“Alright, I’ll be honest with you, Kit,” I confess. “I considered letting your mom help me expand Zephyr Brothers, but in the end I didn’t go through with it. I wanted to come back to you.” I tangle my fingers in her hair and drag her mouth back down to mine, passionately kissing her. I know I should continue, tell her that though I wanted to come back, I couldn’t. I should say she has a brighter future ahead without me, but my mouth won’t say those words.
Instead, a lusty moan flows from my mouth to hers as my pelvis juts forward to scrape my throbbing cock against her body. She grips her thighs tighter around me with a yelp of pleasure.
I gasp when her hand sweeps down my chest and abs, down to my crotch. Her dainty fingers tighten around my shaft through my jeans to give it a titillating squeeze. She runs her open palm up and down the thick, corded ridge of my manhood, massaging and stroking me until I whimper her name at the teasing. “I’ve missed you so much,” I repeat, kissing her, sucking at her mouth. My hands close around her neck. Kit rises and falls above me as if riding me, regardless of the clothes that keep us from going all the way.
I don’t stop her when she unbuckles my belt, unfastens my pants. My swollen, engorged cock springs free, and I bite back a cry when her warm fingers trace down its length. “There’s something else I have to tell you about my past,” I blurt out. She rubs the pad of her thumb across my lips to silence me.
“Shh…I don’t want to talk about the past. I just want to make you feel better. That’s all.” Her sultry voice drops an octave, arousing. “You need this,” she accurately assesses.
“No, Kit, I need you to know. Before we go any further.”
She strokes up and down, pumping and squeezing. “Show me,” she steals a page from my book.
“What are you talking about? I’m trying to tell you that I used to be a criminal!” I grimace, groan. My head drops back, and I rest on my elbows. I clench my bottom lip between my teeth as I try to hold back to make sure she understands what I’m saying to her, but my hips begin to rise and fall in tandem with the tug of her hand, and my cock throbs in her grasp, pulsating, quivering, ready to be put to use. The tension mounts, the pleasure expanding like ripples across a still lake, until the sensation becomes lapping waves that overtake me. “Ah!”
“Is it a crime to be in love with me, Jayson? Have you been a bad boy? Do you deserve to be punished?” Kit gives a sultry moan.
“Why aren’t you listening to me?” I cover my face with my hands. None of this makes sense. It suddenly occurs to me that I don’t remember how I got to Kitrina’s house. The last thing I remember is chatting with Castiel about putting my work ahead of everything, then him storming off cause he thought I was a fool to stay away from Kit.
I’m dreaming. I swear colorfully at the realization. It’s all just a dream. She isn’t here. I haven’t told her anything. I should’ve known everything was happening too easily.
With eyes shut, I don’t see Kit lowering her hot, wet mouth, but when the humid oasis envelops my entire erection, an anguished exclamation of wonder erupts. “Ah! Ah, Kitrina!” I fist her hair and surge deeper into her perfect mouth, paralyzed by the unexpected ecstasy. Trembling and on edge, I hold her there.
But, she shakes her head free and begins to expertly fellate me. Each time she swallows me down, my body convulses. She releases me inch by inch, only to replace her tight mouth with her tight grasp. Her fingers get silky with saliva as she uses her hands and mouth to suck me, stroke me. She makes such greedy sounds of excitement, as usual as aroused by the act as I am. I jerk and spasm like a snake charmed by how she plays the pipe.
Slow and steady, I try to keep in mind. If this is a dream, I want to drag this thing out. But, this is a dream, and my defenses are completely broken down. There is no holding back. The tempo becomes rushed and hurried. Before I can stop myself, slow and steady becomes forceful, fast thrusts in and out of her pleasurable mouth, and Kit groans happy encouragement around the bulging mouthful. “You don’t know how much I’ve been craving the taste of you,” she breaks free with a gasp.
These words arouse me even more. When she stops to say that, I pull away, ready to bust. She wrests my cock from my grasp, her head dancing up and down again. I stammer, “Yes, like that, fuck, yes!” My eyes pop open as I try hard not to come yet. I see fireworks in the dark bedroom. I see nirvana.
