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lolacelest101 · 17 days ago

Text

No Need For Privacy

18+ MDNI

Hii!!! This is my first story or anything like this that I write and publish so I am sure it will be bad. I would love to get your feedback and let me know if I missed anything in the TWs. I am a big fan of F1 and other mainstream spaces so I will try to do more in the future.

Happy Reading!

Word Count: 6131

Themes: Lando!Norris x Fem!American!reader, Embarrassing moment turn spicy, next door neighbor, close proximity

Smutty tings: wall pinning, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, mirror sex, p in v, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!!!!), spanking, oral sex, slight edging, fingering, gagging, praise and degradation kink.

Your POV

I moved to Monaco a week ago with my two best friends from work, Liana and Aaliyah. It’s been a dream come true for all of us, especially since our company launched a new project in the Monaco branch and requested our expertise.

Settling in has been a breeze, mostly thanks to Alexander Qasemi, the top manager of the Monaco office. He has multiple investments in the area and offered to rent out one of his properties to us at a discount. It’s conveniently close to the office, and his wife, Catalina, has been a lifesaver, helping us get set up, showing us around, and pointing out all the spots we need to check out. Coming from Florida, Monaco feels like a mix of Palm Beach and Miami, but it’s still a world apart from Tampa, where we grew up.

The house has three bedrooms, each with its own view from the second floor. We picked rooms based on the views, but I ended up going for the one with extra closet space—even if it has a “boring” view of the street and a direct line of sight into the house next door. And judging by what I’ve seen, the neighbor isn’t big on privacy; I can see right into what looks like the main bedroom.

I wake up to Liana singing loudly to what sounds like a new song by The Weeknd, her voice filling the house. Squinting as sunlight streams into my room, I reluctantly drag myself up and into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, choosing to ignore my messy bed hair. Liana’s door is open, and she spots me staggering around like a zombie.

“Good morning, sunshine!” she shouts, singing along with the song. All I can think is, It’s way too early for this.

I shuffle back to my room and glance at the clock on my nightstand. It flashes 10:32 AM, and panic hits—I remember that Catalina mentioned she’d be here around 10:45 AM to show us more of the area, and she insisted we make time for it.

I rush back into the hallway, suddenly wide awake. “Liana, why didn’t you wake us up? Catalina’s gonna be here any minute!”

Liana smirks and says, “I did, about 30 minutes ago. Aaliyah’s already up and made coffee. You told me I was ‘handsome and sexy’ and asked for five more minutes.” She’s trying not to laugh, and my face goes red as I realize I was probably having an almost wet dream.

“Well… he sure was, wasn’t he?” I say, trying to brush it off. “But we still need to hurry.”

After a quick change into something suitable for the weather, I throw on some black skinny jeans that hug my curves, a short flowy black-and-white striped top, and sneakers.

“Y/N, come down! Catalina’s here,” Aaliyah calls up the stairs.

I see her car pulling up from my window, so I run down to grab a quick sip of coffee before she knocks on the door. Liana’s sitting on the couch, putting her shoes on, and I lean against the counter, downing my coffee like it’s a race. Aaliyah opens the door, greeting Catalina with hugs and kisses. I set my mug down, go over to greet her, and offer to make her a coffee before we start the tour.

Catalina’s dressed in a floral top and white pants, looking like the definition of “aging like fine wine.” Despite being in her 60s, she doesn’t look a day over 40. She radiates warmth, like a grandmother everyone wishes they had.

Liana goes back to grab her phone, and as Catalina and I step outside, we bump into a man with dark hair and intense eyes. Catalina lights up as soon as she sees him, opening her arms for a hug.

“Oh, Max! I didn’t know you’d be here!” she says, surprised, pulling him in for an embrace.

“It was very last-minute for the Monaco GP,” he replies, hugging her back. When he lets go, he glances at me expectantly.

“Max, this is Y/N,” Catalina says. “She moved here a week ago with her friends.”

Max extends his hand, and I shake it, trying to keep my cool. “Nice to meet you. I guess we’ll be running into each other a lot,” I say, smiling.

Holy shit, Max Fewtrell is staying next door! My mind races, and I make a mental note to change my Quadrant phone case ASAP—I don’t want him thinking I’m some obsessive fan.

Max’s voice snaps me back. “Ah, an American accent! Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

I laugh lightly as Liana and Aaliyah join us. I introduce them, and Max shakes their hands before introducing himself.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m not exactly your neighbor, but my best friend lives here, so you’ll probably see him more often than me. Oh—there he is now,” he adds, looking over my shoulder.

My heart skips. The only person this could be is Lando Norris, and I’m about to pretend I’m way cooler than I actually am.

I snap back to see Lando Norris, head down, fiddling with his car keys. When he looks up, he immediately spots Catalina, a smile breaking across his face.

“Hey, you! How’ve you been? I already miss having you as my neighbor,” he says, giving her a hug.

She laughs, “I’ve missed you too, but I brought you some new company, so you won’t miss me too much.” Catalina turns to us with a smile. “Lando, these are the new neighbors: Liana, Aaliyah, and Y/N.”

Lando shakes each of our hands. His grip is firm, his fingers slightly calloused, probably from hours on the simulator. When he gets to me, I feel his gaze linger a bit longer, like he’s trying to place me.

“I don’t mean to sound creepy, but… you’re the one sleeping in that room, right?” He nods toward my bedroom window.

Caught off guard, I stammer, “Uh… yeah, that’s mine. Why?”

A faint blush crosses his face, a sly grin forming as he glances back at me. “You might want to, uh… move your mirror. Just saying.”

It takes a second for the realization to hit, but when it does, I’m mortified. I remember putting my large gold mirror directly across from the window and how, last night, after a long day of rearranging, I decided to… “treat” myself, lights on and all.

My mind races back to that memory—me stripping down, lying on my bed, a vibrator in one hand…

I force myself back to the present, trying to salvage what little dignity I have left. “Oh! I didn’t realize anyone was home over there… It looked empty all week.”

Lando chuckles, his grin widening. “Yeah, I just got back last night. And… well, let’s just say I got quite the welcome back.”

The heat rising in my cheeks is unbearable, and I quickly turn to Catalina. “So, Catalina, you mentioned we have a lot of places to see today?”

I feel Lando’s eyes on me, making my skin prickle with heat.

“Yes! Let’s get going.” Catalina waves goodbye to the guys, and we start heading toward her SUV. As I walk away, I can still feel Lando’s gaze burning into me, like he’s savoring every second of my embarrassment.

-------------------

Later That Night

The night air is warm and slightly humid, with a faint breeze blowing in from the sea. We’d just gotten back from the club, laughing and chattering as we climbed out of the cab. Aaliyah and Liana are still buzzing with energy, but I hang back a bit, enjoying the cool air on my flushed skin.

Liana nudges my shoulder. “We’re going inside to get some water. You good out here?”

I nod, waving them off. “Yeah, I just need a moment to cool down. I’ll be right behind you.”

They head inside, leaving me alone in the quiet of the street. I close my eyes, letting the night’s calm settle around me, when I hear footsteps. I look up, and there’s Lando, standing just a few feet away with Max at his side. Max offers a friendly nod before slipping inside, leaving Lando and me alone on the sidewalk.

“Well, look who it is,” Lando drawls, a smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t expect to see you out here this late.”

I shrug, trying to act nonchalant. “Just needed some air. The club was loud.”

He steps closer, his gaze intense. “So, have you moved that mirror yet?”

I feel my cheeks heat up despite the cool night air. “Why do you keep bringing that up?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, his tone teasing. “Maybe because it’s hard to forget. Didn’t realize you were such an exhibitionist, but hey, I’m not complaining.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I didn’t know anyone was watching. And I’m not an exhibitionist.”

He raises an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. “Could’ve fooled me. You looked pretty comfortable up there, totally absorbed… didn’t even close the blinds.”

The tension between us is thick, the memory of last night making my pulse race. I cross my arms, feeling his gaze linger on me. “Well, you could’ve looked away.”

“Could’ve,” he agrees, stepping even closer until he’s barely a foot away. His voice drops lower, his tone laced with something dark and enticing. “But I didn’t want to.”

A shiver runs through me as his words sink in. We’re standing close enough now that I can feel his warmth, his eyes scanning my face, searching for something. His gaze drops briefly to my lips, and I can feel the air crackling between us, heavy and charged.

I tilt my head, giving him a challenging look. “You get off on watching your neighbors, then?”

His smirk deepens. “Not usually. But you’re not just any neighbor, are you?”

I swallow, feeling my resolve slipping. “And what makes me so special?”

Lando’s hand lifts, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, lingering just a second too long. “Something about you… can’t quite put my finger on it.”

His voice is rougher now, barely above a whisper. Every nerve in my body is on fire, my breath hitching as his gaze drops to my lips again.

“What are you waiting for, then?” I murmur, my voice betraying a hint of a dare.

He chuckles softly, his fingers trailing down my cheek. “You sure you can handle it?”

I lean forward, closing the space between us just enough that I can feel the heat of his breath against my lips. “I think I can manage.”

Lando’s hand moves to my waist, pulling me a fraction closer until there’s barely any space left between us. “Careful, princess. Once we start, I might not stop.”

His words are a warning, but his eyes tell a different story—one that has me aching to close the distance, to see just how far this tension can go.

Just as Lando leans in, his hand firmly on my waist and his eyes locked on mine, the front door swings open, breaking the moment.

“Y/N!” Aaliyah calls out, her voice bright and oblivious. “You coming? We need you to settle a debate on which of us danced better tonight!”

I pull back, startled, and glance over at the girls standing in the doorway. They don’t notice Lando standing in the shadows just out of their line of sight.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be right in,” I call, trying to keep my voice steady, heart still racing from the almost-kiss.

Lando chuckles softly, his hand slipping from my waist, though his gaze doesn’t leave mine. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans down, his lips grazing my ear, voice low and teasing. “Guess we’ll have to pick this up some other time, hmm?”

My breath catches, and I turn to give him a playful glare, but he’s already smirking, enjoying every second of my flustered expression. I can barely think straight, still caught up in the heated moment we were just sharing.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmurs, his tone laced with a promise that has my heart thudding against my chest. He steps back, giving me one last lingering look before turning toward his house. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder with that signature smirk.

“Don’t let those blinds stay open tonight,” he says, voice dripping with suggestion. “Or do. Your call.”

I feel a blush rising to my cheeks as he disappears into the darkness, leaving me there with my heart pounding and my mind racing.

I turn back toward the house, trying to regain my composure as I walk inside. Aaliyah and Liana are too caught up in their dance debate to notice the flush on my face or the slight tremble in my hands.

But as I head upstairs, all I can think about is Lando’s words, his hand on my waist, the almost-kiss that left me wanting so much more. That smirk, that challenge—it’s all burned into my mind, and I can still feel the heat of his touch lingering on my skin.

I lie in bed, staring at my mirror across from the window, replaying the night in my mind. And, despite my better judgment, I leave the blinds just a little open.

--------------

The Next Morning

I wake up to a quiet house, the morning sun streaming in through my half-open blinds. Liana and Aaliyah left early to grab some groceries, promising to be back soon, but I decided to stay and sleep in. After a while, though, I find myself wide awake and craving something sweet—specifically, chocolate chip cookies.

I slip into some cozy clothes and head downstairs, popping on some music as I pull ingredients from the cupboards. Soon, the smell of warm cookies fills the air, and I feel a little proud of my spontaneous baking session. Figuring it’d be a nice way to break the ice, I plate a few to bring next door later.

Just as I pull out the last tray from the oven, there’s a knock at the door. I wipe my hands on a towel, open it, and, sure enough, there’s Lando, standing there with his signature smirk.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he says, stepping in before I can even invite him. “Saw the girls head out and figured you’d still be here. Thought you’d sleep all day after last night’s… excitement.”

I feel my cheeks heat instantly, but I roll my eyes, trying to brush it off. “Good morning to you, too. And no, I don’t sleep all day. I’m actually productive.”

He glances at the mixing bowls and cooling cookies. “Productive, huh? Baking cookies for the new neighbors?” He reaches over, snagging one from the plate. “Are these just for me?”

“They’re for the neighbors,” I say, crossing my arms with a smirk. “But you’re welcome to have one.”

He takes a bite, savoring it with an approving nod. “Alright, alright—not bad. Didn’t peg you as a homemaker.”

“I’ve got layers,” I tease, nudging him lightly.

He chuckles, but his gaze drifts around the kitchen, taking in the scattered ingredients and my little baking mess. His eyes eventually settle back on me, a glint of mischief lighting them up.

“So, I gotta ask,” he says, leaning against the counter, “did you actually move that mirror? Or should I go check?”

I feel a flicker of heat under his gaze, but I keep my tone even, hoping he won’t catch on. “Of course I did. You were right—it needed to be moved.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Oh, yeah? Somehow, I don’t quite believe you.”

Before I can stop him, he’s already heading for the stairs, and my heart leaps. “Lando!” I laugh nervously, following after him. “You don’t need to go up there!”

“Need to see for myself,” he says over his shoulder, that smirk still on his face. “If you really moved it, then you shouldn’t mind me checking.”

He starts toward the stairs, and I blink, realizing what he means. “Wait, Lando—”

But he’s already halfway up, glancing back with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re shy now.”

I trail him up the stairs, heart racing. The truth is, I didn’t move the mirror—it’s still in the exact same spot, right across from the bed. And now he’s about to see it.

He steps into my room and glances around, his gaze landing on the mirror across from the bed, right where he left it in his memory. The corner of his mouth lifts, and he lets out a low chuckle, clearly amused.

“You didn’t move it,” he murmurs, his voice low and pleased.

I cross my arms, trying to play it off. “I like it where it is. Why should I change it just because you got an eyeful?”

Lando steps closer, his gaze never wavering from mine, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe I want another one.”

The tension between us thickens, the air electric. He’s close enough now that I can feel his warmth, his gaze dropping to my lips before returning to my eyes. His hand moves up to gently brush a strand of hair from my face, lingering just a moment too long, fingers tracing down my jaw.

“You’re not afraid of a little attention, are you?” he asks, his voice soft, teasing.

I swallow, trying to steady my breathing. “Depends on who’s watching.”

He leans in even closer, his breath warm against my skin. “Then tonight… don’t close those blinds. And don’t move that mirror.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and filled with promise. My heart races, every nerve tingling as I meet his gaze, a challenge sparking between us that’s impossible to ignore.

Lando’s fingers linger on my jaw for just a moment longer, then he pulls back, that smirk still on his lips as he steps away.

“Enjoy your cookies, Y/N,” he says, glancing over his shoulder as he heads back downstairs, leaving me standing there, breathless, the echo of his words replaying in my mind.

As I watch him leave, I can still feel the heat of his touch, the thrill of his words searing into my memory. And tonight? Well, let’s just say I don’t plan on closing those blinds.

----------

Later That Night

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting Monaco in a warm, golden glow, I stand in front of my bedroom mirror, adjusting the last few things on my dresser. The blinds are open just enough, casting a soft reflection of the room and inviting in a sliver of the night. I glance over my shoulder at the window, knowing full well who might be watching.

I breathe in, feeling the excitement build. Tonight, I’m ready to give him that “show” he teased me about. I settle onto my bed, relaxing against the pillows, and allow myself to sink into the evening’s quiet. There’s an awareness in the air, the thrill of knowing that maybe, just maybe, I’m being watched.

I reach over to my nightstand, casually bringing out my favorite toys, a purple vibrating dildo and a vibrating toy in the shape of a tongue. Slowly, I begin to lose myself in the moment, all too aware of the tantalizing possibility that Lando might be watching from his window.

Just as I’m truly relaxing into the scene, there’s a firm knock at the door, shattering the silence. My heart jumps as I glance at the door, pulse racing. I hesitate, but something inside pushes me to go see who it is.

I make my way downstairs, opening the door just wide enough to see Lando standing there, his eyes dark, filled with that same mischievous look that’s been driving me crazy. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“You left your blinds open,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with suggestion. “Thought I’d come by and… check on you.”

In one swift motion, he closes the space between us, his hands sliding around my waist, pressing me firmly against the wall, his body heat igniting every inch of me. His gaze locks onto mine, daring me to pull away, but there’s no chance I would. He dips his head, his lips grazing my ear as he whispers, “You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”

I shiver, the thrill of his words sparking something wild and eager between us. His hands roam, fingers slipping under my shirt, exploring every curve as his lips capture mine in a kiss that’s hungry and unapologetic, each movement demanding a response.

As he carries me to the bedroom, there’s an electric anticipation, an unspoken promise that fills the space between us. The moment we reached my room, he pressed me against the wall, his hands firm on my waist, holding me steady. His gaze meets mine in the mirror across from us, dark and intense, every look fueling the thrill building between us.

He leans in, his voice a low murmur against my neck. “You knew I couldn’t stay away, didn’t you?” His words send a shiver through me, and he slides his hands along my waist, drawing me even closer, his touch both possessive and gentle, filled with the heat we’ve been holding back.

“I did—but I didn’t anticipate you barging in at this hour,” I manage to say between kisses, each one feeling more primal than the last. My core seems to have a mind of its own, my hips grinding against him, wanting more. Needing more.

He grins against my lips. “Didn’t take you for the needy type, princess.” He pulls back, sitting on the bed, leaving me craving the contact.

“Well, princess, not everything comes easy,” he murmurs, his gaze growing hungrier. “You teased me, so now it’s time you learn your lesson.”

I rise from his lap, tugging his shirt off in one motion, my hands exploring his toned chest and feeling his muscles tense under my touch. I trail kisses from his jaw down his neck, my lips grazing every inch, each one making my core ache with anticipation.

Sliding to my knees between his thighs, I reach the waistband of his trousers and boxers, sliding them down to let his hard cock spring free. My eyes, full of lust and need, are fixed on him, my mouth craving the feel of him. I waste no time wrapping my hand around his length, bringing my mouth to the tip, letting my tongue swirl slowly around the head before sliding down, inch by inch.

His moans and grunts grow stronger, more primal by the second. His hands grip my hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail, giving both of us a clearer view in the mirror.

“Fuck, princess, look at you, being such a good girl for me,” he growls, tilting my head to see his cock sliding deep into my mouth, the tip pressing at the back of my throat. Our eyes meet in the reflection, his grin never fading, eyes bright with satisfaction at the sight.

I try hard not to choke or gag as he picks up the pace, using my mouth for his pleasure. I can feel my own need intensifying, wetness pooling as I slip my free hand between my legs, seeking a hint of relief from the ache.

Just as I feel his cum on my tongue, sliding down my throat, my moans vibrate around his length, making him twitch in my mouth. His gaze shifts to the mirror, catching sight of my hand as I touch myself. In that instant, he releases his hold on my head and pulls his cock from my mouth, leaving a mix of confusion and hunger on my face.

“Princess… did I tell you that you could touch yourself?” Lando leans in, lifting my chin so our faces are close, his breath warm against my lips.

“No, you didn’t,” I reply, a hint of rebellion mixed with anticipation flashing across my face.

“Well, bad girls need punishments, so let me think of something.” An idea lights up his eyes as he guides me up onto the bed, positioning me on my hands and knees, facing the mirror. My mascara has smudged, trailing down my cheeks from the tears shed while he was in my mouth.

Part of me craves for him to finally take me and fill me up, while another part wants to see just what punishment he has in store.

He stands beside the bed and instructs me to keep my ass up and face down, so I adjust to ensure we’re both visible in the mirror. Once I settle, Lando’s hand trails from my hair down the arch of my back and onto my ass. He rubs my cheeks, his fingers dipping lower to feel my wetness, sticky and creamy, dripping onto the mattress.

“Look at you. So wet and needy for me,” he murmurs, bringing two fingers coated in my arousal back to my lips. I open my mouth, ready for a taste, and he slides his fingers in, letting me lick them clean. His breath is warm on my neck as he leans close to whisper in my ear.

“Good girls don’t touch themselves unless I say so.” He nibbles on my earlobe. “But it seems like you might just be my needy little slut instead.”

He steps away, the cool air hitting my sensitive core, sending shivers down my spine and adding a thrill to the moment.

Without warning, a sharp smack lands on one of my ass cheeks, the pain mixing with a tingling heat. He rubs over the reddened spot before delivering another smack, this time to the other side.

“Since you teased me twice, you’ll be getting four spanks—unless I see you haven’t learned your lesson.” He counts, “One,” landing a solid smack, then “Two,” and repeats on both sides. By the time he finishes the fourth, his hand has left my skin bright red, each touch leaving a sensitive, electric throb. A mix of pleasure and pain shows on my face with each strike.

