“You left the party.“
Sabrina flinched at the male voice floating to her from the open doorway of her husband's study. She hadn't heard anyone approach, her mind a million miles away from the New Year's Eve party humming in the third floor ball room overhead. She turned away from the tall window and the large snowflakes drifting in the darkness outside.
Owen Briggs lounged against the door frame, a half empty glass of red wine held loosely in his right hand. His heavy lidded eyes told her this was not his first. He beheld her with a lingering gaze before stepping into the dimly lit room.
“Owen.” Sabrina watched her brother-in-law set the wine glass down with a dull clink on her husband's marble desk top. Charles would have a king-sized fit if he found the glass there in the morning. His desk was his shrine, and anything placed on it that wasn't absolutely necessary was considered sacrilege.
“You left the party.” He said again. Until now, she had managed to tune out the music and laughter vibrating through the large house. She met her brother-in-law's heavy eyes and marveled how clear a blue they remained despite his intoxication. Marveled, actually, that he was even here tonight. She wondered how Celine had talked him into it. Though her sister visited often, Owen rarely left their ranch. He wasn't a man to be impressed by wealth, and even less so by Charles Braxton. In fact, Sabrina suspected Owen out and out disliked her husband. But it was an observation she found understandable. Charles could be quite the pompous asshole when he wanted to be; which seemed to be most of the time.
Sabrina shrugged absently, a sudden nervous flutter to her stomach. “I don't like crowds.” He had a rugged attractiveness she found very alluring in a man. An attractiveness Charles would never acquire. She recalled the disturbing flutter that had twisted her guts the first time Celine had introduced him to her, and the way their eyes had locked for the briefest of moments, a rush of emotions and desires she didn't understand passing between them, vanishing an instant later as if she'd imagined it all. She'd quickly convinced herself that she had, indeed, imagined it all. And since Owen rarely frequented their home, she'd been able to dismiss that initial reaction as insignificant. But he was here now, and the butterflies had returned as well. What this meant, she wasn't certain she wanted to know.
Up in the ball room, she heard the distant jumble of noise cease as the voices joined together in the countdown. Owen moved in closer and gripped her shoulders lightly, turning her to face him. His light touch sky-rocketed her heartbeat too suddenly and too easily in a way Charles' touch never had. A mixture of fear and excitement shuddered through her as she realized Owen was going to kiss her. He leaned in close until his lips brushed hers when he spoke. “Charles is a fool.” He whispered so low she barely heard it. “A man like him doesn't deserve a woman like you.”
The sudden impulse to pull away from his searing touch before their kiss could be completed stabbed at her like a hot iron. But instead of fleeing, she found herself leaning up into his kiss, trembling at the tender firmness of his lips against hers. Owen's arms went around her, pulling her against him and holding her tightly. His light kiss deepened swiftly with overwhelming passion and desire as his lips parted and drew her into his warm mouth. A kiss that lingered long after the party had resumed upstairs.
Charles had never kissed her this way, with this level of passion, and the sexual woman inside of her that she'd been suppressing for years was suddenly no longer content to be restrained. Startling herself, she began to tug at the front of Owen's shirt with trembling, erratic hands until it was open, exposing his strong, tan, muscular chest. Her body, heart and mind was on fire and she knew there was no way she could put it out except by giving herself to this man who was forbidden to her.
Owen's hot mouth was on her neck, biting and sucking at the tender skin, inflaming her even more as his urgent hands found the zipper on the back of her dress and tugged it down without hesitation. He, too, had been living a life void of passion and like herself, he could take it no longer.
Their clothes came off as if in a dream, neither considering or caring that someone - Charles, perhaps, or Celine - might walk in on them at any given moment. Sabrina felt the cool leather of Charles sofa against her back as Owen laid her down and covered her aching, fevered body with his own. His warm lips captured her eager mouth as he wrapped her legs around his waist. His erection was hard and swollen as he drove it deep inside her hot, wet body.
Sabrina gasped, partly from his size and thickness, and partly from the reality that she was letting this happen. But her conscience was buried deep beneath her need for passion and fulfillment, and forgotten.
Neither spoke a word as they clung to each other. Sabrina's body responded to Owen's every move, every touch, every stroke. She moaned into his mouth when he slid his hands down and gripped her firm butt, pulling her up to his every thrust as he drove his throbbing dick into her silky wet pussy again and again, each thrust more urgent than the one before until he was bouncing them on the leather cushions, his body no longer able to maintain control.
