by J. J. Sorel
“As my father can be. They’re adults, baby. What they choose to do in their private time is their business.”
An uncomfortable knot had formed in my solar plexus. “What would you say if I acted like Tabitha?”
His lips tightened and his eyes had gone dark and intense. “I’d break the jerk’s neck.”
“And how do you think I’d feel if a woman tried to come on strong to you?”
“I’d expect you to do the same.” His lips twitched. “Not break her neck, but perhaps pull her hair, something a bit more feminine. Or poison her. At least, I hope you would.”
Unable to roll with his drollery, I said, “I would do more than pull her hair, Aidan. It would send me crazy with jealousy. Look at what happened with Jessica.”
He finished undoing my hair and ran his fingers through it. As he massaged my scalp, I dissolved into the leather sofa.
“Clarissa, I am nothing like my father. Even in my crazy, fucked-up days. I never, I repeat, never cheated on Jessica. I’m a one-woman man. And to be honest, no woman has ever made me feel and come the way you do. I’m constantly hot around you, Clarissa.” He undid the zipper to my dress, and his hands travelled to my breasts. His caresses sent shivers of excitement through me.
“You’re the prize, Clarissa. Even the most seasoned player would happily become monogamous if it meant having you.”
I smiled. “That’s reassuring, Aidan, because I don’t want anybody but you.” I hooked my fingers inside his waistband and drew him close to me. My hand ran up and down his bulge.
His eyelids lowered as he sat by my side on the sofa. Opening my thighs, he hooked his finger inside my panties and ripped them off. That little destructive act always sent a lightning bolt between my legs.
“I feel like a pre-dinner snack,” he said, running his tongue up my thigh.
Phew. Would it ever stop burning so deliciously? Somehow, I didn’t think it possible. Just the mere smell of Aidan as I buried my face in his warm neck. That distinct scent oozing out of his skin—a cocktail of subtle cologne and flesh-heating masculinity. It was a drug. My eyelids lowered as an intense swelling sensation engulfed me. When his tongue tickled my engorged bud, I winced, and my body liquified.
I unzipped his pant and reached in for his hard, veiny thickness.
An aroused sigh left his parted lips. “You’re mine, baby, as is this little, wet, tasty pussy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Crossing my arms, I hid my nakedness as I ran to the shower. Aidan chased me. He played some silly boogeyman and made stupid monstrous sounds. It was child’s play. I loved every glorious minute of it.
Aidan laughed more and more each day. The intensity that he used to revert to when left to his own thoughts looked more like tranquil reflectiveness. Even after what we’d been through, I noticed Aidan’s step had lightened. I sensed his relief. Two enemies no longer cast their vengeful shadows over our perfect lives.
In Bryce’s case, it was more complex, because Aidan was saddened by his former buddy’s descent into seedy darkness. If it weren’t for the threat Bryce had posed for me, I think Aidan would have cried at Bryce’s funeral. The fact that he even attended surprised me.
It added to my love for Aidan because it took a big heart to feel compassion for a man as selfish and warped as Bryce.
I still recalled Aidan’s response when I questioned him over his decision to attend the funeral. “Princess, who are we to judge the fallen? There are often so many dark forces behind a person’s descent into crime—a past riddled with abuse; violent and persistent bullying at school; or unaffectionate parents. Love makes us. It civilizes us. I don’t think Bryce ever had that.” His lips twitched as his stoic side stepped in to fight off a lone tear.
Instead, I cried for him. More because of the sadness I felt for those who were alone and lost.
As we held each other tight, I thanked my late mother. Before Aidan came into my life, I never believed in the supernatural. But as I inhaled my lover’s very essence, I was convinced that my late mother’s spirit had delivered Aidan into my arms.
*****
Tabitha was in a thick bathrobe with her hair in a towel when I entered. “I can’t decide on what to wear. What are you wearing?” she asked.
“The purple dress I picked up from the Vintage Bazaar.”
“You’re going all Goth. I suppose it will go with the ruby earrings you bought.”
