by Eve Bradley
I can hear a muffled argument and then her car door slams, and Alexi is bounding back up the steps to the front door. He closes the door behind him and lets out a sigh that sounds like it originates from the depths of his soul.
“God, I need a swim,” he says.
“I mean, she did a fantastic job, didn’t she?” I offer him an awkward smile.
“Yeah. We’re all set,” he agrees and then struts past me and out the sliding doors.
Both Anita and Orlando were sent home for the day and now night is falling. A creamy pink and orange sunset is painted across the window panes, palm trees shiver with a soft wind, and the air is sweet, like freshly cut grass and flowers.
“Alexi, wait!” I stumble after him and follow him down to the pool. He seats himself on the edge, letting his legs dangle in, and I hesitate before following in suit. But I have to know, and I want to understand what just happened.
“What do you want, girl?” he asks me, and I’m reminded that this is his nickname of me. This is what he likes to call me, perhaps to keep distance between us. But we can’t have this continued animosity, not when I have to be around him all the time. Not when I feel so torn between all three of them. I want to reach a resolution. We’re adults, and we should be able to do that.
“What happened in there?” I ask, trying to force myself to sound strong.
His chest sags and he clears his throat.
“I’ve known Luda for a long time. She was my high school girlfriend,” he says and then leans his elbows back on the sidewalk surrounding the pool so that I have to twist my head to maintain my view of him and his muscled modelesque glory. “We were on-again off-again for years. A few years ago I ended things for good, and she, uh, well. She didn’t want me to leave. We were supposed to get married. All that shit. Oh well. That’s the past for you,” he shrugs as if this isn’t a big deal.
“What was the reason you ended things? It couldn’t be because she’s a raging bitch, could it?” I hide a smile, but he snorts and smirks in response.
“Could be,” he laughs dryly. “When I left her she fucking burned me with her curling iron. She’s a psycho. But my family loved her and my mom and dad always wanted me to do the normal shit, you know what I mean? Marriage, family, kids…run myself into the ground becoming a doctor or something. We immigrated from Russia when I was five and there was a limited amount of jobs they wanted us to do. When I started modeling, they kicked me out and I went to live with Luda and her family. Luda’s father worked for Richard Van Doren, and that’s how Shawn and I met.”
This is more of an explanation than I was expecting, and I’m startled. I didn’t realize they’d known each other so long. I’m also shocked that Alexi’s parents kicked him out and put him into that bitch’s house. How long was he abused by her? Because let’s not mistake it, that’s abuse. And if the snapshot of what she said to him in the bathroom is a sample of what she was like on a daily basis, I can’t even imagine what he went through during his younger years.
“That sounds…” I don’t know what to say. My heart hurts for him.
“It’s fine,” he says and exhales hard again. “She’s just the only makeup artist I could get on short notice.”
“Why did she try to bait me into saying I know Kathy and Richard?” I ask.
“She was suspicious. She knows bits and pieces of what Shawn and I do. But I think you handled it well.”
Honestly, I don’t know if this is true but it makes me feel better that he thinks it. Now that I know more, I wish I would have said something to her, or given her a harder time.
“So how did Shawn’s dad die?” I ask, remembering that this is probably something I should know.
“Ah,” Alexi shuts his eyes and tilts his head back as the sun highlights every small soft crest of his face. “Heart problems. He had a heart attack in his Florida home two years ago. Kathy’s still living in the same place, tossing back margarita’s living the good life. Richard spoiled her, not that I can judge. Shawn took over his dad’s entire business when his health started to decline.”
I can imagine it now. A beautiful coastal home filled with luxe furniture, a home bar, beach access, a pool table, daily golfing trips, and romantic walks along quiet backroads. I imagine Shawn’s mom wearing animal prints and attending weekly nails appointments while she gossips about celebrities and other rich socialites with her friends.
