Love Thief: The Greystone Family: Stolen Hearts

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

please scroll back for a full list of trigger warnings.

Iwake up with a start, my senses telling me something’s not quite right here. They’re right, I’m not alone. The sunlight is creeping under the blinds in the master bedroom of my docklands apartment, the mid-May morning starting to heat up. A bit like my body, as I smell the man taking up most of the king size bed. Pepper, leather, summer sun, cornfields, and the musk of a man. Kellen. I don’t open my eyes. I don’t want to believe it’s real. If I don’t see him he can’t really exist, can he?

He rubs his foot up and down my leg. “I can tell you’re awake.” His voice is a bit groggy. “I am real. You can’t pretend I’m not here.”

I know if I open my eyes, he’ll be looking at me, grinning. The bastard.

The unbelievable chain of events plays back through my mind. Me, Evie Greystone, him, Marcus Henry James Kellen Russell-Lord Stockton, his best mate Xander Barclay, and our two sons, James and Bucky, all standing in Kensington Registry Office. My memory mocks me, gasping out the immortal words ‘I do.’ Becoming in one fell swoop, the newly wed Countess of Stockton, wife of The Rock Star Royal.

I crack an eye open. “What happened to all my pillows?” The cosy wall I’d erected between us last night, as he’d insisted we should start as we mean to go on, is as absent as my sanity.

What was I thinking? Pretending we’re married for the whole world, and enjoying a full relationship, while in reality we’re merely ensuring our son James will inherit a title and estate on Marcus’s eventual demise. Although if he continues to stroke my leg, it may be quicker than either of them thinks.

I agreed to ‘marry’ Marcus, (or Kellen as I call him)—in a secret ceremony in the UK—for six months, in an effort to flush out the instigator of the title issues. And we’re scheduled to head out to Las Vegas in a few days to do the incredible deed all over again. This time in the full glare of paps, press, social media, and anyone who cares to look.

James, Bucky, and Xander left us at the restaurant after the ‘ceremony’ to go on to a club, so we headed home. Together.

So awkward. We drank whiskey, and I tried to pass out, but the more I drank the more sober I seemed to get. He suggested the bed, well insisted, and I couldn’t be bothered to argue. I built my pillow barrier, put on my PJs, and spent the most uneventful, PG-rated wedding night with a rock star ever.

Maybe I can bore him into a quicker divorce. I smile at that thought. I am a boring person, choosing to spend my days in and around old buildings rather than living the rockstar life, so it might just accomplish that.

“What’s that smile about? I feel a plot coming on,” he mumbles as he pulls me towards him. “Stop smiling like that, you’ll give me a complex.”

I huff out a breath at the fake panic in his voice. “I doubt it. Nothing gets past that giant ego. And stop tugging at me, you’re making me hot.”

He smirks, “Occupational hazard, baby.”

I start to laugh. “Unreal, Kell. You’re ridiculous.”

He pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head. “It’ll be fine, we’ll be alright. Six months, then you can go back to sleeping alone. We used to sleep together all the time.”

“Yes, but we did actually sleep, nothing else.” I roll my eyes at him.

“Well, we managed that pretty well last night, so it shouldn”t be an issue.”

I can feel his cock pressed against my leg and try to move away slightly.

He starts to laugh again. “Can’t help that. It’s morning, after all.”

“Morning, noon, and night, don’t really see much difference,” I snark at him.

“Oh, believe me, baby, there is.”

His pout is disarming and sexy as he smiles down at me through his lowered eyelids. The man is a menace. And that’s my cue to get up.

I push out of his arms and move towards the bathroom and shower. He laces his hands behind his head, watching me as I move around the bedroom.

“Shall I join you?” he asks, all innocence.

I don’t answer and hear him chuckle again as I slam the door. This is going to be a looong six months, but at least he’s respecting my wishes. I just wonder how long that’ll last, how hard he’ll push it.

