Author: RedJoan

Downing Abbey – Chapter 12

**(Lucas)**

*I love you.*
*I love you.*

Again and again the three words barreled through my mind.

Those words came from *my* mouth.

There wasn’t much I was afraid of saying. Cross-examining witnesses was a sport to me. I probed and found where it hurts, and then I dug my heel in with all I had. I probably deserve an affiliate cheque from all the therapists I’ve sent work to over the years, but I felt like I needed to see my own right now to understand the simultaneous fear and elation that was battling within my stomach.

When I was younger, I thought I knew what love was. It was hugs and kisses and flowers, not because it was Valentine’s day, but because that’s what people in love did. I liked the idea of it, which is why I thought Tammy and her auburn hair was love. It was why I thought Pamela and her beautiful paintings was love. But after I dug my head into love’s ass and found nothing for me on the other side, I spent the a few years playing wingman for Jacob. Read more »

Downing Abbey – Chapter 11 [MF]

Chapter 1: https://redd.it/6yxcps

(Abigail)

He asked if I would, and I didn’t say no.

This dress was supposed to say casual colorful, but all it felt like now was an accident waiting to happen. It felt too short and my antsy hands were preemptively predicting an errant gust lifting it up and giving everyone on this sidewalk a view of my private valley.

I couldn’t remember the last time I went commando. I always did my laundry, and stayed away from the woods where such a shortage might occur, but I would be lying if I said this didn’t feel . . . naughty. Forbidden. Some freakishly hot deviancy that made my breaths a little deeper and my thoughts a little shallower.

We were late, and I spent the entire ride over here trying to formulate a passable excuse. The traffic was bad – on a Saturday morning? I forgot her present and had to double back – made me sound like an awful friend. The alarm didn’t wake us up – what are we, in high school? I hoped she wouldn’t notice the hurried make-up or the indulgent frizz of my hair, because the real reason was fucking embarrassing. That is, the reason was “fucking” and it was embarrassing. Read more »

Downing Abbey – Chapter 10 [MF]

(Lucas)

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

They say sex with a limp receiver isn’t enjoyable. Well that’s bullshit, especially if the reason for her lack of participation is a knotted tie. I didn’t blink once as I linked her wrists to the bedposts, but right now, my eyes could barely stay open. While my inner cavemen was flexing with pride in the moonlight, pulling all the weight for two hours was exhausting.

And I loved every second of it.

A tight whimper as I massaged her cheeks reminded me that they were beautifully tender from the less-than-gentle treatment, and her backside displayed every shade between salmon and maroon. This was my favorite time of day, of existence – touching Abigail after taking her for a ride on the Orgasm Express.

‘Fuck, I’m so well fucked, so entirely fucking fucked,’ she murmured as she turned her back to me and put a hand on my thigh, an invitation for post-sex spooning. Read more »

Downing Abbey – Chapter 9

(Abigail)

Nervous. I was definitely nervous. Atypical of me, considering I was a pressure person. Chatted up my driving examiner while getting perfect checks in every category. Haven’t had an interview where I didn’t get an offer afterwards. But the only thing keeping me grounded in this elevator was the touch of Luke’s hand on my waist.

Considering this was the first time that I’ve met a man’s family – I wasn’t about to say “boyfriend” because we’ve never had that discussion – I was doing okay. I didn’t spend two hours picking out the perfect outfit and I didn’t zone out into a wobbly abyss during the ride over here. I just wasn’t sure if these anxious wisps were from the fact that this was a first or that Luke was becoming more than a hot hook-up with eyes that could melt glaciers.

Speaking of them, looking into those emeralds solidified that he was my rock, his boyish grin yet claiming another gram of my heart. My lips mirrored his, as did my hand as I wrapped a free arm around his waist. That light electricity was there as usual, and deep inside I knew that it would always be that way. Read more »

Downing Abbey – Chapter 8

(Lucas)

It shouldn’t have been as easy as a weekend with my hot brunette to turn me into a creepy face-gazer like that powdered donut from those vampire novels. The orange rays invading from the east-facing windows lit up her serene face into a warm glow, and between that and the fact she was naked underneath the sheets except for my college tee had my mind split between thoughts of adoration and perversion.

Hickeys on her shoulders and hair all wild and disheveled from being clutched in my fist – Princess Diaries liked a tasteful amount of hair-pulling –, she looked even more perfect than usual, my personal touches adding a sense of customized well-fucked that fed my urge to dominate and claim. I brushed a few strands of displaced hair out of her mouth, and took a deep breath in my newfound place of zen.

