***BLAKELY’S POV***
I am an idiot for thinking this huge man here would want to take care of me without wanting a taste of the cookie between my legs.
I mean, he is handsome, and when he stares at me like the way he is doing now, I can’t stop but feel my legs squeeze with pressure from how much I am starting to like him.
“If you will want baggaes like Gemma and I in your house, then, yes, I accept,” I say looking at anywhere but at his face.
When he scowls, his hands pinch my cheeks, bringing it to his face.
“Don’t call yourself baggage ever again,” he spits out.
I see the anger flashes in his eyes and I catch my breathe, nodding gently.
His brown eyes softens as be captures my chin once more, making sure I am staring at him.
“I am sorry, I am a gruff, but I promise to be gentle when it comes to you and Gemma,” he states.
“Why do you want to do that? I am the enemy remember?” I say shifting in his embrace.
He snickers and tightens his hold around me. “Sugar, I have nothing better that occupies my time right now other than serving my boss. What if it is time I serve you and baby Gemma?” he questions.
Tears fill my eyes as I blink them back.
“You don’t just do that to strangers,” I mutter.
“We aren’t strangers, Blakely,” he says frowning.
“I don’t know your name,” I state.
“Reaper, you can call me that,” he says.
Snorting, I catch a few stray tears from my eyes as I look at this man with dazed eyes.
“What is so funny, Blake?” he asks shortening my name.
I like the way it sound on his lips though.
“That’s some funny name there. Now, give me an actual name, old man,” I say still laughing.
Reaper rolls over the bed and pinning me below him, he pushes my hands above my head and holds them with one hand. With the other hand, he starts tickling me.
Laughing, I squeal in his grasp but he doesn’t let go.
“Old man, huh? How fucking old do you think I am?” he demands his eyes happy globes as they stare at me.
“forty?” I ask wrinkling my nostrils at him.
“Thirty-five, Sugar,” he replies his face so close to mine that all the air from my lungs gets usurped.
“Old enough to be my father,” I call out.
“Old enough to be your Daddy,” he says his voice taking another turn.
When I open my mouth to speak, nothing comes out, just me gawking as I stare at him.
Time seems to freeze, to let us leave our moment because the moment Reaper’s lips are a ghost movement above mine, I look at him with consenting eyes.
“Can I kiss you, Sugar?” he demands.
Fuck! I’ve never been kissed before, and hell yes, I will let this man be my first kiss.
“You must know that I’ve never kissed anyone before,” I hear myself say.
Reaper closes his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply, and when his eyes flutter open, they are the brightest hue of blue I have ever seen, the gray hiding somewhere behind his eyes.
“You… are a… Virgin?” he asks his voice unsure.
Feeling awkward, I nod.
“Shit! Fucking shit!” Reaper cries out sliding out of me and I instantly feel the absence of his warmth above me.
“I am sorry, Reaper. Calm down, I didn’t think being a virgin will freak you out. I should leave,” I say motioning towards the door.
“Fuck no, Sugar. You aren’t going anywhere. I am sorry about how I reacted, just that you are white, do you know what that means? That you are pure,” he stutters making words out of nothing.
Standing, I stare at him. I am not a tall girl, but I am not short either. I am 5’4 but with Reaper at least 6’1, he looks like a giant before me.
The men in this house are all tall
“And what is that supposed to mean?” I ask sounding offended now.
“It means I am a bastard that shouldn’t be anywhere close to you,” he explains.
My chest tightens at the sound of that. I fight back the tears threatening to fall but they still make an escape.
“Hey, Sugar, don’t cry,” Reaper says taking a step closer to me.
“No. Don’t. I get it. I am a fool for getting attached so fast. I should know you would reject me. No one wants a baggage in their life,” I say sniffing back the tears.
My eyes are hazed out with tears but Reaper manages to clear out his throat before he makes it to me.
Holding me in his arms, he forces me to place my face in the crook of his neck as he hushes me to calm down.
“You are not baggage, Sugar,” he states repeatedly.
“I am. You don’t want me,” I snap out.
Reaper takes a step back to look at me, his face filled with shock.
“You wanted that kiss didn’t you?” he asks cautiously.
“Yes. But…” I trail when I feel hard lips on my soft ones.
I am still talking when I am being silenced with the power of that kiss. I am stunned and then, I close my eyes, waiting for the magic to happen.
Gently, Reaper starts moving his lips, leading the kiss.
Wrapping my arms around Reaper’s strong pair of neck, I fall forward, satisfied when he catches me.
We kiss. And just like the movies that I have watched, the books I read, this is nothing like they capture in those moments because I am here, I am living the moment.
Reaper breaks the kiss and we pant breathlessly, trying to catch our air.
“You taste so good. I want you to stay, please,” he says.
“Do you think Gemma will approve of this?” I demand doubting.
