Cutting Cords

by Mickie B. Ashling

  I knew I’d have to overcome this personal hurdle if I wanted to win his heart. I could feel his admiration and respect, but the deep connection was impeded by this one obstacle. I’d always been introspective, and there were times when this characteristic frustrated Sloan, who was the most verbal and honest person I’d ever met. My insistence on holding back often left Sloan feeling rejected, which was the last thing I wanted. Still, it would be a monumental task to divulge the reason I had issues with anal sex. On the other hand, what kind of relationship was this if I couldn’t share my misgivings?

  “I’ll do it in a scene,” I said, blurting out the words before I could change my mind.

  “What scene?”

  “We’ll discuss it at a later time. Let’s talk about something I want for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Tying you up and dripping hot wax all over you,” I growled into his ear, making Sloan shiver in anticipation. “Then I’m going to cut my name into your shoulder with that lovely new knife you gave me for Christmas.”

  Sloan gasped and closed his eyes. I did the same, picturing the hot wax dripping over my boy’s legs and torso, along with a trickle of blood. Instead of freaking him out, Sloan was on the verge of coming. “Please, Master, suck me?” Sloan begged beautifully, sending signals straight to my groin. Mentioning the knife play was a stroke of genius. It was still Sloan’s preferred method of achieving subspace whenever we did an official “scene,” and I wanted to accommodate my sub as much as possible. A happy Sloan was a wanton and uninhibited sex toy, and I loved this side of him.

  Sloan’s hands were imprisoned above his head, but his legs were free, and he bent them, bracing himself on the bed. He dug in his heels, lifted his hips, and began thrusting in and out of my mouth, fiercely aroused by my vivid description of a future scene. I turned so my ass was in Sloan’s face. Spreading out, with one knee on either side of Sloan’s torso, I offered up a part of my body that I usually guarded closely. I moaned when Sloan lifted his head and began to tongue my hole with abandon. I loved this, and yet I always pulled away at the last minute. The thought of Sloan breaching me made me clench automatically, but it also made me dizzy with lust. I wanted to experience that hot burst of heat while Sloan fucked me raw and claimed me in a way like no other. It was a tantalizing goal I’d set for myself that had yet to be achieved. That vision increased the pleasure as I continued to suck Sloan’s cock, pushing me toward orgasm, and I spent in a warm splash across Sloan’s chest even as my mouth filled with my boy’s massive load.

  After I released the bindings and threw the cuffs on the nightstand, I took Sloan into my arms and held him tightly.

  “You realize,” Sloan whispered, toying with my nipples, “I’m going to be in a state of high arousal until we do the scene you talked about.”

  “I know.”

  “When is this happening?”

  “Don’t be impatient, and stop doing that or I’ll never get out of here.”

  “Why are you having a business meeting on New Year’s Day, anyhow?”

  “Max set this up with a new Dom who has some disposable income he’d like to invest. I’d be stupid to pass it up.”

  “I guess. Now back to my question.”

  I pushed Sloan’s hand away from my erect nubs. “I know you can hardly wait.”

  “I don’t want you to feel obligated, sir,” Sloan said, emphasizing the word. He continued to question the titles I’d demanded but used them because they pleased me. “The last thing I want from you is a pity fuck.”

  “It won’t be.”

  “Good… can we set a date?”

  “You’re a persistent shit. You know that?”

  “One of my better traits,” Sloan admitted. “I like to set goals.”

  “Me too,” I agreed. “How about next weekend?”

  “You promise?”

  “We’ll go out to Montauk and do it in a scene.”

  “Raw?”

  “I think we’re both ready to throw away the condoms.”

  Sloan buried his face against my neck. “Thank you, sir.”

  Freddie Mercury interrupted our special moment, vocalizing angst through the small instrument beside the bed. “Fuck that phone!” I said, losing my patience. “Pick it up and see what that bastard wants, then delete the goddamn song!”

  Sloan crawled over me and lifted the much-maligned instrument off the nightstand. My mood had turned black, and I would have cheerfully thrown the phone out the window, but I knew it would start a huge fight. Sighing dramatically, he said, “Hello, Cole.”

  Chapter 2

  THE SOUND of silence was a welcome respite after the incessant ringing that started ten minutes ago. First it was Mom, telling me to get over to the hospital as soon as possible, followed shortly by Noriko, breathlessly calling in between contractions. “Please come, Cole. They want to operate.” I rubbed both hands over my face in frustration. What did these women think a sightless man was going to accomplish by showing up―moral support when I could barely keep it together?

  Christmas carols were playing loudly somewhere in the building, a final hurrah to the holiday season on this last day of December. Most people were already anticipating the credit card bills that would begin falling through their mail slots like the confetti that was about to rain on Times Square. I picked up my flip phone and toyed with it, wondering if I should call Sloan again. I don’t know why he popped into my head. We’d been apart for nine months, and yet, my first reaction was to share the news. My hand drifted over to the other side of the bed, mindlessly seeking the man I’d discarded so carelessly. The empty space was a stark reminder that he was no longer in my life. I knew I deserved it, but that didn’t make it any less painful. Sloan had called me a two-faced lying motherfucker, and he was right. My arrogance and insensitivity had left no wiggle room and not a chance for forgiveness. How was I going to survive? Hours, days, and weeks of this overpowering ache had not faded with time. On the contrary, each day had brought fresh reminders of my loss.

