33
GABE
“I need to show you something,” I whispered in Syn’s ear, tugging her away from where she was standing in the kitchen with Lauren.
I wasn’t concerned that the two of them were talking. Syn already knew that aspect of my life. I liked that we’d discovered each other’s pasts, that there were no secrets between us. There was nothing to hide.
“What do you need to show me?” She looked genuinely concerned until I pulled her into the bedroom and pushed her against the wall, diving for her mouth.
Syn had the most delicious lips. They were soft and full, a pale pink shade that deepened the harder I kissed her. She melted against me, wrapping her arms around my neck and returning my kiss with the same intensity.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” I murmured against her ear. “I can’t stop thinking about what it felt like to be inside you last night.”
Her cheeks reddened. It amused me how innocent she was. She certainly didn’t give that impression, but I’d learned it was all a cover, a bravado she hid behind. She didn’t need it anymore, though. I was proud that she trusted me enough to show her vulnerable side.
She was wearing jeans today, something she didn’t often wear. She had on a long turtleneck sweater, and I pulled it aside, running my tongue down her neck and nuzzling into the curve of her shoulder. As soon as my tongue brushed over one of her scars, she flinched.
“Stop it,” I scolded.
“I can’t help it,” she whispered.
“Just forget about them.”
“I can’t.”
I took that as a challenge. Just from the taste of her skin, I became like someone possessed. I fumbled with the buttons of her jeans, sliding my fingers down her soft flesh and into the warmth between her legs. She was wet.
I did that to her, and it made me feel like a fucking king.
I moaned, relishing the way my fingers slid between her legs so easily. There was an urgency to see how quickly I could make her come. Nothing was hotter than watching her crave the way I stroked her.
Even though I felt like certain aspects of my life were falling apart, being around Syn made me want to puff out my chest and walk around with an arrogant smirk on my face. She was mine. And I was hers.
I couldn’t figure out why I’d cried like a fucking baby the night before. I thought I’d always hated him. Just thinking about him brought a glut of bitterness that sank to the pit of my stomach, so the emotions that surged at the thought of something happening to him were confusing, to say the least. Losing myself in her was my only means of escape.
Syn’s head tilted back against the wall, but her hands grasped at me, trying to reach for my cock. I pulled my groin away and made a tutting sound, enjoying the disappointment that crossed her face. She wanted me, and I wanted that too, but not now. Not yet. I enjoyed tormenting her too much. Right now, all I wanted to do was listen to the soft pants of her arousal. I wondered if she was aware of the sounds she made, if she knew my brothers would have heard her through the walls when she climaxed, if she knew that she let out these sounds that would drive any man wild with desire.
I stroked her in slow circles, watching as her pupils dilated and her eyes rolled back in her head. I increased my pace, only playing, only teasing, and not pushing deep inside her like I wanted to.
And then the sounds came. Little moans. Glorious sighs of ecstasy. My cock strained hard against its confines, begging to be set free.
There were footsteps down the hall. Syn’s eyes flew open, alarm shining brightly. I placed my mouth over hers, bringing her back to the moment and swallowing the sounds she made.
“Please, Gabe,” she gasped. “I want to feel you. I need to feel you.” Her hands fumbled against my crotch, but again, I pulled away.
“Later,” I whispered. “Right now, I want to watch you come.”
I kept my eyes fixed on hers. She closed them again, and I stopped the circling of my fingers. “Look at me,” I begged. It was as if I needed it, as if seeing it, knowing I could make her feel the way she did, comforted something within me.
Her hazel-green eyes opened, the ones that reminded me of a cool autumn day. The kind of day that surrounded you with the sharpness of the breeze while warming you with the rays of the sun.
I bit her bottom lip—not hard, not enough to cause her any pain, but enough to make her moan louder. She trembled against me, crying out as moisture pooled over my fingers. Even the lightest stroke would have made me come with her, but I was denying myself in anticipation of what was to come. I intended for her to be exhausted, drained by my attention.
I still had my hand down her pants when her breathing finally stilled. Her eyes fluttered open, having closed at the peak of her arousal. I slowly pulled my fingers out and brought them to my mouth, licking them clean.
Leaning close, I whispered against her ear, “Tonight, I’m going to taste you.” I kissed her again, hard, grinding myself against her. She responded immediately, her fingers tangling in my hair, and I wondered what she thought of the taste of herself.
Reluctantly, I pulled away. “I promised Tyler I’d play a round of golf with him after lunch.”
“I didn’t even know you played.” Her eyes were glazed as she smiled lazily.
“I don’t. Come on, we’d better show our faces for lunch.” I tugged on her hand, but she resisted.
“We’ve only just finished breakfast,” she complained. “And I kind of need to change first.”
“Wear a dress?” I asked.
She smiled slowly and seductively, pulling her top over her head and lowering her jeans. She froze for a moment when my eyes moved to the deep scars that graced her arms, but then she straightened herself and gave me a seductive smile as she peeled off her underwear. I couldn’t help but adjust myself when she slipped into the bathroom, returning moments later in a small black dress that stopped mid-thigh.
I groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me. I’m not sure I’ll even be able to eat. All I want to eat is you. I’m going to lick every freckle on your body and then—”
She laughed and grabbed my hand. “Come on, Casanova. Let’s get lunch over with so we can feign tiredness and come back to bed.”
“That sounds so much better than golf.”
We walked into the dining room hand in hand. Everyone looked at us, and Jake smirked.
“Do you need to borrow a hairbrush?” he asked. “Your hair is all messed up.”
I playfully snarled at him and sat down, tugging Syn onto my knee. The table was filled with plastic containers.
Syn chuckled. “It’s just like Sunday dinner with my parents.”
