Chapter 3

“More sugar, my dear?”

“Huh?”

I stared up with some confusion at Mrs Lilian Kay. My mind was still reeling from the onslaught of lust that had been so rudely interrupted.

“As I was saying, my dears, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything too important,” said Lilian Kay, a small, knowing smile playing softly about her lips. “At, em, … your meeting.”

My meeting with Justin Kay. Hmmm… Now, that meeting had gone about most unexpectedly.

“More sugar, my dear?”

I started up in puzzlement and then realised that I still had my hand up, holding the teacup, so I lowered it to my saucer and gave her a beatific smile. At Justin, I refused to look at all.

“Mum, is this really necessary?” Justin sighed in frustration. Things hadn’t been going his way either. I smothered a smile at that and received his heated stare in response. My own swift response must have been on my face for the intensity of his gaze, well, … intensified. I gulped.

“Mum, we really need to go,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off me.

Yes, … need is the apt choice of expression, here.

I could feel myself burning up with the need for him. Surprising really, for all it took was one heated look my way to have me squirming in my seat.

It was really fortunate that Mrs Meredith Kay dropped by when she had. Her interruption couldn’t have been timelier. Justin had just straightened up with me wrapped around him when the door to his office flew open with a flourish, jolting us out of our deeply consuming kisses.

It had taken some effort, but we had managed to re-channel our amorous attentions away from each other to take in the grand entry that was Mrs Kay. She had, of course, been delighted to catch Justin en flagrante. Mrs Kay was always one to enjoy the dramatics. She had appeared quite pleased to see me there. Overly so, as I would have it, leading us to our present conundrum. Tea with Mrs Kay at her place of abode, no less. Normally, I would have been delighted at an impromptu invite to tea. A visit to any residence in McMohans Point was nothing to shy away from, and the Kays had resided there for a good, many generations. Their mansion as such put many other’s to shame—upgraded with due loving care by each of the generations of Kay to reside there, the mansion maintained a modern yet classic feel of old and inherited wealth.

Only in present circumstances, a Q&A session with Justin’s mum was something I could do well without. And then, there was the growing state of frustration that both Justin and I would rather be without. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

I never, ever should have agreed to tea, but like the whirl of a tornado, Mrs Kay had us both bundled in Justin’ s car, following hers with muted disagreeability. Neither of us had wanted to deny Mrs Kay her slightest desire. Where those same large, baby-blue eyes on Justin served to invoke such feelings of pure unadulterated heat. On Mrs Kay, it had all the vile undermining guilelessness that Mrs Kay successfully honed into polished if well-worn weapon. It never missed its mark. And it hadn’t then either.

With each of us down in a silent sulk, we had done her bidding and driven after her to her mansion for tea. It had been the most excruciating drive of my life. For the sulks had quickly worn away to the rising tensions of sitting in such close proximity with the most gorgeous man in the world. My heart had been racing, and my breathing hitched, so I dragged in a much-needed breath of relief when he finally pulled up under Mrs Kay’s condo. I could not live through a ride back; that was for sure. I would have to simply make my excuses after tea and slip out and disappear in the empty streets below. Catch a cab maybe. I was sure if I tried, … tried really hard, I could get the fare reimbursed as an office expense.

Or I could simply change my name and move to another country and make my grand escape, and none would be the wiser.

“So, my dear Aria, what brings you to kissing the life out of my poor Justin?” Mrs Kay’s blunt question had me stuttering then looking helplessly to Justin for an answer.

But I should have known better.

“She was trying to wheedle her way out of admitting that she had knowingly and wilfully made full use of my body five years ago. …”

“That’s not what … I was there for business. … Justin was the one who, … who, …” I found myself trailing off, being unable to finish that line of reasoning. This was getting ridiculous. I glanced balefully at first, one pair of sky blue eyes, then at the other, not at all happy to be cornered by a pair of Kays like this. I shook my head, trying to clear out the cobweb of shocks that seemed to have shrouded my usually adequately functioning brain. There had to be a way out of this somewhere. There had to. If only I could actually think. But torn between the heated intensity of Justin’s wickedly amused gaze and his mother’s shrewd if equally amused ones, and I knew I was done for. The Kays were in league and narrowing in for the kill.

