One Family

by Smyth, R. A

  “Where are you two going?”

  Aiden steps out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, giving me yet another fucking example of why I need to get away from this place for a day.

  I don’t know where the five of us are heading, but wherever it is, it better be the fuck away from this warehouse, when we’re done with Kirk. Barrett and I built this place for the two of us, and before Sophie entered our lives, it was more than big enough. Now, though, it’s a fucking line for the bathroom every morning and I’m seeing naked male chests way too fucking often. Wherever we go next has to come with its own private bathrooms. The only person I want to see naked on a daily basis is Sophie.

  “Preston needs to get something from his house, so I’m going to go with him,” Sophie responds casually, either not noticing or ignoring the hardening of Aiden’s jaw with every word that comes out of her mouth.

  Yeah, he’s not going to be okay with her leaving here.

  “Is that right?” He glares at me, like this is somehow all my fault, but I wasn’t about to tell her no. Sophie obviously wants to get out of here for a bit, and when you tell that girl she can’t do something, she sets her mind on fucking doing it.

  It’s hot as hell, watching her get all worked up and angry, spitting fire—usually at Aiden since he’s the one that tries the hardest to stop her from doing shit. I get where he’s coming from, he’s only trying to keep her safe, and sometimes I’m totally on his side, but I’ll keep her safe today. We’re only going to my dad’s place. Nothing will happen to her there.

  “I’ll be fine,” Sophie sighs, rolling her eyes at me, out of sight of Aiden. “I have my gun,” she assures him, lifting her purse off the counter and giving it a slight shake, “and a knife.” She lifts her knee, tapping the side of her boot, where she’s taken to keeping her knife.

  Damn, there’s something so fucking sexy knowing she’s armed and ready to destroy anyone who tries to mess with her. I subtly shift so Sophie can’t see me re-adjust my junk. I swear I’m always hard these days around her.

  Now, knowing Sophie is coming with me, my day is suddenly looking more promising, and I fully intend to take full advantage of our time alone together.

  I knew once I got a taste of her, I’d never get enough. I told her as much, but she’s so much more enticing than I could ever have imagined. She consumes me.

  “Come on man, she needs a change of scenery for a bit,” I say, giving him my own ‘be fucking reasonable,’ look. “Nothing will happen to her.”

  The shithead continues to glare at me for another long moment before finally relenting. He makes it clear that he’s not fucking happy about it, though.

  “Fine, but check in regularly. You better keep her fucking safe,” he demands, pointing his finger at me.

  What the fuck does he think I’m going to do?

  Not even bothering to dignify his demand with a response, I ignore him, focusing on Sophie. “You ready?”

  She nods, blowing Aiden a kiss before coming over to me, excitement brimming in her eyes at the thought of getting a day out of the warehouse. It’s sad that simply going to my house brings that level of excitement. It’s something that should be reserved for day trips to the beach or Disneyland. When all of this shit is over, I’m going to give her something real to smile about.

  ________

  “Make yourself at home,” I tell her, gesturing to the living room on the right as we step into the foyer. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Nodding her head, Sophie wanders into the living room I pointed out to her. I stand and watch her for a minute as she wanders around the room, looking at the photographs on the mantle. There isn’t much in the way of personal items around the house. What few family photos are on display are ones my mom put up before she died.

  She stops, looking at one photo in particular. I can’t tell from here which one it is, but most of them are of me as a young kid, either mucking around by myself or playing with Barrett. Only a couple have my mom in them with me, and my father isn’t in any of them—thank fuck.

  Tearing my gaze away from her, I head towards my father’s office. There’s no way my father would have kept incriminating evidence in his home office, especially since he was never here. But something the police mentioned the other day made me think. So, here I am.

  Stepping into my father’s office, his presence immediately surrounds me. Knowing he’s dead isn’t enough to sate the skitter of fear as it runs up my spine. I’ve so many horrible memories associated with this room. The number of punishments I received, standing right here. The number of times I heard my mom being yelled at or thrown about this very room. It could be completely redecorated, and I’d still get that chill in my bones.

