by Kira Blakely
“What are you talking about, kid?”
“You fucked my ex-girlfriend!” Jake yelled. “Dad, what the fuck were you thinking?”
“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. Did you smoke dope again?” A habit I’d hoped I’d rid him of. “I’m nowhere near your girlfriend.” But I still have the memory of meeting her.
Heather Henderson – we were introduced in the hallway outside his room. She’d had long blonde hair, the softest expression in her eyes, and she’d smelled gorgeous, floral and gentle. Sweet. The instant attraction had overwhelmed me at the time, but I’d brushed past it.
“Then how come my friend Becky just called me and told me you fucked her?” Jake asks.
“Wait, she’s your ex? I thought you were still dating.”
“I broke up with her because she wouldn’t fuck me. Guess I was wrong to do it,” he replies. “Sounds like she’s a little whore now.”
I blink at the harsh words from my son. When did he become a jackass? “You’re mistaken. I’m on an island retreat.”
“She’s there, too. Mystique Island. Becky told me everything.”
My stomach drops. I look up at Vixen, at her blond hair. That floral scent that is so familiar to me bursts through my denial. “Jake,” I say, “I’ll have to call you back.”
“Dad!”
I hang up and drop the phone on the bed. She’s on the other side of it, staring at me, her hands wrapped in her silken robe, holding it closed. She’s folding in on herself, backing away.
“That was Jake,” I say.
“Oh,” she whispers.
“Is it you, Heather?”
She hovers on the spot, shakes her head, then nods, swallows. “I –” But she cuts off and darts for the door.
I chase after her, heart pounding, a sick lurch in my stomach driving me to catch her before it’s too late. “Wait!”
My girl—she was my girl—rushes out of the villa. The door slams behind her and I’m left staring after her, caught between my only son and the feelings that I haven’t felt since I lost his mother.
Chapter 16
Heather
I run as fast as my legs can carry me, the mask still on and tears squeezing between it and my cheeks. God, he knows. How does he know? How the hell does Jake know? Guilt sears me, forces me onward.
I trip over my bare feet and my robe bursts open. I scramble it closed again and race toward my villa. It’s not too far from Nicholas’, and that in itself brings another surge of guilt.
You should’ve told him. Or you should’ve refused to see him.
But both options don’t sit right with me, and it’s too late to worry about them now. Nicholas knows who I am and he’s probably mad as hell that I haven’t told him the truth.
I finally reach the villa and crash into the door. I open it and rush inside, slam into the wall and rest my forehead against it, breathing hard. This is it. This is rock bottom.
No, this is lower than that. I’m buried beneath the rock, struggling for air. He’ll never speak to me again, and Jake will spread rumors about this at Columbia. Everyone’s going to think I’m a crazy slut.
But how does he know? I can’t work that part out and it swirls through my brain, followed by the shock in Nicholas’ eyes.
“I told you to stay away from him.”
I look up and swallow more of that bitter shame.
Becky stands in the doorway, her fists on her hips. She’s red from the line of her hair, down to her pale chest, exposed by a bikini. Her mask is off, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You’re a fucking idiot, Heather. I told you to stay away from him and you refused. I had no choice.”
“You told Jake.” It hits me right between the eyes, a bolt from the blue. “Why would you do that? We’re friends!”
“We were friends until you went and broke the rules. I wanted you to have fun here, Heather, but you took things too far. You’re so self-involved you can’t even see what you’re doing here.”
“I’m not doing anything.” I ball my hands into fists but it does nothing to quell the shaking.
“All you had to do was stick to the rules. Just lose your damn virginity, have fun, not get involved with Jake’s father, for fuck’s sake!”
“Why would you tell him, Becky?” I ask again, because she still hasn’t answered the question.
Her face contorts into a picture of rage, her lips peel back, her eyes narrow to slits. “Because you have everything,” she spits. “Everyone loves perfect little virginal Heather. Heather the A-student on her scholarship. Heather who landed Jake. Did you know I saw him first? I did!”
“What?” I reel and catch myself on the wall. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious. And I would have satisfied Jake,” Becky continues, pressing a palm to her chest. “Unlike you. But he chose you over me, regardless. And now you’re with his dad! What are you going to be, his stepmom? Agh!”
“I’ll be whatever I want to be,” I say. “You’re certifiable. If you want Jake, take him. I don’t love him anymore, and god knows, he treated me like dirt. You two deserve each other.”
Becky trembles with fury. “And take your shitty seconds? No thanks. I’ve spent too long in your shadow, Heather.”
“You don’t make any sense,” I whisper. None of this makes sense to me. If she likes him so much, she should take him. And why hasn’t she told me any of this before? “I don’t understand why you’ve done this. I’ve never tried to make you less than me or to make you feel that way.”
“Then why did you do it?” Becky asks. “You showed me up in every single situation. And don’t tell me you didn’t do it on purpose. I know when you’re lying.”
“I didn’t!” I yell, then suck in a breath to calm myself. This is bullshit. Becky’s ruined everything and I’m just entertaining her massive ego.
“You did,” she replies. “You’re not a true friend. I can’t believe I wasted my time with you.”
