The Entitled Read online

  Copyright © 2018

  THE ENTITLED by Cassandra Robbins

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or scanned, in any manner without written permission of the author, except in the need of quotes for reviews only.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and establishments are the product of the author’s imagination or are used to provide authenticity and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Edited: Nikki Busch Editing

  Cover design: Michele Catalano Creative

  Formatting: Elaine York, Allusion Graphics, LLC

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Connect with Cassandra Robbins

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  For my mother

  Ob•ses•sion

  the domination of one’s thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc.

  And in the end, we were all just humans,

  drunk on the idea that love,

  only love, could heal our brokenness.

  — F. Scott Fitzgerald

  REED

  Present day – twenty-five years old

  London, England

  “Deeper… Yeah… that’s it, suck me hard.” Leaning my head back, I close my eyes. It’s too bright for me. I should have made her turn off the lights. The warm mouth that’s sucking makes me moan, distracting me. The woman squirms, her hands reaching for my tight balls. She definitely knows how to suck my cock. If I could keep her from talking, we would have a perfect relationship.

  The fantasy that I need, crave, is there, waiting for me. Grabbing the back of her head, I shove myself down her throat.

  “Yeah, that’s it, suck… like that,” I growl at her.

  I’m way too large for her to take me comfortably. Roughly I hold her head, watching her brown eyes widen as she starts to gag. Staring at her, I wonder why women allow me to do this. I almost ask her, but that would require her to speak. She tries again to deep throat me, working her hardest to accommodate my size. My stomach muscles clench. Her smell fills my nose: arousal and flowers. Why does every woman wear so much perfume? Except one… one didn’t. Vanilla. That’s what I desperately need to smell. I should have lit some candles. It would have helped me, soothed me. Aggravated at the thought, I pull her even tighter.

  “Fuck yeah, that’s it. Breathe through your nose.” Mascara and tears cover her cheeks, her nostrils flaring. Taking pity on her, I release her head. She sucks in air with a small gasp. Like a cat in heat, she frantically grabs at me. A smile is on her lips like she is pleased with herself. Scooting forward, she pumps my cock from root to tip, then spits the thick saliva that comes from the back of her throat, making it easier for her to stroke me. Starting slow, then almost savagely, she goes at it.

  Pleasure fills me, taking me to that place. “I like that.” Grunting, I lean my head back and my eyes close, blocking out all noise, everything but her. My fantasy, my soul, my greatest regret.

  She starts to suck me again, and in my mind, I see her. Beautiful blue eyes stare up at me. Black long lashes sweep down, her brown hair like silk in my hands. Up and down, she sucks and strokes, fuck if only… If only.

  “Like that baby?”

  What the fuck? Her voice startles me back to the present.

  My eyes snap open, the precious fantasy gone as I blink at the lights in my penthouse, reminding me where I am.

  “Fuck.” Roughly I pull her mouth off me with a loud pop. She reaches for my cock like I stole her lollipop. Grabbing her hair, holding her still, I give her a firm jerk, my desire to get off gone. Somewhat hurt, she whimpers, licking her lips, her brown eyes questioning.

  My phone rings again. Absently my eyes drift to where I left it charging on the counter.

  “I asked you not to talk. It shouldn’t be that hard if you kept my cock in your mouth.”

  “Sorry, you’re right.” She whines, “Can I try again?” Her swollen lips almost make her look deformed with the amount of collagen she has pumped into them.

  Pulling my pants up, I tuck my dick back in as she watches like an adoring, defeated puppy.

  I shake my head. “Lay off the injections. You’re starting to look like a duck.”

  Moving her aside, I stand to retrieve my cell phone but still flinch when it rings again. It’s probably a robocall. I grimace, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling.

  “But… I thought you liked a girl with big lips?”

  Her question makes me freeze, and I turn toward her. “Why would you think that?”

  She shrugs. “You mentioned it once, saying you had a thing for puffy lips.” Looking over at the counter, I can’t resist moving toward my phone. My glass penthouse, with its unending view of the stone-gray Thames, is cavernous and sparsely furnished. To a stranger, it would appear I recently moved in. Not that it matters; I’ve been here almost a year. But with the apartment’s emptiness, every sound echoes off the white, unadorned walls.

  “You must have misunderstood. I loathe fake lips,” I say, needing to shut her down. Her eyes narrow as though she’s deciding if she believes me. Shaking her long blond hair, she runs her hands through it. My eyes take in her appearance. She is every man’s dream: fake boobs and a tan, fit body. Yet I don’t want her no matter how hard I try.

  She can’t understand my need to be cruel. After all, it’s not her fault I’m miserable, and fuck it, she looks absurd. Someone needs to tell her. “They’re too big, Victoria. Also, I don’t like your perfume. Please change it to something else.”

  Removing the charger, I glance at my phone. Three missed calls. My heart pounds.

  Frowning at the screen, I say, “It’s late. Get dressed, and I’ll have my driver take you home.”

