by Ally Vance
But nothing can ever come of this. The last person I loved was Samuel, and it has taken me two years of living with the Stinsons—my foster family—and having extensive therapy to show me that was wrong.
Love is wrong. I learned that the hard way. And I don’t want anything with Dale to be wrong.
Asher breaks the silence. “D’you wanna tell us about it? Your time at the farm?”
Do I? Do I really want them to know how depraved my life on the farm was? Can I stand it if they look at me the way everyone else here does? With pity?
“If it helps, you know what we went through as kids, and it can’t be more fucked up than that.”
I squeeze Asher’s hand. What Asher and Dale went through as children was the stuff of most people’s worst nightmares. When Asher’s parents died in a plane crash on their way back from a medical conference, his aunt and uncle had taken him into their home. They’d been expecting Asher’s inheritance along with him, but were told it was in a trust. Instead of offering Asher a place of comfort and love, they’d decided to find other ways to make up for the lost money. They’d started pimping Dale and Asher out to their friends and sold the sex tapes to fund their lily farm. The boys were forced to have sex with Dale’s father’s friends, as well as each other. It was only when Asher had propositioned a teacher at ten in exchange for a better grade, did the authorities step in and take the boys away. They’d been with the Stinsons ever since.
I inhale a shaky breath at the memory, but Dale must take it as me being nervous. “It’s okay, Raine. You don’t have to share.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I loved it on the farm. I’ve never felt safer or more cherished than when I was there.” I feel Dale stiffen for a brief second, and then it’s as though he forces himself to relax. I feel bad about saying that, but it’s true. I spill it all. About how my mother ran away from home and joined the farm when she was pregnant with me. How when she died when I was a baby the wives all looked after me as if I was their own. How I was groomed to be Samuel’s wife from when I was first able to talk. I tell them about marrying Samuel at fifteen and how treasured he and his other wives made me feel. But right after that, a concerned neighbor reported him to the authorities, resulting in him being arrested for bigamy and having underage sex. The words all run out of my mouth in a long string of sentences until I can barely catch my breath.
I stop and realize that both guys have sat silently, letting me talk the entire time, their faces impassive masks.
“Can I have a moment alone with Raine, please?” Dale asks when it’s clear I’m not going to add anything else.
Asher leans forward and kisses me on my head. “Nothing changes. I still feel the same way about you as I did when we first came into this barn.”
I feel the lump sting my throat and blink back the tears. Once Asher is out of earshot, Dale tilts my face to meet his. “I wish I could say the same, Raine.”
My stomach sinks to my toes, and regret hits me hard as I scramble to get off his lap. But his hands tighten around my waist, preventing me from moving.
“Raine, hear me out. I still feel exactly the same way about you as I always have, but things have to change. We can’t keep doing this.” Dale pulls me tight against him, and at first, I resist, but when I feel him trembling against my skin, I stop and hug him tight. “You know what we’re doing is wrong. We’re both fucked up and have been using each other as an outlet since you got here. That’s not okay. It’s not how we should be dealing with our pasts. And it’s not how we should be together. You mean more than that.”
I start crying against his chest. “Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you too.”
“I will always be here for you. Whenever you need me. I’m not going anywhere. But we can’t do this anymore.”
I nuzzle in tighter. “Hold me for five minutes before you let me go.”
“I’ll hold you for as long as you need. I’m not leaving you, Raine.”
Chapter One
Raine – Age 24
When my body feels too stiff from lying awake all night, I lift Asher’s arm from around my waist and place it gently next to his side. The moon streams in the window, highlighting the collage of tattoos on his arm. As always, my eyes fall to the tattoo of the lily that seems to stand out from all the rest. The flower is deep maroon and nestled on a delicate dew-dropped spiderweb. It’s stunning and similar to the one I have on my right hand. He got the tattoo on my birthday last year as a surprise for me because I love lilies but am severely allergic to pollen from most flowers.
