by Cole, Fiona
* * *
“What’s up, asshole,” I greeted Andrew as we walked through his door. Dorothy looked over at me with a raised eyebrow as she dusted the end tables.
Andrew turned his chair and threw his arms in the air. “Hey, hey, porn star.” His attention immediately shifted behind me to Jake. “Oh, you brought a friend.” He waggled his eyebrows, and I tried to prepare myself for what he may say next. “Does he want to see my new party trick?”
“No one wants to see that.”
“Dorothy wants to see that.” He looked over at his housekeeper who rolled her eyes but still had a smile on her face. “Don’t you, Dorothy?”
“You’re incorrigible.” She picked up the cleaning supplies and walked toward the kitchen. When she reached me, she stopped with her back to Andrew before speaking softly. “No changes lately. Although, we had a rough morning with the physical therapist. He just got. . .frustrated.”
I tried to keep a neutral expression, but it was hard. I hated hearing that Andrew was struggling.
“I’m right here. I know you’re talking about me,” Andrew grumbled, rolling his wheels back and forth.
“Have a nice night, Mr. Fields,” Dorothy said, ignoring his comment. “I’ll be back next week.”
When she left, Andrew stopped rolling his chair and finally looked at me.
“This is Jake.”
They greeted each other, Jake being his polite self and Andrew with a glint in his eye that made me nervous. Before sitting, I laid the donut box on the table. Hopefully he’d take it as a peace offering and not scare Jake away.
“Daniel wanted me to bring these over.”
“Oh, fuck yes,” Andrew groaned, flipping the lid. He groaned again when he saw the six maple-bacon donuts at the bottom. But then he flipped the lid and lifted the box like he was looking for something. “I thought he would have attached my application to fill out.”
“Ha. Ha,” I deadpanned.
“I mean,” Jake began, “I’m sure someone has to have a fetish. Daniel may be missing a market. I’ll have to run the numbers.”
By the time he finished, my eyes were bulging, and I looked at him wondering what the fuck he was doing. Meanwhile, Andrew was practically bouncing in his seat.
“Yesss.” He dragged the s out and pumped his arms in victory. “Someone on my side.”
I gave Jake a dirty look to which he only smiled and shrugged as Andrew dug into a donut.
His mouth was full with the second donut when my heart almost stopped. “So, Jake. You fucking my brother or is he fucking you? I never know if he’s a top or bottom.”
If I thought Jake’s comment had my eyes popping out of my head, that question was having me concerned I’d need them surgically placed back in.
Andrew just took another bite, smiling as he watched Jake’s jaw flap open and closed in utter shock. Blood was thrumming through my ears, white noise blocking everything out. But it didn’t block out Jake’s next words. As much as I wish it would have.
“No! God, no! I’m not gay. I have a fiancée. No. I would never…Just no.”
I was going to be sick. My stomach churned harder and harder with each no he spewed so adamantly. His jaw clenched once he was done and his eyes flicked toward me, but I had to look away to hide the fire burning in my eyes.
He’d fucked me.
He’d been inside me.
I’d let him.
And he just denied everything.
I knew he wasn’t going to outright admit everything, but I never expected such a vehement denial. Like he was disgusted just by the thought of it.
My chest physically hurt as I struggled to breathe. I had to fist my hand around the arm of the chair to keep myself from running. Clenching my jaw, I inhaled through my nose as deep as my tight lungs would let me before exhaling slowly from my mouth. I blinked a few times to clear my eyes and finally looked up to find Andrew staring at Jake with his own jaw clenched and his eyebrows lowered.
Andrew knew who Jake was. He knew how much he meant to me. A pinch released from my lungs lightening the pressure knowing he was on my side, that he had my back. But it also came back when I wondered what would come out of his mouth next.
He looked over at me and I shook my head just enough for him to see. He swallowed and shook his own head to clear it. An awkward silence settled over the room as we all simmered for different reasons with Jake’s outburst.
