Page 5 of Insidious


  Smirking, he went on, “I realize that wasn’t exactly a romantic proposal. I’ll be honest: I’m not looking for romance. You may or may not know that your family is a bit dysfunctional.”

  Dysfunctional? He had no fucking idea.

  Though my nerves were stretched to the point of fraying, I tried to quiet the hysteria in my mind, as I comprehended the idea that I could never have possibly foreseen this, or that once again, I underestimated my parents’ ability to ruin my life. Fighting my flight response, I gave Stewart Harrington my full attention and calmest voice. It was a trick I’d taught myself as a child, a way to appear calm to others when in reality all hell was breaking loose on the inside.

  “Stewart, I’m eighteen. I don’t have to do anything my parents say. I make my own decisions.”

  “Yes, you do. You won’t be forced to accept this arrangement, but before you decide, I recommend you hear the entire story.”

  Fine, I’d hear him out. Years of private education and finishing school taught me manners. I’d hear him out, and then politely tell him to fuck off.

  “Your stepfather has an affinity for gambling. He has made a few bad choices.”

  Yes, like thinking that I’d ever be willing to sell myself to save his ass. The scenario was too obscene to comprehend. “I don’t really care what Randall has—”

  “Victoria, don’t interrupt until the facts are out there.”

  Taking a deep breath, I nodded.

  “As I was saying, Randall likes to play the horses and dogs and well, anywhere he can place a bet, he does. Your mother has a secret, too. She may have kicked the alcohol, but her new drug of choice can be as equally destructive. It’s shopping. She’s been known to spend a hundred thousand in an afternoon. The two fuel each other. She needs his winnings to support her addiction. That all works well, as long as Randall wins. When his streak first ended, he thought he could gamble his way out. That’s what happens with the addiction. Every next bet has the potential to save both him and his reputation. However, as you can imagine, since we’re sitting here, it hasn’t worked. Each bet dug him deeper and deeper into debt—”

  “Randall is a doctor. He makes good money.”

  Stewart’s gaze darkened at my interruption.

  I didn’t care if he approved of my speaking or not. This was my life and my future we were discussing casually, like a movie or book. I needed clarification. “I still don’t understand…”

  “Perhaps you should try listening?” he said, somewhat condescendingly.

  Pressing my lips together I stared, lifting my brows for him to continue.

  “As I was saying, Randall’s debt grew. He tried to work a deal with the gentleman who loaned him the money. These types of gentlemen are not interested in deals and they don’t take kindly to unpaid debts.

  “Randall came to me for help. I have money that I can lend. The thing is…” He paused. “…I don’t need it. Therefore, I decided that in exchange for the money, I wanted something else…” He reached for my knee. “…something less conventional in return. You see, since my wife passed, I have found myself in need of companionship. I have a reputation, and there’s nothing like a pretty, sexy young thing like you to send the world of stuck-up assholes into a frenzy. I want them to talk and notice; however, I don’t want to feed the paparazzi. A young wife is better than the string of dates or dealing with hired women to fill the roles I desire.”

  Did he equate the two? A wife or a prostitute? My voice raised an octave or two. “I’m not a whore. I cannot be bought.”

  “You are not a whore, and I don’t mean to insinuate that you are. However, anyone can be bought. You come from a socially acceptable family, and though young, you can be taught to deal with those stuck-up assholes. And, because you’re young, you can be trained to fulfill my requirements.”

  No longer able to sit, I stood and paced about the large room. “This is ridiculous. I’m not for sale, and I’m not a dog. I won’t be trained.”

  “Victoria, I assure you, you’re not a dog. Bestiality is not my thing. As I said, you’re not a whore, but once you agree to this marriage, you will be my whore.”

  “I don’t understand. I’m not selling myself to save Randall or Marilyn. They wouldn’t lift a finger for me. Why would I do this for them?”

  “Didn’t you wonder why they weren’t willing to pay for your continued education?”

  “No,” I answered unequivocally. “I know why.”

