Page 14 of The Retreat

“Yes, sir.” He bows a little and leaves the room.

The second he’s out the door, Owen drops my hand and crowds into my space with fury etched into every line of his face. “Do you really think mind games are going to work? You clearly haven’t been paying attention.”

“I would gladly suck your dick for sticking up for me like that.”

Confusion crosses his face at the unexpected words, but there is no lie in them. It’s adorable how taken aback he is.

“I’ll drop to my knees right here, right now, give the delivery crew a show.” I slide my hands up his strong chest and enjoy the jump of his muscles under my touch. “Gag on it, saliva dripping down my shirt while your cum fills my throat.”

I’m salivating at the very idea of tasting him.

Owen grips my upper arms and shoves me away from him. “Sorry to disappoint, husband,” he sneers the word. “But I’m not interested.”

He strides from the room and disappears as the elevator dings again. Quickly, a handful of boxes are deposited where I instructed, and they leave. It’s mostly clothes.

And sex toys.

With nothing better to do, I unpack boxes and put my things in Owen’s closet. My gaudy t-shirts look amazing next to his designer suits. Of course, I also have designer clothes as well, but there’s something about the contrast between him and me that makes it different.

It’s clear we went in different directions when learning to deal with our parents. Everyone in our circle is toxic, misogynist, and in favor of the patriarchy. Owen toes the line, at least in public, to keep the family name clean. I do not. I could not care any less how my father looks to the public eye. The only thing I care about is keeping my sister safe. Unfortunately, my father is well aware of that.

I smile to myself as I hang them all up. My t-shirt collection is one of those things that brings me joy. They’re ridiculous, over the top, and I adore them.

Grabbing a change of clothes, short shorts and crop top with an adorable frog and the words: Ask me about my tongue.

I quickly shower, making sure to jack off loud enough for Owen to hear me, then climb into his bed.

It smells like Owen, and this bed is so fucking comfortable. I close my eyes for just a second and I’m out.

SEVEN

Colin

Because the Godfreys are pretentious, and my father is a suck up, we’re forced to have dinner at the Godfrey house. I can’t imagine how excited he is to finally be in-laws with the Godfreys.

When I step out of the shower, I find Owen, once again, under the fucking chaise lounge. I texted Oliver about it, but he left me on read.

With my hair plopped in a microfiber towel on my head and only a hot pink jock on, I stand with my hands on my hips in front of the damn thing.

“Owen, I swear to god, if you don’t get dressed…” I blank for a second. “I’ll get a damn spray bottle.”

Blue eyes peek out from under the lounge. At least he isn’t hissing. “Why on earth are you wearing that? Are you going to practice?”

I narrow my eyes, not sure if he’s being serious. “Have you never seen a guy wear a jock before?” I try to recall if they are in straight porn, and quickly remember I’ve never watched straight porn. That would be silly.

“Aren’t they to hold cups? Why would you just be wearing it? Is it like a woman wearing a thong?”

I scoff. “No. Dudes can also wear thongs. This is a jock.” I turn around, giving him a nice view of my ass.

“It all makes sense now,” Owen mutters, army crawling to his closet.

“What makes sense?”

“Why Isaac uses the peach emoji when he means ass.” Owen rolls to his back, laying in the middle of his massive closet. Progress—I guess. “Your ass looks just like a juicy peach.”

“Thank you—I think?” I follow him into the closet. “You have to actually get dressed now.”

“Oliver picks out my clothes. I don’t have enough will to live to get dressed.” He does not have to tell me twice.

---