Down and Dirty (Scions of Sin Book 3)

by Taylor Holloway

  Nicholas could thrust harder into me from this new position, and I relished every forceful stroke. It was only moments before we were both on the edge of climax. My body felt wildly alive under his touch. I stared right into his eyes as I met the wave of pleasure with a loud moan, seeing his pupils dilate as he watched me come before giving into his own climax a few seconds later.

  We lay together for a long moment after, him on top of me with my legs still up around his shoulders. In the soothing afterglow of sex, I brushed Nicholas’ hair back from his shoulders and he kissed my mouth and then my forehead. His face was peaceful and open in a way I hadn’t seen before.

  Then I looked over and saw Harley staring at us from about six inches away with a doggy facial expression of complete and utter confusion. I snapped back to reality in an instant.

  12

  Nicholas

  Jenna was much more than I deserved. I really should have locked Harley out of the bedroom. The fact that Jenna didn’t yell at me when she looked over and saw Harley’s dumb slobbery face while I was still inside her was something of a miracle.

  Which is not to say that Jenna was at all ok with our canine voyeur. She clearly wasn’t. As soon as I was off of her, Jenna snatched her clothes off the floor and disappeared to the bathroom. She didn’t emerge for a long, long time. I waited and fidgeting impatiently in the bed that now felt cold and empty without her. I was hoping she’d come and lay next to me and take a nap, but when she finally emerged, Jenna was fully dressed.

  “I need to make a couple of phone calls,” she told me, and I somehow managed to feel awkward while lying in my own damn bed. “Do you mind if I make the calls from your truck?”

  She wanted to be alone.

  I fucked up big time, I thought to myself. Way to go, Nick. You actually get the super-hot, highly improbable dream girl to come to bed with you after five years and then you blow it by letting your dog watch.

  “I’m really sorry about Harley,” I told her, not answering her question but feeling compelled to at least offer an apology about the thing that offended her. “I should have closed the door.”

  “Hmm?” Jenna said, acting confused, “Oh no, don’t worry about it.”

  A very sizeable part of me wanted to beg her for mercy and ask her to lay down and let me hold her, but I still had too much pride to do that. Maybe it wasn’t Harley that had Jenna going cold, but she was clearly quite done with me. I reminded myself that I couldn’t expect anything from Jenna and had no right to do so. I didn’t know her, not really. It was completely possible that this was her normal operating procedure. Maybe Jenna never cuddled with men after sex. Some people aren’t naturally affectionate in that way. Or maybe she had a boyfriend she just cheated on and felt bad about it. Hell, for all I knew about Jenna, maybe she had a girlfriend she just cheated on and felt bad about it. I tried not take her desire to be alone personally.

  “Yes of course you can make your phone calls in my car,” I finally said when she continued to look at me with a polite, expectant expression, “the keys are in my back pocket…”

  Beating me to my pants, which were still lying on the ground, Jenna scooped them up, and extracted the keys.

  “I won’t be long,” she told me, already backing out of the bedroom and edging toward the front door.

  “Jenna, are you ok?” I asked, unable to resist at least asking. If I’d done something to offend her, I at least wanted to know what it was. Maybe there was nothing I could do to fix it, but I could apologize and at least set my conscience at ease.

  “I’m fine,” she said, smiling at me with a smile that said she was not fine at all. She bolted out the door to the garage before I could say another word. I heard the truck start a second later and made a mental note to go out there in thirty minutes if she was still sitting in the garage. Carbon monoxide poisoning was no joke.

  Once Jenna was clearly not coming back right away, Harley jumped up on the bed with me. She lumbered over and lay next to me.

  “Get down,” I snapped at her instantly.

  Harley knew she wasn’t allowed on the bed. Apparently, the day’s unusual activities had her wondering if she was allowed to do new things too. She slunk off down to the ground with her tail between her legs.