“That’s what I thought,” I said, walking to the window. I stared out onto the busy street. There was so much to see and take in. It was an endless stream of life. But as my eyes stretched above their heads, a priceless view of the lush, green park made me pause for a breath.
Tabitha held up her prized jeans.
“They’re a little too casual, Tabs.”
She nodded.
“What about the red silk wrap around dress we bought today?”
Her eyes misted over with delight. “It is so sexy. Do you think? I could wear it with these ankle boots.”
“Hmm… it would grunge it up a bit, I suppose. I like it.”
“Yay!” Tabitha swung me around. “This is so much fun. Thanks for bringing me along, Clary.” She went serious. “Is Aidan okay about all the things you bought me? Shit. You spent a fortune.”
“I haven’t actually had a chance to mention it,” I said with a hint of a smile.
“Ah, I thought I could hear a bit of groaning and moaning. I figured it wasn’t due to a tooth being pulled. Something a little more delicious being pulled?” Her eyebrows bounced up and down.
I laughed raucously. “You’re wicked, Tabs. And I didn’t realize the walls were so thin.”
“Don’t worry, sweetie. I owe you big time for all those wall-vibrating sessions back in our little place downtown.”
“You sure do.” I giggled. “There were times when I couldn’t work out whether you were being strangled or whether you were actually enjoying it.”
“Both,” she said with a cheeky glint in her eyes.
“What?” I grimaced.
She laughed. “Just pulling your little leg, Clary. God, you’re so gullible.”
“Well, I don’t know with you, Tabi. Especially with this whipping fetish you’ve suddenly developed.”
She stripped out of her robe and stood in her lacy white bra and panties.
I thought of her earlier flirtation with Aidan’s attorney. “Hmm…you look like you’re getting ready for your own moany-groany session.”
“Ha…” She giggled. “Yeah, Brad’s pretty cute.”
“What about Grant?”
“You keep asking me that. Look, Clarissa, there’s something I need to tell you.”
I hissed behind my teeth. “Should I sit down?”
“If you’re going to bring your 1950s-grandma attitude, then yes, do sit.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not that old-fashioned. You’re just wild.”
“Mm… I suppose I am,” she said, tilting her head. “Anyway, look, Grant and I have decided to swing.”
“You mean swap partners?”
“All of that, and more.”
“And more?”
She laughed at my scrunched look of disbelief. “We discussed it. As long as we use condoms, he’s cool with it. And there’s more to it, I suppose.”
“What do you mean?”
Tabitha had that look she got when about to reveal something shocking—narrowing eyes, a reddening of her cheeks, and a twitchy little grin.
“He admitted one night while we were watching pornos that he’d like to watch me being fucked by another guy.”
My mouth opened wide. “What? Porn? You watch those together?” At that moment, I really did sound like a 1950s grandma. I also realized just how straight my sex life with Aidan was. It was perfect, though. There were plenty of raunchy happenings between us, and I would have hated to rely on pornography to keep us aroused.
Before she could respond, I asked, “What happened to the jealous, ‘I would cut h
is balls off’ attitude you had, and not to mention Grant who, you told me was seriously jealous, as well?”
She shrugged. “We’ve changed. We’re comfortable in our relationship, I suppose. He would do everything to protect me and knock someone out if they tried to take me away, and I guess I would be seriously pissed if Grant left me to marry someone else.” She tied her wrap dress and looked in the mirror. “We’re in love, Clary.”
“It’s a strange form of love. But who am I to judge. To each their own. But I do worry about you, Tabitha. Are you ever going to stop being so restless?”
Tabitha turned and faced me. For the first time since arriving, I noted a shadow fall over her face. “I don’t know, Clary. Life’s short. Look at what happened with my family. All dead by the time they were forty. If I’m going to die young, at least I would have had a ton of pleasure and fun.”
“But you don’t know for sure. I mean, your mom and dad were both heavy smokers. You don’t smoke. You’re as healthy as anything. And goodness knows you get plenty of exercise,” I said with a cheeky smile.