It’s a losing battle. I feel the explosion detonate in my groin. “Kit! Kitrina, get back!” I cry a warning. I manage to push her away just in time as my steamy jizz erupts in a copious shower of satisfaction, free flowing from my jerking shaft. I squeeze my eyes shut, crying out. Kit rubs her hands all over my quivering cock, continuing to masturbate me with the evidence of my release. I gasp as I feel myself getting hard all over again. She feels so good.
I inhale and exhale, a harsh sound after the music of moans of pleasure. Knowing I could wake up any second, I stare into her face, reveling in the simple pleasure of seeing her. It’s been nearly two months. I have the urge to once again tell her that I miss her, but the words are empty in this place.
“I don’t want to blink. I don’t want to move too fast. I don’t want you to fade away.”
Her image flickers in response. I whisper, “Please, don’t leave me.”
“Do you really think something as intangible as what happened in your youth could get between what we share, Jayson Zephyr? All you ever had to do was talk to me. I only wanted the truth.”
“I know.” I kiss her lips, a gentle exploration of her mouth. I allow her to wrap her arms around my neck. I pull her down into bed with me, and we come together like teenagers. My hand eases under her short shirt to fondle her small, perfect breasts. Kit whispers my name in pleasure and presses her throbbing little pussy against my thigh, grinding against me eagerly. When I tentatively reach down to touch her between the legs, I discover she’s not wearing any panties. She’s wet and tight, which sends a surge of blood to my shaft.
With an aroused hum, I roll her onto her back with Kit panting in my ear for me to fuck her. I thrust deep and hard into her receptive body. She lets out a scream of pleasure. I grip her hips and stroke her punishingly. Grunting with exertion, I pound into her, harder and harder. She gets all my lust. She wraps her legs around my waist and writhes against me, her slick, silky sheath stroking me.
Her sex is amazing. I feel it about to happen. “Now,” she moans. I reach down between our bodies and caress her clit. “Now, now, now!” She lets out a long, loud shout as her orgasm strikes, and I feel her soaking wet pussy rain more nectar around my erection. I get drenched in the deluge, and it’s all it takes to send me over the edge, too.
I squeeze my eyes shut, burying my face against her neck. In the disorienting blaze of passion, I gasp and cry out. “Kitrina!”
I come awake with a start. Hand closed around my erection, I semiconsciously finish the act. An intense orgasm powers through me, leaving me breathless with sheer shock at waking up like that. I look down at the mess I’ve made and shake my head with embarrassment as I get out of bed and amble to the master bathroom for a shower.
I get a strong urge to call her, right now, regardless of the hour. The right words to say are on the tip of my tongue. I need to tell her I’m sorry for deceiving her and get the crazy idea I was seeing someone else out of her head. All the confusion centers on my criminal past. I don’t have to hide that from her anymore. Maybe she’ll understand.
I try to be optimistic; however, Mrs. Schneider’s disturbing story replays in my mind. I picture her husband being run down by a drunk driver, and my tenuous hope for Kit’s understanding slinks away. There isn’t a chance in hell Kitrina will forgive me.
As I stand under the spray of lukewarm water, I wash away the evidence of my nocturnal fantasy. And, just like that, I resolve to wash Kitrina out of my system, out of my head. Though I should be able to rest easier knowing my absence leads to fewer complications for her, I climb back into my king-sized bed wondering if she’ll ever again b
e the sweet, naively romantic young girl again after what happened between us. What kind of woman is she, now that she knows the truth about love? Love hurts.
That’s why I avoided it for long. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” I murmur through my exhaustion. There are other things that require my attention. I’m excited about a phone call with Mr. Thorenson earlier in the day that cemented a manageable loan and sizeable investment, without Candace’s help. Zephyr Brothers Construction will be breaking ground this week to add on to our existing warehouse. We have an influx of well-qualified new professionals. Plus, I have a wealthy new client to meet with in Pacific Heights tomorrow. There are deals to be made first thing in the morning. So, there’s no good reason to be up in the middle of the night pining after Kit.