I take a short shower, even though I could stay in for ages, letting the warm water ease any tensions and relax my mind. We need to get down to Devon. I need to bring the rest of my family up to speed on what’s happened. Is happening. Try to explain this debacle.

Opening the bathroom door to ask him if he wants to shower, my voice catches in my throat, an audible gulp replacing any intelligent words I had at the ready. Smirking, he comes towards me in no clothing at all. I try to avert my eyes, and remember to breathe. Oh, and look away. But his body would rival a Greek god, a masterpiece that draws the eye. My breathing picks up as he gets nearer.

“Like the look of your husband? You don’t have to just stare, feel free to touch.” He runs his hands up and down his taut stomach and abs, and my eyes have a mind of their own. They follow his hand motions as if they’ve been hypnotised, and he’s instigated the trigger.

I tut at him and move to go by him, but he moves his body slightly, not really enough to trap me, but not enough for me to comfortably walk past either. He’s making sure I have no choice but to brush up against him.

“Kellen, we’ve agreed,” I say in exasperation.

“No,” he murmurs, leaning in close, his breath a whisper against my ear, “you stated it. I just went along with it.” He drops his voice lower, softer. “Just so you know, I will if you want to. Because I really want to. That’s not changing.” He pulls back, looking directly into my eyes, his unusual bright green with black rings to my stormy grey, daring me to argue further.

I just shake my head and move on, brushing up close and personal, goose bumps as big as golf balls appearing on my arms. I need to put some space between us.

He doesn’t even shut the door on the bathroom, leaving me a clear view of him lathering up as I’m dressing. I sit to sort out my face creams, and get a grip on my jumbled thoughts and emotions. He knows which buttons to press, and how hard. God, don’t think about hard. It takes my mind to places I really don’t want to go. My breathing is picking up as I think about him facing me, full frontal.

As I stand, I can’t help a glance towards the bathroom. He’s pulling at his cock in rhythmic strokes, his other hand resting on the wall in front of him, his head lowered, his stomach muscles taut and beautifully defined.

My heart stutters, my mouth dropping open at the blatant sexuality on show. I’m transfixed, my vagina clenching in on itself. I”m sure it’s shouting out to him, putting the flags out so he knows where to go. Not that he would need any directions. I need to move, but my feet won’t go.

He drops his head back and, turning to pin me with his eyes, mouths my name and tugs harder, the biggest dirtiest smirk on his lips.

I forcefully uproot my feet. This is crazy. I can’t let him get to me on day one. I need to remember what he did in France, what he would have done, what he wanted me to do, and the fact that he hasn’t even apologised for it. I’ve had more apologies from Xander—who, to be honest, only kissed me—than I’ve had from Kellen.

Stomping out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, I slam the kettle on. Get your head out of the gutter. He wants you there with him. Do NOT go there.

I feel a lot more confident as I step out onto the terrace. The sunlight is bright here, and I shade my eyes as I look out over the river. I can’t be bothered to put up the umbrellas, to shut out the sun. I sit in one of the big comfy chairs and stare up at the clouds, floating slowly by as the breeze pushes them on.

I love this spot. I’m able to just watch and switch off my brain. Let the views, the boats, the weather drift past me. I normally make up stories as to where the boats are going, what they’re carrying. My own fantasy world. But this morning, my brain won’t shut down. It keeps spinning back to the man in my shower. How I’m going to deal with him. And we all remain sane.

The brightly coloured boat I’m staring at blurs, and I close my eyes. He’s here. My skin starts to prickle as I feel the first wave of energy hit me. The next onslaught is his scent. It’s so strong, even with the top notes from my body wash, his peppery leather musk seeps through. My nostrils flare, and my pulse picks up. I need a deflection technique. Think about bright boats and summer cornfields, anything to stop my mind focusing on him. But he burns so bright, he’ll scorch through the fields and blast the boats.

He clears his throat, and I open my eyes as if I’m surprised to see him.