  “You okay?” She tries to touch my arm. Christ, when did she become so clingy? Pulling away from her, I walk into the other room. As I close my tired stinging eyes for a moment, I take a breath and brace myself for what’s about to come—my past, threatening to take me over.

  Pressing my finger on my brother’s name, I glance at Victoria, relieved that she’s dressed now. I’ll need to be alone for this call, and I want to be sure she’s on her way out.

  Waiting for Jax to answer, my mind drifts to the last time I saw my twin.

  “Don’t do this, Reed. Give her time—just give her time,” he’d begged me. If only I had waited. If only.

  “Reed.” Jax’s voice fills my head. I miss him. My eyes dart around
my empty space while I try to compose my voice.

  “Reed? You there?” Shit, it’s bad. I can sense it through the wire.

  “Yeah, I’m here…”

  The ominous silence over the phone makes my skin prickle. Glancing down at my Rolex, it’s 3:00 a.m. London time. Panic grips my chest… Tess!

  No matter how many years go by, that’s my first thought whenever a 212 area code shows up on my phone. Jax clears his throat.

  Fuck! The past, it’s like a python slowly choking me.

  “Reed… sorry, I know its early.” My brother sounds tired.

  “What’s wrong?” I demand.

  “It’s Grandfather Ian. He had a massive heart attack yesterday and didn’t make it. You need to come home.”

  Guilt takes over as I puff out the air I didn’t know I was holding.

  The relief that this call has nothing to do with Tess makes me sink into the chair. Jesus, I truly am a shit.

  “How’s Dad holding up?” It’s all I can think to say.

  “I think everyone is in shock. One minute, Grandpa was laughing with a drink in his hand. The next, he’s dead.”

  “I’ll take the G5 Jet. Be there in ten hours or so.”

  A hand caresses my hair, startling me. Victoria leans close, her perfume almost choking me. “Should I pack too?”

  How did I forget she was still here? The past! That’s how. All my mistakes have conspired against me, dragging me back to my life before I became a monster.

  Jax clears his throat again. “Should I warn everyone you’re bringing someone?”

  “No.” My voice is harsh. “It will just be me.”

  “Good.” Silence fills the phone. I should hang up, but I wait as if Jax is going to say something that will make it all better. Make me better!

  “I miss you, man. Everyone does.”

  Staring numbly at my blank walls, I say softly, “Me too, brother, me too.”

  REED

  Past – eight years old

  New York, NY

  “Boys? Come downstairs. They’re here!” my mother yells from the bottom of the stairs. When I glance at Jax, he rolls his eyes.

  “Keep going,” I urge.

  “Working on it.” He frowns at the computer screen. We’re in Jax’s room since his computer is better than mine.

  Clenching my fist, I shift from one foot to the other. “Come on. She’s going to yell at us to come meet that stupid girl.”

  “Don’t rush me. I have no idea what Dad’s password is. It takes time,” he says with a hiss.

  “What takes time, boys?” I jump and turn to stare at my dad’s green eyes. They’re filled with suspicion.

  “Nothing.” I shrug, trying to play it casual.

  “What are you two doing?” His face tightens as he stares at the screen. Thankfully, Jax has put on some educational stuff. He’s a computer whiz. I smirk. Figures, he’d be ahead of Dad.

  “It’s for school,” is all Jax says. I hold my breath.

  Frowning at us, Dad says, “I don’t know what you two are up to, but your mother’s childhood friend is here with her husband and daughter.”

  Crossing his arms, he looks at us pointedly. “We expect you both to be kind and take her under your wing. She is the same age as you two and will be starting at your school in a couple of weeks.”

  Groaning, I say, “We know, Dad. Mom has been talking about this for a month.”

  “Good, come on then.” He still eyes the computer screen, then gazes around the room.

  Jax’s room is super clean compared to mine. All his games, cars, planes, Legos, and marbles are put away in their proper place. Greens with greens, reds with reds. His need for order drives me crazy.

  Although, he does have a bunch of Pokémon cards on the dresser. And a few of them have even fallen onto his thick blue rug.

  My room is so much cooler. Our mom decorated both of ours the same way. But unlike Jax, I leave all my Legos out. I mean, it takes forever to put them together. Why tear them apart, right?

  Plus, it’s super fun and easy to make a mess, knowing someone will always clean it up for you.

  Both of us start toward the door, but a warm hand on my shoulder stops me.

  “Go ahead, Jax. I need to talk to Reed for a moment.” My brother’s blue eyes meet mine and he shifts his gaze to our dad.

  Jax shrugs but leaves. I wiggle my shoulder free, already tuning out what I’m sure will be a long lecture. I look over at Spiderman, who’s painted on one wall. Mom hated it as it didn’t fit with her color scheme. I think it’s cool. Spidey is swinging from a web like he is coming right at you. In my room, I have the Hulk smashing out of my wall. Hulk would kick Spidey’s butt even with all of Spiderman’s special powers.

