Family Affair by Elle M Thomas
Chapter 5
Declan
I am trying to get away from Christian who has popped in. Although, I know, we both know that’s crap because he never pops anywhere. He is my stepsister’s husband and was Liv’s boss, but was a total knob to her, always had been. However, once she and Mase got together he became worse until my sister-in-law resigned.
“I’ve gone solo,” he says as he follows me through the club I am checking on before I go out for the evening.
“I’d heard,” I reply without explaining that I know Mase bought his shares in the interior design company he once co-owned with my former stepfather and Christian’s father-in-law, Nathan, and together with my brother’s own shares he is gifting them to Olivia making her the majority shareholder.
“Hmm,” Christian says and then begins to look around speculatively. “Have you thought of an update, a revamp for your interior?”
Suddenly the reason for him popping in is clear. He is touting for business.
“Not really,” I reply shortly and hope he will take the hint and sod off.
“I could put some ideas together,” he offers. “And a quote,” he adds, presumably not wanting me to misunderstand his offer as anything other than a business deal.
“Christian,” I say, checking the time that suggests I am now running late. “I really need to go. I have plans, but in terms of a design job, I’m not really thinking about it right now, but if I was, I would be inclined to go to Liv first.”
He looks genuinely shocked that she would be my first port of call, but she would as she is seriously talented and to the best of my knowledge Christian hasn’t designed for several years. I am thankful that Mase is nowhere within earshot when he continues to run his mouth.
“Why? Because she has managed to fuck her way into your brother’s bed? That he has set her up in my business because she knows her way around the male anatomy? She was my fucking receptionist and don’t think Mase was the first man she tried to use to advance her career,” he accuses, and I am tempted to hit him myself.
Mase wouldn’t hesitate and Christian deserves to be punched for his whole attitude towards Liv, but right now I have the other Carrington sister on my mind.
“Christian, don’t be such a dick. If, when I decide to go for a design job, I will go to Liv first, but for no reason other than the fact that I like her work and she understands the name, brand, and ideas I want to use here. You really do need to stop this hating on Liv shit though because if you don’t you are going to burn a lot of bridges and if Mase hears you talk about her that way he will fucking flip and he may not hold any interest in your business anymore, but you know he could make your life very difficult,” I warn him. “And you are putting your wife and kids in the middle of this.”
“Women like her…” is as far as he gets when I interrupt him.
“For fuck’s sake, Christian! Women like her! She is Mase’s wife. She should have been and will be in the future the mother to his children. You are barely related, buddy, so if I was you, I would shut the fuck up and back off.”
He winces at my comments but recovers quickly enough that he turns back to his near obsession with hating Liv. “Was our absence noted at the wedding? I did call Mase, it was last minute though,” he sneers.
“Oh right, yeah, you didn’t make it, did you?” I say as if I had only just realised. “Christian, I really have to go, but think about what I’ve said if only for Imelda and the kids.”
I am already leaving the club and Christian follows me out onto the street, but I now feel agitated and antsy after defending my brother’s wife. This is why relationships are not worth it, they need commitment to love, support and defend, which is fine except the way I do things I can still support and defend, with sex rather than love but the expectation for it isn’t there. Hopefully, Anita and I can get on the same page because right now she might be the only thing that can restore my equilibrium.
~~~
Anita and I exchanged numbers the morning after the wedding. I was a little disappointed that she wouldn’t come back to my room with me, but then I can see why that would have been a bad idea with her room being next to her parents and mine being next to Sara and Jed’s. Mase’s words about no more sex until deciding what I was going to do as far as Anita was concerned also rang in my ears and I know he was right. With hindsight it was probably for the best because it was hard enough to get through breakfast with Anita opposite me without her having shared my bed, plus Liv also warned me off. After she and Mase had finished their shagging to music routine or dancing as they call it, she essentially told me that her sister deserved far better than a man whore to mess her around so to think very carefully about my next move. She had then kissed me rather than punched me, so I think she approves if I don’t fuck it up.
I sigh loudly as I consider my own thoughts about not fucking up because that would suggest I want more than the usual fuck buddy I go for, but what does Anita want? I suppose I will find out soon enough I realise as I pull up outside the restaurant where we have agreed to meet.
