Deceit (Gallows Hill Book 1), page 9
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” I say with a nod.
He holds out his hand to me and I hesitate for a moment, until I feel a sharp pinch come from my side. I know it’s my father and I know what he’s saying.
Let him take your hand, do not embarrass me.
I slip my palm into his as he lifts it up to his mouth, before he presses his lips against my knuckles and smiles as he speaks.
“Please, call me Christopher. After all, we are going to be family.”
I give him a soft smile and wiggle my fingers in an attempt to pull my hand away, but he doesn’t seem ready to allow that to happen.
“You’re even more beautiful than your pictures,” Christopher muses, almost to himself.
My smile doesn’t slip as I nod my head once more.
“Thank you. Your home is lovely. When was it crafted? Mid-eighteenth century?” I ask.
“Early,” he says, something like interest flickering in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. “How could you tell?”
“The architecture reminds me a lot of this home back in London. It was built in 1705, but I assumed being across the pond it would take a little longer for similar influences to reach here.”
Christopher’s smile curls, practically taking over his entire face as he speaks.
“Salem has been blessed with the finest craftsmen for some time. Have you made it down to the town museum? I’m sure you’d find it absolutely fascinating.”
History was never my passion, by a long shot, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a beautifully built home. In my opinion, I found the way of life in England from the seventeenth to twentieth century much more interesting than America’s, but maybe I’m biased because that’s all I was taught for practically my whole life.
“I have not. I’ll have to do that.”
“Asher will take you soon.”
Christopher smiles with a cutting look to his son.
Asher nods dutifully, a lot like the way I do with my father as he speaks.
“I’d be honored.”
“Wonderful,” Christopher says, before finally releasing my hand.
He begins talking with Asher about his grades and I tune out slightly, allowing myself to people-watch. I stop on Maggie, or at least I think it’s Maggie. No way is my all black, all the time edgy, friend wearing a Pepto Bismol pink dress. Her red hair clashing with the dress as hard as her fake grin is cracking.
A good looking man and woman are on either side of her, introducing her to a handsome guy around our age. I think I have economics with him, actually. His name is Seth or Sean, something like that. He leans in, pressing his lips to her cheek in a greeting kiss and I don’t miss the way she practically cringes. Oh no, are her parents trying to set her up? With a man, no less? Do they not know? No, they have to know. She wears it loud and proud.
My brows furrow and I take a half of a step to move towards her when her eyes catch mine, subtly shaking her head as if to call me off. I frown but nod, turning back to see my father and Christopher deep in discussion. Their eyes swing to Asher, seemingly sizing him up, before Ronan steps into the group.
“Excuse me, brother. I wonder if I might show Skyla the gardens.”
Christopher grins, like it’s the best idea he’s ever heard before he nods.
“Excellent idea, Ronan. Thank you.”
I watch as Christopher turns away from me brushing me off dismissively before he begins speaking to Asher in hushed tones, my father sending me a withering glance before he’s listening and speaking as well.
I take a few steps with Ronan, before my feet slow as curiosity gets the best of me. I want to stay and listen to what they’re saying. Based on Asher’s face, it doesn’t look good. A warm strong hand is pushing me forward, though.
“Keep moving, face forward,” Ronan says as he continues walking, practically dragging me along with him.
I do as he says, turning around as we weave through the large home. A few people greet Ronan, but he’s quick to dismiss them until we make it out to a balcony at the back of the house. My breath is nearly stolen when I see a maze of rose bushes expanding over a large chunk of the backyard. You can see just the tip of what looks to be a large fountain, before everything else is hidden in the privacy of the bushes.
Ronan’s hold on me continues as he ushers us down the stairs and to the front of the maze. We enter wordlessly and he doesn’t speak until we take our first turn.
“Are you okay?”
My brows dip at that, my heels slightly sinking into the grass as we walk.
“Yes, why?”
“I told you not to be interesting.”
I look up at him as I shake my head.
“I wasn’t.”
“You were, I could see it in his eyes. He’s intrigued by you already and that’s not a good thing.”
Shrugging, I take the left turn in front of us first, moving us deeper and deeper into the garden.
“Well, I don’t know what to say. He seems…nice enough.”
Ronan stops in his tracks, his face stoic and unmoving as he speaks.
“No, he doesn’t.”
I smile sadly, shaking my head as I continue walking.
“No, he doesn’t.”
His steps continue after me, and we don’t speak again until we stop in front of the fountain. I move over to the ledge, sitting down on it before turning to watch the water flow. Ronan takes a seat beside me, his eyes on me the entire time.
My gaze moves from the fountain to him, watching as his forearms rest against his thighs.
“So, what’s this party for anyways?” I ask.
His eyebrows furrow at that as he tilts his head to the side.
“No one told you?”
I shake my head.
“This is your engagement party.”
My stomach flips and irritation rolls through me. Wow, should I honestly expect anything different? This entire arrangement has been absurd from the start. I wouldn’t be surprised if I went out to breakfast one morning and stumbled into my wedding. Apparently, I’m not important enough to be filled in on little details like this.
