Page 4 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part One
Hendrick
Iwatched the girl head toward the pumphouse with that fucking dumbass Corey. He was a goddamn idiot, but she wasn’t. She was… annoying. Honestly, I’d kind of thought she was a lesbian, but apparently she just hated me. I don’t know why though. I hadn’t spoken to her in the two months she’d been here. I didn’t pay any attention to her until last week, when she’d stood in the hallway and watched me fuck the nurse in the supply closet. Not gonna lie, I might have put a little extra enthusiasm into it, knowing there was an audience.
And when I’d looked over my shoulder, all I’d seen was a swirl of skirts and those bouncing golden curls as she stomped away.
Mmm, she was an enigma, and I was bored as fuck. Still, it burned to watch her strut away with that shithead after rejecting me so solidly.
The phone in my pocket buzzed and I pulled it out. Otto's name flashed on the home screen, so I tapped the group chat icon.
Otto: Ready to bust out yet?
I huffed a laugh and sat down in the spot that the girl, Aviva, had just vacated.
Me: Nah. At least Dad isn’t riding my fucking ass in here.
I didn’t use standard texting abbreviations because that shit pissed Otto off. He was a stickler for the written word, and I owed him enough that I wouldn’t give him shit about it and I’d use my words properly.
Sam: Wrd on the st is that he’s busy riding his secretary’s ass, nasty af.
Yeah, Sampson didn’t give a fuck what anyone wanted, not Otto and not me. I gritted my teeth at the news my father was screwing his secretary, but I wasn’t surprised. She would have signed an NDA before he got into her panties, and therefore, she’d be too scared to go public with that shit, so it would always just be rumors.
My mother wouldn’t care either because she was fucking the driver, the pool boy, and her yoga instructor. She was a cliché, but what could you expect? My father was an asshole, and she was a drunk.
Otto didn’t rise to Sam’s baiting, and a pain stabbed me in the chest. I missed these guys down here in my parental-ordered isolation. I didn’t say that though.
Me: Fuck you guys. It’s nice here. Like Aruba without the gold diggers. Might hit up the beach.
Sam: We’ll be there in six hours. I’ll take the jet.
I laughed low, stuffing my phone back into my pocket. Sampson didn’t screw around. I leaned back against the tree, watching the pumphouse out of the corner of my eye.
Fuck it.
I climbed to my feet, brushing the grass from the back of my shorts and strolling back toward the main building of the treatment center. Honestly, it must have been a former mansion—it looked like something that should be in Hollywood Hills rather than Florida, and was filled to the brim with drug addicts and social media influencers with eating disorders.
My feet slowed as I passed the path toward the pool pumphouse, hidden away as it was by lush gardens. Turning, I walked around the side so I was standing at the back of the building. It was dark in there, no windows, so maybe they weren’t even in there. Maybe she’d just walked through the gardens toward the center’s side entrance.
But as I leaned closer, I could hear it. The soft moans of a woman. My dick instantly hardened in my shorts, and I gripped it through the material. Looking around, I made sure no one could see me back here. Luckily, it was pretty covered by the overgrown bamboo screening.
The mechanical whir of the pump covered most of the noises coming from within, but when I rested my ear against the sheet metal, I could hear it so clearly that she must have just been on the other side.
“Yes,” came another breathy moan, and then the distinctive sound of skin slapping against skin. More moans, and my dick throbbed. Looking around again, I reached into my shorts and dragged out my dick. I listened as she moaned, imagined it was me fucking her, her skirt flipped up around her waist as I pounded into her.
“Harder,” came the breathy command, and the snapping sounds got louder. Yeah, he definitely had her bent over the workbench in there. I’d fucked a nurse there the other day. It made it easy for me to imagine wrapping my fingers in those golden curls and gripping them in my fist as I pounded away.
I stroked my dick as her moans got a little more frantic. “Don’t stop,” she panted, and then I heard an annoyed sound. “No, no, go back to how you were— Umph.”
Yep, that was definitely an annoyed groan. When I heard a masculine grunt afterwards, I knew that Corey had blown his load before she’d even gotten off.
I grinned as I stuffed my dick back in my pants, tucking it under the waistband of my pants and fluffing my shirt over it to hide the raging erection. I shuffled back to the main path, sitting on the seat by the back door like I’d been there the whole time watching my phone.
A couple of moments later, when Aviva—fucking hippy ass name if you asked me—appeared, I smirked at her flushed cheeks and irritated expression. Her steps faltered when she saw me there, and I gave her a knowing grin. “Sure you don’t need any help?”
She huffed and marched past me, slamming the door so hard it was a wonder the plate glass didn’t break.
Oh. Maybe little Aviva would be fun. Standing, I sauntered into the main rec area behind her, but turned off toward the rooms. I didn’t have to share and even had my own ensuite—perks of paying off the admin staff. It was almost dinner time, and I needed a shower to take care of a problem that was still achingly hard in my pants.
I had a feeling that when I closed my eyes under the warm water of the shower, it was a certain pissed off face that I would see when I came.