  Stewart lifted his eyebrow in question.

  “They hate me and everything about me. That’s fine, I don’t need them. I have a job arranged.”

  “At a small insurance company, as a receptionist, making a little over minimum wage.”

  My mouth opened. I hadn’t shared my job with anyone—anyone except Val. “How do you know about that? How do you know so much about my family?”

  “Vic-tor-ia,” he said, standing and drawing out the three syllables. “I wouldn’t be offering you this opportunity if I hadn’t had you thoroughly investigated. I know everything there is to know about you. I can’t have a wife with skeletons in her closet.”

  “I’m not marrying you.”

  Coming closer, his words slowed. “Because a studio apartment and minimum wage is better than living between this penthouse and my estate just outside the city limits? Or because you don’t want to help your sister?”

  What did he know about my sister? Val meant everything to me. I would do anything for my younger sister. After all, it wasn’t like our parents cared. We were all each other had. Keeping my eyes away from Stewart’s smug expression, I asked, “What do you know about my sister?” Before he could respond, I walked toward the windows; the ocean was rough with white-capped waves glistening out toward the horizon.

  Stewart’s voice came from behind me, his tone steadfast in his knowledge. “I know everything about both of you. I know everything about your no-good stepfather, your mother, and their spoiled boys. I even know about your biological father.”

  Tears unexpectedly filled my eyes. Despite my better judgment I turned back toward this man who had many more answers than I imagined. “I haven’t heard from him, ever. My mother said he hasn’t contacted her since Val was little. What do you know about him?”

  Grasping my shoulders, his large hands ignited my skin as his knowledge and power flowed through his touch. For just a split second, concern showed in the depths of his blue eyes. “I know he doesn’t need to be your concern.” Maintaining his grip, he continued, “Now, to your other questions. I know that Valerie won’t be able to stay at the academy for her senior year of high school nor will her post-high-school education be paid. I know that you have every reason to hate your parents, and perhaps you do, but you don’t hate their boys, your half-brothers. I know you don’t want them to lose their home and very likely their parents.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Those men to whom Randall owes the money—they won’t accept less than payment in full. If they don’t get it soon, Randall’s life will pacify them for a short time. It’ll appear like an accident, but it will happen. How do you think your mother will handle that? Do you really want to be responsible for his life?”

  Did I? It wouldn’t be the first life I’d been blamed for taking, yet would it end at Randall? Did I care? Did I care if my mother drank herself into oblivion? I didn’t know. Then again, what about Marcus and Lyle? What about Val? What would happen to them?

  “Stewart, I don’t even know you…” my words trailed away as I turned back to the window. Randall and my mother could dive into the ocean as far as I was concerned, but the boys? They’re still so young… and Val? One more year before her future can begin. It was too much—too much to comprehend.

  Fighting the emotional overload, I closed my eyes and tried to grasp what had just happened. As I did, Stewart’s warmth alerted me that he was directly behind me. With my overwrought nerves, I startled when his hands brushed my arms.

  “Vi
ctoria…” Stewart’s voice resonated deeper, more breathy. “…you’re beautiful. I’ve had time to consider this agreement. I have to admit, as I’ve watched you for the last few weeks, my anticipation at getting to know you has increased. You’re truly astounding: so strong despite the lack of support you’ve been offered.” His hands continued to brush my arms in a ghostly caress.

  “But I don’t know you. I don’t love you.”

  His voice echoed near my ear, each word closer than the last. “You will get to know me.”

  I began to turn toward him, to stop the uneasy feelings his proximity spurred, when he stopped me, his tenor leaving no room for compromise. “Don’t turn around.”

  Involuntarily I shuddered at his command.

  “Put your hands on the window. Let me see those pretty little fingers.”

  I’d never heard a man speak with such unquestioning authority. Obediently, I splayed my fingers on the cool glass, thankful that I’d left my purse on the sofa. Caging me within his arms, his hands came to rest beside mine. The contrast in size was as startling as his deep voice as it exhaled breathily onto my neck.