I start to drift off again, my thoughts taking a different turn now. It was pretty shitty of her to immediately jump to conclusions when she heard me on the phone with Castiel, to assume I was seeing someone else. I realize that in that moment, I felt betrayed by her, judged. I was feeling pretty raw anyway, that night, having just learned about my real father. Her mistrust struck deep. How much did that effect my decision to not explain?
Chapter 38
JAYSON
I stare at the address hastily scribbled on a napkin and look back up at the imposing thirteen-story sandstone building stuck in the middle of a row of similarly important-looking establishments. I’m definitely not in the small business district. “You there?”
“Yeah, Castiel. I think I found the place. Listen, I’m not gonna be here long. When I get done talking with him I’ll swing back by the new job site out in Pacific Heights. You just hold down the fort for me until I get there.”
“Will do, boss. Hey, don’t get arrested out there. If things get ugly, hightail it.”
I hang up the cell phone with a dry laugh. Before I can lose my nerve, I shove the truck door open and climb out. “Things won’t get ugly,” I murmur to myself. Because I won’t let them. I’m here at the office building of my childhood friend, my half-brother, Lamont Stephens. No one else can tell me what went wrong between us, and I don’t intend to leave until I’ve spoken with him.
As I walk up to the entrance, I watch men and women in designer suits going in and out of the double-height revolving door, and suddenly the slacks and flannel shirt under the bomber jacket I wore to work today don’t seem fancy enough.
I should’ve stopped at home to change, I think nervously. Then, I think about what I’m saying. Change for what? I’d still be the same person under the clothes. I shake my head at myself, bothered by the mindset that seems to have rubbed off on me from Mrs. Schneider.
“May I help you?” asks a well-dressed executive assistant sitting behind a streamlined white wood and chrome desk. I clear my throat.
“Is Mr. Stephens in?”
“Do you have an appointment?” she consults her computer. I look down and answer honestly.
“I don’t but I imagine he may want to see me anyway. Can you let him know Jayson Zephyr is here?”
She gestures politely towards a comfortable looking waiting area tucked away in the corner, and I stroll over to plush leather armchairs and have a seat while she makes a call. The only reason it’s taken me this long to seek him out is that I had to come to terms with the fact that my whole childhood was a lie. Yea, Momma had her reasons, but…the man who had raised me wasn’t my real father. My brothers were only half brothers. That felt bad until I talked things out with them and they made it clear that even if my dad had been a space alien, I’d be 100 percent their brother. Their reaction made me want to fix things with Lamont. He’s family now. That's the bottom line. Even if he did screw me over royally.
I wait a full fifteen minutes before the neatly-coiffed assistant says my name again barely above a whisper. I look up and see her beckon for me. “Is he ready for me?” I ask hopefully when I walk back over to her desk. But she shakes her head with a half-smile, and I get the impression she made me wait for nothing.
KITRINA
I turn up the radio and let the windows down so the late winter breeze can cut through the car. The wind whips long strands of white blonde hair around my face that I flick back as I sing along to the loud, jaunty pop music while Grace gleefully dances in the passenger seat. We’re en route to my mom’s house to celebrate acing midterms. All is right with my world.
The radio announcer introduces the next song. “Wrapping up another cuffing season, keep it locked in to your station for the sound of spring break.”
“Spring break right around the corner! Woot woot!” Grace hoots. I briefly let the wheel go to throw my hands up with an excited howl and throw my head back, giggling. “Watch the road!” my best friend orders with a hearty laugh, trying to hold the wheel steady for me. I turn my attention back to driving.
“I can’t believe this semester is almost halfway done,” I reply. A satisfied grin rests on my lips as I scan the view of Pacific Heights from the driver’s seat of my Fiat. “Two and a half more months. Come May, I’ll be back in my own house, and I’ll spend the entire summer making sure I never have to walk away from it again. Financial stability is the game plan.”
“High five!” Grace exclaims.
I swerve slightly to avoid a truck backing out into the road. Squinting, I think I recognize the company logo. “Isn’t that…?” I slow the Fiat.
Grace casually glances back as we pass. “Oh, yeah. Cast told me the guys had a job in your mom’s neighborhood. I forgot all about that,” she states unconvincingly. I give her a look and Gracie studiously avoids eye contact with me, suddenly very interested in her zodiac sign nail decoration. “Hey, why don’t you pull over and let me say hi to Cast right quick? It’ll only take a sec!”