This became my ritual, and it was the same yesterday, and the morning before that. She stole this opportunity from me the first time she was here, and I wasn’t about to let that slip away again. It was a warm June morning, and all I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and bury inside of her, but I needed to get into work today and knowing what a time freak she was, she’d probably slap me for letting her sleep this late, but she needed her sleep. Read more »

Downing Abbey – Chapter 7

(Abigail)

My eyes were darting around. It was quiet, except for the rhythmic breaths of the man beside me, his fuzzy chest rising and slumping against my back. His body was warm, but instead of basking into his heat like a bearded dragon, I felt chilly. Even bearded dragons had personal dens to retreat to after a blurry night of wild, crazy sex.

I was nervous to move, to breathe too loudly. I didn’t want to wake him up and have the awkward morning after talk where we both made it seem like what happened was a good idea and we would see each other again. No, there was no need for limp excuses and flaky promises of commitment.

He had all the signs of a playboy. The exorbitant wine, the minibar in his bedroom, the way he got me into his bachelor pad and out of my panties the third time we spoke . . . it was clear I was just part of the long list of his accomplishments that he and his brothers used to compare dick sizes over bottles of five-thousand dollar booze. Read more »

Downing Abbey – Chapter 6

(Lucas)

Uneven whisks of heading-for-home traffic played in the background as we walked through the artsy alley, leaving the bar and the baggage that came with it behind. I had already paid the tab, and was not going to allow her another word about splitting the bill – both out of chivalry and practicality.

The brisk, windy night air rang the butterfly chimes overhung on a rustic, purposefully crooked café sign, and it was the perfect moment for me to warm her with a kiss. ‘Come here,’ I growled, grabbing her wrist and spinning her into me.

That shy smile didn’t escape my notice as I bit into her firm lip, releasing a naked moan that I inhaled with my ears. She was just putty, and it was obvious where this night was headed.

I couldn’t believe that his was the same woman that just minutes ago, was grabbing tissues from every table we passed on our way out to keep up with the tears. I was expecting to go into work tomorrow with bags under my eyes from consoling a crying client, and for a reason that I didn’t understand I was okay with that. Read more »

Downing Abbey – Chapter 5

(Abigail)

It was hard not to notice Luke’s palm rested so low on my back, his pinkie edging the line between back and butt. His free hand opened the door and he smiled before ushering me inside, and I had to assume we entered almost looking like a couple. A small smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth at the idea.

‘Christ Luke, are you sure we’re in a bar?’

The first thing I noticed was the smell, and this place didn’t smell like a bar. No hint of vomit or Axe undertone, instead, this place was all fresh leather and vanilla. The room was designed for mystery at the edges, with subdued wall lighting cupped by semi-opaque shades and massive leather booths that could swallow me up whole.

But my eyes were naturally drawn to the center of the room, the mingling station at the bar. Housed behind the counter was an eight-foot tall rack with rows and rows of assorted bottles and a gargantuan, crystal chandelier illuminated the entire island. Let me repeat. There was a fucking *chandelier* in the middle of this bar. Read more »

Downing Abbey – Chapter 4

(Lucas)

Eight long hours after a hurried lunch of a Subway BMT, the pile of Simco files seemed taller than when I began. I rubbed my temples and grunted. Steve finally brought me my cup of joe – though two months in and he still doesn’t know I don’t take cream – but it didn’t look promising for my plan to get home before sunset. Dropping my man-pride, I fumbled with my phone to send out an SOS, which didn’t get through the first ring before Chris picked up. ‘I have one minute. What is it?’

We nicknamed Chris “Captain America” because of his ability to lead and inability to stop working. He made sure that every task on the agenda got cleared, even if that meant running Jacob, Jillian, and I into the ground to do so. While Jacob brought amazing publicity for the firm and Jillian made sure everyone was on schedule, Chris was the right Brimstone at the helm.

‘I’m literally drowning here in Simco. Do you have anyone capable I could borrow?’ I moaned into the dead air. Read more »

Downing Abbey – Chapter 3

(Abigail)

At some point in every woman’s life, a man’s personality becomes more important than his looks. Whether it’s by choice or by circumstance, it’s the concept that still makes life-long unions possible, and what some consider true love. It signifies the kind of maturity that you and your partner benefit from for the rest of your lives.

And Lucas Brimstone made it glaringly obvious that I was not at that point yet.

I sat down beneath a declining willow, unpacking a familiar lunch of turkey and tomato between cut French baguette. While successful meetings normally would have left me on a mannerly high, I left that building craving my drawer of toys and a hot lawyer calendar. Preferably a Lucas Brimstone edition.

Lust was not a feeling I was familiar with, but one look at those linebacker shoulders and square jaw and I was lucky I didn’t need to go for a fresh panty run. He was one of those guys that I put into the shirt-optional category, and could definitely do with less of those pants. Read more »