Temptation of my Father-in-Law

The opulent event hall, adorned with crystal chandeliers and walls dressed in silk drapes, emanated an air of lavish celebration. Laughter and music filled the space, weaving an illusion of joy that danced around Grace but couldn't penetrate the growing dread festering within her. The sparkle of her engagement ring felt like a chain, binding her to a future that now lay in ruins. Grace stumbled out into the crisp night air, her cheeks flushed with betrayal. The cool breeze offered no solace; it whispered the harsh reality of her fiancee’s infidelity against her skin, leaving her gasping for breath in a world that had suddenly turned alien and hostile. The weight of the engagement ring on her hand mirrored the heaviness in her heart. It symbolized a future meticulously planned, a dream carefully woven that had now unraveled, exposing the raw wounds of deceit. Grayson, her fiancé, and her first love, had severed the delicate threads of trust that held their relationship together. As she hailed a cab, Grace uttered in a trembling voice, "The Silver Moon Club." Her words were barely a whisper, an acknowledgment of the darkness that lurked in the corners of her mind. The Silver Moon Club welcomed her with pulsating rhythms and vibrant lights, a stark contrast to the shadows that now engulfed her. The bar was her refuge; she ordered a drink, hoping the bitter liquid would wash away the agony threatening to consume her. Grace stood at the end of the bar, her gaze fixated on her drink. The truth was playing in her head like a failed tap recorder. The girls had a few too many to drink. Grace’s maid of honor was her best friend Charlotte and two of her college friends and Grayson’s sister, Olivia were bridesmaids. Emily, one of Grace’s friends, had a few too many to drink. “Grace,” Emily sat beside the bride and wrapped her hands around her shoulder. “You are really strong, girl.” Her voice was slurred. Grace just smiled, not fully understanding the meaning behind Emily’s words. “I mean I understand, he is a Kennedy and sometimes, we women have to turn a blind eye but this near to the wedding…” “Enough Emily, whiskey sours are getting to your head.” Olivia tried to pull Emily, but Grace frowned. “What are you talking about?” Grace’s gut feelings were making her sick. “Oh come on, Grace don’t act so innocent. Everybody knows about Gray and Alia, they spent the last weekend in LA…” Emily continued but Grace went into a haze where everything was distorted. She couldn’t hear or see anything. The trip was supposed to be Grayson’s last business trip before their wedding. Grace looked up to see Charlotte with a furious expression, she was ready to avenge her best friend whereas Olivia looked at Grace with a guilty expression. “You knew?” Grace whispered. “Grace, I am sorry but I promise Grayson won’t ever…” Grace didn’t stay to listen to any of her excuses for her brother. Grace shook her head and downed her tequila. Grace has her own reservations about the wedding but she remains respectful and loyal for the sake of old times. Her eyes scanned the room, seeking an escape from her torment. In the dimly lit corner, a man sat, brooding and enigmatic, nursing a glass of whiskey at another end of the bar. His features seemed oddly familiar, etched in her memory like an enigmatic puzzle waiting to be solved. Everyone in the club was on the dance floor now and only Grace and the brooding man remained behind in the bar. Grace decided to join the crowd on the floor but a force she couldn't quite comprehend propelled Grace toward him. With hesitant steps, she approached the stranger, slipping off her engagement ring and placing it in her bag. It was a symbol of love tarnished and broken, no longer a burden she wished to carry. "Mind if I join you?" she asked, her voice laced with vulnerability, unlike her usual graceful self. The man looked up, his piercing eyes meeting hers. He studied her for a moment as if searching for the truth hidden in the depths of her soul. "Of course," he replied, a hint of intrigue in his gaze. He seemed like a man who was used to approaching him but she couldn’t help it, she was desperate to escape the betrayal. He stood there, a paragon of mature allure, defying the passage of time with an effortless grace that seemed almost unfair. His face bore the distinguished marks of wisdom and experience, etched into a visage that seemed to have been sculpted by an artist's skilled hand. His hair, dark with brown mixed in it, was styled in a manner that exuded a refined charm. Each strand seemed to shimmer in the light, catching the glint of the sun or the soft glow of ambient lights, imparting a hint of silver to his dark locks. The gentle waves of his hair brushed across his forehead and lightly kissed the nape of his neck, lending him an air of casual sophistication. His eyes were a captivating shade of hazel, deep and expressive. They held stories untold, a testament to a life lived fully and with a sense of purpose. The lines on his face were like a roadmap of experiences, tracing the corners of his eyes and the edges of his smile. Crow's feet gently cradled his eyes, evidence of laughter shared and moments cherished. The strong jawline and a well-groomed beard only added to the charisma that exuded from him. His physique was commanding, maintaining the vitality of youth while embodying the assurance of maturity. Broad shoulders and a tall, lean frame stood with a confidence that made heads turn. He moved with a purpose, each step radiating a subtle magnetism that drew people towards him. His attire was impeccable, a blend of contemporary style and timeless elegance. The choice of clothing accentuated his features, revealing a taste for refined fashion. The tailored suit embraced his frame, the fabric draping flawlessly, a testament to his attention to detail and love for sophistication. And when he spoke, with just one word, his voice resonated with a captivating depth and resonance, commanding attention and weaving a symphony of words that resonated with both intellect and charm. It was the voice of experience and kindness, a voice that could melt hearts and evoke admiration from anyone lucky enough to listen. While Grace took her time to observe the man, he took a moment to sweep his eyes