by Nicole Casey
My clit was sensitive and I jerked when he suctioned over it, the tip of his tongue jutting forth to play one last time before pulling himself up to meet my face with his.
“You taste delicious,” he told me but blood was still rushing in my ears, making his words difficult to hear or heed fully. All I knew was that a primitive need to join him to me was beyond reason and I wrapped my calved around his back, thrusting myself upward to feel the tip of his shaft into my sopping middle. I couldn’t bear it a second longer and Julian seemed to sense I was on the edge of losing my mind.
He succumbed to my unspoken desire, filling me deeply and I moaned, my voice raising when he dove inside deeply.
“Fuck…” It was meant to be a cry but it came out a strangled whisper, this thickness and length of his unit taking my breath away—again.
Julian propped himself up on ripped, muscled arms almost as if he was about to commence a work out regime on me but I knew it was so we could lose ourselves in one another’s eyes.
He didn’t speak again but I probably wouldn’t have heard him. I was consumed by the fire glowing in his aqua irises, the sensation of his sack slapping over the sensitive cleft but inside I was already building toward another climax.
He grunted, his eyes growing larger and I felt the swell of him inside me to the point I wasn’t sure I would manage him inside me all at once but of course, I did and with a choked groan, I expelled another release on him, the juices zigzagging over both our skin.
“Oh…fuck, Kennedy…”
He didn’t need to say more. I knew what was coming—he was and I tightened my inner walls to suction around him, drawing out his orgasm.
The noise he made was a cross between a howl and a sigh but the lava which poured inside was full of force.
Three long, hard jerks brought him to the end of his climax and he fell forward as if that had expelled every last drop of energy from him.
His heart was pounding steadily, synching with mine and I lay in his arms without moving or making a sound. It was the most bittersweet moment of my life.
It felt so right being there in his strong, steady arms but I knew it was also so wrong.
I never wanted the sensation to end but I also knew it was inevitable that in a few minutes, I would return to the dismal reality that we could never really be.
8
Julian
We woke at precisely the same time that morning, rolling toward each other as if attracted by magnets. I blinked twice, mimicking her inadvertently, our eyes locking sleepily on one another.
For hours we’d made the love, exploring and rediscovering one another although it was really like the first time. Even though I was stone-cold sober, I could help but feel I was flying with Kennedy.
“Good morning,” I murmured. “How did you sleep?”
The look on her face was a mixture of confusion and awe as if she couldn’t believe I was still there. I knew how she felt—I was having a hard time reconciling everything that had happened with reality also.
“I slept better than I have in weeks,” she confessed and more surprise crossed her lovely face when she said it. She sat up and looked around.
“What time is it?”
“Does it matter?” I asked lightly. Kennedy grimaced slightly but instead of countering my question, she flopped back down, curling into my side. We were naked and the feel of her warm skin against mine was setting me on fire again. When had any woman ignited me like she had? It was a rhetorical question—I knew the answer was never.
“Are you hungry?” I asked. “I know I’ve worked up an appetite after last night.”
She laughed, amusement sparkling in her eyes.
“Well we have an entire Italian restaurant in my kitchen,” she reminded me. “I hope you like pasta for breakfast.”
“I’m more of a cold pizza guy.”
She made no move to rise and I didn’t want to be the first to move but the springs of the worthless mattress we lay upon were digging into my back. I raised my hand to stroke her hair softly, relishing the feel of the silk against my fingers. The rhythm of her heartbeat matched mine but that didn’t surprise me. We were in perfect synch with one another.
Kennedy buried her face in my chest, her warmth breaths sending shivers through my body. I could tell she didn’t want to ruin the closeness of the moment but even as I thought it, her foot began to twitch nervously like something was on her mind.
I tried to soothe her mounting anxiety with the soft strokes of my palms but suddenly, her heart was racing and I sensed her about to rise.
“Do you mind if I take a shower?” I asked before she could say anything. I wasn’t sure I wanted her to say something too real. Maybe if I slipped into the bathroom for a few minutes, she would reconsider whatever it was she was fighting to say.
“Sure,” she replied but there was uncertainty in her tone. “I-I’ll find you a towel.”
She ambled to her feet and I was again struck by how beautiful she was as her nude form stalked across the floor toward the hall closet. Kennedy returned a minute later and tossed me a thin towel.
“The hot water is temperamental,” she warned. “Good luck.”
Her smiled caused my cock to jump again but I forced myself not to encourage my little soldier. I feared I would break him after the vigorous training I had put him through the previous day.
“I’ll get breakfast going,” she volunteered but I couldn’t help but notice how her eyes lingered on me a moment longer than necessary. Her eyes told me everything I needed to know.
Without another word, she moved back into the apartment and left me to shower.
I hadn’t brought a change of clothes with me to her apartment. I hadn’t known what I’d find, after all, but after I battled the shower from hell with its low pressure and scalding periods, I wished I’d packed heavier.