“Get out,” I say. “Get out of my villa. I don’t want to speak to you again.”
“Fine by me, bitch.” Becky throws up a hand, then turns on her heel and stomps from the room. She leaves the door open behind her.
I sink to the floor, my back still pressed against the wall. I hate this. I hate every moment of what’s happened over the past half hour and there’s not a damn thing I can do to change it.
I get up, slowly, haltingly, and walk over to my bedside table. I open the drawer and bring out my cell phone. I have no missed calls. Not one. Jake cares enough to yell at his father but not at me.
Maybe if I tell him to back off, I can fix this. No, that’s impossible. Nicholas loves his son, he respects him, even though Jake is a total dick, and he’ll never get involved with me, now that he knows who I am.
Tomorrow’s the day I leave Mystique. I don’t have much to pack – the island provided almost everything for me – but I toss the cell, the sunblock I brought, and my contraceptive pills into my handbag.
I rush to my closet and rip open the doors, search for the clothes I wore on the plane over here – a simple cotton dress and flip flops, then change. In minutes, I’m ready to leave, but I’ve still got nowhere to go.
There’s an entire afternoon of regret ahead of me, and an evening of shame after that.
My energy drains, and finally, I sit down on the chaise lounge in front of my bed and give up. This is over. There’s nothing I can do to change that.
Chapter 17
Nicholas
I stand in the doorway and stare after her, but she’s gone already.
Heather Henderson.
My son’s ex-girlfriend, and I’ve spent the last two days fucking her brains out. I pace back to the living room and sit down on the sofa, still naked. I can’t work out what to do about this.
I rip the mask off my face and toss it across the room.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Fuck!”
This is a mess. My phone buzzes from the bedroom but I
don’t need to pick it up to know who’s calling. If I answer now, Jake’s anger will ultimately make me say something I regret.
What had Heather told me? Down on the beach yesterday, she’d revealed that her ex-boyfriend cheated on her because she wouldn’t put out.
My son cheated on her and possibly broke her heart for something as shallow as sex. Sure, he’s young, but when did he become an asshole?
I grit my teeth and run my fingers through my hair. I can’t let this happen.
Whether Jake likes it or not, I’m not going to give up on this girl. She’s young, she’s beautiful, and she’s intelligent. From what Jake revealed, she gets better grades than him at Columbia.
If I let her go, I’ll never see her again. My son will have to deal with the fact that I want her, that she’s mine, now.
After all, I spent my life building a business for him, only to have him fritter away money and act like he doesn’t give a shit about what I’ve set up.
I rise from the sofa and walk through to the bedroom at last, spare a glance for my cell, then move to the closet and open it. Inside are the suits, shirts, jeans, and shoes I picked out for this weekend.
I put on a tight white t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans, then spritz on some Armani. I’m not giving up on this, and to hell with Jake and his expectations. The pressure of business and loneliness has weighed on me for too long.
I stride out into the living room, then out the front door. Laughter and the sounds of sex, moans, grunts, emanate from everywhere on this island. Couples caught in the throes of passion, two people in the sand just ahead, a woman atop a man, her tits bronzed by the morning sunlight.
I ignore it all and march around the side of the villa, kicking up fountains of white sand.
The door to her place is open and I walk up to it, then step inside.
She’s on the sofa, her head bowed.
“Heather,” I say.
She snaps upright and inhales. “Nicholas,” she says.
I walk up to her, help her from the chaise lounge in front of her bed. We stand facing each other, our breaths mingling again, her chest pressed to mine.
And there she is.
Her cheeks wet but rosy. A heart-shaped face, lips full, succulent, and the cute button nose I’ve longed to see these past two days. I run a finger down her jaw and smile at her. “There you are,” I say.
“Here I am,” she replies, casting her gaze downward, refusing to meet mine.
I pinch her chin in two fingers and force her attention onto me. “You’re beautiful.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I should’ve told you when your mask slipped off but I couldn’t. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to be with me again, and I was in too deep. I – I’ve loved every minute of this weekend with you.”
A cold breeze gusts through the open door behind us and dances across my skin, raising the hairs on her arms.
“You’re cold,” I say.
I release her and walk to the door, shut it, lock it.
“What are you doing?” she asks. “You should be leaving. We’ve done the worst thing imaginable. What will Jake say?” Heather’s so fragile, she’s gripping her arms and shivering. What can I do to make her realize what she means to me?
What this entire weekend has meant to me?
“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time,” I say. “The only time I meet women is here, and it never lasts long.”
She nods. “I understand.”
“No, Heather, you don’t. This is something special. It’s different to what I’ve had before, and I’m sure as fuck not going to let my sloppy son get between us.”
“But –”
“He hurt you,” I say, and anger burns a hole through my chest. God damn, I raised him better than this! “He made you feel less than what you were and you came here.”
“Yes.”
“And met me. That’s some kind of fate,” I say. “I’d like to see where this goes.”
Heather trembles and wriggles that adorable button nose. Christ, I’ve missed so much of her. Now, I’ll be able to watch her facial expressions in full, to watch her as she comes.
That’s all I want right now. I want to show her she’s mine.
