by Dylan Allen
I glance down at my daughter. “You feel okay, babe?” I ask.
She nods and smiles. “You look too beautiful to stay home,” she urges.
“Okay.” I shoot them both a nervous grin.
“You can’t wear that,” my mother says, eyeing my dress with deep disapproval.
“Why not?” I smooth my hands down the length of my black sequined sheath dress with a mermaid style train that trails behind me.
“Because it’s something anyone would wear.” She eyes me with displeasure.
I wrinkle my brow in confusion. “That’s the point.” It’s bad enough that Stone’s dating the most notorious adulteress in Houston. I don’t want to cause any more of a stir tonight than my mere presence will. It would be nice to make a good impression on the people Stone respects so much.
My mother mimics my confused look and then rolls her eyes in exasperation. “He didn’t fall in love with just anyone. He didn’t invite you so just anyone would show up. He asked you. You should go.”
The truth about my father coming out, seems to have liberated my mother. She’s not a whole new person, but she’s definitely a whole new kind of parent.
“Okay, I’ll change,” I say, and she starts tugging my zipper down and follows me to the closet.
Ten minutes later, with both their stamps of approval, I’m on my way.
“Mom,” Eva calls after me, as I hustle down the stairs. I look up and our eyes meet. “Be happy.” She grins and gives me a thumbs up.
With those words beneath my wings, I go get my man.
Scarlet
Stone
“Holy Mother of God, you do not deserve all of that.” Dare nudges me. I look up from the email I’m drafting under the cover of the tablecloth.
“Huh?” He’s staring, with rapt attention across the room. Bewildered, I glance at Beau, and find his attention focused in the same direction. In fact, everyone at our table is looking at something and whatever it is, it’s making Hayes’ jaw clench furiously.
I follow their gaze and then, I understand.
It’s Regan. The man she’s speaking with points in my direction and she looks up sharply. The distress on her face vanishes and is instantly replaced with a smile that speaks of complete satisfaction. When she steps onto the crowded dance floor, a path clears for her.
She’s stunning and the meaning of what she’s wearing isn’t lost on me for a single second. Her dress is a scarlet satin with a neckline that plunges to her navel where it knots in a bow before falling all the way to the floor in a curve hugging sea of fabric that shimmers with every step she takes.
Her hair is pin straight and is scraped back and caught into one long ponytail that I know is going to wrap nice around my fist later.
Her heart-shaped mouth is painted the same siren red as her dress and the smile that lifts the corners of it grows wider with every step she takes.
As she passes them, I notice people’s eyes moving to, and lingering on, her back.
Her gaze is locked on me. Her eyes alight with an emotion that no one can misread. She is the tip of Cupid’s arrow moving toward her target. I stand, wanting to make sure it’s my heart she pierces.
When she texted to say she couldn’t come because of Eva, I’d understood. Yet, disappointed didn’t begin to describe how I felt.
But here she is, walking toward me, looking for all the world like a woman in love. I start toward her but Hayes’ hand on my shoulder stops me. I turn toward him, braced for whatever he’s about to say. Even though he did everything I asked of him, he and Regan haven’t had a détente yet.
“Give me a chance,” he says when he sees my wary, impatient expression.
“Hurry,” I bite out.
“I’m sorry I stood in your way and asked you to give up, what is evident from that smile on her face. You’re the smartest, hardest-working man I know, Stone. And if you get any shit for this. I’ll help you. Just--"
“Glad you see the light, brother,” I cut him off. “But can you save it for later?”
He grins and I turn around just in time to take two steps and close the gap between us. I reach for her, wrap my arms around her waist, and her arms slide up my neck. I encounter bare skin when I lay my hands on the small of her back. No wonder everyone is staring. Her tattoo is on display.
“Hi,” I whisper and lean down to drop a kiss on her mouth. She presses her body into mine and I growl into her mouth. But I break our kiss.
“Surprise.” She gazes at me.
