Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHAT THE HELL, MAN!
Aldrich
Sorinah was on the edge, her body teetering towards release.
Her walls clenched greedily around Aldrich’s middle finger as he explored the slick heat of her pussy, his touch probing and teasing.
His mouth captured her swollen clit, suckling it with a mix of hunger and care that made her gasp.
He revelled in the breathy, desperate sounds she made just before release—sounds that never failed to drive him wild.
The fruity, musky scent of her arousal filled the air, making him impossibly hard and eager to fill her with his dick.
“DH!” Sorinah’s voice cracked as she tugged frantically at the roots of his hair, her tone laced with raw panic.
It took Aldrich a moment to process—this wasn’t passion or urgency. No, this was fear. Something was terribly wrong.
Then he heard it: the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Someone had entered his house, their heavy, echoing steps on the tiles sending a chill down his spine.
Shit!
Sorinah was sprawled on his couch, one leg draped over the back and the other slung over his shoulder, his head buried between her thighs. The intimacy of the moment shattered into chaos.
“Aldrich,” the intruder’s voice called out, deep and commanding.
A cold dread settled in Aldrich’s gut, his breath hitching as he recognized his brother’s voice.
“Oh, shit—is that Ambrose?” Sorinah hissed, her whisper laced with terror, her body trembling beneath him, the air around them growing heavier.
Time seemed to both stop and rush as Aldrich scrambled to react.
He jerked his head up from between her thighs, his mind reeling with the realisation that there was no way to avoid being caught.
All he could do was hope his brother didn’t get a clear view of Sorinah—a vain hope, given their state.
They were naked, Sorinah’s breasts exposed, the two of them lost in their moment of passion.
Her swimsuit bottom and his trunks had been tossed carelessly over his shoulder earlier when they came inside from swimming in his pool, and her bikini top lay just out of reach on the floor.
Aldrich’s exposed ass was glaringly obvious.
He berated himself for not listening to Sorinah’s earlier suggestion to keep throws in the living room—something to cover up with.
Now, all they had were their own bodies, and Aldrich was desperately trying to figure out how to shield her.
His brother’s footsteps were growing louder, heightening his panic.
So much was happening at once, the tension palpable.
“Oh my God, DH! Get up,” Sorinah hissed angrily, her voice urgent.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Aldrich muttered, knowing any movement would only expose more of her to his brother.
“Why?” she demanded.
There wasn’t time to explain, not with Ambrose’s approach growing louder by the second.
“Mom sent me to drop off some cake from the christening for you. Since you snuck off?— ”
“Don’t take another step,” Aldrich called out.
It was too late.
His brother walked into the room, and the two of them locked eyes before Ambrose instinctively raised a hand to shield his gaze.
“Oh, God! What the hell, man!” Ambrose shrieked, his voice unnaturally high-pitched. In any other situation, Aldrich might have teased him about how shrill he sounded.
Ambrose turned beet red, whirled around on his heels, and fled back towards the front door with hurried, panicked steps that ended in a resounding slam.
“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “I’m going to die.” Her breathing came in ragged, uneven bursts, panic evident in every rasp. “Get up now!”
Free of the immediate threat of exposing her nakedness to his brother, Aldrich scrambled to his feet.
Sorinah, however, moved even faster, leaping off the couch and slapping away his outstretched hand with a huff of irritation.
She darted down the hall like a bolt of lightning, leaving the sharp bang of his bedroom door in her wake.
Aldrich gave her the space to process what had just happened, sensing the weight of the awkward moment.
Thankfully, he found some clean clothes in the laundry room, sparing him the discomfort of pulling on damp swimming trunks.
After slipping into shorts and a t-shirt, he made his way to the front door, then locked it—something he was certain he had done earlier.
Of course, that precaution hadn’t mattered because Ambrose had a key.
Normally, his brother was decent about calling first or, at the very least, ringing the bell before barging in.
Aldrich located the cake container on the credenza, the unwitting source of the day’s chaos, and carried it into the kitchen, setting it on the counter with a resigned sigh. Gathering their swimwear, he started a wash cycle, as if tidying up could somehow restore order to the situation.