Owen's hot breath blasted against Sabrina's damp, fevered skin as the room began to spin around her and all she could feel was Owen fucking her like a desperate man. She could feel her body tightening with a fierce orgasm and knew he was close, too. If Celine or Charles walked in right now, Sabrina knew that her and Owen still wouldn't stop until they were sated.
Owen grunted and panted as his thrusts became harder and more determined, telling Sabrina he was on the brink of exploding. But she was ready. She didn't stop to consider what would happen if he got her pregnant, all she wanted at this moment in time was to feel him release inside her.
She fucked him back with urgency, letting him know all he needed to know. Their bodies could take it no longer - they exploded like the fireworks that had set off at midnight. Owen covered her mouth with his to stifle both their cries of ecstasy as their bodies released years of pent up passion and hunger.
When Owen drew back, Sabrina gasped. Her whole body trembled beneath his and she knew if she tried to stand right now, dizziness would overwhelm her.
Breathless, his skin a sheen of sweat, Owen stood up and reached for his clothes without meeting her eyes. He dressed quickly and left without a word.
His kiss lingered on her lips, in her mouth, with the sweet taste of wine long after he'd left the study. His hot touch and the feel of him inside her lingered as well. Her first clear thought was to wonder how this might change things. But she quickly realized that nothing would change. Owen had been drunk, that was all. In the morning, he wouldn't even remember speaking to her, much less making love to her. Sabrina alone would remember the way his lips had felt on hers, how strangely fulfilling their love making had been even though it had only lasted minutes, and the warm security his arms had instilled. A memory that she would allow to come alive only in her dreams.
The two year old memory of that New Year's encounter weighed heavily on Sabrina Braxton's mind as she stood anxiously on the front porch of her sister's home. She reached hesitantly for the doorknob. How had she let Celine talk her into this? Swapping identities as kids and fooling their parents was one thing, but they were adults now. Married women. This was hardly as innocent as a childhood prank.
Standing precariously in her sister's high heels and black dress which, she thought, revealed far too much skin, she struggled for a rational explanation for her actions. She reasoned that it was for Celine. Her sister and brother-in-law were having some marital problems, and it would do Celine good to get away for awhile and think things over. Besides, Sabrina had no desire to go to New York, and Celine had always wanted to go there. So where was the harm in letting her sister take her place? Her and Charles' sex life had pretty much ceased to exist a long time ago, so it wasn't as if she were placing her sister in her own husband's arms. And Celine had professed a lack of intimate relations with Owen. They would simply be going through the motions, no harm done.
“Just get on with it.” She muttered, her hand resting on the doorknob. “Quit procrastinating. You can't stay out here all night.” She'd insisted to herself that she'd agreed to this arrangement for her sister's sake. But the memory of Owen's kiss, his touch, made her wonder if there wasn't more to it. In that single encounter with her brother-in-law, she'd experienced more passion than she had in the five years she'd been married to Charles.
No, she argued silently as she twisted the knob and pushed the door open slowly. Charles was her husband, for better or worse. And despite everything, she'd never fantasized about having an affair - with anyone. Somehow she had managed to turn off her romantic desires and face the fact that marriage wasn't just about romantic gestures, or touching, kissing, making love. Such things were a fantasy no marriage could sustain for any length of time. Charles had taught her that early on in their relationship.
So why did you marry him? she wondered as she stepped into the dark hallway and closed the door. Only half conscious of her own movement, she slipped off the high heels and picked them up, stretching her aching toes. Why had she married Charles Braxton? She took a deep breath and let it out slow. Why was she dwelling on this right now? This was hardly the time for such an in-depth analysis of her motives. To cut it short and sweet, she knew she hadn't married him for his money. But what really bothered her was that she hadn't married him for love either. So what did that leave? She didn't know.
She realized too suddenly that, had she to do it all over again, she would have remained single. At least down that road, there would have always been that hope of finding that once in a lifetime lover who could make her come alive with a single touch. The same hope she had buried the day she'd vowed her life to Charles. The same hope that had fought to resurface the night Owen had taken her in his arms and made love to her so passionately.
“Get a grip, girl.” She whispered, disturbed by the soft ache tightening her voice. Owen had been drunk that night. He had no idea what he was saying or doing. And so what if he had known? They were both married, and she didn't believe that Owen nor herself were prepared to engage in an ongoing love affair that could go nowhere.