We’re silent for several seconds before Ronan speaks.
“He doesn’t deserve you. He never should have left you like that tonight and shouldn’t be treating you like he has.”
I shrug, breaking eye contact with those hypnotic blue eyes as I stare out into the laurel greens and pops of color woven between them.
“When my father told me I was betrothed, I didn’t anticipate meeting the love of my life or anything, but I’ll be honest, I expected to be treated with the minimum amount of respect,” I laugh bitterly, shaking my head as I do.
His palm slips underneath my chin, tilting my head to face him as he cups my face tenderly.
“You deserve so much more than that. You deserve…everything.”
I smile sadly, sinking into his touch.
“Even if I did, I’m not sure that’s in the cards for me.”
Ronan’s eyes flick back and forth between my own before they move down to my lips. I feel myself moving closer to him, inch by inch, and he doesn’t stop me. In fact, when I’m just a hair’s breadth away from him, his grip on me tightens before he closes the remaining distance between us.
All at once it’s like fireworks and ecstasy tearing through my body, as his pillowy soft lips press against my own. His hand adjusts, forcing my head to tilt back and he takes full advantage of the new position, deepening the kiss as his tongue swipes against mine. I can’t help but moan against him, my hands blindly reaching for him.
With each stroke of his tongue my pussy begins pulsing. Before I know it, I’m being lifted up and over him, settling down on top of his lap. My thighs easily straddle him and the slit in my dress allows me a lot more freedom than other dresses would.
I whimper when I feel his hard cock rub against my quickly dampening panties. Ronan’s hands grip my hips, guiding my movements as he begins grinding me against him. Soon I don’t need his guidance though, as I continue to lose myself in our kiss and use his body exactly how I want, how I need.
He breaks away from our kiss, cursing roughly as he speaks into my neck.
“Christ baby, you’re fucking soaking my pants.”
“I’m sorry,” I pant as I continue my movements, angling myself so my clit is perfectly stimulated against his cock.
“Don’t be,” he practically growls. “It’s so hot. Ride me, baby. Make that pretty little pussy come all over my suit.”
I feel myself spasm as I increase my motions, another moan slipping out of my mouth. Ronan cups the back of my head with one hand, crushing our lips together once more. His other hand grabs my ass, forcing me to grind against him harder and faster. Just when I think it can’t possibly feel better than this, I see white. Literally, my vision flashes and for a moment I’m completely blind.
Pleasure rips through my body like a hurricane, and the only saving grace in containing my screams is Ronan’s tongue that is currently tangled around mine. That euphoric feeling pricks against every inch of my skin, all the way from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I can hardly even catch my breath as our movements stop and he slowly pulls away from me, lust clouding his normally bright blue eyes.
Confliction passes across his face, and he opens his mouth to say something before we hear the sound of the door open from the balcony. We both still before I quickly scramble off his lap. Ronan goes to stand, quickly wiping at his mouth to remove my smeared lipstick. I lean over to look into the reflection of the fountain, using it as a makeshift mirror, as I clean up my makeup and reapply some more lipstick.
When I’m finished Ronan is watching me with a look that is significantly colder than before. I go to open my mouth and ask him what that was about? What does it mean? What happens next? But I don’t get the chance.
“You should get back to the party. You’ve been gone for too long. After all, you’re the guest of honor.”
Hurt stabs through me that he’s very clearly trying to brush me off, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I raise my head a little higher. Stridding back in the direction that we came from, not giving a damn if I get lost in the process.
Surprisingly, I make it out of the gardens easily enough as I slip inside the party. The noise is overwhelming with sounds of music, laughter and the clinking of glasses in cheers. My eyes land on Bridgette and a few of her friends. I’ve already had a less than stellar day and I’d rather not have an encounter with them.
There is a door to my left and I quickly dip inside before they can see me. I glance over my shoulder relieved when no one follows after me, until I hear a breathy moan. My head whips around, meeting the eyes of Liam. He’s leaning up against a large kitchen island with his hands braced against the counter, pants around his ankles and not one, but two mouths latched around his cock.
For a moment, I’m frozen in place. A woman in the caterer’s outfit is on her knees beside a man in a matching outfit. I can’t tell who is enjoying themselves more. All three of them look to be having the best time. My eyes come up to Liam only to find him watching me with a knowing smirk, before his eyes roll into the back of his head. He drops a hand to the man’s head, pushing on it encouragingly before doing the same to the woman.
For some reason, instead of being embarrassed and ashamed of walking in on such a private moment, I’m incredibly turned on. A part of me wonders how long I could stay here and just watch them. According to Liam’s smile, I’d probably guess the entire time.
Logic wins though, when I consider what my father would do if he found me in here. If anyone found me here, they’d assume I was part of this. The rumor mill would run rampant. So, I quickly turn on my heel, not giving them a backwards glance, as I slip back out to the party.
Chapter Fourteen
Asher
“Thursday– the usual time. Ensure Liam is with you,” my father says, his eyes flicking carefully from side-to-side.
