Passion.

Chapter Seven

"Hello. I'm Claire. Claire Stone." I introduce myself to the tall, thin, brown haired blue eyed half-sister of mine. As I'm describing her in my head, I realize that she is what I am not. My mothers dream daughter. She's thin and beautiful. I try to compose my emotions, but I can't. I won't. Everyone always has the right to be selfish, with what they want with me physically, emotionally, and with what they want for themselves. I always keep my mouth shut, well not this time. "Mother, May I speak to you?" I say, very properly. "Yes, of course sweetie. Let's go into the bedroom." We both give a fake, loving smile and head into the room. "So this- this is what you wanted?" I ask, basically screaming. "What?" "Another daughter. One to make up for me. Oh this is good- perfect, actually. She'll be able to take my place so I don't have to deal with your bullshit!" I yell. "That's not why I brought her here!" She yells back. "Then why did you? Why?!" "Because I want you to have someone!" "What?" I ask, assuming she's starting to get sick. "I'm leaving." "What?" I say again. "I'm leaving. The truth is, there is a will. A will that states that everything belongs to you. You are the owner of this house, the owner of every car in this garage. There's also one hundred thousand dollars stored in a bank account that only you can open, I'll give you the information for that whenever you need it." Shock comes over me. She's being... honest. For once in her life, my mother is being honest. What made her say this? "What changed?" I ask. "Someone very important to you called me and let me know what would happen if I didn't tell you what I know. So, this is all yours. Everything is going to be taken away from me." She begins to cry. Then it hits me, it'll always be about materialistic things to her, never about me or family or love. She can have this house. It wasn't my home, it never will be, even if I am the owner. "So why are you crying? Why are you really crying?" I ask. "Because this is my life" she says, pointing to the surrounding furniture. "This. This is your life?" "Yes. This is who I am." My mother, choosing the money over her daughter, again. "You can keep the house Alexis. Keep it. I don't want your lavish lifestyle, and I definitely don't want to turn into you. But I will take dad's car, and I'm taking my money. Dad gave me this, so I can live how I want to. How I've dreamed of living. But please, if this, this furniture, this house, this lifestyle, if it makes you happy. If I'm not good enough for you, you can have it." And with those words, a smile falls upon her face. A grin, from cheek to cheek. That proves it for me, I don't want anything to do with her. But Demetria, she interests me. I'm curious about my half-sister, and what kind of life she leads. "Give me the information on the bank to withdraw from, and I'll be out of your way. For good." She does so, and I walk back into the living room. I write down my phone number, and hand it to Demetria on my way out. "I'm your sister, if you really want to get to know me, call me. Trust me, There's no reason to get to know her." With that, I leave. I go into my dads car and drive back to The Smith's house. As I'm driving, one simple sentence keeps replaying in my mind; "Someone very important to you called me and let me know what would happen if I didn't tell you everything I know." Who? There's only one person I confided in about this, David. Of course it would be him. For me to think Roan would do something this kind is stupid of me. First , I want to thank David for making that phone call. After that, I'll get the money dad left for me. But arriving and walking in, none of what I expected is happening. There's a ton of people here, stylists, makeup artists, hair stylists, this house has transformed into a salon. A girl with long Ginger colored hair walks up to me and says "Are you Claire Stone?" "Yes, that's me." I smile. "The Smith's have ordered for you to be dressed and styled by precisely 8pm. There's a dance you're going to, some sort of ball to be attended." Oh. A ball? "Let me discuss one thing with Roan and I'll be right back." I go to Roan's bedroom, and open the door, not thinking anything of it. I open it and see Roan. Roan, exposed, moving his hand over his length, admiring nothing but what his eyes see closed. He's touching himself, and it's making me feel things. I squeeze my legs together, and clear my throat. "Mhm." He stops his motion and looks to me. But he's not embarrassed, he's owning his independent pleasure. "I need to speak with you. Get dressed. Please." I say, practically begging, stopping myself from going over there and sitting on his lap. I close the door and stay outside for five minutes. He comes outside, clothed and professional, and says "What would you like to discuss Ms.Stone?" "First of all, stop calling me 