  “This is all your fault,” I told her, but not in a tone that actually meant anything to a dog. In evidence of the fact that tone was everything, Harley wagged her tail and put her head flat on the bed to look at me with big, hopeful eyes. “You had to go and be all creepy. I finally get laid after five years, and you totally ruined it by weirding her out. Do you understand me Harley? I hadn’t had sex for longer than you’ve been alive? And you messed it up?”

  Harley obviously didn’t understand. She did wag her tail though. I scratched behind her ears and she looked up at me with pure, unconditional love and adoration. It was impossible to be angry with her.

  If this had been a normal hookup situation and Jenna could have just gone home, I would have continued to sulk in my bed for at least several hours—possibly the rest of the day. Unfortunately for both of us, she was only able to escape to the truck and would soon return. Therefore, I would eventually need to put on clothes.

  I rose from my bed irritably, pulling my clothes back on with a petulant reluctance. The whole cabin felt weirdly quiet and uncomfortable without Jenna. All of a sudden, I felt lonely. It was really an odd sensation. Jenna had only been here one day, and now her absence felt alien. Solitude was definitely not something that I was good at. I’d eventually adapted to the quiet, but after Jenna left, I’d have to re-adapt. Hopefully it didn’t take another five years.

  I pulled out my mostly empty bottle of whiskey and poured myself a glass.

  13

  Jenna

  I wasn’t unhappy or angry at Nicholas, although I could tell from the expression on his face that he thought that I must be. I was honestly just overwhelmed.

  Alone in the truck, I tried to sort through what I was feeling. Even though we rushed things, sex with Nicholas had been on another level. Never before had anyone made me feel so alive. For a moment I’d totally forgotten everything but him and me and our need for one another. Even now, my body felt loose and relaxed. Muscles that I didn’t even know were tense (or realize even existed), were soothed and reinvigorated.

  But as soon as I slammed back to Earth, I knew that it had meant absolutely nothing. As much as I had enjoyed myself, I’m not the sort of person that knows how to separate sex from my feelings. So, to have the most exciting sexual experience of my life and then to be reminded that it was a random one-off? I felt cheated.

  My last relationship had been over a year ago, and although I’d been on a few decent dates since then, no one had really piqued my interest. I didn’t have a ton of leisure time with my busy schedule, so it felt like a waste to spend time with anyone that I wasn’t really into. No one had ever piqued my interest like Nicholas. And now I would have to leave that interest behind, taking with me only the knowledge that the best sex of my life was with a guy who lived three thousand miles away. And if that weren’t bad enough, Nicholas was also my boss’ boss’ son.

  I took a few deep breaths and reminded myself that sex with Nicholas was not a bad decision. Living a little bit was allowable now and then, plus there were lots of other men in the world to have relationships with. I’d meet someone else who would be much better for me than Nicholas. My heart was not going to get broken because it was never on the line, and there was no way it would get back to my boss or Richard unless I told them. Everything was fine.

  After my internal pep talk, I fired off an email to Oliver to tell him that I was coming back tomorrow and would be back in the office Monday. The rental car company had left a message saying that they were sending a replacement vehicle for me to Bear’s Bend. My small piece of real business completed, I trudged back inside. Hiding in the truck wasn’t going to help anything.

  Nicholas was drinking on his couch. He looked up in a
pparent surprise that I’d come back so quickly. Harley looked unhappy that I’d come back at all.

  “Did you make your calls?” Nicholas asked politely.

  I set myself down on the couch next to him and helped myself to a glass of his whiskey.

  “There were no calls,” I admitted, “I was just… I needed a moment.”

  He smiled encouragingly me. I felt somehow compelled to continue.

  “I don’t do stuff like this,” I babbled at him, “That sounds cliché but it’s true. I’m not very spontaneous. Especially with men. I’m not sure what to do now. I don’t want to make this weird, but I figured it’s probably just better to tell you.”