  Still, I wondered what today would have been like if I’d done the right thing and had included Sloan in all the decisions from the very beginning. He’d be thrilled that the boys were about to be born and a little freaked that we wouldn’t get there in time or know what to do once the nurses put them in our arms. Improbable scenarios played through my head, dreams that had died because I didn’t appreciate Sloan when I had him. My terrible choices had sheared off a piece of my heart, leaving me adrift from the only person in my life who had ever given me unconditional love and unfailing honesty.

  After months of anticipation, the great event that had caused this irreparable rift was about to commence. I prayed that the timely arrival of my children would make every wrong decision right. Noriko was in premature labor at Mt. Sinai Hospital while Dad lay on his deathbed, somewhere in the same building. What irony. The man who’d orchestrated this entire chain of events wouldn’t be around long enough to enjoy the fruits of his labor. Instead, I would be left to deal with it on my own. Already my life had begun a downward spiral, and although Mom and my sisters had run interference for me these last few months, I could no longer manage. I was overwhelmed and felt completely useless, just as Sloan had predicted. The worst part of it was that I had no one to blame but myself.

  MOM MET Freddie and me in the lobby of the world-renowned medical facility and hustled us into the elevator, which took us to the maternity floor. Noriko was resting comfortably, I was told, after the delivery of the twins via Cesarean section. The boys were a respectable size, a little under four pounds, although one weighed about six ounces more than the other. The doctors were happy with the birth weight and only kept them in the incubators as a precaution because they were two weeks early.

  “Have you seen them?”

  “They’re perfect,” Mom said, reassuring me.

  “You say that about all your grandkids, Mom.”

  “These two are special, Cole. I can’t wait u
ntil your dad sees them.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  She sighed mournfully. “He can barely talk, but he can certainly hear and see your boys. The doctor said we could wheel them into his room in about thirty minutes.”

  “Do you think that’s safe?”

  “I was told it would be okay for the babies to be outside of the incubators for a few minutes at a time.”

  “I wish Dad was strong enough to hang on a few more months.”

  “The important thing is that the twins are here and they’re healthy. That’s all that mattered to him.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I said bitterly. “Do they favor me or Noriko?”

  “They have dark hair and fair skin. Their eyes are closed, so that part is still a mystery.”

  “I don’t care what color their eyes are so long as they work.”

  “Cole, you know they won’t have the RP gene.”

  “Intellectually, I know. Emotionally, I won’t rest until the doctors assure me that they can see.”

  “They’ll be fine. Have you and Noriko decided on names?”

  “Kenneth and Nicholas.”

  “Nicholas?”

  “It’s the holiday season, Mom, or have you forgotten? It’s also Sloan’s middle name.”

  “Oh, Cole… that’s over, isn’t it?”

  “He and I talked about names years ago, and these were two that we both liked. I didn’t see the need to change.”

  “Isn’t Sloan involved with that model he met in London?”

  “What if he is?” I snapped, stopping her before she said anything more. “I have to talk to Noriko.”

  “She’s this way,” Mom said, guiding me toward the room and stopping in front of the door. “Freddie and I will wait for you right here.”

  I knocked and pushed the door open almost simultaneously. “May I?”

  “Of course,” Noriko replied. “Thank you for coming, Cole.”

  “Don’t thank me, for heaven’s sake. It’s the least I can do. How are you feeling?”

  “Much better now that they’re out.”

  “Have you seen them?”

  “Briefly.”

  “They’re wheeling them into Dad’s room later. Would you like to join us?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I walked toward her voice and stopped at the foot of the bed. “Mom said the boys are beautiful.”

  “Hai… like their father.”

  “Don’t be so modest. You’re a very attractive woman, from everything I’ve been told.”

  “Not attractive enough for you,” she said softly.

  “Noriko, let’s not start this conversation again.”

  “I’m sorry. I had hoped you’d come to see me as more than your surrogate.”

  “I never lied about my needs or my orientation.”

  “Yet you came to my bed willingly that one time. Was it because of the mizuage? Did you feel it was your duty?”

  Christ! I didn’t need this on top of everything else. “I don’t know why I slept with you. It was wrong on so many levels.”

  “Did you not find pleasure in my body?”

  “Of course I did, but there was no connection between us.”

  “Maybe if you had tried again we would have found that special place.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I’m sorry you feel this way.”

  “So am I.”

  “What happens now, Cole?”

  “We proceed with our plan. You and I will stay married until the boys are a year old, and then you’re free to go.”

  “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

  “We have a contract that terminates our relationship in one year.”

  “And if I choose to stay?”