  Moving to his desk, I begin pulling open drawers, rifling through pages and folders. The police asked me if we owned any other property. At the time I rambled off the few other houses my father owns, plus his apartment in San Francisco. The police won’t find anything at any of those addresses, but it got me wondering about The Citadel and whose name the property is registered under. If my father was running the show before Kirk came to town, then it would make sense that it could link back to him. But my dad’s not stupid enough to put the place in his own name, however, he might just be arrogant enough to put it in my mom’s.

  Like I said, it’s a long shot, but if he did, then it would make all of this so much easier. With my father now missing, proof that The Citadel is linked to him would be enough to get the cops to investigate the place. When they no doubt come across the girls and uncover what is going on in there, it would start a full on investigation and people would finally see who my father really was.

  As expected, I come up empty-handed in my search of his office. Not a single document looks like it’s of relevance. While I’m not surprised, I’m annoyed at the lack of evidence. We’re getting nowhere with Kirk and The Citadel and we’re all getting sick of being cooped up in the warehouse and being on alert every time we venture into town. Kirk’s men are still crawling all over the place and he’s showing no sign of letting up until he finds Sophie, Aiden and Ty. We’ve known for a while we may need to strike first, but it’s just too dangerous without a backup plan.

  I’m on my way back to where I left Sophie when I falter, the playing of the piano ringing out through the house, halting me in my steps. It’s just the random pressing of keys. There’s no tune or finesse to it. It’s obvious whoever is playing doesn’t know what they’re doing. It’s not the music itself that brings me to a stop, though. It’s the sound. I can’t remember the last time I heard the eloquent, tinkling and bright notes echoing around this cold mansion.

  Stumbling back into action, I round the corner into the living room, finding Sophie sitting on the piano stool. She looks up as I enter, her fingers freezing over the keys, as though I’ve caught her doing something she shouldn’t.

  I’m honestly not sure what to make of the sight in front of me. The last person to sit on that bench was my mother. I haven’t sat there or played that piano since the day I found her body.

  Yet, despite my indecision, I find myself moving towards Sophie and the piano, sitting down beside her, watching her watch me, both of us unsure how to react to the other.

  “Play something for me?” She finally asks, her voice quiet and soft, tentative.

  Placing my hands reverently over the keys, I instinctually start playing my mom’s favorite song. I haven’t played it in years, but the notes come to me like it was yesterday.

  The tune is a soft melody, its notes delicate and light. Beginning sweet and slow, the song becomes stronger as it progresses, building in intensity. I never understood why my mom was so drawn to this song, but, sitting here—the notes enveloping me like a warm blanket—with the woman who owns my very heart and soul beside me, it becomes clear.

  This song represents the epitome of all-consuming adoration. It’s brimming with every emotion that comes with loving someone, perfectl
y expressing every feeling I have for this woman with each musical lilt.

  You have the slow build-up, the flirty back and forth—in our case with a heavy undercurrent of hate and anger—leading into the intoxicating chemistry that you can no longer ignore. It culminates in that moment, when the two of you crash together, when everything else falls away and nothing exists but her body pressed up against yours. The song slows to a leisurely pace, the kind that you can picture as the soundtrack to the rest of your life.

  I look at Sophie as I play the last few notes, seeing every emotion I’m feeling written across her face. I can picture our future together, five, ten years from now. There’re three other annoying fuckers there with us, but that’s what makes it perfect.

  This song might encompass my love for Sophie, but it also speaks to the brotherly love I have for Barrett, that I could one day have with Aiden and Ty. It’s the song of our future, our family.

  As the last notes fade, the two of us take comfort in the companionable silence that descends. The enormity of the moment sitting heavy between us. Without even realizing it, I’ve laid myself bare for Sophie to see, exposed every vulnerability I have.