I redressed in the same clothes I’d arrived in and joined Kennedy in the kitchen where she’d laid out the leftovers on her rickety kitchen table. I sat in one of the mismatched chairs and was momentarily taken aback by the way she had presented the meal. The food was neatly put onto an eclectic compilation of cheap dishes, serving spoons ready. Two plates with cutlery had been set next to a paper towel and I swallowed a smile because I didn’t want her to think I was mocking her. The truth was, I was impressed with her desire to make it look nice, even though she did not own a single item of value.
“Pizza’s there,” she informed me, gesturing at one of the plates. It wasn’t really necessary for her to point it out but I think she was grasping at something to keep the conversation light and away from what we really needed to discuss—us.
“Everything looks great,” I told her. “Thank you.”
“You’re the one who bought everything,” she replied. “So, thank you.”
I peered at her and placed the pizza in my hand onto a plate.
“Kennedy, you don’t have to thank me for anything,” I told her softly. “I know me showing up here like this caused you some anxiety but that was the last thing on my mind.”
“You didn’t cause me anxiety,” she told me and I detected some truth to her words. “I have enough anxiety for everyone already.”
I grinned at her and reached for the food again, taking a comical bite. To my relief, she smiled back and her face registered some relief.
“Not that I have much experience with the super-rich,” she said slowly. “But you’re not entirely what I expected. I mean, you are, but you’re not.”
“Money doesn’t make a person,” I replied almost automatically. It was a rote response.
“People say that but is it really true?”
I studied her face pensively.
“Is that existential? Rhetorical? I’m confused.”
“Well, what does make a person?” she asked enigmatically. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that material goods don’t.”
I nodded in agreement, my mind whirling to catch up with her thought pro
cess but she had lost me already.
“I don’t think they do.”
“Would you say that people can’t thrive fully unless they are well fed?”
Again, I was perplexed but I nodded.
“Of course.”
“Sheltered?”
“I think the basic necessities of life are crucial to establishing a personality.”
“Would you say that someone struggling to eat or pay rent can’t really be all that they can be?”
Finally, I got what she was saying and I felt slightly defensive.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” I conceded.
“So, in effect, money does make a person. The more money they have, the more established their personality becomes.”
I grunted but at the same time I was impressed with her reasoning. I guessed she’d thought about it a lot, given her lack of finances.
That’s going to change. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of no matter what happens between us.
“What is going to happen between us?” I decided to ask and she gaped at me, apparently not expecting the question. There was a plaintive yearning in her eyes but she shot her gaze away before answering.
“I don’t know, Julian.”
“What do you want to happen with us?” I insisted. I needed to know where she stood, what she thought. Kennedy’s mouth became a firm line and I realized I had pushed her too far too fast.
Shit, I’d ruined what was proving to be a perfectly pleasant morning.
“Never mind,” I said quickly, wishing I could recant the question. “Forget I asked. We’ll take this slow.”
She looked up at me and the sadness had escalated. Something was weighing heavily on her mind but I could see that pressing her wouldn’t give me the answers I wanted.
“Hey, so what’s there to do around here?” I asked brightly. “Is there a mall or—”
“I think you should go back home to Miami,” she said softly. The words filled with a slight dread but I didn’t really think she was dismissing me altogether.
“If that’s what you want, Kennedy, I’ll go,” I told her. I tried to keep the bitterness out of my tone and I thought of the divorce papers sitting in the rental car downstairs.
“I don’t want you to go,” she told me. “But I think you should.”
The statement didn’t need any clarification. I knew what she was saying and I couldn’t deny that she was right.
It was all too much, too soon.
Stiffly, I rose from the teetering chair and nodded.
“All right,” I agreed. “But this isn’t over.”
She pursed her lips together and shook her head.
“I hope not.”
We stared at one another for a long, aching moment, both of us unsure of what to say. All I knew for certain was that the trip to Cedarside had clarified everything for me—the feelings I had for Kennedy were not imagined. The question was, what were we going to do next?
9
Julian
I hadn’t wanted to leave but I knew Kennedy needed some time to sort things out. I couldn’t fault her for that but on my plane home, I resisted the urge to have the pilot turn around and go back for her.
I wasn’t feeling particularly confident in how we’d walked away, like there was something deeper on Kennedy’s mind than she’d let on.
Of course, how was I to know how someone would react to such bizarre news? In all my travels, in the charmed life I’d led, I’d never known anyone who ever married someone drunk in Vegas. It was an urban legend, something that college kids did or made up to warn one another about the dangers of binge drinking.
Apparently not, I mused.
In my head, I knew that Kennedy and I would have to go through with the annulment. She had brought it up first anyway so I could see she was on the same page but at the same time, I wondered what that would mean for us.
If there was an “us”.
Could we get an annulment and see if our relationship would progress from there? It seemed so backward and logically, it didn’t make any sense to me.