Most people would probably be bowled over by the sweetness of the gesture, but it scared me if truth be told because it suggested a level of commitment I am unable to offer. After the night in the barn, Dale broke up our little threesome, but we remained as tight as ever. Asher and I continued our extramural activities, neither of us willing to let go of the depraved side of ourselves. I guess by now, we are somewhat committed, but as much as I love Asher, I don’t know if I’ll ever be completely comfortable with him etching a permanent reminder of me on his skin. I mean, it will be there forever. Who knows if we have a forever in us?
I pad naked into the living room and take a moment to stare out at the Manhattan skyline from my penthouse window. My bandmates all cautioned me to be frugal with the advance we received from DMW Records when we signed two years ago, but I wanted to live in this moment. We’re an up-and-coming band, and you never know when life is going to turn on the head of a pin, and everything is going to change. If I’m going to lose everything, it’s going to be on my terms. In the meantime, I’m going to damn well enjoy what I have, while I can.
Which probably isn’t going to be for much longer.
Swallowing past the fear roiling in my belly, I make my way over to the bookcase and retrieve my tattered copy of “Rain” by India R. Adams. For a brief moment, I smile when I think about how much I enjoyed the book, but a frown quickly replaces that smile as I realize no handsome elves are going to swoop in and rescue me from my demons. I flip the book open, and as always, when I see the photos nestled between the pages, my stomach twists.
One more photo was added tonight. The reason I can’t sleep.
I had no idea when Bianca sent me the first pic, things would get as bad as they had. Bianca was one of Samuel’s wives at the farm and was like a mother to me after my own died. Being in charge of all Samuel’s wives, and grooming me to become one of them, meant we spent a lot of time together. Of everyone at the farm, I was closest to her, so when her first letter came in the mail, telling me about how disappointed she was in me for being the drummer for Raining Phoenix—how my walk with evil was the reason Samuel killed himself in prison—I was devastated.
She’d even gone so far as to enclose a collage of where Samuel lived in prison compared to my penthouse apartment—pics she’d got from a magazine where I’d showcased my home. The words GREED were pasted over the pics and made me a little sick. But I worked hard to push the guilt away because I needed this. I needed my life now to be as far from my life on the farm as it could be. What happened to me at the farm was no doubt six shades of fucked up, but it was all I’d known for fifteen years of my life. And in some ways, I’d felt more at home there, with Bianca and the other wives, than I’d ever felt anywhere else. So hearing about Bianca’s disappointment in me was hard to swallow.
Unbidden, my mind conjures my first night with Samuel.
My head is a little fuzzy from the wine Samuel gave me at our wedding dinner. I don’t like the swimming feeling at all, but I hadn’t wanted to disappoint him either, so I drank it. I was so proud to be sitting to the left of him with everybody beaming at us, and tonight was the night I’d get to go to his bed-chamber.
Right now, I’m in a smaller room off Samuel’s quarters staring at rows and rows of pretty dresses hanging in a brilliant rainbow display. Excitement trumps nerves at being able to wear anything other than the lemon-yellow uniforms we usually wear. The fan in the c
orner oscillates, and goosebumps prickle my naked flesh as I deliberate which color to wear for my wedding night.
“C’mon, dear, Samuel is waiting for you.” Bianca smiles proudly down at me, her hair tucked into the white cap she wears to cover her beautiful red tresses. I wish she’d always wear her hair loose, but those aren’t the rules, and even having that thought is selfish and frowned upon. My dark hair brushes my back in thick waves, and I want desperately to run my fingers through it, but that’s another no-no.
Instead, I run my fingers through the dresses, feeling my panic at not knowing which to choose. When my fingers brush over a red dress, I stop. I’ve never felt anything so soft before.
“What is this material?”
“That’s satin, my dear. Would you like to try it on?”
I nod, and Bianca takes it from the rack and slips it over my head. It feels like a cool caress, and I can’t resist running my hands over the fabric.
Bianca leans in. “You have ten seconds and then I have to stop you. You know the rules.”