I laugh and point out the obvious. “You can call him!” But, I decelerate to a slow crawl and watch the Zephyr Brothers Construction truck—a much bigger company truck than I remember from almost five months ago. I spy scaffolding up around an aging estate in need of a facelift. Business must be picking up for them, I note with pleasure.
Gracie asking me to pull over has nothing to do with her saying hi to Castiel. They talk nearly twenty-four hours a day. I’m sure she’s hoping I run into Jayson, but I don’t want to see—who am I kidding? I’d give my left arm to see him. It’s been months since I heard his voice. I haven’t been able to get him out of my head, and the way my heart skipped beats at the sight of a Zephyr Brothers truck is testimony enough. I’m not over him, no matter what I tell myself.
“Grace Evans, you conniver,” I mutter with a wry shake of my head. “No wonder you insisted on riding home with me instead of taking your own vehicle.”
Grace giggles shamelessly. “No need for name calling. You’ll thank me later. There comes a time when a best friend must do for her bestie what her bestie doesn’t have the balls to do for herself. Now, get out of the car and go back there and see if he’s here.” I groan. “Do it for me. Please?”
With conflicting feelings, I peer through the rearview mirror as I reluctantly parallel park in front of the house of Mrs. Lipschitz, one of my mom’s friends who was there at the Christmas Eve party when my mother nearly disowned me for dating the sexy contractor who turned my world upside down. I leave the car idling in case I change my mind because I know I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t get out and walk back there to that house to see if Jayson’s there. What if he is there? What do I say to him?
Time has dulled the anger, leaving nothing but pain and confusion—and an unshakeable longing for the man I miss so much—in its wake. I have a thousand questions for Jayson. Most of all, I wonder if he thinks of me as much as I think of him. It seems the separation was good for both of us. I’m passing my classes, have a stress-free side job, still own my house. His business seems to be picking up the kind of clientele he wanted and, judging by the truck, he’s doing well. So, where do we even fit in each other’s lives now?
“Grace, I dunno. I think I better just leave we
ll enough alone,” I mutter dejectedly. “If Jayson wants to see me, he knows how to get in touch—.”
“Ooh, look, Castiel spotted us! He’s coming over now!” Grace whispers excitedly. Her eyes light up as she watches the attractive younger Zephyr boy close the distance from the work site to my car.
“What? Oh my god, Grace! I am going to kill you,” I hiss.
“Hey, remember that striptease you set up for me for Christmas? Let’s just say this is payback.”
Chapter 39
JAYSON
“I’m sorry, Mr. Zephyr. Mr. Stephens indicated that he is not available to see you today. You can try calling later to make an appointment. Have a nice day!”
An irritated tic starts below my left eye as the assistant at Lamont Stephen’s office dismissively turns back to her computer. I look around and spy the brass nameplate with his name on it. “I think I’ll just pop in and say hi to him anyway, if you don’t mind.” I march toward his door.
“Sir, you can’t go in there!” she calls after me.
“Too late,” I mutter as I turn the knob and shove it inward.
“Mr. Stephens! Mr. Stephens, I am so sorry. I told him you weren’t available. Do you want me to call security?”
“That’s quite alright, Marshay,” says Lamont. He rises from a high-backed leather chair behind a massive black desk and comes toward me with a benevolent smile and arms open, looking for all the world like a long-lost friend. “Jayson, buddy, I was expecting you.”
“Yet you weren’t available to see me today? Hmm. Convenient.” I glare at the assistant and back at Lamont. “Look, I need to talk to you,” I cut to the chase.
He inclines his head and his assistant ducks out of his office. I take a look around the aesthetically appealing space. With its thick dark carpet and deep brown paneled walls, elegance and modernity meet. Sleek black leather loveseat and club chairs rest on a slate grey rug. The desk is teak, backed by floor to ceiling bookshelves, and he has one wall made entirely of windows. It’s an impressive office, which ironically gives me a deep sense of satisfaction to see. The accoutrements of Lamont’s success, so different from the place where we were raised—we’ve both come a long way.
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