  “Reed Saddington!” I swing my gaze to my dad, who is shaking his head. “What are you doing, son? Are you even listening to anything I’ve said?”

  “Sorry.” No way am I admitting I wasn’t paying attention. It’s not my fault that Spiderman and the Hulk are way more interesting. Silence greets me. At last, I risk a look: he is standing with his feet apart and arms crossed.

  “What? I thought we needed to hurry and meet the special girl,” I taunt.

  “Reed, for the second time, what do you have Jax doing on the computer?” He leans over to pick up the cards on the floor.

  “I knew it,” I say with a snort. “It’s always me, right? Jax is perfect.” I know full well that is not the way my parents feel, but it always throws them off when I say it.

  ”No, that is not what I said. Jax is far from perfect, but he would rather eat garbage than rat you out.”

  That makes me laugh. “Eat garbage, that’s a good one, Dad.” I slap my knee, trying to get him to smile.

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny, son.” He glares at me. “I know you two are smart. But you’re only eight, so if you guys need help with something, I hope you know that you can come to me.”

  “What fun would that be?” I mumble.

  “What was that, Reed? You’re still a little boy, who—”

  “Dad, I have to pee, and we don’t want to keep Mom waiting. Honestly… all Jax and I were doing was checking out a science site.” My eyes lock with his. “Geez, you are always thinking we are doing bad things.” Hopping on one leg, I act like I have to go.

  My dad’s eyes narrow on me. “Fine, go to the bathroom and go meet your mom’s friend.”

  “Finally,” I say, running into my bathroom.

  “Remember to be nice to Tess, Reed.” His voice is serious.

  I barely hear the last part as I slam the door shut. I take a deep breath. That was close. Jax and I should know better. We were trying to get into our dad’s passwords, so we could turn off the parental control and get access to the whole internet. Jax assures me he can do it, and I believe him. He’s better at the computer than anyone. Looking down at the toilet, I’m amazed at how much pee is coming out. I had no idea I had to go.

  Quickly, I make my way downstairs. Turning the corner, I run right into the skinniest woman I have ever seen.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, trying to get around her, but her clawlike hands grasp my shoulders.

  “Caroline,” she yells. “I found your other boy.”

  Obviously, this is my mother’s friend. She’s tall and has crazy blond hair. Her face is so thin, her lips look like big pink bubble gum balls. I’m not kidding—her lips take over her face. Wriggling out of her grasp, I try to go around her. After all, she looks scary, kind of like Olive Oyl, Popeye’s girlfriend, but with blond hair and weird lips.

  “Excuse me,” I say, trying to be polite. My mom will freak if I’m not.

  She grabs my chin and screams, “How are you going to keep the girls away? My God! Caroline! Your boys are gorgeous.”

  Thankfully my mother comes around the corner, laughing, carrying two large glasses of wine.

  “Claire, you’re the one who has to worry. Tess is exquisite.” She gives Olive Oyl a wink.

&n
bsp; “Lucky for you my boys will take care of her like she was their own, right Reed?”

  “Ah… yeah, Mom.”

  “That would be nice. She seems to have problems making friends,” Olive Oyl mumbles as she drags me into our vast living room. I turn and my mom smiles as she follows.

  “Poor Tess. Well, she doesn’t have to worry anymore, right Reed?”

  “Ah, yeah, Mrs.… um… Mom, what’s her name again?”

  They both laugh, “Call me Auntie Claire.” She lets go of my arm to tap my nose. “God, it’s good to be back on the East Coast again. California is so fake.” She sighs dramatically.

  My mom hands her a wineglass. “To my best friend, coming home at last.” They clink their glasses together. I use the clinking to move around them and spy my twin sitting next to a girl with lots of dark curls. Both of their heads are together. He’s showing her one of our new Game Boys.

  “Hey.” I walk over.

  “Hey,” Jax responds, not lifting his head.

  “Hi.” The girl looks up. I almost stop breathing as I stare at the most beautiful face I have ever seen. Shyly, she stands. She’s dressed in a bright pink dress that makes her look like she is ready to go out to dinner with my parents. I take another breath as I stare at the most incredible blue eyes. They look like the ocean. Shaking my head, I think, this girl cannot be from the skinny blond woman who is giggling with my mom. She is literally her polar opposite. Her mother has a long pointy nose; this girl has a small cute nose. Her mother’s eyes are a dull blue. The girl’s vibrant blue eyes turn up at the ends. Cat eyes. She’s like a magnificent scared kitten. In fact, that’s what I am going to call her: Kitten. Thank goodness her lips are normal. Well, they are puffy, but at least she doesn’t look scary.

  “Son? You okay?” My dad interrupts my fascination with the girl.

  “Sure.” I step closer to her. She smells like strawberry lip balm.

  “I’m Reed,” I say, flashing her a grin, showing off my dimples. Mom says girls like dimples. Lucky for my identical twin brother and me, we have them.

  Jax realizes the girl is no longer paying attention to him and looks up at us. An evil grin escapes his lips as he stands up so I can sit down.