from her eyes to her feet, his gaze fixated a second longer on her finger that held her engagement ring a second ago. Grace turned around in her chair, about to order another drink. Before she could say anything, the man ordered both of them. Another whiskey for him and tequila for her. He took a look at his watch, “Isn’t it a little late to start drinking now?” His silky, deep voice hit her directly at the places that had business being this affected. “How do you know that I am just starting to drink?” “Judging by your clarity of speech and the way you are downing the shots!” He said simply, sipping his own whiskey. “Rough night?” He wanted it to sound like a question but it came out in the form of a statement. “Something like that…” Grace is so used to keeping things to herself, that she has a very hard time confiding in anyone even her best friends, let alone a stranger. It seemed like the man understood she needed some space so he didn’t say anything afterward. They both nursed their drink in silence. The man stepped down from the stool and was about to grab his jacket from the back of the chair. Grace jerked up and understood he was about to leave. “You are leaving?” Her whisper had a plea in it. The stranger looked at her with curiosity, his eyes lacked any kind of judgment. “Would you like me to stay, love?” Grace was shocked by the question, what was she doing? She wasn’t Grayson, she doesn’t cheat but this didn’t seem wrong. Grace slowly nodded her head. “What will I get if I stay?” His voice lacked any malice and he genuinely wanted a reward without any ulterior motives. “What would you like?” “Your name, love.” Thinking for just a second, Grace replied, “Elizabeth,” She gave him her middle name. Despite Grayson’s act, she was connected to the Kennedy family, she can’t risk her image. “Elizabeth,” He whispered as if tasting her name. He sat back down. “Don’t I get to know yours?” The tequila had started to work. “Maxon.” They exchanged words, their conversation guided by an unspoken understanding. The stranger offered solace, a fleeting escape from the suffocating reality of her life, and she found herself drawn to the warmth of his presence. The night was unfolding with new experiences, and wonderful conversations that were keeping her mind from the betrayal. “Would you like to talk about what brought you here?” Maxon asked hesitantly. “I would ask the same of you.” “My office is 5 minutes from her, after work I like to hit the bar.” “You work this late?” “Work is my life, Elizabeth.” “That’s sad.” Grace sipped her cosmopolitan, the mixing of drinks had made her loose-tongued. “When the stench of disrespect, and betrayal becomes too much, you need to escape. This is my escape.” Grace looked up at Maxon. “He is an i***t,” Grace chuckled at his statement. Her attention was held by two girls entering the club, Olivia’s blonde hair standing out in the crowd. No, no, she wasn’t ready to go back. She wanted this freedom to last a little longer. Grace put her hand on Maxon’s. “Do you want to get out of here?” She asked with hesitation. Maxon followed her eyeline and before he could see anyone, Grace was on her feet. “Let’s go!” He held her wrist and pulled her along from the backdoor. They walked in silence and within a couple of minutes they got to Maxon’s condo. “We don’t have to do anything. I know you wanted to escape from someone, I will show you the guest room. Go to sleep, it has been a long day for you.” Grace didn’t let him complete, she got on her tiptoe and slowly put her lips on him. She hasn’t kissed anyone but Grayson in her life and she was a little nervous due to Maxon’s personality. He held her nape with a little force and pressed his lips on her. “Are you sure?” He murmured against her lips. She nodded her head. “I want words, love.” “Take me, Maxon!” Maxon didn’t need to hear anymore. He grabbed her ass in his hands and picked her up. She unlocks her legs and straddles him, their lips never breaking contact. Hot and sweet, and she teases him with that tongue—flicking and brushing in ways that drive me insane. He carried her up the stairs, opened the door, and dropped her on the bed. He brushed the hair out of her face as she grind on him, and they held each other’s eyes. Dammit. “What did you see in me, Love?” He asked, shaking my head. Grace understood the meaning behind his question. She hasn’t failed to notice his age. She sank into his mouth, kissing him long and deep, as he wrapped an arm around her body and pressed her into him. Curling his fingers around the silk at her hip, she felt an urge to feel him inside her. He kissed her neck, sucking and nibbling all the way up to her chin and running his thumbs over her hard little n*****s. “Maxon…” she pleaded. “You…” She was breathing hard, with his hands all over her body. “Your hazel eyes captivated me.” “God, you’re so sweet,” he says under his breath. “Tell me what you want Elizabeth,” She drops her eyes, staring at his lips. “Um…” “You, in every way possible.” And that was enough for Maxon, and as the night unfolded into dawn, Grace found herself entangled in the sheets with Maxon in every possible position without any break. He was full of virility, he could challenge a guy in his 20s without sweating even a bit In that fleeting moment, the ache in her heart dulled, replaced by a different kind of connection, and satisfaction she hadn’t felt ever before….. Morning broke, and Grace awoke to the reality of her choices, her head pounding from the remnants of the night's escapade. The stranger lay beside her, peacefully asleep. Her eyes softened at the peaceful expression on Maxon’s face. His right arm was draped over the pillow and his tattoos were on full display. She was about to graze it when the vibration of her phone brought her back to reality. She took a moment to reflect, grappling with her emotions, torn between remorse and a strange sense of liberation. Despite the conflicting feelings, she had to make a resolute decision - whether she would go ahead with the wedding or not. At that moment, she felt the weight of a decision pressing against her chest, suffocating her. Can she really put this indiscretion behind her and commit to the life she had carefully planned? A life that promised security, even if it lacked the fervor of true love….