Bastion could easily see a resort being popular here if this wasn’t privately owned by the Stewarts. Leaving it for wining and dining business clients, only, seemed wasteful. There were probably less than half a dozen times they used it a year.
A paradise uninhabited.
Rich folks bought expensive shit just to lock it up and look at it.
His father loved vases. He wouldn’t even let real flowers be put in them. Some were so old that they couldn’t handle the water to fill them, the original purpose of any vase. Pricey trinkets that his stepmother would smash in one of her moods.
Bastion made sure to provoke her temper regularly.
“What would you prefer to drink before dinner? It will still be about forty minutes.”
Bastion turned from the big window view of the ocean beach. He’d come here to relax after he finished his phone calls. He was still too wound up after the stress of dealing with the kind of filth that used people heartlessly to make their blood-money to risk letting Tess see him yet.
He felt primed to snarl and fight in a beastly display of temper. Uncivilized.
The butler stood close behind him as Bastion turned to answer the spoken query. Bastion curled his lip into the briefest of polite smiles, edged with surprise. He took a step back.
The butler was dressed impeccably, someone even Bastion could take a lesson from to learn to make an impression. There were other servants for handling the liquor and plates, but the butler liked to do the one-on-one talking with the guests. A personal touch.
Bastion bet he had everyone’s names and preferences memorized by the end of the night. Anything the butler didn’t know, he was likely experienced enough to hazard a guess and anticipate their needs.
“Whiskey, neat.”
It was a simple enough drink. He didn't need to ask for top-of-the-line liquor. Of course, they would only keep the best on their shelves. He would let the butler figure out the little details, like a wine connoisseur picking out the match to a meal.
War walked into the room. He must have been done with his father.
“Make that two, James. The twins don’t drink alcohol. Some of that pear cider, mulled and heated up. Not much, it’s thick as honey. As for Tess, you’ll have to inquire. I’m not sure she drinks alcohol, either.”
Bastion turned back to the ocean view. War joined him after giving the butler his orders. They both waited in silence. The butler returned with the easier to prepare whiskey tumblers first, then returned to the kitchens to make mulled cider.
“Think Tess will be cold after dipping her feet in the ocean?” Bastion inquired.
He kept his small-talk polite in case the butler returned unexpectedly or War’s father showed up with his business guests.
“Possibly. You said she only went in to her knees because she couldn’t swim?” War asked, confirming what Bastion had told him.
They all had to be aware of Tess’s lack of finesse in the water.
“Yeah, her knees, but her jeans were too tight to roll up,” Bastion replied.
War turned to face Bastion more fully and changed topics.
“My father approved money for private security as well as for more investigators.”
“I thought I was handling the investigation?” Bastion asked, taking a sip from his whiskey.
He wasn't a heavy drinker, although that certainly had become more than a personal preference after Kade’s accident. Bastion had never let himself get drunk.
Now, alcohol was only a social requirement. One or two sips, then the rest of his glass found its way into a plant or over a balcony. When all else failed, he would put his glass down somewhere and forget to pick it back up.
“Your dad keeps a tight fist on the purse strings, Bastion. What we need are your street contacts. The men I’ll bring in will be outsiders, most of them from out of country.”
“Fine,” he agreed.
Contacts couldn’t all be bought. Bastion knew a few that were as valuable as all the hired help War was arranging. He’d prepared everything for the new men War was going to hire anyway.
Bastion knew he’d have to share control over the investigation.
It was just harder than he’d thought it would be to share.
“I’ll get in touch with my street contacts but they’re jittery around anyone that even has a whiff of the cops on them.”
“My guys are professional private militia.”
“Exactly. My guys are unprofessional, washed-up lawbreakers.”
War sighed. He put his empty whiskey tumbler down on a discrete shelf that pulled out from the wall, meant for that purpose.
“I didn’t tell my Da everything. He wanted my plan to fix things, not my problems handed to him. Builds character, yadda, yadda. We’ll have to work with what help we get and talk our own way around any personality differences between them and your street personnel.”
Bastion finished his whiskey as well. It burned. The taste of it wasn’t completely unpleasant. He preferred what lingered on his tongue instead of the warmth that sat in his stomach, reminding him that the potent whiskey was more than he was used to drinking.
There had been a generous three fingers in his glass.
“Put me in charge and I’ll knock skulls together of anyone that doesn’t follow orders to get along,” Bastion offered.
“Da has a similar approach,” War said. “He has too many sons and not enough patience for our squabbles.”
“Patience can be overrated,” Bastion said. “Send Tess to my room to get cleaned up for dinner after she finishes her cider. I’ve stretched my own patience far enough.”
War heaved another sigh. “Do you think we took things too far with her in the jet? Too fast?”
“Not soon enough. She ran once. If you want to be her boyfriend, act like it. Don’t force Tess to make all the moves, like a pansy. I have enough reports on college-boy to know he never wooed her properly, just snatched her up so no other guys would take her while he was playing ivy-league wannabe. He left her to moulder. I’m surprised he even got up the guts to try anything other than quick missionary poke.”
“Yeah, but this group thing...”
