“Not really. Because then one day he’ll be out of jail again, and we’ll be back where we were a year ago. I like him missing. I’m convinced he’s too fucked up to do anything to me, and this way I don’t have to think about him at all.” Maybe it was the fact that JC had his arm around me, or that I was surrounded by friends and family in general, but for once I didn’t dread talking about him.
“I wish he was in jail,” Norma piped in. “He might be completely drugged up, living under a bridge, but he also might be a functional addict with a job and an apartment somewhere. And if he is, what happens when he gets fired and can’t afford his next fix? That’s when he’ll show up again. I don’t like the uncertainty of it.”
“Neither do I.” Hudson surprised me with his concern. “Let’s talk tomorrow about this, Norma. See if I can help.”
JC shifted next to me. “I’d like to join you, if you don’t mind.”
“Really?” I cocked my head and gave him an incredulous look, but he patted my knee, and I decided to let it go. If JC wanted to join Norma on the search for my father, it wasn’t any skin off my back. Besides, his interest was a little bit of a turn-on. Or a lot.
“Aw, look, H,” Laynie said from her perch on the arm of Hudson’s chair. “Someone who wants to get all alpha protector with you. Have fun with that. Meanwhile, I need to steal Gwen for a minute in the kitchen.”
“Sure. Be there in a sec.” I waited until she’d gone to quietly say to JC, “She probably wants to know my thoughts about the cook. Will you be okay if I leave you?”
“I’m never okay when you leave me, but yes, I can handle the boy cub, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Very funny.” I kissed him, maybe a little too passionately considering the present company but also maybe because of the present company. I was lightheaded when I pulled away.
I started to stand, but JC tugged me close to whisper in my ear. “That was very naughty, Gwen.”
“Perhaps I’ll be punished for it later.” I squeezed his knee and, without looking back to see his response, stood and headed to the kitchen.
“What’s up?” I asked as I swung through the door, knowing full well that Laynie didn’t want to see me about the cook. She’d save that for our shift on Friday, as she always did when she brought in chefs to her house to audition for the club.
“Married?” Her eyes were wide and accusing. “Are you kidding me?”
Nope, definitely not about the chef.
I glanced around the kitchen, glad to find that both the server and the cook had already left. “I thought you’d be happy for me.” In fact, I wasn’t sure yet if Laynie was more pissed that I was getting married or that I hadn’t told her about it before announcing it to everyone.
“I would be happy for you if I thought you were in your right mind, but I’m not sure that you are.”
The kitchen door swung behind me, and I turned to see Hudson. He walked casually over to the sink and turned on the faucet. Since when did Hudson Pierce do anything in the kitchen? Were they ganging up on me? Great. Just…great.
I straightened my spine and defended my decision, even though I shouldn’t have had to. “This isn’t that big of a surprise. He asked me to marry him before he left.”
“And you said no because you didn’t know him well enough. Did that suddenly change?”
I folded my arms over my chest. “I told him no, and I’ve regretted it since. That hasn’t changed.”
“Gwen!” She practically stomped her foot. “Two days ago you didn’t even know if you wanted to see him again. This came out of nowhere.”
“As if you’ve never done anything impulsive, Alayna,” Hudson chimed in.
Oh, so not ganging up on me. Awesome. “Yeah. What he said.”
“I have done impulsive things, and that’s why I’m the perfect person to say it doesn’t usually work out in your favor.” She shot her husband a conciliatory glance. “You’re the exception, H, of course.”
“Of course.” He smiled tightly.
“So, see? How do you know that JC isn’t my Hudson? It worked out for you two, and it will work out for JC and me too.” It was funny how being on the defensive bolstered my position. I did have doubts about our engagement, but I certainly wasn’t going to share that now. “Trust me, Laynie.”
“I do trust you.” She sighed, her brown eyes softening. I realized then that she was speaking out of love, which made her objections a little easier to swallow. “Just.”
“Just what?”
“Two days ago you were also still considering Chandler.” Her eyes darted to her husband and back to me.
Was that what this was about? Chandler? She hadn’t expressed partiality to him before when I’d lamented about my love life. Maybe I hadn’t been the only one to notice how downtrodden he’d become at my news.
And Chandler was Hudson’s brother. Some loyalty to him was to be expected.
But I had to set the record straight. “I wasn’t really considering Chandler. No offense, Hudson.”
“Absolutely no offense taken.”
“I mean, he’s a nice guy. He is. And if I were available, yeah, maybe we could make that work. But I’m not available. I never was. I shouldn’t have ever gotten involved with him because I was always holding out for JC. Now JC’s back and he still loves me and I’m ridiculously happy with him. Can’t you be happy for me too?”
It took a few seconds, but eventually she smiled. “Yes. I can. I am. That’s all I want for you and you know it.”
She reached out to hug me, and I let her, which was a little strange for both of us since neither of us were huggers. It also felt really good. “Thank you for worrying,” I said at her ear. “You’re a great friend.”
“Anytime.” We parted and a silent beat passed, both of us wondering what to say next. She found words first. “Chandler, though. Man.” She giggled. “Did you see him sizing JC up when he realized who he was?”