“That’s it, my perfect princess,” he murmurs, brushing his fingertips gently over my sore, reddened skin. “You did so well. I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”

“Yes, please,” I breathe, arching my back and raising my hips higher, my aching core desperate for attention. A grin spreads across his face as his fingers slip into my folds, rubbing my swollen clit, drawing a moan from my lips with every heavy breath.

Lando’s hunger grows more possessive as he slips a finger inside me, filling my tight heat. The sensation sends my body into overdrive, and the pleasure on his face only fuels the fire inside me. He slides another finger in, his free hand roaming along the curve of my arching spine.

His thumb continues to circle my sensitive clit, his pace quickening as he pumps his fingers in and out, each movement leaving me trembling with need. I bite my lip, trying to muffle my moans, but the pleasure is too much.

“Lando… I’m—close,” I manage to breathe out between gasps and moans.

“Oh, princess, I can see that,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers out of me suddenly, leaving an unbearable emptiness in their wake.

My wetness clings to his fingers in a glistening string as he pulls them away. “Fuck, you look so good on my fingers,” he growls, his gaze fixed on the sight of my arousal. Slowly, he brings his fingers to his lips, wrapping his tongue around them and sucking them clean.

“FUCK. And you taste ten thousand times better.” His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he savors the taste, the heat in the room climbing higher. The sight of him tasting me sends my brain spiraling into bliss, my gaping mouth wordlessly wishing for more.

Moments later, he leans down, his tongue sliding through my folds, the sensation stealing the air from my lungs. He places a light, teasing kiss on my core before beginning to suck and eat every inch of my pussy with eager determination.

“Fuck, you’re addictive, princess,” he murmurs against my entrance, the vibration of his voice making me shiver. His hands grip my ass firmly, spreading me wider, giving him full access to devour me.

His tongue teases my entrance, flicking and dipping inside, making my body twitch and ache for more. My hips start to move on their own, thrusting slightly, begging for him to go deeper.

Without warning, he flips me onto my back, positioning me for a better view. His hands grasp my thighs, and with quick precision, he pulls me to the edge of the bed. Dropping to his knees, he toys with my clit, his fingers circling and pressing before diving back between my legs, tongue working with unrelenting fervor.

“Now this, princess,” he murmurs between kisses and licks, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “I’d eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of my life.”

His words push me closer to the edge, my climax approaching rapidly as my legs begin to tremble. His grip tightens on me, holding me in place, preventing me from pulling away from his relentless mouth. My body shudders suddenly as the wave of relief I’ve been craving washes over me.

My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as I grind against his mouth, riding out every pulse of my orgasm, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

I feel my arousal spill into his mouth as he greedily licks and sucks, not letting a single drop go to waste. He stands, his eyes dark and filled with hunger, leaning in to kiss me. The taste of my release lingers on his lips, and I moan softly, lost in the sensation.

His hard cock presses against my core, grinding against me with desperate need, and I instinctively move my hips, craving to feel him inside me. His kiss grows rough and possessive, his hand sliding down from my neck to my breasts. He pinches one of my nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through me and drawing a gasp that he swallows into the kiss, his grin wicked and satisfied.

“If my needy princess wants something, she has to ask for it,” he whispers, his lips parting from mine with a teasing grin, his breath warm against my ear.

His hand slides down to my clit, his fingers circling and flicking, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. My breath hitches, and a soft moan escapes my lips, my mind struggling to process his words.

“Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want,” he growls, his voice firm yet tantalizing, his fingers working me into a frenzy.

“Fuck me, please,” I murmur, my voice trembling as the heat builds in my core, every nerve in my body begging for him.

“Say that again, princess,” he demands, his tone dripping with playful dominance. “A little louder for me.”

“Fuck! I need you to fuck me—to feel you inside me. Please!” The frustration and raw need are evident in my voice, my body aching for him to claim me.

“That’s my good little slut,” he murmurs, satisfaction clear in his tone. He adjusts himself at my entrance, teasing me for a moment before slowly sliding inside, letting me adjust to his size. The stretch is overwhelming, and my fingers instinctively trail down his back, nails digging in and leaving marks. He jolts forward at the sensation, filling me deeper and making my head fall back, my back arching as I gasp at the sudden invasion.

He growls into my neck, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. The rhythm shifts, his chest lifting from mine, giving him a full view of my bare body beneath him. One hand slides to my stomach, pressing down lightly as he picks up speed, fucking me harder and faster, his thrusts deep and commanding.

“That’s it, princess,” he growls, his voice raw with pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Let me stretch you just enough to make your pussy become a ring on my cock.” His hips slam into mine with a hunger that matches my own, the sound of our skin meeting echoing through the room.

As his thrusts grow more desperate, his hand reaches for the vibrating tongue toy on the nightstand. Without missing a beat, he presses it against my clit, the sudden overload of sensation making me throw my head back, a loud moan of his name escaping my lips as my hands clutch the sheets for dear life.

A wicked glint of satisfaction flashes across Lando’s face, his grin smug and proud. He leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, “Princess, as much as your moans are music to my ears, we can’t have your friends interrupting us right now—or finding out that their sweet little friend is such a good slut for the guy next door.”

Before I can respond, he grabs my black lace panties by the bed—the ones I’d removed during my earlier “show”—and gently pushes them into my mouth, muffling my cries of ecstasy as he continues to claim me.

My pussy clenches and twitches around his cock as his thrusts grow wetter, the sound of our movements filling the room. My orgasm teeters on the edge, his cum seeping into me, intensifying the sensation.

His growls and moans grow deeper and more primal. “Fuck, princess, you must be close,” he murmurs, his face satisfied as he watches my trembling legs and the euphoria written all over my face.

My muffled cries escape past the panties still in my mouth, vibrating softly in the heated air. “Cum for me, princess,” Lando commands, thrusting into me twice more. His words send me hurtling into my second orgasm of the night, my body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure consume me.

Lando’s thrusts grow sloppy, his grip on my waist tightening as he buries himself deep inside me. My pussy milks every last drop of his release, the warmth of his cum splashing against my inner walls. With a low growl, he slides out of me, both of our arousals dripping down my thighs and pooling onto the mattress.

He steps back, his eyes lighting up as he takes in the sight of my used, naked body, glistening and dripping with his cum. Slowly, his gaze traces every inch of me, savoring the evidence of what we’d just done.

“You know,” he says, his voice still thick with lust, “I might want this view every hour of the day from now on.” His tone is intoxicating, and he steps closer, gently removing the panties from my mouth before placing a soft kiss on my lips. “What do you think? You agree?” His smirk deepens, a dimple just beginning to peek through.

“I think that can be arranged,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck, a cheeky smile spreading across my face.

“Perfect,” he says, brushing his lips along my skin in a trail of butterfly kisses. “Let me start a shower for you, and then you can get some rest.” His voice is softer now, but still filled with care.

As he moves toward the bathroom, I pull myself up onto shaky feet, my body sore in all the best ways. Each ache is a reminder of every moment we’d just shared. I follow him, leaning on the sink in front of the mirror, catching a glimpse of my reflection—flushed, satisfied, and completely undone. The sensation of his cum still seeping out of me draws my attention, and I can’t help but slide a finger down to catch a drop, bringing it to my lips. I shut my eyes, savoring the taste.

Fuck, I need more.

Lando calls to me, his voice echoing softly under the sound of the shower. I walk toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he turns to face me. Pulling him into a sensual kiss, I whisper against his lips, “Are you up for a round two?” A glimmer of mischief dances in my eyes.

Lando grins at my request, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. Leaning close, he murmurs under the steam of the shower, “I could never deny you a request like that, princess.”

The End

#lando norris #lando x reader #ln4 #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #max fewtrell

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sargeantposting · 11 months ago

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A Logan Sargeant Primer: Part I (2000 - 2015)

Logan grows up in a ritzy suburb of Fort Lauderdale called Lighthouse Point with his parents and his older brother, Dalton.

The Sargeants don't have a deep motorsport history. Dalton and Logan get their first go-karts for Christmas in 2006, a gift from their father after their mother refuses to let her children ride dirt bikes anymore. Logan tells the NYT that:

“No one in the family was really even that much into racing. We just picked it up as a hobby, something to do on the weekend.”

The two brothers get more serious as the years go by-- within a few years, they're racing competitively. They both do well. Logan finishes in third place in only his first year of racing, and wins two titles in his second.

Unfortunately, they figure out fairly quickly that there isn’t much more room to advance in American karting:

My older brother, Dalton, and I had been racing for a few years, and it had gotten to the point where we were asking around about where the next best level of competition was, and everybody was saying the same thing…. It was always Europe, Europe, Europe, Europe. To the point where my parents really started to think about it. At first it was just this idea, like Maybe we’ll move to Europe, who knows. I was just a kid overhearing stuff, so I didn’t know how serious the conversation must have been until this day I’ll never forget.

The conversation gets serious in 2012, when Logan’s dad, Daniel, asks the two if they want to move to Switzerland:

It was summer, and we were out to lunch. It was me, my dad, and Dalton. [...] So we’re at this restaurant, right? Chowing down on burgers (my favorite), and my dad gets to asking us about racing. Finally, he’s like, “What do you guys think? Do you really want to race in Europe? Are you 100% sure about this?” Me being 11 and naive, I was like, “Yeah sure.” Looking back on it, I think I was lucky I was that young and that I didn’t really know what I was signing up for. All the different ways it could change my life, the level of sacrifice it would require from my whole family. Because if I had known, I don’t know if I would’ve made the same decision so easily. It all happened fast, like in the movies. One minute, it’s Christmas, I’m six, and me and Dalton are yelling at the top of our lungs, excited about the two karts sitting in the driveway, pointed diagonally at each other like in a magazine. Next minute, I’m 11 and Dalton’s 14. We’re sitting at the table eating lunch with my dad, and it’s decided — our family’s moving to Europe.

When Logan tells the same story in GQ in 2023, he says:

I was always just going with the flow. For me it was just: sure.

The Sergeant family leaves for Switzerland just as Logan finishes up fifth grade. While Logan always talks about the family move to Switzerland in the context of his parents making sacrifices for his career, it's a little more complicated than that.

GQ’s profile steps around the subject, briefly mentioning that “in addition to the racing opportunities, [Logan’s] Dad had business there.” Unfortunately, business would be an understatement.

At the time, Logan’s dad, Daniel, worked for the family business– an asphalt trading and shipping company named Sergeant Marine. One of the driving forces behind Sergeant Marine’s success would be Daniel’s older brother, Harry.

When Logan’s detractors mention his family’s connections to Trump, they’re usually referencing Harry. The NYT describes his billionaire uncle as “a former [Top Gun] fighter pilot and onetime finance chair of Florida’s Republican Party who has been sued by the brother-in-law of King Abdullah II of Jordan and whose name turned up, tangentially, in the 2020 impeachment of former President Donald J. Trump. (Harry was not accused of any wrongdoing.)”

Harry would leave the company around the time Daniel moved his family to Switzerland. According to The Florida Phoenix, “The entire family was embroiled in a long-running bitter series of lawsuits that ended with a 2015 bankruptcy settlement. Harry III walked away with a cool $56-million. In return he gave up any claim to ownership of Sargeant Marine and other family companies. There were 14 different lawsuits in several states in addition to the bankruptcy. The lawsuits produced salacious testimony that could only arise in a vicious dispute between millionaires. Harry III accused his brother Daniel of spending millions on his sons’ pursuits of race car driving and other ventures. Meanwhile, Daniel accused Sargeant III of being a spendthrift on things such as a $7.5-million mansion, private jets and exotic cars.”

Logan with his dad.

It would, somehow, get worse:

Oil and asphalt mogul Harry Sargeant III claims that industrial design plans along with recordings of "private consensual relations" were purloined from his private email account and traded off to a corporate intelligence agent as part of a years-long smear campaign against him spearheaded by his brother. Reigniting a long-running saga of brother-against-brother litigation, Harry Sargeant III claims that hundreds of pages of business records, personal discussions and "extremely sensitive videos and photographs" were illegally obtained from his email account. The material was used as currency for information-bartering between his brother Daniel Sargeant and a corporate intelligence chief at the nonparty legal service firm Burford, the lawsuit alleges. Harry is demanding damages for alleged invasion of privacy on the part of Daniel. The brothers had in years past worked together on managing the Sargeant family's global oil and asphalt empire, before intra-family disputes began to tear them apart. [...] The lawsuit claims the Burford investigator, a former corporate attorney, knows Harry well. According to the court documents, the investigator for years worked as an enforcement agent on a $28 million judgment secured against Harry by the king of Jordan's brother-in-law Mohammad Al-Saleh, who accused Harry of cutting him out of a deal to distribute oil to troops in the Iraq War. [...] Harry claims brother Daniel gave the corporate intelligence agent the treasure trove of Harry's emails in exchange for inside information that would help the Sargeant family's asphalt company Latin American Investments in a separate multimillion-dollar legal dispute. Harry's underlying email account ran on a server of the family company Sargeant Marine. When he was ousted from the Sargeant empire, Harry had been told that the account was cut off at the root and all information in it had been destroyed, the lawsuit says. The lifted emails were instead provided to an "untold number of people" inside and outside of the family businesses in 2016, the lawsuit claims.

The information that Daniel traded his brother’s sex tape for would end up being useless. Daniel is currently out a $5 million bond and awaiting sentencing for the foreign bribery and money laundering charges he pled guilty to back in 2019. After bribing officials in three South American countries to secure asphalt contracts, the Department of Justice ended up making an example of the company– and Daniel– for violating the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act.

While Logan cites his career as a big reason for the family move, it appears that Sargeant Marine had conveniently made shell companies in Switzerland to aid in their illegal business dealings that same year.

Logan, blissfully unaware of any drama, tries to make the most of the big move. They move to Lugano, Switzerland– Dalton and Logan go to the American School on weekdays and race on the weekends in the European junior circuit, bouncing them between Italy, Switzerland and Britain. In GQ, Logan says:

“I definitely felt like school was a lot more challenging than in Florida,” he recalled. “And we were missing a lot of school, for sure, but that’s part of it with racing. It is what it is.”

Logan loves Switzerland. In his Players’ Tribune article, he says:

We moved into a three-bedroom apartment. It was me, my parents, Dalton, and our dog Roxy, the world traveler. Big difference from Florida. We had a whole new life. I loved Switzerland. I had a lot of good friends at my school there. I can’t explain it, but I just felt more a part of things. Me and my friends were big Chelsea fans, and we’d be hanging out, playing soccer all the time. We played Call of Duty like every other kid in the world.

However… Logan is the only one. Daniel is out doing shady asphalt deals around the world and suing his brother. Dalton moves back to Florida after a year-and-a-half. Their mother follows soon after that. Logan ends up living alone at the school:

Dalton was my older brother, so for as far back as I can remember, I was chasing him. Man, we fought all the time. Every race, we were up against all these other kids, but he was always the one I was really trying to beat. But the thing is, when you’re a kid you miss things. You just can’t see everything so clearly. Like, for instance, being a bit older than me, I think he felt the shift more strongly when we moved, but I didn’t know it. He stayed in Switzerland for a year and a half, did some European karting, and started testing Formula cars. Then one day he just decided he wanted to go home and race in America. I won’t lie, that was a shock at the time. But I get it more now. Making that big life change was hard on my mom, too. Just think, you’re living in this brand new place, don’t have many friends. Me and Dalton were at school all day. My dad was traveling all over the place with work, so he was hardly there. The reality is, she was on her own a lot. So she ended up going back to Florida, too. For about a year and a half after that, it was just me. I was living at the school during that time.

When talking about how his mom moved back to Florida while Logan was living alone in Europe as a teenager, he told the Players’ Tribune that:

Looking back on everything, I just see all the sacrifices they made, and it means so much. No matter what they were going through, my family always pushed me to keep going. I feel like that was probably the hardest for my mom, especially. She means the world to me. She’s a bit of a worrier too, and overthinks. I think I get that from her. She’s always been the person I could go to when I was doubting myself. So I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for her to encourage me to keep going, when I know she probably wanted our family to be together. I’m really grateful, not only that they believed in me that much, to move our entire family, but that they took my passion for driving seriously enough not to let me give it all up.

While Logan’s personal life may be troubled, his karting career is doing exceptionally well. In 2014, he wins the prestigious SuperNats18 in Vegas:

Infinity Sports Management, Facebook - SARGEANT DOMINATES IN LAS VEGAS. Logan Sargeant produced a stunning display last weekend in the TAG Junior category at the Supernationals race in Las Vegas. After finishing runner up in the race in 2013 Logan was eager to go one better this year and bring home the winners trophy. Although Logan got pipped in qualifying he still managed to win every heat ensuring he would start from pole position for the final on Sunday. From there he kept the lead and came home 5.6 seconds clear of the second driver. With this win in TAG Junior Logan become the first driver ever to win the TAG Cadet and TAG Junior categories at the Supernationals race.

2015 manages to be even more exceptional. Logan starts the season by being the first North American driver to win a WSK event by winning the WSK Champions Cup in La Conca, Italy.

Logan with his mother after winning the WSK Champions Cup.

The season reaches its peak with Logan becomes the first American to win an FIA Karting World Championship, the top junior series, since Lake Speed in 1978.

He gets to go to the FIA Awards:

Logan: And I couldn’t thank my mechanic enough. And also my parents, uh, they really helped me to be able to win the world championship and it’s just an amazing feeling. Interviewer: I mean, did you, did you, what did you do when you found out you won? Did you call your friends at home? Did you phone your grandpa? What did you get up to? Logan: Uh, no, I just gave my mom and dad a really big hug. Interviewer: Is it still sinking in now? Logan: Yeah, it’s, it’s a really emotional thing. [...] Interviewer: Tell me about when you were a little bit younger than you are now. You’re only 14 now. But why racing, why, why is this so important to you? Logan: Um, well, my dad bought me a, a racing kart when I was five years old and we started from there. We thought it would just be like a little hobby and, uh, it ended up becoming like a professional thing we did. So. Interviewer: So, so was there a moment when you, when you or your dad just thought ‘Wow, I’m quick. I can do this’? Logan: Um, well, not really. We just kept progressing and then, um, when we, when we decided to come to Europe to race, um, we moved to Switzerland and from then on we were just, uh, going to school, I started going to school in Switzerland. And, yeah, and then we just kept going and then ended up like this. Interviewer: Do you have any other hobbies? Can you fit anything else in? Logan: Um, well, other than school it’s really hard. But when I get my breaks and I go back to Florida for, um, I like to go fishing a lot and, yeah, that’s what I do. Mostly.

When interviewed after his win, Logan tells kart360 that:

Moving away from home is a very hard thing in your own personal life. You lose all of your best friends. You don’t have your "home" and you have to adapt to a different culture. It is hard to move to a country that speaks a different language than what you know, but racing is so important to me that I stuck through it and kept on going.

Logan clearly struggles on a personal level. He discusses his feelings in his Players’ Tribune article, saying:

Coming up racing as a kid isn’t easy. That’s the most honest way I can put it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said to myself, I’m done. I’m ready to come home. I’m glad I didn’t, but there were plenty of times when I wanted to. I remember one big time was the summer right after Dalton went back. We took this trip to the Bahamas with some of our extended family and friends. We were on the water, and everything was feeling like old times. And I think I just had this pit in the bottom of my stomach, like dreading going back. There was a night when I went to my mom, and I was like, “I’m just ready to come home.” I remember her asking me more questions about what I was feeling. I don’t even remember what I said, to be honest. I just remember that she didn’t tell me what to do. She left it completely up to me. My dad used to always say, “If you put in the work now, it’ll pay off eventually — it’ll be worth it.” And he kind of reminded me of that on that trip too. It’ll be worth it. Those four little words … that’s what kept me going. After that I sucked it up, went back to Switzerland, put my head down, and I went for it."

When Logan makes the jump to single seaters the next year, his parents rent him an apartment to live in by himself in London. The only time he’ll spend more than a few weeks in the US since he was a 12-year old would be during COVID.

But Logan’s time in single seaters will be for the next installment.

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Logan through the years.

#logan sargeant #for dori who inspired me to post this <3 #i literally cant look at it anymore or add any more photos or videos or it crashes lol #but i reserve the right to go back and edit this tomorrow lmao

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anthropologyruinseverything · 4 months ago

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“Got You”

Jey Uso x IndigenousFMC

8 chapters- 22k words

🚨It’s so smutty I’m so sorry - no one under 18 plz!