“Was hot as fuck,” Bastion said after a quick glance at the open door. He kept his voice down. “I had no idea or I would have given new meaning to the Musketeers ‘one for all and all for one’ a hell of a long time ago.”
“Not sucking your dick,” War muttered.
“Not spanking your ass,” Bastion retorted. “But don’t tell me the idea of getting some of that sandwich action Keir’s bragging about with Tess in the middle is something you’re going to pass on.”
“You’re so goddamn bossy it should make my dick limp,” War protested.
Bastion turned around and leaned his back against the window, smirking at War. He casually crossed his arms, owning the moment, even if he was outsized by War’s muscular physique.
Their bodies weren’t far enough apart to count for anything but on the football field. Even then, Bastion could make it challenging, especially if he played dirty.
“You were a fucking beast and Tess loved it,” Bastion said. “I think you’re too afraid of hurting girls to let that beast off the leash often. Think of me as a choke chain. I’ll only yank if you pull too far. I’ll keep you from running completely wild. You return the favour and hand me my ass before I do anything to hurt Tess with my mouth. We all have our triggers and I don’t want Tess to accidentally flip one of mine without you there to rein in my baser emotions.”
War took him seriously. “Poison in your words?”
“Yeah, sometimes. I’m not nice to girls,” Bastion admitted. “A real bastard. Haven’t you heard?”
“Your home is the poison. I don’t believe you would ever let that blackness seep into your relationship with Tess, no matter what you say. She’s pure and you’re different around her.”
Bastion dropped his cocky smile. “That’s the problem. I hurt other girls on purpose. The
y don’t matter, me to them or the other way around. We’re all using the other ones. Jockeying for position in our families.” He uncrossed his arms. “Tess is special.”
“Of course, but why?” War pushed him. He stepped closer. Let his taller, wider body block Bastion’s sight of the doorway. “Why is Tess special to you?”
“Phoenix club,” Bastion answered, straightening in response to War’s getting close. “She’s our chance to do right. Rebirth. I never felt so light as when I’m with her. It’s like I can fly, no matter how much life weighs me down. She makes me want to be better. Not different, just achieve my potential. Or some shit,” Bastion said, disparaging comment added to stop himself from sounding like a complete sap.
“She touched you and you didn’t hate it,” War said, putting it in simpler terms.
“That’s right,” Bastion agreed.
He crossed his arms again, trying to offset it by a smile.
“Go. I’ll send Tess to you for that talk. Think you can behave like Charming if you’re alone this time?”
“Yeah, I know you’ll take me to task if I’m bad,” Bastion said, uncrossing his arms again. He cuffed War on the shoulder, a friendly knock. “You might want to take a few lessons in the ring with Kade.”
“Think I can’t knock you out?” War scoffed.
“I think you play too clean to have much of a chance,” Bastion explained, then walked on past War towards the doorway.
“Lucifer,” War called out behind him. “Tess knows better than you.”
Bastion chuckled. Smart girl.
The hallway was empty as Bastion walked past the kitchens. He could smell the sweetness of mulled cider, so the butler must be finished making it.
Though he was tempted to go into the kitchen and ask for a cup of cider to take to Tess himself, so he could get her up to his bedroom sooner, he kept on going towards the back of the house.
Tess was having fun with the twins. Bastion didn’t want to cut that short. What he had to say to her would be sobering, a slap back into their reality that couldn’t be avoided. He had only masked it as something sexier to the others.
This was between him and Tess. Something that was Bastion’s sole responsibility to address with her. He knew about hiding a dark past.
Tess didn’t seem like the type to want money to be used to cover up wrongs, hide the dirty grit she picked up walking the same path as her filthy father, but for entirely different reasons.
She wasn’t as pure as War said. It was impossible to retain her innocence and protect herself at the same time.
Bastion walked into the room the butler had given him for their stay. It was big, lots of windows. He’d drawn the curtains earlier. Now, he needed to turn on the room’s lights.
Sound might echo a bit. Good thing Bastion had gotten a room set at the end of the hall.
He walked over to the dresser and loosened his cuffs, taking off the links.
He was used to stripping girls down, overlooking flaws like the vices that most people used for crutches.
Drinking too much. Smoking or vaping. A little gambling debt. Sneaking in a smutty story on a phone while sitting in church.
What did it matter if he was only going through the motions of getting his dick in a society cunt his stepmother groomed for the task?
Bastion didn’t care if they were flawed. He turned the girls he fucked onto their bellies so that he couldn’t see their faces, and then took his momentary pleasure. Faked resistance was met with gags and bondage. He’d developed a reputation.
Some girls wanted to be punished. They were attracted to the danger of flirting with a guy that would oblige them with the control they craved in their spoiled lives. He gave them some harmless smacks on their asses, whispered filth in their ears about their misbehaviour. Advised them to fess up to Daddy.
Bastion wasn’t a father substitute. Hell, he was the guy their daddy warned them about and their mother secretly lived their cougar fantasies through by sending him their daughters.
Fucking family therapy, literally fucking.