'Ms.Stone. My name is Claire. Call me Claire." I demand. "Why has this house turned into a salon? What ball am I supposed to be attending?" "Okay, First off Ms.Stone, I will continue to call you whatever I want. Second of all, there's a ball, elegantly themed party we're attending, together." "With David I assume?" I say, asking him. "No. Only with me." "Why?" "Enough with the questions. Get ready." Ugh. He's so demanding. All the time. He just needs to relax. I'd love to say "he needs to get laid" but, he does that with me lately so, I don't know what to say. "Fine Mr.Serious." I say, walking away with attitude. When I turn away, I feel his hand grab me, and spin me towards him. He puts my body on his and says "Do you know what I was pleasuring myself to Claire?" I bite my lip. "Your hand." I joke. "You. I was picturing you. Your ass bent over me, as I pounded into you. When I brought you to the bed and made you orgasm, what, ten times?" I feel it. The sensation between my legs. "I pictured you running your nails down my back. Me coming into you over and over again, my putting my hands into you and watching you shrivel under my touch. That's all I will ever pleasure myself to. Since the moment I met you, I just can't seem to get enough." Nope. I'm not going down this sex trap again. I need to make Roan open up to me, and tonight that's what I plan to do. So, I pull away and say "I'll go get ready." I walk downstairs and am greeted by a lovely young man, who's very fiercely open and feministic. "I'm doing your hair!" He says. "I have the makeup!" The ginger haired lady says. "Okay. Since you're both working on me, what are your names?" "Lucas" "Kate" "Hi. I'm Claire." I smile. They start working on my face and hair and someone comes over with wine. Gosh I do love wine. Putting the sweet yet bitter red liquid to my lips, I taste it and appreciate this moment. It's nice being catered to, but I feel bad for these people. I'm sure they're being paid well, but I wonder if they've been catered to. If they've had the opportunity. I hope they have. I'm disrupted out of my wondering by "You have these dresses to choose from." I know that voice. David! I get up from my chair and my stylists all gasp as I've pulled away so quickly. I run up to him and he wraps his arms around me. "I've missed your arms." "Me too." "Thank you for everything you've done for me. Thank you for calling my mother." "I didn't call your mother." He says. "You didn't?" I ask, confused. "No. Did someone call her?" "No, just a mix up." Roan. Roan called her. I knew he had a good part. "Well thank you for all you've done." I sit back down in my chair and they start doodling on my face and hair again. "These dresses are so beautiful." I say, admiring it. One is long, sleeveless, a burgundy color with a mermaid shape at the bottom. Another is black, straight, fitting, and can show off my curves properly. One is purple, dazzling and a little extreme with the ruffles. Another blush pink, elegant and innocent. I know which one I'm going to pick, but I want Roan and David to be surprised, so I tell them to go away.
After three hours of prepping my hair, face, and outfit, I'm ready. My hair is lightly curled, with a godly scent and a beautiful wave. My lips are painted a dark red color, my eyes shadowed with light nude, and my cheeks highlighted and blushed with beauty. I put on the black dress, and black heels, and look in the mirror. Wow. I look stunning. That's the first time I've ever said that, but I do. I have shape to my body, curves in all the right places, and I feel like a goddess. I go into the bathroom to adjust myself and just to smile. Even if not all things are going how I planned, there's always room to smile. I walk outside and see Roan and David. They both look amazing, but tonight, Roan has caught my eye.
Roan's POV:
She walks out of the restroom, and she's glowing. Her lips plump, her cheeks shining, her body, stunning. That dress, it wouldn't look that good on anyone else but her. There's a lightness to her, there always is but this time it's different. She's confident, and she has passion shining from within. She looks like a goddess. No, she is a goddess. It's not the hair laying so perfectly upon her shoulders, it's not the colors painted onto her skin, it's not the dress, it's her. The dress only fits the woman, if the woman makes the dress. And she owns it. She's angelic, truly heavenly. I don't want to fuck her. I want to make love to her. I want to take her as mine. Truthfully, I don't want to share her with David. But that is how this works. So no one gets hurt. So the rules aren't broken. So all goes as planned. But fuck it, tonight, I don't care. The rules could go out the window. I want her. I need her.
Claire's POV:
He's admiring me,- and for once, he smiles. A real smile. A genuine smile. One that could make me fall in love.