LAUREN

 

“That was quick,” I said when Gabe returned only seconds later, staring at his phone.

He threw me a withering look. “Dad just texted and he wants us to meet him in town for dinner. You cool with that?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, trying to hide my smile. “I’m cool with that,” I said, mimicking his choice of words.

“He said I’d need to change.”

“But he doesn’t even know what you are wearing.”

Gabe’s choice of clothes was a little more formal than his usual attire. He had on nicely fitting jeans which clung to his backside delightfully instead of sagging like his others, and a cobalt blue dress shirt.

“It doesn’t matter,” Gabe replied. “It’s still not good enough. He’s given us half an hour. You know which bedroom we’re staying in, right? I’ll go grab the bags and you start changing. If we’re lucky we might be able to slip in a quickie first. I seriously need to fuck you.” He slapped me on the backside and left in the direction of the portrait hallway.

Our bedroom was decorated in the same colours as the rest of the house. White walls, white ceilings, white accents. It was only the furniture, painted a faded light blue that broke the stark whiteness. An ensuite, also stark white, hid behind a white door. Glancing at my watch, I figured I’d have enough time to quickly rush through the shower. I wanted to look presentable in order to officially meet Gabe’s father. I was also worried about Willa/Billie. I hadn’t seen her in years and, judging from the portrait hanging above the stairs, she had aged a little better than I had. In fact, she barely looked as though she had aged at all.  

I had my head under the water, letting the powerful stream wash away the shampoo when I felt arms snake around my waist and a warm mouth attach itself to my shoulder.

“My god, you look good,” Gabe said as the water poured over us both.

He turned me around and pushed me against the cold tiles which hadn’t had the chance to be warmed by the water. I sucked in a breath as the coldness made my skin prickle and my nipples harden. Gabe looked down and groaned. Ignoring the water which fell over his face, he bent down and gently took my left nipple between his teeth. Another hiss of air escaped and, despite my resistance to his previous advances, my body responded to his, arching and offering more of myself as he rolled my nipple between his teeth, applying just the smallest amount of pain. Gabe, encouraged by my reaction, took more of my breast into his mouth, suckling on the flesh while still stroking my nipple with laps of his tongue, toying and teasing me.

“We’ve got to get ready,” I murmured, my head tilted against the hard tiles, my hands tangling themselves in his hair, belying the words I had just spoken.

“I’ve got to have you,” he said, his voice dark and ragged. His mouth moved down my body, skimming over my stomach until he knelt before me, applying pressure on my thighs with his hands, begging for me to open. Running a single finger down my clit, his eyes darkened in appreciation at the silky wetness he found. His finger trailed lower until he pushed inside me, pulling in and out, one finger, then two, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he concentrated on the task. He withdrew his fingers and pushed my legs further apart, leaning forward until his mouth covered my sex and he started to suck. A lightning bolt of arousal coursed through me and I gripped his hair tighter, pushing his head further into me. Gabe sucked again, milking me with his mouth. The consistency of the single motion almost had me coming right there with his face mashed against me, his hands reaching behind and massaging the flesh of my backside. Suddenly he stopped and I cried out, protesting at his departure so close to release.

Gabe stood and turned me roughly so my front was plastered against the wall, my head turned to the side, my breasts splayed against the now warm tiles. “Don’t be impatient,” he said. “I’m not done with you yet.”

I felt him against my backside, his hardness trailing down the space between my cheeks. I lifted onto my tip toes, arching my back, begging for him to enter me. Then I felt nothing but the warmth of the water, and I turned my head, suddenly annoyed by the spaciousness of the shower, wanting him pressed against me, pressed into me. Gabe leaned against the glass wall, his hand gently stroking the length of his cock as he stared at me hungrily.

“Fuck me,” I whimpered.

Gabe’s cock twitched in his hand and he began stroking himself more urgently. Over the noise of the shower, Gabe’s cell phone began ringing. Ignoring it, he stepped forward, grabbed my hips and pressed himself against my backside. The phone call faded to voicemail. Gabe ran his cock down my crease until he found me wanting and ready and pushed just the tip of himself inside. The phone started ringing again. Gabe slumped and removed himself so he could look through the glass wall to read the display on the phone.

“Fuck,” he cursed.

“Please,” I begged.

“It’s Dad.” Gabe twisted the nozzle on the shower head and held his head under the water. “We’ve got to go.”

“Seriously?” I asked, panting heavily and needing release. My fingers slipped down to myself but Gabe caught my hand before reaching its destination.

“Don’t you even think about it.”

“But I can’t go to dinner like this,” I said, my wrist caught between his fingers.

Gabe stepped forward, his naked and wet body plastered against mine. “Yes, you can. And you’ll think of me the entire time, wondering what I’m going to do to you when we get back.”

A shiver ran through me and I nodded, content to obey his command.

“And remember, I will be right beside you, thinking exactly the same thoughts. Mind you, it’s kind of nice to leave you wanting for a change. Maybe now you’ll understand how I felt that day in the coffee shop.”

“So all this is to punish me?” I teased.

Gabe kissed me. “Just think of it as a promise of what’s yet to come.”

We got out of the shower and changed quickly. Fortunately, I had packed a couple of nice dresses, and I pulled out a black one that clung to my body, but not too tightly, and had a single silver zipper which ran up the back from hem to neckline.

Gabe looked over me appreciatively and walked closer. “Somehow it makes that dress even better knowing what’s under it.”

