“You so did, didn’t you?” she stage-whispered. “Holy shit, woman!”
I grinned. I couldn’t help it.
“That good, huh?” Laughing, she slapped the table. “Oh my Lord, Priscilla!”
Putting down my cup, I grabbed her hand and held it. “Seriously. Like I said, I’m okay, hon. Truly. I’m going to be fine.”
She let out a deep breath and smiled. “Hell, I think so, too.”
We both burst out laughing.
Once I caught my breath again, I told her everything. She was especially pleased to hear about a certain sex toy that was the catalyst.
Grinning like a loon, she said, “See, I told you it was top of the line!”
Chapter Seven
Trenton
“This is everything, I assume?” I asked Barringer, opening the thick packet and spreading some of its contents out on my desk.
“That’s everything, receipts included,” he answered.
The photos were damning, and I was dreading looking at the receipts. I skimmed the silky photo paper, shifting them a bit, then eyed the folder I assumed contained the receipts and Barringer’s notes. I didn’t need to look at those now, however. Retired cop Mike Barringer, now private investigator, was notoriously meticulous.
I reached down and twisted the drawer key into its lock and took out the fat envelope of cash. “Here’s the rest of your fee. You did well.”
The older man took the money and tucked it into his jacket. I watched it disappear into some kind of special pocket. He scratched his scruffy, salt-and-pepper beard and nodded.
“Anything else you need?” he asked, gesturing to the photos on my desk.
“That will be all. Thank you for such good work, as usual, Mike.” We both stood and shook hands. I walked him out of my office and to the foyer.
As soon as he left, I shut the front door and leaned against it, shutting my eyes, suddenly tired. “Dylan, Dylan. What a mess you’ve made. But no more,” I said aloud.
Someone cleared their throat, and I opened my eyes, seeing Phyllis standing there. “About time you said that, boy.”
I laughed. “I’m no boy anymore, Phyllis. Not by a long shot.”
Her twinkling eyes were still the same vibrant shade of amber as they were when I was a kid and she barely a woman of nineteen.
“As long as you keep me around, Trenton, I’ll always see you as a boy. Come, let’s have some tea, hmm?”
I smiled and pulled away from the door. Just like I’d done for years, I followed her into the kitchen. She put the kettle on and got the cups. I got the tea. As we waited for the water to boil, we sat at the table, the one only she and I used these days.
She took my hand and squeezed it. “What’s going on with you, Trenton? And tell me the truth. It’s Dylan’s wife, isn’t it?”
“What do you think of her? Do you like her?” I deflected.
She tsked at my question. “You know good and well that I do. That child is a beautiful soul. Kind, sweet. She doesn’t belong here, she’ll wither away married to Dylan, I’m afraid.”
As usual, Phyllis’ observations were always astute. Too bad I never came to her before Dylan asked for Priscilla’s hand.
I rubbed my face. “Dylan’s been…”
“Up to no damn good.” She patted my hand and stood. The kettle was whistling.
I added the tea bags to the cups while she poured, weighing my words and searching for what it was I really wanted her advice on.
“Trenton, look at me.” When I did, she smiled. “You need to move on, live a little. Let go of some of that control. You have four grown children, two of which are perfectly capable of taking on more of your responsibilities. You’ve lived alone for long enough, without love, still frozen in place since Rebecca’s death. Still living in this house after all these years, never a vacation. Always work, work, work.” She shook her head. “Do yourself a favor and get away for a while.”
The tea was too hot to drink, so I blew on it, considering her words.
“And bring that girl with you while you’re at it, Trenton. I think the two of you need each other.”
“Oh really?” I laughed. “You don’t think it’s a mistake? Some kind of perverted, mid-life creepy move on my part?”
“Oh please,” she said, swatting my arm. “You don’t give a damn what people think about you. Never have. You’ve always had a knack for knowing what you want. Don’t stop now, kiddo.”
I let Phyllis leave early, saying I was going to grab dinner out tonight.
As soon as Priscilla’s car pulled up, I opened the front door and watched her get out of the car. We stared at one another.
“Hi,” she said, grinning.
“Come here, you.”
She ran to me, and I pulled her inside, kicking the door shut. I took that sexy mouth of hers and kissed it, devouring her in languid nibbles and licks, pushing her up against the wall. She tasted like melon, wet and sweet. My hand found its way up her skirt, and already she had ahold of my belt buckle, deftly unbuttoning my pants, freeing my swollen cock.
Wrenching her skirt up, I found her once again without panties on. I pulled away. “You naughty little thing, you. Did your pussy miss me?”
She made a sexy sound and nodded. “So, so bad.”
“Fuck,” I grunted, hooking her legs around me. In one hard thrust I was inside her. I fucked her hard and fast, as though it were the end of the world. All that mattered was her tight cunt wrapped around my dick.
“Shit, fuck!” I pounded into her.
“Oh, Trenton…” she moaned, “you feel so good.” She bit my ear, then sucked the lobe into her mouth. I couldn’t hold back anymore, I came. Hard.