No bloody shirt on. He’s a glorious specimen of a man. So bloody good looking it’s almost obscene. The sweatpants he has on must belong to James. They hang low on his hips, and if you look —which I don’t, of course —you can follow the V of his torso as it leads down to the outline of his dick. It’s still hard! How can that be? I ignore it, (yeah right), I mean him, and tell him about going to Devon.

“We’re ready to go as soon as you are,” he answers. “I might have to leave you there though. We need to finish up with some recordings. Then we’ve got Vegas to sort out. Are James and Bucky coming with us to Devon?”

“Yeah. And I assume Xan?”

He nods in affirmation. “They’ve just messaged. Should be here in half an hour. And they’re bringing breakfast.” He keeps his voice soft. Like a caress of the finest silk on your skin, it heats then settles to cool, seductive, sleek. But then every time you move, you’re reminded of the sensations, and the sensuality hits you again. He knows I love it.

He’s bringing the big guns to this party. No shirt, dick hugging sweatpants, and his gentle voice. Oh boy, it’s going to take everything I have to keep him in check. Why did I sign up for this? God, I love my son.

Xander is the first up the stairs, bouncing over to me. “Well, no bite marks at least this time.” He puts two fingers under my jaw, moving my neck side to side to give me a full inspection. His eyes alight with amusement.

“Well, what you can see anyway,” puts in Kellen with a grin, patting him on the back.

“Eww, stop,” exclaims James, his face crinkling in disgust. Then, changing to one of affection, he pulls me out of Xander’s clutches and in for a hug. I rest my head on his shoulder as he kisses my cheek.

“Yeah, old people, no thanks,” adds Bucky. “And even worse, your parents.” He makes a sign as if he’s warding off vampires and points at Kell for good measure. He laughs as he pulls me out of James’s arms and into his. I hug him close, as he whispers in my ear that he loves me. I can see he’s checking out my face. These boys are as bad as the Greystone men. But I know I do the same to them. The love in their eyes is a total blessing.

“I’m fine, Bucky,” I reassure him. “Make sure you boys get some food. Don’t let Tommy eat it all.” I say it loudly as Tommy is collecting all our bags. James and Bucky start to tease him about being unfit, but he just scoffs at them and plays at looking put out. He thinks he’s built like The Rock.

We all stand together with the boys flanking me, holding my hands. Kell and Xan stick to the periphery, watching the boys, watching us all. I don’t want them to feel left out, but it’s not my job to make them feel good or included.

Bucky grabs the food bags, breaking a bit of the tension. “Think we’ll have this on the go,” he states as Tommy and Mick are making short work of the luggage.

I climb into the minivan first—I hate sitting backwards—determined to get the large seats facing forward. James bumps into me as I’m stowing my jacket, and sits next to me, grinning.

As Bucky tries to get the seat next to me, Kell practically wrestles him out of the way. “Room for a little one?” He grins at me as he literally sits in my lap, he’s so close on the seat next to me, shoving Bucky into the seats across from us. “Aww that’s better,” he murmurs as he pats my leg, and squirms up close and personal. I can hardly breathe, he’s crushing into me so closely. James’s jaw is slack at his antics, as Kell just grins at him cheekily. He puts his arm along the back of my seat as Xander climbs in next to Bucky.

And he doesn’t let up. I sit stiff most of the way to Devon. I have to. If I let my guard down one millimetre, he’ll take everything and more.

With every conscious touch, brush, shift of his body position, my body follows suit. I know it’s doing it, I just can’t seem to stop it. I relish the next onslaught. His scent is constantly invading my senses, lowering my defences with every divine masculine note. My heart and my nerve endings resemble a furnace, with molten iron pouring into the inferno. Every pass of his fingers on my skin feels like the sparks of metal burning as they react with him. He is the oxygen. He is the catalyst. But if I let him know how much I love it, crave it, he’ll give me everything. And I’m worried we both might not survive it. Him.

The nearer we get to Devon, the more I relax. I swear the air changes and it’s as if it’s drugged just for me. I smile at everyone, my shoulders dropping, my whole body softening.