I enter the restaurant and nervously adjust the tie I’m wearing which is something of a novelty. I don’t really do shirts and ties unless I must and tonight, I think I do. I want to do it right. For everything to be right for Anita who has just arrived herself. I can feel her presence before I turn and find her looking perfect in a royal blue off the shoulder lace dress. I am staring at her, powerless to speak as I fully take her in; the hollowed out effect that leaves her neck, collar bone and shoulders all on show. I am on my second or third rake of her body and allow a small smile to curl my lips at her sexy little legs that are bare from the mid-thigh down and her sexy little feet that are strapped into sparkly blue, heeled sandals. My eyes roam back up over her full hips, nipped in waist and lace covered chest that is heaving in what I think are nervous and anticipatory breaths. Even her arms are sexy, encased in yet more lace. Fuck she is gorgeous and standing there with her hair curled and cascading loosely down her back while she casually licks her pouting glossed lips all I can think about is fucking her and making her scream my name or calling me stud. She really is the image of redemption and sin rolled up in one perfectly beautiful package.
Anita smiles and then laughs with a flush to her cheeks as she speaks, and I realise that the maître d’ has appeared and probably already spoken to me.
“We have a table booked,” she explains and with me back in the room I take over.
“Yes, a reservation, Harding, Declan Harding.” I am praying to everything I hold dear that they haven’t lost my reservation.
The maître d’ smiles, a little too much in Anita’s direction and as I consider setting him straight, he is leading us to our table which is situated towards the back of the restaurant where we sit opposite each other. I feel my own tension and can see her anxiety in her breathing and nervous nibbling of her lip. I am reminded of her having done that when she attempted to control the excitement and sound of her release when we had sex, both times. With the combination of how fucking hot she looks and my own thoughts of her lip biting I am stiffening in my pants and really need to get my mind out of her pants or we are going to end up shagging again with no chance of conversation. I think she senses my thoughts and concerns because she turns conversation to safe, non-sexual conversation, Mase and Liv.
“Dad said Liv and Mase had arrived safely.”
“Yeah, he sent that message to our mum,” I confirm, knowing full well that Mase refused to allow Liv to take her phone with her on honeymoon, but he did take one for emergencies that he had no intention of turning on once they arrived safely on the very small, secluded and exclusive little island he has taken his wife to.
“I have no clue where they’ve gone,” Anita says, and I nod.
“Nobody does, not really, except our dad. Mase wanted them off the radar unless there was an emergency.”
Again, she nods, and a strand of her hair falls across her face. She pushes it back slowly and I am back in that place where all I can think of is her and me naked and sweaty. The waiter appears as if on cue to get us out of each other and back on conversation. He leaves us with menus and that passes some time allowing me to calm down a little.
This is one of the reasons I prefer meaningless sexual relationships, because of the pretence a real girlfriend requires. When you both know and agree that sex is what you want and need it’s easy, no strings fun. You shag, you shag some more, maybe even share the odd meal or night out but you both still know that the real point is the end of the night, the sex and afterwards whoever isn’t home gets up and leaves. Easy, or it would be if Anita wasn’t my brother’s sister-in-law. That is the only reason I am thinking I might need to offer her more, isn’t it?
Anita
We are sitting and staring at each other and have been for a while. We’ve eaten in relative silence and it’s not a comfortable silence we’ve shared. I am desperately trying to think of something to say to break the heavy, awkward atmosphere between us. Unfortunately, I watch Dec for a few seconds longer and it’s enough time for us to lock eyes and the atmosphere between us charges in an instant, meaning I need to speak, to say something before I end up sprawled across the table with no thought for our fellow diners.
“How’s work, the club?” That is what I come up with as a safe topic of conversation.
His eyes darken and then he responds. “Good, work, the club, although the kitchen holds extra special memories that make it distracting to be in there,” he replies and we’re back there again. “Sorry,” he says in response to the long sigh I release.
“No, don’t be. We have a serious elephant in the room, Dec, so maybe we should address it,” I say in one huge breath, knowing that if I don’t get the words out, I am going to chicken out and still end up sprawled across the table.
“What do you want? From me?” he asks me with a huge sigh of his own as he rubs a finger across the bridge of his nose. Unfortunately, he doesn’t give me a chance to speak, he simply continues himself. “I am not Mase. I am not looking for a happy ever after and kids and stuff. I like fun and uncomplicated.”
“I see,” I reply, unsure what to say because I don’t really think that I am in a position to want the things he claims not to. He doesn’t want them, and I don’t deserve them.
“Look, Anita, I like you, I think that’s pretty clear to us both and I would like nothing more than for us to leave here together, but I don’t want to mislead you on who and what I am.”
“Man whore,” I say with a small grin tugging the corners of my mouth.
