Darius
JESUS. That didn’t take long at all. I knew we’d see Tiffany when we returned home, but I never
expected she’d show up within seconds of our arrival.
There was a time when I thought she was pretty. Beautiful, even. But now all I see is malice in those
ice-blue eyes and vanity in her every perfect feature.
Rawley leaves the porch and trots down the stairs, giving me a massive hug. I pat his back
awkwardly. Rawley isn’t a hugger. What the hell is going on here? I don’t miss the way Tiffany holds
her head up in the air and looks down her nose at Katie.
“Welcome home, Darius,” she says coolly. “You brought a tagalong?”
My hands ball into fists at the way Katie’s cheeks redden.
“Tiffany, didn’t expect the pleasure of your appearance so soon. What luck.”
Sarcasm drips from my tone like melting ice cream, which only stokes her fire. Her blue eyes narrow
and her lips purse, before she ropes her hands around Rawley’s bicep.
“Rawley brought me home for your arrival.”
Rawley looks abashed. “Now, sweetheart, we said we would talk to him later...”
“Oh, but we may as well clear things up soon, shouldn’t we? Seeing as he brought a guest and all.”
Rawley winces and forces a fake laugh. “Well, Tiffany and I are... we’re dating,” he says, his palms
pointing upward in a gesture of surrender. I feel as if he’s punched my gut, all the wind whooshing
right out of me.
Doesn’t he know what she’s capable of?
“I see.” I give him a cold smile. “Well then, let’s toast the happy couple. You two deserve each
other.”
I wrap my hand around Katie’s waist. “Meet Katie.” A note of pride enters my voice, though it
shouldn’t. This is only a hoax. Just to get us through this. Even if it feels less and less like a hoax
every minute. “My fiancée.”
Tiffany’s eyes narrow to mere slits for a split second before she forces a fake smile.
“Ah, I see. Isn’t that...” she looks down her nose. I can see her icy gaze searching Katie’s left finger
for a ring. “Quaint.”
A door slams, and Gran comes stomping on the porch with a broom in one hand and a duster in the
other. She’s dressed in old sweats, her hair tied up in a handkerchief, dust smeared on her cheeks.
“Well, look at who the cat dragged in,” she says with a cackle. “And Darius, you brought us a guest!”
She hands Tiffany the duster and broom. “Tiffany, be a dear and dust the mantel while I greet our
guests, will you?” She practically shoves her inside. “That’s a girl.”
Rawley purses his lips, but Gran ignores him. I stifle a smile. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
She comes down the steps and gives me a hug that’s noticeably weaker than the last time I came.
When was the last time I came? It’s her eightieth birthday, and she deserves a party. Still, I have to
admit, I’m glad Katie’s with me. It’s odd going home.
She leans in and whispers in my ear, “That girl you brought looks a lot sweeter than the Wicked Witch
of the West.” She pulls back and reaches for Katie.
“Well, hello. Look at you, aren’t you a pretty little thing.”
She wraps her arms around Katie, who gives her a warm hug back. My heart melts a little at that. She
isn’t abashed or scared, but welcomes the greeting from the woman who raised me.
“Now, tell me this grandson of mine treats you well,” she says, her arm around Katie’s waist. “He
might be a big billionaire, but around here, he’s still my boy.”
Katie looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes dancing with amusement.
“Good boy,” Katie mouths at me, teasing.
I narrow my eyes at Katie and make a discreet little swatting motion in the air, in retaliation to her
comment, which only serves to make her laugh.
“Is he?” she says to Gran. “You know, I could totally see that.”
Oh, could she? Seems I’ll have to set that record straight later tonight. There isn’t one ounce of boy
left in this daddy.
They go up the stairs together, and I’m left alone with Rawley.
There’s an awkward moment of silence but I decline to speak first, enjoying watching him squirm. “I
could’ve told you before I... before you, I mean, well, I—”
“It’s fine,” I lie.
He sighs and shoves his hands further in his pockets. “She’s good to me, man.”
Bullshit.
He shrugs. “It’ll work out. We have...an open arrangement in our relationship.”
“A fucking what?”
“Open arrangement.” He shrugs. “No need for monogamy, man. It’s the twenty-first century. I mean, I
know you guys had a misunderstanding, but maybe if you weren’t so old-fashioned, things could’ve
worked out. Glad there’s no hard feelings.” He slaps my back and heads up the stairs. I’ve never
wanted to deck him so hard in my life.
No hard feelings, my ass.
But the clouds shift, and the sun peeks through, illuminating the large, grassy lawn. I breathe in deeply.
I’m home, I’ve got a sweet woman to warm my bed, and I’ve risen above goddamn Tiffany’s catty
shenanigans.
I grab our bags and head inside, intent on not letting Tiffany or Rawley or any of them fuck this trip
up. Rawley and Tiffany deserve each other.