I thought about her crappy apartment in the seedy area of a small town. She had so little and she’d just been fired from her job.
Embarrassed, I realized I hadn’t even asked her what she did for a living.
I envisioned her working some menial job which stifled her specialness. Maybe a fast food worker or a waitress? The idea bothered me more than I already was.
No wife of mine should be working in such a place anyway, I thought and while it was meant to be tongue-in-cheek, it made me groan to myself.
What were we going to do?
The best I could expect now was to give Kennedy a couple days to process and we’d go from there.
I could still smell her on me and I closed my eyes as the jet zoomed back toward Florida, reliving the hours we’d spent together in her apartment.
I wondered if she was having the same problems with our situation as I was, if she was considering staying married to me, even though it was not reasonable…was it?
There I was again, going back and forth with the idea but I couldn’t help myself. Our bond was unlike anything I’d ever known with any woman. I was electrified by her touch, motivated by the look in her eyes.
Even as I sat in the clouds, I felt myself growing hard at the thought of her writhing beneath me.
It wasn’t going to be easy to let her go, even if I wanted to.
Even if she demanded it of me.
I tried to avoid everyone when I landed on Bryant Island but that was easier said than done. Terry caught up with me in my suite.
“Did you see her?” he demanded and I sighed. The man evidently thought he was my father.
“I just got in, Terry. Can you give me a minute?” I asked but I knew the question had fallen on deaf ears as it left my mouth.
“What did she say? Is she asking for money?”
I was instantly annoyed.
“Why do you always assume the worst in people?” I snapped and instant relief crossed over the attorney’s face.
“Oh good. So she signed.”
I hesitated, unsure of how much I wanted to tell him.
“No,” I replied. “She hasn’t signed the papers because I didn’t give them to her.”
“Why the hell not?” he screeched. “This is the company we’re talking about, Julian! This isn’t some teenaged game you can play.”
I bristled.
“It is my company,” I agreed sharply. “Not yours, not Eloise’s. I wish you people would remember that. I was the one who singlehandedly built this company from a handful of buildings into a multi-billion-dollar empire. Don’t tell me about Bryant Land Holdings. I know what’s at stake. I also know how to manage my personal life. Your job is not to tell me how to do my job.”
A look of hurt crossed over the older man’s face and I realized I may have gone too far but I didn’t care. Terry didn’t know anything about Kennedy. He didn’t see her beauty, her fight. He hadn’t been in the shitty apartment in Indiana where she proudly tried to refuse food, even though she was clearly hungry.
I’d be damned if I would walk away from someone like her because Terry was worried about an image problem.
“Julian, ever since your father died, I have made it my duty to look out for you,” Terry mumbled, shooting his eyes downward. “My intention is not to get on your case or tell you how to live your life.”
“Great. Then stop.”
Terry seemed to sense that the conversation was over and he turned away, leaving me alone in the sitting room.
Maybe I’d been too harsh but just like Eloise and Maddy, Terry didn’t seem to realize I wasn’t a puppet for them to control.
That wasn’t fair—Terry was nothing like my step-family. He genuinely did care about me. I was just tired and defensive, unsure about my next move. I wasn’t used to feeling this helpless.
My phone rang and hope sprung into my heart as I snatched it off the
coffee table where I’d dropped it. I was sure it was Kennedy calling, saying she’d decided what to do about our marriage.
I didn’t want to be the one to decide either way, another strange concept for me. I had never been one to question myself. Choices were easy for me—it was what made me such a good businessman. I didn’t need to waffle one way or another.
But this wasn’t a business arrangement.
It was Eloise.
That woman did not know when to give up.
“Eloise, this is a bad time,” I growled, ready to hang up.
“You got married?”
Her voice was almost a whisper and it took me a minute to realize what she’d said. I’d never heard her so furious. When the words finally registered, I tensed.
“Who told you that?” I demanded, knowing that only Terry knew about it. I couldn’t imagine the attorney betraying my confidence like that but if he thought I had gone off my rocker, he might have taken desperate measures to make me follow through with the divorce.
“Are you fucking stupid?” my step-sister hissed. “You married some poor trash from Indiana when you could have had Genevieve Brulle? I can’t believe dad left the company to you.”
There was something sinister in Eloise’s tone but that wasn’t unusual. However, she seemed to be giving me a hidden message which made no sense to me whatsoever.
“I think I made my sentiments on Genevieve clear,” I answered evenly, although my blood was boiling at the classification of Kennedy. “And once again, Ellie, I don’t recall asking for your opinion on my life.”
I chose to ignore the comment about the company for the moment. Sometimes I thought Eloise thought she had been cheated out of Bryant because she was a girl, not because she wasn’t related to my father by blood. There was never a question that I stood to inherit it all but try explaining that to Eloise.
“You are making a huge mistake, brother,” she continued and I wondered if she had heard my side of the conversation at all. “Get your annulment and forget this ever happened.”