“Is that courtesy of your sister?” he asks with a small grin of his own but makes no attempt to deny it which is disappointing and reassuring at the same time.
The waiter returns to clear our plates and we both decline dessert, eager to be left alone once more to resume the conversation we’d been avoiding up until a few minutes ago.
“We could go and discuss this more, decide what the hell we want to do,” Dec suggests, and I nod, not that I know what I want or what I will accept in terms of a way forward from this awkwardness interspersed with hot sex. “Where do you live?” he asks and I realise he means going somewhere private, secluded. Somewhere with a bed, although we’ve never had a bed before, so anywhere with kitchen counters or walls is a high-risk location.
“At home, with my parents,” I admit and feel a little embarrassed that at almost twenty-four I still occupy a single bed in my parent’s box room. “But maybe somewhere private isn’t a good idea.”
“Maybe not. So, what do you want Anita, from me, us?” he asks again, without any invitation to move on now.
“Not a clue, but I like you.”
“I like you, too.” His grin broadens. “Come on.” He’s already reaching for my hand as he stands. Clearly, we’re moving on.
He throws down some cash onto the table and then we are on our way out, me trailing behind, smiling appreciatively at the sight of his glorious behind that is encased in quite tightly fitting suit trousers. My eyes lift to see the rippling muscles of his back showing through his white shirt.
“Dec, your jacket,” I say with a giggle as he spins round and dashes back to retrieve it from the back of his chair.
“See, you are sending me crazy,” he tells me as he returns, throwing his suit jacket back on before grabbing my hand again. “We can go back to mine,” he says once we exit onto the street. “I assume your parents wouldn’t thank me for coming into their home, defiling their daughter only to leave under the cover of night.”
I laugh and shake my head as I imagine my dad’s face at the reality of me having sex.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He grins leading me to his car that is parked nearby. “Are we doing this?” He pushes me back against his car, his body holding me firmly in place as his lips graze mine making me needy and desperate for more.
“I’m still not sure what we’re doing,” I reply, because I have no idea what we’re embarking on or what I am agreeing to.
“This, us,” he says with a small frown as he gazes down at me, his fingers lifting my chin so I am gazing up into his eyes. “I think we both know it’s confusing and may go horribly wrong, but I can’t get you out of my head, Cupcake.”
My smile is beaming at his use of Cupcake, and he smiles back in response to my reaction to it.
“So, we’ll keep it low key, casual.”
I nod at his low key but am unsure what he considers to be casual.
“Play it by ear.”
Again, I nod, but manage to interject something. “And talk, can we talk about things as we go?”
“Of course,” he agrees. “Did you drive?” he asks looking around.
“Yeah, I’m on the car park around the corner.”
“I’ll drive you round to get it,” he tells me more than offers.
“Or I could leave it. It’s a secure place. I can collect it in the morning.”
Dec looks confused and is frowning that confusion before he asks, “But how will you get home? It’s likely to be the early hours when you need to leave and taxi—”
“What the fuck?” I screech, startling a rather loved up looking couple who are passing by. “You expect me to come back with you, shag you and then leave, in the middle of the night?”
He looks startled by my outburst or at least the meaning behind my words.
“Is this your idea of us? Low key and casual means a fuck buddy?” I ask, slightly stunned.
“I thought this is what we agreed,” he says and honestly, I want to punch him for thinking that is what we’ve agreed to. What I’ve agreed to. “Although I wouldn’t have said fuck buddy.”
The guilty expression on Dec’s face would disagree that he wouldn’t have called us fuck buddies. I do not want to be a notch on his bedpost, on anyone’s bedpost. I have misjudged men in the past and made mistakes, of colossal proportions but no more. No matter how good a shag he might be because experience has taught me that I only get hurt in those situations, hurt, and left to deal with the fallout.
“I did think we might be exclusive though, unless you’d rather not and then I would just request the courtesy of you telling me and vigilance with protection.”
I am agog at his arrogance, stupidity, call it what you will. I have essentially just protested at being sent home in the early hours as a fuck buddy and he is still discussing details, specifically the details of being free to shag other people but without the inconvenience of picking up an STD.
“Un-fucking-believable! You fuck who you want, Dec, I don’t care. No matter how good sex with you is, as amazing as it makes me feel, nobody has ever made me feel quite as cheap and worthless as you and I have known worthlessness and cheap, so no, no us, no deal. Goodbye,” and then I slap his face, hard. Determined not to cry until I get to the privacy of my car. I knew that I would break once I reached the security of my single bed in my parent’s box room.