I liked that she seemed comfortable here with us, even if I wasn’t. She fit in with my messed-up family. I could imagine her becoming friends with Lauren, Amelia, and Billie. I could picture the way she’d call Tyler out on his shit and the way she’d draw Jake out of his comfort zone of silence. Even Hamish didn’t seem to mind her, something I assumed had very little to do with Syn herself, but at least he didn’t hate her.
“So,” Billie started as soon as everyone began to dig into the containers of food. “Oliver’s first birthday is next month.”
Lauren gasped and looked over to where Ollie sat in his highchair, mushing food between his fingers. “Surely he can’t be that old already?”
Syn studied Lauren with curiosity. I adored when she did that. Her eyes would scan people and objects as if they were the most fascinating things in the world, only to shift away as if they had suddenly lost their intrigue.
“I know.” Billie sighed. “Time flies so fast when they’re little.” She looked over at Ollie, her eyes filling with warmth before she shook it off and turned her attention back to the adults. “We’re not thinking of anything too big, just more of a family event. Maybe some of his friends from daycare, that sort of thing. I hope you’ll come along too, Syn?”
Syn was startled by the invitation but grinned widely. “I’d love that,” she said genuinely, looking at me almost sheepishly.
“It’s going to be zoo-themed. Well, at this stage, anyway. I really must nail down the theme before I finalize things with the caterers and the decorators. Can’t have the décor screaming wild animals and the food pirate-themed now, can we?” She laughed heartily.
My father didn’t engage in the conversation at all. He sat pushing his food around on his plate. This was unusual for him. There was nothing about him that looked sick or weakened, but a part of me had softened toward him. As though sensing my gaze, he looked over at me.
“When are you going to get that hair cut?” he muttered.
And just like that, he was back to the father he’d always been.
Syn leaned toward Amelia. She opened her mouth as though to ask something, then closed it again when the rest of the table’s gaze fell on her.
“Never mind,” she muttered, even though she hadn’t said a word.
Beside my father, Billie attempted to frown. “Maybe pirates would be a better theme. What do you think, Amelia? You run that costume shop. What’s more relevant for birthdays these days?”
“Can’t say I’ve dealt with too many costume requests for one-year-olds. Either sounds wonderful to me.”
Billie sighed. “You’re no help then, are you?”
“Fuck,” Tyler muttered. He was staring down at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. It was a strange action for my older brother. He didn’t usually show emotion. “Fuck,” he said again, standing up and letting his chair clatter to the floor behind him.
“What’s happened?” Lauren placed her hand on his arm.
Tyler didn’t say anything, but his eyes locked with Jake’s.
“What?” Amelia demanded sharply, her gaze darting between them.
Tyler cleared his throat. “There’s an article that just came out. It’s about Jake.” He rubbed his chin. “And Brandon.”
Amelia’s hand covered Jake’s.
“What does it say?” I questioned at the same time my father asked, “Who’s Brandon?”
“He’s my biological father.” Amelia’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Fuck.” My voice broke on the word, the memory of what happened between Jake and him flooding my brain.
“What’s going on?” Hamish’s voice had risen now. It was more powerful, more demanding. He had no idea what had happened.
Tyler, Jake, and I shared an alarmed look before Tyler picked up his chair and sat back down, attempting to regain his composure.
“I’ve heard of this site. Some guy has been calling and asking me to invest in it for months now. I guess this is his revenge for my refusal.”
“What’s the name of the site?” Syn asked quietly.
“The Spill,” Tyler replied without looking up. His eyes were still fixed on the phone, hastily reading the full article.
“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Hamish slammed his hand against the table. Everyone jumped. Ollie started to cry.
“Did you have to do that?” Billie hissed as she lifted Ollie from his high chair and began jiggling him up and down, shushing him quietly.
“Jake has some history with Amelia’s father,” Tyler finally said.
“I beat him pretty badly,” Jake added.
“He deserved it.” Amelia’s fingers were white as they dug into Jake’s hand. She was looking at him. Only him. Her eyes were shining, as though she was fighting back tears.
“This is the last thing this family needs right now,” Hamish said. “What else does it say? Is there any way we can discredit it? Surely they don’t have evidence, nothing other than the word of whoever this man claims to be.”
“They’ve got screenshots of Jake walking into some dive bar, his hands covered in blood. And screenshots of when Lauren, Gabe, and I dropped Brandon off at the emergency department,” Tyler said.
Hamish’s expression was thunderous. “You were all involved?”
Lauren lifted her chin. “We were protecting Jake.”
“You’re all fucking morons.” Hamish shook his head. “Who’s the reporter who wrote this nonsense?”
Tyler scrolled back up to the top of the screen. “This is bad,” he muttered. “It’s even got quotes. There’s one from you, Gabe.”
“Me? I haven’t spoken to any reporters. What does it say?”
Tyler ignored me. “Fuck,” he cursed. “They spoke to Brandon too. And his version of the story isn’t exactly accurate.”
“Can they do that?” Amelia asked, her voice quiet.
“They quote what he says directly, so I guess they can.” Tyler's brows were furrowed as his eyes scanned the screen, flicking back and forth with each line of text.
“Who wrote it?” Hamish yelled, his booming voice echoing off the walls.
Billie glared at him as Ollie wailed and then she left the room.
Tyler flashed the screen of his phone as though we could read the small text. “It’s got two names attached to the article. Conrad Blaire, the guy who kept contacting me, and research by an E. Blaire. Must be related, surely.”
I felt like one of those cartoons where the ground is pulled from beneath their feet, and for a moment, they’re just standing there on nothing before realization hits and they fall. My brain kept trying to connect the pieces, but my heart didn’t want to accept the picture the puzzle revealed. But when I turned to Syn, her panic-stricken eyes told me everything I needed to know.