“But this is perfect. It’s simply ideal, Justin,” gushed out Mrs Kay ecstatically. “This is exactly what we are looking for. It’s obvious you two care for each other.” I opened my mouth instantly to deny that charge, but she raised a placating hand, indicating she would not be buying any explanations I had to give. “Oh, you may tell yourself all you wish—that your only intention is to atone for your sins in seducing and taking advantage of my poor boy five years ago—but I know better.”

I couldn’t help but openly sputter at that.

“And then, there’s Justin. I’m sure he wishes to punish you for your presumptions in doing so in the first place. Enjoy it, no doubt, he did. And what better way to achieve both goals than with what I am proposing?” said Mrs Kay gleefully.

Justin seemed to have some inkling of what that was, but I, for one, was entirely clueless. Clueless and confused. Confounded. Was Mrs Kay really deranged, or had she in fact really just said all that she just did? And what was she proposing anyway? I turned my own version of large, puppy dog eyes at Justin in enquiry. Mrs Kay was not the only one who could pull at heart strings if the need so required. At my present, I desperately needed some answers. I had this uneasy feeling that these two Kays were trying to out-manoeuvre me at my own game. Not that I had been playing a game. But perhaps I should.

“You told your mother about us!” I said to Justin accusingly. “You invited her to come to your office when she did, knowing I would be there. You planned this.”

“Not when she did. No, I can’t quite get over her poor choice in timing,” he murmured ruefully before shifting to adjust himself in his seat. I glared right at him. I was not having it—whatever it was. I didn’t get played. Not anymore.

“Now, now,” Mrs Kay intervened placatingly. “Let’s not bicker over who did what and who did not. It’s not as if Justin doesn’t already want to marry you, but now, with the terms of his father’s will to consider, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The terms?” I murmured vaguely, feeling overwhelmingly bombarded with the unexpected.

“Yes, my dear. Justin must marry before he turns thirty, or he has to forfeit his inheritance. I always did tell you your father was not pleased with your philandering ways, Justin. This was really only to be expected.”

I opened my mouth to gape uncomprehendingly at Mrs Kay before turning to assess Justin’ s take on this bizarre statement, but his face was buried in his hands. I paused for a moment, almost feeling sorry for him. It could not have been ideal to have been left with one lunatic parent to deal with. It had been in my experience that you needed a minimum of two such parents to balance each other out. But then, I decided enough was enough.

“I really have to go,” I finally said, having prevaricated long enough, listening to their absurdities. Marriage! I may have wanted to bed her son but marrying had not entered the equation. It was time to make a graceful but swift exit.

“I’ll drop her off,” exclaimed Justin, raising to his feet swiftly as if that were something he simply had to do. Then, before either his mum or I could say another word, I was hefted onto my feet and prompted along out the Kay’s mansion at warp speed.

His car was where he left it, parked out front. Once again, due to the state of mental health at that moment, I failed to notice the make and model of the car. He deposited me in my seat before swiftly moving around to the other side to shut himself in beside me. So, I found myself back in the unfortunate position I had sworn to avoid of sitting beside him in the close confines of his car. Instantly, I was engulfed by the sexual tension that resurfaced with a vengeance.

I was almost visibly trembling in need.

“It may not be such a stupid idea—what my mum is proposing,” Justin said then through clenched teeth, his hands gripping tightly at the steering.

It actually wasn’t. I could’ve even appreciated the diabolical plan at that moment. It was a win-win. I would have undivided, unrestricted, unadulterated access to that incredible piece of … man, and all for the price of one signature on a piece of paper, lawfully turning myself over to him, uniting us both in the eyes of god, for all eternity, with the merest “I do.” Greed sunk its teeth in agonisingly. As far as vices went, greed was the one I unfailingly suffered the most. Greed for food. And now, greed for man. Not just any man, but this one. The very one I had been dreaming of, having wet dreams of, having sleepless nights over and just your average, general craving for.

“Huh?” I prevaricated, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

“Did you even hear a word mother said?” Justin raised a brown in query before chuckling heartily at my reddened face. His husky laugh sent a thrill of pleasure to shoot down my spine.

“I think I may have zoned out as soon as she said I kissed you,” I muttered quietly, not wanting to admit I had heard, understood, and trembled with desire in reaction. Mating, sex, or marriage: any of these words would do to thrill a reaction out of me, but only when used in the context of Justin Kay and me.

