Fabricated, page 7
I smile, my body brushing up against his. His length is hard between us. Brushing against me.
“Clothing is not allowed in my bed, Darling.”
I laugh, crawling in. “Liar. You’ll make an exception for me.”
He lets out a deep sigh as his arms wrap around me, dragging me to fit against him. “Just this one time,” he whispers into my hair.
I feel safe locked into him. Like he’s home… which is crazy because, like I’ve said, I have never had one. I just… Gah, I don’t know. I’m setting myself up for heartache. Our worlds can never collide. There is nothing here but a connection. One that will snap and break once the show is over.
Still, I fall asleep with a smile on my face. Noticing the blinking camera pointed at his bed. And I don’t even care if the world sees.
Before the lamp goes off, I see something has been added to his impersonal walls. It is a drawing framed in thick, gold ivory. A girl reading a book in a chair. Looking closely at the details, I realize it is me. My heart skips as the lamp shuts off. So that’s what Emerald was doing. My mind is having an even harder time shutting off now. That picture was drawn a while back. How long… I shut my mind down. Another smile appears as I settle more into Branson, my eyes drifting into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 11
@BransonLexington: “Do you know why the bad guy is everyone’s favorite? Yeah, me neither, you twisted fucks.”
Branson
We all sit in the living room. Everyone is talking as I stare at the stairs like a desperate fool. It is beneath me, but I can’t stop myself. As if the stairs have a magnet attached to them.
I replay the haunted look on Rayne's face from days ago. It had broken something in me to see her like that. To relive those memories. We didn’t bring it up again. Choosing to spend time with one another instead. Lunch here, swimming there. Small conversations before she went to her own bed. Rayne had a hard life, but she poured such light into my darkness, it was easy to forget.
“And I would just rather be on top, you know?” Dante releases a cloud of smoke from his mouth, passing the joint to Tucker. Tucker frowns, taking a hit.
“No, dude. I really don’t.” Tucker points the joint at Dante “You’re a selfish lover.” He says it with such distaste, I laugh.
I never understood a man who said he didn’t enjoy a girl riding him. It’s all for her. Exactly.
I love watching girls come undone on top of me. Feel them squeeze my dick. Soak my legs. Throw their heads back as their tits bounce in my face. Just watching them get off on me made me get off on them. Like, my dick did that. Ego boost. I’m a selfish bastard but I’m an amazing lover. Giving to a woman makes my dick hard. I mean, how could I not when I’m responsible for her pleasure?
“I personally like hitting it from the back. I don’t have to look at her. She doesn’t have to look at me. We both get off, and kicking her out is less awkward,” Kyler muses while taking a hit.
Tucker scoffs. “No wonder you guys only fuck a girl once. Who the fuck wants to come back to that?”
“I don’t know…” Dante chuckles. “Josefina likes my dick just fine.”
“She’s an airhead. She can’t help herself.” Tucker breaks his sentence off laughing. “What about you, Bran?” Tucker snatches the joint from Kyler, handing it to me.
I take a hit, closing my eyes as my head falls back against the couch.
Tucker is my best friend. I bullied the shit out of him, still do, but he just keeps coming back, like a loyal dog. So, I decided to keep him. And fine, maybe I enjoy his company.
“I think, how the fuck can you not get off to her loving your dick so much she soaks it?”
Everyone ponders that for a moment. Light bulbs blinking above their heads.
That’s why I am the boss.
The women file down the stairs. All dressed in the most fuck-me dresses I’ve ever seen. My personal favorite is the sweet strawberry blonde in a sparkly champagne dress. I don’t give a fuck what anyone else is wearing.
Tonight, we are going clubbing.
To one of the most expensive, exotic, sought-after clubs out there.
Tucker whistles. “Damn, Em.”
My sister fucking blushes. Is there not some sort of bro code against this?
Cameramen file out behind us as we walk to the limo, Tucker and Rayne fucking around. I should be threatened but I’m not. That’s pure love in the form of friendship.
