Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
The performance that afternoon was so windy that my skirt was wet almost to the knees with the spray from the waves.
But for some reason I was playing better than ever, as the droplets pelted my face and body.
My flute sung out so beautifully that I saw Chamberlain pointing me out to several of his older friends, and I heard him utter the word Hayden.
For some reason, today the eyes on me didn’t feel good at all.
“What happened to all the Sirens who used to be here a few years ago?” I asked Pippa during one of the breaks.
“Oh, you know, some of them were almost hitting 30,” she said complacently. “Granddaddy said they had to go.”
“Why?” I asked. “Does something about turning 30 make you worse at playing?”
“Oh, Sosie, you’re such an innocent. Let’s just say Grandaddy’s friends prefer a somewhat fresher musician. A woman around your age is just what they like.”
That made me kind of feel sick to my stomach.
“By the way,” Pippa said, laughing artificially. “If I catch you making fun of my husband again, your ass is going to be run out of this town on a rail. Got it, bestie?”
“Got it,” I said.
Just then my phone dinged.
I have information about Granger
Do you want a way to bring him down
Meet me on the stairway in 5 minutes
What the fuck? Who sent this? It had to be Hayden.
I’m all wet
But the response was still
5 minutes
Fuck. I’d just barely be able to meet it. But I couldn’t risk not going. Hopefully Hayden wouldn’t try to cop a feel too.
Tucking the flute into its case and stowing it in the changing room, I hurried down the hall and to the bottom of the grand stairwell, following it up past the priceless artwork and heading up to the top.
“Hello? Hello?”
But no one came out to stop me, so I just kept going higher and higher, floor by floor, each one darker and less crowded.
And finally I was there at the top.
“Hello? Hayden? Where are you?”
Only silence.
And at the last minute, my stupid prey instincts kicked in with a pulse, and I turned to run.
But it was too late.
There were five hard, strong fingers wrapped around my throat, and my body was being dragged back against a very muscular chest.
“Sosie, have you no self-preservation instincts at all? You just go meet whoever the fuck in dark hallways? What the fuck did you think you were doing? There’s no magic secret to escaping me.”
“Then how can I do it?”
“You can’t.”
His arms still around my throat, he knocked the door open behind him, and to my horror I realized we were in Pippa and Granger’s room.
There was evidence of my best friend all over and the whole room smelled like her jasmine perfume, pictures of her and Granger framed everywhere I looked.
In one they had just gotten married on the beach and Pippa looked radiant, effervescent. The sun was in Granger’s eyes and he was squinting against it, but he still looked unbearably tall and gorgeous. Like a movie star.
I struggled against his hold. “Let me go! You really think I’m going to let you fuck me after I heard you fucking her this morning?”
“Yeah, but I don’t love her. I love you.”
“Did you come?”
He bit my exposed shoulder, his big hand coming down over my heaving breasts.
“Every damn time, songbird.”
Then as I squealed in rage, he threw me down on the bed, still fully dressed in my totally wet Sirens gown.
“I’m gonna get the bed all soaked,” I whimpered.
“And?” he snarled, hands on the first button of his jeans.
The window was open, and the breeze carried in the sounds of the party, still in full swing.
Out the corner of my eye, I could even see Pippa herself, her red dress bright as she circulated through the crowd.
“What are you going to tell her when she wonders why the bed is all wet?”
“Nothing. Or I’ll tell her I was lying naked on the bed after a shower. It’ll just turn her on.”
“You’re disgusting!” I yowled. “I don’t want to be a part of this. I don’t want to be the other woman in your weird bitter marriage. Or whatever thing you’re plotting, you asshole gold-digger.”
“Well, you are.”
He pulled up my dress and knocked my thighs wide with one knee.
“Don’t make me do this,” I begged. “I feel so dirty and wrong with you taking me right in her bedroom!”
Somehow I couldn’t look away from the window, Pippa with her pretty dress, and her confident motions.
She moved like someone whose husband loved her and treated her like gold.
But I knew the truth.
His fingers ran down my belly, two parting my wet slit.
“Sweetheart, you like it dirty.”
And my best friend’s husband spit on my pussy, not in a thoughtful way to lube me up, but in a dirty, wrong, dominating way, to show me who was boss, to show me no matter what moral objections I had to cheating, it didn’t matter.
I was going to be the other woman no matter what.
His spit dripped down into my pussy, and he plunged inside me, thick, dominating cock, pounded me down to the cervix, as I was pinned underneath him.
“Look at you, dirty whore, having sex with a married man.”
I blinked back bitter tears of rage, my hand raised to slap him but he captured it easily and pinned my wrist to the bed.
Pippa’s lacy bra was right beside me, the boning digging into my back.
“You want this,” he murmured maliciously in my ear. “You’re fucking choking for it. You always have been.”
“I am not!”
“Yes, you are. I knew it the first moment I saw you. Sweet little fuck-me virgin eyes, big sweet tits, cheeks jiggling right in front of me. Redhead. How could I not take you?”
“You could have been faithful to your fiancée.”
His smirked, his hips dragging my wet ass across the bed.
“Not my style.”
“I hate you! I wish I’d never come back here!”
“And I’m making sure you get what you really want.”
He tipped my chin up, biting down on my throat until I squealed.
“Make noise, songbird. Make some noise in my wife’s bed, you adorable slut.”
“What if she comes in and sees us?”
“Then I’ll say you seduced me, of course.”
“And you claim you love me!”
“I do love you, brat. But I’ll be fucking my wife until I am ready to marry you.”
“I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth!”
“That’s so cute that you think you have a choice.”
He unzipped the front of my dress, burying his face between my tits and licking his way up one breast and swirling his tongue wickedly around my taut nipple.
“Now sing for me. You’ve got the prettiest voice. Much prettier than Pippa.”
And he made me come once, then again, then flipped me on my belly and made me come a third time, his fingers in my asshole and his cock in my pussy, the pillow muffling my screams.
When he was done, I was crimson with shame, and he flipped me on my back and tipped my hips up with rough hands.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure this cum stays in you.”
“Why? What would Pippa say if you got me pregnant?”
“Who says she’s going to know? You walking around with a little belly, could be anyone who knocked this slutty little ass up.”
“I hate you!” I cried, struggling in his arms.
“Matter of fact, why don’t you take a test right now?”
“No!”
“We’ve got plenty of them all around. Of course, Pippa doesn’t know it’s impossible for her.”
He was dragging me into the bathroom even though I didn’t. . . did not want to know. . .
And, of course, when I looked down at the test, the pink was bleeding through, dripping with clarity.
Pregnant
I guess I’d been delusional.
Somehow I’d thought, of course I couldn’t get pregnant the first month.
After all, plenty of people took years to get pregnant.
I’d been throwing myself into flute practice, avoiding Hayden as much as I could, and ignoring everything else.
But Granger wanted me pregnant, so I was pregnant. Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t fucking his wife.
“Good job, Sosie,” he said. “You’re obviously very fertile, looks like it will be no problem to knock you up as much as I want.”
“Now what?”
“Get some rest,” he had the absolute audacity to say. “I’ll see you at dinner—”
But just as he patted my ass and turned me toward the door—the knob turned and Pippa entered the room!