  I watch anxiously as Sophie leans in. There’s a sheen of tears in her eyes as she reaches her hand out to cup my cheek. Her eyes drop to my mouth seconds before her soft, plump lips press against my own in a searing kiss choked with emotion. Every ounce of our love, our need for each other, is imparted with that simple touch.

  “I love you,” she breathes against my lips. She doesn’t give me a chance to respond—not that she needs to hear in words what she already knows—as her lips touch mine again, hungrier than before.

  I kiss her back fervently, devouring her lips with the same urgency as she’s attacking me with. I reach out and drag her into my lap, so she's straddling me, my erection straining painfully against the zipper of my chinos, as her heat grinds against me.

  Fuck, I’ve never been so turned on in my life as I am when I’m with her. The chemistry between us is off the charts. It has been since the first day I met her. Back then it was fueled by hatred and mistrust, but there was no denying my attraction to her, even then. The second she walked into that classroom, I knew she had the power to destroy me.

  I thought she was going to prevent me from getting out from under my father’s thumb, but instead she destroyed me in the best way possible. She’s helped me break through the barrier I kept around me, has helped me get a handle on my anger and learn to trust in others. It’s thanks to her that I want to do more than just survive in this world. I want to fucking live in it. With her.

  Her warm hands sneak up under my top and I reach back behind my head, grabbing the collar and pulling the t-shirt off over my head. Our lips part as I remove it, and she whips off her own shirt, so she’s straddling me in jeans and a lacy black bra.

  Fuck, my dick is about to burst out of my pants, so desperate to get to her. I reach around, grabbing an ass cheek in each of my palms, squeezing them before I stand up, bringing her with me and perching her pert ass on the edge of the piano.

  I tear my lips away from hers, kissing and biting at her neck until I reach her collarbone. Licking my way along it, I descend to her breast, using my teeth to pull the cup down, exposing her peaked nipple. I suck it into my mouth causing her to groan as she arches into me, her hands coming up to hold my head hostage. She tastes fucking delicious, and she’s so fucking responsive to my touch. Her moans go straight to my dick, somehow making it even larger.

  All of my blood must be enroute to my dick at this point.

  Releasing her nipple, I continue my journey south, until I reach the top of her jeans. Running my fingers across her taut skin, I unbutton her pants, relishing in the peek I get of her black panties, as I slip my fingers under the lace straps and she lifts her hips, enabling me to pull them down her legs, exposing her to me.

  Using my hand on her stomach to push her down until she’s lying flat on top of the piano, I wedge my shoulders between her legs, spreading her until I have an unobstructed view of her dripping wet pussy.

  Leaning in, I press my thumb against her clit, loving the gasp that leaves her mouth at that simple touch. Slowly, I move my fingers down through her pussy lips, gathering her juices, before sliding two fingers into her hot center.

  I can feel her clenching around me, her hips involuntarily lifting as she chases her release, fucking my fingers.

  I pump my fingers in and out of her, watching as she writhes and moans under my touch. She’s so fucking hot when she’s uninhibited like this, with her walls down, letting me see a side of her she doesn’t show anyone else.

  Dipping my head, I lick her clit, sucking it into my mouth as I pick the speed with my fingers. She meets every thrust of my fingers with a jerk of her hips, her low moans turning into cries as she gets closer to the edge.

  Her hands come to fist my hair, pulling on it in the most pleasurably painful way as she grinds against my face, using me to get herself off. It’s so fucking hot, I’m about to nut in my jeans like a fucking twelve-year-old.

  I feel it when her orgasm hits her. Her walls squeeze around my fingers, sucking them deeper into her and refusing to let go, as her whole body tenses and she cries out my name. It’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how, but she has the most amazing orgasm face I’ve ever seen. Her chest and cheeks flush a deep red and her mouth drops open in an ‘o’ shape, all the worry and stress leaving her face, for just a moment, as insatiable pleasure rockets through her.

