Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
MACKENZIE
SEVENTEEN-YEARS OLD
“Y ou always were a good slut?” my father says to my mother as he fucks her over the table in the entrance foyer. They don't really give a fuck who's around. I should be grateful I'm not on the receiving end of my father's good mood. After a couple more grunts and moans, they're done, and I make my way down the stairs. My father is zipping up his pants; Mom is straightening her dress. When they see me, my father beckons me forward and, like a good little slave, I obey.
“Where are you off to?” he asks.
“A party at Heath’s,” I say, knowing full well I can't lie to the man because he knows all.
“Well, you can cancel your plans. We're having a new business associate over.”
“What does that have to do with me?” I ask, already dreading the answer.
“You're going to entertain him,” my father says with a cruel smile. “Show him a good time. Keep him happy.”
My mother glances at me with malice in her eyes. “Oh, I don’t think we will need that kind of entertainment with this one, Gordon. But Mackenzie should stay nonetheless.”
But I know better than to refuse. I am not a person in their eyes. Just a possession to be used as they please. And so, I put on a smile and do my duty. “Fine,” I nod, my stomach lurching.
“I’m going to expect you to be on your best behavior for me,” My father says, stalking toward me. When he grabs my chin between his thumb and pointer, bile rises to my throat. He lets go, his finger trailing down my neck, before he cups a breast and squeezes. “Maybe, I will reward you later, little one.”
My body tenses, but I force myself to remain composed, as staff scurry around, preparing for yet another one of my parent's lavish dinner parties. I know better than to show any sign of weakness or resistance. My mother pretends not to notice, as if a father getting handsy with his daughter is normal.
The doorbell rings, and my father releases me with a sharp pat on the cheek. “Make sure everything is in order,” he barks before leaving me standing there.
A few minutes later there are footsteps in the hallway, and then my mother’s cheerful voice. “Mackenzie. This is Creed Torres. Our new business associate. Creed, this is our daughter.”
I turn and take a sharp intake of breath, completely taken aback but catching myself quickly. Standing in my living room, in all his fuckable glory, is the man I fucked a few weeks ago at that bar outside town. What the ever-loving-fuck is happening right now? I feel my face flush but clear my throat. If my father gets wind that anything is amiss, it will not bode well for either of us.
Creed's expression is just as stunned as mine, but he quickly recovers and extends a hand. “Nice to meet you, Mackenzie.”
I shake his hand, trying to ignore the electricity that courses through me at that simple touch along with the memory of his lips on mine. The feel of his cock stretching me. Stop! I chastise myself. This can only end badly.
“Likewise," I say, trying to keep a straight face.
Creed looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. It's not every day you find out you've fucked the daughter of one of the most ruthless businessmen in the country.
The tension between us is palpable, and I can't help but wonder what he's thinking.
“Make Mr. Torres comfortable, I'll be right back,” my mother chirps before disappearing down the hallway.
My father's phone rings, and he excuses himself to take the call, leaving Creed and I alone in the living room. Awkward silence hangs between us as we stand there, both clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
“Well, this is quite a coincidence,” Creed finally says, breaking the silence.
I can't hold back a bitter laugh. “Coincidence? It's strange that we hooked up and now you're in business with my father. Did you know who I was?"
He frowns, genuine confusion on his face. “I had no idea who you were when we met. And even if I did, I would never use someone like that for personal gain.”
He sounds sincere and I realize he's telling the truth and feel a small sense of relief. “Well, let's keep what happened between us just that - between us.”
He nods in agreement and takes a step back. “Trust me, that is a given. So much for being from out of town,” he mutters.
“Technically, I am,” I snap.
Just then, my parents return. We exchange some polite small talk before my mother announces it's time for dinner. As we make our way to the dining room, I can't help but wonder what will happen if anyone finds out we slept together. Men have lost their lives for far less. But for now, all I can do is put on a smile and play nice, with Creed Torres, for his sake and mine.