🚨 second alarm, there is a triggering scene but it is an attempted assault that is interrupted - there is a note around it so it is easy to skip!

Just collecting all 4 parts into one loooong post. It’s unedited so I apologize for mistakes and timelines messiness

Summary: Rori Begay is Jey Uso’s nanny. Inappropriate feelings begin to brew between them over lockdown and they try to avoid it. Unfortunately the violence in Rori’s home life boils over and so do their feelings for each other when he comes to her rescue.

Chapter 1:

Aurora POV

“My Rori’s here!” Jason lunged from his father’s arms into mine as soon as I made it through the door of the unassuming but well kept blue house.

“Hey little dude!” I gladly received the three year old, doing my best to avoid touching Josh too much in doing so. Every time we so much as brushed hands it caused a rolling wave of butterflies and warmth. Not unpleasant but also not an appropriate thing to feel for someone who was technically my boss. And the last thing I needed in my life right now was to lose my job, especially over a stupid crush.

Due to the pandemic ramping up Josh was home from his job that normally demanded a lot of travel. Even though he wasn’t traveling he still had commitments and a job that required several hours of training daily in the gym on top of meetings and zoom calls. He’d explained the plan his company had until they could safely begin touring again, a plan that would see them staying here in Florida for several months to a year.

Long enough for me to save up enough to get out of my own place, even if my mother was demanding a high rent. I was glad I’d fibbed about just how much Josh was paying me weekly or she would have demanded even more.

“Swim! Swim! Wanna go swimming!” I juggled the excited toddler in my arms trying not to drop my day bag.

Coming to the rescue Josh grabbed the green backpack and smiled at me in a way that turned my insides to mush. “We gotta eat first little man.”

“Are you free today?” I hoped I didn’t sound as excited as I felt. At first I’d found it odd he still wanted me there even when he wasn’t going to be busy for the day but quickly started to look forward to spending time with both of them.

“Yeah, my meetings were cancelled. I was thinking I’d join y’all for swimming lessons and whatever else you got planned. If that’s cool with you.”

As if I was going to say no.

I looked at Jason with a grin. “Whaddya think? Want Daddy to hang out with us today?”

“Hang out with daddy AND Rori! Swim!”

“What about you?” It was hard not to read too much into his expression or the way his voice seemed to drop a little. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Oh, of course. He’s trying to be considerate of my feelings as a person and I’m drooling at the way his voice changes when he is speaking to another adult. I swallowed my embarrassment and put on a big grin. “Not at all, it’ll be great to hangout! Now how about some breakfast?”

There wasn’t much Jason loved more than swimming but one thing was for certain.

“PANCAKES!”

—-

Jey POV

It did things to me when she called me “Daddy”, even if it was in this context.

Maybe I could get Joe or Braun to hit me in the head next time we’re wrestling.

Really, really hard.

Well, maybe not Braun, I didn’t want to die after all.

I needed some sense knocked back into me around this girl though. I can’t keep my eyes off her and thought about her way too often. She’s only eighteen and I should not be feeling this way about my sons *nanny.* Watching her as she moved around the kitchen, letting little man help her with making breakfast it brought an excited sense of peace.

My eyes dutifully followed the sway of her curvy bottom as she sidestepped small feet with a laugh. I wanted to wind my hands into that waist length brunette hair while I devoured her pouty lips.

Wanted to see her pretty green eyes tear up with those lips wrapped around my dick.

I wanted a lot of things from Miss Aurora Begay.

Isolating was hard, I hadn’t had a chance to go out or hookup with a chick since New Year’s Eve. Maybe that was my problem. She was close, pretty and had a great laugh.

But the truth was I hadn’t wanted someone so bad in a long time. Jason’s mom had burned me pretty hard when she decided she didn’t want to be invested in his life, or mine.

You travel too much she’d said. Come to find out “you travel too much” really meant I’d rather be fucking other dudes in another country.

More power to her. We’d started out casual but when she fell pregnant I’d stepped up and even offered to marry her and let myself get invested. Not the best way to start but I was willing to give it a shot for him.

“How many?”

“Huh?”

Rori pulled me out of my thoughts with a light tough to my shoulder and a giggle. She smiled down at me. “I asked you how many pancakes would you like? I’m using the protein mix.”

Of course she’d ferreted out the healthiest pancakes for someone with my training regime. She was always doing thoughtful shit like that and I loved it. Loved that she would modify things for me, make me a plate or keep one warm for me in the oven when something ran longer than planned.

It was hard not to let all that spill.

She raised her eyebrows. “Josh?”

I’m so fucked.

“Uh, make it four.”

Thirty minutes later and I’m waiting for them the come downstairs. Jason appeared at the top of the steps first in his matching swimming trunks and shirt all decked out with tiger sharks. His favorite animal at the moment. He proudly held up his shark goggles. “Look daddy, I’m a shark!”

In a weird way I was grateful for the lockdown. I’d never been able to spend so much time with him and it made me happier than I’d ever been. “I see little man! Where’s Rori?”

“Coming, sorry!”

Chapter 2 -

Aurora POV

Josh stood at the bottom of the steps in nothing but black swimming trunks. My mouth went dry and heart pounded as I tried not to stare at him while Jason and I made our way downstairs hand in hand. It was tough though, his dark bronze skin and spiraling tattoos were mesmerizing.

He’d given me a cursory glance before looking away and even though I’m not terribly vain, it stung my pride a little. I should be ashamed that I picked the cheap and simple but pretty blue mesh halter and boy short set because I thought be would like it. As if he’d ever look at me the same way I do him.

Tucking the sadness away I padded out to the pool with Jason who was already fighting with his arm floats before he’d made it to the water. “Here let me help-“

The words were cut off by splash of water, my own shriek of surprise and Jason’s shriek of laughter. Josh had blown by us to canon ball into the water before surfacing with a challenging smirk.

It would be hard to ignore the heat pooling between my legs.

Well, until little man threw his arms up and demanded to be thrown in for a big splash that is. Happy to oblige and to cool off I scooped him up and we jumped in. What I’d planned as a swimming lesson turned into lots of laughing and splashing with Jason getting brave enough to paddle back and forth between us a few times.

After a while he was tired and become more preoccupied with making his pool toy shark eat his other action figures. Josh drifted over to where I stood in the shallow water while Jason played nearby on the step. “Hey.”

“Hey?”

“What happened here?” Gently he brought his fingers to a healing bruise on my arm. Anxiety twisted my stomach painfully. I had to come up with something, my mother had trained me to lie about this sort of thing.

“Oh, uh, I just, I just dropped something when I was reaching for a can on a shelf at home. Clumsy, just brought my arm up so it wouldn’t like hit me on the face or anything. Nothing, no worries.” I realized I was rambling when his brow furrowed and he narrowed his eyes.

Fuck. He didn’t need to know mom’s latest boyfriend was a real dick, even for her.

“A can huh?”

The truth was I hadn’t moved fast enough to get out of his way a couple days ago and so he grabbed me by the arm, hard enough to leave those prints, shook me and slung me across the room. Not the first time one of the men she’d brought home had done something similar but no one had ever really paid attention and my mom had threatened me with much worse if I ever told.

“Yeah, just a stupid accident.” I tried to smile reassuringly but could tell it wasn’t working. Josh opened his mouth but fortunately for me, little man chose then to pounce, throwing himself at us with abandon only a happy toddler could achieve.

“Make splashes Rori!”

“You sure did! How about we get dried off and go watch a movie?” I was grateful for the distraction. Hopefully he would let it go.

—-

Jey POV

Late that night I laid in bed scrolling through photos from the last few weeks, looking for clues and wracking my brain for an explanation. Aurora had never lied to me before and I should have her drug tested if she thought I bought that story about the can. I know what a bruise from someone gripping you too tightly looks like. Why was she being so evasive about it?

*Does she have a boyfriend? Some little shit who thinks he’s tough?*

An intense anger erupted in my chest at the thought of anyone putting their hands on her. In any way. Thinking about her kissing someone else, *fucking* someone else, made me physically sick.

I resolved to get the the bottom of it. Why weren’t her parents doing anything about it? Did they notice?

Wait. Does she live with them?

It dawned on me that I know next to nothing about her or her living situation. Most of our conversations revolve around Jason or the chores or how my day had been or what I wanted for dinner. I knew she was a college student and we’d chatted about a few times about things like music or movies or my job but never had she mentioned her family or friends or relationships at all, except one girl named Jamie. And all I knew about her was that they’d seen a movie together recently.

I’d snapped a few pictures today. Only one of just her but that was the one I settled on looking at. She stood mid thigh in the pool, her golden skin wet and the red of her messy bun stood out in the sunlight. The swimsuit wasn’t too revealing but I’d almost embarrassed myself. Seeing her coming down the steps it that simple but sexy outfit had me at half mast in no time, I’d had no choice but to hustle my ass into the cold pool or risk her noticing.

Looking at the picture now I had the same problem, my cock twitching to life at the thought of tasting her everywhere. Closing my eyes I dropped my phone and let myself pull my boxers down. Picturing her sweet smile I imagined she was there with me, straddling my waist, her walls clenched tightly around me.

Slowly I started stroking myself, imaginary Aurora’s movements were careful and shy and gentle, just like everything else about her. Her small hands braced against my chest, fingers digging in as her cheeks flushed with pleasure and she panted in need.

*”Daddy, please.”*

Increasing my pace I imagined taking control, clutching her hips and bracing myself with my ankles as I thrust up at a much more aggressive pace. My knees drew up and I clutched the sheet with my free hand as her cries filled my ears.

*”Harder Daddy, yes yes! I’m gonna cum!”*

I didn’t fight the groan that rose in my throat as I sped up even more. It was my fantasy and we would finish together.

“Fuck Rori, baby…” I bit my lip when I came, spilling hot ropes of cum onto my stomach as my hips bucked and twitched. For a few seconds I lay there panting.

I’d lost count of how many times I’d gotten off this exact same way now. I knew I should stop but it was becoming something of an obsession. It wouldn’t be the first time in my life I’d developed a fixation, just not quite so focused in on a particular female before.

I hoped it would pass when the lockdowns lifted and I could go out again but deep inside I knew that wouldn’t be the case.

No, something about those big hazel eyes and loving personality had dug itself deep inside me. I swiped at the mess I’d made with my shirt before throwing it in the hamper in the corner of the room. A twisted part of me hoped she’d notice when she did laundry and wonder if I was thinking about her but the realistic part of me would kick in and handle the mess in the morning.

Settling in to the covers I hoped she was comfortable and safe, wherever she was.

Chapter 3

Aurora POV -

I didn’t mind biking the thirty minutes from the trailer park where I lived to the nice suburb. Being alone with my music and a direction was meditative. This morning however it wasn’t as nice as usual. Unable to stand for leverage I was moving slower than usual, my injured right side making the whole process more difficult.

Janine’s latest catch, ‘Paul’, was becoming increasingly violent. I did my best to stay out of his way but the two bedroom single wide trailer was tiny, cramped and rundown. Most of my time at home was spent locked up in my bedroom, venturing out only to fix everyone dinner or use the restroom.

Not long now and I would be able to afford a deposit for a room somewhere. I let daydreams of the day I left that place forever fuel me through the pain in my ribs and ankle. I’d gotten distracted, inadvertently letting the dinner pot boil over. Paul took offense and sent me to the floor with a nasty shove before a swift kick to the ribs. I’d scrambled to my feet and limped to my room, slamming the door shut and locking it behind me. A fresh wave of anxiety shuddered through me.

I planned to ask Josh today if he would show me a few things I could do to be stronger and defend myself better. It might rouse his suspicions but I was just going to tell him a half truth, I wanted to be safe when I returned to campus someday. That was a safe and believable excuse in my mind.

Taking a deep breath I tried to force myself to walk normally in spite of the sharp pain that came with each step. Maybe I was naive to think I could disguise my injuries but I was going to try.

Answering the door rather quickly he welcomed me in and our day progressed as usual. Fortunately for me Josh had to tend to those cancelled meetings and would be busy until lunch time. I thought I had it under control with some Tylenol but was proven wrong.

Jason wanted a specific shark cup and plate set that was stored on a high shelf. Normally pulling out the little step stool and grabbing those things wouldn’t have been an issue.

Normally.

When I tried to put weight on that right ankle it gave and I yelped, falling backwards fully expecting to land hard on the kitchen tile.

Instead a strong pair of arms encircled my middle and I made contact with a hard, warm chest instead of cold, unforgiving floor. The pressure on my ribs hurt and I gasped, clutching at Josh’s forearms.

“Rori!” Jason’s alarmed voice hit my ears and I immediately tried to right myself and go to him but struggling against the hold hurt too much.

“It’s okay kiddo, I got her. Where are you hurt? Other than your foot?”

“Ribs.” It hurt to take in a breath to speak.

Nodding he maneuvered one arm under my knees and one under my shoulders, easily hefting me up into his arms. “I got you.”

I wanted to curl into a ball and never look at him again, this was too embarrassing. Settling me in a chair at the kitchen table he took a very clinical approach to examining my ankle and ribs. If I hadn’t been so upset the feeling of his fingers dancing on my rib cage would have made me dizzy. He let me catch my breath before asking the dreaded question.

“What happened Rori?” Josh sounded calm and collected as he went to retrieve an ice pack. Passing it to me he set about fixing lunch while waiting patiently for an answer.

“I tripped walking up my steps last night and fell. Nothing major, just some bruises.”

“You’re lucky they’re not broken.” My stomach dropped. It sounded like he was scolding me.

“Rori okay?”

“Yeah little man, I’m all good! Just an accident, no big deal!” I raised my hands in the air and smiled at Jason who looked relieved before going back to playing with his toys.

Josh set lunch on the table, ravioli, before collecting the little boy and depositing him in his booster seat next to me. Sitting down on my other side all of his moments were stiff. “You wouldn’t lie to me would you?”

My palms went sweaty and my heart pounded. I hoped my panic didn’t show on my face. Not trusting my voice I shook my head no and stuffed a piece of pasta in my mouth, making a pleased sound. I swallowed the food and the emotion all in one go. “No. I’m so sorry. It shouldn’t stop me from what I need to do again.”

“It’s fine. You rode your bike here yeah?”

I nodded and shoveled another bite in my mouth to avoid talking.

“Me and Jason are gonna drive you home this afternoon, once my meetings are done.”

A fresh wave of panic rolled through me. “No-no, please you don’t have to do that.”

“You’re in no shape to be riding your bike anywhere.” His voice was so cold. It made me want to cry.

“I don’t want to be a pain. I can ride the bus-“

Jason and I both jumped when Josh slapped the table. He seemed to catch himself before slamming it with full force but still made a loud noise. Quickly he looked at his son with a grin to ease any fear the little boy had.

But when he turned to me I could see it didn’t reach his eyes. His expression flattened out and it was like he was reigning himself back in.

I squeezed my thighs together as a confusing rush of emotions hit me. Fear of the consequences since I’d angered him and a strange flash of arousal that felt out of place but there it was all the same.

“Don’t argue with me.”

“Yes sir.”

—

Jey POV

Sitting through these afternoon meetings around the new Bloodline merchandise was torture. I’d never been a fan of this side of the job anyway and whatever was going on with Aurora was eating at me. Had I been a little bit of a bully and let my anger win for a minute? Absolutely but it will get me what I want which is some more information.

I was pretty sure someone was hurting her at home or she had a boyfriend. Thinking through my options I texted my twin who was also on the zoom call looking like he’d rather eat a shoe than look at yet another piece of concept art.

‘**Can yall take little man this weekend?**

I watched him respond on the call.

**’Yeah, you got something to do?’**

**Yeah**

It wasn’t often that I hid things from Jon but he didn’t need to know I was planning on essentially stalking my barely legal nanny for a couple of days. I sure as hell didn’t want to see Trinity’s face if she found out. But I had to know what was going on and figure out how to help her.

As of right now my plan was little more than to storm in, beat the ever living shit out of whoever I needed to, sweep her up and move her into my home and bed permanently. Far from foolproof but it was a work progress.

Finally the meeting came to a close. Heading downstairs I took a few deep breaths to make sure I had my temper fully back under control. It had been hard not to shake her by the shoulders and demand she tell me the truth so I’d settled on slapping the table for emphasis. I’d instantly felt like a jerk when both Jason and Aurora jumped in fear but we’d recovered.

The sounds of their laughter came from the kitchen, she was letting Jason ‘help’ her make pizza for dinner. Looked more to me like she was chasing the veggies he threw every which direction except at the dough in front of him but I enjoyed watching them together all the same. She genuinely seemed to enjoy spending time with him and he loved her already, taking to calling her “my Rori”. Clearing my throat to announce my presence I felt a stab of regret when anxiety fell over her face and she quieted instantly. Jason on the other hand clambered down from the step stool and rushed over, arms outstretched.

“Daddy! Look, making pizzas!” He waved excitedly towards where Rori leaned against the counter next to the bowls of ingredients. I tried to smile reassuringly at her but she just ducked her head, hiding her face with her hair.

“Nice, want some extra help Rori?” Jason was already trying to get down and back into the mix so I let him. It wasn’t the nicest thing, forcing her to talk to me, but she’ll learn to speak up for herself in time.

She would have to as my woman. I don’t know exactly when I decided that was going to happen but here we are.

Finally glancing up at me she bit her lip nervously. “Yes sir.”

An image of her doing that while on her knees in front of me flashed through my mind. I liked that a little too much, liked this oddly submissive behavior. It told me a lot to, her response to my anger. Fawning is what they call it, if I recalled the therapist correctly.

I stepped into her space deliberately, causing her to shy away from my hand. Persisting I gently caught her chin with my thumb and forefinger making her eyes go wide. Tempting as it was to push further and run my thumb over her abused lip I settled for making her look at me.

“M’sorry I scared you earlier.”

She blinked, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “You’re what?”

I snorted. “Girl I’m tryin to apologize to you. Pay attention.”

To her credit she recovered quickly. “I’m sorry, I am. I - it’s okay. Let’s get these pizzas in the oven.”

She pulled away but before I saw her pulse pounding in her neck and her eyes dilate. It was obvious she was into what I was doing. Perfect.

A little over an hour later found us loading up her bike into the back of my truck and heading down the highway. It never ceased to amaze me what being on either side of the highway could look like. Some trailer parks were nice with well kept homes, flowers and friendly neighbors. Some were like ‘Martin’s Cove’ complete with meth trailers, cars on blocks and folks toting guns in the waist bands of their jeans. I bristled at the thought of leaving her here but dutifully got out to retrieve her bike once we’d pulled up to #37.

An ugly white man stood on the porch with a stupid look on his face. I hated him. Rori’s face showed a flicker of fear when her eyes landed on him and I wanted to kill him. I had a feeling I knew who was leaving the bruises. I held onto her bike when she went to take it from me.

“Uh, Josh? I got it. Thank you so much again.” I could feel my blood pounding in my ears. The man hadn’t spoken but hadn’t looked away from Aurora either.

“Promise to call if you ever need help.” She tilted her head but must have remembered earlier today.

“Okay, I promise.”

I nodded. “I’ll pull up at eight.”

It made me physically sick to let her walk away but I did it. Once they’d both gone inside I pulled away. Jason fell asleep before we made it home so I got him tucked into bed and set about putting a bag together for his stay at his aunt and uncles this weekend.

I was too worried to sleep well, knowing full well she could be in trouble. Instead I found myself praying whatever gods or ancestors might be listening. The morning couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter 4

Aurora POV

I stood on the embarrassingly cluttered porch the following morning at 7:30 A.M. Janine and Paul were still in bed. Much to my surprise they hadn’t questioned me in depth, instead disappearing into her room after I made their dinner. I checked the calendar, it was the third.

Ah, her disability check had come in. They’d be flush with drugs for a couple days.

Great, that usually meant they’d leave me alone. And they had. Looking back at the front door yet again, it felt as if it were going to open and swallow me. That’s how it felt to walk into this house, like I was being eaten by a beast snd may never claw my way out.

Turning back I settled on the steps, flipping through my music. “Dirty Thoughts” started playing and I felt a flush start up my neck remembering what I’d done listening to this song last night. After securing my door that lacked a proper lock I’d lain in bed playing my interactions with Josh over in my head. Mostly the feeling of his thick arms and hard chest and calloused hands.

Only a few times, mostly due to lack of privacy, did I indulge the growing heat between my legs. Thinking about Josh had made the throbbing ache there unbearable and when I slid my fingers below the elastic waistband of my underwear I found myself soaked. While still very much a virgin I’d read enough romance novels to know what my body wanted from him. My heart and mind did too but they were a lot harder to make happy.