  As soon as the peak of her orgasm passes, she sits up, reaching out for me, her lips colliding with mine once again, as her hands fumble with my belt, unbuckling it and pulling down the zipper.

  I once again grab her ass, lifting her off the piano, spinning around and setting her on the bench as she shoves her hand down my boxers, wrapping her tiny hand around my wide girth and running it up and down, the movement causing me to jerk up into her hand.

  Shoving my boxers down enough so my cock is free, I hover over her, replacing her hand with mine, as I give it a few quick pumps before lining up at her entrance and slamming it home. Her heat envelopes me, wrapping around me and sucking me in deeper until I’m fully seated inside her, both of us groaning at the pleasurable feeling.

  Unable to hold myself back, I thrust shallowly within her, already feeling that euphoric tingle in my balls.

  She clamps her legs around me, encouraging me to move faster, as her hand clenches around my top, drawing me down to her until she can lean up and kiss me.

  Not one to disappoint, I do as the lady silently demands, picking up my speed, my hands gripping her hips in order to stop her sliding off the bench.

  “Oh, Preston,” she moans, her voice laced with lust and need, as I grunt above her, feeling her tighten around me.

  “Come, Princess,” I tell her, as tingles race up my spine and I feel my balls tighten. Because she’s so fucking in tune with me, she crashes over the edge at my demand, her pussy holding my dick like a vice as she comes all over me. That final pressure is enough to push me over the edge and I grunt out her name as my cum spurts out of me, coating her channel, marking her as mine.

  Neither of us move for a moment as I remain hovering over her, both of us panting heavily with the exertion of our afternoon delight. Resting my head against hers, my eyes close.

  “I love you too.” My lips meet hers in a fierce kiss, showing her the honesty of my words.

  After a few minutes, I reluctantly pull back. I’d happily spend all day here, fucking her senseless, but I heard her phone buzzing in her purse and I don’t even need to look at the screen to know it’s Aiden wanting an update. He’ll never leave me alone with her again if she doesn’t respond ASAP.

  “You’d better answer that,” I say, lifting off her, grabbing her hand and hauling her upright.

  We both tidy ourselves up and Sophie fires off a text to satisfy Aiden.

  “You hungry?”

 
; “Starved.” Her lips turn up in a sly grin and I bark out a laugh, grabbing her hand and directing her towards the kitchen in search of some sustenance. After all, the day is still young. I’ve plenty more planned for us before we have to head back to the warehouse.

  Chapter 15

  After wolfing down the sandwiches Preston made for lunch, he drags me through the house until we enter a dark basement. Flicking the switch, my eyes fall on a large room filled with gym equipment.

  “You came here to work out?” I ask, taking in the various machines. I’ve no idea what most of them do, or why he needed to use his home gym today. Preston insists on staying late most afternoons so he can use the gym at the school. It’s actually been great for me, as I can go to the library and get some studying done while he works out all of his aggression.

  “No, but I figured while we were here, I’d teach you a few moves.”

  I turn around to look at him, scrunching my nose up. Gym stuff, or exercise in general, isn’t really my thing. I’m on the track team at school because I have to be, but beyond that, the only form of exercise I’m interested in is when I’m exploring the deep Californian forest, and that’s only because it doesn’t feel like exercise. I’m always too distracted taking in the scenery to notice the sweat dripping down my back and the ache in my thighs.

  Ignoring my look, Preston strides over to some mats laid out beside a large boxing ring in the middle of the room, picking up some pads and slipping them on.

  Turning back to look at me, noticing I haven’t followed him across the room, he gives me a ‘what are you waiting for’ look.

  “Well? Come and show me what Aiden taught you.”

  Sighing, I head across the room towards him. Stopping in front of him, he raises his hands, silently encouraging me to punch them. Trying to remember what Aiden taught me, I clench my fist, curling the tips of my fingers into my palm, making sure to keep my thumb untucked.