I take her by the hand and lead her around the chaise lounge to her bed. “Come here,” I say.
I remove her sundress first and let it fall to the floor.
“We shouldn’t,” she whispers.
“Haven’t you been listening? We should.” I unhook her bra and let it fall next. Lastly, I hook my thumbs into her panties and pull them down over her thighs and right down to the floor.
I kiss her ankle, her calf, the inside of her knee, her thigh, the crest of her pussy, her lower abdomen, then stand up.
Heather sways on the spot, liquid brown eyes hazy with desire, which curls through me even now.
“Nicholas,” she whispers.
Chapter 18
Heather
Nicholas is in front of me, larger than life, without his mask and me without mine, and I won’t turn away now. He wants me, still. Even though we’ve embroiled ourselves in this weird affair, he still wants more.
I do, too.
“Heather,” he says.
The sound of my name on his lips sends shivers through me. It’s so forbidden, but at the same time, it’s not. He believes it’s not, and I don’t want to argue with him and convince him otherwise.
I want to enjoy this.
This is the first man I’ve ever been with and he just happens to be the best man, the sexiest, and the father to my dirt bag ex.
Nicholas strips off his shirt and drops it beside my clothes. He undoes the top button of his jeans, zips them down, then removes them.
I can’t help staring at his face. At every feature, drinking in the slight kink in his nose, the sight of his blue eyes, watching me, and the shape of his cheekbones, high, well-defined. After two days of dreaming about the face beneath the mask, this is my reward.
I brim with desire. My heart pounds out a beat against the inside of my ribcage, nerves tickle my insides.
“I told you, you’re mine,” he says.
I’m seriously seconds from legitimately swooning for this man.
Nicholas wraps his arms around me and draws me close. His dick presses against my abdomen, and I clench tight for him.
We’re truly naked with each other now. No barriers, no misconstrued information.
I’m Heather and he’s Nicholas, and we both want this.
I inhale the scent of his cologne, and the skin beneath it, then close my eyes. I’ll savor this moment, the truth for as long as we’re together. If we’re together. Don’t dwell on that now, for god’s sake.
Nicholas cups my cheeks in both hands, brings us closer to each other, then places his lips on mine.
The kiss is deep, everything I’ve felt over the past two days rolled up into one experience. His tongue teases mine, then massages, then probes deep. His fingers creep up to the nape of my neck and he grasps a fistful of hair.
I lean into him, breathe in through my nose, heart fluttering.
Nicholas slides his hands down, over my shoulders, smoothing the skin there. He breaks the kiss, then bends and takes one of my nipples in his mouth and suckles on it, nibbles it, gently.
I snag fistfuls of his hair and tug on it, pleasure bubbling through me at his touch.
My skin prickles; I sway again. My knees buckle, and he catches me.
“Here,” he says, and lifts me onto the bed.
It’s been a long day, and all the pressure and tension has built up to this point. I lie back and watch him.
Nicholas slides between my legs, parts my thighs and blows on my pussy, gently. The cool air gives me a rush, and I squirm. He rewards me with a grin, then takes one long lick from my slick entrance all the way to my clitoris.
The squirming turns into a kick of my legs.
He pins them down and continues, sucking and eating, maki
ng appreciative noises between my legs.
I toss my arms over my head and grab the pillow, squeezing it tight. “Nicholas,” I moan. “Oh, it’s so good.”
“Good,” he says, between licks. “I’m going to make you come again, Heather.”
My name from that mouth. I tremble against him, open my legs wider, and accept the sweet ecstasy that starts on his tongue and travels through my center. Shots of it. I’m so close, but I can’t come yet.
“Fuck me,” I breathe, and the words come out rushed, almost pained. “Please, Nicholas. I need you inside me, right now. I can’t take a second more.”
He immediately stops and shimmies up my body, planting kisses at strategic spots, open mouthed and moist: my inner thigh, my stomach, my left breast, my collarbone.
Nicholas sucks on my neck, and I slap my hands to his back, feel the taut muscles beneath my fingertips.
“Please,” I whisper. The heat blinds me, I’m trapped in the moment, and I need the release only his cock can provide.
Nicholas presses his dick inside me and groans. “Oh god, fuck. I love that tight, wet cunt. You’re so fucking tasty.”
I crane my neck and lick my own juices off his lips, off his chin. “Deeper.”
He presses the shaft into me, buries himself to the hilt as he has before. “Fuck, yes,” he grunts, and pulls out again, all the way. He rams into me again and again, then pulls out and turns me onto my side.
“Where are you going?”
“Right here,” he says and slips in behind me. He enters me from the side, lifts my leg a little, and kisses my neck, more of the soft, wet kisses that take me higher. “Finger yourself.”
I do as I’m told. My finger circles my clit and I twitch against him.
Nicholas ups the pace, grabs the back of my neck and forces me to bend double. He pounds into me, again and again, rocking my entire body. My tits bounce, my finger is caught between my legs, but it’s good enough.
I approach the crest again, scream toward it. “Nicholas,” I whisper. “I’m going to – I’m –” The orgasm shatters what I wanted to say, obliterates it from my mind.