There is a lot that Reaper and I haven’t spoken about and it’s natural that I am their captive now, to do whatever they want as they place.
I feel my thighs getting wet just by the thoughts I have if the moment.
“Hum, let’s go find out, Sugar,” he prompts, holding my arms.
“Wait, tell me your real name, I don’t like calling you Reaper,” I say frankly.
Reaper stares at me contemplating if he should open up or not, finally he does.
“Trevor Richard,” he states.
My jaws dropped so badly I hear the man snicker.
“Trevor? Wow! You look like a Trevor. I like that name. I suppose you already know everything about me,” I say holding out my hand to him for a handshake.
Trevor looks at me hand and then as if changing his mind against that, he wraps me in his embrace, hugging me so tight.
“Nice to meet you, Blake. Now, let’s go meet little Gemma. You can introduce us then. I bet she will be hungry,” he says coolly, dragging me by the hand out of the room.
This mansion is big. It is like a forte, some solid building that you can’t break from the outside and from the inside, it is massive.
I am still bruised up from all the beatings I took, so I stop when Trevor holds me around the waist.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
“I shouldn’t go out there looking like this,” I say pointing at my blooding shirt and trousers.
“I don’t have any female clothes here, but I think my t-shirt over you will sexy,” he mutters and I say the imagery he is painting out for himself.
***
Half an hour later, I am walking out of Trevor room, a t-shirt and shorts that makes me look comfortable and have a home-like look.
Trevor has even dressed some of the cut on my face.
“Not bad swelling. The cuts are superficial. It should be gone in a day or two,” he says with a sweet smile.
“Thank you, Trevor,” I reply.
Trevor has arranged for only my clothes and personal belongings should be brought to me. The rest will be given out or left for the next occupants to use.
Heaving, I feel like my legs are shaking as they carry me forward, leading me to the main part if the house.
I hear noises coming from the other side of the room and stay put.
Trevor stops, but his big hands doesn’t leave mine.
“Come on, Sugar, let’s go say hi to the mistresses of the house,” he says with a big smile on his face.
A few hours ago, I would have begged for this man not to kill me, but now, he is all softie and mushy before me. It makes my heart leap just by thinking about it.
“Oh, I can do that,” I exclaim, allowing him to lead the way.
I find myself in the biggest kitchen I have ever entered in my entire life. And my eyes mirror my disbelief because I meet three pair of startled eyes glaring at me.
“Reaper? You scared the hell out of me. Can’t you knock?” a brown haired lady says before Reaper chuckles mischievously.
“I am sorry about that, ladies. I just want to introduce you to Blakely. She is mine,” he says his voice thick with sentiments.
Gasps and wows circulate round the room and then the ladies approach me, hugging me for a while before stepping back from my personal space politely.
“Hi, Girl. I am Casey,” the shortest amongst them say sweetly.
She is dressed in quality material and one of brand too.
I nod politely, not sure if I open my mouth my words will be polite.
“Cecily. And this is Mia,” the other two introduces themselves.
“Sissy,” I hear Gemma’s voice before I see her round the table and rush towards me.
Kneeling, I hug her, crying hard in her hair.
“Are you fine, baby?” I ask sniffing in her hair, not able to hold back my happiness at seeing her.
“Yes, I am. I was having your favorite cookies and milk,” she says sounding so innocently sweet.
“Is that so?” I manage to ask politely.
“Yes,” she cries out excitedly.
“Well, baby, why don’t you go finish your snack? I will come steal a cookie from you soon,” I say encouraging her to go.
When she takes a step back, I look at my kid sister, at the live shinning in her eyes and when she looks at me, I see what I didn’t know was concern flash in her eyes.
“What happened to you, Sissy? Are you hurt? Did you get into trouble?” she asks her small hands reaching to touch my face.
“I fell,” I lie so effortlessly through my teeth.
I know as an adult I shouldn’t be lying to my sister, but she is still too young to understand such things.
“You need to be careful okay? I don’t want you getting hurt so bad that you can’t take care of me and I have to go back there. I hate it there,” she says her voice sounding haunted at the end.
I know where she is talking about. And as long as I live, I will never make her go to any relative’s house even for an hour. They are all monsters. Especially since Dad died.
Shaking my head in resolution, I glare at her, patting my head.
“Go and finish your snack, Gemma. Enough sad talks now,” I encourage tickling her as she giggles, rushing away to her food.
I see another girl of about her age eating close to her.
Smiling I just stand there not knowing what to do or say.
I am a traitor at this house and if anyone would have said my life would drastically change from such a stupid action, my answer to that would have been for the person to go fuck themselves.
Now, this is happening and it is much real.
“We know everything, Blakely, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” I hear Casey say behind me and as if the flood gates of heaven were open, I burst out crying in the middle of this beautiful kitchen with strangers I don’t even know.