  “In America?”

  “With you.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I can if I contest the divorce.”

  I heard the words and remembered Sloan’s dire predictions. What if she changes her mind? “What’s this about, Noriko? We have an agreement in writing.”

  “Agreements are made to be broken.”

  “Not in my world.”

  “We’ll see.”

  I could hear the determination in her voice, and a frisson of fear skittered up my spine. No!

  “I don’t think you understand the legalities involved, Noriko. Our contract is ironclad.”

  “I’m not going to be discarded like yesterday’s rice,” she argued.

  “Who’s talking about discarding? You will be treated with the highest respect and will have access to your sons whenever you’re in town.”

  “And if I want to take them back to Japan?”

  “That’s out of the question.”

  “I’m their mother,” she said heatedly. “I know I have certain rights, regardless of any contract.”

  “Why are you reneging on the deal?”

  “Renege?”

  “Stop pretending you don’t understand English. I know damn well you’ve been taking classes and can probably run rings around most of the other students.”

  “I am not familiar with the word ‘renege’.”

  “It means breaking a promise, Noriko! One you made to my family nine months ago. Why are you changing your mind now?”

  “I like being Noriko Fujiwara.”

  “You can keep the name, and you’ll have more money than you’ve ever had in your life. What else do you want?”

  “I want to be your wife and an active mother to my children.”

  “Jesus.” I spun around and walked out, ignoring her raised voice asking me to stay. Mom must have heard because she grabbed me as soon as I walked out the door and apologized in a loud whisper.

  “Cole, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault that she’s a lying bitch.”

  “I had no idea Noriko felt so strongly about this.”

  “Dad found and interviewed her, Mother. What was he thinking?”

  “We thought this would be the perfect solution for everyone involved.”

  “Apparently, the only person who had a bad feeling about this was Sloan, and I chose to ignore him. I can’t believe this is happening!”

  “She’ll come around.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Give it time, Cole. She’s hormonal right now.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Settle down or you’ll upset your father. He doesn’t need to know any of this.”

  “He should, since it’s entirely his fault.”

  “You had the option to say no.”

  “Really? You know damn well that Dad wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I was too stupid to realize that my partner had better instincts than anyone else in my family. Now I’m stuck, and I’ve lost Sloan on top of everything else.”

  “Please don’t bring this up in front of your dad. Let him die in peace.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said, determined to get through today without any more drama. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door that led to my father’s private room. The loud hissing of the monitors that were hooked up to a million different probes reminded me that my dad was gravely ill, and I bent down and kissed him on the cheek. His skin was dry and felt cold to the touch, as if he were already dead. I couldn’t see what he looked like, but I knew he’d lost a tremendous amount of weight, and his sunken cheeks were stark reminders of his disease. “Your grandsons are alive and well, Dad.”

  He clutched my hand with icy fingers. “Thank you, Cole.” His voice was ragged from the radiation, and I could barely hear him.

  “Don’t thank me, Dad, thank Noriko. All I did was supply the sperm.”

  He squeezed my hand again and sighed. Mom moved a little closer. “Do you want to see the boys?”

  “What are their names?”

  “Kenny and Nicky, right, Cole?”

  “That’s right. If Kenny is anything like his grandfather, he’ll grow up to be a hell of a ballplayer.”

  “A
nd Nicky?” Dad asked.

  “He can be anything he wants,” I said quietly. Even gay.

  The door opened, and Mom squealed when they wheeled the babies into the room. They were in separate Isolettes, even though we were assured their lungs were almost fully developed and they could go home in a few days.

  “I want to see my boys.”

  I could hear the happiness in my father’s voice, and all my regrets were put aside for the moment. Knowing he’d die a happy man was worth all the loneliness I’d endured over the last nine months and whatever legal battles I’d have to face in the future.

  I heard Dad ask, “Which one is Kenny?”

  “I have no idea,” I said, stunned by the reality of my statement. How on earth was I going to tell them apart? “I’ll have to buy them some kind of jewelry so I can keep track of who’s who.”

  “Go to Tiffany,” Dad said, “and get them something nice.”

  “That sounds like a good plan, Dad.”

  “Can I decide who my namesake is?”

  “May as well, I sure can’t.”

  “Let’s name the bigger one after me.”

  Any decision I didn’t have to make sounded great right now. I turned toward the voice of the nurse and asked, “Is it okay if we hold them?”

  “Certainly.” She placed a baby in my arms, and I presumed the other child was handed to my dad. I would have given anything to see my sons, but I had to be content with kissing the soft bundle. “He’s so tiny.”

  “He’ll catch up to his brother within weeks,” the nurse replied. “I’ve no doubt these two will be little bruisers. Their mother has a wonderful supply of milk.”

  “She’s breast feeding?”

  “Yes, sir. That’s what it says on their card.”

  “Let’s switch,” Dad said. They took the bundle from my arms and replaced it with another. I noticed immediately that this baby felt heavier. “Christ, how will I keep them straight?”