  Nicholas looked over at me from his side of the couch and reached out his hand to grab mine. He moved with an obvious, exaggerated slowness. I could tell he was giving me the chance to pull away. I didn’t. Instead, I scooted closer to him and he put an arm around my waist instead. It felt good and my traitorous body relished the closeness and the smell of his skin. I instantly felt better.

  “I’m not very spontaneous either,” he replied, “and I was worried I’d done something to make you angry or sad. I’m glad you told me how you were feeling.”

  We sat quietly for a second until I took a drink of the whisky and forced it down my throat. It was absolutely putrid. Nicholas laughed at my facial expression.

  “You’re not much of a whisky drinker, are you?” He asked.

  I shook my head.

  “I’ve been trying to acquire a taste for more grown up liquor,” I told him, “the only things I like right now are really sweet girly mixed drinks. If it has a little paper umbrella in it, I’ll probably enjoy it. I’m tired of being judged for not liking the right things at work parties and happy hours. Oliver said people won’t take me seriously if I order strawberry daiquiris and apple-tinis all the time.”

  Nicholas smirked and rolled his eyes.

  “There’s nothing wrong with liking those kind of drinks,” he said, “you shouldn’t let people make you feel bad for having preferences about food. They’re just snobs.”

  “Durant Industries is full of snobs,” I agreed, “but some of them are snobs that can promote me. So, I know I need to fit in better at the office. That means drinking fancier drinks, knowing about wine, keeping up with the financial markets, reading the right newspapers. You know, pretending like I’m not from Clifftop.”

  I shrugged, and Nicholas sighed.

  “I like you the way you are. You shouldn’t have to change your drink preferences just to make a bunch of stodgy old men take you seriously. Your work ought to speak for itself.”

  I shifted uncomfortably under his arm. He didn’t get it.

  “That’s true, but it’s also easy for you to say,” I replied. I was getting frustrated. “Your last name is Durant. You can do whatever you want. If you wanted to drink nothing but strawberry daiquiris people might laugh at you behind your back, but they’d just write it off as eccentricity. But if I do it, I’m just a dumb, low class girl from New Jersey with no palate for pinot noir. If I want to be promoted, I have to project the right image. You just have to show up. Besides, if you really wanted to change the culture at Durant Industries, you probably shouldn’t have moved to Alaska.”

  Nicholas didn’t say anything for a moment. He had to know I was right. The rules were different for women and men, and for rich and poor. Pretending otherwise was short-sighted.

  “What do you want to get promoted to?” Nicholas asked, changing the subject. I grinned.

  “I’ve applied to the VP of Research and Development position that just opened up. I’m really hoping that I get it.”

  Nicholas looked like he wanted to say something, but all he did was nod and kiss me on the forehead. Nicholas probably knew that the position reported to his father and didn’t want to get into that topic.

  “Good luck,” he finally told me, “I hope you get the promotion if that’s what you want.”

  We cuddled on the couch like that for a long time. I might not have the right words to say to Nicholas, and he might not know what to say to me either, but the physical contact was comforting. It was better than talking. Despite the fact that I’d be leaving forever in a few hours, it was hard to wrap my mind around the thought of never seeing Nicholas again. I wasn’t ready to believe it.

  14

  Nicholas

  Jenna was gone. We’d slept together in my bed the night before, twisted around one another in a warm, contented tangle of limbs and lips. I’d woken up happier than I’d been in years. I was just happy to watch her breathe and dream next to me and would have given anything for another freak snowstorm and a few more days. Predictably, Alaskan weather refused to cooperate. But now she was on her way back to her life in Philadelphia, and I was on my way back to my cabin.

  When Jenna had waved goodbye to me from her replacement SUV, I’d fought the irrational desire of doing something really stupid like telling her everything or begging her to stay with me and get married. I knew neither was an option, but it had been hard to resist.

  My cabin looked the same as it always had when I returned; it was my four hundred square feet of purgatory. The only difference was the folder containing the will that was still sitting on my coffee table, unopened. It was taunting me now that Jenna was gone, so I figured I might as well read the damn thing and then throw it away.

