sick to her stomach each time, especially when her adversary was her own father, whose mind had been taken over by dark, inexplicable shadows that made him distrust everything and everyone around him. He couldn’t even trust his own senses anymore, the poor bastard.
Lise was the last to go, leading the doddering Trey by the hand. Honor winced to see him so frail. She could only pray that, behind closed doors, his child-wife treated him with more kindness and compassion than she’d shown today. Somehow, she doubted it.
“I’ll make you proud, Dad,” she heard herself calling after him, ashamed to hear her voice breaking with emotion. Why did she still need his approval so badly? “I’ll make Palmers great again. You’ll see.”
Turning to look at her as the elevator doors opened, Trey shook his head bitterly. He knew his periods of lucidity were getting rarer and rarer. But to be outwitted by his own daughter was more than his pride could bear.
“I hope God forgives you for this, Honor,” he muttered darkly. “Because I never will.”
And stepping into the elevator with the rest of his so-called family, he was gone.
CHAPTER TWO
L UCAS, STOP—WE can’t! My husband might come any minute.”
Lucas Ruiz unzipped his jeans and pushed Mrs. Leon back against the living room wall, hitching up her skirt as he did so.
“Fuck your husband,” he growled. “
I’m
going to come any minute. And I intend to be inside you when I do.”
They were in the living room of the Leons’ luxury villa in Ibiza. To Lucas’s left, double-height glass doors gave way to one of the most stunning panoramas on the island. Manicured gardens ran down the hillside, merging into olive groves that in turn blurred into the still, sparkling blue of the Mediterranean.
But Lucas was focused on a different view.
At forty-four, Carla Leon was twenty years his senior, but she still had a body designed for fucking. Her tits were round and high and seemed to be straining now at the silk and lace of her bra as if willing him to release them. Her legs were long but shapely, not like the twiggy twentysomething models at Pacha who seemed to think it sexy to starve themselves skeletal. Boy, did he hate that look. And even after three children her stomach was flat and toned, a testament to the long hours she spent each week in the gym.
Lucas was impressed. He liked a woman who took care of herself.
“Oh, God,” Carla moaned, closing her eyes and squeezing her muscles tightly around his dick as he powered into her, despite her earlier protests. “That’s so good.”
“Shhh,” he said, slipping a rough, warm hand over her mouth. “Your husband, remember? Besides, I’ve hardly started.”
It was by no means the first time that he’d “visited” Mrs. Leon. They’d first met five years ago, when he was still in his teens, and she and her husband were vacationing in Ibiza for the first time. Back then he was stuck working for that asshole Miguel, washing sheets and scrubbing toilets at the dreadful Hotel Britannia in San Antonio, the scummiest part of the island.
Even then, he already knew he was going to get out one day. One thing Lucas Ruiz had never been lacking was ambition. Nevertheless, it was Carla Leon who’d bought him his ticket to a new life, funding him through hotel management school in Switzerland.
This was the summer after his graduation, and he’d come back to see her to express his gratitude the best way he knew how.
Staggering across the room with Carla’s long legs wrapped around his waist, he laid her down on the pool table.
“Careful! Don’t break it!” she gasped, arching her back and throwing her arms back behind her head so she could grip the corner pockets. Ignoring her, Lucas climbed on top of her, increasing the pace of his thrusts as he ripped at the lace of her bra with his teeth.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he breathed, his long black hair tickling her shoulders and neck now as he whispered in
Lise was the last to go, leading the doddering Trey by the hand. Honor winced to see him so frail. She could only pray that, behind closed doors, his child-wife treated him with more kindness and compassion than she’d shown today. Somehow, she doubted it.
“I’ll make you proud, Dad,” she heard herself calling after him, ashamed to hear her voice breaking with emotion. Why did she still need his approval so badly? “I’ll make Palmers great again. You’ll see.”
Turning to look at her as the elevator doors opened, Trey shook his head bitterly. He knew his periods of lucidity were getting rarer and rarer. But to be outwitted by his own daughter was more than his pride could bear.
“I hope God forgives you for this, Honor,” he muttered darkly. “Because I never will.”
And stepping into the elevator with the rest of his so-called family, he was gone.
CHAPTER TWO
L UCAS, STOP—WE can’t! My husband might come any minute.”
Lucas Ruiz unzipped his jeans and pushed Mrs. Leon back against the living room wall, hitching up her skirt as he did so.
“Fuck your husband,” he growled. “
I’m
going to come any minute. And I intend to be inside you when I do.”
They were in the living room of the Leons’ luxury villa in Ibiza. To Lucas’s left, double-height glass doors gave way to one of the most stunning panoramas on the island. Manicured gardens ran down the hillside, merging into olive groves that in turn blurred into the still, sparkling blue of the Mediterranean.
But Lucas was focused on a different view.
At forty-four, Carla Leon was twenty years his senior, but she still had a body designed for fucking. Her tits were round and high and seemed to be straining now at the silk and lace of her bra as if willing him to release them. Her legs were long but shapely, not like the twiggy twentysomething models at Pacha who seemed to think it sexy to starve themselves skeletal. Boy, did he hate that look. And even after three children her stomach was flat and toned, a testament to the long hours she spent each week in the gym.
Lucas was impressed. He liked a woman who took care of herself.
“Oh, God,” Carla moaned, closing her eyes and squeezing her muscles tightly around his dick as he powered into her, despite her earlier protests. “That’s so good.”
“Shhh,” he said, slipping a rough, warm hand over her mouth. “Your husband, remember? Besides, I’ve hardly started.”
It was by no means the first time that he’d “visited” Mrs. Leon. They’d first met five years ago, when he was still in his teens, and she and her husband were vacationing in Ibiza for the first time. Back then he was stuck working for that asshole Miguel, washing sheets and scrubbing toilets at the dreadful Hotel Britannia in San Antonio, the scummiest part of the island.
Even then, he already knew he was going to get out one day. One thing Lucas Ruiz had never been lacking was ambition. Nevertheless, it was Carla Leon who’d bought him his ticket to a new life, funding him through hotel management school in Switzerland.
This was the summer after his graduation, and he’d come back to see her to express his gratitude the best way he knew how.
Staggering across the room with Carla’s long legs wrapped around his waist, he laid her down on the pool table.
“Careful! Don’t break it!” she gasped, arching her back and throwing her arms back behind her head so she could grip the corner pockets. Ignoring her, Lucas climbed on top of her, increasing the pace of his thrusts as he ripped at the lace of her bra with his teeth.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he breathed, his long black hair tickling her shoulders and neck now as he whispered in
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