“But why? It’s true you did kiss me. Seduce me,” he said huskily, turning to stare intensely into my own lust-startled gaze.

I held myself stiffly to stop myself from jumping him.

“Look, what your mum has been suggesting is bizarre and, well, lunacy. I admit to practically raping you five years back, but let me remind you it takes two to tango,” I said obstinately.

“I was a little drunk, and I can’t exactly recall the whole of it. Tell me what happened,” Justin said, finally putting the car into drive. I didn’t think it safe to tell him the whole of it when he was behind the wheel, holding my life precariously in his hands.

But I guess it was the time I told him a version of it.

“You told me I looked hot. I flirted with you shamelessly. Then, you led me to your room, and I toppled you down to your bed, stripped you bare, and took advantage of your vulnerable state,” I said brutally, creating a stunned silence in the car.

“That was not quite how I remembered that night,” he said finally, throwing me a considering glance sideways.

“Oh?” I said non-committedly.

“Nope. I recall the seduction was mutual. I wanted you as much as you wanted me, and when I took your virginity, you called out my name and told me you loved me. We made love that night several times. I declared you the love of my life and proposed marriage. You accepted, and then, in the morning, I woke up to find myself in bed alone, wondering if I had actually dreamt the whole thing,” he said with quiet seriousness as he moved the car patiently through traffic.

I breathed hard, feeling a familiar stone wedge itself back in the vicinity of my heart. I gulped down the sudden thickness to my throat and found myself even blinking away teary eyes. But then, I hardened my resolution.

“You did,” I said. “Dream it, that is,” I muttered stubbornly, feeling all of the guilt I had been experiencing ever since that night come over me afresh. But it was not just guilt I had felt that night. It had been more. I had said I loved him. I had said I would marry him. I had believed I meant it. Perhaps I did. It would certainly explain my inability to even consider bedding another man. To date anyone else even. It explained why the only man I thought of was him. My eyes prickled, and tears ran down my cheeks. I brushed it aside and drew in a deep breath.

“Are you crying?” Justin asked incredulously.

“N-n-nope,” I sobbed as my guilt and suppressed feelings for him surged out anew in a mixed jumble of pure emotional mess. I recalled that night as clearly as if it had been yesterday. Justin had looked so devastated that next morning when he had come over to confront me and ask if the woman he had slept with the night before had been me. I had callously done what I thought then had been the right thing to do. I was, after all, on the rebound. What I had felt for him couldn’t have been real, could it? He had been drinking and what he thought he had felt for me couldn’t have been real either, or could it?

Now, I wasn’t so sure.

His mum was proposing that we tie the knot—that we get married so that Justin may get hold of the trust his father left him, stipulating he had to marry by thirty in order to receive the money, or it would all go to some charity. Justin had no need for that money, and at twenty-eight, he still had some years to find the girl of his dreams and tie the knot.

There was really no need for me to even consider… “I’ll do it! I’ll marry you,” I found myself blurting that out as an unexpected panic suddenly consumed me at the mere thought of Justin marrying another.

I turned to face him expectantly, only to catch sight of the grim set of his lips, but I refused to retract back those words. All his past girlfriends used to irk me to no end. Just knowing he was out there, … with them, had sent a pang of hurt I had no business feeling. Knowing that what he had said that night—that that proposal of marriage hadn’t been real. But still, it had created a hidden well of expectations. I guess, inwardly, I had always thought him mine. I had only been using Dale as an excuse not to date when, in truth, I had always simply wanted Justin.

And this was my chance to finally have him.

“Let’s discuss this inside, shall we?” Justin said as he moved to unhitch his seat belt and briskly open the door. Justin had fallen silent after my emotional outburst, and the atmosphere in the car had abruptly changed from sweltering heat to a big chill.

“Okay,” I muttered meekly, already regretting my whole day.

I was not happy, and Justin looked a strange shade of grim.

But I had to see this through. It was time I faced my demons and put it to rest. I could use a break from always looking back and wondering what could have been. I was strangely pleased that I had done what was needed. I had declared in no uncertain terms my intent to marry him. It was now judgement time, and I would boldly go to the gallows if that were what he intended.