The black lacquered door swings closed behind me. I look for Katie, but only see Rawley, who’s
wielding the duster on the mantle while Tiffany sits, scowling, her arms crossed on her chest. Good
luck with that one, bro.
The gleaming hardwood floors give way to tile as I make my way to the sprawling farmhouse kitchen.
Katie’s sitting at the breakfast bar, already nursing a cup of tea.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” I say. I walk over to Katie and kiss her cheek. “You keep Gran out of
trouble while I bring the bags upstairs.”
Gran grins and swats at me with the wooden spoon she’s using to stir the large pot.
“Now, you have the room with the white enamel pitcher in it,” she says. “And Katie has the one with
the violet door.”
I give her an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”
She looks sternly at me. “I see a ring on her finger, Darius Morrow, but it isn’t the kind that gives you
permission to share a room in my house.”
For some reason I don’t quite fathom, Katie finds this outrageously amusing. She buries her face in the
teacup to hide her laughter. When Gran turns back to the stove, I give her a warning look. I’ll make my
way to her room, and no one will hear her screams when I spank her ass and make her come tonight,
in this ancient, spacious mansion.
It’s so different here than the place I call home. The stairs are immaculately clean, the smell of lemon
wood polish clean wafting through the air. A large vase of wildflowers christens a little table on the
landing, the windows are wide open, and a warm southern breeze makes hand-sewn curtains flutter.
My room is adjacent to Katie’s, and I quickly leave our bags before I go back downstairs.
It feels nice sitting beside Katie at the wooden table, and if I admit it, nicer than sitting at the fanciest
high-top table in Vegas.
“It’s lovely here, Gran,” she says, then she leans into me and whispers, “She told me to call her
Gran.” Katie’s eyes glow. She’s lapping this up.
“Thank you,” Gran says. “Darius, why don’t you take Katie for a stroll around the property while I
finish getting dinner ready?” She gives me a big wink.
I stifle a groan but take Katie’s hand and lead her out the back door. Clean laundry flaps on a
clothesline, and Gran has large tomato plants growing just outside her door, the ripe cherry tomatoes
hanging low, ready to be picked. Katie leans down and breathes them in. “It smells so green.”
“Have you ever eaten one? Straight from the vine?”
She shakes her head in wonder. “I grew up in the city. Never.”
I pluck a cherry tomato and wipe it on my shirt. “Try it.”
She opens her mouth, her eyes on me seductive and coy. I slide it between her lips, my cock
hardening. Who knew a garden tomato could be arousing?
She bites down, and her eyes roll back in her head. “Oh my God, that’s the most delicious thing I’ve
ever tasted.”
I tug a lock of her hair. I’ve tried hard to remain detached from her, but her love of life, her innocent
joy and expressions, the unpretentious way about her, melts me.
We amble toward the fields, the sun beating down hot and relentless, but Katie doesn’t seem to mind
it anymore. She squeals at the roughly hewn fence and field of wildflowers. “Oh, it’s a picture,” she
says. “Isn’t it a picture, Darius? How could you ever leave such a place?”
My body tightens, and I look away, not answering at first. I can’t sum it all up in a sentence... the
poverty I grew up with, the betrayal from Tiffany, the loss of my parents and younger brother.
“I didn’t grow up here,” I say simply. “Remember, I bought this for Gran later.”
“Oh, right,” she says, oblivious to whatever torment from my past might be written on my features.
She gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. “Is that a barn?”
Her childlike enthusiasm is adorable. “Yeah, baby. You want to go see?”
She’s already running up ahead of me. I have to trot to keep up with her.
“Are there any animals here?” she says, looking around the barn.
“Just a few chickens these days. Back in the day there were horses, though.”
She sighs. “I love horses. I love barns!”
Noted.
“You know what I like about barns?” I say, prowling closer to her.
She must catch the tone of my voice, because she looks over her shoulder at me and gives me a grin.
“They’re far away from your Gran’s insistence on sleeping in separate beds?”
“How’d you know?”
“Always thinking of sex,” she teases, but the next moment, she takes off at a run. “But you’ll have to
catch me first!”
I groan, and she sprints. I let her think she’s got a lead on me. She must’ve forgotten I played football
back in the day. She squeals when I give her chase, easily catching up to her. She ducks behind a bale
of hay, then scrambles up onto the loft. Ha. There’s no way down.
“Ah, Katie Kats like lofts, don’t they?” I say, pacing below when she scrambles for a way down, but
the only way down is right in front of me.
“Uh oh,” she mutters.
“Uh oh is right. Stuck up in a tree, little Katie Kat?”
She groans.
I chuckle as I make my way up the ladder.
“Such a naughty little girl running from her daddy, isn’t she?”
She doesn’t reply. I wonder what she’s up to. The ladder’s tall, and by the time I’m at the top, she’s
nowhere to be found. What the hell? I know there’s no way down from here.
I turn to the left when I hear her squeal and she tackles me to the ground. I quickly turn to grab her, and
in one swift motion, maneuver her beneath me.
