Page 31 of One Last Rainy Day
“...Father has security cameras set up everywhere, and he’s already threatened me about having company. This isn’t going to bode well.”
Which is precisely the reason for our ambush today.
Surprisingly, Sean lets her in on the camera surveillance solution,me, but not the when.
Sean really does trust her, and due to my decision to let her through—if only to hasten serving up Roman’s justice—means she’ll be privy to a lot more in the coming days and weeks. But whatever Sean’s thinking about regarding Cecelia long term is delusional. On that, I decide to let my brother be the one to break it to him when the time comes.
At the moment, Roman is boarding a plane for a day trip to one of his Detroit plants, which gives us just enough time to get in and out. When the subject is redirected to me, Sean pleads my case. “Look, he isn’t easy. But he’s here because he wants to be.”
Part truth, part lie.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? The guy is a motherfucker.”
Tipping my beer to again hide my grin, Tyler intervenes. “Good. Mom and Dad made up. Time to celebrate.” He sprays them with a beer as Cecelia’s laughter rings out, and Sean and I lock eyes as I ready myself to play my part.
My turn to make nice.
He scoops Cecelia up honeymoon style and delivers her to me by jumping them both into the pool. Breaching water, she sputters out her scold as they begin to coo at one another until Sean’s cellphone rings. He immediately exits the pool darting a glance my way before he answers with a “Hey, Dad.”
Right now,Dadis being played by Jeremy. He’s giving us the all clear, stating Roman’s plane is climbing toward an altitude he can’t be reached—and we can’t be monitored.
Feeling the weight of her familiar stare, Cecelia inches toward me, where I lean against the shallow-end wall. Her eyes roaming over me in an unmistakable way.
“I suppose you want an apology,” I say, close enough to drink in every detail. She’s pure temptation—long, drenched, slightly fire-kissed hair, perfect fucking features, bee-stung lips, palm-sized tits, toned torso, ample curves—a literal wet fucking dream. The triangle of material between her thighs hovers just above the water as she inches toward me.
Despite the grudge I have against her maker, she really is the most beautiful fucking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Along with a mix of things that would allure any man—innocent and forbidden.
A mouthwatering combination of fire and water.
But despite my body’s constant reaction to her—not for me.
“I won’t hold my breath,” she scoffs.
Downing my beer, I hold up a finger. “Okay, I think I’m ready...” I exaggerate my exhale. “I’m sorry I told Sean I caught you staring at my dick.”
She surprises me by tossing her head back and laughing, and I can’t help my return smile. Her eyes widen at the sight of it before she speaks up.
“You are a rare bastard.”
“I prefer motherfucker.” Her eyes bulge.Yeah, I heard you, mouse.
“At least then, it would be somewhat factual. Isn’t that right, Tyler?”
We both glance over to Tyler, who shoots me the finger, adding in a “Fuck You.”
Cecelia and I share a grin as her navy eyes dance along my profile, dipping further with every word she speaks. “You had your door open. I was surprised, to say the least.”
“And the other five minutes?” I quip.
“Do women actually sleep with you?”
“No, never. They’re too busy screaming my name. Except the last girl, she was a corpse.”
No offense, Ginger.
“You are unreal. Psychiatrist’s dream indeed.”
Her eyes glaze as a little silence lingers—as does her appraisal of me. “What are you thinking about?”