  “I’m sure you’re concerned about our age difference. Let me reassure you, I’ve taken good care of myself. That’s the thing: most women my age haven’t. As I said before, I have preferences, things I like and things I don’t.”

  One hand disappeared from sight, and soon brushed the side of my right breast. Sucking in a gasp, I closed my eyes. Why was I allowing this? I should scream or run.

  His head dipped to my shoulder as a shudder went through me and a new sensation stirred within me. “Victoria, I like that strength I mentioned. I like that even though you don’t know me, you’ve been honest with me about your family. I like that you haven’t left these negotiations and are considering this agreement. I like that from this view I can see your hard nipples beading under that black dress. I like that you didn’t turn around when I told you not to, and I like that you’re aroused.”

  “I’m not,” I lied, as the unusual feelings made my core clench. It made no sense. I didn’t know this man, didn’t want this man, yet his mere words were doing something to me.

  The hand that had brushed my breast came back up and slipped down the front of my dress. As I gasped and began to move, his deep voice stopped my movement. “I said to keep your hands on the window. I didn’t give you permission to move. Did I?”

  When I failed to respond, his fingers found my nipple and rolled the hard nub, in a painful twist. “Victoria, I asked you a question. Answer me, or I’ll need to get your attention another way.”

  It took all of my concentration to form the words and not think about what his hands were doing. I didn’t know if I liked it or hated it. My mind and my body were at war, and I was caught in the middle. As his fingers sought the other nipple, I remembered how to speak. “No. You didn’t give me permission.”

  “Good girl. Now, don’t move your hands and tell me the truth. This is turning you on, isn’t it?”

  “I-I don’t know… I’m scared.”

  His lips brushed my neck. Instead of fighting, I tilted my head back against his chest to give him better access.

  Sighing, he moaned. “Damn, girl, you’re sexier up close than I ever imagined. Do you know how hot that answer was?” His fingers that had just painfully twisted my hard nub caressed my same breast. Suddenly, his touch was warm and electric. “You may be frightened, but it’s not of me: it’s of what you’re feeling. Your nipples are telling me you’re feeling the same thing I am. They’re saying that you like this.” With both hands on my breasts, he lowered the top of my dress, fully exposing me to the window. Thankfully, we were stories above the city. “Do you know how else I know you’re aroused?”

  Forming words had become increasingly difficult. Therefore, I shook my head.

  “I smell it, and darling, you smell fantastic. I bet you taste fantastic.” Nuzzling my exposed neck and shoulder, he continued, “Have you ever let a boy go down on you?”

  “N-No, I’ve never…”

  “There’re so many things that I can show you, so many highs. Darling, if you and I can make this agreement happen, I promise you highs like you’ve never imagined.”

  “This-this isn’t right.”

  “Does it feel wrong?”

  I wanted to say yes, it felt wrong, but it didn’t. “My parents can’t do this to me. It isn’t fair.”

  Continuing his torment of my breasts, Stewart continued, “They aren’t the first. Think of this like an old-world arranged marriage. Do you think those lords and ladies didn’t think of their daughters as a commodity, as a means to an end? Their daughters were nothing more than a way to infiltrate into a better family, a better way of life. Just like a young virgin married off to a king, consider yourself a payment to save your family’s standing. If you agree to this, they can go on fooling the upper-crust snobs.”

  “B-But I don’t care about them—”

  “No? What about your sister? Do you want Val to have the education she deserves? Would you like to have so much money and influence that you could tell your mother to fuck off?”

  I’d never dreamt of that, never even considered it. Was that the opportunity staring me in the face? Did I want that? Wait! No, I wasn’t selling myself for them—but Val?

  My internal debate came to an immediate end with another painful twist of my nipple. “Ouch.”

  “I asked you if you wanted to help your sister and outclass your mother at the same time.”

  “I want to help Val.” Once I spoke, the pinch morphed to a pleasant caress. “I-I don’t know about my… Oh!” Stewart’s hips tilted forward, stalling the thoughts of my family. He pulled me against his chest and introduced my lower back to what I was sure was a huge erection.