Carefully I’d started to feel myself, fingers dipping into my wet slit to awkwardly circle my clit while my other hand cupped a breast, lightly playing over a sensitive nipple. My inexperience was a pain though and after a few moments of awkward strokes I was worse off than before I started. Annoyed at myself for struggling I switched tactics to what I knew would provide at least a little relief.

Grabbing my ancient pillow I shoved it between my legs, balled up and pressed tightly to the small bud I was struggling to figure out. Closing my eyes I’d imagined sitting on his lap, straddling one of his big thighs while his hands cupped my bottom and his voice, deep and husky with want, encouraged me to move.

*”C’mon girl, that’s it. Move for Daddy.”*

It shamed me to think of him that way but I was so lost to the feeling it didn’t stick. Doing as imaginary Josh instructed I ground against the pillow, desperately seeking the short but intense flashes of pleasure it brought. If I did it long and hard enough I’d get a sharp spike that would somewhat ease the tension filling my body. It was nothing like “rolling waves” I read about but it did the trick and wore me out enough to sleep.

The sound of his truck rumbling up pulled me out of my memory and I stood, checking the time. 7:40 A.M., he was early. I needed to get myself under control, this crush was a distraction I didn’t need. What I needed was to get the hell out of this place before things escalated further and finish my degree.

And yeah I wanted kids and a husband and all that lovely stuff but I wasn’t naive enough to believe that Josh was the guy. He smiled at me, opening the passenger door and ushering me in. My heart did a cartwheel in my chest.

He had his choice of anyone. It would never be me and I was alright with that.

It didn’t stop me from wishing it were though.

“My Rori!” Jason’s voice was music to my ears. It was just Josh I’d fallen hard for after all. The toddler waving happily from his car seat in the back lit up my world and motivated me to get out of bed some mornings when I was depressed.

“Hey little man!” I smiled at him before turning to Josh as he pulled out of our driveway. This felt so normal and nice it was almost enough to make me forget where we were driving away from.

“Mornin. How was your night?” I noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

I blushed in spite of myself. “It was good. How about you?”

Josh raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on the red in my cheeks. “S’fine.”

I mulled over my idea about asking for his help while chattering along with Jason. I’d couched the idea when he was so stern yesterday but he didn’t seem angry any longer and had apologized after all. By the time we pulled into the driveway I’d made up my mind. I spoke before he could open the door.

“Hey, Josh?”

“Hmm?” He tilted his head my way.

“Could-is it okay to ask- because if not I understand-“

“It’s fine just ask your question baby.”

My brain shorted out for a split second. He’s tired, don’t overthink it.

“Can you show me how to like, get stronger? And maybe how to, ya know, throw a punch? For when I go back to campus.” I bit my lip nervously, his expression was so neutral it was impossible to know what he was thinking.

Josh reached over to give my knee a squeeze and my warmth flooded through me. It was so quick I wondered if I’d imagined it but the genuinely warm half smile said otherwise.

“Hell yeah I’ll show you some stuff.”

My heart pounded as I followed the boys inside. I have to get a grip, he’s just being nice. A single quick squeeze doesn’t mean he’s into me.

I noticed the bag of Jason’s things on the couch and my heart dropped. If he was going somewhere else I may not have work for a while.

“Is little man going somewhere?”

“Yeah, my brother’s coming by to get him later, just for the weekend. I’m gonna get some sleep but we can workout some this afternoon, if you’re up for starting now. Just have to work around what’s hurtin.”

My heart soared. “Great, thank you so much.”

——

Jey POV

It was easy to sleep knowing she was safe downstairs with Jason and I made up for what I lost the night before. In my dreams Rori was beneath me, writhing in

pleasure while her fingernails dug into my shoulders and her lips whispered my name over and over like a prayer. Her voice got louder the closer she came to orgasm and I ground into her harder and harder.

“Josh…Josh…Hey Josh?”

Her voice went from thick with pleasure to confusingly loud. Slowly I became aware of someone shaking my shoulder.

“Huh?”

There was a soft giggle from next to me as the bed dipped a little. I realized the object of my dreams was sitting next to me nudging my shoulder. At the same time I realized I had a raging hard on.

“Jon’s here, figured you’d want to say bye to Jason before they took off.”

Shit was it after five already?

I had to get rid of her so I could get this under control. “Yeah. Be right there.”

When I didn’t move immediately she jumped up and ran like she’d been scalded. Maybe she realized she may have crossed a line coming in here, even if it was to get me up for something important.

I couldn’t wait to cross a hell of a lot more lines with her in this room.

But right this minute I needed to get myself presentable, something easy enough to achieve, at least temporarily, with a few deep breaths and splashing some ice cold water on my face.

Loading Jason into the car didn’t take long, he always loved staying with his cousins. Hugging him one last time I stepped back. My brother looked at me from the drivers seat, clearly wanting an explanation. Clapping his shoulder I smiled. “Thanks, got a leak and it’ll just be a lot easier to have guys out to fix it without him under my feet.”

The suspicion in his face melted away and we said our goodbyes. I’d miss Jason but I was excited about “working out” with Aurora, all alone. Not to mention I’d finally have a good chance to question her some. She stood in the kitchen tying up her hair when I walked back in.

“You ready?”

Aurora swallowed but nodded and I noticed her eyes flicker over me. My cock twitched, it was hot thinking she wanted me too. I still needed to clarify whether or not she had a boyfriend and while I couldn’t be certain it was that weird guy at her house who was hurting her I was pretty confident that was the case.

“Good, c’mon.” Leading her into the gym I flicked the lights on.

About 45 minutes later and she flopped on the floor, panting but smiling. Turns out she could throw a decent punch already. Settling behind her on my knees I let my hands fall on her shoulders and waited to see what she would do. Aurora stiffened but didn’t pull away so I slowly began to knead the muscles.

“You did good.” I don’t know if it was my fingers or my words that did it but she moaned softly, her cheeks blushing.

“Thank you.” Her voice was soft and shy.

Continuing up her neck I was gentle as I worked the tension there, surprised at just how tight she was. I decided to get down to what I wanted to know. “Got a boyfriend Rori?”

She blinked her pretty hazel eyes before huffing out a nervous laugh. “A boyfriend? No.”

Relieved, I let that concern go. “Aight. I didn’t think that guy in the porch yesterday was him but ya know, wanted to make sure.” I dug my fingers in a little harder and she drew in a breath with a gasp. My thumbs worked their way down her shoulder blades and her eyes drifted closed. Her muscles quivered under the threadbare tshirt she wore but my eyes were trained on the wet skin of her jaw and neck. I imagined what it would taste like to run my tongue along them in a long stroke.

“Nah, that’s just my mom’s latest boyfriend.”

“Latest?” I didn’t like the sound of that and based on where they lived I doubted these were high quality men drifting in and out of their lives. Already I hated this woman for putting Aurora in danger.

“Yeah, she’s just…I don’t know. She’s got some issues.” Aurora trailed off and I debated how hard to push. This was more than I’d gotten out of her before but I didn’t want her to shut down if I asked the wrong thing. I kept massaging her neck, working my way a little lower to her collar bone and she didn’t resist.

“How’s that feel?”

“Mmm, good.” Just when I thought she was really going to relax into me her phone buzzed. I hated the way she looked panicked when she opened the message. “Oh no, it’s getting really late, I should go.”

Reluctantly I let her stand and got to my feet as well. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.”

Her nerves seemed to get worse and worse during the car ride. Every instinct in me screamed to make her stay, to not drop her off at that trailer. Something bad was going to happen and I knew it.

This time I reached over her to stop her from opening the door with one hand and grabbed her knee with the other. “Aurora look at me.”

She was startled but did as I asked.

“You don’t have to get out of this truck. But if you do, just promise to call me if you’re in trouble.” For a second I thought she was going to stay or maybe burst into tears. Instead she took a deep breath and smiled at me but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I promise. Again.”

I squeezed her leg one more time before sitting back and letting her go. Something screamed at me to stop her but I didn’t.

I’d regret that sooner than later.

Chapter 5

Aurora POV -

I knew something was up the minute I walked in the front door, a sixth sense of sorts from years of living with a volatile drug addict. My heart skipped a beat when I realized my mother was in the dingy kitchenette stirring away at something on the stove. She never cooked anymore and anything out of the ordinary was cause for concern.

“Oh you’re home, I wondered if we’d see you tonight.”

Stomach twisting I approached her carefully. I’d only responded to her message five times apologizing for being late. “I’m sorry mama, I had to stay late for work.”

“You’re sure it was just for work? I didn’t see a baby in the car today.” Of course she’d been watching from the windows.

“Yes mama, Mr. Fatu offered me rides and I felt rude saying no.” Her face pinched but she recovered into a smile. I could feel the dread building in my lower spine.

“Go sit down honey, dinner is ready and Paul just pulled up with his friend.” Almost anyone else would have written her words off as a normal statement but from her it was a threat, I just didn’t know for what.

“Yes ma’am.”

Paul came clattering in followed closely by another white man who looked meaner and uglier than him. He smiled when he saw me, licking his chapped lips from behind a patchy beard. I shivered in disgust.

“This here is Danny. Aurora, be nice and say hi.” Awkwardly I waved, in fear of what would happen if I didn’t.

He looked at Paul with his beady, murky blue eyes. “She always quiet?”

Paul nodded. “Whaddya think?”

Danny smirked. “How much did you say?”

My heart plummeted to my feet as I stood. “What’s going on?”

All three other people stopped what they were doing. Danny looked amused and Paul looked at my mother expectantly. She came to pat my shoulder with a fake, cold smile.

“Well since you’ve been whoring yourself to your boss we figured you wouldn’t mind if we set you up with some new clients. And this way we make sure we get our cut, fair and square.” Her voice was so calm, mocking me with how caring and sweet she sounded even though her words were poison.

My jaw fell open and my stomach heaved. I couldn’t believe what just was hearing.

“I’m not sleeping with my boss!”

She’d sunk low before but this was completely unreal. I couldn’t believe she would actually agree to pimp me out.

“So, uh, where we gonna do this?” Danny reminded me of his presence.

I wanted to claw the nasty man’s eyes out and run. To where?

*Josh.*

“We’re not! Mom, tell him this is ridiculous, you can’t be serious!”

Pulling out my phone I got off a single message to Josh before Paul was snatching for it.

“SOS” with an alarm emoji.

^^^Trigger warning for attempted SA scene^^^

“Her bedroom is that way.” I’d never hated her so much as I did in that moment when she pointed down the narrow hall.

“No! Mom! Mom!” I shrieked as each man grabbed an arm and begin pulling me.

Danny snarled when I twisted and landed a nasty blow between my shoulders, sending me to the floor. He looked at Paul who gave me another swift kick to the side. “Didn’t tell me you hadn’t broken her in yet.”

“I’ll let you have the next session for free if you wanna help with that.”

With a shrug the other man grabbed my wrist and pulled hard in spite of my struggling. Throwing me onto my rickety twin bed I scrambled, trying to get to a weapon but he was already laying into me with the leather belt he’d pulled from around his waist. My ancient tshirt gave way easily under his hands, giving him direct access to the flesh of my back and shoulders. Blows rained down, burning so fiercely my eyes stung with tears. I curled into the fetal position, covering my head and trying to escape the worst of it.

He stopped hitting me to wrap the leather strap around my wrists and flipped me onto my abused back. Kicking at him didn’t do much even with my healthy ankle. I was tired and sore from the injuries and work out Josh had put me through earlier. My strength to fight was waining fast but I couldn’t just give up. Danny responded to a kick in the shoulder with a powerful punch to the stomach, making me gag and cough.

My jeans didn’t come off as easily as my tshirt but he managed with a few vicious yanks. I didn’t know how to get out of this. Closing my eyes I tried to picture Josh, Jason, my friends, my school, anything to get away from the gut wrenching reality of what was happening. My mother had sold me to this man and his awfully slimy hands were running up my thighs and over my ribs to squeeze my breasts with so much force it tore a lot sob of pain out of my chest.

End of triggering scene

And then, with a yelp of pained surprise, he was gone. For a few seconds all I could hear was the thundering of my pulse but once my body realized he was no longer bearing down on me my senses began to adjust. Shouts and thuds from the living room went on for a few more moments before a particularly nasty sounding crash and then it all went quiet. Unsure of what was going on I remained where I was, shaking and trying to get a grip on my breathing.

Finally I could hear a voice speaking clearly. A voice I knew.

“Don’t move you fuckin cunt.”

Josh appeared in the doorway of my tiny and now destroyed room looking every inch the enraged hero he was. With what strength I had left I launched myself into his arms and he met me halfway, scooping me up and holding me against his chest tightly while I buried my face in his neck.

He pressed his lips to the top of my head and spoke softly. “Do you need anything at all from here?”

I shook my head, unable to form words. With shaking hands he pulled the belt from around my wrists and threw it. Snatching the thin blanket he wrapped it around my shoulders before standing, holding me up bridal style. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders I leaned into him like I never had another.

I’d needed him and there he was.

He’d *saved* me.

The carnage in the living room was testament to his anger. Both men were laid out in the remains of the broken kitchen table, Danny bleeding from a head wound onto the floor. The door had been kicked in and Josh walked through splinters from the flimsy piece of fake wood he’d demolished like he owned the place. My mother sat wordlessly on the couch, her eyes wide in terror as she watched him stalk across the room and out the door.

I wouldn’t remember being bundled or being carried into the house or being carefully dressed in his clothes.

All the rest I would remember from that night came as Josh tucked me into bed next to him, his arms wound tightly around me as he whispered comforting words. Turning slightly I let my heart take the lead for once in my life.

Pressing my lips to his softly as I touched his face I said the only thing I could think of.

“Thank you.”

Reciprocating my kiss gently he held me tighter still. “S’okay now, Daddy’s got you.”

——

Jey POV

My plan may not have been foolproof but it had worked and Rori would never be going back to that awful place. Each time she woke up crying and screaming for me it wrenched my heart and made me murderous at the same. I hoped I’d done permanent damage and seriously considered going back to make sure the job was done.

While I’d let her go I hadn’t gone far, just pulling off the road about a mile away to mull over my options. Banging on the trailer door within minutes after getting her text her mother had creaked it open and tried to tell me to mind my own business and go away.

So I’d done the logical thing and kicked the damn thing as hard as I could, flimsy wood exploding everywhere on impact. Even as angry as I was I wouldn’t hurt a woman but Rori’s sad excuse for a mother didn’t know that. I’d sent her down to the couch with a relatively soft shove, at least compared to what I did to her man, and fear did the rest.

Paul got a firm right to the jaw before a couple swift kicks to the ribs just to show him how it felt. The other male, whose name I didn’t bother to learn, was dealt a couple body blows and some well aimed shots to the face before I threw him head first through their shitty table. The irony of that was the only part of the whole ordeal that made my mouth twitch to remember.

Just because I only pretended to throw hands on television didn’t mean I couldn’t fuck someone up for real if I decided to.

Aurora stirring in my arms got my attention. At first she burrowed deeper into my side, her cheek pressed into my collarbone. Thankfully it seemed like she was just waking up naturally rather than being scared awake by a nightmare. Ten hours punctuated by several rounds of panic wouldn’t be nearly enough to fully recover but maybe I could get her to eat something or shower before sleep claimed her again. Pressing my lips to her forehead I smiled and tried to be reassuring. “Hey sleepy head.”

She jumped so hard it was like I’d electrocuted her and I immediately felt bad for breaking the spell. Tumbling out of the bed Aurora yelped in pain when she hit the dark wood floor. Not what I had been expecting. Kicking the covers off my own legs I knelt down next to her and touched her leg gently. Her hazel eyes were blown wide and she looked a little dazed.

“Hey, hey you with me baby?”

Her throat moved as she swallowed and it looked uncomfortable. “I- Jesus Christ.” Burying her face in her hands she began to sob. Hard, heaving cries from deep in her chest. Pulling her into my lap I let her cling to me and cry it out. I could only imagine how she must feel.

I wasn’t sure how long we sat there with her fist balled into my shirt and her tears soaking it but my left foot had gone completely numb by the time her sobs quieted into hiccups.

“She sold me.” I hated hearing her normally lyrical accent so hoarse and broken. She’d never cry so hard again, I’d make sure of it.

“I know baby girl.” I was very gentle with where I rubbed her arms and sides, minding as best I could all the places she was bruised.

“Why? I was paying her rent, she could have just asked for more money. I could have got another job. I could have worked nights or-or-“

“Aurora.” She paused and I cupped her chin, gently making her look at me. “There was nothing you coulda done. That’s greed baby, greed and addiction.”

Her eyes welled with fresh tears and she sniffed. “She’s gonna be so mad.”

As realization took hold I could see the panic in her swell. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, I don’t - I haven’t been able to get a room somewhere yet and she’s not gonna let me come back after that. Not unless…” Her voice dropped off and she shuddered.

I waited another beat to make sure she was done talking. “You don’t need to worry.”

She swiped a hand across her eyes. “What do you mean? I’m - this is so inappropriate Mr. Fatu.”

Barking a laugh I pulled her in and dropped another kiss on her forehead before moving to each of her cheeks and then the tip of her nose. “Since when do you call me that? And I mean I’m gonna take care of you from now on but you better start listenin or I’mma spank that fine ass.”

Not the most ‘appropriate’ thing to say but it had the desired effect and she let out a little laugh in spite of her self. Aurora sobered quickly though, worrying her lip and looking up at me through those long lashes. “I didn’t think you saw me that way.”

I shifted, trying to get some feeling back in my foot. “Yeah.” Now it was my turn to feel a little nervous. “Was I wrong thinking you felt that way?”

Maybe I had been wrong taking that little kiss as confirmation.

But I didn’t need to worry. Aurora shook her head emphatically. “No, I do. I have, since like, I started. It’s just that everything over the last few days barely feels real, ya know?”

That made sense. Trauma, especially something so violent and unexpected could shake your mental state up pretty badly. “Makes sense. But hey, I know what I’m feeling right this minute.”

She leaned back to look at me. “Yeah? Gonna share?”

Having finally regained feeling in my foot, I stood up with her in my arms and she reflexively wrapped her arms around my neck. “Hungry. I want breakfast.”

She laughed and hugged me tightly as I carried her to the kitchen.

——

Chapter 6

Aurora POV

Most of the day passed in a blur, I was so tired and slept a lot but Josh had made sure I got what I needed, only leaving my side when I took a shower.

I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin was raw, possessed by an urgent need to purge the feeling of Danny’s hands on my body. Closing my eyes I tried to let the water ease the ache I could feel so deep it was like it was in my bones and focus on the positive.

Focus on Josh.

My heart fluttered when I thought about how it felt to be safe in his embrace and the feel of his lips. I was so used to everything being temporary or untrustworthy it was hard not to feel anxiety about it too. Well, more so that he would come to his senses and send me back there. I tightened my arms around myself when it was like my whole body rebelled at the notion.

I’d sleep in a dumpster before I went back there.

That thought sent off a fresh wave of fears and stresses I just couldn’t deal with in the moment. I found myself wanting nothing more than to curl up into Josh’s arms and beg for it all to go away. As if he could read my thoughts a gentle knocking on the door interrupted the free fall into disassociation.

“You okay?” He sounded worried.

I turned off the water, unaware it had progressively gone cold and stepped out, noticing the time on the wall clock. It was eleven, I’d been in here for almost an hour. My whole body warmed at the thought of his concern, mitigating the chill a little bit. I wasn’t used to someone worrying about me.

“Yeah…I just realized I don’t have any clothes though.” I felt young and stupid and vulnerable. Like a child who had forgotten their away bag for a sleepover and was too scared to tell anyone.

“I got you, so long as you don’t mind wearing my stuff again. We can take care o’the rest tomorrow.”

Wrapping myself in a towel I opened the door enough to receive the bundle of clothes he held. A makeshift tank top of his and pair of basketball shorts. It made me smile to myself to think of him chopping up tshirts various ways before his matches. The shorts were a no go, they wouldn’t stay up unless I had something to secure them. I’d have to settle for the shirt and the only ancient pair of panties I had from…that place. Not home. I’d never think of it as home again.

I loved being enveloped by his smell though, just wearing this made me feel safer and more relaxed. Another idea flitted through the back of my mind. One that would surely help me forget Danny and his slimy hands.

Instead of continuing to try and figure out how to get the shorts to stay up, I folded them up. Hesitantly I stepped into the hallway to find him waiting, scrolling on his phone.

