A Very Dirty Wedding (13 page)

"You called me a bitch," she says, her eyes flashing.  "What the hell do you expect?"

"I did not call you a bitch."  I set the book back in its place on the desk.  "I said I doubted
Cinderella
was one."

"Implying that I am."

"Imply nothing," I say.  "Guilty conscience?"

"You're the most irritating person I've ever met."  Her ass is pressed up against the desk, and I'm leg to leg against her.  “I hate you.”  She has the most fuckable mouth I've ever seen.

"The feeling is completely mutual," I say, before I bring my mouth down on hers, crushing her lips against mine.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Katherine

Caulter and I are fucking.  I mean, not this very moment, obviously.  But we
are
fucking. 
In general.
  That’s our status.  Like, if I had to update it on social media, it wouldn’t be one of those “it’s complicated” situations.  It would just be “fucking.”  That should be a status option, now that I think about it.

It's like my brain can't process this information.  He's flipped some kind of switch in my body, turning me into the biggest stereotype ever: the uptight, virginal girl who loses the big V and becomes a sex-crazed maniac overnight.

I hate being a cliché.  I tell myself that I'm not.

For one thing, it's not an overnight transformation.  It's been a month, so I guess that's something.

A month of thinking constantly about him and his magic cock.

A month of thinking what it was like that night with him.

So now I'm one of
those
girls.  One of the girls that Caulter has screwed.  And now I'm basically the female version of Caulter, completely preoccupied with sex.  Except that I’m fixated on just getting into
his
pants.

I’m standing on the ladder in the library.  It sounds pretentious, a library in our lake house, I know.

But the library is my place.  My father works in his office and hates this space.  So it's mine.  It's white and airy, this small room in a corner of the house with one wall that’s floor to ceiling bookshelves and one of those ladders that roll along the length of the wall.  It even has a reading nook.

I run my fingers along the spine of the books, not looking for anything in particular.  I’m really just looking for a distraction from Caulter.  I don’t know where he is right now, but I know where he was this morning.  This morning he was sneaking into the shower with me, pressing my back up against the marble tile while he thrust inside me.  I can still feel the aching between my legs, the absence of him.

The last three weeks we've been sneaking around the house like we're having an affair, Caulter groping me as I pass him in the hallway or sneaking into my room through the door that opens onto our shared balcony.

I don’t know what Rose was thinking, putting our rooms next to each other.  I’d suspect her of planning something like this, except I know she doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body.  And you’d have to be malicious to want something to happen between me and Caulter.  I mean, I fuck him, but he is the single most irritating person I've ever met in my life.

My father and Ella are flying back and forth, spending most of their time in DC.  We have the house to ourselves except for Rose, who's here during the day.  I'm worried she's catching on, but Caulter insists she's not.  He turns on the charm when she's around, flirting with her and complimenting her cooking, wrapping her around his finger the way Caulter does with all women.

I have to reluctantly admit I can see the appeal.  Caulter can almost be charming when he wants to be.

“Hey, sugar-tits.”  He speaks softly, and I start, looking down to see him with that stupid smirk on his face.  Yeah, Caulter is real charming, for sure.

“You almost gave me a heart attack.”  I step down the ladder, but his hand is on my leg before I reach the bottom, sliding up underneath my skirt.

“I’ve decided something,” he says, cupping my ass with his palm.

My breath hitches in my throat, the way it always does when he touches me, and I grip the side of the ladder with one hand and try to slap his hand away with the other.  “Stop touching me.”

“Why?” he asks, ignoring my directive.  He pauses when he reaches the top of my ass and realizes there’s nothing there - no top part of a thong strap.  Behind me, he squats down and peers up my skirt.  “No panties.”

“You know why I'm telling you to stop,” I say.  “My father and Ella got in last night, and they're around here somewhere.  And the fact that I'm not wearing panties means nothing.”  The lie is pathetic and feeble.  I got dressed thinking about Caulter. 
No panties
was with Caulter in mind.