Sabrina walked softly down the hall. A faint glow drifted out through the living room archway and into the hallway. She hesitated, listening for evidence that the room was occupied. When she heard nothing, she stepped into the archway and studied the dimly lit room. A shadowed form lounged on the sofa, ankles crossed on the coffee table. She seemed helpless but to simply stand and watch him. The soft burning lamp on the end table cast a gentle glow across his face. His eyes were closed and his chest, exposed partially by his unbuttoned flannel, rose and fell in that steady rhythm of sleep.
The sudden memory of how his hot skin had felt beneath her fingertips, leaped into her mind, making her whole body tingle and ache. That same New Year s night, Charles had taken her as well. He, too, had been drunk, but his love making had lacked passion and tenderness. Sex with him had always felt more like mild rape than anything. She was thankful he no longer seemed to desire her in any way. She wasn't certain if he'd simply lost his desire for sex, or if he were seeing someone else. Either way, she didn't care. He wasn't touching her anymore, and that was all that mattered.
“You re home early.”
Sabrina jumped, startled by Owen's voice. She realized he was staring at her from the sofa, his eyes heavy with sleep. It reminded her too much of that night, when his eyes had been heavy with the effects of the wine.
“I...” She faltered, her throat suddenly thick and tight.
He was on his feet before she could think of a response, and coming towards her. “It's only eleven o'clock.” The sarcasm and cynicism in his voice was evident, as well as the thick veil of bitterness. “Couldn't find anyone to fuck? Or couldn't he hold his load and finished early?”
Sabrina's face flushed hot and knew it was surely blazing red. She was thankful for the shadows. No one had ever made such raw statements to her before, and her first instinct was to tell him not to speak to her that way. But he wasn't speaking to her...he was speaking to her sister. And what could she say in her sister's defense? She loved Celine, but she also knew Celine.
Biting her lower lip nervously, Sabrina whispered, “I'm going to bed.” She could feel Owen's eyes following her up the stairs and wondered if he suspected something was amiss with his wife. What would Celine have said to him? One thing was for certain - she wouldn't have tucked tail and slunk away.
Sabrina woke from the dream slowly, as if floating up from the dark depths of the ocean to the sparkling surface. It wasn't so much a dream as a memory. The New Year's Eve party. But even in reality it had seemed more dream than real. There were times when she wondered if it really had been a dream, and she'd convinced herself it truly happened. She'd barely spoken to Owen since that night, but the few times they had come face to face, he gave no indication he had any memory of it. So maybe it hadn't really happened at all.
She took her time showering, letting the hot water soothe away the tension that had built up last night. She still couldn't believe she actually let her sister talk her into this. How was she going to fool Owen for two weeks? Yes, she was her sister's mirror image, but only in appearance. She didn't possess Celine's characteristics, her mannerisms, they didn't even talk the same. Owen wasn't stupid. He would know something was different about her.
Sabrina wrapped one of her sister's thin, silk robes around her freshly washed body and went down to the kitchen. She'd deliberately slept later than normal to give Owen a chance to get out of the house without them encountering each other. According to Celine, once Owen left the house in the morning, he rarely came back inside until evening. Celine couldn't fathom how he could stand to spend all day around smelly animals, and she'd complained that he brought the stench into the house every night, that it clung to him like fungus.
Pouring herself a cup of coffee, Sabrina began to add cream and sugar as she thought again about the differences between her and her twin. Sabrina loved animals, especially horses. But Charles despised animals and wouldn't own anything as useless as a horse. And in the Braxton mansion, Charles' word was law.
Sabrina went to the kitchen window and looked at the stables. She yearned to go see the horses, but her presence anywhere near the animals would instantly give her away. It was ironic, really, that she was in her ideal world but couldn't partake of the joys and pleasures it offered.
Releasing a sigh, she turned from the window and gasped, her coffee cup slipping from her hands to shatter against the hard tiled floor, scattering ceramic chips and spewing hot coffee in every direction.
“Such grace.” Owen muttered, standing in the kitchen doorway. The scent of soap filled the air and Sabrina's eyes moved with a will of their own as they caressed his body hungrily. His dark hair was still wet from the shower and all he wore was a pair of jeans.
“I, uh...” She faltered yet again and dropped her eyes to the mess on the floor.