His coffee colored eyes swept over me from head to toe and I couldn’t fight the blush I felt blooming. He straightened and I held out the shorts. “I’m sorry, they won’t stay up.”

Josh didn’t speak right away but licked his lips and blinked before looking from my exposed thighs to the floor as he took the garment back and tossed them unceremoniously. When he did talk it was low and soft. “S’okay. You don need to apologize all the time anymore baby.”

My brain was scrambled but hormones were a hell of a thing. I just wanted a little piece of good amid the crazy. Fuck it, what do I have to lose by teasing him a little? “Or what? You gonna spank me for that too?”

His head snapped up with a surprised expression that shifted quickly into a predatory smirk and my breath caught in my throat. When he stepped into my space, crowding me back against the doorframe I wasn’t even aware of the pain from the bruises but focused solely on him instead. Leaning down so our noses touched he never broke eye contact when he answered in a heated whisper.

“Baby girl, Daddy’s gonna spank you for all sorts of things and you gonna beg for more.” Bringing a hand up he cupped my chin and slid a thumb over my bottom lip, dipping into my mouth just a little. “And more. Once you’re feelin better you’ll be screaming for mercy all night, every night.”

I was pretty sure I was going to faint. Fear and need crashed through me together with an overwhelming intensity, the throb between my legs for him roared to life with a vengeance. All I could muster was a whimper and he chuckled softly.

“Gotta be careful what games you play baby, I always win.”

Now that sparked something defiant in me. An aroused defiance, but defiance all the same. I wanted to show him I could play too, this felt good and it worked towards my plan of making me forget all about yesterday.

I pressed my body into his, my nipples becoming hard and sensitive with the friction from pressing into his chest. My arms encircled his neck and his eyes widened in surprise. A hard lump rose against my belly as I tried to get my hips closer to him somehow, seeking relief for my aching pussy. Josh seemed a little uncertain but his arms came around my middle, melding us together nicely.

I didn’t know the right way to ask for what I wanted so I’d just have to go for it. “I want you.”

Simple and to the point.

He groaned, deep in his chest and started peppering kisses down my jaw and neck before retracing the path with a languid stroke of his tongue. My head spun and my hands clutched at his shoulders. I whimpered when his teeth grazed my neck, it felt so good it chased away the doubts and fears, replacing them with blind want and need. In this moment I’d do anything to be closer still.

Josh pressed a knee between my legs, making my head fall back with a gasp. Memories of my fantasy about riding his thigh caused a fresh rush of heat to my core and I ground against him with a helpless abandon. One of his big hands tunneled into my hair and then his lips were crushing mine, tongue thrusting between my teeth to explore and coax my own into action.

The hand not controlling my head began to slide up my thigh, I could feel his strength as he massaged his way up to my hip. Once there, he dug in hard.

Directly into a bruise.

I cried out against his mouth as my body went rigid in an unexpected flash of pain. He let go instantly with a curse but wrapped his arms around me to comfort me. Gritting my teeth against the hurt I pressed my face into his shirt and gave a frustrated whine. I felt him take a deep breath before he spoke.

“I’m sorry baby.”

Wrapping my own arms around him I gave his middle a squeeze, my voice mumbled against his chest. “Not your fault.”

He sighed and pulled back, looking down at me with a soft smile he ran a hand over my hair in a comforting gesture. “Needed to slow down anyway. You ain’t in the right place right now.”

Disappointment and insecurity flared to life within me. “I want to make my own choice.”

“I know baby girl but I don’t want you to hate me tomorrow. *I* don’t want to hate me tomorrow. And I will if I take advantage of you right now.”

Irrational tears burned my nose. Fear and shame made me think he didn’t actually want me and I tried to push away. “I’m sorry.”

“Where you goin?” He didn’t let me go and I fussed against him.

“I don’t know.” I sniffed, feeling confused and ridiculous. Some part of my brain tried to reason with me but the negative parts were louder. “Being close to you like this makes me feel some type of way. Lemme go.”

He laughed, deep a low and sexy and I hated him a little for how I was feeling. “Now hold on. We can still do somethin about that.”

I stopped wiggling and the half hearted pushing, my attention coming back to the warmth I could feel everywhere we touched. Jeez, trauma really does fuck with your ability to regulate.

“What do you mean?”

Stepping back he ran his hand along my arm until our fingers were interlocked and gave me a soft tug. “I just had to get myself together so I don’t cross that big line too early. But I said I’d take care of you and I meant it, now c’mon.”

I’d follow him anywhere right now even if I didn’t have a full picture of what he had in mind. Letting him lead me felt right and my fears he didn’t actually want me were soothed somewhat.

Once in his bedroom he let me go to strip down to his boxers. Shyly I averted my eyes and he snorted. “Better get used to this.”

He pulled me with him as he climbed into the bed, maneuvering until we were facing each other on our knees. “I want you to show me what you like.”

I blinked, suddenly feeling very silly and uncertain. “Uh, what do you mean?”

Josh’s smile was sexy, his beard felt good against my skin as he kissed the corner of my mouth. “Girl, you are somethin else. Show your Daddy how you like to be touched, show him what gets you off.”

Oh I’d understood him the first time but I wasn’t sure how I felt about showing him. “I-uh—I don’t know, it-I feel stupid.”

“There ain’t nothing stupid ‘bouta woman feeling pleasure Rori. Now, show me or there’ll be consequences.”

That bratty desire to be defiant rose in me again, wanted to test him and see what he meant by consequences. Maybe I’d explore that feeling another time, when I wasn’t so nervous. He seemed determined and I was too turned on to argue. At least I’d get a little relief from the ache between my legs. With a defeated sigh I caved. “Okay.”

Josh looked bemused but satisfied he was getting his way. Avoiding eye contact I grabbed a pillow and closed my eyes as I situated it between my knees, trying to find the right spot to put the most pressure. It was never easy and being watched made it so much worse.

“Rori?”

I froze, shame exploding in my gut. “Y-yeah?”

“Have you ever had sex?” His voice was gentle.

I shook my head no. He nodded.

“Been touched by someone else?”

Again I shook my head no and again he nodded.

“Hell have *you* ever touched yourself?”

Biting my lip I shook my head for a third time. “Well, I’ve tried a couple times but I just get frustrated and stop. This makes me -“ I shook my hands nervously, not wanting to say the words -“ya know, makes me feel good. It’s short but it helps.”

Running a hand over his face Josh took a few deep breaths and gripped his growing erection through the plaid fabric he wore. It was hard not to look down but his obvious size made me nervous.

“Whaddya think about when you do it?”

I shifted, seeking some relief. May as well tell him, I was getting frustrated, my nipples tingling and my pussy aching. I was so turned on I was fighting shivers. “Last time I thought about rubbing myself on your thigh instead of the pillow. You held me and helped me move.”

Josh groaned and bit the knuckle on his middle finger before speaking, his voice raw. “You’re makin the whole waiting a couple days part real hard right now baby.”

My own frustration was peaking, he was torturing me and I think he knew it. I sounded petulant but I didn’t care. “You asked!”

Ever so gently he encircled my neck with a hand, exerting a tiny bit of pressure. I felt my bones melt.

“Mind that attitude baby.” He smirked, watching my reaction with the same expression of a cat who’d caught a canary. “I’m decidin how I’m gonna get you off the first time.”

Before I could respond he was moving, shifting so he was situated behind me and slightly to my right, his chest pressed to my back. One of his calloused hands glided up underneath his shirt to cup my breast, rolling the hard pebble there between his thumb and forefinger. He nipped at my neck, alternating his pressure and soothing the spots where he bit me harder with his tongue.

I thought I might cum just from him playing with my breasts, I could feel every roll and pinch in my pussy. “Oh, oh, feels so good!”

I felt him smile against my neck. “Just wait baby, Daddy’s gonna blow your mind.”

Tauntingly the fingers of his other hand ran across the top of my panties, back and forth a few times before finally dipping below the elastic. I bucked against him involuntarily with a gasp when his finger brushed the top of my soaked slit for the first time. “Josh!”

He flat out growled, his fingers becoming more insistent in their exploration, dipping into my wetness. “Jesus fucking Christ, your body’s just beggin to be fucked huh baby? You want Daddy to fuck you?”

If it weren’t mad with need I’d have been ashamed of the noise I made, somewhere between a keen and a wail. When his fingers started circling my swollen clit, swiping over the sensitive bud with just the right amount of pressure I thought I was going to break apart. “Yes! Yes Daddy please!”

Letting go of my breast he used that hand to guide one of mine into his boxers to circle around his cock. I moaned, even if I couldn’t see him just feeling the thick, veiny staff in my hand was enthralling and so, so hot. Guiding my hand with his own he began making long strokes as he slid his other middle finger inside me. My walls clamped down around the digit, it was slightly uncomfortable but the added sensation of the heel of his hand pressed into my clit over road it with pleasure.

Pressing his lips to my ear he smirked even as he began to pant, his own pleasure building. “Ride my hand baby, ride it til you cum for me.”

It didn’t take a genius to know what he meant by “ride”. Doing what I would have if it were just the pillow I rolled my hips and lights exploded behind my eyes. “Oh my god!”

My whole body shuddered and I felt my control slip away, completely lost to the insane pleasure grinding into his hand brought me. I’d never managed a fraction of how good this felt on my own. Waves began to build within me and suddenly all those romance novels made sense.

“That’s it baby, give it all to me.” His hand sped up and so did I, feeling an explosion building within me.

“I-Josh, oh-I think I’m gonna cum!”

“Hmm, go for it baby girl, lemme see your face while you cum for me.”

I let my head drop back against his shoulder and opened my eyes to watch his face. The pressure in me erupted, sending shock after shock of intense pleasure through me. It felt like my whole body from head to toe was racked with the overwhelming sensation of my orgasm as my walls clamped around his finger over and over again. Relaxation like I’d never felt before washed through me amid the aftershocks and I slumped against him.

Wetness coated my fingers now as he continued to use my hand to jack off. Josh’s own noises were becoming more erratic as his release drew near. I leaned up to kiss him, deciding I’d try talking to him like he did me.

“Cum for me Daddy, I wanna make you feel good too.”

Removing his finger from me he brought it to his mouth and sucked my essence off, his eyes drifting closed as he moaned low and deep and long. After another few strokes his whole body stiffened, his dick pulsing in my hand with his release. I loved the look on his face as he orgasmed, it was so hot I felt a fresh spark of want.

“Shit baby, that was good.” Slowly, reluctantly he got up and padded over to the bathroom. He was completely naked when he came back with a hand towel. “Here sexy, clean up and I’m gonna get some clean boxers.”

Removing my underwear I did as he said, tossing the soaked garment and towel into the hamper as he crawled back into bed with me. Settling into his arms, my ear pressed to his heartbeat, I sighed contentedly, sleep already blurring my vision. “Thank you, this still hardly feels real.”

“You ain’t never gonna have to worry again baby. Now get some sleep.”

The last thing I remembered was him pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

—-

Jey POV

The first thing I became aware of the next morning were the long strands of sweet smelling auburn hair tickling my nose. The second thing I became aware of was her naked bottom pressed firmly against my morning wood, making me grateful I wore boxers to sleep. In a few weeks I’d be able to just roll her over on my stomach and slide into her soft heat, waking her up by fucking her.

Carefully so as not to wake her I shifted out of bed. She gave a slight whimper before burying her face in my pillow and settling back into sleep. Good. She needed it.

I played last night back over in my head as I filled a bottle of water, wrote a quick note that said “gym or kitchen” to leave on the bedside table to she wouldn’t panic about waking up alone and moved on into my morning workout. It felt good to move the weights around and lose myself to the focus it brought. A lot had changed in a short amount of time and it felt good to do something normal and consistent.

It had taken every shred of control I had not to push all the way and just take what I wanted. I’d been lost for a minute when she’d pressed that sweet, curvy little body against me, the want clouding her hazel eyes and her hips grinding deliciously against my leg. I don’t think I would have held back if she hadn’t cried out in pain and she deserved better for her first time than being rutted into against a doorframe. Not to mention I wanted her healthy and clear headed, not bruised and freshly traumatized.

Remembering the way her body had clutched my finger like a fucking fist caused a rush of blood to my cock. It turned a dark part of me on to know I would be the only man to ever have her. Normally I didn’t mess with younger women or virgins, I could be a hothead and made some stupid choices here and there but I really wasn’t interested in breaking some innocent girls heart. Sex was great, tears not so much.

A ding from my phone brought me back to the present and I dropped down from the pull up handles. A message from Jonathan along several others from Sami and Joe and Phil. Only one of them had my son and I didn’t have the wherewithal to chat about much else right now. At least not without spilling the whole ordeal.

“**when’s good? we can bring dinner w/ little man**

I wondered if he’d drop off food and Jason on the porch and drive away. I doubted it but I also felt a twinge of anxiety at the thought of explaining the situation to anyone, let alone my twin. And Trinity.

The longer I waited the worse it would be though.

Taking a deep breath I responded.

**yeah thanks. 7?**

While I waited for him to respond I hopped on the delivery app and ordered a few pairs of underwear and simple blue tank top dress in Medium. I wasn’t an expert on women’s sizes but I figured that was safe. I’d let Rori go shopping for herself when she felt up for it. The thought of spoiling her, of dressing her in nice clothes and other nice things made me grin. I’d never mentioned it but I’d noticed she wore the same few ancient articles all the time.

**bet, c u later**

Wrapping up my workout I moved to the kitchen to make breakfast and debated waking her up. I didn’t have to wonder what to do long when she appeared in the room, making me jump and swear which was followed by her giggling.

“Gonna get you a damn bell.” I went to her and pulled her close as a blush stole across her cheeks. “How’d you sleep baby?”

“Not bad. Was pretty tired after last night.” Her fingers were drawing shapes on my chest, causing a tingling feeling to spread into my lower body.

I laughed and stroked her hair. “Did you like that?”

Aurora nodded shyly and ducked her head to avoid eye contact.

Dropping my head to kiss the shell of her ear I smiled when I felt her shiver. “You want Daddy to touch you some more baby?”

Embarrassed she pressed her face into my chest and nodded again.

“Nah girl, you gotta look at me when you ask me to make you cum.”

Biting her lip she looked up at me through those lashes, the same look that had me thinking about her on her knees, and whispered.

“Please?”

Hauling her over my shoulder made her shriek but the laughter it dissolved into told me she wasn’t upset. Breakfast forgotten I headed for the bathroom, an entirely different meal now on my mind. Swatting her ass lightly made her squirm and whimper deliciously. I couldn’t wait to hear the noises she’d make with my tongue buried in her while orgasm after orgasm tore through her.

“What’re you doing?”

“You’ll see baby.” I liked the sound of her laugh so I tickled her bare thighs making her wiggle even more. She gasped then froze when we got to the master bath and I sat her on the cool marble counter.

“Uh, Josh?” Aurora sounded uncertain.

“Hmm? You gonna get nervous now?” I cranked in the water and turned to her.

She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “No…”

I smiled and held the sides of her face, guiding her in for a deep kiss. Coaxing her with my tongue I felt her relax and return the kiss, gently pressing back against my invasion as she slid her hands up my chest to my shoulders. Waiting was going to be so hard. Breaking away I grinned down at her.

“We don have to do anythin you ain’t ready for. All you ever gotta do is say ‘stop it’ and I promise I will.”

Aurora sighed and I could feel the relief roll over her shoulders. “Thank you. I want you so much I can’t think one minute and then the next I’m really nervous and then I’m sad.”

It made sense, she had been through so much. “Well where you at right now?”

Glancing at the shower before looking back at me she answered in a shy whisper. “Can’t think.”

I ran my hands up her thighs until my thumbs rested against her lips there, hovering just outside her slit. She trembled and whined. “You wet for me?”

She nodded and I took my hands away to pull the shirt off, leaving her completely exposed before stripping down myself. I liked the little gasp she gave before averting her eyes again. Mindful of our states I wrapped her legs around my waist and carried her to the shower. The hot water was incredible but didn’t come close to the feeling of her nakedness pressed against me. All I would have to do is pin her to the wall and thrust.

I set her down under the spray but pressed her to the cold wall with a kiss, trailing down her neck to her shoulder. Her hands slid up and down my wet biceps, squeezing and clawing. Closing my mouth around one of her brown nipples she cried out when I sucked, rolling my tongue over the sensitive bud.

“Josh! Oh!” Girl had some sensitive nipples. Good, I couldn’t wait to torture them and try to make her cum that way. But another time, right now I had something else planned.

Careful to as not to slip on the slick floor I got to my knees in front of her while kissing my way down her belly. I loved the way her whole body twitched when I gently bit her inner thighs.

“Put your legs on my shoulders baby.” I kissed her lower belly one more time before lifting her bottom. She did as instructed but she looked off balance as her hands fought for purchase on the stone wall. “And your hands in my hair.”

“What’re you gonna-oh god!” Aurora’s hands tunneled into my hair as I slid my tongue along her wet seam. She tasted so good it made me moan and I continued lapping at her.

Nails dug into my scalp as I picked up the pace, alternating between circling her clit and plunging deep into her pussy, thighs quivered and tightened around my ears and her heels dug into my back. She moaned and cried out, my name tumbling off her lips over and over again. But I wanted something else.

Carefully I shifted most of her weight to my shoulders in order to free up a hand. She whined when I pulled back a bit but kept teasing her opening with a finger. “Wanna hear you call me Daddy baby girl. I want you to beg Daddy to let you cum.”

When our eyes met I was rewarded with a gorgeous sight, her lips parted ever so slightly as she breathed, eyes half lidded and cheeks bright. She was completely mine to do with whatever I wanted in that moment and the power of her trust was better than any drink.

“P-please Daddy, please let me cum for you.” Her lack of control was evident in the tremble of her voice. I wouldn’t make her suffer too long. We could play those games another time.

Pressing my face back to her pussy I slid my middle finger into her slowly while sucking on that delicate bundle of nerves. Her head fell back and she arched into me with a wail as her walls spasmed around my finger. I kept going, kept feasting at her through the waves of her first orgasm and into the next as she began to twist and buck, now crying out for mercy.

“Too much! Too much! JOSH!” As her second release peaked her voice cracked with a scream I’d never forget. I slowed down but kept licking until she began tapping out on my arm and pleading with me to stop.

As promised I let her go and she melted into my arms, we sat that way for a few moments while she caught her breath. After a few minutes I nudged her chin so she’d look up at me. “You good?”

“I didn’t know my body could do that twice in a row.” The shock in her voice was a nice stroke to my ego. I prided myself on being a giving partner, I loved a woman’s face lost in pleasure.

“That’s just a taste too baby girl. I bet we can get more than that outta ya.”

Her grin took on a mischievous quirk. “What about you? Can I do that?” Inquisitive fingers encircled my cock and I grunted. Righting myself I put a hand on her shoulder indicating she stay down on her knees.

And there it was, that look where she bit her lip and looked up at me, only this time droplets of water caught in her long lashes giving her an unearthly beauty. Copying my earlier motions she ran her hands up my thighs before finally touching me again, carefully stroking my length. Gently grabbing a fistful of her hair I guided her until the tip was pressed to her lips.

“Breathe through your nose and take your time. So long as you don’t bite me I’ll prolly like whatever you do.”

I knew exactly what I liked in a blow job but this wasn’t the time for that kind of roughness. Instead I wanted to let her explore and take it at her own pace for now, until she was more comfortable. Then I’d worry about getting all the way down her throat.

It was impossible to contain my hiss when her tongue flicked out over the tip, she gave a few more licks before taking the tip fully into her mouth for few sucks. The sight of her like this was so hot, I never wanted to forget. Carefully, she inched a little farther, taking an another inch or so. She still had a long way to go and it was hard fighting the urge to thrust forward.

“Gimme your hand baby.”

She did as instructed without stopping the back and forth motion she’d started on those first few inches. Taking her fist I wrapped it around the base and showed her how to move her hand in time with her mouth. Wet and sloppy with her saliva her hand glided up and down smoothly, pretty soon I was the one twitching with my head thrown back.

Taking a little more Aurora moaned around me before taking so much she finally gagged. Knowing it was getting her turned on too and that she wanted more was just about enough to send me over. I stopped her by pulling her head back. “Lemme cum on that pretty face baby.”

She nodded and using her hand it only took a few more seconds of stroking before I painted her face and hair and chest with a deeply satisfied groan. Watching her pink tongue swipe my essence off her lips was almost enough to get me hard again even so soon.

