Conklin's Foundation (Conklin's Trilogy) (22 page)

“I’m sorry,” Tyler
apologized with his eyes on the ground as we entered the kitchen. 

“For what?” I asked, raising a brow.

Tyler shuffled his feet uncomfortably, not meeting my eyes.  “My parents.  They fight no matter who is in the room.”

I cocked my head, my hard exterior from the wardrobe incident melting away even more.  Tyler looking vulnerable and embarrassed was hard to come by, and I was wrapping my arms around him within seconds.

“They started early,” Nathan sighed, taking a bottle of dark liquid out of a cabinet.  “Ah, Mom always stashes the good stuff.” Nathan grabbed a tumbler and poured the liquor nearly to the top.  “Want some, Tyler?”

Tyler shook his head no
, relaxing his shoulders as I hugged him.  I felt him inhale a deep breath of my hair as though he wasn’t as nervous about my mood from earlier. 

My heart broke.  Was this what his family life
was like whenever RJ was home, RJ and Mary constantly reliving their past?  Fighting and bickering as though their boys weren’t even in the room?

“They do always go at each other’s throats,” Mitch
added, taking a bottle of beer from the fridge.  “But Dad says she is always an animal in bed afterwards,” Mitch smirked.

“
Gross
,” Nathan exaggerated.

“How the hell can you talk about that with RJ?  Doesn’t it creep you out?”  Tyler said, keeping his arms around me while scowling at Mitch.

Mitch shrugged his shoulders.  “Better to hear him talk about her then some other chick,” he said truthfully.  Gloominess filled the air.  Each of Tyler’s brother’s faces fell with the thought of RJ not being faithful.

Tyler’s chest rose up and down
as though he was having a protective moment for his mother.  I know he talked like he could care less about Mary, but his energy proved different.  He was worried about her and showed sympathy.  If Tyler could take his mother out of RJ’s grasp, he would do it in a heartbeat, no matter what his hard exterior might portray.

“Are they always like this?”  I
asked snuggling my head on Tyler’s chest.

Nathan and Mitch shrugged their shoulders.  “
Yeah, we’re used to it.”

“I don’t ever remember them not fighting,” Mitch said, taking a swig of his drink.

I felt for these boys.  Sure, they had everything money could buy, but living in a house where their parents didn’t get along had to have been torture, even if RJ was rarely around.

The heaviness was still in the air as three women in aprons ent
ered the kitchen carrying a variety of bags and casserole dishes.  The women quickly set to work, moving around the kitchen as if they had lived there their whole lives.  None of them said anything, but worked silently, beginning to prepare the Conklin Christmas meal.  The help was a welcome distraction.

“Come on, let me show you around,” Tyler said stiffly, taking my hand and leading me down one of the tall hallways.  Nathan and Mitch wa
ndered to another hallway leaving the busy kitchen. 

Talk about an ostentatious house.  The hallways never seemed to stop as Tyler led me through
the high ceilings and fancy stucco walls covered in expensive and modern art.  There was a room for
everything.

“Are you taking me to your lair?”  I teased, trying to lighten his mood.  I thought my voice might echo from how long the hallway was.

He turned back, the corner of his mouth twitching as though he was trying to suppress a smile.  “I was going to show you my old hangouts.”

Once we reached the end of the hall
, Tyler opened up a door to reveal a large room with two suite doors on each end.  The middle of the room was focused on a gigantic television with all kinds of gadgets and speakers hanging around it.  A large, black leather sofa was placed directly in front of the television then another was elevated behind the first as though it were theater seating.  The walls were a warm red, with numerous framed posters of athletes, bands, and movies, covering the walls evenly.  A kitchenette was off to the side with a soda fountain and popcorn machine.  A huge fridge and a microwave took pride amongst the black cabinets and counters.

“This was our lair, as you called it, when we were young
.  My room is past that door,” Tyler pointed.

I licked my lips and squeezed his hand tighter.  “Are you going to show me?”

His cocky grin appeared as he pulled me forward.

His room looked just as I imagined it would.  A queen bed with a black bedspread was tiny in the large room.  White walls and white carpet.  A bean bag chair
with a baseball patterned fabric cover was in the corner.  A large black desk spanned the entire far wall where the sun shone through a ceiling high window.  A black guitar was hanging on the wall.

“Do you play?”  I asked, nodding my head to the guitar.

He smiled and shook his head no, walking over to the guitar.  “It’s signed by Jerry Horton.”

I looked at him quizzically.

“The guitarist from Papa Roach.”

I nodded my head.  I never pictured him as a rocker.  I went through a Papa Roach phase myself.

“What?” he asked, eyes full of amusement.

“I neve
r pictured you as a rock fan,” I said, exploring the rest of his room.  A picture poster of Wrigley Field was above his bed.

“Oh yeah?  What type would you picture me as?”

I shrugged my shoulders and smirked.  “A Michael Buble’ fan.” 

When he didn’t say anything, I turned my head over my shoulder, giving him a devious grin.  He cocked his head, his eyes filled with humor, but then turned darker, hungrier. I took in a deep breath as he stalked over to me, his shoulders broad with his head still cocked slightly to the side. 

I tore my eyes from his, pretending to look at his desk.  His energy was pulling me, making me hotter with every step he took towards me. 

I felt him standing behind me. 
He moved my hair to one shoulder, his breath hot on my neck.  Pressing his lips to my neck he murmured, “Is there something wrong with Michael Buble’?”

A chill spread across the nape of my neck to my shoulders as his tongue lazily escaped his mouth, wetting my neck, followed by his warm breath and a gentle suck.

“No,” I half groaned. 