“Am I that frightening of a sight to you?” Owen's blues eyes were chipped ice as he went to the cupboard and took down a coffee cup of his own. “I realize I m no GQ candidate like Charles Braxton, but I've never had a woman scream at the sight of me either.”
At the mention of her husband's name, Sabrina tensed even more. What had made him speak of Charles?
Owen poured himself a cup of black coffee then turned around and leaned against the counter, studying her. “Since when did you start drinking coffee anyway? I've never seen you drink anything in the morning but your exotic teas.”
Sabrina grabbed a hand towel and sank to the floor to wipe up the mess. What could she say? She realized she was entirely unprepared for this whole thing. She couldn't think on her feet like Celine could. But her silence was surely baffling Owen, for Celine rarely, if ever, kept her mouth shut.
With the coffee sopped up, Sabrina gathered the shards of the broken cup into the towel and stood up. She hesitated when she noticed Owen was leaning against the counter in front of the door to the garbage. She moved towards him, hoping he would move on his own, knowing she needed to dump the broken cup. But he remained where he was until she was only a foot or so away from him. His eyes moved over her body hungrily, and suddenly it felt as if she were standing before him naked, the thin robe barely concealing her and clinging to her damp skin. She could feel her hard nipples pressing out against the silky material and it was making her feel extremely self-conscious.
“Excuse me.” She said weakly, wincing at the tremor in her voice. “I need to dump this in the trash.”
Owen stayed where he was for a moment, then moved just enough for her to get the door open and shake the towel out over the garbage can. Struggling for something to say, she asked, “Why aren't you at the stables?”
The weight of his eyes on her was making her nervous and she chanced a look at him. “It's Sunday.” He said. “You know I don't work on Sundays.”
“Charles works every day.” Sabrina said quietly, then gasped when she realized she'd spoken the thought aloud.
Owen's face turned to granite and Sabrina recoiled. “Well, I'm sorry I'm not as perfect as your sister's flawless, rich husband. But I didn't force you to marry me.” He slammed his coffee cup down on the counter and stepped forward. “Why did you marry me? Oh, I remember - you liked how I fucked. But you don't even like that anymore, do you? If I made a couple million for you, though, I bet you'd open them legs for me again, huh?”
Sabrina was frozen in place. She didn't know how to handle Owen's anger and frustration. Celine hadn't mentioned this to her. When Owen reached for the belt of her robe, she flinched on reflex but regretted it immediately when it seemed to fuel his rage.
“Tell me, darling...do you even know when the last time was that you let me look at you naked, much less touch you?”
Two years ago, Sabrina thought. But of course she didn't speak her thoughts aloud this time. Owen wasn't asking her the question, he was asking Celine. “I don't...know.” Was all she could manage.
Owen nodded. “Don't remember?” He stared at her with hard eyes. “Neither do I...but I know it's way overdue for you to perform your wifely duty.”
Sabrina gasped when he grabbed the belt and yank it loose. She clutched the robe and held it closed. “Owen, please...”
“Please, what?” His blue eyes smoldered like a storm on the sea. “You're my wife, Celine. I have every right to look at you and touch you. I didn't marry you so I could become some fucking monk.”
Behind the rage, Sabrina could clearly see the pain and frustration Owen had suffered at the hands of her sister, and was still suffering. She ached to let him take her, but what would happen when Celine came back? Would the end result be worse than the beginning? Would he suffer more to have it given to him, and then taken away again? What was she supposed to do? But before she could find an answer, he was tugging open the front of her robe. She couldn't think as his hands snaked around her body beneath the robe, gripped her butt and picked her up. Her arms and legs instinctively wrapped around him as he carried her into the downstairs guest room and dropped her on the bed.
He stood at the edge of the bed just looking down at her. The bulge in his jeans was unmistakable, and Sabrina watched as he unbuckled his belt, unfastened his jeans, then slid them down his legs and kicked them away. His erection was long and thick and already leaking pre-cum. That night in Charles' study, their love making had been quick and sudden, and she hadn't really looked at him the way she was doing now.
“Touch him.” Owen told her slowly, his voice low as he curled one hand around his hard dick and began to stroke. “Remind yourself how it feels to hold nine thick inches of pure muscle in your hands. I know your rich boy isn't packing this much.”
