Fated Love (The Soul Sisters Series Book 3) Page 12

  I let go of her wrists and pick her up, her dress is so short, that she has no option but to let it ruck up around her hips as she wraps her legs around me. Spying that I’m not far from my truck, I stride back towards it and carry on kissing her like I need it to survive. The jiggling of her ass against my cock is driving me insane and I’m fairly sure this isn’t going to be the love story scene she’s expecting I’m like a coiled spring.

  Yeah, she knows, she’s squirming on top of me trying to get some release and the animal inside her is tearing at my hair like it can’t decide whether to fight me off or pull me in closer.

  With one hand I open the back door and lay her down. I can see her now, the panties she’s wearing aren’t worth bothering with and I’m hoping like fuck they’re wet.

  My inner animal takes over immediately and I reach out for them, shit, they’re fucking drenched. The monster wants out. I rip the scrap of material off her and throw it somewhere behind me.

  “Are you sure about this? If I start Lottie, I’m gonna be fucking raging if you put the brakes on.”

  “I’m sure. Fuck me,” shit, is it wrong that I find this side of her, Lottie’s dirty mouth a huge turn on?

  “How do you want it? I don’t think this is going to be gentle,” I warn her starting to tease her lower body.

  “I said fuck Oli, I wasn’t asking for a courtship and a promise ring,” she teases.

  That was all I needed, I was at the very edge of my control. I grab her ass cheeks and pull her towards the edge of my truck’s seat. Quick as a flash, I undo my belt and zipper and lower my jeans so that my dick is free to get involved. A quick swipe of her pussy confirms she’s definitely wet enough, so I get her in the right position and launch myself into her.

  Lottie screams and thrashes around shouting, “Oh my God, Yes,” and that’s enough for me to proceed without caution. Getting her in the best position possible, legs spread wide, flush up against me and completely devouring my cock, I pull back and punch forward with brutality.

  She feels amazing, tight as fuck and vibrating with lust.

  Shit, I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep going... and now I’m stressing like a fucking teenager getting his rocks off for the first time. Head in the game Hart, head in the fucking game. Although my other head is enjoying it so much, it’s demanding that I increase speed and power. Shit, I’m going to cum before her. The groans and noises she’s making are going to unman me. I bring a thumb round to assist with my efforts and once it hits its desired target, I begin to rub and pinch that nub of sensitive flesh savagely.

  “Oh, oh, yes, fuck. More. Do that more,” she wails.

  “Come on Lottie, let me have it, let me feel you cum,” I demand of her in return and my words are enough to set the chain reaction in motion. She starts to claw at the seat of the car as I feel her insides start to contract and squeeze me, then her orgasm hits home and takes control.

  That’s enough for me and after a final surge forward with my cock, I feel my balls draw up, my spine tingle and my body’s essence leave me in what is definitely going to be a game changing hook up.

  I’m in trouble.

  I’m in real fucking trouble.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Every time I closed my eyes last night I tried to fight my stupid brain playing it back, over and over again.

  It was unbelievable.

  Everything I always dreamed having sex with Oli Hart would be.

  Totally. Amazing.

  I’m trying to tell myself that it’s because my cooch has been on an anti-men protest, but it wasn’t. It was because we fit together like building blocks, like human tetris. Like two pieces of the same puzzle.

  His carnal need to dominate and my desire to be dominated.

  I wasn’t princess Charlotte Groves who deserved flowers and a courtship. I was Lottie in leather who needed to feel her body be set free and used in wild abandon to make it really come alive.

  That ecstasy and joy I felt was short lived, until the awkward aftermath.

  His awkward withdrawal and panic stricken face at having gone there with me. My awkward attempt to clean up and climb gracefully off the backseat of a truck without begging for round two. Both of us awkwardly attempt to pass it off as insignificant.

  All around awkward.

  I couldn’t look him in the eye, Oli assumed I was feeling ashamed and regretful. In truth, I was feeling the opposite.