“Indeed. Come on, let’s sit.” I take her hands and we walk back to the table I’m sharing with my brother, my advisor and his family. We make introductions and I can’t stifle my chuckle at the look of surprise on Regan’s face when Hayes stands to pull out her chair. Hayes has always been great at pivoting. But this has got to be a record. Maybe fatherhood has mellowed him out, or maybe he really can see how much I love her, but either way, I’m glad.
She joins us at the table, and I introduce her to everyone she doesn’t know. Confidence squeals and jumps up to wrap her arms around her neck, Regan laughs out loud and hugs her back.
It’s an amazing evening. She shines brighter than anyone else in the room. We dance all night, except for the one that Hayes cut in for. Dancing is also something he never does. They didn’t hug when they were done, but they were both smiling when they came back to the table.
On our way out, we stop to use the Photo Booth and we create our infamous pose - the kiss, my hands palming her luscious little ass, my mouth devouring hers. The Jezebel tattoo is clear as day and this time, we make sure that my face is, too.
On our way home, I post it to my IG feed with the captions. “Call her Jezebel if you’d like, as long as you also call her mine. #Thosearemyfuckinghands.”
Later than night, Regan shares my post in her story, and she captions it, “This is us—Wicked, Wanton, Wild and really fucking happy.”
Mine
Regan
We take our time coming up the stairs. Stopping every few steps to kiss, or nibble, or stroke and when we finally reach the landing, I am in a frenzy of need.
I grab his tie and tug him back until I hit the wall. “Woah,” he chuckles, his breath warm on my lips before I take his mouth with mine. His mouth is hot and slick from our marathon of kissing, and I groan at the slide of his tongue back into mine. I pull at this suit jacket and he lets go of me long enough to shrug it off.
“Yes, take off all these stupid clothes, right now,” I command and turn my attention to the waist of his pants.
He grabs my hands, pulls them away and suddenly the warm weight of his body on mine is gone. My eyes snap open.
“Don’t move, I’ll be right back,” he calls, his hand slipping from mine for the first time since we left the fundraiser.
“Where are you going?” I ask as the top of his head disappears. He doesn’t answer me. Frowning, I peer over the banister frowning when only the sounds of retreating footfalls greet me. And then, my smile makes a miraculous recovery as my gaze sweeps up the staircase. After our make out session on the way up, I’ll never look at a staircase the same way.
I turn to take in the room that takes up the entire top floor of his townhouse. The floor is covered in the gleaming blond hardwood. The windowless walls are white and bare. The ceiling has a huge tray in the center. The walls are completely bare. There’s no art, no bookshelves, in fact there’s only one piece of furniture in the entire space.
Right in the center of the room, directly beneath the tray ceiling, is the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. Draped in a simple white comforter and dressed with a mountain of plain white pillows it sits right below the center of the opening the ceiling. I rush toward it like a shipwreck survivor would swim toward land and dive on, landing on my back in the middle and all the air leaves my lungs. The tray is a window, opening up to the dazzlingly dark, diamond crusted night sky. The pane of glass set into it so clear, that from here, it’s like having an unobstructed view of the heavens. I can�
��t believe this is what he falls asleep to every night.
I can’t believe I’m going to fall asleep here, tonight.
“What do you think?” Stone asks and I sit up to find him standing at the top of the stairs, a bottle of champagne in one hand and two long stem champagne glasses dangling from the fingers of the other. He’s been kind enough to take off his shirt and unfasten his black tuxedo trousers.
His hair is disheveled from my marauding hands and his full lips are swollen from my avaricious mouth, and his eyes burning with a fire that burns hotter than any obstacle ever could. He looks like a fallen angel. And he’s all mine.
“I think… I’m in love,” I drawl and come up on my knees. I move toward the edge of the bed, my arms outstretched. He puts the glasses down and walks to me, uncorking the champagne as he approaches, the smile on his face that of a man coming to claim his hard-earned bounty.
