Grayson
My ears pop from the pressure as I drive up the winding mountain and finally reach the estate. It’s a large cabin surrounded by trees and a twenty-foot concrete wall serving as a fence around the property. I always wanted to stay at a place like this– completely closed off to the world. I never had the time and I would certainly never be able to get away from work long enough. With how shitty the past couple of days have been, I need to relax while I can. Once we leave here I’m back to cleaning up the mess Frank made. I still haven’t told Rowan he’s dead. I don’t know how she’ll react and with how comfortable she’s gotten with me recently, it’s best I keep it in my back pocket for now. I open the divider to the back of the van. “Wake up, we’re here.” I toss over my shoulder to mom and Laila.
“This is beautiful.” Rowan says, her eyes widening. The look on her face gives me a sharp pain in my chest. I don’t really know why .
“I need a drink.” My mom yawns.
“It’s nine in the morning, Ma.” I say, shaking my head.
“And my husband was just killed along with my son.” She snaps. I’ll never get used to life without Luciano, I can’t say I blame her. The image of him being bludgeoned to death and dad’s head in a cooler makes me want to drink myself into oblivion.
“I’m sorry Ma. There’s a fully stocked wine cellar in the basement of the cabin.” I choke back tears. I can’t remember the last time I cried. I don’t even know if I ever have since a young age. Losing Pops was like a knife to the heart, but I thought Luciano and I would get through it together. He needed his boy and I wasn’t there to have his back. I’ll never forgive myself for that.
My mom and Laila exit the van, taking all of their bags with them. We didn’t pack much given the fact that we were limited on time.
“The lock code is two seven eight two five, we’ll meet you inside.” I shout to them as they approach the front door to the cabin. Laila and I sit, still cuffed together.
“Are you going to uncuff me so we can get out of the car?” Rowan asks expectantly .
“Nah. I have a better idea.” I lean over and lift her by her hips, setting her in my lap on the driver’s side. I take the hand that's cuffed to her, and unzip my jeans.
“What are you doing ?” She scowls at me.
“The real question is– what are you doing, Row?” I take her cuffed hand, wrapping it around my hard cock. She looks down, her eyes drunk with lust and starts stroking slowly. “That’s what I thought,” I breathe, “keep going.” My free hand grips her ass, pressing her body against mine. Rowan leans down and kisses me hard, pouring all of her pent up tension from earlier into my lips. I slide my hand up her back and into her hair, pulling her head back and parting her plush lips with my tongue.
“Come for me .” She moans into my mouth. Her voice alone almost sends me over the edge. She picks up speed and just when I feel like I’m about to fall apart against her body– she fucking pulls away. Well played.
“How does it feel?” She giggles, holding our cuffed hands behind her back.
“Don’t drive me crazy Rowan,” I tell her, my voice rough with need and frustration. “We have to share a twin bed for two weeks. Tell me how it feels when I tear you open and you’re bleeding on my cock.” I whisper, grazing my teeth on her ear. “Let’s get inside, I need some sleep.”
Rowan and I make our way up the wooden staircase to our bedroom, our wrists still cuffed together. “You never got the chance to tell me how things went with my mom and sister?” I tell her as I take a seat at the edge of the bed.
“I didn’t quite think it was the right time.” She quirks a brow. “It was good, I really like them.” She looks down smiling.
“Laila didn’t give you a hard time?” I ask.
“Not at all actually,” she laughs, “it felt like we’d known each other for years once we got to talking.”
I’m actually shocked at her revelation, It’s rare my sister ever likes anyone. I never brought women to meet my family intentionally, but whenever she did run into one of my flings she made it her mission to make them feel unworthy of me by making passive aggressive comments– or just aggressive comments. I guess it’s an older sibling thing.
“I’m impressed Mrs. Santoro, I thought I was going to be fighting with my sister over this. Especially because we’re married.” I laugh .
“Well don’t create problems where they don’t exist, Mr. Santoro.” She smiles sweetly. “Now can we get these damn handcuffs off? My wrist is killing me.”
“On one condition.” I propose.
“And what would that be?” She attempts to put her hand on her hips.
“You have to listen to me from now on. Obey every order, or it’ll be worse than just handcuffs.” My eyes darken.
“Fine, whatever, just take it off.” She snaps.
I hope she knows what she just agreed to, because nothing is stopping me now.