by Reid, B. B.
The sweet and woodsy scent of his clove soap wafted off his warm skin, so I knew he must have taken a shower last night. Combined with the intensity of his green gaze, I felt like I was standing in the middle of an evergreen forest. If that forest also smelled like vanilla.
“I know you’re mad,” I blurted when he shoved his sweats off his hips. He then reached over Loren, still sleeping deeply next to us, to flip open the wallet he’d left on the nightstand. I knew already what Houston would grab from inside.
“Mad? No.” Plucking a condom free from Loren’s wallet, Houston tore it open with his teeth before I watched him roll it down his long, thick dick. “I’m livid, baby.”
I tasted cherries on my tongue while my head was scrambling to figure my way out of the trouble I’d landed myself in.
“Okay, I hear you, and I’m ready to talk now.”
“I’m sure you are,” he returned dismissively.
I felt him tug my panties to the side, the only thing I’d worn last night, before testing my readiness with the head of his dick. I was wet for him, but he already knew that.
He slowly pushed inside once he was done teasing me, and he didn’t stop until I’d taken every inch. Still unused to him, he stole my breath even as my legs fell open to make room for him. I felt his mouth skim my neck as he took his time fucking me, and lost in the sensation, I turned my head to kiss him.
As if the war he waged on my body wasn’t enough, he chose to play with my heart as well when he dodged my lips.
“Houston,” I heard myself whine.
I tried to kiss him again, but he continued to elude me. Turning my head away in frustration, I saw the hint of his smile from the corner of my eye and hated him even as I loved what he did to my body.
Houston inevitably picked up the pace, making the bed rock and the headboard slam into the wall as he fucked me harder and deeper under the covers while Loren and Rich slept next to us. I knew I must have worn them out yesterday since they didn’t stir once the entire time Houston fucked me.
We didn’t even try to keep quiet.
If Loren and Rich woke up, I’d let them have a turn too until they were sated, and I was drained of every drop.
I was the whore of Faithful, after all.
The scarlet who’d corrupted good Catholic sons.
The incarnate Hester Prynne who didn’t just stop at one or even two.
I moaned as Houston rose onto his forearm. His other hand then gripped my hip as he wildly slammed his hips against mine with short, brutal thrusts that told me he was close to coming.
Panic and desperation rose inside me even as I cried out from the pleasure.
I wasn’t there yet.
I was close but not as close as him.
It didn’t occur to me the punishment Houston intended to enact until he shoved inside me one last time with a groan as he flooded the condom.
Still breathing hard and seeing the confusion on my face, he quickly leaned down and finally kissed me. I was already wrapping my legs around his waist, eager for round two, when he abruptly ended the kiss. Houston didn’t offer a word of explanation before throwing my legs off him and rising from the bed.
I quickly sat up, holding the covers to my chest as I watched him saunter toward the bathroom while removing the condom from his dick.
He couldn’t be serious.
When he closed the bathroom door behind him, and I heard the lock turn, I realized he had no intention of finishing what he had started. After peeking at Loren and Rich, who were both still sound asleep, I slammed my back onto the bed with a frustrated growl.
I could wake them up, but I couldn’t handle being rejected three times in one morning. I may have deserved it. I may have even loved whenever they used me for their needs, but being here was having the opposite effect.
Suddenly, I was sixteen again and standing on a scaffold.
Instead of the boys whose faces and names I couldn’t remember, it was Houston, Loren, and Rich staring back at me. It was their fingers pointed my way as they forced me to bear all the blame.
My heart rejected the possibility even as the bitter aroma of olive oil assaulted me. Shame was the reason I always stopped myself from talking to them about Rosalie—my reason for joining Bound. It meant revealing everything I’d done and why I was given no choice but to leave home.
Even with five years and hundreds of miles between us, Faithful hadn’t forgotten me.
I didn’t realize Houston and I were no longer the only ones awake until the bed shifted, and the covers were snatched from my body.
There was no time to react before my panties were discarded, my legs pushed open, and a head with hair as dark as black ink fell between them. His warm tongue swiped my wet opening, soothing the soreness there and making me forget my woes. Soon, he began to attack my throbbing clit, bringing back the orgasm Houston had stolen from me as the sweet smell of berries pushed away the shame.
Winding my hips as I pushed my fingers through the gorgeous stands, I tossed my head back and sighed his name.
“Rich.”
We sat alone at the back of the quiet church.
Communion had just been given, and after receiving it, the congregation belonging to the Angels of Purity & Faith fell into reflective silence. Houston, Loren, Rich, and I went ignored but not forgotten.
There was only one sweet exception.
My sister turned in her seat once more since learning I was here and smiled brightly as if she was seeing me for the first time today.
I smiled back.
We had the same brown eyes from our father and red hair from our mother, although Rosalie’s tresses were paler and cropped at her shoulder. Our mother maintained that long hair was the mark of a wanton woman. I made sure when I left home to trim mine less often, and now my hair stretched toward the end of my spine.
Rosalie’s excited gaze shifted to the rock gods fidgeting in the wooden pew we shared as if they’d burst into flames any moment now.