He moved his hands to my hips, “Good, because I’m going to play one of his songs for you tonight,” he murmured.  His mouth trailed kisses up my neck to my ear. 
“Although I am still a little irritated by your stunt with this dress.  And these curls…”  He trailed one hand up my arm to gently grasp a handful of hair causing a slight moan to escape my mouth.

“I’m a little irritated with your stunt of telling me everyone would be wearing jeans,” I whimpered, meaning to sound annoyed but instead sounding very distracted by his warm breath in my ear.

“I’m wearing jeans, and so is Mitch.  Please don’t be mad.”  He traced his
fingertips from my hair back down my arm, giving me goose bumps.

“I can wear what I want,” I sighed, tilting my head to the side, hoping he would move his mouth to my neck.

I heard him grin.  “That you can.  Doesn’t mean I won’t do everything in my power to block people’s views.  As far as I’m concerned, this should be for my eyes only,” his tone was harsh as his hands traveled down my sides to my hips.

“You’re the only one with permission to stare,” I gasped as his hands moved to my thighs, pulling up my dress.  His hands moved to my behind and he started to gently caress my skin.

I took in a sharp breath as his hands skimmed under the delicate black lace of my panties. 

He groaned and dug his fingertips into my skin.
  “I didn’t know you were wearing these.  You did this on purpose to drive me wild, didn’t you?”

I let out a low giggle, rolling my head back when his lips finally touched my neck. 

“You sure know how to get me all worked up, in all ways,” he grumbled in between kisses.

“Don’t be so ridiculous and I won’t feel the need to retaliate,” I said, reaching my hands back to tug on his hair.

He pulled his head back and groaned, reaching for my wrists and turning me around so we were facing each other.  I was breathing heavy with my head tilted up, mouth gaped open and thighs twitching from his slow assault on me from behind.

“I’ve never had a girl in here before,” he whispered, his hand
s gripping me tighter and lower, finding my backside underneath my dress again.

“No?”  I gulped.

He slowly shook his head, his nose rubbing against mine.

My blood was racing as I practically panted at the feel of his breath on my
lips.  How could he do this to me in a matter of seconds?

He boldly slid
both of his hands underneath my panties, giving me hard, opened mouth kisses.  His feet swiftly started to move, gently pushing me, refusing to take his lips off mine.  His hands were burning into my skin, my dress hiked up over my hips.

I
was stuck in Tyler’s lustful spell.  Just before the back of my knees hit the bed, Tyler stopped kissing me, his eyes blazing.  His chest was heaving, blood pumping, and beating loudly through his veins.

He lifted my
left leg to hitch around his hip as he tackled me onto his childhood bed.  The second he landed on top of me, his erection dug into me, my hips greedily thrusting up into him.  The friction of his jeans against my black lace weren’t enough, and his ever ability to light my fire was heating up the room.

Tyler’s mouth found mine, his hand pulling
down the small sleeve of my dress, attempting to expose my skin. I moaned when his hand slithered its way under my bra, searching and finding what he was looking for.

He grunted into my mouth while moving his hips into me, tugging on my skin and nipping at my lower lip. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I gasped with a shaky breath, tugging his shirt free from his jeans.  I ran my hands along his skin, embracing the hardness of his abdomen.  My hands deftly found his buttons, undoing them from the bottom.  Tyler groaned into my mouth, his kisses becoming slower and teasing, his tongue tracing the inside of my lips.

“I should say the same to you,” he grinned as I found his top and final button.  Before pulling his sleeves from his arms, I ran my hands
along his back between the fabric and his skin, pulling him down so his taut and smooth stomach was pressed against me.  I wanted my dress completely off and wished it weren’t tailored so snug to my hips so it would be easier to pull up so our skin could be touching.

Here we were
in Tyler’s childhood room, tangled breaths with our clothes tugged to the sides as though he had brought me home after school for a necking session. 

He ground his hips harder into my sex, causing me to gasp louder into his mouth
, my heel digging into his backside.  I wanted him now, and I didn’t care where we were or who could be lurking in this overly large mansion.

I pushed my hands down Tyler’s
back and into his jeans, squeezing his butt and pulling him into me harder, showing him the movement I wanted.

Out of nowhere, Tyler jerked as a shiny packet deflected off his head into my shoulder, followed by snickering.

“I know Mom expects grand babies, but you should really wrap it up.”  My face turned beet red as Tyler speedily pulled up my sleeve to cover my breast, unhitching my leg from his thigh.  We both were tugging down my dress so it was rightfully just above my knees.  Grabbing a pillow, he chucked it at Mitch.  I was horrified.  Here I was, grunting and groaning, shamelessly grabbing Tyler’s ass under his jeans while his brother was watching for God knows how long.

Batting
the condom off my shoulder, I sat up with lightning speed, running my hands through my hair while straightening my dress further.  Tyler sat up with me as well, putting a protective arm around my stomach as I turned my crimson face into his shoulder.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, haven’t you heard of knocking?”  Tyler shouted at his brother.

  Mitch laughed.  “It’s only necessary to knock if the door is closed, dumbass.  Now button up your pretty shirt and bring your abs of steel out here and play me in Madden.”

Tyler grumbled, watching Mitch turn to sit on the black leather couch in full view from his bedroom door.  Tyler turned to look at me apologetically.

I gave him an awkward smile.  “At least I wasn’t dress-less and riding you.”

He gaped at me, as though he
wasn’t expecting to hear me say such a thing.  “I suppose you are right,” he chuckled, looking into his lap.  “I’m sorry.  We could lock the door,” he flirted, moving in to give me a kiss.

I sat up straight
er, returning his kiss chastely. “Go play your video game.  I would be paranoid Mitch would be listening through the door.”

Smirking, he stood up and started to button his shirt.  I
fussed with my curls, trying to fix where Tyler’s fists were tangled tightly.  I gulped, remembering how he gently pulled on my hair.