She wanted him, badly. More intensely than she had in a long time.
She peered up at his face, his expression was thoughtful now, softening his features. So handsome. Byron had always been so fucking handsome.
This was the man she’d started falling for, the kind one hidden under the money. The loving one, hidden under the all-consuming anger.
“I’ll leave Geneva,” Byron suddenly turned his face and whispered, his warm breath pulsing against her cheek. His words sounded sincere, with a seed of urgency that rang true. She could not deny him, even if this was a new level of lie, a new façade to keep her hooked by his love.
He was making Japan a reality.
He was going to leave his wife.
Nina knew how most affairs like theirs ended—in a trail of ruin. Bitter and regretful. All passion washed away. But they were different. They’d moved beyond the initial thrill of sex and secrecy.
“Leave her, and come to Japan with me,” Nina urged, reaching down between their bodies and undoing the button of his pants before slowly unzipping them. She snaked her hand into the opening, fingers sliding into the boxer briefs until they could grip around his girth and pull him out. He was hot, ready, his tip already damp with precum.
Byron moved into action now, eager hands pulling Nina’s lace panties to the side to reveal her pussy, fresh shaven and glistening with her need. He gripped her waist with one hand, keeping the lace shoved away from her opening with the other.
They never took chances. Always using multiple contraceptives. But this time they didn’t want to stop. They didn’t want the delay of suiting up. Each seemed to want the same thing—to fuck with abandon for once. To give each other every ounce of self that they could. It was a commitment, unspoken, yet all too real.
Nina shifted, holding Byron’s shoulders and rising on tiptoes to position herself. When she lowered back down, his large dick pressed firmly against her wet seam. She paused, reveling in the sensation. Wanting to tease him, only a little. One small slip, and they’d be sinking into the oblivion of flesh against flesh. She wanted the beginning to last, those pulses of anticipation that sent her into a wet frenzy. But Byron was desperate to be inside of her. Not wanting to waste a second of their time together, he let go of the lace panties so that he could grip her waist with both hands, controlling her movements. He pushed her down until his dick parted her lips and he entered her, inch by warm inch.
The lace panties were a forgotten, shoved aside thing now. No match for the movement of his cock. It was not unlike his marriage. Forgotten. Shoved aside. He was ready for some goddamn change. Some real freedom.
The duo groaned with pleasure, his cock stretching her wide and sending waves of sensation flowing through her groin. He throbbed inside of her and he whispered her name, ducking his head down to bite gently at her breasts before sucking one of her beautiful tits into his mouth, flicking his tongue across the nipple as she gyrated against him, hips rocking and wetness soaking down against the leather chair.
Byron moved to the other nipple, biting down and then sucking like his life depended on it. Nina gripped his hair roughly, pushing his face nearer to her body. He came away breathless, gaze wild and searching. Then he lifted her again slowly, letting her ride up his dick until the tip threatened to fall away from her body. But he didn’t let it, shoving her back down roughly right at the last possible moment.
He wanted to fuck Nina until they were both consumed.
It had never been this way with Geneva. Never.
He lifted Nina up again and yanked her back down hard, their bodies slamming together with a wet and violent slap that made Nina yell his name. She gripped the arms of the chair and used that for leverage, helping Byron move her up and down, in and out. Over and over and over again. His dick felt like heaven. Her pussy was food of the gods.
“God, I want you forever, Byron. I want to fuck you like this forever,” Nina moaned, as she released the chair and leaned back against the desk behind her. She touched herself, fingers dipping between her lips and stroking the top of his dick as he kept lifting and lowering her. Her index and middle found her clit, and the first stroke sent her into orgasm. She screamed as she kept rubbing circle motions over herself, milking the sensation while Byron kept fucking her. A fresh wave assaulted her, vibrations rocketing through her entire body from toes to scalp. Her legs shook, thighs tensing around the low-set arms of the chair as Byron kept taking his pleasure from her.