Her face brightened. “Yeah, of the fun kind. None of that pounding on concrete for us girls.”
“That’s better, Tabs. But still, that’s so weird about you and Grant. I couldn’t do it.”
“I know that.” She pulled at my hair playfully. “I just needed to let you know that if I decide to fuck Brad, then I have Grant’s blessing.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Shit.”
I recalled Aidan’s blasé response earlier regarding Tabitha’s predilection for flirting and just sighed with acceptance. “As long as you don’t do it here. I couldn’t stand that. I still find this difficult to deal with. You seemed so into each other.”
“Grant and I are really in love. It’s just that he’s as sexually restless as I am. We discussed it and decided that it would be okay to have spontaneous experiences. Have you heard of polyamory?”
“Multiple partners?” I asked.
She nodded. “That’s us. We even went to a meeting about it.”
“And you’re only telling me now?”
“There’s been a lot happening in your world lately, Clarissa.”
I nodded wistfully. “Yeah, true.”
Although what Tabitha had just admitted wasn’t easy for me to digest, I dropped out of my judgmental state and said, “Okay, better get ready, then. The purple Goth dress it is. Can you do my hair?”
She came over and hugged me. “I sure can. And thanks.” She pulled away and smiled sadly.
I shrugged. “That’s okay. Aidan’s loaded. He doesn’t mind.”
“No, not that, though, yeah, thanks for that too, but thanks for understanding and accepting me for who I am.”
“We’re sisters,” I said, hugging Tabitha. “I won’t forget how you were always there, belittling my bullies with your smart tongue, and how you supported me all those months by paying rent and buying food for us. And never complaining about it. You used up all your inheritance on keeping us going.”
“I’d do it again and again. We’re sisters, remember?”
I left Tabitha choked up, even if this new polyamory direction of hers had
left a strange taste in my mouth.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Tabitha put my hair up in a messy bun. It suited my purple silk-chiffon baby doll dress with tiered layers that flared out like a ballerina’s costume and floated in the air when I spun around. The sleeves were transparent, with a delightful flounce at the wrist. As I stood before the mirror, I could see that Tabitha was right—it was very Morticia. Around my neck, I tied a thin velvet ribbon. The ruby pendant earrings finished off my outfit perfectly.
Aware that the night would be cool, I had splashed out and bought a black cashmere coat with a fur collar. I purred with delight when I saw the beautifully tailored knee-length coat, which happened to fit me like a glove. Even though the price tag was in the thousands, I had to have it.
Aidan looked deliciously handsome, as always, in cream trousers that fell with elegant perfection from his waist. A white silk shirt and sky-blue cashmere blazer hugged his large shoulders. I wanted to devour him. His hair pomaded back showed off his beautiful face—that nose with a slight bump, which only added to his male beauty, a chiselled jawline, cleft chin, aquamarine eyes, and an expressive, suggestive mouth that made my lips go moist. It was hard to breathe properly around him.
His eyes lit up. “Oh my, you sexy little goddess. I love that dress.”
I spun around. “I feel like a dancer in it.”
He drew a circle with his finger. “Again, but this time faster.”
I pirouetted over and over again, giggling as I gave in to the dizzy delight of showing off my pretty dress and all that was below.
He ran his hand up my legs. “Mm… you look sensational, Clarissa.”
“I’m not too Gothic.”
“Splendidly so. I love all these looks, baby. I’m so glad you’re not a blue-jeans-and-stretchy T-shirt girl.”
“I do wear them sometimes.”
He squeezed my butt. “Yes, I know, and I love you in them, especially without a bra. But I also love you being classy and unique when we’re out. That’s what I mean.”
I stroked his jacket. “And I love this color on you, Aidan. The women of New York are going to be a little dewy tonight, staring at you.”
He laughed. “Dewy?”
“Aidan, I spent a truckload of money today.” My mouth pulled down at one side.
“Good. The more, the better.”
I shook my head in disbelief.
“Clarissa, it’s only money.”
“I know that, but there are many out there that could survive for a few months at the cost of this dress alone.”