I kick my feet in the lukewarm water, staring at the black polish clinging to my toenails. I don’t know who these people are, or were. I wonder a thousand more things. Does Shawn have a good relationship with his mom? Does he ever visit her? How did he get into conning people? Why risk everything? Speaking of risk, suddenly I feel mildly worried that Luda will try to get back at Alexi somehow.
“You don’t think she’ll tell anyone?” I wonder aloud.
“Nah,” he shakes his head and sits up again. “She doesn’t care that much. It’s been two years. Our relationship is usually chiller than it was today. I think her seeing me around another girl just had her jealous.”
I can’t help it, butterflies tangle in my stomach, and I cross my arms as if I want to hide them from him. Should she have been jealous? Does she see something I don’t? My heart goes out to him, and imagining anyone mistreating him makes me furious. No one deserves that.
“Jealous for no reason,” I say, and I’m caught off-guard when Alexi shoves my arm.
“Hey, don’t discount yourself. You’d make any girl jealous.”
I pretend to hold my arm as if he’s hurt me, and then I pull my legs out of the pool. I love his playfulness, and this feels more like how it had been between us, before things started getting messier.
“Oh! You’re going to be like that?” I snicker and shove him back. He laughs and maneuvers so that he’s crouching and able to push me away if he needs to.
“Allie, woah. Calm down,” he laughs and then pushes me back and I almost, almost fall into the pool. My eyes widen, dead set on a new goal. He realizes what’s coming and raises his hands to grab my wrists as I paw and push at him, trying to get his massive body into the pool.
“You said you wanted a swim right?” I’m breathless, and his fingers close around my wrists and he stands, fighting against me. But he’s so fucking strong that I feel like a butterfly trying to move a tree.
“Allie!” he laughs, swinging me around so that I’m the one closest to the pool.
“No! You’re going in mister,” I giggle wildly, my hair messy around my face. I try to rearrange myself so that I’m behind him and I can push him in, but he won’t let me. He pushes me closer to the pool, and we’re both left breathless and laughing.
“My makeup! My makeup!” I remind him hurriedly as he holds me so that only his hands are keeping me from falling in.
Alexi meets my eyes, and I suddenly can’t continue laughing. He loses his smile, pulls me toward him forcefully, and wraps me in a tight, protective embrace. One hand is wrapped around my body and the other cradles my head. I’m lost in the warmth of his arms, once again; trapped in the delicious scent and feel of him. He reminds me of cool metal and spicy warmth like alcohol, and with every breath I breathe, my mouth snuggled into his chest, I’m drinking in this strange mixture.
“I was worried about you,” he reveals, his voice vibrating through my chest. “Don’t do that to me again.”
Emotion rises in my throat and I cling to him, holding onto his jacket like I don’t ever want him to let me go.
“I’ll be more careful,” I promise.
Alexi holds me like this for probably ten minutes and I don’t move. I can’t move. I want this connection so badly. I now know that I can’t stop myself from caring for him, for any of them. So, if this is how it is, as soon as things are good between Shawn and the Young Brothers, I’m going to have to leave. My heart nearly bursts at this thought. I don’t want to leave them. I want to be with them. I want to stay within the safety of Alexi’s arms, with Shawn’s dominating g
aze and his controlling words, and with Rhett’s carefree attitude and delicious kisses. I wish I could tell Alexi I will never hurt him like Luda did, but I can’t promise any of them anything. I’m supposed to be Shawn’s princess, but now even the promise of that feels hollow.
When Alexi finally parts us he kisses the thick makeup on my forehead, and we walk together to the car.
“Alright, in the trunk you go,” Shawn tells me.
The plan is that they’ll take enough photos and video evidence to show that I’m dead. Shawn has me change into a pretty blue sundress, and I contort myself into my best dead-girl position. Shawn drove us out two hours to somewhere that reminds me of the farmlands I crossed while traveling through Missouri. Alexi and Rhett arrived in the Lamborghini only a few minutes after us.
“How do I look?” I ask, closing my eyes and parting my lips. “Dead enough?”
All three of them chuckle.