* * *
Jenson smirks, clearly amused as I recount the drama with Creed. He leans back in his lounge chair, a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips.
"It's not funny, you prick. My dad will kill us if he finds out," I grumble, feeling a mixture of anger and fear at the thought of my father's reaction.
Jenson tenses up at the mention of my father. “It was just a one-time thing, right? So, what's the big deal? Unless there's a chance you want round two, you’re both safe,” he says.
I shove him. “Of course not.”
But deep down, I can't deny the thoughts I’ve had of Creed since that night. I even went back to the bar twice afterwards, hoping to run into him again. And now he's here, working for my father, sexier than ever.
“What are you going to do?” Jenson asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Nothing. But it doesn't help that he's so damn attractive,” I admit with a sigh.
“Yeah, and nothing but trouble,” Jenson says sternly. “I don’t have to remind you that your father is a fucking monster. He won’t think twice about putting a bullet in that man’s fine skull.”
“God. I know all that!” I say, frowning, my gaze shifting to the door leading to my father's study. From where I'm sitting, I have a perfect view of Creed's firm ass.
“Well, as much as I would love to sit here and watch your shameless ogling and pining, I've got some shit to take care of,” Jenson says, standing up from his chair.
I scowl at him. “What shit?”
“Just stuff, Kenz.”
“I wish you would just give up on that asshole. He's toxic, Jenson.”
He leans down and kisses my forehead. “I love you, Kenz. We all have our demons. Remember that.”
“Yeah, love you too,” I mutter as he walks away. The thing about friendship is that there can be a blurry line between wanting to be supportive, and respect their choices and doing what's best for them and kicking their ass. And right now, I'm leaning more towards the latter with Jenson.
I stand at the edge of the Olympic-size pool, feeling the warm sun on my skin and admiring the way it dances off the sparkling blue water below.
The cool tiles feel good under my feet and take a deep breath. I crouch down, dipping my fingertips into the water's surface. A rush of adrenaline courses through me as I push off and dive head-first into the water.
The cool depths soothe me instantly, and all of my worries slowly melt away. The rhythm of my breathing becomes almost hypnotic as I swim, each stroke taking me further from reality.
When I break through the surface at the other end, movement catches my eye. Creed looms over me, a smirk on his face.
“Fuck! You scared me!” I say, using my arms to pull myself out of the water.
His eyes roam down my body. The man isn’t even trying to hide his appraisal. But then he clears his throat and looks away, handing me a towel. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Can I help you with something?”
He leans against the pole of the gazebo. I’m stricken once again by his olive skin and hazel eyes, greener than brown. His brows pull together, and it’s probably the sexiest thing about him. The tank he’s wearing does everything for his muscular frame, and the shirt over it has a logo that reads Torres & Garcia .
“Fresh air.”
“Oh, yeah? You know what I think. I think you spotted me out here, and you wanted a closer look.”
He smirks. “That so?”
I discard the towel on the lounger, then reach behind my neck and untie my bikini top letting it fall to expose my breasts. His eyes drop instantly, and he licks his lips not moving an inch. Then he looks over his shoulder.
“Put that back on,” he says. “Now.”
“Why?” I ask, kneading my tits. He looks away, his jaw clenching, “Your parents are in the house,” he says.
“Then it isn’t anything they haven’t seen,” I say. “Trust me.”
Creed stares at me, and I can tell he’s trying to decide how to respond. Finally, he says, “Still, they might not be comfortable with me being here.”
I shrug and run my hands over my breasts. “They don’t have to know. And anyway, why does it matter? It’s not like I want to do anything else. Just show off a little bit. You know you like it.”
“Whether I like it or not doesn’t matter now does it?”
I step closer to him, pressing my body against his. I look up into his eyes as I move my hands over his crotch and speak in a low voice: "I’m going to go with ‘you like it’."
With that, I step away and saunter toward my pool house eager to release some of the tension.