  I LOVED EVERY FUCKING MINUTE OF IT. The raw grunt and debasing of being fucked senseless and the fact that it was by Oli was just epic.

  It felt epic until I had to intervene during his constant attempts to apologize. Clearly he regrets it because you usually only apologize if you regret something or have made a mistake and got something wrong. I thought I’d stopped being that idiot from the past where he is concerned, but clearly the princess from the past is still making stupid mistakes. Enormous mistakes like fucking the guy who has avoided that level of intimacy with you like the plague. “Look, it happened. Stop apologizing, we were both there and neither of us stopped it. See you around Oli,” was the only thing I said from leaving the scene of our erotic act, to him pulling up outside my driveway. He didn’t try and say anything else, he looked like he was going to, but clearly he’s learned more than me recently.

  This kicked off my night of dreams and explicit reruns of pure and unadulterated bliss that I refuse to trivialize. I need that escape in my mind and more than anything, it’s shown me the type of sexual attention I’ve been missing and yearning for in my life.

  That’s the real reason, I couldn’t look him in the eye because I was terrified he would see the excitement I was feeling at having finally discovered my true self. It was the very last, very important missing piece of the Charlotte Groves puzzle.

  Hello…. Lottie Groves!

  When I stumble out of bed the next morning my cell phone is full of text messages:-

  Dolly: Sorry our night didn’t end as planned, hope you’re OK x

  Neely: Rick did not look happy when you left sister…

  Flo: Do I need to send Sonny to search for Oli’s body?

  The last one from Flo makes me laugh, so I reply to the group: - Mudjoes at 3pm. Coffee and details.

  Resounding replies confirming they’ll all be there are returned instantly, which gives me time to do one of the two remaining tasks at my parent’s house, my father’s office.

  When I arrive at the house, the cleaners have been in and covered some of the stuff I’ve decided to keep and put in storage. The goodwill stuff has all been transferred to a single room, ready for collection and it’s a room that’s nearly full. It’s sad that this is what most people leave as a legacy in their lives, donated goods. I hope it wasn’t too difficult for the house staff, I forgot that these people have been in our lives as long as I can remember and they’ve lost not only people they loved, but jobs as well. Pulling out my cell phone I dial Davis Hart’s number, “Hello, it’s Charlotte Groves, I’d like you to give each of the staff on my parents housekeeping and gardening team a year’s salary from my inheritance. If you could also prepare a note advising them I’ll write a letter of recommendation for future employment too… I’ll pop by at the earliest convenience to collect the monies and letters so I can hand deliver them.” Davis agrees, it’s a lovely gesture and I end the call.

  My father’s office is a traditional affair, deep oak desk and shelving, a huge leather chair that I remember spinning on as a young girl. His desk is positioned so that he could survey the grounds, including the pool and pool house. The walls are tastefully decorated with art I’ve never bothered to take notice of before and lots of pictures of me. For the first time I realize that pictures of our family are no longer displayed and there is little, if any, trace of my mother.

  After grabbing empty boxes from the hallway, I begin to pack things up in much the same manner as before, keep, trash or goodwill. It’s not long before I’ve cleared one full bookshelf and needing a
break from the dust, I decide to sit down and tackle my dad’s desk instead.

  The drawers hold the expected office supplies and deciding not to get embroiled in individual business papers, I pile them into a box for a later date. As I go to straighten the papers I notice a simple cardboard file, entitled Charlotte. My heart beats nervously at the discovery and curiosity wins over, dragging my feet up beside me, I leaf through it. It contains newspaper clippings, high school certificates and random photos of impromptu or special moments in my life. Ribbons from horse and pony shows and the odd hand crafted Christmas or birthday card I’ve given him as a little girl. I swipe the happy tears off my face and smile at the memories he’s chosen to treasure. Looking at the very last piece of paper, I see the words, Dear Charlotte.

  A letter to me, in my dad’s crafted penmanship.

  Dear Charlotte,

  I’ve written you this letter because we’re not speaking. I know my life has taken a path which has forced you to pick a side. Your mothers or mine. God, I hate that we’ve done this to you. I’m Sorry.

