Chapter 9 #3
“If you hurt me, Annie will find these. She knows all my passwords and you better believe she’ll go looking.” My hands are shaking as I hold up the phone to show him what I did. He stalks toward me, hands balled into fists.
“You have no fucking idea what you’re doing.”
“No, I don’t, but I also know you’re up to something. I want to know what it is.”
“You really don’t. Fuck Tallie, I’m trying to keep you out of this for a reason.”
“What’s in that safe? Why do the Sarkissians have it hidden inside a piano?”
“Delete the photos.”
“Tell me what you’re planning.”
“Go back to the party.”
“Stop hiding—“
Brenden cuts me off. He lunges forward, seizing me by the arm.
I jerk sideways and try to pull free, but only manage to kick over a drum and to send a cymbal crashing to the ground.
The noise is incredible and there’s no way someone didn’t hear it.
We stand in stunned silence, his grip iron hard on my arm.
“Do you think—“ I start, but he squeezes to shut me up, his head cocked like he’s a bird waiting for prey.
Footsteps. Several of them, and coming fast.
Brenden moves. He yanks closed the piano lid.
I look around for an escape, but there’s only one door.
If we rush into the hallway, whoever’s coming to check on that sound will find us, and if that happens, we’re doomed.
How can we explain what we’re doing in here?
The Sarkissians will kill us. They don’t care that I’m their cousin. Oh god, I never should’ve come here—
“Follow my lead,” Brenden hisses, pulling me against him roughly. I yelp in surprise. “Do what I do. Don’t fucking panic. You’re okay, Tallie. Do you understand?”
“But I don’t—if they see us—what are you—!?”
He roughly unzips my dress, yanks a strap off my shoulder and pulls the front open, exposing my breasts.
His hand cups my chest, squeezing and kneading, teasing my nipple, his thigh pressed between my legs as he staggers me toward the knocked-over drum set, jamming me against the wall beside the mess of it, and his mouth slams to mine as the footsteps come to a jolting halt.
His kiss sends lightning bolts of pleasure into my core.
The way his hand holds my naked breast makes tingles ride down my spine.
My heart’s racing as his tongue slides into my mouth and I can’t think of anything but how good it felt to have him between my legs and how badly I want him to do it again.
I grind down, whimpering, moaning as I push myself onto his leg, and slide my tongue against his as I kiss him back hungrily.
Someone nearby clears their throat.
Brenden pulls away first. I let out a needy moan. It’s not dignified. None of this is proper. I’m flushed with desire, cheeks bright red, pussy dripping wet.
Two men in black suits stand in the doorway to the music room.
“Hello, gentlemen,” Brenden says smoothly, still holding my tits in his hand. Now he adjusts himself like he’s trying to protect my modesty. “Can we help you with something?”
“Sir, you’re not supposed to be in here.” The first of the two guards steps forward, checks the room for anyone else, before glancing back at his partner. Both of them are smirking.
“I wanted to sing to my new wife and needed a guitar.” Brenden sounds like he actually means it. “But then I forgot about the guitar.”
“Oh my god,” I whisper, mortified, and bury my face in his chest. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t real. It’s close enough. I don’t have to fake the shame that floods me.
The second guard calls an all-clear into a microphone hidden in his cuffs. The first guard waves a hand at us. “Please make yourselves decent and follow us back to the party. These rooms are off limits.”
“I’m sorry about that. Honestly, we were just, well, you know, getting impatient, that’s all.” Brenden’s sheepish smile is so convincing I actually believe that we’re hiding in here because we wanted to have sex so badly.
Once the guards are gone, Brenden lets out a frustrated snarl. “That was fucking close. If they’d gotten here a little faster—“
“Uh, Brenden? Your hand.”
“My what?”
“It’s still on my boobs.”
He looks down and seems thoughtful. “Yes, it is.”
“You can let go now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
He releases me with a visible effort and steps back, still looking at my body. I quickly get myself covered and decent again, adjusting my dress with a shiver of suppressed desire.
“If anyone asks, this was your idea.”
“What the hell?” I stab a hand in the general direction of my wedding. “They’re going to think I’m a sex starved lunatic!”
“Good, that’s what we want. Better they gossip about your libido than wonder why we were in this room instead of any other.”
“Why can’t we make some shit up about you instead? Tell them you can’t get your dick hard without playing Mary Had a Little Lamb first?”
He pats my ass before walking back toward the door. “Because we need this to be believable, my lovely wife. Now, are you coming? I mean, are you following? We’ll do that other thing later tonight.”
His exaggerated wink makes me want to puke.