Andrew grabbed another donut and took a bite, still staring at Jake. I didn’t have it in me to see what Jake was doing. If he was looking down, if he held Andrew’s stare, or if he was looking to me with an apology. I couldn’t look. I couldn’t see an apology in his eyes if it was there. It was too late. But at the same time, if he wasn’t trying to apologize, I didn’t know which would hurt more.
Andrew swallowed his bite and finally broke the silence in the only way he knew how. “So, can you get me a prostitute?”
My eyebrows shot up my forehead as I tried to mentally process his question. And then the craziest thing happened. I laughed. I tossed my head back and laughed. But even crazier…Jake was laughing beside me. We both laughed at Andrew’s crazy-ass question, and while I still physically hurt, I hurt a little less because of my awesome, weird as fuck, brother.
“What?” he asked, incredulously. “I can jerk it all day long, but I’d love to test it on the real deal.”
“Jesus,” I muttered, still laughing.
“She’d have to do all the work, but I’ve got a pretty face and strong arms.”
This time, I knew Jake was looking at me. I could feel his gaze like a touch to my skin. “Your brother’s kind of awesome.”
He wanted me to forgive him without talking about what he said, I could hear it in his tone. I just didn’t know if I could. So, I didn’t look at him. I kept my eyes glued to my lifeline doing his best to thrust his hips up in the chair.
“Yeah, he is.”
21
Jackson
“You look tired,” Carina said to me from where she sat atop a barstool, her elbows leaning on the newly installed bar.
We were working at Voy together, her typing away on her computer, making sure the finishing touches were ready to go before opening. I sat on the other end with my own laptop going over the finance programs we were updating for both Voyeur and Voy. It had been a companionable silence as everyone else had left a couple hours ago.
I rubbed a hand over my face and leaned back from my work. “It’s been a long few days getting everything ready. On top of that, Daniel left this week, and I’ve been covering for him at Voyeur.”
“You know, if you need a night to yourself to relax, I’m sure Jake would understand you not coming over.”
If she had held my stare and shown me the concerning gleam she always had in her eyes when she was worried about someone, I would have brushed off the suggestion. I would have made a comment about how I was never too tired to satisfy both of them.
Instead, she’d stared down at her finger drawing figure eights on the bar. She’d only mentioned how Jake would be understanding. Her name wasn’t in the mix at all. Did that mean Jake was the only one that needed to understand?
I swallowed hard, willing her to look up at me to give me a clue as to what was behind her words. Anything to help me clear the mess that had taken up more space than usual these past few days. Between her seeming more distant after Jake and I’d had sex, Jake’s adamant denial of ever being interested in a man, and now this easy-come-easy-go attitude about me coming over, I was ready to fall to her feet and beg her to explain. I was just about to do so, when the doors burst open.
Jake came strolling in, a smile yanking at the useless, masochistic organ in my chest. I wanted to brush him off and be strong enough to let my anger hold me back from seeing him anymore. Instead, my stupid heart beat harder, like it was more desperate than ever to be closer to him.
“I figured my two favorite people could use some dinner,” he announced, holding u
p two bags. He walked over toward me and set the bags down, holding my stare. I did my best not to give anything away. He did his best to pretend he hadn’t gutted me less than a week ago, and we had yet to talk about it. He did his best to smile and act like we were fine. But I could see the questions and worry. I knew him too well to miss it.
Two thin arms broke our connection when they wrapped around him and pulled him close, so Carina could give him a kiss like she hadn’t seen him in weeks rather than a few hours. My chest pulled tight, as well as my cock. I was like Pavlov’s dog, my reactions predictable. How could they not be when ninety-nine-percent of the time, these two people kissing in front of me usually led to me getting off.
And the way she sucked on his lips, begging for his tongue to come out to play, she was on a mission to at least make Jake hard. With a moan, she pulled back and Jake’s smile spread wider.