  I won’t get into my reasons, but eventually they’ll come out. This letter should help you understand my frame of mind and hopefully explain my view on our life, at least until we’re on better terms again.

  You were always the brightest star in my sky. You are the one true gift left from what has become a difficult life and marriage with your mother. Eventually, our divorce will be final and our lives will all take different turns and I’m sure they will be for the best, for all of us.

  I want Carter to become a real part of my life and I truly hate that I’ve had to lie to you, but I did it for him and Sophie, his mom. Sophie has had a tough start in life and pitching her against your mother and her associates wouldn’t have helped Carter.

  Your brother, yeah I know, all still seems crazy, but he’s a wonderful boy. Sophie and I had an unconventional start in our relationship and not one I would advocate for anyone, most of all you, but she’s the one I want to be with and Carter needs a man in his life. He also needs his big sister, he’s excited about getting to know you.

  Please don’t hate him Charlotte, don’t blame him for the choices I’ve made or how our life has turned out. He’s so pure and different to this life we lead and he’s taught me so much about myself already. Carter is in no way to blame for my mistakes.

  I’d like to think, things happen for a reason. Clearly God didn’t think I did too bad a job of raising you and saw fit to let me do it all again.

  Carter’s young and he needs me, he’s the star dancing next to yours at night when I look at the sky trying to find some peace in this life I lead. Sophie is young, but she loves me and I’d be a fool to pass that up for something that meant so little to your mother.

  People will not understand my choices, they’ll look down on us because of the life I’ve chosen, but my heart tells me you do, or you will someday. You’ll understand if I give you time.

  Anyway I’ve rambled on long enough. Know that I love you with all my heart. I’ll always love you and I pray that when you find the one person in your life who becomes everything to you that he treats you like the treasure you are. That you both orbit around each other because your happiness means he’s happy, like you need each other to survive and breathe. When you find that grab onto it and don’t let go, feed it and water it so it blooms forever.

  Please call me Charlotte, I miss you deeply, I may be an old man, but nothing will ever replace you and the place you have in my heart. I love you to the moon and back.

  Dad xoxo

  The letter is dated the day before mom and dad were killed and I’m gripping the paper so hard that I can see the tips of my fingers through the sheet of paper. Tears and snot have mixed together as I cry over the last part of my father that I never got to know. His heart, his soul and what he wanted in life.

  Sophie, Carter and me.

  Not my mom.

  I pour myself a quick glass of scotch from the decanter on his desk and stare at the garden with mixed feelings. I’m pleased to have a piece of him that I can save, but pissed off that I still have questions.

  What made my mom and dad fall apart?

  How the fuck did I miss what was going on? My mother’s drinking should have triggered off alarm bells that something was wrong. Either they were great actors for the cause, the Groves reputation or I was too wrapped up in Oli and my own life. I wash away the feelings of guilt by declaring that I won’t let Carter get pushed aside like me, he won’t become insignificant in my life. I won’t become my parents. Keeping up appearances and living in a shallow lie.

  Stuffing the letter in my purse, I return to the remaining bookshelf and as I grab the last stack of books my finger nail catches on a panel and rips. “Shit,” I shout pushing my finger in my mouth to ease the pulsing pain, whilst pushing the books aside with my other hand.

  Concealed behind the books is a hidden panel and cleverly hidden behind the panel is a safe.

  “Well, what do we have here?” I whisper to myself, “Where are you Mr. Key?” I go back to the desk and search, to find there are no keys in the desk. I search in the box holding the contents of the desk drawers and there are no keys in there either. I need in that safe, I know it’s a new addition to the study.

  Reaching for my purse and cell phone, I dial the only person who could possibly know someone that can help me, Dolly. If anyone can crack a safe, it has to be Jonas and if he can’t, he’ll know someone who can.