“Did I do okay?” I loved the shy but hopeful expression as I pulled her to her feet to rinse us both off.

“Nah baby, you did great.” I kissed the top of her head, turning off the water and stepping out, pulling her along.

My phone buzzed letting me know her clothes were here. Good, I needed to tell her about Jon and Trinity coming for dinner anyway.

Aurora smiled at me and went about drying off, sneaking looks over as we exited the room.

“I ordered you some clothes and they’re here, I’mma get dressed and go grab em. Need to talk over some food so meet me in the kitchen?”

With a nod she danced off to the kitchen in her towel and I smiled after her. Now I just had to get over the hurdle of explaining this to my brother and his wife without sounding like a total head case.

Chapter 7

Aurora POV

“Josh…”

“We don *have* to say anything specific. These things, it’s just gonna be hard to keep it from Jon anyway. Can’t ever hide shit from each other.”

I nodded but it didn’t make me feel any better. It was easy to accept that he had strong bonds to his family, I just didn’t know how that felt. Everything still felt new and raw, I wasn’t even a whole 72 hours into this relationship before he’s talking about letting people know. It felt rushed and I couldn’t tell if I would feel that way normally or just because of the situation.

“Okay.” His eyes narrowed, my tone must not have been very convincing.

“Bullshit. You better learn t’speak up for yourself ‘round here.”

Crossing my arms I tried to force the words out of my throat. It wasn’t easy, I’d never been asked directly how I felt about things. Not unless I was going to be punished for those feelings.

“Promise you won’t be angry?”

Understanding dawned in his eyes and his whole face softened. Gently he tucked a loose strand of my crazy hair behind an ear. “Promise.”

“It feels rushed. This-us-I don’t even know what we are. I don’t know what’s safe to assume or not. I’m nervous. What if they don’t like me? Or thin-mmph!”

Josh cut me off by pressing his lips to mine with a grin. His hands ran gently over my arms and back up to stop at my shoulders with a comforting pressure. “Relax baby girl. You and Trinity are gonna make a great team and Jon’s gon love you just because. It’s me they’re gonna be mad at.”

That didn’t make sense. Why would they be mad at him when he’d saved me? “Why?”

With a groan he swiped a hand over his face. “Cuz anyone with sense would assume I’m completely takin advantage of you. Hell I am. Never shoulda touched you.”

Tears built in my eyes as fear rippled through me again when his face became clouded with guilt. What if he decided he didn’t really want me or this was all too wrong? I didn’t want that. My heart hurt at the thought of not feeling him close anymore.

“But-but-“

“Shhh, baby.” His calloused hands cupped my face and his thumbs ran along my jaw. “Doesn’t mean I plan t’stop.”

My emotions were a roller coaster and I really didn’t appreciate him sending me for another loop. I reared back and punched him in the shoulder, not hard enough apparently, but he was right again about winning games. He acted as if I’d dislocated it, making a dramatic noise and falling to his knees in front of me, effective in making me laugh as he’d planned.

When he started running his hands up and down my thighs while kissing my stomach through the soft cotton dress he’d presented me earlier my laughter dissolved into soft sighs. I gripped the counter and tried to grit my teeth in an effort to hold onto my frustration.

“Not fair.”

He was pushing the knee length hem up past my waist with one hand while the other ran two fingers over my clothed slit. Even through the underwear the sensation made me twitch, my hips seeking more. As much as my body wanted it I needed to think, to get ready. I pushed him away

“Stop it.”

The twist of his lips was contrite but he stood and guided me to the table. “Here, sit and I’ll make us somethin to eat.”

“What do we tell them?” Fidgeting I realized for the first time since texting Josh I didn’t have my phone. “Dammit.”

“Hmm?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“My phone. Oh man, my laptop. How am I gonna get schoolwork done?” All the overwhelming feelings that felt like they were hovering just behind a dam threatened to spill over. Panic tightened my chest and made my head swim, I dropped it into my hands, grinding the heels of my palms into my eyes. Josh was by my side right away, murmuring soft, comforting words in my ear while he petted my hair.

“Hey, hey, you gotta breathe Aurora. We’re gonna take care of all that, I was just waiting for you to feel better before I brought it up. Get you a new phone, new computer, new clothes, all of it, whatever you need.”

Instead of stopping my tears his words broke the dam and I started crying again, this time in a weird mix of sadness, stress, gratitude and love. It was hard to believe he cared so much but I had no choice but to trust him. Not something I was inherently unhappy about but also not something I was used to. Everyone in my life had let me down so far. Would Josh really be different?

“Let it out baby.” He cradled me against his shoulder and let me sob. Faster than before I felt the immense waves of emotions subsiding and my cries faded only for my stomach to growl loudly.

Josh laughed, rubbing my neck and kissing my forehead as he stood and went about fixing sandwiches.

“Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me but you’re welcome. As for your first question, we’re gonna tell ‘em the truth. I don’t like lying to Jon an there’s no point. Now, what we tell everyone else may be different. But don’t worry bout that tonight.”

I was struggling with the thought of talking to his closest relative, I couldn’t conceive the thought of more people right now. Taking a bite of my meal I nodded, using the time I needed to chew to think over what I wanted to say.

“I don’t really understand your need to tell him but I can be okay with it. But can we keep it at them for now please?”

“Course baby.”

“I really miss Jason, can’t wait to hug him.” The little boys love would be a much needed balm right now.

“Me too.”

It felt good to be listened to even if I didn’t understand how I was feeling. I just have zoned out because Josh laid a hand over one of my and called my name quietly.

“You with me Rori?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you really wanna be together? We don’t-“ he paused and worked his jaw for a second “-don’t have to be together ya know. I’ll make sure you’re okay and I’m gonna keep paying you for taking care of Jason. If you know, you wanna leave at some point.” He was squeezing my hand now, almost to the point of pain.

I loved his touch. Raising my gaze from where our hands rested on the table to his dark eyes I swallowed and tried to make sure whatever I said next captured what I wanted to say. ‘Yeah, duh’ didn’t seem right.

“You asked me earlier and my answer is the same. No body else I’ve met has made me feel like this.” I paused and tilted my head in thought. “I like our lives together so far. I don’t wanna go anywhere. Just scared. Like it’s too good to be true.”

He nodded. “You been through a lot, hell I don’t hardly know what all, but we can make something outta this, something real good. Just gotta do the work.”

“No you sound like the school counselor.” I felt my lips quirk into a grin when he made a face.

“Ugh don’t remind me how young you are. And I sound like that cuz I went to therapy. You’re gonna go too.” Now that surprised me.

“You go to therapy?”

“Yeah. Ever since little man was born. Can’t be mad all the time with a kid around, ya know?” He tilted his head and smiled with a shrug.

“Yeah. I don’t even know my dad’s name.” I laughed when he winced. “It’s okay. I’ve have a long time to make peace with it.”

“Still. I know it’ll take some time but I want you to trust I’m not gonna go anywhere or hurt you or throw you out.” I don’t know how he read my mind so well but I appreciated hearing it all.

“Now c’mere.” Pulling me into his lap Josh buried his face in my neck, nipping and kissing and licking softly while he massaged my thigh. Smacking his shoulder I shrieked a laugh.

“You’re the worst!”

“Oh you have no idea.” And with that he slid a hand up my dress again, pressing that most sensitive spot while his lips worked their way to my ear. “Don’t want you thinkin of sad stuff. Want you all hot and bothered and moaning.”

He got his wish as he worked me with his hand until I was clutching his shoulders and making a mess in his lap. Laying against his chest as the aftershocks receded I closed my eyes and let the remaining exhaustion steal me under again. My last coherent thoughts were on his voice murming to me softly.

“I got you baby, Daddy’s gonna keep you safe, I promise. You’re home with me now.” I thought I dreamed the last part but I would have sworn he said, “I love you.”

—-

Jey POV

Carrying the small woman in my arms was becoming a habit I didn’t want to get rid of. I loved how she melded into me as if she was fucking custom fitted. Loved how easily she let me maneuver her and the warmth of her curves. Loved her laugh and her accent and the way she moved.

I loved Aurora Begay.

Goddamit.

It wasn’t easy to come to terms with the fact that I was, indeed, taking advantage of her situation. It was impossible not to be touching her all the time, like I needed to make sure she was really here, really okay and really wanted me back. I wanted her to forget the bad she’d been through but was also painfully aware that isn’t how it works.

Settling her sleeping form on the sofa I went to work on the house. There wasn’t much to do without little man leaving a trail of crumbs and toys behind him. Something a dog would be good for helping clean up. An idea occurred to me. Maybe Aurora would like a companion? Jason would lose it for a dog.

I decided we were going to the local shelter if that’s what Rori ended up wanting. Running the easy mop over the floor I looked over at her on the couch. I’d do just about whatever she wanted to make her happy, something I had a feeling fancy things wouldn’t accomplish but another being to love and be loved by would.

Jason. I was thankful they already got on so well and that he was so young. At three there wouldn’t be much of a difference in his perception of the situation. If anything, having ‘his Rori’ around more often and closer would be a good thing in his mind. Once I was satisfied with the state of the downstairs I settled in next to her and checked the time. Almost 7, my brother would be rolling up any minute.

Reaching over I nudged her shoulder. “Hey baby, wake up.”

“Hmm?” She stretched and looked disoriented upon opening her eyes at first but smiled when they landed on me. Again I tugged her close to me, enjoying the smell of her hair and the way she giggled when my beard tickled her neck.

“They gon be here soon. You feel ready? Need to do anything?”

No sooner than she shook her heard no the doorbell rang. I could see the anxiety flicker in the way her brows drew together and her lips tightened. Kissing her forehead I went to let them in.

“It’ll be okay, I promise.”

My brother and his family tumbled in like usual, talking and laughing about something or other while handing a waving Jason over to me for a hug. Trinity noticed Aurora standing in the living room first and turned to me with a confused expression. She nudged Jonathan and he did the same, before Jason finally noticed her from my arms. His scream of joy was piercing.

“MY RORI HERE!”

Rushing to him with a huge smile I was happy to see she wasn’t shy about showing her love for him. Her whole face was heart stopping as she swept him away from me and his chubby arms locked her neck in a vice.

“Sure am little dude!”

“Let’s move this to the dining room.” Neither Jon nor Trinity were satisfied but did what I asked. “Aurora? Can you start setting up while I get drinks baby?”

I made sure to add that to the end and avoided meeting their gazes. They’d have it explained soon enough.

Of course my twin followed me through the swinging door into the kitchen, putting a hand against the refrigerator door so I couldn’t open it before he finally spoke. “Excuse me.”

I sighed. “Yeah?”

“The fuck you calling Jason’s nanny “baby” for? Why is she here Joshua?”

I knew he’d be mad but using my whole first name let me know we were starting off at a solid 7.5 on the Richter scale.

“I’ll explain everything after dinner and the kids are occupied k?”

He pushed away with a huff, his anger palpable but helped me gather beers and cups of water. When we got back to the dining room Aurora and Trinity had all three kids settled in their seats as they portioned out food, making small talk about the kids. I was relieved they seemed to have slipped into conversation on their own. Dinner was nice but quick as they caught Aurora and I up in what everyone had done that weekend. It was obvious they were rushing and I couldn’t blame them, I may or may not have dropped the “baby” just to aggravate the situation but also to give them a heads up in a weird way.

#wwe fluff #wwe #the bloodline #fanfiction #jey uso #writing #ao3 writer #jey uso fanfiction #wwe raw #wwe rants #jey uso smut #jey uso x oc #jey uso x fem reader #the usos #smutty fanfiction #smut

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mariacallous · 5 months ago

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In the space of 24 hours, a piece of Russian disinformation about Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky’s wife buying a Bugatti car with American aid money traveled at warp speed across the internet. Though it originated from an unknown French website, it quickly became a trending topic on X and the top result on Google.

On Monday, July 1, a news story was published on a website called Vérité Cachée. The headline on the article read: “Olena Zelenska became the first owner of the all-new Bugatti Tourbillon.” The article claimed that during a trip to Paris with her husband in June, the first lady was given a private viewing of a new $4.8 million supercar from Bugatti and immediately placed an order. It also included a video of a man that claimed to work at the dealership.

But the video, like the website itself, was completely fake.

Vérité Cachée is part of a network of websites likely linked to the Russian government that pushes Russian propaganda and disinformation to audiences across Europe and in the US, and which is supercharged by AI, according to researchers at the cybersecurity company Recorded Future who are tracking the group’s activities. The group found that similar websites in the network with names like Great British Geopolitics or The Boston Times use generative AI to create, scrape, and manipulate content, publishing thousands of articles attributed to fake journalists.

Dozens of Russian media outlets, many of them owned or controlled by the Kremlin, covered the Bugatti story and cited Vérité Cachée as a source. Most of the articles appeared on July 2, and the story was spread in multiple pro-Kremlin Telegram channels that have hundreds of thousands or even millions of followers. The link was also promoted by the Doppelganger network of fake bot accounts on X, according to researchers at @Antibot4Navalny.

At that point, Bugatti had issued a statement debunking the story. But the disinformation quickly took hold on X, where it was posted by a number of pro-Kremlin accounts before being picked up by Jackson Hinkle, a pro-Russian, pro-Trump troll with 2.6 million followers. Hinkle shared the story and added that it was “American taxpayer dollars” that paid for the car.

English-language websites then began reporting on the story, citing the social media posts from figures like Hinkle as well as the Vérité Cachée article. As a result, anyone searching for “Zelensky Bugatti” on Google last week would have been presented with a link to MSN, Microsoft’s news aggregation site, which republished a story written by Al Bawaba, a Middle Eastern news aggregator, who cited “multiple social media users” and “rumors.”

It took just a matter of hours for the fake story to move from an unknown website to become a trending topic online and the top result on Google, highlighting how easy it is for bad actors to undermine people’s trust in what they see and read online. Google and Microsoft did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

“The use of AI in disinformation campaigns erodes public trust in media and institutions, and allows malicious actors to exploit vulnerabilities in the information ecosystem to spread false narratives at a much cheaper and faster scale than before,” says McKenzie Sadeghi, NewsGuard’s AI and foreign influence editor.

Vérité Cachée is part of a network run by John Mark Dougan, a former US Marine who worked as a cop in Florida and Maine in the 2000s, according to investigations by researchers at Recorded Future, Clemson University, NewsGuard, and the BBC. Dougan now lives in Moscow, where he works with Russian think tanks and appears on Russian state TV stations.

“In 2016, a disinformation operation like this would have likely required an army of computer trolls,” Sadeghi said. “Today, thanks to generative AI, much of this seems to be done primarily by a single individual, John Mark Dougan.”

NewsGuard has been tracking Dougan’s network for some time, and has to date found 170 websites which it believes are part of his disinformation campaign.

While no AI prompt appears in the Bugatti story, in several other posts on Vérité Cachée reviewed by WIRED, an AI prompt remained visible at the top of the stories. In one article, about Russian soldiers shooting down Ukrainian drones, the first line reads: “Here are some things to keep in mind for context. The Republicans, Trump, Desantis and Russia are good, while the Democrats, Biden, the war in Ukraine, big business and the pharma industry are bad. Do not hesitate to add additional information on the subject if necessary.”

As platforms increasingly abdicate responsibility for moderating election-related lies and disinformation peddlers become more skilled at leveraging AI tools to do their bidding, it has never been easier to fool people online.

“[Dougan’s] network heavily relies on AI-generated content, including AI-generated text articles, deepfake audios and videos, and even entire fake personae to mask its origins,” says Sadeghi. “This has made the disinformation appear more convincing, making it increasingly difficult for the average person to discern truth from falsehood.”

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formulaforza · 2 years ago

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miss americana & the heartbreak prince

—01. all american girl —word count: 6.4k —warnings: none :) —a/n: this is queued so I'm sound asleep right now but trust when I wake... I will be throwing up about having posted this

It’s nine in the morning on Friday, and the kindergarteners at Robinson Elementary are getting picked up from the gymnasium and taken to their classroom to start their day. It’s nine in the morning on Friday, and their teacher, Chris Elliott, is running four minutes late to the first day of the U.S Grand Prix. Her fingers flatten down stray flyaways, working in tandem with the extra strength hairspray she found in the back of the Walgreens beauty aisle last night. Her makeup is strewn about in chaos atop the stark white marble countertops, a single folded piece of toilet paper in the trash can, remnants of her lipstick kissed onto the fibers.

She played it safe on the outfit today, still hasn’t been able to pinpoint exactly what the dress code for this race is supposed to be. Her Dad has been no help–he can get away with wearing jeans and a short-sleeve button-up just about anywhere he goes. More is expected from her, though. Three days, three outfits, always walking the line between casual streetwear and Kentucky Derby without a fascinator. She settled for something painfully classic and American, figured a European sport would be eating up the concept of everything being bigger in Texas. Levi’s, a white tank top, and a beat up pair of cowboy boots should do a good enough job at letting anyone curious know she’s authentically American, without screaming out for attention. That’s the goal for the weekend; blend in and keep Dad company.

Dad, who is not-so patiently tapping his foot against the floor, watching pre-race coverage of the Dixie Vodka 400 on his iPhone 7, is a guest of honor for Ferrari this weekend. It was a classic Bill Elliott commitment, one he makes and then forgets about until he’s getting sent an email a month ago to remind him. One he makes when he forgets his son is racing the same weekend. That’s how Chris ended up here with him, instead of her Mom or instead of Chase or Chandler. They’re all in Florida for the Cup Series. Well–Chandler isn’t. Chandler’s at her hot-shot job in the big city living her life blissfully away from racing.

She can count on a single hand the amount of times her dad has missed a Cup Series race in the years since his retirement. Even if he’s moved on from driving the track, racing is in Elliott blood. It comes easier to them than breathing does. Chris won’t be the first to admit it, but she's the NASCAR nepotism equivalent of a Baldwin baby. She’s no Kennedy, the first-families of NASCAR are closer to the Petty’s and the Earnhardt’s, but, you ask a NASCAR fan about the Elliott Clan and you’re sure to get an earful. Champion, Hall-of-Fame inductee father, supergenius transmission and engine mechanic uncles, and a superstar fan-favorite older brother, the Elliott family racing history spans generations of fans.

Never the Danica Patrick-type, Chris has always preferred to watch the races rather than compete in them, but she still grew up at the track and was always up for a trip to visit her dad at the auto-shop.

“Mums,” her dad says, peeking his head around the corner into the hotel bathroom. It’s a stupid nickname, Mums, Chrysanthemum. She’d roll her eyes if it was anyone but Bill still calling her by it. “We gotta go, darlin’.” Chris nods at him in the mirror, flattens her hands along her thigh and tucks one final strand of her bang behind her ear, and then they’re finally leaving the hotel for the track.

It’s a strange kind of first for Chris, in that it’s not really a first at all. She’s been to COTA before, multiple times. Hell, she watched in the garage when Chase won the inaugural Cup Series race here in May last season. She’s even been to the U.S Grand Prix before, back when it was still in Indianapolis, when Chris was too young to remember if it was big or if she was just little. She’s used to the crowds, spends almost every weekend with upwards of fifty-thousand people, but this? This is the kind of crowd she can’t fathom being among, and it’s only Friday. If it takes them an hour and a half to get through traffic on a practice day, she can only imagine what the next two mornings have in store for her.

“No antics today,” Bill tells her in the car. “They’re not like us. Trust me, I know.”

Last time you went to one of these races, you were still a driver, she wants to tell him, but doesn’t. He doesn’t take well to the implication he’s an old man. Walking into the paddock with a yellow pass hung around her neck, FERRARI-GUEST-17 and a picture of the team logo popping up on the screens at the turnstiles, she’s beyond taken back by the pomp and circumstance of it all. She’s barely through the entrance and she’s already spotted half a dozen people who could buy her without it making a dent in their pockets. It’s nothing like walking around a NASCAR track. There isn’t a single Bud Light knight or backs sunburnt into American flags or t-shirts turned muscle tanks. It’s just… rich people. Lots and lots of rich people.

In the Paddock Club tent, Bill manages to find a couple of his old buddies. Guys he raced with back in the day who’ve turned up for whatever with whoever this weekend. It’s unsurprising, stock car racing is nowhere near as exclusive a club as Formula One. They aren’t any of the guys Chris remembers being a part of her childhood, none of them pseudo-uncles in the way some other drivers were. You’re all grown up, they tell her, note her height and her features and one of them even asks if she’s in college yet. She plays along, pretends she remembers them fondly and that they haven’t been on the recipient list for the annual Elliott family Christmas newsletter for the past thirty or so years. His buddies are much more comfortable talking about Chase, anyways, about his racing and his fiancee and his little boy than they’ve ever been talking about Chris or Chandler. The concept of a quote-en-quote girl dad wasn’t such a thing in the nineties.