Sabrina raised her eyes to his. “My...my rich boy?” She frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”
Owen smiled, but there was no humor in it, only bitterness and pain. “You must really think I'm stupid.” He stopped stroking and just looked at her. “The only reason I don't expose you, is because it would crush Sabrina to find out you'd betrayed her in the worst way.”
Sabrina sat forward. “What are you talking about?”
Owen shook his head. “I'm done talking.” He pushed her back on the bed and tugged off her panties, then grabbed her legs and pulled her to the edge of the bed. “It's time you shelled out some ass to your own husband.” Owen grabbed her ankles and opened her legs.
Sabrina gasped when he sank his dick into her, balls deep, and began to grind the bottom of her pussy with the swollen head of his dick. She gripped the bedspread in fistfuls as he began to move his hips in circles, discovering places inside of her that Charles couldn't begin to find.
“Oh my god.” Owen gasped as his grip on her ankles tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut as the pure ecstasy of the moment overwhelmed him. She could see and feel the same desperation and urgency in him as she had that New Year's night two years ago. The man was starving for sexual release. But he wasn't the only one.
Sabrina squeezed his dick with her inner muscles, making him groan and open his eyes. As he held her eyes with his, a heat began to spread through her like lava and she startled herself when she cupped her own breasts with her hands and lifted one nipple to her lips and began to lick and suck at it.
Owen's chest heaved and his dick swelled inside of her. Without taking his eyes off her mouth, he began to long stroke her pussy, drawing out until just the head of his dick was barely inside, then thrusting the full length back in, over and over. The intensity of his thrusts increased rapidly until his dick was jack hammering into her, their wet bodies slapping together loudly, his balls smacking her ass cheeks.
“Yes!” She gasped loud and gripped the bedspread again fiercely as he fucked her with increased urgency. Suddenly he fell on top of her and wrapped her tightly in his arms and began to fuck her with all the strength in his body, rocking them and the bed beneath them.
Sabrina's orgasm was sudden and fierce, ripping a scream from deep inside of her as her pussy exploded around his dick, making him just fuck her harder. The feel of his swollen, throbbing dick driving into her over and over ignited a second orgasm on the tail of the first. She screamed again and sank her nails into his back, her body arching to his.
“Yes, baby!” Owen gasped hard. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” His dick exploded like a bomb, filling her pussy with hot cum as he continued to stroke in and out until the orgasm finally released him.
They held each other for a long moment, their hearts pounding and bodies trembling. Owen's embrace was fierce and tight as he laid on top of her, his face buried in the curve of her shoulder. She longed to caress him with her hands and kiss him all over, and even beg him to make love to her all over again. But that's not what her sister would do. In fact, her sister wouldn't have allowed it to go this far. Did Owen wonder why she had submitted so easily, without a fight?
Owen pushed himself up on his elbows and stared down into her flushed face. She tried to hold his probing eyes, but looked away. If he looked long into her eyes, he would discover her true identity. But though she could avoid his eyes, she couldn't resist his kiss. When his lips touched hers, she instinctively leaned up into the kiss, tightening her arms around his neck and pulling him to her. In so many ways, it was as if they were replaying that New Year's night all over again. Except this time Owen wasn't drunk, and he thought he was making love to his own wife.
Owen broke the kiss with a suddenness that startled Sabrina, and drew back, staring down at her with an odd look on his face. Then he was on his feet and pulling on his jeans. This, too, reminded her of that night - the way he had made love to her so intensely and then just left her.
“Is...is something wrong?” Sabrina sat forward slowly, tugging the robe back around her once again as she watched Owen fasten his jeans and buckle his belt. Panic began to rise inside of her when he didn't respond.
“You're good.” Owen said suddenly as he turned to look at her.
Oh god, Sabrina thought. He knows it's me.
“You just love to fuck with my mind, don t you.”
Sabrina frowned. “Ex-excuse me?”
“You give me a taste, you pretend to enjoy it.” Owen's eyes were cold. “And the next time I try to touch you, you'll be the cold bitch I've come to know so well.”
Sabrina stood up, wrapping the robe more tightly around her. “I wasn't...pretending.”
In three long strides, Owen was standing in front of her, towering over her like a deadly tidal wave about to crash down on her. He thrust his finger in her face, his stare icy and his jaw clenched. “Don't...” He growled between clenched teeth. “Don't fuck with me, Celine. I've had as much of your bullshit as I can stand. Maybe you think you can leave me and move in with your sister, but how hospitable do you think she's going to be when she finds out you've been fucking her husband?”