“Just don’t actually die on us, little miss,” Rhett winks as he draws out his phone. Ugh, Rhett. My heart races when I take in his exotic, bad-boy features.
I think about what Emily would think if she saw me now. What would she say about my predicament? What would she do? She’d probably have turned down the money. Actually, she never would have been on the side of the road strung out of her mind. She would have a job, a house, and she wouldn’t have even glanced in this direction. I think she’d tell me to choose one. I think she’d tell me that there’s absolutely no way you can be falling for more than one man.
But as I look up at all three of them from the bed of the trunk I know that this is insanely, outstandingly, destructively true. I smile awkwardly and then shut my eyes again as Alexi splatters some fake blood across my chest and neck and then where the crime scene was.
I can imagine Alexi will tell Shawn and Rhett that we hugged, so I can only hope that the other two don’t get mad. If they all know I fucked Shawn, they can’t be mad about a hug, can they?
“You’re doing great,” Alexi says, and he trails his fingers along my hip distractingly as he smears the fake blood so that it looks perfect.
Shawn comes around and he also has his phone open. A few flashes, and then it’s all over. They’ve got the evidence they need, and I can hear each one of them sigh in satisfaction. Finally, I open my eyes. Shawn grabs my arm and pulls me out of the trunk, and I hop onto the gravel.
“You make me want to lift that sundress so I can see what’s underneath,” he growls in my ear.
Heat flows through my pelvis, and just him mentioning this has me melting. He throws an arm around my shoulder and returns me to the car. I instantly grab the makeup wipes and start to scrape the layers away until there’s a mountain of them on the floor in front of me. I don’t know how women live under layers of makeup like that daily.
As decided, Rhett would return to the Young Brothers and profess that he witnessed my death. Alexi would go as the assassinator, and then they’d be able to ask them both questions. Alexi would secure the continuation of the contract.
“Good luck!” I shout from the passenger seat of Shawn’s Tesla, and they both smile. These are smiles that sink right down through my bones, that shred my heart into a million needy little pieces. If I didn’t know any better, I would say I’m smitten.
“See you in the morning,” Shawn says to them.
“Bright and early, boss,” Rhett chuckles darkly.
I’m nearly afraid when Shawn comes back to the car with that slow swagger of his. With the other two gone, there’s no stopping anything else from happening. But I’m supposed to be determined not to do anything else with any of them. I can’t let them each have a part of me. But the instant Shawn hunkers down into the Tesla I nearly lose my breath.
He’s so hot. Just being alone with him reminds me of the heaven that exists between us. How did I get so lucky? And how am I so irrationally back and forth? I can’t control myself when I’m with any of them, but the second I’m out from under their eyes I feel like I’m retracting and rethinking everything.
“Did you do as I asked today?” he asks me calmly as he sits and closes the door.
“Did I do as you…” I trail off and then remember. He told me to keep myself wet today. Fuck. I completely forgot.
“I, um,” I stutter and fold my hands in my lap.
“Doesn’t sound like you listened very well, sweetheart,” he says and looks almost as if I’ve wounded him. But beyond this playful woundedness, there’s hardness, a cold silver severity that I know can flash out at any moment.
“I’m sorry Mr. Van Doren,” I whisper.
The tenseness between us makes my body tight. His eyes roaming all over my skimpily dressed body makes me want to squirm, and just knowing the things that he could, or might do to me has the power to undo me.
“Do you not know how to make yourself wet?” he asks me, reaching out and playing with a tendril of my hair.
My breath comes shakily, and I grip my fingers into my lower thighs.
“I…” Is it his presence that makes me unable to complete a sentence? My body betrays my mind. My inner kitten is excited and ready, while my head considers all of the consequences of me continuing our relationship. But being with him now, I know, and he knows exactly who will win. “I haven’t really, well, I have. Just not a lot.”
“Show me.”
The demand is so crisp and sweet. He wants me to touch myself?
“I didn’t have time today,” I say stubbornly.