  “Victoria, I can only imagine how tight and wet you are right now. I know my cock will stretch that tight pussy in the most incredible way.”

  I’d never heard anyone speak this way. As much as I wanted it to disgust me, it didn’t. Powerfully, he pulled my ass against him.

  “You’re worried about my age. I like your age. I like that you aren’t a virgin, but that you have so much more to learn. I guarantee I’m not like that kid from Kinsley Preparatory: I’m a real man who knows what he’s doing. I’ll do things to you that you’ve never imagined.”

  “H-How do you know what I’ve imagined? And how do you know about Wesley?” He was from Kinsley and the only boy I’d ever been with. Our first time was a blundering of sorts. Neither one of us knew what to do or how to go about it. The next time didn’t hurt as much, but being with him had never been nearly as erotic as standing here against a window with my hands being the only thing I could see, besides the gorgeous blue ocean view.

  “I’ve told you: I’ve been watching you and doing my research.” With one arm above my exposed breasts and the other around my waist, he pulled my ass tighter against his erection and swayed his hips. “And like I said, I’m glad you’re not a virgin. I don’t want that responsibility. That said, other than the fact that you had one guy’s dick inside of you, I promise, when it comes to what I have planned, you’ve never experienced anything like it.”

  His words and hips created a delicious rhythm rocking me against his solid chest, as well as other parts of him. Without thinking, my body moved in sync.

  “Please…” I needed this to stop. The painful tension building within me caused my insides to ache. “…please, Stewart.”

  His arm tightened around my waist. “Yes, Victoria, please what? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to fondle that deliciously lickable breast again and pinch that hard nipple or do you want more than that?”

  “I-I want…”

  “If I lift this dress, I could expose your slick thighs. You’re wet for me, aren’t you?”

  “S-Stewart, you’re right, I’m not a virgin, but I’ve never felt this way. I don’t know what to do.”

  His hand lowered to the hem of my dress
and began to lift. “Let me see how wet you are.”

  Was it a question? Was he asking me or telling me what he was going to do? I couldn’t think straight. Brushing my inner thigh, I knew he’d find what he wanted. I was wetter than I’d ever been.

  His voice was low as his fingers slid over my thighs, so near, yet not touching where my body wanted him. Did I want that?

  “Victoria, you’re a naughty girl. If I put my fingers inside of you, would you fuck them? If I told you to?”

  “W-What are you doing to me? I-I don’t want this.” Throwing caution to the wind, I gathered what little strength I had, pushed off from the window, and spun into his chest. “Stop. You’re a pervert, and I told you I’m not a whore.”

  His blue eyes were the color of the water, deep and dark. With a smirk, he lifted his finger to his lips and sucked. After making a show of it, he grinned. “Once you’re my wife I can do that whenever I want. Allowing your husband to finger fuck you isn’t being a whore. Like I said, you will be my whore.”

  Righting my dress, I moved around him. The sound of his chuckle filled the otherwise quiet office as I made my way to a chair and sat. “I’m sorry Randall has made poor decisions, but that isn’t my concern. I have a job lined up. I’ll support Val. We’ll make it.”

  Stewart walked to his desk, his erection visibly tenting his jeans as he sat. Lifting two manila folders, he slid both of them toward me. “Victoria Conway, this offer has not been made lightly. I’ve given it a lot of thought and consideration. I’ve even had my legal team work out the necessary legalities. In this folder…” He touched the one on my left. “…is an agreement to do as we’ve discussed. It includes a do-not-disclose statement regarding what happened today as well as an agreement for us to wed, next Thursday. Along with that is a contract that I’ll sign. One that will guarantee the payment of necessary funds to repay your stepfather’s current debt as well as give you access to any monies necessary to fund your sister’s education at the academy and any undergraduate and post-graduate study she chooses. I believe she’s interested in medicine.” His eyebrows rose. “Medical school can be expensive.”