Sabrina's eyes widened as a dizziness began to invade her mind. “What?” She breathed out.
Owen shook his head, the rage suddenly dissipating and leaving him looking tired and worn out. “You're beyond help, Celine. You fuck over everyone who cares about you. And no one loves you like your sister does. It's her love for you that's kept me from informing her of your indiscretions with Charles. Such information would crush her.”
Sabrina sank down on the edge of the bed, hugging herself tightly. “Please leave.” She whispered, tears thickening her voice.
For a long moment, Owen just stared at her, then he turned and left without a word.
Sabrina laid down on the bed and buried her face in her hands as the truth of this whole arrangement with her sister came to light. Celine and Charles were having an affair. The switch had nothing to do with her sister's marital problems, per se. They had set this up together, to get Sabrina out of the way for awhile.
Anger, pain, and bitterness began to well up inside of her like a swelling flood, and she suddenly understood everything Owen was feeling. But her feelings of betrayal faltered slightly as she recalled the passionate session of a few minutes ago with her brother-in-law. Her sister's husband. The memory of the New Year's Eve party surfaced alongside it.
Sabrina turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. The only innocent one in all of this was Owen. He'd been drunk the first time they'd made love and didn't even remember it. And this time, he'd thought he was making love to his wife. She was betraying Owen as well. And the man didn't deserve that. She had to tell him the truth.
Admitting the truth proved to be more difficult than Sabrina could have imagined. This wasn't something she could just blurt out over breakfast. How do you want your eggs? Oh by the way, I'm Sabrina. Your wife and my husband are fucking their brains out over at my place.
Sabrina stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, yesterday morning still blazing in her mind. What should she do? Confront Celine and Charles? Would they just laugh in her face? Would Owen even believe her? Or think Celine was just playing some kind of sick game with him?
Whatever she was going to do, she needed to decide before tonight when Owen came back to the house. Either make plans to tell Owen...or go see Celine.
Taking a deep breath, Sabrina released it slowly. She left the bathroom and went to the bedroom. Before she could think about what she was doing, she grabbed the phone and dialed her sister's cell number. The went straight to voice mail.
'You know who this and you know what to do.' Her sister's voice chimed.
Sabrina hesitated then forced herself to do it. “Hey sis, it's me. I really need to talk. Soon. I don't think I can do this. Give me a ring when you get this.” Sabrina hesitated again as Owen's revelation of her sister's betrayal raced through her mind. She added weakly. “Love ya.”
Sabrina put the phone down and sat on the edge of the bed. She felt empty inside. Was it really true what Owen said? Or was he just so distrustful of his wife that his suspicions were all in his head? Sabrina had no doubts that Celine saw other men at times...but Charles? Would Celine really do something like that to her own sister?
Another stab of guilt hit Sabrina. She'd had sex twice now with Owen, her sister's husband. Was she really in any position to point fingers and feel betrayed? But what happened with Owen- both times- were spur of the moment acts. She hadn't planned it. She hadn't set out to sleep with her brother-in-law. Yet if what Owen said was true...Celine had done exactly that.
The phone rang suddenly. Sabrina jumped, then stared hesitantly at the phone as it continued to ring. She reached out uncertainly and picked it up. “Hello?”
“Is everything okay?” Celine asked instantly through the line.
“Uh...” Sabrina faltered. She had no clue as to what to say to her sister.
“Talk to me, sis.” Celine pressed. “If it's Owen, don't give him a second thought. He might rant and rave a bit, but he's harmless. I really need this break, Brin. Don't back out on me now. I just need a little time away from home to get my head together. I promise you, no one will be the wiser. And it's not hurting the guys. Please, just for the two weeks. Not a second longer. Please?”
Fuck you. Sabrina flinched at the sudden raw thought. Even knowing what she knew, she found herself once again manipulated by her sister. Why couldn't she just be a selfish bitch like Celine and say what she really felt? “Okay...I guess.” She offered weakly.
“Yes! You are the shit, Sabrina Braxton. I love you.” Celine squealed into the phone like an airhead teenager.
“So, uh...” Sabrina ventured. “How are things with Charles? Do you think he really doesn't suspect anything?”
“Are you kidding?” Celine laughed. “Charles is clueless. He locks himself in his office and I'm free to go shopping on his dime.” She paused. “Oh...you don't mind, do you? I mean, I'm really buying the stuff for you. You're gonna have a great wardrobe when you get home.”