Laynie rarely giggled, and when she did, it was contagious. “I totally did. I had to look away because I was laughing too hard.” More somberly, I added, “He’s been a total dick all night.”
“He’s just hurting.” She said it in a way that let me know she understood that Chandler’s pain wasn’t something I was responsible for. It was just the way things were.
“I know he’s hurting. I feel bad.”
“He’s fine,” Hudson scoffed, walking over to us. “That kid has had everything handed to him. He’s spoiled. A little heartache will do him good.”
Alayna slipped her arm around his waist. “Says the man who also had everything handed to him.”
“I worked my ass off—” She cut him off with a kiss that turned into the kind that I didn’t want to be present for.
I turned away from the display of affection. “I’ll be leaving now.”
Alayna broke off to ask, “Not leaving leaving, right?
“Just leaving the kitchen. Carry on.” I left them to their make-out session, relieved to have my friend on my side, but also a little irked that she hadn’t been on my side from the beginning, and ran straight into Norma.
“Can we talk for a minute?” she asked.
“Oh, God. Not you too.” Reluctantly, I let her tug me into the library. “Let me guess. You’re concerned I’m jumping into things too fast. I should think about this more. You think I should wait. There’s no need to rush.”
“With JC? That’s not what I was going to say at all. I wanted to tell you congratulations. And that I’m proud of you.”
Though the city’s ambient light streamed in through the full-length windows, it didn’t reach us where we were in the dark room, and it was difficult to read Norma’s expression. But her tone sounded sincere.
Still, after Laynie’s reaction, I had to be sure. “You are?”
“I am. I see a change in you when he’s around, and I think it’s for the better. You seem happier. Definitely not as uptight.”
“I am happier, thank you.
” Maybe it was because of the darkness or maybe because she was my sister or maybe just because I needed to ask someone and she was the person I trusted most. Whichever it was, I was able to voice the question that had niggled at me since I’d accepted the ring. “You really don’t think it’s a mistake?”
“Why would it be a mistake? Are you having doubts?”
“No, no, no.” I could have left it there. I didn’t. “But should I be having doubts? We barely know each other.”
“If you did know him better, would it really change anything?”
That was a good question. “I guess not. Unless I found out something terrible about him.”
“Did I ever tell you about the time I told Mom that I wished she’d known about Dad before she married him?”
“No. I don’t think so.” I’d been twelve when she’d died. Norma had been seventeen. I’d often envied that she’d had more time with our mother. That she’d been old enough to have conversations with her about topics that hadn’t even begun to cross my mind at that pre-teen age.
“It was near the end.” Norma paused, her gaze wandering out the window, and I knew she was remembering. “I told her that I wished she’d known he was violent when he asked her to marry him because then she could have said no.” She turned to me. “And you know what she said? She said she did know.”
“What?”
“She said she’d always known he was violent. And that she loved him anyway.”
“Christ, Mom.” Technically our mother had died of pneumonia-related complications, but we’d always known the true cause of death had been the beatings she’d taken from our father.
“I know. It’s sad.”
I let that hang there for a moment, absorbing the knowledge that my mother had loved my father and that she would have stood by him through anything. Did that make me a shitty legacy? Because I didn’t love him like she had even though he was my blood?
Then I remembered the conversation that had led to Norma’s remark. “Are you trying to tell me that JC might be violent, and oh well, because I’ll love him anyway?”
“No,” she said dismissively. “Well, possibly.” She put her hand out on my arm. “I’m trying to tell you that if you love JC, it doesn’t matter if you know him. Because whatever else you learn about him, you’ll still love him.”
“But what if he is violent? Or a child rapist? Or Republican?”
“I’m a Republican.”
“Which is why I’ll never marry you, Norma.”
She chuckled. “If he’s one as well, you’ll find a way to deal. There’s probably very little you could learn that wouldn’t be something you could work through together.” Like finding out he wants kids and I don’t. “And if you do find out something awful, and you want to leave him, it might be just as hard on your heart if you were married as it would be if you weren’t. So I say don’t worry about something that’s likely not going to happen. You should just enjoy yourself.”
I was so relieved to have Norma’s blessing that I was the one who pulled her into a hug. “I love you, Sissy. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Congratulations.” When we broke apart, she started toward the library door. “Are you coming back out there?”
“In a bit. I need to absorb everything.” It was a lot to take in—my mother, my engagement, Chandler. A moment to process wasn’t a bad idea.
“I’ll tell everyone you need a few minutes alone.” She left, and I stood in the dark, just breathing. Full, deep breaths, letting my head go empty. It wasn’t something I was good at—my mind had always been overactive. But I’d gotten better at it since…well, since JC had taught me how to set myself free, usually during sex. Occasionally I found I could do it without an orgasm too. Now wasn’t exactly one of those times—there was still too much spinning in my brain—but after a bit, my shoulders relaxed, and the knot of emotions in my stomach eased.