And we are raw. Complicated, with deep emotions she doesn’t understand.
I was a watcher. I never participate in anything. I always sit in the VIP section and observe.
My Darling is a loose cannon tonight. Dancing on the bartop with a grand bottle of champagne in her hand. So careless. So free. Making a scene for all the miserable fucks. Ah, and here enters her better half. Tucker jumps up, kicking some asshole off the bartop that got too close. But then he has to go and dance with her. She’s belting out lyrics to the song blaring through the speakers. The crowd joins in. She has no clue how she gathered a crowd. She is such a light, so authentic you can’t help but look at her. I mean, fuck, just look at her.
Tori steps on the bar. Not being able to stand not having all the attention. She takes her top off. Throwing it into the crowd. But Rayne doesn’t care as she’s already trying to get down. Tucker has to help her, and they both almost fall over. I chuckle at them as they lean on each other to get up the stairs to our section.
Cameramen are shoved around as one is dedicated to follow each of us. Mine is getting an easier job since I don’t move too much. Lucky bastard.
“You need to chill, Strawberry. They were cheering for me. As soon as I stepped up, no one even noticed you.”
She huffs. “That’s so true, Tuck. What type of blood do you use to enhance your face?”
He stops at the top, facing her. “Why the hell would you say that?” he sputters.
“Because I heard rich people do that.”
“So, you’re stereotyping me?”
“Like you did me?” she shoots back. “Just a giant coke fanatic here. Nothing to see.”
“Oh! You want to do some?” Tucker asks, pulling his phone out.
She shoves him. “No.”
Her eyes lock with mine. I lick my lips and she smiles, strutting toward me. “Mr. Mysterious,” she whispers, crawling into my lap. My hands go to her ass, gripping the plump flesh.
Her body begins to move to the music. Her hot core sliding over my jean-clad length. My dick begins to grow with every movement.
I throw my head back when she grinds into me until I can’t take it.
Lifting her, I take us to the private bathroom. Setting her on the counter and locking the door.
I prowl toward her. Pushing her dress up as my hands drag up her smooth legs, exposing her naked pussy that has me stifling a groan.
“Well, that’s naughty. No panties, Darling?”
She grins. “Nope.”
Licking my lips, I drop in front of her, gripping her ass and pulling her toward me. My mouth connects with her. I inhale her deeply, running my nose along her clit. She moans, urging me on with gentle pulls of my hair.
With my tongue, I begin spelling out my name. She throws her head back against the mirror. “What are you doing?” She moans.
Sucking her lips into my mouth, I release it with a pop.
“Claiming what’s mine.” I push my tongue inside her tight hole, flicking it around, savoring her addictive taste. The sounds she makes, the way her body moves against my face, has me completely at her mercy. But she can never know that.
With my hand, I reach under her dress, my fingers clamping down on her nipple. She gasps, her chest moving with her frantic breathing. A solid three seconds of me sucking on her clit, and she’s falling apart. Soaking my lips and chin.
I’m not sure I’ve ever made a girl come that fast. Never had someone respond to me like she does. It is addicting, to be someone’s weakness.
Standing, I grip her hair, pulling her mouth to mine.
My tongue flicks and licks every inch of her mouth, encasing her senses with her own taste.
I pull away, looking down at her pink-stained cheeks and dilated lusty eyes.
“Wow,” she whispers, a little starstruck.
“Wait until I’m fully inside you.” She blushes at my words.
Pulling her up, I right her dress and smooth down her hair.
Grabbing her hand, I plant a kiss on her wrist.
“No more dancing on the fucking bar. People almost died tonight looking at what is mine.” She hugs herself to my arm, looking up to me and grinning.
Her mind is as sick as mine. Most girls would have the decency to look afraid. This one fucking grins.
I carry Rayne up the stairs on my back. Her giggle brings a small smile to my lips. I deposit her on her bed, bending down and removing her shoes. She lifts her hands up like a child and I chuckle, pulling her dress over her head.
