Gas flames flickered in the fireplace. And Pierce’s parents sat sprawled on one of a pair of sofas placed in front of the hearth, not bothering to get to their feet when I was presented to them.
Pierce and I perched on the second sofa, while Bethany and the twins went to the kitchen to finish preparing our ‘tea’.
I gazed at Pierce’s parents. I knew David and Dawn Fox were in their mid-sixties, but to me they looked so much older. David had put on a shirt and tie for the occasion. His hair was entirely white, and his puffy, red face bore witness to his drinking habit. Pierce had told me he also had an addiction to gambling on horse racing…hence his chronic shortness of cash. Dawn, who frittered away the money Pierce sent her on endless online shopping, had overdone the makeup, particularly the bright red lipstick, which, instead of making her look younger, had aged her by bleeding into the wrinkles around her pursed lips. My fingers twitched to wipe it all off and start again.
“So…Hayley,” David Fox practically purred my name. “I hear congratulations are in order.”
“Yes, when’s the happy day?” Dawn added.
“We’ve started looking for a venue we like.” I locked my spine and raised my chin high. “Only we haven’t found one yet.”
Pierce stayed silent, and I prayed he wouldn’t stir up trouble before we ate by telling them they wouldn’t be on the invitation list. He’d been adamant about it when we’d discussed who we would invite. “I’m not having those bloodsuckers spoil our wedding,” he’d gritted out.
Thank God, Bethany, George, and Archie chose that moment to come through a door at the far end of the room. “Tea’s ready,” the boys announced.
One thing which struck me about the meal…tea was, in fact, served as the beverage. Bethany had made shepherd’s pie and everyone dove in hungrily. Everyone except me. The food I’d eaten for lunch was still heavy in my stomach. I used the excuse of jet lag for my lack of appetite and sipped my milky tea instead.
“How did you and Pierce meet?” his mom asked, raking her gaze over me.
“I’m his stylist. We’ve known each other a couple years.”
“Mixing business with pleasure, eh?” David Fox spoke with his mouth full, spraying mashed potato and mince onto Bethany’s pristine white tablecloth.
I caught the anger in Pierce’s expression and reached for his hand under the table. Don’t say anything, I shot him the message with my eyes. Not in front of the boys.
His broad shoulders eased, and he squeezed my fingers before launching into a discussion with Archie and George about which were the best drum kits for them to learn on. They played guitar, they told me, but wanted to be like their totally cool uncle.
Again, the word sent a chill through me. I reproached myself for being paranoid. Camila had suggested I saw a therapist when I’d told her about Uncle Earl last week. If I carried on reacting like this, perhaps I should…
We managed to survive to the end of supper, or tea, without Pierce killing his father, although a couple of times I think he came close to it. David Fox didn’t say one nice thing to him throughout the meal. He criticized his clothes, saying he could at least have worn a dress shirt, he criticized his attitude, saying he should have brought a gift for his mother, and he criticized the fact that he hadn’t told them in person about his upcoming marriage, leaving them to find out about it from the press.
Finally, we got up from the table, and I heard Pierce whisper to Bethany to keep the boys with her in the kitchen until the coast was clear.
We returned to the living room, with more cups of tea. “If you weren’t off the wagon, we’d be enjoying a few cans of lager,” David Fox slurred. Had he mixed something into his tea?
Before I could blink, Pierce had leaped up and grabbed his father, pulling him to his feet and pinning him to the wall. “You fucking bastard,” he spat into David’s eye. “Not only did you sell my story to the tabloids, after I’d worked my ass off making enough money to buy you somewhere nice to live and fund your addictions, but you act like I’m a piece of dogshit under your shoe.”
My heart almost exploded from my chest as Dawn rushed across the room and tried to insert herself between them. “Stop it, Pierce.” She was visibly shaking. “You’ll hurt your dad…”
Pierce released his grip and ran his big palms through his hair. “I fucking hate both of you. I never wanna see you again. You’ve had your last penny from me.”
“Aw, lovie, don’t be like that,” Dawn wheedled. “We’re your parents. You can’t cut us out of your life.”
“I can and I will,” Pierce snarled.
“We never thought you’d mind.” David wiped his eye. “I mean, what happened in the Philippines had already hit the headlines.”
“You saw your cash cow disappear and decided to milk it for what it was worth,” Pierce repeated what he’d said to me. “This is the last time you fuck me over.”
He reached for my hand and called out to Bethany that he’d phone her tomorrow. “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart,” he muttered, pulling me toward the door.
The minute we arrived in our hotel room, he went to the mini bar, and flung it open. I gasped. What the hell? He extracted a can of beer and pulled the tab. No, not now. Not after all you’ve done to stay sober. I wanted to scream the words, but my mouth had gone completely dry. Then, like it was in slow motion, he lifted the can over his head, and, with a snarl, hurled it at the wall. “Fuuuck,” he bellowed. The amber-colored liquid sprayed out and wet the carpeted floor.
All the way back from his sister’s he’d stayed silent, seething, and refusing to speak. I should have realized this was coming. I ran to him, wrapped my arms around his waist. “Shh, honey. I’ve got you. What went down tonight was really shitty. You have every right to be pissed.”
“Me? Pissed? I’m beyond pissed. I’m fucking ballistic.”
“C’mon,” I kissed his chest, right next to the silver amulet I’d given him, that he’d had engraved with my name. “Let’s go to bed. You need to calm down and I know what will make you feel more relaxed.”
“How well you know me.” He sniffed at his armpits. “But I need a shower.”
“You’re my dirty rocker, despite your hair cut,” I snickered.
&n
bsp; “In that case…”
His smile was filled with lust, and we tumbled onto the bed.
I stripped him, pulling off his tee and unzipping his pants. He kicked off his shoes. I trailed kisses down his pecs to his abs. Puffing out a breath, I kneeled between his legs. I looked up at him, then shunted forward to kiss his balls and lick up and down his beautiful cock. He smelled musky, but not unpleasant.
“Ah, baby,” he hissed. “That feels so fucking good.” He took my fingers and curled them around the base of his dick. “Squeeze.”
I did as he asked, then stretched my mouth wide to suck him in.
He held the back of my head and stepped up the pace, diving deeper and faster, making me pant. I loved the feel of him on my tongue. Soft skin covering his hardness. With a moan, he fisted my hair. “You’re doing great, love.”
I bobbed my head up and down, holding him with my lips and sucking until my cheeks were hollow. I wanted to make this perfect for him, wanted to show my love.
“Good girl.” With a groan, he spurted into my throat, and coated the back of my tongue.
I swallowed his cum before pulling off him with a pop and wiping my mouth with my hand. Our eyes locked, burning with emotion, and he lifted me up his body, angled my face and kissed me, his mouth crashing against mine, his tongue pushing inside. Breathing through his nose, he unbuttoned my blouse, unclipped my bra and tossed them onto the floor. I wriggled as he unzipped my skirt, pulling it off along with my panties. He knelt between my knees. “Spread your legs wide, baby.”
Every nerve in my body buzzed with desire, and I squirmed against his face as he licked me. “Yes, yes,” I whimpered. I felt him latch onto my clit, oh, sweet Jesus, and he sucked, and swirled his tongue around it. “Inside,” I begged. “I want you inside.”
“Hell, yeah.” His words vibrated on my skin. He inserted his tongue and thrust it in and out of me in a frantic rhythm, and I rocked myself on his face, moaning and tugging at his hair. He reached up to play with my breasts, twisting my nipples while I bucked against him. It was electrifying.