Sianna
“RAY?”
I turned to find Kyra leaning over the bar counter. Kyra Princeton was a beautiful nineteen-year-old with striking gray eyes like her father and light brown hair like her brother. I loved her spunky wit and mischief smile. Her brow creased, she waited for her brother’s attention. We stood in the mini kitchen that catered for the entertainment area. Dinner tonight was a causal set up consisting of a barbeque and drinks—something I didn’t expect from this family’s affluent status. They were beginning to surprise me, the more I got to know them.
Because he left for the city, I’d managed to evade Drake for the better part of two days since he cornered me outside the bathroom the day I arrived. He’d remembered me all right, and if it hadn’t been for Kyra’s appearance, I believed the man would’ve probably kissed me. If that thought hadn’t started my panic attack, then the fact that I was disappointed he hadn’t, left me utterly dumbfounded for my first two nights in his house.
Rayden closed the refrigerator door, set the jug he retrieved on the counter, and looked at his sister. “What’s up?”
“Does Dad seem a bit off to you?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” His brow pinched together in confusion for a second before he continued preparing his take on a strawberry and mint mojito.
Expecting Drake not to pitch for dinner, according to Rayden, the tepid heat I experienced when I walked into the patio, only to discover him playing a game of pool with Rayden, was scorching a flamed path of desire down my body.
“I can’t quite put my finger on it, but he doesn’t seem his usual self.” Kyra’s questioning gaze flicked from him to me and back to her brother. “I mean, he’s usually chirpy during the holidays, but today he’s just so....” she trailed off, turning to stare out the French doors.
I followed her gaze. Drake stood next to his father’s chair, their conversation earnest. I savored the impressive lines of his cream suit and white shirt complemented by tan shoes and a belt the same color. The man defined unrivaled class. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. As if sensing my gaze, he looked up. His expression hesitant before a slow smile spread across his lips, charming at the same time wicked in its invitation to return the gesture.
“He looks fine to me,” Rayden’s soft statement snapped my gaze back to his sister.
“No.” She pouted. “I’m telling you. There’s something off. “It’s almost like he’s not happy.” Sighing, she straightened.
Rayden grinned, slipped a hand around my waist, and drew me tight to his side. “Trust my sister to read just about everything into the smallest of reactions.” He chuckled.
Even though I laughed, I stole a glance at his father and balked. Drake’s gaze rested on Rayden’s arm around my waist. His jaw clenched as he glanced up to meet my eyes.
I forced my gaze back to Kyra. Her lips pressed into a thin line, she scowled at her brother. “If that is the case, why did he cancel our usual coffee meet this morning. He’s never done that before, ever. Even though I left for college, he’s always made an effort to meet me for coffee every Saturday morning,” she explained for my benefit.
His shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug, further annoying his sister before he laced his fingers with mine and grabbed the jug with his free hand. “If you think the old man is off, let’s go get him drunk then.” He winked and pulled me outside. His sister followed us.
While Rayden poured drinks for everyone, I stood to one side, keeping my gaze downcast to avoid Drake’s eyes. I feared what I’d read there if I chanced a glance up. Anger? Hate? Annoyance? My stomach roiled, every nerve on high alert. Despite calming myself that our relationship was nothing more than a one-night stand, I felt awful as though I betrayed Rayden’s love. Although I’d spent the better part of the last two nights convincing myself it had been a mistake, one look at Drake proved otherwise. His touch, his kisses, his smile had stayed with me, adamantly engraved into every part of me and refused to be forgotten. Our night together had been passionate, fulfilling, and incomparable, something I couldn’t call a mistake. Still, I hated myself for not saying something to Rayden since our arrival.
Did that make me a cheat? I’d asked myself that question before tonight, then pacified myself that I hadn’t known Rayden when I slept with Drake. But now that I knew the truth, shouldn’t I have said something?Say what exactly.That his father had fucked me into another realm of consciousness and a part of me still resided there—that he’d made me feel things I’d never felt again after that night? That I’d often fucked myself with a vibrator to memories of his father? It was like Drake had not only taken possession of my body but my soul, the very essence of my being. I had the sudden urge to throw up. Nausea choked my throat.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
The mellow statement broke my train of thought. I looked up then faltered, realizing the others had moved to the table while Drake leaned casually against one of the wooden beams. A hand in his pants pocket, the other around a whiskey glass, he appeared relaxed. The same could not be said for my suddenly tense nerves. His familiar cologne wafted through the air, draping itself around me in an open taunt.
I swallowed and mustered a small smile. “Hi.” I made to move away, but he reached out a hand. It was a whisper of a touch on my arm. The sensation, however, lingered, flipping my pulse into an erratic beat. How could such a small touch be so sizzling? I shifted my arm away quickly. The warmth of a crimson flush stole up to my neck and colored my cheeks.
“We’re going to have to speak sometime,” he said softly. An underlying impatience enclosed his words.
I turned slightly so that we faced the others. Thinking better of it, I sank into a velvety couch behind me and gazed up. He made no move to sit. “What happened between us was, in all honesty, a mistake,” I murmured in dire contradiction to my earlier thoughts. “A beautiful one but a mistake nonetheless—”
“Mistake?” he muttered. The muscles in his forearm flexed as his fingers tightened around the glass. I couldn’t help staring at the defined veins exposed by the rolled-up shirt and suit jacket, nor could I stop the sliver of heat that shot through my body. “Why did you leave that morning without a goodbye?” His tone encased in steel.
I cringed at the coldness, searching his eyes for the tenderness I knew lurked within those gray depths. Only, eyes the color of hard metal stared back at me. “I don’t think this is the right place for this discussion.” I matched his icy façade with a scowl and stood.
“Avoiding me is futile, Sia.” He rolled his tongue around my name as though relishing it and quickly instilling visions of our night together.
I gulped against the memories. “I—”