We gave each other a few minutes to recover, kissing softly while our heart rate went back to normal, then righted ourselves, adjusting our clothes.
“Let’s go get a drink in the library. We can talk in there,” I told her, holding her hand.
My God, when was the last time I had done such a thing as hold a woman’s hand?
I thought about Phyllis’ words to me in the kitchen, about letting go and moving on. A change.
I had no intention of relinquishing control of the world I’d built, starting over with a new life and passing the baton to the next generation of Loves, but in this, with this woman, this attraction, no matter where—or if—it went further, well…
I wasn’t going to let her slip out of my hands.
I was keeping her.
“I’m going to Italy,” she said.
I topped off our drinks, then sat back down beside her on the couch. “Alright. When?”
“Two weeks. I discovered today that Dylan had purchased tickets for our anniversary. Sad to see it go to waste.”
Nodding, I sipped my drink, thinking. “One year married, in three weeks, that’s right. Have you spoken to him yet?”
She leaned back and threw an arm over her face. “No. I haven’t seen him since the party. If I can ever catch him long enough to talk to him, I’m letting him know that I’m leaving.”
“I’ll give you my lawyer’s number. He’ll put you in touch with a good divorce attorney.”
She looked at me then. “I appreciate it. There’s so much to consider and I want to do everything as cleanly as possible. Dylan and I got married for the wrong reasons. Maybe someday he’ll find someone that fits him better.”
Not a mean bone in her body.
What Dylan really needed was a big spoonful of karma. But in her best interest, I had no plans on divulging any of Dylan’s transgressions to Priscilla. It would only cause her unnecessary pain. In the end, Dylan’s behavior didn’t reflect on her, had nothing to do with her whatsoever, and I was going to keep it that way.
“Oh, by the way,” she said, stretching like a cat, capturing my attention instantly. “I’ll be staying at one of the apartments Jessica’s husband owns. It’s furnished and vacant. Just temporarily until I decide what I’m going to do.”
; “Good. Meanwhile, this means I have two weeks to get things squared away before we go to Italy.” I winked at her, gleefully anticipating her reaction and what she’d say.
She raised a dainty eyebrow. “We?”
“Yes, we. You didn’t think I’d let you go to some foreign country by yourself, did you?”
Oh, the indignant expression she had on her face. Priceless!
Scoffing, she sat up. “I didn’t think you’d have any opinion on the matter, actually. Yes, I am going alone.”
I tsked, shaking my head slowly. “A young, beautiful woman. Swarming Italian stallions sniffing—”
She burst into laughter. “Italian stallions?”
“—around a sexy American—”
She rolled her eyes dramatically, cracking up. “Oh my God.”
“—trying to feed her spaghetti like that fancy dog in that Disney—”
“I’m dying…” Laughing, she jumped on me and tried to grab my face, but I kept dodging her, my words growing louder and filled with the laughter I was working so hard at holding back.
So she resorted to tickling me.
“No fair, no fair!” My laugh joined hers, and soon we were kissing again, totally turned on, conversation halted for another time.
All of which was fine with me.
Epilogue
Priscilla
It wasn’t until later that week that I finally got a chance to speak to Dylan. Sadly, I had to go hunt him down at the one place I knew I’d find him: work.
On my lunch break, I drove downtown, took the elevator up to the tenth floor, and marched past his receptionist, straight into his office.
I was just in time, it seemed.
With his pants around his ankles, his white ass facing me, he turned his head to see who had the gall to barge into his office.
“What the hell— Priscilla?”
The woman bent over the desk froze. All I could see of her was a splash of long blonde hair and a pair of strappy heels.
I held out my hand, stopping him, even though neither Dylan nor the girl had moved. “Please, no need to stop on my account. I’m just here to make sure you hear it from me in person since you make it almost impossible to do, what with how busy you always are.”
His face was a funny shade of gray. Words seemed to form soundlessly from his lips, but nothing came out.
I smiled. “We’re done, Dylan. My lawyer will be in touch.”
Then I walked out.
I saw Trenton that night and decided not to tell him what I had seen, only that Dylan had been told. That our marriage was truly over. Dylan wasn’t worth the time spent in my thoughts, and definitely not worth the time talking about when such better things were available to discuss.
The last few weeks flew by in hasty appointments, shopping, phone calls, and dinner dates. I was a busy bee, dotting my Is and crossing my Ts.
I had never been happier.
Trenton was part of that, yes, but it was me, really, that woman who had been born a few months ago from a butterfly’s wings, the sleeping beauty who had finally woken up, only this time it was the beauty who woke herself up, one who also happened to be fucking the prince.
Italy was a blast. So much to see, to eat, to take in. We did every tour we could fit in, Trenton and I. Both of us found more than just each other on that trip; we also shed our skin, grew, and enjoyed each moment, both alone and together.
I didn’t know what the future held for us, but I knew no matter what, I was going to be okay. I was only as happy as I let myself be, and the man beside me, who saw so much more in me than anyone in my life ever had, shared in that happiness, nurturing it, watching it grow beside his own.