  *****

  Oli

  I can’t decide whether I was lucky or unlucky that I happened to be at Jonas’s place when Lottie called through for help. Hearing Dolly say, Baby can you go to Lottie’s parents place and crack open a safe, has to be the weirdest thing any wife can say to her husband. Unless of course you live on the Drakeson Ranch, then apparently it’s on a par with, pass the salt.

  “Looks like we’ll have to take a rain check on that beer,” I can see the excitement in his eyes at the prospect of his latest mission and excitement I’m not going to miss.

  “Sounds like we’re going to have a different kind of catch up. No way am I missing you crack a safe brother,” I tell him.

  “You sure you want to be where Lottie is?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely,” I bark back at him and he just howls with laughter.

  “And another one bites the dust,” he mumbles.

  “Fuck you,” there is no malice in my remark, just an understood silent confirmation.

  Jonas and Dolly climb into my Escalade and we head in the direction of the Groves mansion. “Hmm, what’s this?” I hear from the back.

  Glancing in my rear view mirror, I see Dolly holding up black beads. “Not sure,” I lie, but I know what they’re from, Lottie’s necklace thing that she was wearing last night. Obviously we were too distracted to notice it was wrecked during our fuck fest.

  “Maybe I’ll just ask Lottie if she recognizes the beads then,” Dolly replies smugly, making Jonas howl with laughter.

  “Shit Jonas, I’ve never seen you laugh so much, shame it’s at my expense.”

  “What you punk ass bitches don’t realize is, because I got my piece of ass first, it means I can enjoy watching you all suffer getting yours.”

  His remark is met with a swift slap to the back of his head from Dolly. “Piece of ass, really?”

  “Figure of speech, baby. You know I love all of you and not just that fine ass of yours.”

  “Keep talking about loving my ass in front of other people and the only thing people will find are pieces of you.” Now it’s my turn to laugh, this man of hardened steel sat next to me is as pussy whipped as they come and he fucking loves it.

  We pull up at the Groves mansion and it’s time for me to get my game face on. I have no idea how Lottie is going to react and I should prepare these two for that. “Listen, you may want to temperature check Lottie before you mention finding her shit in the back seat of my truck.”

  “And now he thinks I’
m a stupid piece of ass too,” Dolly grumbles and gets out of the car.

  Lottie is where we expected her to be, waiting in her father’s study. It’s obvious she’s been crying and I feel like a complete dick head, firstly for not helping her with this shit and secondly, for coming over unannounced, especially after last night. When she spots me, she lowers her eyes in shame and her cheeks tinge a deeper shade of red.

  Fucking cute. She’s shy and embarrassed about last night but I know what really lies in her soul.

  Passion.

  Raw, ball tightening, cock hardening and blood pumping fire and fucking passion.

  “Thanks for coming so quickly Jonas, Dolly,” she says with no mention of me and I’m trying to read between the lines of whether she’s having a dig about me not rushing to her aide over all the years in the past. It’s either that or a clear indication that I wasn’t invited and I’m being ignored.

  “Let’s have a look then,” Jonas replies and then whistles when he claps his eyes on it. “Nice, a real old masterclass. Single iron lock key, with something like a three inch inner shell. No one is getting in this motherfucker without specialist tools, the original key or a bomb. Two of those options I could help with, but the key would be easier and cause less damage to the house and the contents.”

  “I can’t find the key,” she tells him.

  “Where have you looked?” Dolly enquires.

  “The desk.”

  “OK, you and I will go and check your dad’s suit pockets, bedroom drawers and that kind of thing. You guys can stay here and try the office again.” As they leave the study, I hear Dolly whisper, “Got something you want to share?”

  “Nope,” is Lottie’s closed response.

  “OK sister, avoid me all you want, but avoiding the inquisition from the three of us at Mudjoes will be far more hilarious to watch.” Oh dear, looks like someone has got an interrogation in her future.

  They arrive keyless back at the study and are presented with two sets of legs, Jonas’s, sticking out from one end of the desk and mine, sticking out at the opposite end. All the drawers are also hanging out in various positions and some of the wood has been twisted into positions it shouldn’t be possible for it to be in.