Gripping my shirt, she pulls me to her. Her lips are dominating mine, taking control. I groan when I pull back. “I’ve got to go do something.”
“You’re not staying in my bed?” She pouts.
Adorable… it was not. In any form. Fuck.
I kiss her forehead, wondering when I became so soft. Who the fuck was I?
“I’ll be back. Just wait for me.”
Walking across the hallway, I slam my door shut, locking it. “What do I owe the pleasure?”
I hear her laugh before I see her. Turning, I see she’s sitting on my bed.
Her red fingernails hold a joint. Her gray eyes light up with fire.
She’s twenty years older than me. No one could have guessed it, though. She looks thirty-six, and her body? Twenty-five.
“How’s everything going, Branson?” Her voice is smooth.
I swallow, shifting back against my door, putting my hands in my pockets.
“Good, as anticipated. Did you expect this to be easy?”
“For you?” She stands, walking over to me. Her hands skate up my chest until she grabs my shirt. “No,” she whispers. “For her? Yes. She’s grown up with nothing. It shouldn’t be this hard.” Her lips are an inch from mine now.
“I’ll get the job done. Don’t worry about that.” She licks my neck, her hot tongue making my eyes close.
“Good. You can’t fuck this up. Now,” she says, pulling back from my neck, “business is done, it's time for pleasure. It’s been a while, Branson.” She grabs my shirt, pulling my lips to hers. My hands go to her ass, squeezing.
I immediately drop my hand, pulling away. “I told you this was done.”
She rubs my dick through my pants. “Yes, but one more time won’t kill you,” she whispers, kissing me again.
Sue me for my mommy issues. Because I can’t resist.
Chapter 12
@RayneMarshall: “Mental health check. Are you good? Neither is anyone else. Welcome to life.”
Rayne
He was just talking.
Talking.
But those facial expressions. Have you ever seen someone and they just make you ache? Make butterflies erupt? The promise of something amazing flowing through your body? I swear he clouds my judgment. I just want to wrap him around me, and not completely in a sexual way. I can’t explain this feeling. Well, maybe. It’s like getting a text from your crush admitting his feelings for the first time. It makes you all warm and nervous but completely amazing. Now times that by one hundred.
He had on a white t-shirt. The crown tattoo by his neck peeking out, black ripped jeans molded to his powerful legs. A black woven bracelet on his unmarked arm. His rings glowing on his fingers. He does this thing, where his eyes are never fully open. His face is always in a serious expression. I’m sure some find it scary, but I melt for it.
Tucker snaps his fingers in front of my face, and I jerk back.
“You have some drool right,” he wipes his thumb by my chin, “here.” I smack his hand away as he laughs. The camera crew circles around everyone as we go about our lives. Like this is normal.
It still isn’t.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
I nod. “Yeah. If you can find them, I want to know.”
When I originally looked for my parents, the file was sealed. The next time it was gone. Poof. Into thin air, it had disappeared. But with Tucker’s connections, we think we can find out more. Some world-class hackers. It is going to cost me a pretty penny but I don’t care. I want to know. I have questions.
Like, what’s my medical history? Are they allergic to shellfish too? Why the fuck had they abandon me? Was I not good enough? Was something wrong with me? You know, basic things that could boost my mental health.
“All right, I’ll text my guy.” He grips my shaking hand. I look at him, his eyes soften. “It’s going to be all right, Ray. No matter what happens, it’s going to be okay.” A lonely tear rolls down my cheek as I nod. He stands, kissing my forehead. Then immediately he is texting on his phone.
I walk outside, going to the yard by the pool that leads to the pond.
“Where are you going, slut?” Tori snickers from behind me.
Stopping, I turn around to face her.
“Oh look,” Josefina puts her hand to her chest. “She’s sad. Have you been crying, little Rayne? Is the world not fair?”
Tori smirks as I wipe my face. “Oh, honey, no need to wipe them away. You’ll just be making more.”