Justin had brought me to his inner-city based penthouse unit. I guess I was glad he hadn’t opted for his yacht. I was already wobbly enough on my feet without having the unsteady tread of water beneath me. I followed him to the elevator, taking in the elaborately plush foyer, and stepped in beside him all cool and collected. My inner turmoil was hidden from all. Then, the door silently slid shut, enclosing us in the small, confined area. Abruptly, the driving emotions changed again, making a swift U-turn back to sweltering heat.

I held my spine stiffly and tried not to stare at him in the mirrors in front of me. But I felt his eyes trained on my back. I held my breath and was swiftly rewarded by his hand sliding down my spine to rest on my backside. Then, his heavy breathing was moist on the base of my neck, and his lips closed over the spot just as his hand clenched over my ass. I collapsed instantly into his arms, and his free hand was quick to come up around me and cup my swelling breasts. I moaned out loud then cried out for more as his lips shot up to my ear, where he crudely stuck his tongue in and reduced me to a puddle in my panties.

“Oh, sorry, excuse me.”

I looked up into the startled but keenly interested gaze of Mrs Kelly Payton, the famous Women’s Weekly tabloid editor. It would be just my luck to have her bump into us. She was the reason Justin’s handsome visage was often splashed all over the front page of her weekly issues. I guess it should not be at all surprising to find she shared in the block he lived in.

I elbowed Justin behind me insistently, but he seemed reluctant to let go of his strategic grip on me. I wiggled, but he only tightened his hold. The hand on my ass didn’t matter so much for it was behind me, but the hand gripping my boob was obvious to all three of us. I looked up with an ‘are you crazy’ expression on my face. But thenm he spoke.

“I’m sorry. I was just proving to my fiancée here,” he said, pressing his firm rod against my ass, “that my hand can indeed cover her breasts whole.”

I sputtered. My breasts. … Fiancée?

“Well, I take it congratulations are in order, then,” exclaimed Mrs Keele sarcastically. It was obvious she did not believe a word of it. I didn’t either.

“Yes, well, mother will be putting in the announcement in the papers soon,” he said, and then muttered under his breath, “Probably this evening, in fact.”

I gasped, feeling the walls in this already too cramped elevator pressing down on me, but the heavy hand still on my chest was proving restrictive. I subtly pushed at it, but he held firm, so I simply stomped on his foot.

“Ow!”

Unfortunately, Mrs Keele had been watching this exchange with avid interest. My breasts free, I was able to draw in a much-needed deep breath.

“Nice,” Justin remarked casually over my shoulder, watching them heave and then causing them to heave even more in renewed agitation. I wanted to clobber him over the head. Mrs Payton’s handbag was looking to be a most suitable weapon. I couldn’t even remember where I’d left my own. Was it still at Justin’s office? His mum’s place? Or in his car?

“God, this lift is slow,” I blurted out stupidly, unable to take all this scrutiny anymore. Justin’s ogling eyes, I didn’t mind too much, but Mrs Payton’s was damn scary.

“It’s under maintenance, my dear. Didn’t you see the sign on its doors before getting in?” Mrs Payton asked with some amusement just as the door opened, and she stepped out. We followed her out and realised we were all still on the ground floor. I watched as Mrs Payton moved on to the adjacent elevator and stepped in. She pressed the button to hold the door open for us.

I couldn’t do it. I turned to bolt.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Justin said, grinning as he gripped my arm and hauled me in after him.

Not another elevator ride. I turned to scowl at Mrs Payton. “You didn’t have to get into that elevator with us, you know,” I snarled, ignoring Justin’ s grip on my waist.

“And miss all the fun? I’ve never been so entertained in my life,” she said, straight-faced before she burst out laughing.

Then, Justin started to chuckle behind me, and I moved to grind my elbow into his side, but he anticipated my move and dodged me. “You won’t catch me falling for the same tricks twice,” he murmured quietly in my ear. Somehow, I think he referred to more than just my jab into his side earlier.

Then, the door opened, and Mrs Payton stepped out. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” she said before she pealed out another round of laughter.

I maintained my hostile glare ‘til the door closed us in alone, … again.

“Thank God,” Justin muttered before I found myself pinned up against the wall with his lips devouring mine.

His soft lips moulded mine into every imaginable shape. His slick tongue pushed between my lips, wet and slippery, as his played tag with my own. I felt weak, languishing in his arms. The urgency of his initial kisses subsided when my response became as feverish. He had rubbed his hardness against me ‘til I had cried out in anticipation, my panties damp with need. We slowed down to indulge in the sensuality of what we were doing. I felt myself floating away, still wrapped around him, and realised he was actually moving. We had reached his floor.