Tess needed a smack on the ass, and not entirely for play. She should have her misconceptions stripped. Bastion was the guy for that job, but he’d also roast his own balls before he’d tell her to go to Daddy.
That meant Tess would need a different approach.
Bastion was nervous about this encounter more than any previous girl he brought to a room for a quick fuck. There was something to lose more than his precious control.
Screw it.
He would trap her like any other girl. Use seduction and the promise of giving her those dark desires girls secretly craved like chocolate on Lent. A little of the forbidden, a tiny bit naughty, and once they got a taste for it, more.
Only Bastion wouldn't tie Tess up to stop her from touching his scars, keep her face down on a bed while he fucked her. He was going to bind her to him so that she couldn’t run.
A soft knock on the bedroom door he’d left half-open told him it was time to put actions to his thoughts.
“Hey, can I come in?” Tess asked.
Bastion turned from the dresser where he’d laid his shirt cuffs.
Tess stood in the doorway. Her hand was still raised and she rapped it playfully on the open door again.
He noticed she didn’t enter the room, waiting for his consent. You would think that would be the manners of a girl with siblings, like Tess. Bastion had learned differently, seeing how the twins were constantly barging into his room when they came over. He was sure they did it to each other, comfortable in each other’s rooms as if it was their own.
Tess was nervous.
He had to play that card. Folding his long sleeves up to the elbow and then shoving them over the joint for ease of movement, he made Tess wait.
“The beach was really nice,” Tess said.
Small talk. Definitely on edge. Best to ignore it and let Tess know she was in trouble. There would be no getting around him by avoiding looking at the elephant in the room.
“Your jeans are soaked. Get in here, close the door, and remove your wet jeans,” Bastion said.
He watched her face for how she would react to his order. His tone had been gruff, a touch impatient.
Tess straightened up. “We were just walking the beach. The twins got wet, too. You were there.”
There was the backbone he should have anticipated. He had to nip that in the bud too, if it interfered with her obeying a direct order. Considering he’d had his hands on her naked body while she got nailed hard and fast by War on the jet, stripping off her wet clothes in front of him was a tame request.
She was making excuses, testing him without even realizing it.
At least he hoped. If she was playing games knowingly, he was so fucked sideways. They didn’t have time to indulge a struggle for power right now.
“You have your safe-word, Kitten.”
He prowled forward after telling her the only out he would allow her.
Tess glanced down the hallway and then quickly stepped into the room.
Bastion had already given her the chance to enter the room under her own power. He wrapped his fingers around her closest arm to him and gave her a yank to clear the door entirely, then he let go, and shut the door himself.
He turned the lock.
Eyes were the first to give away a person’s nervousness. Tess had the wide-eyed, dilated-pupils look of a girl trying to take in all of her surroundings at once. Her gaze was attuned to pick up the slightest threatening movement.
Bastion moved slow, sure, but he never stopped to allow time for her need to run to override her frozen indecision.
She shivered.
Bastion let his fingers trail up one arm, starting from her wrist as he petted some of her disquiet.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asked.
Tess gave a nervous little laugh.
Bastion poked her belly for more.
She spit out bigger laughs, louder this time. Always w
ith the cute sayings. Her mind was fascinating. He and the other guys could always pull out a saying to amuse her.
He bet, even scared of what he would do next, she had been thinking half a dozen other things. Sayings were her lighthouse, guiding her through the storm of her thoughts.
“Stop. No tickling. They make feather whips for that kind of torture,” Tess protested, bending over to protect her belly with her hands.
Now that he had her attention and she was more relaxed, Bastion gave her ass a hard smack right over the seat of her jeans. He had to hold her by the arm he had been petting so she didn’t stumble forward in surprise.
The pain would have been lessened because her muscles weren’t tensed, a kind of thing people learned in the ring. How to soften the blow.
There was a delicate balance to giving Tess the dominance she expected from him without crossing a line that would make her truly uncomfortable. Her nervousness earlier meant they were both still learning a lot about each other’s limits.
“You going to lose those jeans or do you want me to drag you to the bed and give you a spanking over them until your ass is too hot to keep them on?”
Tess didn’t straighten up, although she stopped laughing.
“Spank me.”
Bastion hadn’t expected that answer. Tess sounded like she was questioning it. Nonetheless, she had her safe word.
He scooped her up in one arm, hooking her underneath and around her belly. Her hands gripped his forearm as he lifted her up and carried her over to the bed.
He should be talking to her about the drugs and her mother. The implications for the two of them and their families, now that Jensen had his claws into them both. Although, Jensen didn’t know about Bastion’s role yet.
The other guys weren’t skating the edge of the law as close as Bastion and Tess. They might not think of what Tess risked and the pressure on her compared to them. If things went south, her mother would be the first to sink. Social workers would confiscate the kids like the repo man took away a big-screen TV you hadn’t earned, deemed a bad debt.
Tess would be lost.
Spanking wasn’t going to solve anything, but it would spend Bastion’s frustration as good as a hard fuck. He hadn’t burned his excess energy with any others by doing either activity since meeting Tess.
Duplicity (Victory Lap Book 2) Page 17