She couldn’t stop touching herself, couldn’t stop rubbing and waiting for wave after wave of intense orgasm. When she finally felt like she couldn’t continue, like her entire body would fall apart if she attempted one more release, Byron stood, lifting them both away from the chair and desk and magically keeping his cock buried inside her body.
He moved them over to the burgundy sofa in the corner, knocking over a potted plant as he carried her, but not giving a fuck. Once there, he lifted Nina off his dick and set her down on the ground. Her legs rebelled and she nearly fell, but Byron spun her around and pushed her down to lean over the sofa arm. She gasped as he pushed back inside of her, pressing deeper and deeper until they were so close that Nina thought they’d never be separate again. That’s what she wanted now, what she wanted most. Byron leaned down, grabbing both of her arms and bringing them behind her back. He held her wrists in one hand and pulled her hair with the other. She was wearing it long lately, beautiful thick braids perfect for pulling. He gripped those with his other hand and loved it when she cried out in discomfort.
And he fucked her.
In and out. Dick plunging into pussy. The sight, and the sounds of Nina gasping in pleasure, brought him to the edge.
Until it was his turn to cum in a hot spray, body shaking and his mouth releasing a groan of pleasure so loud that he wondered if the soundproofing would do its job.
They collapsed onto the sofa moments later, hearts beating fast and breath still coming in erratic gulps.
“I’m done with it all, Nina.” Byron absentmindedly traced fingers across Nina’s thighs as he tried to calm himself. “Fuck Castleton Industries. Let my mother and son burn it to the ground for all I care.”
“And... I’ll look up a divorce lawyer for you?” Nina spoke shyly, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for this all to be a dream.
“No need. I secured one ages ago on retainer. I’m ready.”
Nina’s heart sped up further, until it was a racehorse first in line for the finish line and desperately afraid of losing its lead.
“I love you, Byron.”
“I’m thinking I love you too.” God fucking help him. Everything was falling apart.
But falling apart into place maybe...
8.
D R A K E
-Thursday, preparing to leave for the mountains-
I was forming a plan in my head. Surprise Tarryn in the mountains. Steve would keep Sasha occupied for me. I’d whisk my Square away for a romantic dinner on Saturday evening. I’d be a perfect goddamn gentleman. Maybe earn a little forgiveness...
I hadn’t been surprised when Tarryn had seen through my pathetic excuse yesterday. My father was planning to have one of his underlings courier over the documents on Monday, since he was leaving for Morocco on Friday morning. There was no reason for me to invade Tarryn’s space, inserting myself into her sphere when she’d so clearly told me to give her a wide berth.
But I couldn’t help myself.
I was weak.
As recent events made painfully apparent.
I’d just talked with Dr. Allporth again yesterday morning too. We’d gone over the details of what had happened again. We’d talked about my self worth. And the self worth of people around me. People like Tarryn. He’d said giving distance and allowing time was a good thing. If things were going to work out with Tarryn, they would. I couldn’t force the issue… And then look what I’d done. While Dr. Allporth was playing golf and enjoying his old age, I was off doing exactly what he’d
advised me not to do.
But I couldn’t help myself.
I was drawn to a leap of faith. Show her everything I was working with, and let her decide once and for all if I was worth it.
Maybe if I hadn’t caught a glimpse of her Wednesday before my exam… Maybe I would have been able to keep resisting the urge to push my way into her life again.
It was Thursday morning, and I was shoving random clothing items into a black leather duffel. Halfway through, I paused and realized that I had ten shirts, one pair of shorts, five mismatched socks, and zero boxers. I yanked everything out and collapsed onto my bed in the pool house. I rarely slept in the main house anymore. Shit was just more peaceful when there was more space between me and my father. And space between me and my mother, whenever she deigned to come home and infect us with her presence.
Thankfully, my parents seemed to agree with me. They hadn’t so much as blinked an eye when I’d moved most of my things out of the oversized home that felt so empty it hurt my insides to be there. The lack of family, lack of real fucking love. Even with every fireplace in the joint going, that house felt cold as Alaska in winter.
Okay. The mountains. Going to be cold. And I don’t want to look like shit.