He turned to me and my body both froze and melted. Somehow when he stepped up to my stool, I kept the kiss to a peck, holding my hand on his chest and not allowing him to get closer. My muscles flexed tight to keep from gripping his shirt in my fist and attacking his lips.
But that was counterproductive to how I’d been pulling back from him. Doing everything I could to not be alone with him, so we could continue to avoid the conversation we’d yet to have. When we’d left our visit to Andrew, neither of us had spoken in the car, the weighty silence taking up too much space for platitudes and false promises of how he hadn’t meant it.
His jaw clenched when I pushed him back before he could deepen the kiss, but I ignored it and turned back to my laptop, closing out what I was working on. I wouldn’t be staying long with him there. Especially if we didn’t have sex to fill the time together, which was all I allowed myself to have with him.
Like a masochist, I couldn’t stop going to Carina’s apartment and finding oblivion in their bodies. But I kept a part of myself distant from Jake. I held back the deep connection I’d had growing inside me. I instead, focused on Carina, doing my best to place her between us. It allowed me to still have Jake without losing myself in him. How long I could keep it up, I didn’t know, but fuck if I knew how to stop.
“Italian?” Carina asked, her hand on Jake’s shoulder.
“Italian for my favorite Italian,” he answered with a smirk before turning to me. “And I went to Gino’s because I know how much you love their breadsticks.”
“Thanks. I’ll have to eat quick and leave. I’ve got to get back to Voyeur.”
“Oh.” His disappointment was palpable, but I shoved it away and dug in the brown paper bags, setting up a spot at one of the tables. Carina and Jake joined me soon after and talked about their day. I added where I could, but in my mind, every time I looked at Jake, I kept hearing his vehement denial.
I’m not gay. I have a fiancée. No. I would never…Just no.
“Jackson always had a thing for breadsticks,” Jake said, pulling me out of my nightmare. “He ate pretty healthy and portioned himself when it came to anything unhealthy, but he could pack away ten pieces of garlic bread without hesitating.”
I managed a tight smile at his reminiscing.
“A man after my own heart,” Carina said before taking a bite of her own bread.
Jake grabbed a piece and as if in slow motion began raising it to my lips. At that moment, I should have leaned forward, mimicking deep-throating it and making a joke about how I’d do it to his dick later. I should have. That would have been the casual normal between all of us.
What I did do was grip his wrist when he got too close to feeding me. Something so small, but intimate all the same. I thought of Lady and the Tramp and how romantic the scene was, and I didn’t want that with him. I could feel his pulse under my fingers, pounding just as hard as my own. Our eyes locked and both of them screamed a plea. His was a plea for forgiveness. Mine…I wasn’t sure what my plea was for, but I asked it all the same.
Carina’s fork scraped across her plate, like a window shattering and breaking the heavy silence. I shook my head and had to forcibly loosen the grip I held Jake in. But I didn’t let go. I’d punished him with my distance, maybe now I would punish him with my teasing.
Without any playfulness, and with my heart thudding impossibly hard, and my lungs squeezing tight, I held his stare and took the bite of the breadstick. Only when the heat in his gaze slowly bled away to hurt did I release his wrist. He knew what I was doing. He knew I was teasing, but in a way that showed him the intimacy I’d been denying the past few days.
“So,” Carina, interrupted. “I’m about finished up here.”
I finished chewing my bite and cleared my throat. “Yeah, I’m gonna go ahead and pack up. Thanks for dinner.” I stood and threw away my trash before grabbing my bag.
Turning to say goodbye, I took in Jake’s slumped shoulders and the way he twirled the same noodle around his fork again and again. When I approached the table, he looked up and I ignored the spark of hope in his eyes.
No, I wasn’t done extracting my punishment. Because that same punishment satisfied the masochist in me as I punished myself too. Punished myself for allowing myself to be treated this way, for allowing myself to fall into a position that hurt, but also filled a void in my chest.
I focused my attention on Carina, buried my hand into her hair and tipped her head back until her deep blue eyes sparked up at me.