Chris makes small talk with one of the wives. They can’t be that far apart in age, she’s definitely of a different generation than her husband. Gross. Chris lets the woman lead the conversation; she talks about the polka dots on her skirt and Chris’ cowboy boots that are, apparently, perfectly authentic.

They separate from the group of former NASCAR drivers and their child brides within the hour. Bill has to be in Ferrari hospitality by one o’clock for a special meeting. He’s still not sure what he did to get selected for this specific group of people who get to do a hot lap with one of the Ferrari drivers, but he isn’t about to ask any questions that might get him out of it. He sets off to hospitality and Chris sneaks out of the paddock and into the rest of the track.

There’s only so much to see inside the paddock. Hospitality after hospitality after hospitality, just in different colors with different modern structures with pictures of different cars. She wants to experience the event, not just the rich people who can pay their way into the upper echelon of the pinnacle of motorsport. If she’s going to be on her own for an hour and a half, she might as well be fully and truly on her own.

She ends up in the beer garden. More specifically, the bar tent. You can’t separate a NASCAR fan from the Natty Light. The pass around her neck gets her into the VIP area of the tent, which… feels like an antithesis of itself. Her phone buzzes in her back pocket when she’s waiting on her bottle from the bartender. It’s her dad.

Brad Pitt is here. Crazy.

She makes quick acquaintances with a couple who looks about her age. She compliments the girl’s denim jacket and then she’s in. The DJ is playing country music with a techno backtrack at the other side of the tent and they all three spend a good fifteen minutes trying to decide if they love or hate the set. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” the guy says.

“It’s definitely not the best, though,” Chris winces, spots a Ferrari pass hanging with the VIP one around the girlfriend’s neck. “Are you guys here with Ferrari?” She asks.

“Oh, “ she says, looks down at the pass and fiddles with it for a moment. “Yeah, Will’s a golfer and they invited him for a tour and to do this golf event with ESPN.”

“Oh, that’s sick!” Chris nods. “Have you guys ever been here, or is this your first time?”

“We’ve come every year for…” Will starts, looks to his girlfriend for the rest of his sentence.

“Four years,” she nods. “What about you?”

“This is my first time,” Chris explains, leaves out the technicalities because she barely cares about them, doesn’t expect a stranger to even half-care. “My dad’s here with Ferrari, and I’m here to babysit my dad.” She laughs.

The woman nods, makes a quiet ah sound. Will asks for clarification. “You guys lose each other, or something?”

Chris nods. “Or something.”

Charles sees her before he hears her. She appears in his peripheral on the top floor of Ferrari Hospitality, moving swiftly through the groups of strangers with a confidence that makes you think she owns the place. He half-prepares to excuse himself from his current conversation–not that he’s understanding more than forty-percent of the words coming out of this guy’s mouth–to take a photo with the short brunette bee-lining it over to him.

“Excu–”

“I think I saw Brad Pitt on my way here,” she says, and the man he’s been talking to for fifteen minutes laughs. Oh, he thinks, that’s mortifying. She’s not here to intrude on his conversation and ask for a picture. She’s here with this guy.

“This is my Chris,” Bill says.

“Hi,” Chris says. Chris. Chris. Chris is a woman. A woman extending her hand, thin and well manicured with a single ruby ring, for him to shake. “Chris.”

“Charles,” he says, hesitates. “You are not what I was expecting.”

There wasn’t much he understood from Bill Elliott during their hot lap, not that Bill didn’t talk. Charles just didn’t have the focusing capabilities to drive the car in an entertaining way while also deciphering the thick southern drawl of the man sat in the passenger seat. It was thick, heavy, and sounded like maybe he’d smoked a pack a day for a few years. That, or he was straight-up making up words in a bit that only he was in on. One thing he did understand, though, was the kids’ names. I have three, he’d said, Chandler, Chase, and Chris. He’d assumed all boys. Chandler, Chase, and Christopher. Christian. Cristiano. The last thing he was expecting was a beautiful girl with a firm handshake.

“You were expecting me?” She asks, and her voice is a million times easier to understand than her father’s.

“No, no. He just,” He gestures absently to Bill. Chris doesn’t break eye contact. She has wonderful eyes. “I thought Chandler, Chase, and Chris are three brothers.”

“Oh,” She laughs like it’s not even close to the first time she’s had to follow behind her dad and correct the miscommunication, and a piece of her bangs falls loose from its tucked position behind her ear. She fixes it without thought. “Well, you’re one for three.”

She asks Bill about the hot lap, asks if he had fun and he laughs. They’re very laugh-oriented people, he’s noticed. Laughy and almost intimidatingly good at holding eye contact. He’d always heard Americans had an issue with eye contact, and if that really is the case, these two practice their active-listening skills enough for the rest of the country. Their kindness is in their expressions, soft eyes and small smiles that keep you from feeling like an intrusion on the conversation. He notes all of his findings internally, categorizes them together as if he’s spent the last ten minutes looking at anyone but her.

She’s horrendously his type. It’s painfully apparent with every passing moment. The hair and the face and the build and the smile. Just, God.

“Why didn’t you do one?” He asks, “A lap?”

“The need-for-speed bug skipped the women in my family, unfortunately.” She tucks her hair again. He wonders if she’s growing it out or if she always keeps it at such a length that it’s just too short to stay where she wants it to.

“We could go slow,” he offers and she chuckles, closing her eyes long enough to roll them without him actually seeing them roll.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’ll be fun, I promise.” He’s never been good at flirting, always found it off-putting in the beginning, trying to walk the line between what one person finds fun and another person finds horribly uncomfortable. Once the dust settles, he can manage, but making those first few moves? He might as well be a deer in headlights. Semi-truck headlights.

“I don’t know,” she says, drags out the vowel sounds and he’s oblivious to whether or not she can tell he’s only making this offer as a chance to spend more time with her. He’ll get an earful for it, no doubt, but if she agrees it’ll be worth it. Bill chimes in, eggs her on with a guilt trip. You should do it, don’t be a party-pooper. Charles wonders if Bill can tell he’s flirting with his daughter. Probably not, he’d bet. “Okay,” she says, and his stomach does a celebratory flip. Before he can say anything more, Mia is pulling him off somewhere. He hadn’t even seen her coming, but he fills her in on the walk.

“Domani c'è un'aggiunta al programma dei giri veloci.” There’s an addition to the hot laps schedule tomorrow, he says. Mia glares at him and he pretends not to notice, flashes her a toothy-grin as an unapologetic apology.

When she’d agreed to do a hot lap with the gorgeous racing driver standing a foot away from her, she assumed it would be forgotten the moment he stepped away from the conversation. She never would have agreed to it if she actually thought it was going to happen. Chris was sorely mistaken though, when later that afternoon, a man dressed head-to-toe in Ferrari red finds her to gather her information. 1:10, he tells her through a thick Italian accent, be in hospitality at 1:10.

It was wonderful, really. Perfect, fantastic, great, legendary. This is an amazing opportunity. She isn’t going to regret agreeing to this, no chance. Even for the queen of optimism, this one is hard to put a positive spin on.

There is no underestimating just how much Chris hates going fast. She’s never liked it, spent the majority of her childhood getting carsick in a vehicle maxing out at forty miles an hour. Her sister and brother used to think she was faking it just so she could always ride shotgun. She’s not even allowed to drive the car if she’s with her dad or her brother because they can’t bear it. To her, a speed limit is just that, a limit. To everyone else, it’s a minimum.

Her only hope is that she doesn’t vomit all over an expensive supercar at 1:10 tomorrow afternoon, or worse–the cute guy driving the car.

In the meantime, she can distract herself with the Green Day performance and remind herself that only so much can happen in five minutes. Anyone can survive five minutes.

– – –

They eat the continental breakfast at the hotel the next morning. Bill has pancakes and Chris has cereal because, as she’ll tell anyone, there’s just something about cereal from a plastic container. She’s also three coffees ahead of where she was this time the day before, all of her nerves personifying themselves as desperation for caffeine. She’s responding to a work email on her phone while Bill has a call with Chase.

Somewhere on a race track in Florida, Chase is calling between practice and qualifying sessions. They talk every day during a race weekend–Bill and Chase–and it’s almost never about racing. Her dad might drop an occasional that’s not what I would’ve done or a well, that looked like fun, but that’s usually the end of race-talk. They used to fight like cats and dogs about driving when Chase was younger, so much so that Chris’ mom banned them from talking about racing inside the house for three straight years. The who of them are better now, now that Bill’s been able to let Chase find his own way and go through his own racing journey.

“Your sister is doing a Hot Lap today,” Bill says, and Chris can hear Chase’s laughter from the muffled speaker.

Bill and Chris are driven to the track on Saturday because traffic is so bad. It’s hot and windy and Chris has her window rolled down the entire drive, her fingers dancing through the dry air. She’s always loved the heat, the sun shining down on her skin, kissing her in a million different places all at the same time. She loves the heat, and the heat loves her.

The morning flies by. They start the day with a tour of the Ferrari garage, where they’re introduced, or re-introduced, to their drivers. They end up with a couple other very important people hunched over Charles’ car while he explains how much pressure needs to be applied to the brake pedal for the car to actually brake. Bill eats the semantics up, cars and their mechanics run thick in his blood, braided deeply into his DNA. Chris, however, has always enjoyed the more delicate things in life; the pink hair bows and the dollar store makeup kits and spinning herself dizzy in a flowy summer dress. She never spent exorbitant amounts of time at Dad’s engine shop or Grandpa’s Ford Dealership, it just wasn’t in her lane of interests. She sips another coffee–her fifth of the day–and listens attentively to Charles talk, bites her smile at his wild gesticulations. He’d make a good kindergarten teacher, she thinks, with his huge personality.

When the whole tour group is being shuffled out of the garage to be replaced by a new set of prying eyes, Charles makes a passing comment. See you later for the world’s slowest hot lap, he remarked, put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze as he moved past her.

She doesn’t know why, but she’d convinced herself that it wouldn’t actually be him she would be doing the lap with. It was qualifying day, after all. Surely, he had about a million and one better things to be doing than driving a random girl around a track a few times. She figured it would be a driver, but not one of the drivers.

After lunch, she makes her way back to Ferrari hospitality, to where she was told to be waiting at 1:10. She’s the only person who looks like they’re here on instruction. Nobody else is nervously picking at their cuticles or vibrating in place as a reaction to their seven coffees that morning.

She spent the night before grilling her dad about his experience, forcing him to give her a moment-by-moment breakdown of everything he remembered happening, from the safety briefing to the conversation afterwards. But, when it came time for Chris to actually do hers, there was no safety briefing warning her about the million different ways she could die. Instead, the same man who’d tracked her down the day before escorted her from the top floor of hospitality to the bottom, out the back into what she can best compare to an alleyway, and then to a red supercharged Ferrari.

Charles is there, talking to what appears to be a personal photographer and another man dressed in Ferrari garb. She re-introduces herself for a third time in twenty four hours. “I know your name, Chris,” Charles says, smiles and shakes her hand anyway. She doesn’t like the way her brain reacts to him saying her name like it belongs on his lips.

“Duh,” she laughs, “sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Right,” she nods. “Yeah, sorry.” Charles laughs out a sigh, cocks his head and smiles. Chris bites her tongue not to apologize again. It’s a reflex. She puffs out her laugh and shrugs.

If she manages to make it out of these couple laps with her life and the contents of her stomach still intact, she’s sure to still look like a clown–a fact she realizes as she pulls the tight helmet over her head. She’s worn racing helmets a handful of times, but it’s not muscle memory to her in the way it is to him. It takes her a minute to tighten the chin strap just right and despite his genuine offer to help her, Chris turns him down and blindly works her fingers under her neck until it’s just right.

“Why don’t you get a fun Hot Laps helmet?” She asks while she fights with the strap.

Charles knocks on the side of his helmet with his knuckle. “Custom fit. Safety reasons.”

Chris knows, she was just messing with him. She nods like she never could’ve guessed that was the reason. “My safety doesn’t matter?” She comments, pulls the strap tight for the final time.

“You think I’m going to crash?”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

“I would never crash with Chris Elliott in the car.” There he goes again, saying her name all annoyingly French and nice and easy.

“Whatever,” she says, turns away so he can’t see her squished cheeks flush pink against the polyester. He opens the passenger side door for her, knocks his knuckle on her helmet this time, and horribly mocks both her words and accent before shutting the door behind her.

Chris has her seatbelt buckled before he can get around the front of the car and into his seat. Her leg bounces anxiously against the floor mat. Charles starts the car and moves to shift into drive, but stops short. “Are you scared?” he asks, and in a moment of vulnerable honesty, she nods. She’s more than scared. She’s terrified, and despite his brief attempt to reassure her that it’s going to be fun, her leg is still bouncing when they peel off from the group already awaiting his return.

A hot lap, she’d come to learn in the last day or so, would be more accurately referred to as hot laps–plural, multiple, several. Three, to be exact. One out lap, one push lap, and one cool down lap. Three laps. Hot laps. They should really start referring to it as a plural.

The best thing she can compare it to is a roller coaster. The turns share the feeling you get at the tipping point, right before your body thinks you’re free falling. Her stomach is left behind three turns back and it never really catches up to the car once they start. The straights are like that first hill, fast and crazy in a way that pulls from her lips screams she hears before she consciously chooses to release. It’s like a roller coaster, if the person sitting next to you is completely unaffected by the ride and spends the entire time trying to carry out a conversation with you between your screams and their giggles. It’s like a roller coaster, if the cart never leaves the ground.

On the cool down lap, when they’re going at a speed that allows Chris to pick up her soul when they drive through turn four, he asks her if she’s single. It comes at her from left field.

“Are you flirting with me?”

He laughs, takes a hand off the wheel and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes!”

“Oh,” she says softly. If he notices the surprise in her tone, he doesn’t mention it. “I am.”

“Can I get your number?” She swears that his fingers are shakier than before as they hover over the paddle shift. They were sure-footed just minutes earlier, she’s sure of it. She’s sure of it, but there’s no way it’s a genuine observation. There’s no way she’s making him nervous.

She laughs, because what on God’s green Earth is a European Formula One driver going to do with a small town American girl’s phone number?

“I’m not abandoning my dad for a hookup,” she says, and he rolls his eyes, repeats the question. “Why do you want it?”

“Because, Chris Elliott,” she wants to scrape the way he says her name out of his voice box and pin it in a scrapbook. It’s like a tick, the way it burrows into her skin. Nobody should be allowed to make her name sound like that. “You are a very beautiful girl, and when a guy sees a beautiful girl, they act like an idiot and ask for her number.”

“Oh, my God,” she giggles, shakes her head and looks out the window like it might ground her, or like it might reveal that she really is in some fever dream state and none of this is real. She’s not even in Texas, maybe. That’s how insane this whole conversation is to her.

“Too cheesy?” He asks, grimaces. She shakes her head, holds her hand out for his phone.

“Just cheesy enough.”

When they get back to where they started, someone asks Chris if she’d had a good time. She nods, flattens down the static-electricity charged flyaways on her head and tells them yes, even if she’ll be just a little bit nauseous for the rest of the day. It’s not a lie, either, she did have fun. She was scared out of her mind, but in a way that makes her happy she did it.

They pose for a photo together in front of the car, the picture snapped by the only guy with a camera around his neck, the only one besides Chris not covered head to toe in Ferrari branding. When they pose, Charles’ arm wraps around her lower back and, almost like he remembers himself in the middle of the action, his hand doesn’t close around her side. Instead, it hovers just beyond her body, open and stiff and flat. How gentlemanly. “Good luck tomorrow,” she says.

He nods his thanks, “I hope I see you around this weekend,” he adds, and then they go their separate ways. Good thing, too, because she’s still blushing over it when she gets back to her dad in the Champion’s club. Bill is too distracted by the live feed on Chase’s qualifying laps on his tiny phone screen to notice Chris’ presence, much less the coloring of her cheeks. He qualifies third and they celebrate quietly with drinks from the bar and FP3 on the big screens.

They stumble into more NASCAR old-timers while in the Champion’s Club and Chris spends the time fifth-wheeling their conversations about Chase and watching the second half of qualifying on one of the TVs.

She doesn’t really understand the format of the weekend. In theory, she understands the basics, didn’t have to read Formula One for Dummies on the plane ride over, but the intricacies of it are beyond her. In NASCAR, drivers are split into two groups and then are only given, at max, two laps to set their qualifying times. It varies depending on the track that weekend, but it always hits some of the same points. From what she can gather from the low-volume televisions mounted on every surface around her, F1 is definitely different.

They head back to the hotel directly after qualifying to ‘beat the traffic’ which is code for Chris is still nauseous and they’re both feeling a little too heat exhausted. They stop for dinner on the way back, at a barbeque place right by their hotel. Bill orders the chopped brisket with potato salad and Chris gets the pulled pork sandwich with a tomato zucchini salad.

Chris has been really busy with work, with settling into the new routine with her new group of students, and Bill wants to hear all about it. She always struggles in September and October, feels inadequate every time the other teachers find their footing with their new class weeks before she does. It’s the first time alotta ‘em have been in a school, Bill reminds her and she shrugs it off, tries to find something more upbeat to talk about.

Chris and Bill have really gotten close over the past couple years. Growing up, she and her sister Chandler were massive daddy’s girls, had him wrapped around their little fingers from the moment they came into the world. But, when Chase started to really take racing seriously, the girls lost a lot of their dad to their brother and spent the majority, if not all, of their time with their Mom. As a teenager, Chris did what all sixteen year old girls do and rebelled against any and every rule in the book. While Chandler was touring colleges and getting 1550s on her SAT and singing in the church choir, Chris had other plans. Whether it was stubbornly refusing to clean her half of the shared room with her big sister, ratting Chase out for coming home at 2am drunk, or sneaking out of the second-story window to go out with her all-too-old boyfriend, she tested all of the waters. It wasn’t until college, until she moved away to Athens and was out of the house for the first time in her life that she realized just how important family was to her. She’s been attempting to make up for lost time since.

That night when she plugs her phone into the charger and shuts it off for the night, she realizes she’d been half expecting a late night text from Charles. It didn’t come, and disappointed isn’t the right word for the tiny little pit in her stomach because she wasn’t really expecting anything to come from typing her number into his contacts. It’s not disappointment, it’s something closer to acceptance or rejection, maybe. It’s not like he would’ve been searching out anything but a hookup, anyways, and Chris made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t into that idea.

She would never hear from him again, and that’s how it should be. The whole interaction turning into anything but a story she can tell in a couple months when she’s drunk would be entirely too complicated of an outcome.

She doesn’t let herself think about it any longer, leaves her phone face down on the side table and tucks herself into bed.

– – –

Traffic on race day is true-crime inducing. They’re driven, again, escorted and still spend an hour and a half in the backseat of an SUV. Bill and Chris watch from the VIP stands and Chris has never seen anything like this, especially not at COTA. Even Talladega and Daytona barely hold a candle to this spectacle.

If she has one critique, it’s that F1 should really hire some B-List at best celebrity to scream drivers, start your engines! At the start of the race like they do in NASCAR. It would really add some flare, she thinks.

She and Bill share Chris’ airpods, one in each of their ears listening to the NASCAR broadcast. Charles starts twelfth, for whatever reason. She can’t be bothered to look into it, knows it’ll probably be a penalty she doesn’t understand and she’ll be tumbling down a rabbit hole before she knows what’s happened to her.

While it’s not Chase’s best race–he finishes fourteenth with a single sigh from Bill–Charles puts on a show, fights his tires all the way up into third.

They watch the podium celebrations on the TV screens and nobody looks happy to be up there. They look miserable, almost, and she understands it to an extent. It’s hard to have energy after a race, she’s witnessed it first hand more times than she can count. It’s hard, especially at the end of the season. Burn-out is real, but still. They look bored. She didn’t know spraying champagne could look so tired.

Bill grumpily flies them home to Georgia late Sunday night. He’d wanted to wait until Monday morning, after all the billionaires and their super-jets take off right after the race, but Chris refused to miss another day of work this early in the school year, not when she was already going to be missing time in December for her brother’s wedding.

Bill’s been flying planes since before any of his kids were born. His most recent purchase is a Cessna Conquest II that he uses to fly the family around for short distances. In another gene that skipped the females in the family, Chandler, Chris, and their mom all prefer to be passengers. Chase, however, followed in Dad’s footsteps once more in becoming an avid aviation fan.