He shifted my weight in his arms as he fumbled with the door to let us in. Then, we were stumbling in, and again, his lips took on a frantic pace, devouring mine as he turned his head to keep thrusting his tongue into mine, ramming his hip against me. I felt the urgency spike up within me.

“Am I interrupting?”

I felt a snarl build up and rumble out against Justin’s lips. Not again. Would it always be like this? Will our every attempt to fuck get interrupted by some random stranger?

“Cecile? What are you doing here?” asked Justin, looking even more annoyed than I. Not so random after all. I narrowed my eyes at her considerably but then recognising her, having seen her with him before.

“I came to see what was it that was keeping you from returning my calls. Or should I have said who was keeping you?” Cecile replied, staring unashamedly at the hard on Justin was still sporting.

“Get out of my apartment and be sure to leave my keys on your way out,” Justin said with a hard, uncompromising stare.

I felt sorry for Cecile. She had been Justin’s on-again off-again girlfriend over the years, but I guessed she must’ve been used to his rudeness for her to keep coming back for more of the same.

I watched her march out without another word, her jaw tight and her head held high. I saw my future then, when I would be told to walk out that door for the newest flavour of the month. And I knew for certain the mood for getting laid was well and truly over.

“I—” I started to make my excuses to leave, but then, Justin turned around to face me. His zip was undone, and his briefs pulled low, uncovering his hard length. Then, he was moving towards me, his hand cupping his hard on as he pumped it. His lips came down crushingly onto mine. His other hand slid into my hair to hold me firmly, if a little forcefully, to him, and he was walking me backward, toward his room.

I didn’t protest. I would have this off him then disappear again if I had to. I wrapped my arms around him and let him lead me to his bed, where he threw me across it and proceeded to pull aside my clothing. I clawed his clothes away as well; then, my thighs were pushed apart, and he was pushing into me. The delicious sensation of him sliding in had me jerking my hips up to take him all the way in. He growled out his frustrations and started hammering into me. I fisted my hands into his hair and clung on for dear life as he rode me, … rode us both to the heights of pleasure, screaming out my release to join the hoarse cries of his own.

“God! That was, … was, …” I was speechless and too content to think harder of the appropriate adjective to describe what I felt.

“Yep,” was all Justin grunted beside me, and I nodded my head knowingly. I could relate.

We laid there just like that, unmoving for a while, before he moved to shift me closer. He snuck an arm beneath me and tugged me into his embrace. “Just to make sure you don’t run out on me this time.”

How could I after that mind-blowing orgasm? I mean, I may be stupid, but I wasn’t that stupid. So what if down the road, Justin decides to dump me for some young hottie? I would have had my fill of him by then anyway. Hopefully.

“Let’s move in together,” I muttered, tasting his salty neck. He was covered in perspiration, and unfortunately, most of his clothing was still on. “Do you need help with removing that?” I interrupted his response, nodding to his dishevelled clothes.

“Thanks,” he said, so I set about tugging off various articles of clothing. “You downgraded us from engaged to be married to a merely live-in a couple.”

“Look, I’m not stupid enough to leave this,” I said, indicating with a gesture that encompassed us. “We don’t need to be married to fuck. We don’t even know each other that well. We’ve known of each other a long time, but not personally. What if this is all we have, and outside of sex, we can’t stand each other’s guts?” I asked reasonably.

“I can see how that could happen,” he agreed, narrowing his eyes at me pointedly. “But there is that little business of the inheritance I need to be married to claim,” Justin reminded me.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot that,” I said, slumping forward onto his sleek chest. I felt him stir below the waist and slapped his chest with the palm of my hand. I needed recovery time even if he didn’t. This was only the second time I’d fucked—ever. Second, not counting the many times we did it that first time, of course.

“I say we do what Mum wants,” he sighed.

How exciting. Not!

“We get married, and if it doesn’t work, I can always count on you to run out on me,” he said, beaming a wide grin at me.

“Not funny! Are you always going to hold that against me?” I asked, annoyed.

“But of course,” he promptly confirmed.

Slap!

I hit his chest again and felt his cock surge against my entrance. I got wet—well, wetter.