I narrow my eyes at them. They laugh before Josefina launches at me. Taking me by surprise as we go to the ground. Unlike Tori, she knows what she is doing as she pins my body to the ground, holding my hands together above my head.
I feel a wire tie around my ankles.
“Did you think you could punch me with no retribution?” Tori hisses as she comes to my head, squatting down.
I buck, Josefina lets go of my wrist and Tori grabs them. A slap comes to my face. I feel the sting, the lingering heat. “Stop moving, bitch,” she hisses out.
“Get off me!” I scream, bucking some more. I won’t go down without a fight.
Wire bites into my wrists.
I am being lifted by the two of them. Tori at my head, Josefina at my feet.
My body launches into the air before I am thrown into water. The sound around me is distant and disoriented. My body sinks. I shake around, trying to swim.
I continue to sink.
My vision is blurry as I look up. Images of Tori and Josefina wave with the ripples of the water.
My lungs burn and squeeze in my chest, wanting to expand. I feel like my insides are exploding.
Panic seeps in. They say you’re fight or flight, but what if you’re both?
I thrash my body. Willing the wire to break and free me. I did not go through what I had for it to end this way.
I pull at my hands. The wire bites into my flesh, causing pain to sting the area.
I wanted to scream. To beg. I wanted to live.
God, I just want to live. The things that once seemed so important now seem minuscule. All the times I panicked over nothing seem ridiculous. Such small things when, in the end, it doesn’t matter. I try getting my belly to roll. Hoping maybe it will make me move up. Like when I was a kid and pretended I was a mermaid, only swimming with the lower half of my body.
I try moving my feet, but the wire that I thought was only around my ankles is snaked around, squeezing my feet.
My mouth opens, water rushing in. I can’t choke it up. I can’t move. I can’t fucking breathe.
So, what if you fight and it’s not enough? What if the fight is sometimes giving up?
Acceptance sets in. My mind shifts, rolling through my short life. When I pictured what I would see before I die, I always imagined a rapid slide picture of all the terror. Instead, Jordan smiles at me. Dancing around our room at the group home. Her smiling eyes when she shows me her engagement ring. Her holding me when I got accepted into college. All these small moments I took for granted.
And then I think of him.
Branson winking. Our first kiss. For such a short amount of time, he sure did make an impact. I wanted to conjure up a what-if life for us. But my mind is too busy protecting me from my reality. Like it had done so many times before.
His soft smile is the last thing I see.
I’m coughing. Light is shining in my eyes. I can breathe.
The sound is amplified. “Look at me, Strawberry.” I follow the voice, landing on Tucker. He sighs, resting his head on mine. I hear shouting and look the other way.
Branson is in Briggs's face. “Were you going to let her fucking die?”
Briggs takes a step back, shaking her head. “Of course not, it was just good footage.”
Branson kicks a chair, and it goes flying. “Fuck your footage! She could have died. Can you get that through your fucking head? Then what would you have done? That should have never been allowed to happen!” He paces before his eyes come to me. He lets out a breath, walking over to me.
His hands run through my wet hair gently despite the anger that is etched on his face. Tucker is lying next to me now with his hand on his stomach, looking to the sky. His other hand locks with mine and I squeeze it tightly.
“Are you okay, Darling?” My focus moves back to Branson. I nod. I don’t feel like I can speak. My throat is raw, and my lungs burn when I breathe.
I have a million questions, but they all stop when Branson gently picks me up. Cradling me into the house, up the stairs, until we are in my room.
He places me on my bathroom counter, turning on the shower. He peels my wet clothes off before taking his wet clothes off as well. I hadn’t noticed that before. It then clicks that he must have been the one to save me. I knew I should feel some type of way, but I am still in shock, my mind still a little groggy.
He picks me up, walking us into the shower. He rests me against the heated tile wall, his body still wrapped around mine, his forehead resting on mine. Water drops off the hair hanging in his face and onto my cold skin.