He raised a brow. “It’s a sublime dress. I get your point, but beauty is worth everything. And you are that, my love.”
“I also spent a fair bit on Tabitha.”
“Good.”
“Why are you so generous?”
He shook his head and shrugged. “Come on. Put on that pretty coat, and let’s go. We’re running late.”
I slipped on my new cashmere coat and stood before the mirror. I’d opted for lace-up ankle boots. I loved the look. I turned and faced Aidan.
He shook his head. “Clarissa, you ought to be on the cover of Vogue. You look good enough to eat.”
I leaned in and kissed his neck. A subtle whiff of cologne assaulted my senses. The deeper I drew breath, the more of Aidan’s male scent drifted up my nose and through my body.
Drugged on Aidan, I took his arm and floated into the night.
CHAPTER THIRTY
If there were one thing one should do before leaving this earthly home, it was to taste homemade pasta. After I bit into the ravioli, mouth-watering flavors were unleashed onto my tongue. It was the sexiest meal I’d ever eaten, and so delicious I melted into my seat.
Always in tune with my moods, Aidan gazed at me, delighting in my fondness for food.
While Tabitha and Brad were lost in their own little world of seduction, I had Aidan’s undivided attention as I explained to him the virtues of the Met Museum.
“I can’t believe I’m going to see it, at last, Aidan. And that it is virtually across the road from us.”
He wiped his lips and took a sip of red wine. “That’s why I bought the apartment.”
“I love it. I love New York. It’s bubbling away with culture.”
“Just wait until I take you to Paris, baby. That will make those delectable, rosy lips open wide.”
“I can’t wait for that. But for now, I have the Met tomorrow.”
“I’d love to come along. I’ve been there often alone, but I’d like to share it with you. It is a magnificent collection. I particularly like the Egyptian art.”
“That’s right. It’s not just the paintings, but the artifacts. It’s such a rich collection. I’m dying to see the Picasso collection.”
Aidan took a s
ip of wine. “It’s probably not as comprehensive as Barcelona.”
“I know, but still,” I said. “There are some of his pre-Cubist works—his Toulouse Lautrec-inspired paintings. Did you know Picasso said, ‘A great artist doesn’t borrow he steals.’”
“That’s one big confession coming from someone who launched the modernist movement.”
I nodded. “He was the bridge between the classic era and the modern era, to be sure. Although Van Gogh and Cezanne got there first. They broke new ground, as did Turner for the Impressionist movement. In many ways, most art is copied. I see it as a form of curating. You know? Selecting images and ideas and mixing them to make something original.”
Aidan nodded with an appreciative smile. “I love Turner. He’s everything for me. I saw his works at the Tate. The seascapes are phenomenal. I fell into them. You know, I just sat and stared at them. The cry of the wind and the wild sea.”
My skin rippled with love. “Are you real?” I asked.
His lips turned up at one end. “That’s a question I often ask about you, angel.” Alone in our own universe, our eyes locked, as Aidan took my hand and kissed it.
Leaving me to swoon, Aidan turned to Brad. “What time’s the meeting in the morning?”
Brad’s dark eyes had that glow of desire etched into them. Tabitha had drawn the lawyer into her web of seduction. I’d seen that look over and over again. An hour with Tabitha, and men turned to putty. “Ah… ten a.m.”
“How long?”
“Two hours at the most, I’d say.”
Aidan looked at me. “Then we’ll go together.”
Excitement charged through me. “I’d love that, Aidan.”
Tabitha looked at me. “Let me guess. The Met?”
I nodded.
Turning to Brad, Tabitha said, “Clarissa has done nothing but talk about it all day. She’s an art tragic.”
Brad laughed. “As is Aidan.”
Aidan reached over and took my hand again. It was like a badge of honor for both us, this little passion of ours.
The night was crisp. I was really cozy in my coat, while Tabitha, dressed in a thin cardigan, crossed her arms, and her teeth chattered. Brad took off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. Her face lit up immediately with delight as she clasped it tightly around her.
