When I open my eyes, I find myself blinking as sunlight streaks through the open door. "Oh good," he smiles. "You're awake. I..." he looks down at his hands, suddenly nervous. "I have something I want to show you.""How long was I asleep?" I ask meekly as I rub my eyes, Atlas leading me down a gravel road. "Where are we? This isn't the estate."The Steele Family estate is nestled in the heights above Beverly Hills. We are nowhere near that now. "I told you I was taking you home," he grins up at me through his lashes, his fingers interlaced with mine. Lately, the Atlas Steele I've seen has been more shy than confident. Could it be that his confidence hides an inner fear of rejection? "I wanted to wait until I received your answer...but I also can't wait to show you this place. I...I hope you like it.""What is this about, Atlas," I query as the driveway bends around and empties into a beautiful garden of roses and jasmine and other flowers in bright colors, the whole space glowing wi
"Yes?" Atlas repeats, puzzled. "Yes, you probably should have told me about this before you brought me here," I smirk, "But also, yes to your question from before," I smile as I wait for him to realize what I am saying. "Yes?" he asks again, only now he knows what I am talking about. "Do you? I mean I...?"Stepping onto my tip toes I close the gap between us and kiss him gently. "Yes, Atlas, I want to marry you again. And I love this home," I hold onto his shoulders as his arms wrap around my waist. "It's perfect."He pulls me into him and kisses me. It isn't the hesitant kiss of first love or the hot and bothered kisses we were sharing in the car. This is a kiss of gentle deepness of shared growth and hope for tomorrow. As we kiss I see our children growing up around us, playing in the forest, bringing friends over for sleepovers. I see Atlas spending less time in the office and more time here, making pancakes and pursuing new hobbies and passions, supporting me side by side as we
[Cordelia]Giggling like school children Altas pulls me upstairs to the second floor of the house. The first door to the right is a smaller bedroom. It is decorated in shades of green and blue with an assembled crib and changing table. In the corner near the sunlit window is a large, cushioned glider with a matching stool. "This was my bedroom," he smiles as he places a hand on the wall. "Now it will be his.""When did you have this done?" I look around, marveling at all the small, intricate details, like a mini fridge to store breast milk and milk warmer for feedings when I'm away. There are even clothes and all the little necessities he will need as he grows. "Tilly and Clark were up here this morning," he confesses, "I...I knew that I wanted to ask you today. I had planned a whole romantic morning for us. This week was supposed to be our week away from everything." He wraps his arms around me, snuggling in from behind. "We couldn't have predicted that Angelica would have been in
[Cordelia]"I think I still remember the secret code," Atlas grins as he fiddles with the lock. I come closer and notice it isn't as simple a contraption as I originally assumed. The lock is digital, unusual for a lock that is over 25 years old. "Mom was a bit of a tech genius," Atlas grumps as he tries to figure out the code and is denied again with a loud buzzing sound. "I think she's where Clark gets his tech savviness from. She'd tinker around the house, making little things like this," he points to the lock. "She was so ahead of her time." "I wanted to show you our old treasure maps," he sighs as he sets the lock down, giving up on opening the lock for the evening. "I thought the code was Dad's birthday, but it isn't working." He frowns. "I'll have to check and see if Clark remembers. I doubt it, though, he was only 3 when they died.""What's this?" I ask, pointing to a panel on the back side of the lock. "Maybe this has something to do with why it won't open." Atlas flips it o
[Atlas]After two more days of almost non-stop lovemaking, I waited until Cordelia was in a very good mood before I told her the bad news. "What did...oh God..." she moans as I lick her clit. "Did you just say reality TV show?"Her knees are bent over my shoulders as I make a second breakfast of her sweet honey. I love the way she whimpers when I snack on her like this, her body unable to resist the gentle urgings of my tongue as I lick her clean. "Stop trying to distract me," she reaches down to grab my hair, but I do something with my tongue that makes her change her mind and press my face deeper into her folds instead."Never. Mind. Never. Stop." she pants. One hour and three orgasms later, she eventually remembered what we had been talking about. "Cordelia," our naked bodies are curled into one another, my shaft lined up with her beautifully curved bottom as my arms hold her lovely, round belly. "I wanted to tell you sooner, but after the hospital," It is hard for me to finish
[Angelica]I have never felt as bad as I do right now.Not even during the months of rehabilitation as I healed from the first car accident. Not during the painful plastic surgery I had to undergo to restore my beauty or any of the procedures that Jude performed on me with the hopes of giving us a child someday.There isn't a single part of me that doesn't hurt.The last thing I remember is the sound of a horn and the feeling of flying after the bus slammed into me. I can't remember how I ended up in the street in front of the bus to begin with. Did I trip? Was I pushed?I should be dead either way. One doesn't usually walk away from being hit by a bus."I guess I didn't walk away," I try to say, but start to choke around a respirator shoved down my throat, helping my lungs breathe. Panicking I start to flap around, trying to pull the damned thing from my throat.What the absolute hell? How many machines am I h
[Cordelia]Atlas looks flawless. He often does. But unlike before, when I found his perfect exterior intimidating, Now that we have become so much closer, I know that his cold exterior is his armor, a mask he wears to keep his true self safe and hidden from the rest of the world. The fashion industry is cruel and cutthroat, as can the rest of the LA elite. I don't blame his parents for chosing to raise their boys far away from the madness of LA society. I am grateful that he thought ahead to stop at the Steele family manor before heading into town. He even had someone bring up some of my clothing, for which I am grateful. None of the clothes I had left behind when I moved out fit me, not only in size but in personality. The Cordelia Steele who walked out on Atlas that night is no longer the Cordelia Steele I am today. Her clothing would feel like borrowing someone else's castoffs."Wear the emeralds," Atlas insists as he stands behind me in the mirror. "They will give you strength.
[Sydney]I hate flying coach. "We need to make a good impression," her father explained. "If you want people to believe you are a better person, you need to show them that you feel remorse for your actions. Remorseful people don't ride first class."My mother put a gentle hand on his shoulder trying to temper his anger. He's been upset with me since the interview went public. He threatened to cut me out of the will and take away my trust fund he was so angry. "Atlas' attorneys are threatening to take away everything we owe, Sydney, and all because you couldn't keep your big mouth shut!":I don't see what I did wrong. I didn't lie. Cordelia's family is full of crooks. I just brought her Greyson corruption to light."And what is this nonsense about Cordelia copying you? You've never designed a single thing in your life," My father's face was red as shoved my garments into a leather suitcase. "Now you need to go to LA and prove you are not a liar when indeed that is exactly what you are.