Under His Domain (9 page)

Dean couldn’t look at him.
 
His eyes searched everywhere, finally
landing on Kennedy’s face.
 
He
stared at her, pleading now.
 
“I
screwed up, right?
 
I know I screwed
up.
 
I can’t ever pay him back for
what he’s done to help me.
 
I’m a
fucking loser.”

Kennedy swallowed.
 
“It’s a hard situation.”

“I don’t want to be a loser.
 
I didn’t ask for this.”

Easton spoke again.
 
“Dean, just go to the fucking GA
meeting. Stop making excuses.”

Dean nodded, his eyes pained and
moist.
 
He sniffed.
 
“Maybe Dad will come with me,” he
laughed.
 

“Dad?” Easton said, sitting back,
alarmed.

Kennedy couldn’t believe the shift in
Easton’s demeanor.
 
He seemed to
have shrunk in his seat.
 
Simultaneously, his shoulders hunched and his lips pulled back in a
grimace.

“Yeah, that was part of why I came over,”
Dean said, scratching his jaw.
 
“Dad’s in town and he
wants
to see us.
 
Well, he specifically said he wants to
see you, bro.”

“I’ll have a burger with him, maybe a
beer,” Easton said.
 
“And that’s
it.”
 
He swiped his hand across the
table in a gesture of finality.

“I don’t know,” Dean said, eyebrows
raising
.
 
“He
wants to spend some real time together.”

“Spend time?
 
Why now?”

“Look don’t shoot the messenger,” Dean
said, hands raised.
 
“All I know is
the old man wants to see you.”

Easton’s brow darkened.
 
“Did you tell him something, Dean?”

“I might’ve mentioned that you got banged
up by DeLuca and his buddies….”

Easton turned his head away and made a
face.
 
“Idiot.”

“I was talking you up, bro.
 
I was saying what you did for me, how
cool it was.
 
I mean, I was saying
good things.”

“You know how I feel about privacy,”
Easton said, shaking his head in disbelief.
 
“Did you also tell him about how you
fucked your business and everything else with your gambling and running
around?”

“Listen, I was saying good things about
you, but Dad got worried.
 
It’s not
my fault.”

“Nothing’s ever your fault, Dean.
 
It’s amazing how that works.
 
You screw shit up and somehow none of it
ever sticks to you.”

“It sticks, bro.
 
It sticks and you won’t let me ever
forget it.”

The two brothers glared at one another,
and in their faces, Kennedy could see all of the years of pain and baggage and
history between them.

She felt
horrible,
it was like watching a car crash in slow motion.
 
Dean stood up and Easton didn’t look at
him anymore.

“Glad you stopped by, Dean.”

“Yeah, a fucking pleasure.”
 
Dean turned to Kennedy.
 
“You’re a nice girl.
 
You might want to think twice about what
you’re getting into with this jerk.
 
He’s loyal but he won’t ever let you forget it.”
 
And then Dean turned and stalked toward
the door.

“You better go to that meeting!” Easton
called after him.

Dean grunted something back at him,
opened the door, walked out and slammed it shut behind him.

The whole house seemed to shake from the
force of it.

Easton let out a relieved little
laugh.
 
“What a dick.”

Kennedy felt uncomfortable, like she’d
just witnessed something too personal for her eyes.
 
“Sorry that happened,” she said softly.

“It’s fine.
 
It’s old hat.”
 
Easton got up and started to pace.
 
“The problem now is what to do about my
dad.”

“Can’t you just visit with him for a
little while?
 
Go out to eat, have a
conversation and then call it a day?”

Of course, she felt a bit hypocritical,
given the fact that she still wasn’t speaking to her own parents.

That’s
because they’re not my real parents, though. It’s different.

But was it any different?
 
Those two people had raised her and she’d
disowned them without so much as an explanation.

Easton stared out the window and the
sunlight glimmered on his hair, making him look like some kind of Trojan
warrior, or perhaps an angel.
 
Something that Michelangelo would have painted or sculpted.

“Deal old Dad,” he murmured.
 
“This will be interesting.”

“So you’ll see him, then?” she asked.

He turned and looked at her.
 
“God help me, I think so.
 
I think he’s going to make me regret it
like he always does.”

Kennedy smiled at him.
 
“We’ll get through it together.”

But as Easton turned to look out the
window again, her smile faded.

She felt scared, a pit opening in her
stomach.

Something was coming and she didn’t know
if they were strong enough to handle it, whatever it was.

***

Kennedy was out of the bathroom after
having taken a long, luxurious bath, and she was getting dressed in a new
outfit.

Easton had taken her shopping—despite
her protestations—to a few of the high-end stores near his
townhouse.
 
He’d put all of the
purchases on his credit card, refusing to even consider for a moment that
Kennedy should pay for anything she’d bought.

As she fixed her skirt, straightened her
blouse and examined herself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom, Kennedy
had to smile.

Even her earrings had been Easton’s
suggestion, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

I
look pretty damn good.

It was kind of amazing what expensive
clothing and accessories could do, when combined with just the right amount of
makeup.
 
Easton’s bathroom was
starting to look like a woman lived with him.