I had teased Gabe while getting dressed, seductively pulling on black lace underwear. “Enough,” I said, pushing him away. I needed things to cool off a bit before dinner.

Gabe’s hand ran up my thigh, slipping under the material of the dress until his thumb stroked the lace of my underwear. “That might be a little hard while you’re still wet.” He removed his hand and brought his thumb to his mouth, sucking and biting it.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Very much so,” I replied, smirking at his innuendo.

* * *

The restaurant that Gabe’s father had requested we join him at was elegantly decorated and dimly lit by sparsely glowing chandeliers hovering above each table.

Hamish stood as we approached, dominating the room even from a distance. He stretched out his hand and smiled confidently. “You must be Lauren.” He shook my hand firmly, surprise overcoming me at how similar he was to Gabe. It didn’t show in the photos that lined the walls of his home, but in the flesh, there was no denying it. It was in the smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached over and shook Gabe’s hand. “Son,” he said, nodding in acknowledgment, and then turned to the woman sitting beside him. “And this is my beautiful wife, Billie.”

Billie, who had been absently tapping on her phone, looked up, smiled brightly and extended her hand, not a flitter of recognition passing over her features.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she gushed.

I looked over at Gabe and widened my eyes wryly. Billie sat back down and leaned over the table. “You look a little familiar. Have we met?”

I cleared my throat as Gabe pulled out my chair and I sat opposite the woman, trying not to notice her flawless skin or perfectly straightened hair.

“Actually,” I said, picking up the glass of water before me, and trying to block the images of her lying seductively on the bed from flashing through my mind. “We went to school together.”

Billie’s eyes widened. “Oh my goodness! Lauren? You’re that Lauren?” she exclaimed.

“The one and only,” I replied, trying not to mock her tone.

“Hamish!” Billie tapped her husband’s shoulder. “Hamish, Lauren and I went to school together, can you believe it?”

Hamish looked over at his son but Gabe kept his eyes down. “No,” he said tightly. “No, I can’t believe it.”

“Oh, she was such a goody-goody at school.” Billie laughed. “I see you’ve gotten over that now. Look at you with Gabe.” She reached over and shoved Gabe lightly. “Your very own toy-boy.”

I smiled wider as though it would somehow relieve my discomfort. “And look at you,” I said, allowing myself to mimic her tone, although my sarcasm was lost on her. “Your very own sugar daddy.”

Billie tossed her long hair over her shoulder and laughed loudly. “Good to see you’re the same old Lauren.”

“But you’re certainly not the same old Willa,” I replied.

“Argh.” Billie took a sip of wine. “I let that name go years ago, as soon as I got my modelling contract. Willa just didn’t seem right anymore, you know? I wasn’t Willa. I wasn’t Wilhelmina. I was someone new, someone better, so I became Billie. Wilhelmina is the feminine version of William, in case you didn’t know. That’s why I called myself Billie. You know, William, Bill, Wilhelmina, Billie.” She looked at me expectantly, waiting for a reply.

“Yes, I figured.” Gabe’s hand found mine under the table.

Hamish clicked his fingers and a waiter appeared. I was surprised when he ordered for the entire table, not even giving us a chance to look at the menu. Gabe’s jaw-line hardened.

“So,” Billie said, draining the last drops of wine from her glass and waving for a refill to a passing waiter. “Tell me what you’ve been up to for the last few years. Where has life taken you? I guess you’re not with Derek anymore.” She laughed loudly again and a few of the people at the tables surrounding us looked over curiously.

I wondered what they saw. I wondered what they assumed our situation was. A father with three children? Or perhaps, three siblings and their nephew. Hamish didn’t show his age. I shuddered and turned my attention back to Billie who was yet to draw breath.

“Derek was such a handsome man.” She knocked her shoulder into Hamish’s. “I was a little jealous back then, if I’m honest.” Hamish raised one brow and took a sip of his wine. “I was,” she gushed. “Of course, I’m not now. How could I be?” She wrapped her arms around Hamish’s and leaned closer, puckering her lips until he reached over and they pecked each other. “Aren’t we lucky, Lauren? Look at us sitting here with the two most handsome men in the room. And look at you, Gabe, growing up so quickly.”

Gabe smiled tightly and tugged on his shirt as though he suddenly found it stifling. He wore black dress pants and a silver shirt which caught the light of the chandeliers. His hair was loose, but he had gelled it back from his face and it curled at the nape of his neck.

“We’ve got the whole night planned,” Billie continued. “Dinner here, dessert if you want, although—” She reached over and patted my arm knowingly. “As always, we must remember a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.”

I had to stifle my laugh with a drink of water as the words of my mother fell out of her mouth.

“And then we can go back home to the lounge bar, we’ll put a little music on, have a few drinks and oh!” she exclaimed clapping her hands again. “Maybe we can have martinis. Do you like martinis, Lauren? I never used to like them before this man converted me.” She smiled at Hamish. “He makes them like no one else on this planet. You’ll be amazed, Lauren, simply amazed. You’ll be a convert in no time. I just can’t believe you’re really here. That it’s really you. Did you like the house? I hope you found everything okay. I instructed the cleaner to leave fresh towels out for you. I hope she did that. She doesn’t always listen. Were there towels in your ensuite? Did you get the chance to check?”

I had forgotten how much Willa, now Billie, liked the sound of her own voice. She talked non-stop through dinner, only pausing when there was food in her mouth, which wasn’t often. She toyed with her food a lot, moving it around her plate, slicing it into small mouthfuls but very rarely putting any in her mouth. The wine was a different story.