Money, Power, Glory || Shawmila [Completed]

1. Family lunch

The moans that moments prior had filled the room had now subsided, and now the only sound that interrupted the silence was the one coming from some heavy breathing. Shawn laid in bed, his gaze fixed on a distant point in the ceiling, as he tried to catch his breath and slow down his heartbeat. A light silk sheet was all that covered his nudity, except for the warm, sweaty body that had curled up on him. Like every time he was in that situation, his mind had been short-circuited and for at least ten minutes it had been freed from all its thoughts. If the only way to unplug was to take to bed one of the many blondes that stretched at his feet, then he was nobody to object.

It was all too easy for him to periodically repeat his usual script: leave the house, enter some exclusive club, cast a few glances at the crowd on the floor, give some winking glances and... Bam! An hour later he found himself venting the tension accumulated during the week by rhythmically pushing his hips against the ones of a girl. Occasional sex had always been his personal remedy for stress, and he couldn't find a downside for that habit. What was wrong with meeting his needs with girls who were more than willing to help him? Before taking them with him to his apartment, he always made things clear: they could keep him company for a few hours, only if they had not demanded to stay beyond the established time. This way he wouldn't have to make up a hardly believable excuse to be left alone after ending the intimate meeting or having to face the cliché of embarrassing greetings the following morning.

The blonde's fingers at his side lazily drawn imaginary lines on his sculpted abdomen, and Shawn struggled to pretend it wasn't bothering him. He certainly couldn't kick the girl out right after he had been inside her, but asking her to go away, and stop snuggling up to him, seemed too rude even for someone like him. He would have consented to a maximum of half an hour for those stupid affectionate touches which the female gender was so obsessed with, and then he would break away from her and dress quickly. In that way the girl would realize that their time together had come to an end and she would leave his apartment as soon as possible.

But his patience had a limit, and if he was willing to put up with some caresses, he couldn't do the same about pillow talk. He spent his time with strangers to vent,  not to make friends or confide in someone! And he certainly didn't need to be told how that night of sex was the best the girl has ever had in her life, or how great Shawn had been. He already knew all of that! For this reason, when the blonde - whose name he had forgotten - started talking, he quickly moved away and decided to end earlier their meeting. The two dressed in silence and before leaving Shawn's room for good, the blonde said something that completely ruined what had until then been an acceptable encounter.

«After tonight, your father snap up the vote of another elector! ». She winked and walked out of the apartment, leaving behind her an unnerved and moody Shawn. How was it possible that his father tormented him even while he was screwing someone? What was he supposed to do to get rid of that man for at least one night? That harmless comment, probably said with good intentions, had completely eliminated the sense of relief he had felt after sleeping with the girl.

Shawn groaned and turned around on the sheets restlessly, until he surrendered to the idea that he wouldn't be able to sleep, so much so that was the irritation he was feeling. Still half-naked, he got out of bed and walked into the living room to appease his thoughts with something strong. He grabbed one of the scotch glasses laid on the furniture bar and poured a good amount of amber liquid, which he swallowed in a long sip without hesitation. His eyes rested on the bottle in front of him and his face twisted into a grimace, annoyed at the realization that it was one of the many showy and overpaid gifts given to him by his father.

The man's omnipresence sent him completely out of his mind and Shawn would swear that sooner or later he would collapse during a nervous breakdown in front of the whole family. His father had the ability to push his every button to madden him and still find a way to blame Shawn. After all, who dared to disagree with any detail that came out of Richard Mendes' mouth? Not his mother or sister, and certainly not Shawn. Over the years he had learned that it was much easier to imagine of insulting him than to try to make him reason on a subject that was not in line with his ideas. It had always been like that: Richard was the head of the family, the one who had the right and the duty to provide for it, and consequently also the person who had the last word on every decision that was made inside that house. Shawn had to set his mind to rest and accept the idea that his father would continue to call the shots for a long time to come.