“I don’t care,” he says, maintaining his composition. “You have to make time for it. You should have touched yourself. I don’t care if you have to do it discreetly while someone else is in the room. When I tell you I want you wet for me, I want you to have come multiple times during the day, so when I come back to you, you’re dripping for me.”
I’m silent, scared shitless as I lean back against the car door. I’ve never done anything like this in front of anyone. I don’t even touch myself regularly. It’s never been one of my top priorities, but now that he says this, it winds me up so much that I distractedly start to play with the edge of my dress.
“Show me.”
This time he is firm, and I break contact with his eyes as I pull my dress up and reveal silk panties. I see him readjust as I slowly, gently start to rub my fingers over the smooth fabric, brushing my fingers down my cleft.
“I’m nervous,” I say.
I see him bite his bottom lip when I say this, and he nods sympathetically.
“Remember what I said. If anything is too much for you, you can stop,” he tells me, holding back the huskiness from his tone. “But sweetheart, you’re making me very, very happy.”
I want to make him happy. I want to have him sweating for me. There’s something so sinfully good about the struggle between us, and I move my fingers slowly at first so that I can see his eyes move with every inch I glide, up and down the slit. After a while of teasing him like this, and watching his crotch grow, I arch my back, tilt my head back, and slip my panties to the side.
“I love that,” he comments, watching with his thumb and index finger supporting his face.
“Good,” I say, hardly able to handle the sensations I’m giving myself. But part of me feels like it’s him who is touching me, and the molten feelings in my core are owned solely by him. Maybe that’s what he wants me to understand, that this pleasure, even if I bring it to myself, is possessed and brought about by his command.
I move lower so that I’m at a better angle and begin to work my fingers inside myself. I whimper, aching for his hands on me. I want this to be him touching me.
“Please…” I gasp.
“Keep going,” he orders, and he sits back and begins to massage his cock through his pants.
I keep moving my fingers over my clit and then deeper, gliding my hands over my thighs and then again over my pussy. The heat has balled there, just at the top of my pelvis, and the threat of its release causes me to nearly quiver. Shawn reaches out and
moves my hand, sliding his finger down my wet center.
“Stop.”
I remove my hands, and before I can do much more, he grabs hold of me and expertly lifts me onto his lap so that I am straddling him.
“This brings back memories, doesn’t it?” I laugh, trying to control the chaos occurring in my body.
“I would have fucked you on that table if you’d have let me,” he tells me darkly, throat rumbling with growls of subdued longing.
I nod, as if telling him I would have too. I try to kiss him, but he moves his face away.
“You want to come now, don’t you, you little brat?” he hisses in my ear, and my exhale leaves me in a flutter of exhausted emotion.
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” I say, curling myself against him, pushing myself against the bulge in his pants. Honestly, if he allowed me, I’d ride him like this because I can’t control the need I have. My body is screaming for release, and apparently he thinks it’s funny to tease me.
I move my pussy against him, letting my juices soak into his crotch.
“You want it so bad don’t you?” he utters at my throat as he starts to trail his lips down my skin, suckling and biting softly. “I know you want me to touch you and make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”
I gasp as he bites me, and I fight to keep humping myself against his bulge. The pain doesn’t worry me; I actually enjoy a bit of pain. It’s his resistance that makes me crazy. I want him to want me more than he wants to punish me.
I lean back against the steering wheel and hurry to pull his cock out of his pants. He holds back a groan and pets my face and neck as I work his pants and finally let his long, thick, beautiful cock out of its confinement.
“You want me too, Mr. Van Doren,” I say boldly, and lift my skirt so that I can use my hands to move his cock so that it slides against my clit. I move it anxiously, delighted as his cock becomes slick from me, and it rubs me so fucking perfectly that I swear only a few more seconds and I’ll come all over him.
We’re both looking down at our bodies, listening to the slick smearing of his cock against my pussy, breathless and wanting. Shawn pushes me back against the steering wheel so that I have to strain to reach him.