Sorinah was still in the room when he returned, her silence a heavy presence. He decided to give her as much time as she needed to process—it was embarrassing, sure, but hardly catastrophic. He wasn’t entirely convinced she’d see it that way, though.
Checking his phone, he found a missed call and a flurry of texts from Ambrose. Naturally, his brother had called and texted before showing up unannounced. Aldrich had been otherwise preoccupied.
Ambrose
WHAT THE FUCK, MAN!?
The all-caps text made Aldrich roll his eyes; the shit was downright disrespectful. He was a grown man.
This doesn’t concern you.
Ambrose
That’s my wife’s baby sister.
The word “baby” rankled him; he wasn’t some opportunist taking advantage of Sorinah.
And she is a grown woman. See my previous message.
Ambrose
Don’t mess her around, she’s family.
Aldrich sighed inwardly, resisting the urge to type something snarky.
You know I hate repeating myself, Ambrose. Mind your business.
He set the phone down, hoping the conversation—and the day—wouldn’t spiral further out of control.
Sorinah had been in Aldrich’s room for over an hour, and when she finally emerged, she found him in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter with a freshly opened Carib in hand.
He took a slow sip of beer, his eyes meeting hers as he wordlessly offered her the bottle.
She accepted it, taking a long, almost defiant swig, her silence heavy with unspoken tension.
She wore the same dress from Anaya’s christening, but her face was bare, stripped of makeup, giving her an air of vulnerability that contrasted with her usual poise.
Aldrich grabbed another bottle for himself, and they leaned against the counter side by side, sipping their beers in comfortable silence.
He waited patiently for Sorinah to break the quiet, sensing she had come out here with something on her mind, something she wanted to share with him.
He knew better than to rush her; she needed time to gather her thoughts, and he was content to let her do it in her own way, even if the tension in the air felt like a balloon slowly inflating beside them.
Sorinah cleared her throat, her voice soft and wavering as she finally spoke. “What do you think the chances are that Ambrose won’t tell my sister?”
He caught the fragile hope in her question but couldn’t offer false comfort. “There’s no chance he’ll keep it from her.”
“Fantastic,” she muttered, her sarcasm laced with weary resignation. “Now my sisters will know.” She drained the last of her beer and thrust the empty bottle towards him with a resigned flick of her wrist.
“Another?” he asked, taking the bottle and finishing his own in a show of solidarity.
She nodded, her shoulders drooping like a deflated balloon.
He returned with two fresh bottles, their clink a brittle sound against the tension between them.
She took one, her hand trembling faintly as she raised it to her lips. A shaky laugh escaped her, more a release of nerves than humour. “Just perfect,” she said, raking her fingers through her short hair with a mix of frustration and disbelief.
“Is it really so terrible that the cat’s out of the bag?” he asked, aiming for levity with a wry smile and bumping her shoulder gently with his.
“Well, yeah,” Sorinah said, taking a slow sip of her beer, her voice casual yet weighted with something unspoken. “I liked that we used to hook up.”
Her phrasing sent a ripple of unease through Aldrich. “I see. Is there a reason you used past tense?”
“Well, we can’t continue with our business on blast,” she replied, her tone shifting to something defensive.
“Why not?” Aldrich pressed, his curiosity sharpening into mild frustration. Her evasiveness was unusual.
“I know my sisters, and they aren’t going to understand our arrangement,” she explained, though the words felt incomplete.
“I’m not getting your meaning,” Aldrich said, his patience thinning. She was being uncharacteristically vague.
Rather than clarifying, Sorinah gestured towards the cake container on the counter. “Is that the cake Ambrose brought over?”
“Yeah. Want some?” Aldrich offered, grateful for the change in subject.
“I can’t say no to cake,” she said, her smile finally genuine as she took a generous sip.
“Does this only work for you if we’re sneaking around?” he asked, sliding her a plate with a slice of cake.
Sorinah chewed thoughtfully, her expression caught between mischief and contemplation. “It makes it more fun,” she said, her smile widening.
“That’s not an answer to my question,” Aldrich pointed out, arching an eyebrow as he fought to keep his irritation in check.