Yes, I do—no pleasure unless the community gets to share in it with you. Not even masturbation is allowed without our sisters in the room to participate or watch. I run my hands along my hips. Branding the feel of the satin against my palms into my memory for later when I’m alone and no one can tell me what to think.
“That’s enough,” Bianca states firmly. “Let’s get this sized.”
She makes the necessary alterations to the dress while I revel in feeling beautiful. When Bianca is done, she takes my hand and meets my gaze in the mirror. Our icy-blue eyes are so similar she could be my biological mother.
“Remember, Raine. Samuel is giving you a precious gift tonight. Do not displease him, or me, in there.”
I nod, swallowing hard. I’ve been looking forward to this for three years. I can’t afford to do anything wrong, or I’ll be just like the other women in the community who didn’t hack it. I want to stand out. I want to be worshipped.
“And as much as your sisters and I tried to prepare your body for Samuel’s invasion, remember it is still going to hurt a lot. No crying out. You don’t want him to feel bad,” she continues.
All Samuel’s wives took turns over the last few weeks getting my body ready for him. It was such an honor to have them come to my room at night to pleasure me and give me advice in preparation for tonight.
“I won’t.”
“Let’s go.”
We make our way down a short corridor and stop in front of the heavy wooden doors leading to Samuel’s bed-chamber. Bianca fluffs out my hair and leans down to press a kiss on my lips. “Make me proud, Raine.”
She opens the door and the first thing I see is Samuel’s wives—my sisters by farm standards—writhing and touching and licking each other in one giant pile of bodies on the mattresses on the floor. The ache between my legs is almost instantaneous as I watch them. It isn’t anything new to see my sisters touching each other, but knowing they were there to share in my special day makes that ache even sweeter.
As soon as they notice me, my sisters stop pleasuring each other. They smile warmly at me and gesture to the bed where Samuel lays against the pillows. He is such a beautiful man. His curly dark hair falls around the pillow, his naked body hard and chiseled. I can’t help thinking he looks a lot like Michelangelo’s David.
Samuel raises up on his elbow and holds out a hand to me. “Come precious. I’ve been waiting for you.”
I’m so nervous, I can feel my heart thundering in my throat, but more than that, I am excited. Ecstatic to be one of his chosen. To be loved and chosen by Samuel is the highest honor. I didn’t want to fail him. I couldn’t fail him.
Bianca leads me around the bed, and Samuel takes my hand in his. I lift the skirt of my gown and crawl onto the bed, my fingers trembling in his. He kisses my shaking hand. “It’s okay, little lamb. You will do well.”
I nod, hoping he isn’t wrong.
Samuel makes me straddle him. He whispers to me that he wants to see how much I am pleasing him. It hurts way more than I expected, but I don’t make a peep. When he comes, my sisters cheer and celebrate, the smile on my face is so wide it hurts. Bianca wipes the blood off Samuel, and my sisters clean me up. Each taking a turn to wash me and tell me how well I’ve done. I am beyond elated.
Tonight, I get to sleep in Samuel’s bed with him. The greatest honor of all.
But the next day, it all ended.
I blink to clear the cobwebs and see the photos have fallen to the ground. Six photos including the photo of greed. All photos of me, all with words from the Seven Deadly Sins splayed in the middle. I bend to pick them up.
Pride: I’m sitting behind my drums looking hot in leather pants and a shimmering silver top. My eyeshadow painted with delicate wings.
Envy: A pic of my face at an award show when someone else won the award for Best New Rock Band.
Gluttony: Dale and I sharing a giant pizza just for laughs. We’ve both got our mouths shoved full of food and are grinning at each other.
Sloth: Me lazing around on my couch, binge-watching Riverdale the week before. It looks like it was taken with a long-distance lens from the apartment building across from me.
Wrath: This one might be the scariest of all. It was taken in my apartment a couple of nights ago and shows me trashing the place after receiving the previous pic. It shows Bianca can get in my apartment and also came with a warning about her wrath and to watch my back. I had to get the locks changed without telling Asher or Dale. I know I have to tell the guys, but I would do that after the show. I needed to get through the show first.
