51. Arabella
51
Arabella
I f you’d told me six months ago, I’d be wearing a plug up my ass, while working at a kink club that’s owned by my mother’s ex-boyfriend, I’d tell you how nuts you are. The sensation of it moving inside me while I wait on tables… is strange but not unpleasant. Every time it shifts, my parts tingle and I think about him . He admitted this is purely to torture me a little, but then proceeded to require that I wear it at least a couple hours each day. It’s going to be a long shift.
After Ryker nearly fucked the life out of me in his shower, he insisted on washing my entire body. I’ve never considered having my hair washed to be an erotic act, but he had me ready to fulfill that shower blow job fantasy of his, by the time he was finished. Everything about it was sensual and heavenly.
We pull into the backlot at Gravity and enter through the employee entrance as usual. “Can you show me where Axel’s office is, please? I’m going to talk to him for a few and then I’ll come and help you prep, if that’s okay.”
He points to the offices at the opposite end of the building. “You know my office, Hayes’ is next to mine, and your brother’s is in the corner. I’m pretty sure he lives here, so I’d be surprised if he isn’t up there. Never pegged him as a workaholic. He almost puts me to shame, but I’ve admittedly been a little distracted lately,” he smirks.
Smiling, I lift up onto my tiptoes and land a light kiss on his left cheek. “You’re welcome for all those distractions, Daddy. I’ll be right back.” And then I walk ahead of him with an intentional sway of my ass for maximum effect.
“The door’s open, little sis.” My brows pull together in question at Axel’s newly acquired telepathic abilities.
“How did you–” I question, letting myself in. “I hadn’t even knocked yet.”
His chair lets a quiet squeak as he spins to face me. Not surprising, since his huge frame is clearly too large for that poor chair. “I see everything, Arabella. Everything .”
“Okayyyyy… how long has it been since you’ve been on a date, Axel? If you haven’t, maybe you should. Might be good for you to get out more.” His social skills could use some work. “Wait… what do you mean, you see everything?”
“Let’s not talk about my love life, okay? I won’t ask you about yours, you don’t ask about mine,” he retorts with disgust written on his face. He could never be bothered to discuss his personal life with me, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he doesn’t want to start now. “Aren’t you here to talk about Mom? Let’s do that, so I can get back to work.”
My eyes instinctively roll back at his dismissal, reminding me, once again, why I don’t love talking to him… he’s a dick. “Fine. Her birthday is in two weeks, do you want to take her to dinner or do something at her place?”
He quirks a brow at my question. “When was the last time you got her out of the house to go out anywhere ?”
“Well, it’s been a while… Fine, I can’t remember the last time. But she did show up at my apartment not that long ago, looking for me,” I admit. “Would you rather just meet at her place and cook dinner for her?”
His eyes bore into me, suspiciously, like he’s processing the information and trying to determine his next move.
“Realistically sis, I don’t care. This is your thing and I agreed to do it with you so you’re not forced to do it alone.” My eyes widen. How gracious of him. “Tell me what you want to do and when you want me where and I’ll show up.”
My heart starts pounding harder in my chest, anxiety pulling at me from all directions. Once again, everything falls on me to handle… alone. “Fine, let’s meet at Mom’s house, late afternoon on her birthday, and you can help me cook dinner for her.”
His eyes droop, clearly bored of this conversation, as he turns back to his excessive amount of monitors. “Fine.”
I stand there for a moment, regarding him in his element, and I realize Ryker may be right. The blanket laid out on the couch, and a bag full of clothes do make it seem like he’s living, or at least sleeping here from time to time.
“Fine. I guess I’ll go now?” He doesn’t bother saying anything back. Instead, he lifts his arm and waves it dismissively in my direction. Fuck him.
My mood has soured considerably by the time I make it back downstairs to help Ryker. My shift doesn’t start until about half an hour before we open, so I have a solid couple of hours to take my feelings out on the bar glasses before the doors open. I’m not going to break them, but I’m going to give all these smudges a big what for.
“Hey, sweet girl,” Ryker coos as I approach. “How’d it go?”
Sliding behind the bar, I grab a glass and proceed to aggressively wipe its non-existent water spots, focusing intently on the task at hand.
“Hey–” Ryker grabs my bicep, pulling me toward him and lifting the glass delicately from my hand. “I asked you a question.”
With an exasperated huff, my eyes find his and the frustrations melt away in an instant. I swear this man has the power to soothe me with just a look. I can’t get enough of him.
“My brother is a fucking douchebag asshole dickface.”
He assesses me for a moment, before tugging my body into his hard, toned chest and wrapping his arms snugly around my waist. I can’t help but bury my head in his warmth.
“Went that good, huh?”
“I don’t even know what the point of that was. He gave me nothing to work with. He doesn’t give a shit what we do, so I decided.”
Leaning his head back, he tips my chin up with his finger. “Don’t let him get to you, baby. You need to be more firm with him, or he’ll never step up and do his part to help you. It's not all on you. At least it shouldn’t be.”
“I know. I know. It doesn’t feel like it’s worth the fight it would cause, though,” I whine.
He considers me for a moment. “I bet you’d feel better if you pushed back a little from time to time.”
He’s right, I should push back. “I don’t know how,” I admit.
“I know you don’t.”
After a long pregnant pause, I whisper, “I don’t want to talk about his dumbass anymore.”