Eventually, the windows at the opposite side of the room beckoned me toward them. I didn’t go beyond the desk, not wanting to disturb Hudson’s work area. I didn’t need to go any farther to see the view anyway, which was incredible. The glass ran from floor to ceiling and reminded me of a time JC had fucked me against the windows at the Four Seasons. The Pierce library probably wasn’t quite as thrilling of a location for sex, I decided, since it overlooked Central Park. It didn’t feel like people might be looking in, which was half the excitement.
I also decided that floor-to-ceiling windows were on the must-have list for our condo.
Footsteps sounded on the floor behind me. I recognized them without having to turn around, and when JC wrapped an arm around me, I was ready for it.
What I wasn’t ready for was his other hand to slide under my skirt, nudge aside my panties and push inside me.
My breath caught.
His mouth was at my ear, and I could feel his hot exhale before he began speaking. “You know, even though I love you, I still want to do dirty things to you.”
Even if he hadn’t been stroking my innermost parts at that moment, I was pretty sure I’d be wet from his words alone. I wanted to hear more.
But we were in someone else’s house, a group of people just in the other room. I should have been stopping him, not fantasizing about what other dirty things he’d want to do to me. Not bucking into his hand as his fingers curled against the sensitive walls of my pussy.
Desire won out.
“Like what?” I asked, my voice already raw and unsteady.
He didn’t hesitate to answer. “Instead of my fingers fucking you, it would be my cock.”
Unf.
“And I wouldn’t go easy on you. Even though your friends and family are just in the other room, I’d fuck you hard, and you’d have a really tough time being quiet. But I wouldn’t care. Because they aren’t my friends—yet. And they’re not my family yet. And I wouldn’t give a shit if they knew what we were doing, but I know you would. So you’d try really hard to be silent, which I would see as a challenge, and I’d just fuck you harder.”
He added another finger and increased his tempo, and I had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t moan.
“And the whole time I was fucking you, I’d have a hold of your throat.” He moved his other hand up my body to splay his palm across my neck. “Like this. Every now and then I’d apply just a bit of pressure.” He pushed down slightly. “It’s not a lot, see? But it’s enough to make it feel like you can’t get enough air. And you’d struggle. And that would be a big turn-on for me.”
Holy fucking shit! My heart was pounding and my hands sweaty, and I wasn’t far from coming all over his hand, and he hadn’t even touched my clit. But Jesus. What he’d said? It was so hot. So incredibly hot and dirty and the tiniest bit scary and all I could think was more, more, more.
I wanted him like that. Wanted him like that right then. “You want to do that to me now?”
“Yes.” His answer was so low, so primal, so threadbare, and I knew all he needed was permission.
The words were out before I could think another second about the reasons that we shouldn’t. “Why don’t you then?”
His fingers left my cunt instantly. “Without turning around, put your arms around my neck. Don’t let go.”
I did as he said, clasping my hands together so they’d stay. The position stretched my torso and made my breasts push forward, made my taut nipples sting as they brushed against the fabric of my shirt.
“While I was gone, I thought about all the things I want to do to you. Thought about them in detail.” He gathered my skirt up as he talked, then tucked it into my waistband. “I also thought about all the times we were together. About how I fucked you. About your sounds and how you felt around my cock.”
Now I could hear him undoing his belt, and then there was the distinct sound of a zipper. I squeezed my thighs together, the ache for him so intense that I couldn’t wait for him to give me the relief.
“I remembered everything so vividly, Gwen, that I’d barely
have to touch myself to get off.” One hand settled at my hip, and I could imagine him behind me, stroking his cock, getting harder. “But as well as I remembered it, it still takes me by surprise when I get inside you. Because I knew you felt good.” He paused to shove inside me with a blunt stroke that raised me to my toes. “But fuck, Gwen, nothing feels this good.”
No, nothing feels this good.
He followed through as he said he would, his tempo immediately rapid, his thrusts hard and punishing. His hand returned to my neck, and he lightly pressed it as he gave his next orders. “No talking. Not a sound. But I need you to listen.”
I nodded, immediately regretting it since the movement increased the pressure at my throat. I could still breathe easily, but his clutch was tight enough to make me feel bound. Make me feel an edge of nervousness that zipped through my entire body and scared goose bumps to the surface of my skin.
“You’re mine, Gwen.” His voice was rough, punctuated with the drive of his cock. “No matter what you’ve done or who you’ve been with, you belong to me.”
I shivered, my body feeling simultaneously hot and cold. I was his. He’d claimed me, and every part of me blazed with his declaration, burned like he’d branded me with a hot iron.
But there was a cold sting that accompanied the flare of heat. Because I knew where this was coming from. Knew that this was about the guy in the other room. Knew that JC didn’t mind if the others heard, because he actually wanted Chandler to hear.
The realization was sobering.
It also caused my orgasm to escalate a million degrees, taking me near the brink of its explosion.
JC continued to pound into me, continued to claim me as his. “I’m the one who will be here in the morning and every morning after that. It’s my cock that fits perfectly inside your pussy. It’s me who knows what you need and how to make you come, and I’m going to be the one who makes you come now and for the rest of your life.”
My climax was so close, and I was already struggling for air when JC increased the pressure at my neck. Instinctively, I squirmed.
He only held me tighter. Only fucked me harder. “Come for me if you understand that you’re mine, Gwen.”
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