Luckily, Asher came straight home from rehearsal with me, and Dale was meeting me at the arena tomorrow, so there was no chance of them finding out and asking questions.
Asher’s arms circle my waist, and his naked body presses up against my bare back. I snap the book shut, my heart pounding at the thought of him seeing the photos. I turn my head to see if he did, but his face is buried in my neck, and his eyes are closed. “Nervous about the show tomorrow?” His voice, groggy from sleep, whispers against my neck before he kisses me on the shoulder.
“Yeah,” I lie.
“Madison Square Garden, baby. You did it!”
I don’t want to think about tomorrow or any other day in the future. I spin around and run my hands through Asher’s tousled black hair, then push him down till he’s on his knees. Something flashes so briefly in his eyes that I can’t make it out, but then he looks up at me through his long lashes and smirks. His Adam’s apple bobs from underneath the decorative tattoos, and his hands go to my hips moments before he sucks on my clit.
I dig my nails into his scalp and throw my head back, moaning his name as he eats me out. I get lost in the sensations as he sucks and licks me till my body tenses with the build. This is what I need. Exactly what I need. There’s something about standing while Asher goes down on me that gives me a heady sense of power.
“Asher, fuck, don’t stop. I’m going to come.” He sucks harder while he gazes up at me. I’m not even surprised by how fast I come. Asher’s tongue skills are phenomenal, and he knows just how to get me off. I close my eyes and absorb the sensations of my orgasm rolling over me in sharp waves. My legs shake so much that he needs to wrap his arms around me to keep me from falling.
One minute, I’m standing—or rather, leaning—on Asher, and the next, I feel my back against the round mahogany table as he lays me down with his cock pressed against my heat. He pushes into me in one swift move, and my neck arches as I stretch to accommodate his length. It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been doing this, my body will never adapt to how full I feel when Asher is inside me.
Asher leans down, wrapping a hand around my ankle and drawing my leg up to rest on his shoulder. The change of position allows me to take him deeper, and I cry out with pleasure. He’s relentless in his pace, each thrust almost punishing. It hurts, but the good kind. The kind I need to get out of my head. His
hand wraps around my throat, fingers squeezing just enough. It turns me on so much, just the hint of a threat, and I spiral over the edge once more. We never break eye contact—his steely grays to my blue ones as my orgasm crashes over me.
“Fuck, Raine, baby, I’m coming.”
The muscles in Asher’s neck stand out in stark relief as he empties into me. I feel myself clench around him, and I dig my nails into my palms.
Drawing blood.
Getting lost in the pain.
Asher comes back into the living room with a warm cloth to clean me up and a pair of his sweats. He throws the sweats at me, and I catch them midair. “Wouldn’t want you dripping my cum all over these beautiful hardwood floors,” he smirks.
I give him a weak smile. Now that the orgasm haze has worn off, all my troubles have come rushing back.
“You good?” He strides over to me and runs a thumb over my lips.
“Hey, um, would you mind heading back to your own place? I’d like to be alone tonight.”
Concern flashes in his eyes. “Did something happen? Now, when we were fucking? Did I take it too far?”
“No, no. I’d just like to have some time alone tonight.”
“Fuck, baby. Please tell me I didn’t take it too far.”
“Of course not, you know I like it rougher than that.” I wink but then grow serious. “I just really want some alone time tonight.”
Asher’s concerned expression morphs into frustration. This isn’t the first time I’ve pulled this. I’ve been pretty much all over the place since the photos started ramping up.
“You’re not serious, right? It’s three in the morning.”
I scoot off the table and pull his sweats on, bending down to roll the legs up at the ankles before heading to the bathroom. “I’m sorry, I know it is, I’m just too wound up, and I can’t be worried about keeping you up. It just makes me anxious, and I need to get some rest for the show tomorrow.”