I shared their anxiety.
I never thought I’d be here again.
After my mother made it clear last night that I wasn’t welcome in their home, I knew this would be my only chance to see Rosalie before leaving. We had a show in Seattle tomorrow night, and I didn’t want to force my boyfriends to cancel another performance just to stay where we weren’t wanted.
Amelia Fawn, catching her youngest daughter distracted, voiced her disapproval in a quiet tone, making Rosalie pout as she turned and faced the front. I swallowed the bitterness as my gaze shifted to the boy sitting next to her and his parents sitting on his other side while our parents flanked Rosalie’s right, keeping them together.
I would never forgive my parents for forcing a life on my sister that she didn’t want, and my parents would never forgive me for derailing the one she did.
“Go in peace,” Father Moore dismissed moments later, “glorifying the Lord by your life.”
I nudged Loren next to me, who’d fallen asleep, and he awoke with a loud snort that drew unwanted attention our way. I pushed air through my nose when I was recognized immediately. Now that Mass was over and they were done pretending to be God’s innocent children, the whispering and the stares began.
“What the hell is everyone staring at?” Loren griped.
It never took any of them long to notice much, which never seemed to work in my favor. I was still hoping to get out of this without having to come clean about my past. They knew I wasn’t innocent when they met me, but they had no idea just how much I had sinned.
“You’re not supposed to curse in a church, Lo,” Rich scolded.
Loren paid him no mind as he continued to look around. I stood up, smoothing down the brown, long-sleeved midi dress I carefully chose for the occasion, so he did too. Once the four of us were standing in the aisle, I waited near the narthex.
No way was I going near Father Moore or the chancel.
Standing here, I could almost feel the smear of anointin
g oil on my forehead while the pungent smell of olives never left me. Father Moore had used it to cure my “sickness” as I stood before distraught parents and the sons they’d brought with them for absolution.
My only regret had been not having the wisdom to give my body to a boy who deserved me, someone who would have stood by me as a friend or even just a hand to hold.
None of the nine who’d been there that night did.
As I waited for my parents and sister to reach us, I fought to push away the memories before my knees could collapse. I almost gave up and let the shame take hold when a large hand slipped into mine, tangling our fingers together.
I looked up and into the green gaze of Houston Morrow and knew he’d noticed the stares too.
Shrugging at the question in his eyes, I offered him a wry smile that wasn’t entirely a façade. I was used to being the outcast. I’d lived that way for two years until I was able to escape when I turned eighteen.
And I never would have looked back if it hadn’t been for my baby sister.
She’d been too young at the time to understand what was happening to me, but it didn’t change that she never abandoned me.
The last of Father Moore’s flock who weren’t intending to stay now that Mass was over and continue their prayers finally passed us.
I knew the moment Houston spotted my family because his hand tightened around mine ever so slightly.
Jericho was next to recognize my sister, and I could hear his soft swear even after just moments ago berating Loren for doing the same.
The bassist was last to notice them. His gaze skirted over my mother and father dismissively before landing on my sister as she approached with a very swollen belly and a diamond ring adorning her left hand.
She was only thirteen.
Braxton’s sister looked barely old enough to know long division. How the hell could this kid be pregnant and married already? My gaze moved around the church, stuck playing duck, duck, goose, because I didn’t know where else to put it.
This was so fucking fucked.
Braxton should have warned us. I’d get in her ass later, but right now…
Rosalie’s cheery voice, despite the palpable tension around her, brought my attention right back to her. “Hi, I’m Braxton’s sister, Rosalie,” she introduced. She never lost that sweet smile on her face despite my feeling and probably looking like I needed a drink.
“Loren.” I forced a smile as I held out my hand, which she eagerly shook as she jumped up and down. She didn’t appear to be someone who’d spent the night in the hospital, though I still didn’t know the reason why.
“I can’t believe it’s really you! Braxton talks about you all the time, except she mostly calls you names I can’t repeat, or I’ll be grounded until I’m thirty.”
Jesus.
I didn’t know how much more I could take of this shit. I couldn’t believe I’d ever mistaken Braxton for innocent when her sister really took the cake. Thankfully, she moved on to Houston, who was better at hiding his chaotic thoughts.
Rosalie talked his ear off about her going into labor early—the reason for her short hospital stay and our visit—and was too excited to notice his short responses. Meanwhile, I studied Braxton’s parents, who had pulled her aside. Braxton was the spitting image of her mother, a stone-cold fox even with her mouth’s rigid set and the added years. I knew I had the coldness right, at least as I witnessed the way Mrs. Fawn regarded her own daughter.
I recognized that look a mile away.
It was the same disdain my father had shown me many times, and my mother was too weak to tell him any different.
When it looked like they started to argue, I made up my mind to come to Braxton’s rescue when she caught my gaze at that exact moment and subtly shook her head.
Blowing out air, I forced myself to stay put as I shifted my attention to the trio hovering near Rosalie. I dismissed the older couple, and I narrowed my eyes on the pimple-faced shit standing next to them. I knew he was the one responsible for knocking up baby sis. His blond hair covered his eyes as he stood there slouched in black slacks and a tie like he was bored out of his mind and uninterested in anything—including his new wife.