Did he mind?
 
If he did, he hadn’t yet said anything.

She could hear the shower running and
imagined him inside, water pouring down over his naked body.
 
Was it hurting when it hit his wounds?

If she hadn’t already gotten dressed and
made up, Kennedy would have snuck into the shower with him.
 
She already missed his body, missed
feeling his skin against hers,
wanted
to taste
him.
 
Wanted to taste every part of
him.

Her nipples stiffened beneath her new
blouse and she took a deep breath, trying to relax.

They would be meeting his father soon,
and she needed to have her mind focused.
 
Easton had been in a reserved mood, although still kind to her, ever
since Dean had left the house.

Nobody seemed to know exactly when his
father would show up.
 
Apparently he
was in town, and Easton told her that his father had his haunts and could be
any number of places.

When Easton exited the bathroom, he had
the towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else on.
 
He stopped and stared at her.
 
“Holy shit, you look amazing.”
 
His eyes looked her up and down and from
the expression on his face, Kennedy could tell he wasn’t just saying it to be
nice.

“Thanks,” she said, grinning as she fixed
her earring.
 

He approached, looking hungry.
 
“I want to throw you on the bed and take
off all those sexy clothes you just put on.”

“No way,” she said, backing up a
step.
 
“Do you realize how much
effort it takes to look like this?
 
I can’t get messy now.”

“Come on,” he growled, grabbing her hips
and pulling her into him.
 
She could
feel his hard cock pressing through his towel and her skirt, and she started
getting wet instantly.

“Easton,” she breathed.

His lips were on hers, his tongue, and he
was tasting
her and she was tasting him, needing him
all over again.
 
She was powerless
when he touched her and took her for his own.
 

“I want to fuck you,” he murmured,
pulling back and staring into her eyes.
 
“Turn around.”

“Easton—“ she tried to protest.

“Don’t say anything,” he interrupted, using
his hands to effortlessly spin her around and push her towards the smaller
dresser.
 
Her chest and elbows
rested on the top of the dresser, her blouse hanging open now, as Easton pushed
her skirt up and over her hips.

There was a mirror affixed to the
dresser, and she could watch her own reflection, Easton behind her, pulling her
panties to the side as his towel dropped to the floor.

“Oh my God,” she moaned, closing her eyes
for a moment as he inserted himself quickly into her wet pussy.

When she opened her eyes again, he was
inside her, thrusting with a deep groan of satisfaction.

She bit her lip, watching herself and
Easton in the mirror.

Her breasts were swinging as she clutched
the top of the dresser, and Easton’s hands were wrapped around her hips, his
biceps and forearms bulging, face drawn into a concentrated expression as he
fucked her from behind.

It was almost like watching a sexy movie,
except she also was in the movie, feeling the sensations, being with the movie
star.

Easton was gorgeous, his body perfect,
even with the imperfections and scars that he carried from his hard life.

She could see the burns slowly healing on
his forearm, and the bruises on his face, and the moisture glimmering on his
chest from the shower.

His shaft pushed through her folds and
buried itself deep inside, and she felt her entire body clutching him as she
tightened, constricting his path, grabbing him with her walls within.

He moaned, a low, throaty sound—and
she moaned too.

Everything was wet now, gushing, dripping,
and his flat stomach pressed against her buttocks as he fit himself into her,
pushing, thrusting, then sliding out.
 
He began moving faster, slapping at her now as their bodies collided
rhythmically.

Kennedy threw her head back and Easton
grabbed her hair, pulling, forcing her to arch her back as he thrust deeper and
faster into her.

His other hand clutched her breast,
massaging the tender nipple as his teeth clamped down on her earlobe.
 
There was no real pain, just the
pressure of his teeth and the heat of his breath.

“I’m coming,” she told him, and then it
happened—her body combusted, or at least that’s what it seemed like.

She lost herself momentarily in the
ecstasy of his embrace, the sheer force of him inside her, and it was as though
every atom broke apart under the powerful fusion of their love and lust and
need combined.

Her body was pleasure—it was
light—it was dust—it was everything and nothing at once.

It was like she’d been born only to feel
this feeling, something so big that she couldn’t even
name
it.

When she came back to herself, she was
crying out again and again, and Easton was coming, emptying himself into her,
groaning and shuddering as he finished.

It was done.

He laughed, kissing her neck.

“I told you it would take me forever to
get ready again,” she said, pretending to be annoyed with him for making love
to her when she’d only just gotten her look perfected.

“I don’t care,” he sighed, his hands
pressing into her breasts, fingering her nipples, which were still tight and
stiff.

She looked at herself in the mirror and
shook her head.
 
Her hair was
frizzy, except her bangs, which were sweaty and matted to her forehead.

Her makeup had begun running from the
heat and perspiration.

The blouse was askew and damp, and the
skirt was wrinkled and drenched in her juices.
 
“Luckily, you let me buy a few outfits
or I’d be really ticked off right now,” she told him.

He continued nuzzling and kissing her
neck, wrapping her tightly in his strong arms.
 
“I’ll buy you anything and everything,
as long as you promise to keep being like this,” he said.
 
“I’ll give you the world.”