Sabrina wondered what was wrong with her current wardrobe. But then, to someone like Celine, if your tits weren't hanging out and your ass was more than barely covered, you were overdressed.
Sabrina sighed. “Knock yourself out.”
“Thanks, sis. You re the best. The absolute best.” Celine praised. “I'm going shopping today for some new outfits to take on the New York trip. Wanna come with? We could make a day of it.”
Sabrina started to decline, then changed her mind. “Yeah, maybe I will. When should I come over?”
“About an hour. I still got to get ready.”
“See you in an hour then.”
After Sabrina set the phone down, she laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. How could Celine act like nothing was going on? Sabrina sat up slowly. What if Owen was wrong? Did he really have any proof besides his own suspicions? Maybe Charles was just an easy target since Celine visited so often.
Sabrina left the bed and hurried downstairs. She grabbed her keys and went out the front door in a rush. If she got to her place before Celine was expecting her and caught her sister off guard...then what? Sabrina slowed her walk as she approached her car. Did she really expect to walk in on Celine and Charles having sex? Was that something she even wanted to witness?
She opened the driver door and paused, looking towards the stables. Was Owen inside? Or out and about somewhere? Maybe she should just tell him the truth. Talk to him about it before she confronted Celine.
Uncertain but determined, she closed the car door and headed for the stables.
The air inside the large structure was musty and somewhat stale, but in a good way. Various horses nickered at her as she moved down the wide isle between the stalls. She walked slowly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the gloom.
“Owen?” She called hesitantly. “Are you here?”
“Hey sexy.” A male voice drawled behind her.
Sabrina spun around, startled. A tall man in his late twenties stood before her. His shirt was off and sweat glistened on his well muscled chest and arms. His jeans were dirty but fit him nicely. He held a pitchfork in one gloved hand as he slicked the other hand over his black hair. His clear blue eyes pierced her.
Uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her, Sabrina shifted uneasily. “Is...is Owen around?”
The man stepped forward, leaned the pitchfork against one of the stalls, slowly tugged off his gloves then moved towards Sabrina. “He ain't here.” He murmured as his blue eyes devoured her. “But I am. And something tells me I know what you need more than Owen ever will.”
“Excuse me?” Sabrina frowned, took a hesitant step back. “I-I don t know what you mean.”
The man chuckled. “That's cute. It turns me on when you play with me like that.”
“I'm not playing.” Sabrina said softly, uncertain how to handle the situation. Who was this guy?
He smiled, moved closer. Sabrina backed away, then stopped suddenly when her back hit one of the stall doors. The man closed the space between them, planting his hands on each side of her, locking her in place.
“I-I don t know who you are.” Sabrina tried to sound brave, forceful, but her voice was shaking. “But I am Owen's wife. I-I don t think he'd appreciate a hired hand hitting on me.”
The man chuckled again. “You are too good, baby.”
“I'm not your baby.” Sabrina shoved at his chest but he was like a brick wall, unmovable. “Let me go.”
“I'll let you go, baby.” He said quietly as he leaned in to nuzzle her neck. “I'll let you go down on me.”
“Wh-what?” Sabrina gasped, shocked. Before she knew what was happening, he was slowly pushing her down to her knees before him with one hand while the other quickly unfastened his belt and jeans.
Sabrina was eye level with his bulging crotch. She wanted to flee, but he was standing too close and still gripping her shoulder with one hand.
Panic welled inside her as he tugged his raging erection from his jeans. Was he really expecting her to...
“Come on, cowgirl.” He urged, his voice thick with lust. “Suck your cowboy's dick.”
“No.” Sabrina whimpered and tried to draw back as he pressed the thick head of his swollen dick against her lips. “Don t.”
His grip on her shoulder tightened. “Enough games.” He said tightly. “Suck my fucking dick. You been holding out on me long enough.”
“I-I don t know what you mean.” Sabrina trembled, tears in her eyes. “I don t even know you.”
Suddenly the man's hand was in her hair, gripping painfully. “Don't fuck with me, Celine.” He hissed. “I ain't in the mood. I'm hot and fuckin' horny. You promised me regular visits if I did you that favor but I haven't seen nothin' of you since then.”
“What favor?” Sabrina cried. “I don't know what you re talking about?” In desperation, she added quickly. “I'm not Celine. I'm Sabrina, her sister.”
