58. Landon
58
Landon
M y father was a cunt. He’d always treated Isla and me like possessions, not children. As long as we did his bidding, we were useful. The minute we said no, he went off on one and made our lives difficult.
The man was a narcissistic, manipulative bully. It was the main reason Isla had married Jonathon so soon after meeting him. She didn’t love Jon, but she was desperate to get out from under our father’s thumb, Jon being the lesser of two evils.
How our mother put up with Dad was a mystery, but she seemed happy. I guessed the unlimited credit card and umpteen holidays per year helped. Plus, Mom was the only person my father treated with respect.
If I’d known my parents were due home, I wouldn’t have taken Thea there. Not that I regretted our sexy time in the attic, even if my father’s little request had killed my hard-on stone dead.
“What’s eating you?” Cassian asked when I walked into our apartment, brushing the snow from my shoulders.
“Maybe that’s the problem,” Kyril smirked, a glass of vodka in his hand. “Nobody.”
“Has Thea replied to any of your ten million messages yet?” I asked him, knowing full well he was pissed because she’d ghosted him since their little woodland tryst.
Kyril growled and threw me a look that would have immolated a lesser man on the spot.
“Nope, thought not.” After pouring myself a large glass of whiskey - from my father’s distillery, so premium stuff - I perched on the edge of the sofa. “Must be why she was sooo desperate for my tongue between her luscious thighs.”
My words sank in and Kyril lost his shit. I heard Cassian mutter something about stupid assholes with needle dicks 0.01 seconds before Kyril’s fist hit my head. My whiskey went flying, which was a goddamn waste. Thank fuck I got a family discount.
Kyril snarled something venomous in Russian as he attempted to kill me, but before he could inflict too much damage, Cassian hauled him off.
“I will murder you slowly with a blunt spoon!” Kyril spat.
“Not gonna lie - that isn’t on my bingo card for this evening.” I smirked and picked my now empty glass off the floor. I should probably eat something. While Florrie’s cake had been delicious, two slices had barely made a dent in my appetite after a lunchtime gym session. I needed more calories.
“Settle down, you idiots,” Cassian snapped. “Since when do we fight over girls?”
“Since they both fell for the same one,” Milo remarked from his bedroom doorway.
“Bloody women.” Cassian glanced at his phone with a scowl, which I took to mean the Troll was still messaging him every hour.
Had her dick tattoo disappeared yet? Kyril’s artistic talent surprised us all. His rendering of an erect penis, complete with hairy balls, had looked quite striking on Camilla’s face. A much-needed improvement. Even if she didn’t agree.
“So tell us, why the miserable face when you walked in?”
I huffed at Cassian’s question and slumped down onto the sofa. “My parents showed up while I was at home with Thea.”
“Oh.” Cass nodded sympathetically. We were both card-carrying members of the dysfunctional father society, the club nobody wanted to join. “What’s the old fucker done now?”
“He wants me to schmooze Elaine Jordan, chairperson of the Global Whiskey Awards judging committee. Apparently she’s coming to London soon, and he’s keen to tip the balance in favor of our distillery.”
“So he expects you to do what? Give her a PowerPoint demonstration?” Milo asked, confused.
Kyril snorted. “No, he expects our pretty boy here to fuck the woman and keep her sweet.”
I nodded. That was pretty much my father’s MO. He’d been pulling the same trick for years.
He’d done the same to Isla, too. Unfortunately for my father, she’d met Jonathon when she turned 19, so her stint in purgatory didn’t last too long.
“Wow, that’s sick.” Milo looked as ill as I felt. Elaine wasn’t bad looking for an older woman, and before I met Thea, I might have rocked into her hotel suite at the Ritz without too many qualms.
But not anymore. The thought of cheating on Thea, even if we hadn’t had sex yet, made me want to heave my guts up.
Thea was the one for me. If she found out I was playing hide-the-sausage with other women, she’d never look at me again. Hell, if she knew about all the shameful things I’d done at my father’s behest, she’d probably reel with disgust. But since I had no intention of spilling that information, and neither did my friends, I was safe.
I got tested regularly, and I always double-wrapped it before I tapped it so she would be safe once she finally let me into her sweet pussy.
Which better be soon. I was in serious danger of developing repetitive strain injury from jacking off multiple times a day.
Speaking of…
It was time to beat one out. It might help ease the stress induced anxiety attack my father had caused.