Caulter’s hand is on my back, preventing me from getting down off the ladder.  He slides his fingers between my legs, pressing against my entrance.  “You’re full of shit, Princess,” he says.  “Your father and Ella left to go out somewhere, so we're all alone.  And you forgot your panties just for me.”

“Not true,” I whisper, but I arch my ass back, pushing my pussy against his fingers as he slips them inside.  His thumb teases my asshole, sending shivers of arousal racing through my body.  “We shouldn’t do this...not here.” 
Or at all,
I tell myself.
  I have to stop doing this with him.

He responds by sliding his fingers further into my dripping pussy.  “I’ve decided that from now on, you wear dresses.  No panties.  Skirts only.”

I laugh, but it turns into a moan as he reaches around with his other hand to stroke my clit.  “Where the fuck do you think you get off, telling me what to do?”

“We've been through this before.  I own this.”

“You’re crazy.”  I can’t think clearly, distracted by what he’s doing to my body.  Until a nose in the hallway startles me.  “Shit.  Stop.”

A look of irritation crosses his face, and he withdraws his fingers.  I start to step down, thinking he’s giving me a reprieve from his delicious torment, but he grabs me by the arms before I can make it off the ladder, turning me around and pushing me back hard.  “I want you now.”

“Did you just hear that?”  I ask.  The step of the ladder digs into my back, and I would slip and fall down, except for the fact that he’s pinned me there.  I’m looking down at him, my head angled just above him.  I shouldn’t be preoccupied with how he looks at me, his expression clouded with lust.  I should be preoccupied with how my father and his mother might be somewhere in this house, how they could walk in at any moment.  I should be preoccupied with how my father’s face would look when he walked in on the two of us in the library.

“I don’t hear anything,” he says, sliding both hands over my ass.

“Anyone could come in,” I protest.  But the void left by his fingers is too distracting to allow me to focus on anything else.

I can’t be one of those girls who loses her mind once she gets a little bit of cock.  Except it's not exactly a little bit, I think as he unbuckles his jeans and pulls out his dick.  Nothing about
it
is small.  “There’s no lock on the door.”

“And you’re not wearing any panties.”  He pulls a condom from his pocket.  I raise my eyebrow at him, and he smirks.  “Don’t worry, I’ve just taken to carrying them with me now, being in the same house as you and all.  You never know the when opportunity will strike.”

“I’ll have to make sure to wear panties around you,” I whisper, before he brings his mouth down hard on me, his kiss practically bruising.  His tongue presses against mine, warring with mine, the movement an expression of our relationship.

When we come up for air, he looks at me sternly.  “I said, no panties,” he growls.  “Skirts and no panties.  It’s a new rule.”

“You don’t make rules for me,” I say.

“I’ll take them, then.”

“What, you're going to take my panties?” I ask, laughing.  “Good luck with that.”  I start to step down from where I’m standing on the ladder, but he halts me, putting his hand on my breast.  “Don’t,” he says, his thumb rubbing my erect nipple through the fabric, as he wraps the other hand around the base of his cock.  His hardness is against my inner thigh, and I’m so wet.

“What, you’re going to fuck me here?” I ask, my hands on his shoulders.  “I’ll fall.”

“Put your arms around my neck,” he whispers, and I lean in close to him, despite all of my concerns about my father walking in on us, and wrap my arms around him.  My dress is hitched up around my waist, and my breasts press against his face.  He buries his face between them, but he doesn’t rip the dress off and cover me with his mouth the way I want him too.  “Wrap your legs around me.”

I do, and somehow slide down the front of him as he guides his cock inside me and presses me against the ladder.  The sharpness of the railing cuts into my back and the top of my ass, but I’m so overcome by pleasure running through my body that I can’t focus on the pain.  I think the pain might even intensify it.  I cling to him, my arms and legs around him, but most of my weight rests against the ladder.  He drives into me hard, his thrusts short and insistent.

This is not slow and romantic; it’s fast and furious, primal and animalistic.