I realized that I didn’t feel like wearing anything I owned. Shit I’d fucked other girls in, stuff bought for me buy the goddamn parental units. I sat up, clothes scattered beneath my body, and resigned myself to a shopping trip.
I fucking hated shopping.
*
I drove straight to one of my usual haunts, grandmother’s black Mercedes gliding across the streets soundlessly, and making me feel—all too keenly—the absence of my convertible. I’d get the goddamn car back from Dad even if it killed me. Sure, he’d bought the damn thing for my sixteenth, he paid for the damn insurance, and the gas since I charged it to my black card. Maybe rationally he had every right to strip the car away from me. But it was mine. The one fucking thing my parents had ever given me that wasn’t a complete pile of shit, tainted by their judgement and strained relationship.
Jackson on Fifth was a posh store, but not so high dollar that it failed to cater to money-filthy teens. Artfully distressed jeans were clipped to headless mannequins, ‘woke’ graphic tees draped over the shoulders and threatening to waterfall to the floor at any second. But they wouldn’t. The tenuous, haphazard window display was by design.
I pushed through the revolving door, sensor pinging my arrival.
If I were lucky, Sienna wouldn’t be working today. We’d had our fair share of trysts in the changing room, and I was doing my best to be on my best behavior. I wanted Tarryn more than I wanted a quick fuck to satisfy carnal needs.
I wasn’t lucky.
Sienna, her long auburn hair and slender back facing my direction as she raised on tiptoes to hang a jacket back on a top rack, was working today. She turned at the sound of the door ping, wide brown eyes immediately crinkling as her smile woke up. She was happy to see me; exactly the kind of girl I preferred. She could separate sex from emotions, and she knew multiple orgasms in a back room didn’t equal a relationship.
“Drake. It’s been forever.” She swayed towards me, shoulders and hips wide, but balanced out by a tight waist. Curves for days.
“You know me. I’m not a shopper.”
“Oh, I know. Though, we used to find other ways to spend your time when you came here looking for clothes.” She lifted her hands and made air quotes, a laugh in her voice at the memories. They were good ones. Sweaty. Scent of vanilla in the air from store candles. Pussy tasting like coconut cream. And she swallowed. Never complained, never gagged.
My dick throbbed.
Down boy. I chided. We’re actually here for clothes this time.
And I had to think about Tarryn. I needed to use my actual brain, the one between my ears, rather than the one between my fucking legs. Because that brain? That brain would fuck Sienna all damn day, and into the night, until she couldn’t walk correctly.
“So,” Sienna moved close enough to hook a finger in my jeans, pulling me forward so that our bodies almost pressed together.
My dick throbbed again, growing hard and hungry for her.
I raised my hands to grip her by the shoulders and gently moved her away. Her finger stayed tucked in my pants, trying to reach deeper. “I hate to say it, but I’m here to actually shop today. I need new... everything.”
“Really?” Sienna eyed me, her expression making it obvious that she didn’t believe me, but she pulled her finger out of my waistband anyways.
“Really.”
“But we can still have a little fun. The store closes for lunch in half an hour... And it’s been a while.”
I closed my eyes, taking a deep steadying breath.
Sienna was a good fuck. One of my favorites.
“Just the clothes,” I repeated.
Disappointed, Sienna shrugged. “Suit yourself. But just so you know, I’ve just been waxed and it’s a whole new world down there.”
I groaned, eyes closing for a half a second. When I opened them, she was running a hand down her breasts suggestively. Monogamy is a bitch. “The clothes, Sienna. Load me up.”
We spent the next hour putting together an entire new wardrobe. Enough winter things to keep me warm in the Mountains. Shit I looked good in. Stuff that had never been touched by other girls.
Maybe it was symbolic.
Maybe it was meaningless.
Maybe I should hate paying for it with the credit card my dad paid for, and for some inexplicable reason hadn’t frozen yet.
But it felt good to walk out of that store with six bags and the knowledge that I’d controlled myself with Sienna. Sure, the bar was still set really low—center of the goddamn earth low—but it was progress.