Life was full of surprises. I couldn’t wait to see what was next. I’m sure it was bound to be interesting—certainly telling the family that their father had fallen for his daughter-in-law would count.
Yes, I definitely had a feeling that was going to be very interesting.
The End
About Petra J Knox
Petra J Knox is a lover of cats and books, equally. She writes stories that matter to her, regardless of genre. Editor, wife, and mom, she lives in the desert of Eastern Washington, dreaming of thunderstorms and rolling, green pastures.
You can find her on Facebook here:
Facebook author page:
https://www.facebook.com/authorPetraJKnox/
Other Books by Petra J. Knox
Make Me Real: (The Dirty Heroes Collection Book 11)
https://books2read.com/u/4DyB0e
Entropy
https://books2read.com/u/38ZNlL
The Saving Setora seven-book series
Secrets
Cole Denton
Copyright © 2021 by Cole Denton
All rights reserved.
No part of this book/draft may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author.
This book may not be re-sold or given to another person or entity.
Chapter One
Angry rumbles of distant thunder had woken me up a few minutes ago. While I listened to the rain pelt my bedroom window, something repeatedly thudded on the floor below. The sound of the thunderstorm had masked the noise that came from downstairs, and I bolted up in bed when I heard a lamp topple over. As bright sheets of lightning lit up the night sky, I threw my covers back and hurried down the hall to my parents’ room. Their door was open, and the light was on, but neither of them were there.
“Griff—”
Mom?
I raced down the stairs and hurried to the only room that had a light on. I froze when my eyes settled on my parents. My father was straddling over my mom, and his bloody hands were around her neck. Streaks of blood smeared on the hardwood floor beneath my mom’s blonde hair. In my mom’s hand was the cord to her favorite lamp that used to sit on the table between their reading chairs. A short distance away, the lamp with the stained-glass shade lay toppled on the floor.
“Griff,” she gurgled.
“Griffin,” my dad called out to me in a firmer tone.
I looked at him and then quickly back to my mom. She was struggling to breathe.
“Griffin, son, I need your help,” he said as my mom’s hands tried to claw at his face.
He leaned his head back out of her reach and shook her neck violently. I quickly learned that it was her head hitting the floor that had been making the thudding noise.
“Griffin,” my dad urgently said my name and drew my attention to him. “Griffin, remember our man to man talk not that long ago?” I nodded. “Remember what I told you about women? Remember what I said about how they can’t be trusted and will cheat on you?” I nodded as I recalled our man to man talk a few weeks ago on my twelfth birthday. “Your mother has been cheating.” My mother continued to grab and claw at my dad’s hands and arms. “Not only on me, though. She’s been cheating on you. The son of a bitch she’s been seeing also has a son. She bakes with him, helps him with his homework. She was replacing both of us. She doesn’t love us anymore.”
What?
I turned to look at my mom’s pale face. Our eyes met, and I couldn’t tell if she was sorry or not.
“Griffin, I need you to show me that you’re a man and help me put an end to it. Come over here and hold her arms down.”
I didn’t feel as though I was even walking toward them, but I ended up kneeling in her blood, pressing my hands down on her wrists. Through my tears, I looked into her eyes. Weakly, she stretched her hands up and wrapped them around my wrists and forearms. It wasn’t an act of aggression, but I thought she was telling me goodbye.
My eyes shot open as the thunder continued to roll from last night’s storm, pulling me away from my hell eighteen years ago. Soft glowing green lights on my nightstand told me that it wasn’t quite five in the morning yet. Adrenaline pumped through my veins while my pulse continued to race from the abru
pt wake-up. It was too late to try to go back to sleep. I had to be in the office today, and I needed to stop by my aunt and uncle’s place on my way. We planned on riding to work this morning as Uncle Lars wanted to discuss details for this weekend’s party at his place.
The posh parties were typically a guarantee for a variety of sex, and I was looking forward to that part. Being the wealthy son of Miles Evans certainly had its perks. After my grandfather died, my father ran the company with Lars as his second in command. I was set to inherit Evans Financial and would be the CEO after Lars felt that I was ready.
I tossed back the white sheets and stretched when my feet hit the dark hardwood floors, then strolled to the window. Sliding the blackout curtains to the sides, I could see low-lying fog hovering over the lake out back. A light drizzle of rain still fell, which negated my idea of going out for a jog this morning. I liked to jog in the mornings following the nightmares because it helped me shake the memories from my conscience.
That wasn’t going to be possible today. I read the news and had multiple cups of coffee as I ate breakfast until it neared 7:00. While standing in my walk-in closet, I dressed in charcoal Italian wool pants, a black button-down shirt, and a black tie with faint navy diagonal lines. Giving myself a glance of approval, I grabbed my silver Omega watch and put it on as I walked down the stairs. The weather still looked shitty, so I grabbed my overcoat and headed out.
While driving to their estate in the drizzling rain, I thought about the few meetings I needed to attend today. I’d grown tired of these bullshit tasks and was ready to move up at least to second in charge. What more was I required to do to prove my worth and loyalty to the company? My name should've been enough.
Outlaws: A Romance Anthology Page 24