Chapter 17
“Do you think it’s Bass’s kid?” Trista wondered out loud while we sat on the couch, eating breakfast.
I shrugged, not wanting to say anything. We were still reeling from his birthday party last night. Clearly, Nikki had pissed us all off.
Amber grabbed the orange juice carton, pouring as she let us in on her theory. “This is dumb and so random, but maybe Emma wasn’t meant to be with him? Didn’t you guys notice that there’s just too much crap around those two? Maybe she’s meant for Carter. Soccer-stud had definitely turned a one-eighty for our girl.”
“Bass will make you his public enemy number one if you keep yapping like that, Amber!” Trista glared at her, protective of Bass.
~L~
I came out of my bedroom, fresh from a shower and about to hunt down some lunch when I stopped and gawked at the catastrophic sea of lemons everywhere in our home, along with vase after vase of peonies. “What the f*ck is all this? Did you guys open up a flower shop without the f*cking shop or what?” I yelled, not understanding all this crap around me.
Trista came out of the kitchen, lips smudged with chocolate icing, grinning. “Apparently, it’s Emma’s and Bass’s one f*ck-year anniversary.”
“Huh?”
“The day he slid his kinker-tool and dug some gold in her goldmine.” Trista wiggled her eyebrows, amused.
Okay, this was extremely sweet of Bass. “But lemons?” I mean, it made the house smell like lemonade, but seriously, lemons? Peonies were divine, the lemons, I had to ponder some more.
“A painting and a gazillion loads of pastries all shaped like a f*cking lemon.” Trista smirked when she said the citrus fruit.
“Girlfriend needs to let us in on the lemon joke. Where is Emma anyway?” I looked around the kitchen for her, but instead, I found a massive painting that would fit on an entire wall. It was a picture of an island covered by lemon trees with Greek Amphitheatre ruins and a picnic basket as well as… what the hell… “A BLT sandwich?”
“No clue,” Trista mumbled before stuffing herself with more of those delicious looking lemon-shaped chocolate cakes. “She didn’t even explain any of this crap, dude. She basically ran into her room, squealing like she had won the lottery.”
The stunning Aegean Sea, the sun, the food and the beguiling beauty of the country itself, I had missed it. “Huh. Nice island, though. Will Bass invite us to stay?” The question was out before I stopped it, not really thinking.
“Bass is cool. Whenever you’re ready to step on Greek soil, let me know. I’d love to go back with Taylor again and visit Mykonos.” Maybe later on, but certainly not anytime soon. I suppose I would have to miss out on that vacation with them.
Blocking thoughts of Greece or anything Greek related, I joined her and tried the chocolate cake she’d been lavishing on. Oh dear, I thought, moaning as the decadent combination of cocoa and confectionary that was produced in absolute divinity brought an orgasm into my mouth.
“Apparently, BC ordered these from Paris. These have truffles and gold dust in them.” Trista grinned again, taking another bite. “Dude, will we be pooping gold, too?”
Man, I loved this cookie. “Be sure to check it out, buddy.”
Amber strode in as she pulled her hair back in a ponytail. “Bass?” she asked us, knowing the answer to it already. “No wonder I could hear some moaning from her room. Bet they’re having some phone or video sex. He’s only in New York for five days and those two are having some serious withdrawals.”
“You bet your sweet ass, I am.” Emma strolled in, flushed and satisfied. “I love this side of Bass. The man sure knows how to make me weak in the knees.”
Bass was awesome, but he had so much to make-up for. Knowing that Nikki’s wrath was nearing, I was glad that he was acting like the old Bass we all swooned over. With or without Nikki, it was obvious how much he loved our dollface.
Seeing how much Emma’s face radiated, I was comforted to know that she was fighting for the right man.
~L~
One time, when Dad was away on business, I saw my mom have sex with one of my father’s best friends, Brandon. It was late at night and I hadn’t seen my mom for a few days. I had waited until she came home, fighting sleep, so I could cuddle with her. When I heard the front door slam, I had known without a doubt that she was home.
My excitement immediately evaporated when I found her with her dress pushed up and Uncle Brandon on his knees on the sofa, pushing into her as she screamed to do it harder. I was about seven or eight and I hadn’t had a clue about what they were doing. At one point, I thought he was hurting her, but when Mom said that he was so good, I knew that he wasn’t. Whatever it was they were doing, Mom was busy. Deflated, I moved to leave, but Uncle Brandon saw me.