“Sabrina?” He stared down at her with disbelieving eyes. “Nice try. I was up by the house yesterday morning, I saw you and Owen fucking. Owen's a stand up guy, he wouldn't fuck your sister.”
“I swear.” Sabrina sobbed. “It's the truth.”
“You're such a lying bitch.” He snarled and yanked her head back. With his free hand, he gripped his dick and positioned the head against her lips. “Open your mouth, slut. You re gonna take this dick, all of it. And if you even think of biting me, I swear I ll rip your teeth out one by one.”
Sabrina shook her head and held her mouth closed, tears streaming down her face.
“Do it!” He raged, and smacked her head back against the stall. “Open your fucking mouth!”
Terrified that he would actually hurt her, Sabrina slowly parted her lips. He pressed the head of his dick between her lips. “Wider.” He ordered. “Open wider.”
She hesitated then opened her mouth as wide as she could. Instead of entering her mouth slowly, he shoved his dick to the back of her throat, gagging her. She pulled back on reflex, choking and gagging.
“I can't.” She sobbed.
“Bullshit.” He hissed. “Now open up and suck on it the right way.”
Sabrina slowly opened her mouth again, but this time took hold of his dick herself. Maybe if he thought she was willing, he d let her do it more slowly. Otherwise, she was certain he would choke her, maybe to death.
Forcing her stomach not to lurch, she slowly covered the head of his dick with her mouth and sucked on it. He seemed to relax a bit and his grip on her hair eased. “That's it.” He groaned. “I knew you liked this.”
When she continued to only suck at the head, he began to nudge her, letting her know he wanted in deeper. He wasn't as big as Owen, but still larger than Charles. And she was barely able to handle Charles. But she had no choice. He wasn't going to let her go until she did this.
She opened wider, allowing him to press in deeper, trying to suck at his hard flesh without raking him with her teeth. She'd accidentally raked Charles' dick with her teeth the first time she'd went down on him, the first time she'd went down on anyone, and he taught her quick to watch her teeth. The week long black eye had been enough to teach her to be extra careful.
Only half his dick was in her mouth and already she could feel herself wanting to gag. Did he really expect her to take it all in? But she knew he did.
Both his hands gripped her head as he began to thrust into her mouth, slowly at first, sinking the head of his dick to the back of her throat and drawing out just as she started to gag on it. He did this repeatedly until she figured out how to relax her throat a bit and take it. But now the bitter taste of pre-cum he was leaving on her tongue and in her mouth was making her want to gag. Was he going to cum in her mouth? She would puke, she was certain of it. Charles never ejaculated in her mouth. Oddly enough he found it revolting. Something she'd been grateful for.
“Yeah, baby.” He groaned as he drove his dick into her throat again and again. “Oh fuck yeah.” He slowed his thrusts until he wasn't moving at all. “Now your turn. You stroke my dick with your sweet, hot mouth, baby. Show me how you can fuck dick with that mouth of yours.”
Sabrina did as she was told, trying to block from her mind what she was doing as she stroked her mouth up and down his dick, sucking at his thick flesh as best she could.
“Fuuuck, baby.” He groaned tightly. “I knew you were into this.” He placed one hand on the back of her head and helped her stroke, forcing her to stroke faster. “Make me cum, sexy. I wanna shoot my wad into that nasty mouth of yours. And you re gonna drink it, every drop.”
Sabrina closed her eyes and felt her stomach turn as she continued to suck his dick until he was panting and gasping and thrusting into her mouth again, this time with urgency. “Oh god, baby. Oh fuck, I m right there. Get ready now. Yes!”
Suddenly her mouth was filled with thick hot cum that didn't want to go down her throat. He held his dick in her mouth as more cum squirted out of him. “Swallow!” He ordered when he saw it trickling from her mouth.
She tried to swallow but it seemed to be getting thicker. She started to gag and pulled her mouth off his dick forcefully, turned to the side and spit the thick fluids onto the ground, gagging and coughing.
He smirked and stepped back, stuffing his dick back in his jeans and refastening them. “That's a down payment, darlin'.” He said.
Sabrina slowly turned her head and looked up at him as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her face flushed and tear streaked.
“I'll be coming for the rest of what you owe me later.”
Fresh tears filled her eyes and streaked her face. She crawled to her feet quickly and hurried out of the stables.