“Open up, Goddess,” he growls, lifts the bottle to my lips and pours the cold, fizzy liquid into my mouth. I swallow what I can, but his generous pour spills down my chin and trails down my neck, seeping into the bodice of my dress.
“I’m going to take that thing off with my teeth,” he promises, taking a swig of the champagne and then slamming his lips against mine, wraps an arm around my waist, and pulls me to him until our bodies are flush with each other.
I gasp when a fat drop of champagne lands on my shoulder and spills down my back in icy rivulets. Another lands on my chest and I lurch away from the cold.
“Ah, ah,” Stone’s arm tightens his hold on me, and his other hand, unburdened by the champagne bottle, slides around the back of my neck. He presses his lips to the tender spot where my neck meets my shoulder. Then he opens his mouth to lick and suck.
My body is burning from the inside out, my head falls back as I succumb to the rapture his mouth is unleashing.
“I want this dress off,” I pant, made desperate by the scrape of his teeth against my throat.
“Not as much as I do,” he growls and then the world blurs and when I can see straight again, I’m on my stomach and his big hands are planted on either side of my head and his big body casts a shadow over us as he straddles my hips, his knees pressing into the mattress.
“What are you doing?” Anticipation makes my voice husky and low.
“Making you mine and taking my time,” he says and then his lips are on my skin. He charts a course of soft kisses and small licks down the center of my back, moving his body lower, too. Between each touch, he whispers, “Mine.” I lay completely still, my heart thundering as I freefall into love, moving a million miles an hour toward its final frontier…on a journey that will never end. And there’s no fear, or doubt – just joy and transformation.
“My Jezebel,” he says the name with all the love it was never intended to engender. “I’m so proud of you. And I love you so much.” He skims the tattoo with the lightest of kisses and then, his lips move lower.
And ever a man of his word, Stone pulls my zipper down with his teeth. He spreads the fabric, tugs it off my body, and flings it away. I’m completely naked underneath it. He palms my ass, his fingers gripping hard and spreads my cheeks apart. “Let me see the goddess I’ve claimed,” his voice is deep and dark, I squirm under the heat of his ravenous eyes.
“Fuck me, you make me weak,” he groans before he jerks my hips up and back and puts his mouth between my thighs.
“Oh God,” I moan when his tongue probes my tight pucker over and over, his lips sucking, introducing me to a pleasure I didn’t even know existed.
“I want in here,” he slips the tip of his thumb into my ass and presses. “Does it hurt?” he asks, and probes deeper when I shake my head no.
I yelp at the first icy cold splash of champagne against the tender skin he’s just ravished. Then, I moan when his sinful lips suck it up. I groan when his thumb slides back inside me, deeper than before. I bear down, testing how it feels. “I hope you’ve got lube in your pocket.” I grunt when he pressed even deeper.
“It’s the only reason I kept them on.” He shifts off the bed and I turn to watch him undress and smile when he pulls a foil packet and a tiny bottle of clear liquid from his pocket.
He steps out of his pants and briefs and rolls the condom over his glorious erection and pours half the bottle into his hand and strokes it over himself.
“You ready?” he asks.
I nod and turn my head as he lifts my hips up. He drops a kiss onto my back and then, my god of war mounts and makes me his.
He goes slow at first, sliding in inch my inch until he’s fully seated. My body opens like a flower for him, when he starts to thrust, the pleasure is explosive. His hands glide up my back, slide down to cup my breasts, and he thumbs my nipple, pressing in, pinching it until I am on the verge of a cliff so high, I’m not sure I’ll survive the fall.
But I’d be happy to die trying. I slip my fingers between my legs and rub my clit, and together we fling my body into a blistering release that pulls a scream from me. He pulls out of me and flips me over. The velvety dark sky glitters above me before his face comes into view.