He didn’t look unperturbed, not at all. In fact, he kept on going, holding my gaze. My mom was thrashing then so I doubt she knew that Uncle Brandon wasn’t even looking at her. He didn’t waver until he started to move really fast, making me catch my breath as he made my mother scream so loud it echoed all over our twelve-bedroom home. I didn’t know what it was, but something told me that what Mom was doing was wrong. So, I kept my mouth shut, not mentioning anything to Carter or to my father.
The next day, right around four in the afternoon, Mom informed me that Uncle Brandon was taking me to see a circus along with his niece, Jane, who I met a few times during birthday parties. Excited, I was rummaging through my closet to choose the best dress I had. You see, outings were scarce because my parents were nonexistent and the only time I got to go out was when Aunt Alice and Uncle Gary would invite me.
Years back, it used to be Carter and me, but he grew out of it and started to hang out with boys only, so I was mostly alone with my nanny around. I was only allowed to go to school then straight home. From time to time, I was allowed to sleep over at my friend’s house, but apart from those, I was very lonely.
I was worried about Uncle Brandon getting mad at me after what happened last night, but when I saw Jane and how he acted like it didn’t happen, I was beyond relieved. I’d never been to a circus, so this was an exciting treat for me.
A couple hours later, we dropped off Jane first since her house was on the other side of the city. I was still thinking about all the acrobatic stunts when Uncle Brandon said something about what I had witnessed the night before.
“Sweetie, do you know what you saw last night?” he gently asked, eyes on the road.
What did I see last night? “I thought you were hurting Mom, but she told you to keep going.”
He sighed then, pulling over on the private road before he found a tree to park next to. “I’ll try to explain this to you, but you have to promise me, Lindsey, that you won’t tell your father.”
All the more curious now because I knew even then that when adults tell you not to say something or repeat anything, that meant it was top secret and shouldn’t be spoken about. “I promise, Uncle Brandon. Dad and I don’t talk much, anyway.”
“I’m sorry about that, sweetie. Your dad loves your mom very much, but your mom has things like a lot of women, needs. Sometimes, when you need something, you start looking for it, right?” he tried to explain it to me, trying to break it down.
“Yeah.” I nodded, frowning. “So, Mom needed something from you?”
He cleared his throat, thinking. “She did. I didn’t give it to her before, but your mother is a very determined woman. When a beautiful woman does everything in her power to get something, most of them succeed.”
I knew Mommy was very pretty. Dad told her every day. “So, what did Mommy want that you didn’t want to give to her before?”
He muttered something, before looking at me. “Tickles.”
She wanted tickles? That was the top secret? “I don’t understand.”
“Your mommy wanted special tickles that a man like me—like your dad—can give her,” he said, matter of factly.
I still didn’t understand. “Oh. Why is it so special? I’ve never heard of it before.”
“Because only adults can share special tickles. When you grow up, you’re going to be a very beautiful woman, just like your mom. You’ll understand one day how beauty can be used to gain a lot of things.”
“You really think I’ll grow up beautiful like Mommy?” I gleefully asked, knowing how much I loved Mommy’s long, beautiful hair and how she looked so pretty all the time.
“Of course, sweetie.” Uncle Brandon smiled at me then, meaning every word.
His confirmation made me happy. “So when I’m old enough, you’ll show me the special tickles, Uncle Brandon?”
He stilled, shocked at my question. “Err, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Uncle Brandon shook his head, not believing me. “You won’t like it.”
I didn’t believe him. “If Mom did, I’d like it, too.”
He looked at me then, smiling. “You won’t. How about I’ll just tickle you instead, see if you like that?” he asked, his hand on my thigh.
Curious, I nodded—agreeing to him.
He lifted my skirt, asking me to slide my underwear off and sit back. When his finger touched my pee hole, it really tickled. It didn’t hurt. It felt funny as he touched me, watching my reaction. “Do you like it, sweetie?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“When the time comes, Uncle Brandon will be waiting for you for that special tickle, okay?” He withdrew his hand before putting it in his mouth, tasting it. “You’re going to be even more beautiful than your mom, sweetie, and you taste way sweeter.”