Dear Mrs. Victoria Daniels,
Enclosed please find the approved and verified copy of your late husband, Stewart Harrington’s, Last Will and Testament. I’m pleased to report that everything was as you assumed. The bulk of Mr. Harrington’s assets were bequeathed to you.
The only other individual specifically named by Mr. Harrington was Travis Daniels, Mr. Harrington’s only remaining blood relative. You will see that he was individually bequeathed ten percent of all cash assets. That did not include business holdings or investments.
As I’m sure you’re aware, since you and Mr. Daniels’ chose not to have a prenuptial agreement, the division of assets is no longer significant.
If our firm can be of any further assistance to you or Mr. Daniels, please do not hesitate to contact us.
Sincerely,
cc: Travis Daniels
I reached for the envelope addressed to him. It felt the same. I was sure it was his copy. I wasn’t shocked that Stewart had left money to Travis: the two were obviously close. What shocked me, surprised me, and fucking blew me away was that they were related. How? A fucking cousin?
Travis was thirty-nine. Stewart was fifty when he died. Travis couldn’t be Stewart’s son. Besides, their coloring was all wrong. Stewart was blonde with blue eyes. Travis had dark brown eyes and brown hair.
Then I thought about Val: her light brown hair and my long dark hair. Now that I knew the truth, I knew my hair and skin tone came from my father’s side of the family. We looked different because we had different fathers. Travis’ last name was Daniels, and Stewart’s was Harrington.
The only thing Travis had told me about his mother was that she was the woman with the twelve-year-old son: the one who was sucked into the Durante hell and the one whom Travis felt he righted by helping to expose their dealings. The only other thing I knew about her was that she was deceased. I was confident that Stewart didn’t share the same mother. He was raised in the lap of luxury with both of his parents.
As my mind searched for answers, more questions arose. Why didn’t one of them tell me? How had Travis been a part of my life ever since I met Stewart and I never knew that they were related? Why wouldn’t Travis tell me?
I got a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. Travis had never mentioned his father. When I asked, he told me that he didn’t know him. Since I could relate, I never pushed it. But now I wondered if Travis and Stewart could have shared a father. Could Stewart’s father have been one of the Durantes’ friends? The whole thing made my stomach lurch. I didn’t want to imagine Travis’ mother with friends. A cool sheen of perspiration formed on my brow.
Travis had told me that he wasn’t honorable, but he’d also said he’d always been straight with me. I asked him if I could believe him and he’d told me that he didn’t know. What the fuck did that mean? If his father was the same as Stewart’s, could I possibly be nothing more than a way for him to get to Stewart’s money and power? Was that what he had planned all along?
I didn’t want to think like that. I couldn’t. I’d finally gotten my normal, as fucking normal as I could. I mean, I was a killer and as painful as that truth was, both Travis and I knew it. He didn’t know what I’d done to Stewart, but he knew about the others. I tried not to think about it… I refused to think about it…
Opening Travis’ envelope, I removed the letter, placed Stewart’s will back inside, and laid the envelope on the corner of my desk. As I watched both letters shred, I told myself, I would have my happily ever after. I fucking deserved it. I’d earned it, and I had no intentions of losing it. Karma could kiss my ass.
WITH MY BACK against the tile wall and the warm spray assaulting our skin, I peered out behind veiled lids and watched as Travis lathered his chest. As his large hand covered in soap went lower, sudsing the fine trail of dark hair that led to his gorgeously engorged cock, I couldn’t think about anything but having him inside of me. When our eyes met, I saw the familiar dark, narrowing gaze, the one that sent my insides into spasms.
“Mrs. Daniels, is there something you want?”
“Fuck, yes,” I moaned as I reached out and grasped his cock. Despite my thumb and finger not touching, I moved my hand up and down creating a rhythm as my other hand reached for his heavy balls and rolled them between my fingers.
“Fuck! Vikki, you’re killing me.”
“After what you did for me this morning, I think it’s my turn,” I replied with a grin, falling to my knees. With the spray of the shower, I tilted my head to the side and rinsed the soapy foam from his rock-hard penis. With both hands on his shaft, I opened wide and took him inside my mouth. My tongue ran circles around the head as I tasted his salty dew. Moving my head up and down, I listened to the sound of his breathing.
As it quickened, I slid him out of my mouth and licked his length. My tongue lapped the pulsating vein, as his balls tightened and he fisted my hair. With a growl, he plunged deep inside my throat.
Just as his cock began to throb, Travis reached for my chin. “Fuck this, Vik, I want to come inside that pussy. Stand up.”
When I did, he turned me around. “I’m fucking you from behind, babe. Hold on tight.”
I was already wet from our earlier round and sucking him had my sex primed. Holding on to the wall I spread my legs and lifted my ass. In one hard thrust, he filled me, stretching my core to the brink. “Oh fucking God, that feels so good!” I moaned, as my fingers splayed and I tried desperately to hold on to the smooth surface. Over and over he pounded, deeper and deeper until all I could do is call out his name, “Travis, oh my God!”