And proof that I could be something other than a complete dirt bag.
I drove home, parking and dragging my spoils into the pool house to pack my bag again, this time properly. My phone buzzed as I was tossing my toiletries into the duffel.
Steve: Yo. You said you’re driving right? My car needs the yearly inspection, and my parents are throwing a fucking fit.
Me: Yeah. I said I was.
Steve: Cool, wanted to make sure. You didn’t tell anyone we were heading to the mountains, right?
Me: No. Why?
Steve: Sasha’s acting suspicious.
Me: Probably because you’re shit at keeping secrets.
Steve: Shut up.
Me: See you in a few hours.
*
I pulled up in front of Steve’s place only to find another car parked in his driveway. Seconds later, my eyes found that his front door was open, and Sasha was standing on his front steps pointing her finger angrily at Steve.
I shut the car off and exited, slamming the door behind me and leaving the keys in the cup holder. People might cheat on their spouses, and lie on their taxes, but for the most part folks didn’t carjack in River Valley. I mean... there was my little joyride at fifteen, but that was the exception and not the rule. Small towns tended to keep their wrong doings quieter than a public car chase.
As I approached, Steve looked at me with wild eyes that begged for help.
“I’m telling you, Sash. Me and Drake are just going on a harmless trip to Mexico. No girls. No booze. Just a little sun and chill.” He held his hands up, taking a step back from his angry girlfriend.
“You just asked me to be exclusive, Steve. And now you’re running off with your best mate in malice, Drake fucking Castleton. You don’t think he’s going to lead you into trouble? A few strippers lead to a couple prostitutes and, wham, bam, thank you ma’am, next thing you know you’re dick deep in a hooker with more STDs than a sex clinic.” I’d seen Sasha mad, the girl spilled vitriol from her lips like a criminal lawyer, but this was different. “I’m going to fucking break up with you. I’m not one of Drake’s moron fucks who likes to be trampled on.”
The girl was genuinely hung up on Steve. Who w
as an idiot, but a harmless idiot for the most part.
“Sasha, come on. You gotta believe me. I’m not gonna fuck a hooker!”
“Sure, that’s what they all say.” She crossed her arms now, sticking out a hip and trying to, unsuccessfully, look fierce.
“He’s telling the truth, femi-nazi,” I drawled, knowing my words would further piss her off. Though she did her best to ignore me at first, I saw the way her posture tensed, ready to pounce. Steve didn’t ignore me. The poor guy looked at me like I’d just dropped acid and hung him over the fire as a sacrifice for a new supply. I could have stopped talking, could have left well enough alone. But that’s never fun. “And you should be careful. Isn’t your so-called best friend one of my moron fucks?”
Steve covered his face with one hand, just as Sasha gasped and whirled around to look daggers in my direction. Yep. Tiger ready to pounce.
“Come on, man. You were supposed to help, not be the world’s biggest dick.” Steve moaned.
Oh, I’d made thing worse. No denying. The cat in front of me had claws out and fangs bared.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Bad Influence himself. Mexico, huh? Are you sure you don’t want to terminate your trip in Vegas? Lose a shitload of money, marry a drunk college chick and fuck a cocktail waitress right after? I mean, we all know that you’re absolute shit at commitment. So, listen, why don’t you take your money and go. Steve can hang out here and play scrabble with his parents.”
I quirked an eyebrow, knowing my smile was devil-may-care. “Damn, Steve-o. Sure this is the horse you want to saddle your wagon to? She’s already nixing nights off with the boys. Can you imagine five years down the road? You’ll have a police cuff around your ankle, and you’ll be a house prisoner with her as warden.”
“Shut the fuck up, Drake,” Steve pleaded. “Just get back in your car and I’ll be there in a sec.”
“I think the only way you’re going to make it to my car is if I run interference, Bruh.” I winked, not sure what was possessing me to keep stoking the fire and make shit worse for my friend.
Balls: A Bully Romance (The King of Castleton High Book 4) Page 7