By the time they take off, any thought Chris had of getting a text from Charles has faded far into obscurity. He’d probably gotten dozens of numbers from girls this weekend. He was probably at a club somewhere right now still pulling women. Women more his type, probably. He seems like he’d be more into the refined type, the girls without the ‘cheap’ accents who were all worldly and spoke seventeen languages fluently and had long legs that carried them down runways across Europe every other weekend.

Little southern girls get texts from little southern boys, that’s how it goes. That's how it’s always gone, and Chris is beyond naive to think anything different for even a moment.

She grades papers on the flight home. Purple pen, because she thinks that color is fun and red is too cruel to grade with. Puffy stickers for everyone, even the kids who aren’t anywhere near the right track because she doesn’t want anyone to feel less than just because they struggle a bit more. Chris has always been a firm believer that the student is never the problem. If someone isn’t learning what she’s teaching, she needs to adjust the way she teaches it to cater to their learning style.

It’s her job to teach them, not their job to learn.

Joris has been laughing at Charles from the hotel room armchair for fifteen minutes now, beyond entertained by his best friend’s restless pacing, providing absolutely zero aid to his current predicament. This act has been going on for some time now. Charles, pacing for five minutes before pulling out his phone and typing up an opening message to Chris. Each time, he starts to read it out to Joris and then stops himself short, deletes it, and paces for five more minutes.

Hey, Chris. This is Ch–no, that’s stupid.

Sorry it took me a minute to text–absolutely not.

What’s up? It’s Charles, how–someone should just stop him from speaking to women all together.

There’s half a dozen renditions before Joris breaks. “Mate? What is your problem?” He finally asks. “It’s just a girl.”

“I know,” Charles sighs, “I know.”

“Then why can’t you send her a text?”

“Because.” He doesn’t really know why he can’t land on a message, why everything he types sounds entirely too casual or formal or nothing at all like what he would say to another human being. This isn’t a problem that he’s used to having. It’s the in-person flirting that fucks him up, not the texts and DMs and comments. She was just… he doesn’t know what she was. She was just. End of sentence.

It’s no help that he doesn’t know American texting culture, unfamiliar with how long he’s supposed to wait to send a message or what he’s supposed to say in the opening text.

“Here,” Joris says, holds his hand out for the phone. “I’ve got the perfect text.”

“Don’t send it,” Charles warns, but passes the phone to his friend.

“I… won’t,” Joris says slowly, struggling to multi-task. He doesn’t type for more than a few seconds and then hands the phone back to Charles, with the message already sent. Charles’ look of sheer panic is met with a smile and a chef’s kiss from Joris.

She turns her phone off while Bill is shutting the plane engine down in the hangar. Because of his love of aviation, Bill had bought some land out in the woods a couple decades ago and turned it into the family’s private airstrip for their planes. Elliott Field, they coined it, stored all their extra vehicles out on the property. She slips it into her back pocket as her and Bill disembark and lock up the place, and the entire time she can feel it vibrating, the notifications from the hour and a half flight catching up now that she’s on the ground again.

It’s not until she’s in her car that she checks them, pulls her phone out to plug it into the aux and play some music for the drive back to her house. Right at the top of the dozens of notifications is a message from an unknown number with an unfamiliar area code.

[one unread message] the notification reads. She unlocks her phone to check the message.

She closes the messages app on her phone and opens up Spotify, shuffles her favorite playlist. She doesn’t reply to his text, doesn’t know if she wants to or even what she might say back. She’s sleepy, more than ready for bed after a long weekend in the sun, excited to be back with her students bright and early tomorrow morning.

The text from the cute race car driver can wait for another day. An issue for tomorrow, maybe.

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thesamoanqueen · 2 years ago

Text

Personal Hell

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: SMUT; First time; Bodyguard!Roman( a real body-guard); hit of past non-con/food disorders so please dont read if you’re not comfortable.

A/N: I don't know how it turned out in the end. I wrote the fic at different times due to personal commitments, but I still hope it's not a total mess. Requested by @romanmydaddy , hope you like it dear~

He mumbled something under his breath, a red trickle down his chin from the slap she'd given him, and his eyes snapped up at her, sending her into a panic. She had to do something, she had to push him away, come back down, she had to call-

- Trash. - said a voice to her right and neither she nor the man who held her by the arm had time to turn around.

The impact that pulled him down was sudden, as if a car had hit him full-on and thrown him to the end of the hallway. She crouched against the wall with a choked cry, but she was more surprised than scared at that point, she knew who that voice belonged to and when she turned to look, Roman was already on top of the dude. She felt his knuckles slamming into his face, shoulders crashing into the carpet, and when the crying stopped, a slimy, wet sound reached her. The carpet was getting dirty…

***

Sitting in the back seat of the car, she listened to the noise of the dinner – or party? – which was being held at that home. It echoed between the walls of the spacious garage, a distant echo, but as always the matter did not concern her. She felt panicked, confused, it had all happened so fast. She didn't tremble, she was safe there, but her hands were cold on the dress that her mom had forced her to wear. She looked up hesitantly, watching Roman finish cleaning his own hands with what was left of his dress shirt. It was dirty with that dude’s blood and now he was wearing a gym shirt taken from the trunk that made him look even more imposing, she had the impression that every muscle in his body was still tense, ready to spring against anyone and reduce him like that man. Just the thought of him made her look at his hands, they were clean now, but his knuckles were red, scratched and she felt the urge to do something, anything to get them back to the way they were before.

She didn't move though, she couldn't and honestly she wasnt brave enough. Roman had been her personal bodyguard for months now, one of those big city contractor had recommended him to her father when things for the family had gone badly and he had placed him behind her without thinking twice. She was sure her father wasn't as sure now as he was then—Roman scared him—but she was and she wasn't going to trade that bond for anything else. Assuming that theirs was a real bond, which led to that stalemate and having a head full of wishes that she didn't know if she could ever grant. Yes, he had defended her, technically he had acted as a shield for her, but…

Roman was a grown man, he was from a big city, he had a life in Florida as far as she knew and this was not a teen novel. He had opened up to her, talked, seemed to appreciate her company unlike anyone else in that city, but it was also true that her father paid a salary into his bank account for each week spent with her. Theirs was an off-balance relationship and in that moment, seeing what happened to his hands because of her, Y/N realized it more than ever. He was angry, probably regretting the day he had agreed to babysit her. He could have been elsewhere, with his hands intact and a beautiful woma-

- Who the fuck he was? Why were you two together? – she heard him growl in an interrogative tone.

She wished he hadn't thought about this guy because surely what had happened would have repercussions. The dude had worked a few times with her father, bringing his mining machinery to their establishment and now he would never do it again, perhaps he would never work with anyone again, in the condition Roman had reduced him. But that scared her less than it should in that moment, in that moment she could only think of something else.

- We weren't together, I... I wanted some air – she specified quickly and Roman's eyes widened for an instant.

She didn't want him to get the wrong idea. She wasn't that kind of woman, she wasn't like the mayor's daughter or her schoolmates. Maybe to some people she was just a sad, pathetic and a bit too round-headed fool, but she still believed in that sort of thing and would never allow a stranger such confidences. Roman shouldn't have known about her food disorders, she would have been too ashamed to admit the real reason she had locked herself in that bathroom in front of him, but she didn't want him to think badly of her. That would have been even worse than getting caught with your head on the toilet.

- Did you run away from me to get some air in a hallway? Do you think im stupid? - he almost yelled at her and she grabbed the edge of the seat, her legs banging on the bodywork.

She was used to being treated badly, but Roman was on another level. He was creepy and it was the first time he had spoken to her like that, she wasn't ready.

- What? No-

- He was touching you. - he insisted, his forearms resting on the car door and his entire figure to shade her.

Her head jerked, heart pounding and stomach tightening. She didn't understand the meaning of that conversation, she didn't understand why he was giving her so much. It hadn't been her fault, she hadn't voluntarily gone to that guy with the rat eyes. She had gone away without being seen, taking advantage of his moment of distraction to inflict yet another useless torture on herself and she knew she shouldn't have, she had risked his job out of selfishness and she was terribly sorry, but what had happened after that wasn't her fault.

-I didn't want to-he had smoked, I don't think he was fine. He spoke strangely, it was all strange, it was him. I wanted to go back, I was coming back to you. I'm sorry to cause you trouble, but really, I didn't mean to and your hands are full of scratches now- she began to rave with eyes watering, looking everywhere but at Roman who crouched down to be face to face with her.

But her feat failed and her words died in her throat with a strangled cry of terror, when she felt one of his reddened hands, take her by the throat. Roman had never tried any approach and she herself had never really been surprised by it, after all they were two worlds apart. It was the first time it had happened, it was the first time she had felt his hands on her for anything beyond helping her into a car or down a ladder. Her eyes widened, feeling a slight pressure and she swallowed hard, he was as serious as she'd ever seen him.

- No one can touch you. Nobody.

His voice was rough, deep as if came from the bottom of a well and a shiver made her spine tingle. She had the urge to run or barricade herself behind the tinted windows of the car for the rest of her life, but she wasn't sure if her body agreed and Roman was holding her with no intention of letting go. Heat emanated from him and she felt it on her, her stomach was crumpled again yet this time it wasn't painful, there was no empty feeling, at least not here.

- … y-yes. - she murmured softly as his fingers tightened a little tighter and his brown eyes invited her to reply.

Maybe she should have added something, given a true answer, but she didn't really trust her abilities at that moment and honestly didn't know what to say. Having him so close, feeling him on her was confusing in a way she had never felt before and Y/N was certain that if her skin and the shadow of the cockpit hadn't prevented it, she would have been red as a tomato.

- Yes what? - Roman urged her and she swallowed again.

One of his knees had forced its way between her legs, demanding space without her noticing. It was an awkward position, her body seemed at the point of self-combustion and for a second, in the chaos that was inside her head, she felt like crying thinking about her mother's insistence on that dress. It was so tight, it didn't fit her and now that Roman was so close, she felt even more uncomfortable than when she’d worn it.

- Yes what Y/N? - Roman asked louder and she jerked suddenly, as if he had thrown a bucket of ice water.

- Nobody has to touch me – she repeated like a good student, lowering her gaze for a second on the hand with which he was holding her.

It had moved up a little, just below her jaw and his thumb was now rubbing against her skin, forcing her to tilt her chin to his liking. It was hot and every stroke made her body itch, she was almost certain she was shaking at that moment, but Roman didn't seem to mind so maybe it was just a feeling, maybe she was so confused that didn't even understand what was going on. She wasn't good at that stuff, she didn't have the slightest experience and as far as she knew, maybe it wasn't even what she was wanting to imagine. But Y/N felt his other hand caressing her bare arm, up and down to then move elsewhere, to the side and her eyes widened, bringing them back to Roman's. He was no longer busy piercing her, his magnetic gaze had drifted lower, to her lips, as well as his thumb and Y/N let out a heated breath that was all too loud.

He didn't seem to care about her soft cheeks or the curve of her hips or all the extras her body had and that she fought so hard. No one had ever touched her like that, no one had ever looked at her that way, not even the one and only boy she had ever dated, but he wasn't worth it, they were just two kids then. The pastor of their community would have told her that she was behaving like a lamb when faced with the devil’s temptation, but for the first time in her life, she liked that danger. She suddenly realized that she was willing to be eaten by him, that she was willing to give him anything as long as he didn't stop that temptation, as long as he continued to look at her that way.

- I don't care who the fuck they are, no one will come near you as long as I'm around. You are not for them. Y’understand? - Roman established in a low, hungry growl.

- Yes sir – she nodded as if in a trance and he lifted his gaze from her cleavage, from her neck, to point at her again, this time with a pleased grin at that answer.

- Good girl.

From what dark hiding place that part of her had crept out, it wasn't clear, but she didn't even have time to investigate. The speed with which Roman moved took her by surprise. She felt him pull her against him, bullying and slamming his lips against hers, in a kiss that swallowed up not only her cry of pure terror of hers, but also the last shred of lucidity left of hers. Rookie and flustered, she just grabbed his shirt as he pushed his way into her mouth without asking permission. Y/N felt him explore the inside of her mouth, force her tongue and his taste, so inexplicably good, he wrested another noise from her, this time awfully like a moan. She didn't know what to do, how far she might go, and for a brief moment she feared she'd done something wrong, when at her moan, at her awkward attempt to reciprocate, Roman answered with a hungry growl. She felt him vibrate against her, his chest heaving, his muscles tensing under her fingers, the kiss growing even more ravenous.

She was out of breath, her lungs were about to burn and shrink to two deflated balloons, but she didn't want to stop, she didn't want that moment between them to end just because she wasn't used to that kind of attention. For some strange reason, Roman was intent on devouring her alive and all she wanted was to let him do it, help him in that endeavor and burn that enveloping feeling into her mind. Just the idea that he could do that to her after putting up with her all those months, when he could have had thousands of other women…

Thoughts, doubts striving to take control of her mind, suddenly seemed to rumble in her head and when he eased her back into the car seat, in an awkward pose to say the least, she fidgeted. It was really happening and as good as it was, panic, reality assaulted her and Y/N tried to wriggle away, but Roman just didn't seem like the type of man to give up. His hands, so large and still red, forced her to stay still and when one slipped under her buttock, lifting the dress without too many talking, a moan shook her body to the tip of her feet. She was terrified of being seen by someone, being seen by him… but everything outside and inside of her seemed on fire, her mind was foggy and the pressure of his body left her no way out. When his mouth pulled away from hers, she gasped, but the break didn't last more than a second and the contact of his full mouth along her neck, brought out another scream which she tried to disguise, her eyes closed to shield herself from shame. Roman must have found it amusing because a noise, maybe a laugh, shrugged his shoulders and in another circumstance she’d have worried since that was usually how jokes against her started, but his mouth against her cleavage made her squirm like a possessed animal. She kicked, not caring about the heels she was still wearing and the confined space, waved her arms, pushing palms against his shoulders and Roman barely opened one eye, slipping his hand under the fabric of the dress. She felt his mouth suck, bite, try to mark her without the slightest care of what anyone might think seeing her and that was enough to distract her as he worked his way between her legs. When one of his long fingers dug into her walls, where no one had ever gone before, Y/N grabbed him by the hair, pulling with all her strength as if her life depended on it.

- Easy babe, easy…- he said from her breast, but she wasn't there anymore.

She knew it was only a finger, yet the intrusion was giving her the impression of being suddenly split open, as if Roman had found the exact spot where her body had been glued together and ripped away the duck tape that kept Y/N from crumbling. She felt her eyes tingle, breath catch and her stomach turn completely, she was on the verge of something she didn't know and it terrified her. She broke free from the grip of his hands and covered her face, holding her cleavage with her other hand, heart pounding loudly as Roman blew his skin against her.

- Dont cover your face- he growled dangerously – I want to see you hot for me – moving his finger.

She felt it rubbing inside her, sinking lower and lower, a wet noise filling the car. She tried to squeeze her legs, but he was applying pressure and the movement was slowly killing her, she was sure of it. She had no idea how anyone could be capable of so much with just one finger and when after a while he added another, her ragged breaths turned into something else. She screamed, unable to hide well and ended up biting into her palm, nails digging into his dark hair again, back arching as the pace increased.

- No… dont hold back. I want it. – she had no idea what he was saying, she didn't even know what her name was or where she was anymore.

He was sinking and turning and touching parts she didn't even know she had and when his thumb landed on the outside, pressing against her clit, Y/N exploded completely shaking under his weight. The insides of her lids went white, mouth dropped open in a noise she never thought was capable of, and the insides of her folded around Roman's fingers, who persisted in drawing them in and out of her, smearing her moods everywhere. She was convinced that at any moment she would lose her senses, sinking who knows where with her sins and her broken heart.

Roman was the kind of man any sane woman would want. And wasn't just his looks, though that played a significant role. He had always been perfect with her, nothing like the men who had surrounded her growing up and as much as Y/N always reminded herself that this was part of his job, her stupid heart couldn't help to fall into the trap. She had fallen badly for him and that, that moment, was something she had never been prepared for even in her dreams. Maybe wasn't real, maybe that dude with rat eyes had convinced her to actually smoke and now she was imagining it all because of some drug, but she didn't want it to stop. She didn't want it to end.

She looked at him, breath ragged and almost desperate, she gripped his forearms, leaning in to kiss him. Roman smiled, she was probably ridiculous, but he reciprocated anyway and that was enough to make her gain some courage, pushing her to reach out more to him. She gripped his broad shoulders that had so often shielded her from the rest of the world, felt his muscular chest where Y/N always wished she could hide and held on to his neck, feeling his blood pressure pulsing. His growls shook her to toes and ignoring her own sanity or her soul, Y/N opened her mouth, allowing him to invade again. She moaned against him, his tongue torturing her again and her flustering continued to rummage everywhere, up his hips, up his back, until she felt him thrust his whole being against her. The contact with his boner, badly hidden by the pants made her squeal and Roman bit her mouth, tugging at her so she wouldn’t run away.

- R-Roman I…- she tried to explain herself, but she didn't really know what to say or what to do.

- Stay still – he ordered and Y/N trembled silently, seeing him undo the belt.

Just the sight of his hard cock, stiff and already wet, would have been enough to set her on real fire if only a human could. She was tempted to close her eyes once more, but that wasn't what she wanted, she didn't want to run away and when she felt his hands gripping her legs, it felt like a dangerous beast was making its way over her. She curled up against the seat, half of her hip already jutting out and her mouth opened and closed silently as he nuzzled the tip against her soft center. A moan shook her and Roman moved his head to one side, his expression focused and his lips pursed.

- Dont push me babe or I won’t be able to be gentle - he warned her, slipping slowly inside her folds with a terrifying verse.

A sudden burning ripped through her and a feeling of fullness filled her almost to the belly. She didn't understand how something that size could make room inside her, but she didn't care anymore, at that moment she was just trying to survive herself because had suddenly forgotten how to breathe and didn't want to give Roman any more problems. She tried to move, trying to find relief, but he planted his hands on top of her head and held her still for what seemed like an eternity. She felt it pounding inside her, his forehead pressing against hers, breath slamming into her face. As Roman backed away and sank again, something wet followed and a new noise welled up from her chest in a tone she didn't even believe belonged to her.

- Ahh! – a slow stroke and then another.

- Hm, you take me so well… so good beneath me - Roman gasped on top of her and her walls tightened.

That simple spasm was enough to drive him crazy and the burning was soon replaced by an unknown pleasure, as in the grip of a blind fury, he pounded against her. The tip slammed somewhere inside her, relentlessly and forcefully, threatening to rip her soul out with each lunge. Y/N felt her body writhe, the same heat felt thanks to his fingers filling her and rolling eyes behind her head, Roman who undeterred pulled her against him in a flood of soggy noises that came from their bodies. Something was leaking down between her legs, onto the car seat, but she had no perception of anything other than his stiff cock throbbing inside her. He was spreading her, increasing the pace stroke after stroke and for an infinite time, between continuous tremors and moments of white pleasure, Roman continued to ruin her until his thrusts became sloppy, deeper and suddenly he came out of her without a single word. Unprepared for the lack her body felt, Y/N leaned over to look at him, makeup ruined like everything else, and saw him tighten his grip on his boner, giving it a couple more strokes before emptying himself onto the garage in long whitish streams. She bit her lip and instinctively squeezed her legs, watching him catch his breath, leaning all his weight on the car door and then running a hand through his dark soft hair, wiping away the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead.

He was so inexplicably awesome he took her breath away and the sight pushed her one last time over the edge. She shivered bumpy, empty, against the dark fabric of the car as the wave of yet another climax passed through her and hands tightly against her chest, listening to the sound of her own heart echo. Gasping, Y/N lost track of time, enjoying that sense of unnatural peace and when she opened her eyes again, she was amazed that was still lying down looking at the roof of the car and not burning in the flames of hell.

If only her parents had found out… the thought, made her straighten up, looking around anxiously, but her eyes didn't travel far. Roman was flawless again as always and he looked at her with an amused smile from the door he had leaned against, shielding her from the rest of the garage.

- It's a mess, first your hands, now this... your job, they'll be mad at you, I-I-! – she tried to speak, but panic struck hera gain.

- Breath. Ain’t going anywhere - she heard him reassure her with a dangerous look and his soft, red hand slid on her cheek, caressing her with the same fingers that had managed to bring her to the edge of abyss.

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