Page 12 of Dark Surrender

Dark

Tall evergreen shrubs, trimmed to a pretentious perfection, line the fine gravel road as far as the eye can see. Sitting beside me in the backseat of her car, Penelope chatters nonstop about her love for the house we’re visiting. It’s her favorite of the six her family owns. I barely pay attention.

Once we pass through the arch and around the center fountain, we park in front of the sprawling, multimillion-dollar home and its abundance of boring-ass white. Tony gets out to unload our luggage from the trunk as a butler, dressed in a suit, trots down the front steps, opens Pen’s door, and welcomes her. They seem to know each other well, as she hooks her arm through his and they catch up like old friends.

Leaving Tony to do his job, I step out of the car and explore the place on my own, starting with the two-story-tall entrance and the double staircase leading to the second floor. Every room I come across is far too big, coated in sterile white with the occasional beige, and smells of blood money.

Penelope’s excited chatter reaches me as I enter a formal dining room with a table long enough to seat twenty. She comes through a door, glancing over her shoulder and waving to someone in the other room.

“Tell Maria thank you for the flowers and the chocolates. I’m so glad she’s here,” she calls before she turns to me, hooks her arm through mine, and leans up to peck my cheek.

“Hello, Darling, isn’t the place magnificent?” She bounces on her toes, vibrating with excitement.

“Sure.” I shrug, not seeing the appeal but not wanting to shit on her good mood either.

“Let’s change into our bathing suits and wait by the pool for everyone else to arrive.”

With nothing better to do, I shrug again and let Penelope drag me up the stairs, down a hall lined with a dozen or more closed doors, and into one at the far end.

She gasps at the ocean view that greets us. A fresh, briny breeze ruffles the curtains as it floats through the open balcony door. Disengaging from me, Penelope skips to our unpacked bags, strips down, and puts on a pale blue bikini, which is nothing more than a triangle of fabric to cover her tits and pussy.

She wiggles her ass at me as she settles the string of fabric between her cheeks. “You like?”

“Yes,” I lie, not caring all that much for her ass. I’ve seen better asses. I’ve fucked better asses. If I loved her, maybe her ass would do it for me, but given that I don’t love anyone that way, it’s just skin in a roundish shape with minimal cellulite and no stretch marks. It doesn’t get my dick hard if that’s what she’s expecting. If it’s some playful banter she’s hoping for, I’m not the man for that. We’ve had an open marriage the entire time we’ve been together. She’s more than welcome to get her kicks elsewhere. Whether or not she chooses to do so doesn’t make a fucking bit of difference to me.

Listen, I know I’m a prick. I also know that I’m bein’ an asshole, given that this is supposed to be a nice getaway weekend to talk business and relax by the pool or on the beach. But I can’t relax. Not with Penelope, and sure as fuck not with Harold around.

Needing to get my head in the game, I drag a pair of black swim trunks outta my bag, strip naked, and put the damn things on. I’ve never worn these before. Hell, I didn’t even know I owned a pair until now.

“Do you like?” Pen asks from the doorway of the attached bath, where she’s grabbed us a set of beach towels and a bottle of sunscreen.

“These?” I tug my waistband.

“Yes. I think you look hot.” Her gaze rakes up and down my body.

The shorts are too short and tight. They hug my ass like a second skin and my bulge… We don’t even wanna go there. Everyone is gonna know what I’m packin’, which, by the lip-licking Pen’s doing as she focuses on my dick, is the entire point. Whatever. I’ll be eye candy if that’s what gets me through the weekend.

“Don’t worry, Darling, Poppy will be here soon enough, and she’ll be more than happy to help you relax. I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend your weekend, but this is important to Daddy.”

Oh. I’m sure it is. I just don’t give a damn what’s important to him.

“Is your mom gonna be here?” I ask as I slide on a pair of black sandals Penelope packed for me.

“No. Why would she be?”

“They’re married. It’s a family weekend. That’s the point, right?”

“Mom spends May through August in Spain every year.”

Ah. That’s why I haven’t seen her lately.

“So your dad is bringing…” I trail off for Pen to fill in.

“Ava.”

“Is she the one with the weird eyes or the one with the black hair?” I ask.

“The one with the black hair was Angela. Daddy ended that relationship months ago…” Penelope wrinkles her nose at me. “Ava’s eyes are not weird.”