“Naughty little kitten,” I say, tsking at her. “Daddy will have to punish you for that.”
She sticks her tongue out at me, and it’s all the encouragement I need to drape her over my knee and
smack her full, pertinent little ass.
“Someone will hear!”
“Good. Let them.”
I bring my palm down hard.
“Darius!”
“That’s daddy to you, young lady.”
I spank her again.
“Okay, okay,” she’s panting. “I want to be able to sit for dinner tonight!”
But she’s giggling, and her cheeks are flushed pink. I push her off my knee onto the grass and take off
my t-shirt. I open it out and lay it across the hay. I arrange her on top.
“You’ll sit just fine,” I tell her, sliding her leggings off and reaching for her panties. “You’ll just
remember who your daddy is when you do.”
She fumbles at my waist and unfastens my jeans, draws my cock out, and guides me down between
her legs. I shift my weight and cage her beneath me as I slide between her folds and groan when her
pussy hugs my cock.
“Be quiet,” I whisper in her ear. “We don’t want anyone to hear us, now, do we?”
Her eyes widen and her cheeks heat. She bites her lip and shakes her head, then her eyes roll back
when I thrust hard in her. I cover her mouth with my hand while I fuck her hard, with swift, savage
strokes. She keens with pleasure and stifles her whimpers.
“Katie likes it when I take her rough,” I whisper in her ear, before I take her earlobe and bite down.
“Katie likes to be fucked hard.”
She moans and writhes but nods her head. I capture her wrists and pin them to her sides while I
continue to thrust in and out without stopping, not holding myself back, but claiming her right here.
Her head falls back and her mouth parts. I know the way her breathing hitches just before she comes,
the way her pulse races against my fingers. I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Come for daddy. But
not a sound or I’ll punish you.”
She clamps her lips and holds herself back with difficulty. My own release ravages me as her pussy
tightens and I come hard inside her. I milk her climax and mine, slowing to languid strokes as the
aftershocks of her climax make her whimper.
I want to hold her close to me and ask her to be mine for real. To make that ring on her finger more
than a fucking hoax. To marry her, here on this property that she’s so quickly fallen in love with.
I want to tell her that I love her.
But I can’t do that. I can’t add further confusion to this mess we’ve made with the contract, with the
fake engagement. It’s only an arrangement—this... this lightness I feel when I’m with her, this
happiness... it’s not my real life.
No matter how much I wish it was.
We quickly dress and make it back to the house, unseen by anyone else. I brush hay from her hair just
before we enter the back door. Gran gives me a long look, then laughs and shakes her head.
“It’s nice to see you smiling, Darius,” she finally says.
Smiling? Am I? Sometimes you don’t miss something good and natural until you have it back again.
“So nice to see you smiling,” a cool voice comes from the corner, but I don’t care that Tiffany’s here.
Nothing can dim the warmth of Katie’s smile, the feel of her hand in mine, or the memory of her
parted lips and silent screams when I made her come.
“Now, Tiffany, why don’t you and Rawley set the table for dinner.” Gran points her spoon to a drawer
by the dining room entrance. “Cloth napkins and silverware are in that drawer, thank you.”
Tiffany glares at Gran’s back.
“Oh, I can help,” Katie says, which only makes Tiffany even angrier.
“I can handle it,” she snaps.
Katie’s eyes flash to mine, but I only tug her onto my knee.
“Sit with me, Katie Kat,” I tell her. “It’ll be good for Tiffany to do a little work now and again.”
“Yes, you sit, Katie. You two are the guests of honor this weekend.” Gran gives me a wink and lowers
her voice. “And it’ll do that girl some good to do some actual work for once.”
I grin back. “Agreed. So who’s coming to this party?”
She rattles off a list of guests as long as my arm, but I don’t care. Most of them are small town friends
of hers, some cousins, some aunts and uncles. I’d feel odd coming back here if it weren’t for the
woman sitting comfortably on my lap. She rests her head on my shoulder and looks around the
kitchen.
“This kitchen could grace the cover of Country Living,” she says.
Gran grins. “Thank you. Aren’t you a sweetheart?” She opens the oven and pulls out a large, steaming
chicken pot pie. “Darius, how did a businessman like you ever meet a sweet little thing like her?”
If only she knew. Thankfully, Vegas news hasn’t reached these parts. Katie covers her mouth, stifling a
giggle.
“Oh, I met her at the hotel,” I say, pinching Katie’s ass to make her behave.
“Oh?” Gran takes a large bowl of green beans and hands them to me. “I’m glad to hear it. Now make
yourself useful and bring the food out, will you?”
“What happened to the guests of honor?” I say, gently pushing Katie off my lap and taking the dishes
out to the dining room.
“I meant her, Darius.”
I’m still grinning when I bring the food into the dining room, while I plot my way back into Katie’s
bed tonight.