Always listening, always watching.
I dip my head in respect, knowing better than to speak unless asked a direct question. In the next moment, a figure moving through the crowd catches my eye. Skyla is walking towards us with a myriad of emotions on her face. I look back to see both our fathers watching her carefully, before sharing a look as they glance back to me.
“You’re dismissed,” my father says.
Nodding my head, I quickly step away from them and turn to start walking towards Skyla. I’m not sure why he’s willing to cut us loose in the middle of our own engagement party, but I don’t really care. I feel a hand grab my arm and I look down to see Bridgette holding it, batting her eyes up at me like that shit is actually going to work on me. I sneer at her, shaking her off my arm as I close the distance between me and my fiancée.
I stop her in her tracks, grabbing her elbow and weaving her through people as we make our way to the front door. I’m practically speed-walking and I can tell she’s having a hard time keeping up.
“Asher. What the hell?” she whispers in a hushed tone.
“We’re leaving.”
“Leaving?” she questions.
I nod as we step around Liam’s parents. I give them a winning smile and they smile back approvingly before casting disappointing looks at their son. He doesn’t shrink under their gaze. Instead he tunes them out, focusing his eyes on the princess in my grip. A flirtatious smile spreads across his face before he gives her a sly wink. I grit my jaw in irritation, he’s such a fucking flirt.
We move further through the party, almost making it all the way to the door when someone steps in front of us.
“Giselle?” he practically gasps, his mouth open and eyes wide as he stares directly at Skyla.
I raise a confused eyebrow in his direction. Looks like someone’s getting off well with the open bar.
“Um, no. I’m Skyla,” she smiles politely, a guarded look in her deep green eyes.
The man who I now can place as Clark Lewis nods, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them back up and smiling at her.
“My apologies. Your mother, you look so incredibly like her. It’s amazing, actually.”
Skyla’s face softens, and I see her eyes begin to slightly water as she takes a small step towards him, lowering her voice as she asks.
“Really?”
He nods. “Undoubtedly. You’re practically her twin.”
“So, you knew her well? What was she like? Do you have any memories of her? I was so young when she pass—”
“Sorry Mr. Lewis, my fiancée and I are needing to get home. I hope to see you again soon,” I cut in, thoroughly bored with this little stroll down memory lane.
Skyla delivers me a hurt look before she masks it, giving him a polite smile. He smiles back at her in a sad way, before he steps to the side, allowing us to pass.
“Where are we going?” Skyla asks, while the Valet goes to fetch my car.
“Back to campus.”
“Why?”
“We were dismissed,” I say stiffly.
Her brows furrow. “Why?”
I roll my eyes, before facing her just as the car pulls up.
“Who knows, but I’m not going to snub a get out of jail free card, and neither should you. Know one thing about this place, Princess. If they give you an out at any point, you take it with both hands and run like hell.”
Before she can respond I’m practically dragging her to the car, opening the door and pushing her in before slamming the door shut. Look at me, being all gentlemanly and shit.
When I make my way around to the driver’s seat I put the car in gear and take off almost immediately. We drive in silence for a few moments, and I relish in the peace. Until she decides it’s a good idea to open her mouth again.
“That man back there. You knew him?” she asks.
I nod as I hit my blinker and take a turn.
“I know everyone.”
“How?” she counters.
I frown at that. “What do you mean how?”
“How do you know everyone? How does everyone know you? I looked it up, there are close to forty-four-thousand people in Salem, Massachusetts. How on earth do you know everyone? How do they know you? Know me?”
I contemplate on how much to tell her. According to the Elders, I shouldn’t tell her anything. Women were never meant to be involved, and if they ever became so, they didn’t live long after. That thought isn’t nearly as terrifying as it should be, but rather enticing. No future bride, means no future wedding.
Fuck it.
“I don’t know everyone, just those that matter. Those that are connected to The Brethren.”
“The Brethren?” she questions slowly. “What the hell is that?”
“A group of families, with common history and goals for the future.”
She’s silent for a moment, before she practically guffaws at me.
“A cult?”
Amusement plays on my lips. If only the Elders could hear her say such an egregious thing. She’d have her tongue cut out before she could even take her next breath. Now there is an idea, if I can’t get out of a wife, maybe one that can’t talk wouldn’t be so bad. Though, I’m sure I’d miss that tongue for other purposes eventually.
I don’t respond, curious if I let that little idea fester and bloom what will come of it. Hopefully, something that benefits me.
“Every family at Gallows Hill University is connected to The Brethren. Why do you think the college is invitation only?” I ask, taking my eyes from the road to give her a ‘duh’ look.
Understanding comes to her, and she nods.
“And my father? He’s a part of this…society?” she hedges.
There we go, that’s a little more accurate.
I nod my head as I turn to pull into the parking lot outside of her dorm.
“Does everyone on campus know, except me?”
I park the car and nod.
“All of us grew up together. The same elementary, middle and high schools. Same sports teams or other activities.”