Every thrust of his takes me higher and higher.  We’re both quiet, too aware of the possibility of getting caught.  The thought of getting caught makes it more intense, even more forbidden.  Caulter brings out something in me that makes me want to lose control.  I’ve never been that way before with anyone.  I'm not that kind of girl, the one who throws caution to the wind, who doesn't care about consequences.  I'm not reckless.

I'm moaning his name as he brings me to the edge, his thrusts harder.  "Fuck, yes, Caulter."

"Are you going to come for me, Princess?" he asks.

"Yes," I groan, his question setting me off, and the sweet release overtakes me.  He thrusts into me again, once, twice, three times as he comes, and then...

The
fucking ladder
drops underneath us, making this metallic clanking sound as it slips out of the track and balances precariously on a shelf.

"Shit!" Caulter grabs my arms and pulls me up, somehow sliding out of me, his pants around his ass and a condom dangling off the end of his dick.

"Oh my God, we broke it,"  I look between him and the top of the ladder.  I can't contain my laughter.  This isn't me.  I'm not the girl who breaks ladders fucking a boy in the library.  What the hell has gotten into me?

And then I hear Rose's voice, calling out from down the hallway.  "Kate, are you okay?  I heard a crash."

"Shit."  Caulter has pulled up his pants before I can blink, and is looking casual and blasé by the time Rose opens the door.

"What happened?" she asks, looking back and forth between us.

"I -- the ladder came off the tracks," I say.

Caulter interrupts.  "She was trying to reach one of the books on the shelf up there, and it just...gave way.  Someone should definitely come out to look at that.  It seems like a safety hazard.  That's a problem with these older houses."  He looks so sincere I almost believe him.

Rose looks at me long and hard and I try not to blush.  "You were trying to reach one of those books up there on...medieval history?"

I swallow hard.  "I was browsing.  For research purposes."

"Research purposes," she repeats.  "It's a good thing Caulter was in here to help you when the ladder gave way."

I clear my throat.  "Yes.  It's definitely a good thing."

Rose turns to leave, but pauses when she reaches the door.  "I'm glad to see the two of you getting along so well."

I look at Caulter wide-eyed after she's gone.  "Do you think she knows?"

He shrugs.  "Maybe.  Who cares?"

"
I
care, you idiot," I say.  "Don't you?  What if she says something to my father?  What if someone finds out?  I can't believe we broke the ladder in here, for goodness' sake."

"
For goodness sake
?" Caulter laughs.  "Okay, grandma."

"I'm being serious, Caulter," I say.  I'm getting irritated with him for taking this whole thing so lightly.  "Behavior has consequences."

Caulter is standing close to me, and I immediately feel the thrill of his nearness.  I silently curse my damn body for being so attracted to him.  "So what if your father finds out?"

"It'll ruin his campaign."

"Why?"

"You know why, Caulter," I say.  "We're...going to be related."

"We're not related," he says.  "You're being ridiculous.  We're barely even step-siblings."

I bristle at the way he brushes off my concerns as if they're nothing.  "People won't care about what's true, Caulter," I insist.  I'm angry that he's dismissing me, the same way my father dismisses me.  "They thrive on scandal.  They'll latch onto it and run with it.  It'll ruin his campaign and his public image."

Caulter traces a finger down the front of my chest, and I smack it away, but not before it gets a physical reaction from me, goose bumps dotting my skin. 
Damn him.
  "Why do you even give a shit about it?" he asks.

"Because he's my father."

Caulter laughs, the sound bitter.  "Yeah, he seems like a
great
father."

"You don't know anything," I say, defending him despite my mixed feelings.  All I know is that I'm irritated with Caulter.

Caulter leans in close to me, slips his finger underneath one of the straps on my dress.  "I know that you're not the good little straight-laced girl your father wants, the poster child for his campaign.  I know that you're so fucking pent-up with all your studying and being responsible and being so damn perfect all the time that you've been dying for someone like me to come along who will let you out of your pretty little shell and make you feel something."