  I read through the document with disinterest. It was really not very interesting, in fact, it was pretty much exactly what I expected from a legal perspective. I was now one step closer to personally owning my chunk of Durant Industries. Only I wasn’t, because I was living the life of Lewis Cassidy, and he didn’t exist.

  “Guess what Harley?” I said, and she woke up and stared at me inquisitively. “We’re rich!”

  She looked thrilled. Ever since it became apparent that Jenna wasn’t returning, Harley had been the world’s happiest dog. She sniffed all around the cabin when we returned, just to make sure Jenna wasn’t hiding anywhere. Satisfied that there was no more redheaded interloper, Harley lay down on top of my feet for a nice nap.

  As I was thumbing through the last few pages of the will, a sheet of paper fell out into my lap. At first, I thought that maybe the attorneys had accidentally forgot to staple one of the pages, but when I picked it up I saw that it was a note—addressed to me. It was very straightforward, just a phone number and a few words:

  Nicholas call me ASAP. Nathan.

  The last time I’d seen my cousin Nathan had been at yet another fancy Air Force ceremony where he was receiving a medal or a promotion or something. It seemed like I ended up watching something get pinned on Nathan’s chest at least once a year. The man earned accolades in his sleep, and the ceremonies were a pain because it’s very hard to pick up women when all the other men were in uniform. Nathan had recently been accepted to the astronaut program in NASA, and while I had not followed my cousin’s more recent career, I had no doubt that in the intervening years he’d done well for himself. Nathan was one of those irritating people that seemingly can’t be unsuccessful at anything. He’d been smart to distance himself from Durant Industries, too. Smarter than me.

  I stared at the note with distrust. Was this a trap? I tried to figure out why Skylark would try to locate me this way when they could just as easily have just asked Jenna. Instead, they’d made her sign a twelve-page non-disclosure agreement that said she would never reveal my location, unless I was deceased. If this was a trap, it was decidedly more elaborate than it needed to be. Especially when I factored in the whole Ashram thing.

  The note also looked like Nathan’s handwriting. He had a distinctive, loopy script. I’d always thought it was funny that Nathan would have such neat, pretty handwriting when his twin brother David’s handwriting looked like he was constantly struggling to write in a foreign alphabet. Growing up, my birthday cards from the pair looked like they were signed by a founding father and a chimpanzee. If David had left me the note I probably
wouldn’t have been able to read it.

  “Do you think I should call the number?” I asked Harley. She looked at her food bowl and then back at me; she just wanted dinner.

  I wanted to call the number. After five years alone, two days with Jenna had driven me out of my mind. The idea of spending the rest of my life up here in Alaska, even with Harley and the many, adorable descendants of Harley, was no longer something I could envision.

  Before I dialed the number, I made a plan. If it wasn’t Nathan who answered, I would leave Alaska immediately. I would abandon the cabin, pack up Harley and drive east into Canada. I’d go find another small town, up in the Yukon. I’d pay cash for another cabin, take on a new name, and do the whole hiding in plain sight thing again.

  Maybe it was time for a change. I prayed my shitty burner phone would cooperate and grab some signal, dialed up the number, and held my breath. The call was answered on the third ring.

  “Nathan Breyer?” I asked carefully.

  “Yes?” Nathan’s voice was unmistakable. God, he still sounded like such a conceited prick. I’d never been so relieved.

  “Hey, um, it’s Nicholas,” I replied weakly. To be honest, I hadn’t actually considered what I would say to Nathan. “Your note said to call. I found it today in the will.”

  “Holy shit!” Nathan swore, and I could hear the sound of something crashing, or perhaps being dropped, through the phone line. “That worked? Is it really you?”

  “I think so,” I replied. “Do you want me to prove it or something?”

  Nathan laughed.

  “No, it’s definitely you. Only you could call up after more than five years and sound so fucking nonchalant. Where the hell have you been?”