“Thanks for keeping me company as I worked,” I murmured against her lips. Then I took. I took harder than necessary for a goodbye kiss. I tasted and ate and lost myself in her full mouth. I tasted every part of her and didn’t let go until my lungs were desperate for air. I pulled back and made my way to Jake, only to lean down and twist so his lips hit my cheek, jerking back before he could pull me in for more.
Then I left.
I left with the promise to myself that I wouldn’t go over tonight. Even if it was just one night, I wouldn’t go.
* * *
Carina
It took a solid minute after the door closed behind Jackson for Jake’s attention to turn back to me. Even then he stared down at his plate for a while.
“Thanks for dinner,” I said, trying to bring him out of his trance.
“Huh?” He looked up, almost startled to find me still sitting there and I bit the inside of my cheek to hide the pain that ignited in my chest. “Yeah, I wanted to see you guys and thought dinner would be perfect. I also have dessert.”
“Oh, goody.” I placed my hand on his forearm before he reached back into the bag and inched close to him. “Although, I was kind of hoping I’d be on the dessert menu tonight.”
His cheek ticked up and his eyes dragged down to the way my shirt gaped open. My nipples stood to attention, and the familiar heat I always had with Jake came roaring back around us.
“I can definitely arrange that,” he muttered, changing directions to move toward me.
But I wanted to tease him, make him want me until he was dying for me tonight, so I held up my hand and shook my head. “Not yet. First I want whatever treat you brought me.”
“Cocktease,” he grumbled, his look promising retribution later.
I couldn’t wait.
He opened a cheesecake with strawberries and a red velvet cake. I moaned at just the thought of tasting them as I piled both on my plate and dug in.
“What kind of cake do you want to have for the wedding?” I asked, stuffing the third bite of red velvet in my mouth. We barely discussed the wedding over the past few months, but the distance I felt between us before Jackson seemed to be rearing its ugly head and maybe I needed the reassurance of our future to make me feel better tonight.
His brow furrowed. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”
“We should do a cake tasting soon. I can schedule it for after the opening of Voy.”
“There’s no rush.” He shrugged, the casual motion piquing my irritation that he was avoiding the topic when I needed him to be excited instead. “We haven’t even s
et a date yet.”
“We could,” I pushed the subject. “Why not? We’re alone right now with free time and it’s just a date. It could be anything.”
“Carina,” he sighed, not taking his eyes off his plate. “We’ve got time. We don’t need to worry ourselves about it now. We’re both busy with Voy.”
We weren’t so busy that we couldn’t open an app on our phone and point to a date. I clenched my jaw to hold the words back. “We’ve already put it off and Voy opens so soon. What’s wrong with just thinking ahead to our future?”
The tines of his fork froze in the middle of dragging through the remnants of his cheesecake. He took another deep breath and finally looked up at me, his eyes blank, even though a smile spread across his lips—almost placating. “Then we’ll talk about it then.”
I gave my own bland smile and let the argument drop. For now. “Okay. It’s a date.”
“You’re not mad, are you?”
“No,” I said quickly before I could let yes slip from my lips. I didn’t want to argue. “I’m just excited to be your wife.”
Even as I said the words, they rang hollow inside me. They vibrated through my body with the first strings of doubt I’d felt. Sure, there had been distance between us, but never doubt about our future. But lately, the age-old question I was sure every bride had at one point or another, rose up. Was I making a mistake?
Shaking it off, I began packing up the trash, ready to head home and collapse.
“Hey, did Jackson say if he was coming over tonight?” Jake asked.
Jackson.
It always came back to Jackson. I loved him. No doubt about it. Not like I loved Jake, but we’d become close and I cared for him. I didn’t regret my decision to continue with our relationship, but sometimes I wish Jake wasn’t so concerned with him. Sometimes I wished Jake would ask if it could be just us. Sometimes I wished Jake would come home from the toy store we loved so much and give all his attention to me.