“You’ll love it here. It’s really beautiful,” I tell Xander and Kellen.

James butts in with, “I can show you a studio nearby. It’s really good. A German guy came over and put it in. The owners spared no expense.” James smirks. I don’t know why he’s not telling his dad it”s ours, but whatever. He wants to play games, I won’t spoil his fun.

As we pull into the stone gates and go up the winding drive, I sit back, finally feeling like I’m home.

Kellen touches my hand to get my attention, turning his face fully towards me. “Will Marshall remember me, do you think?” he asks quietly. If I didn’t know him better, I’d say he was nervous.

“Definitely. You’re not easily forgotten, trust me. And Marshall knew about you being James’s dad, so,” I shrug at him.

“Well, he’ll definitely remember me.” Xander’s confidence knows no bounds. “I’m actually more memorable than Kellen.” He laughs and punches Kell’s arm.

“Fuck off, Xan,” Kell retorts, rubbing his arm and grinning at him.

“I bet Pinky remembers me. She loved me.” Xander side-eyes Bucky, waiting for the reaction he knows will come.

“You know Pinky?” Bucky looks at him with amazement.

”Of course. She was a foal last time I saw her. So lovely, beautiful blonde mane and tail, pink body, she was in love with me.”

“Whatever. Pinky only loves Tubbs, but I’m a close second.” Bucky scowls, completely taking the bait.

“I’m sure when she sees me, she’ll remember that I’m actually her favourite,” Xander volleys back, just to piss Bucky off totally.

“Well, we’ll find out, because there she is.” I point to the Palomino pony in the field. She looks up at the sound of the car and waits to see which of her fan club have arrived.

Kellen is smirking at Xander winding up Bucky, but before he can join in the torture, he does a double take at the house gleaming in the sunshine. “Wow, that sure is a house!” he breathes out, smiling proudly at me.

Jesus I need to stop him doing that, stop the smiles, stop the niceties, stop being Kellen from my childhood dreams. Can’t he continue to be an arsehole? It’s much easier to deal with. I can swat him like a fly when he’s being a pain. But the alter ego nice Kellen? Him I might need protection from.

Xander and Bucky jump out of the car together and start to shout out Pinky’s name as they move towards the fence, elbowing each other to be the first to the pony. She ignores them both, looking beyond them towards James, Kellen, and now Marshall.

“Midarlins, how are you doin’?” Marshall hugs me and then pulls James in for a hug. Turning to Kellen with a genuine smile on his lips, he holds out his hand to be shook. “Young Russell, good to see you again.”

“It’s Kellen, Marshall.” He tilts his head and smiles as he takes Marshall”s proffered hand. “I remember you now. I wasn’t sure, but now I see your face, I remember you.”

We hear a whinny and Pinky runs towards the fence, going up and down the fence line continuing to whinny at us.

“What’s up with her?” Marshall asks as Bucky and Xander try to catch the pony’s eye. But she only has eyes for one man.

I can’t believe my eyes, and splutter out. “Oh My God. Is she…? She’s?—”

“A great judge,” Kellen answers for me, and strides towards the pink pony. “Ahhh my baby, so long, and still the most beautiful lady in the world.” That treacherous pony rubs her head up and down his body and then puts her head on his shoulder and sniffs at him. They both look ecstatic, and my heart misses a beat or two at the gentleness I see on his face.

“You’re a dead man, Dad,” Bucky hisses at him. “Mr. Tubbs will kill you, and so will Crockett.”

Kellen just laughs and continues to pet and kiss Pinky. Blowing in her nostrils so she can smell him back, rubbing her neck up and down.

“Well I hate to break up this reunion,” I finally get out as I realise I’ve been staring at him with awe, my mouth agape. “But the Greystones are here.” I point to the arriving truck. My nerves are starting to jangle. Oh my, how am I going to explain this?

“Time for tea and whiskey I think,” says Marshall as he peers over at me. I swear the man can read me like a book. I nod and take his hand.

“I think the good stuff, Marsh. You may all need it.”