When he noticed me staring, he hesitated for only a moment or two before inching away from his parents.
“I’m Pete,” he said excitedly as if I gave a shit. “I’m a huge fan, man.”
As I pulled a stick of gum from my pocket, unwrapped it, and slipped the stick between my lips, I did some soul searching and reminded myself that he was just a kid too. I seriously doubted the marriage and baby carriage were his doing any more than Rosalie’s.
I knew what had been his bright idea, though.
“Not of wrapping up, apparently.”
Stupid shit frowned before realizing what I meant. He looked a little older than Rosalie, maybe a year or two, so I knew who was the predator and who had been the prey.
It was always the same shit, just a different generation.
“Oh. Yeah,” he said, his gaze turning shifty as he chuckled nervously. “It’s cool though because Rosalie and I…um…oh, we’re in love. Hey, do you think I could get an autograph?”
I kept my expression blank as I stared at him. I couldn’t believe Braxton’s parents allowed a precious thing like Rosalie to marry someone who sounded like he ate paint chips for an afterschool snack.
I turned to Rich, who’d been watching and listening the entire time. Rosalie was still talking Houston’s ear off, so she hadn’t gotten to him yet. Now that she wasn’t fangirling anymore, it sounded like she was ripping him a new one for being mean to her big sister. I laughed to myself at the fire in her already before getting pissed all over again.
What a waste.
“I’ll be outside,” I told Jericho, ignoring Peter the Skeeter’s request for an autograph. One of the others could hook him up.
I was outside for maybe ten minutes before Braxton found me. Houston and Rich were right behind her, and the three of us watched her stare off in the distance at nothing in particular before turning to us. “Can we go now?”
I was nodding before I could even form words. “Hell yeah.”
We started for the rental before the sound of Rosalie’s voice stopped Braxton in her tracks. I almost groaned out loud when she turned around. I needed to get her the hell out of here and sooner rather than later. If I could get away with it, I’d take baby sis with me too.
Rosalie was timid now as she slowly approached with a blush staining her cheeks when she noticed she had more than just her sister’s attention. Brushing her hair behind her ear, she stared at the ground while she spoke, and I almost snapped at her to pick her damn head up. Braxton would have castrated me, even if she did agree because it wasn’t my place and never would be.
Leaning back against the rental, I kept my mouth shut by blowing bubbles with my gum as Houston and Rich stood next to me.
“I know you’re mad at me, Brax, but I really wish you wouldn’t be,” Rosalie pleaded. “I’m okay. I promise.”
“And that’s the problem, Rosalie. You shouldn’t be okay. This is not what you told me you wanted.”
Rosalie finally looked up from the ground only to burst into hysterical tears when her gaze met her sister’s. They poured down her face relentlessly as she sobbed and attempted to talk through them. My heart ached for her, knowing she was being pulled in two directions and much too fragile to endure the strain.
“I know, but I was scared,” she wailed. “They were going to hate me forever, but I knew you never would, so I just did what they wanted, but I was wrong because now you do hate me, and I wish I could take it back, but I can’t.”
It took me several seconds longer than Braxton to decode and decipher Rosalie’s ramble. By the time I did, Braxton had her arms around her sister’s body as she held and attempted to soothe her.
“You were absolutely right,” Braxton told her sister. “I could never and will never hate you. I’m disap
pointed, and I feel responsible, but that’s my burden to bear, not yours. Take it off your shoulders because it doesn’t belong there. I told you to make the decision that was best for you, and that’s what you did. You didn’t make the one you wanted, but you made the one you thought you could live with. I get it.” Braxton took Rosalie’s drenched face in her hands and lifted her head from her chest to make their eyes meet. “And know this…no matter what, no matter when, every time you look in your corner, I’ll be right there, babe. Gloves up.”
Rosalie giggled, her eyes even bigger than Braxton’s, as her big sister attacked her sweet face with kisses. Our girl seemed reluctant to let go of her sister when she finally did pull away. Each step backward seemed weighed down as their hands held until the very last.
Their parents stood several feet away, watching their daughters closely but not intervening. I really didn’t know what to make of them. Obviously, they were devout, but that didn’t necessarily make them cruel. I guess I had no choice but to wait to hear the full story before forming an opinion, and I wouldn’t need both sides since I only gave a fuck about Braxton’s. There were still pieces of her missing, and I was eager to complete the puzzle.
“Braxton!” Rosalie called out again once the four of us were in our rental.
Rich was in the driver’s seat, ready to take us to the airport since our bags were already in the car. It was a good thing, too, since Houston decided to break the clerk’s nose before we left this morning. No one bothered asking him why, and he didn’t enlighten us.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you want to know if you’re having a niece or nephew?”
Braxton simply smiled when words failed her. There was a strain to it that she fought like hell to hide from her sister. She didn’t want to cause her any more anguish, and it only made me love her even more.
Fuck.
I never even heard the gender baby sis shouted out.