He kneels between my thighs and rolls the condom off, flings it away and lifts my thighs over his shoulder and slams his rock-hard dick into my pussy, burying himself to the hilt. “You know that I’m never, ever going to let you go.” he asks me his eyes narrowed to slits of desire
“You couldn’t. I’m holding on to you forever, my love.” I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down, so I can seal that promise with a kiss.
Victory
Stone
I look down at the goddess I’m ravaging and smile. There is a wanton abandon in the careless sprawl of her body. The smile on her face is carnal satisfaction incarnate. But it’s her eyes that tell me what I want to know. In the dark depths of them there’s an eternity of light and love that burns brighter than any star I’ve ever seen. My heart is home, finally.
6 months later
HOUSTON, TX
Home Base
Stone
“Perfect day, right?” Hayes muses, more to me than himself. We’re sitting on the sidelines watching Eva’s baseball scrimmage. His son, Phoenix, is in his usual spot, curled up on Hayes’ chest with his mouth drooping open, and his eyes closed. Blissed out is this kid’s most common facial expression. I’ve never met a happier baby.
He must have gotten it from his mama because his father is a grumpy asshole. Well, except for the moments when he’s my bad ass big brother who slays dragons for me.
Beyond the check he cut for Venus Rising, and the calls he made to move her licensing along, he’s also brought Marcel to heel.
When he realized that I was the man in the picture, and he went on a bit of a rampage.
He started filing frivolous motions that were dismissed with court costs and attorney’s fees awarded to Regan every time.
He tried to have me fired by petitioning the board to enforce the morality clause. I tendered my resignation without waiting for them to finish their review. Even if they didn’t find me in violation of their clause, I didn’t want to work for an organization that thought they had the right to dictate my personal life.
After that failed, Marcel filed an ethics complaint with the state licensing board. That’s when Hayes moved to void all of the contracts they’d signed for their joint project unless Marcel backed down.
Marcel Landel is the biggest whale in the sea. His pockets are deep and his fondness for seeing his name on the sides of buildings makes him a favorite in fundraising circles. And Hayes’ charm offensive made feuding with him inconvenient.
So, Marcel waved a white flag and even wrote Regan a note of apology.
“Just ask me…. I can feel you thinking,” Hayes complains without taking his eyes off the field. I hate how astute he is. It’s been a few months and I’ve always wondered but didn’t want to offend him when he’d taken such a huge gamble on my behalf.
“You weren’t really going to cut
ties with Landel, were you?”
He glances at me, his hazel eyes as unreadable as always. “You think I was bluffing?”
“Weren’t you?”
“Never. I would have canceled those contracts. Yes, he’s given us a lot of money, but I don’t need it. You’re my brother. If he’s hurting you, then he’s hurting me. Also, it’s clear to anyone with eyes that you two reformed conformists belong together. I knew he’d see sense.” He slaps my shoulder fondly and I cough to clear my throat. Damn, if Hayes didn’t nearly bring a tear to my eye.
The crack of the ball striking the bat has us both turning toward the field.
“Holy shit, she’s fast,” Hays says, and I follow his line sight.
Eva Landel is running like a demon, tagging bases and dodging the grasps of the boys who try to catch her with the ball. She streaks from third to home. The outfielder who caught the ball makes a running leap at her and she evades him by inches, but she never looks back.
I’m on my feet, my camera out to record this for Regan as Eva slides into home to the deafening shouts of the crowd. The twins are having a Beyblade battle a few feet away but tear their eyes away from their game to clap for their sister.
My conversation with Hayes is forgotten and my heart nearly bursts with pride. Her teammates flood the pitch and lift her on their shoulders to carry her to the dugout.
I brought Eva to her scrimmage this morning because Regan and her mom had an errand to run. She’s the only girl on her baseball team, but she’s the fastest and the most fearless.
The last six months have gone by in a blink and yet it feels like we’ve been doing this forever. The kids are off for a summer in Monaco in two weeks. While it’ll be nice to have the house to ourselves as we settle into domestic routine, I’m sorry they’re going for so long