“Come on, DH. Our family knowing we’re hooking up is going to complicate things.”
“Still not an answer, Kitten.”
“It works better if no one else knows but us.” Sorinah put down her plate on the counter.
“Yeah, it worked when they didn’t know, and…”
She avoided his gaze, her shoulders tensing slightly.
He gently pinched her chin. “Look at me, Kitten.”
With a dramatic sigh, she met his eyes, her usual defiance softened by a flicker of vulnerability.
He knew how skittish Sorinah was about labels, so for once, he handled her with kid gloves.
Aldrich brushed her bangs from her forehead, his fingers light against her skin, trying to ease the tension he saw in her eyes.
“Yes, our families knowing about our arrangement changes things,” he said, his tone steady, “but it doesn’t mean it has to be a bad thing or that it makes things worse for us.
Neither of us has a problem speaking our minds. ”
She sighed, leaning into his hand as it cupped her face, and he felt the soft weight of her trust in that slight gesture. It reassured him, even as he knew the complications ahead.
“Yeah, I know.”
He cleared his throat, shifting gears. “We tell everyone we have no explanations to give and to back off.”
Her eyebrow quirked. “This everyone, include your parents?”
“Yes.” He nodded, a flicker of amusement crossing his mind. His parents had long ago learned not to test his boundaries concerning his relationships. It only led to him withdrawing, a tactic that usually worked faster than any argument. “I’ve already got the ball rolling.”
“Have you?”
“My brother texted, and I set him straight,” he admitted, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. He’d made it clear where the line was drawn, and his brother wouldn’t dare cross it again.
“And that’s that?” She shrugged, her skepticism clear. “See, that might work with your brother, but my sisters…” She shook her head, and he could almost hear the unspoken chaos they’d bring. “I’m not that sure.”
He tilted his head, studying her. “You let your sisters push you around?” The question was half-serious, half-teasing, and he watched as her expression shifted from mock offence to a slow, knowing smile.
“Nope.”
“I didn’t think so.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her cheek, savouring the way her breath hitched. When he moved to the sensitive spot below her ear, he felt her shiver, her groan softening into a sigh.
For a moment, he let himself get lost in the way her smile faded into something quieter, more intimate.
“Mars.” Her one-word answer seemed to be all the explanation she felt he needed.
Mars’ well-being was Sorinah’s unwavering priority. Aldrich understood how deeply her son anchored her world; concern for him was the cornerstone of the agreement they had made. If anything—or anyone—threatened to unravel what they had built, it would be her son who tipped the scales.
Over the months, their dynamic had shifted in subtle and unmistakable ways.
Had she even noticed how much they talked?
The endless stream of texts, the exchange of memes that made them snort with laughter in the middle of serious moments.
Their shared commentary during binge-watched shows created a virtual couch session despite the miles between them.
What they had was no longer just some superficial fling—it had grown into something with the weight and warmth of a relationship, even if they stubbornly avoided giving it a name.
What they shared was undeniably special, like a secret language only they spoke, sprinkled with inside jokes and the kind of comfort that made even silence feel companionable.
Added to the mix was the palpable heat between them.
Sorinah was the person with whom Aldrich could be himself. No filters, censoring, or apologies. He understood her, and she understood him. She was never afraid to call him out on his bullshit.
The thought of her ending their arrangement made his heart rate spike.
“Mars is a great kid, and I like him a lot. I would never do anything to hurt him,” he said.
Sorinah closed her eyes, as if shielding herself from the wave of her own emotions. “I know,” she whispered.
“Or you, Kitten. You know that, don’t you?”
As the silence stretched, he realised the question wasn’t rhetorical. He needed to hear her answer. He rubbed her arms gently.
“Don’t you?” he repeated, softly.
Her eyes shot open, and the tenderness and sadness in them hit him like a jolt. “Yes,” she said, her voice growing stronger as her resolve firmed. “But this just got complicated, and I have to consider if we should walk away now. This was supposed to protect my son. Mars comes first.”
“Of course.” He nodded.
That was what he had promised her.
“Give me some time to think things over.”
Aldrich had no choice but to agree, but he had a sinking feeling he wouldn’t like the outcome.