by M. S. Parker
“I love you,” I whispered against her neck.
She shivered, a soft sigh escaping her. “I love you, too.”
Forty
Raye
My apartment looked like Christmas had exploded all over it.
I didn’t know how long it would take to clean everything up, but I didn’t care. I’d just spent my first Christmas with Kane – and with Jake, Michelle, and Kane’s family. It had been the best Christmas of my life, and it wasn’t even over.
Kane stood up amid all the boxes and bags, striding over to sit next to me on the couch. “There’s barely room for me here with all this stuff,” he said, a rueful grin on his lips. “I think Jake tried to make up for more than twenty Christmases in one year.”
“I’ll make room for it all.” I smiled at him. Silently, I agreed with him. My brother had gone above and beyond, but I wasn’t going to complain. I’d been a little spoiled this past year between Kane and Jake, and I kind of loved it.
Having somebody fuss over me was something I’d never had, and now I had two guys doing it, my lover and my brother.
“I can’t decide who got more spoiled by my family this year…you, or the little kids.” Kane cupped the back of my neck, rubbing his thumb up and down my skin, sending shivers through me.
“Oh, that’s easy. It was Dinah’s little girl.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “There was no question. Did you see all the clothes Eddie and Rick bought for her? She’s going to be the best-dressed baby in New York City.”
“Dinah won’t have to go shopping for clothes for months,” he agreed.
Snuggling up against him, I closed my eyes, tired and drained, but in the best possible way. “I can’t believe Rick and Eddie are engaged now. They look stupid-happy.”
“Stupid-happy.” Kane rubbed his lips over the top of my head. “Is that a good thing?”
“Absolutely.” I yawned and stretched against him, craning my head back so I could meet his eyes. “And Nathaniel’s going to be a daddy again. He better start making bank if he’s going to feed all those mouths under his roof.”
Kane laughed. “He’ll handle it. That’s what he does.”
“Your mother looked over the moon. You’d think all the grandbabies she’s got would be enough, but hearing she’s going to have another was all the Christmas present she needed.”
“She loves being a grandma.” He cupped my cheek and dipped his head to mine. “Sometimes, I think she loves it more than she loves being a mom.”
He kissed me softly, but just as I started to respond, he lifted his head, looking down at me with an odd look in his eyes.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Just thinking about you…the past year.”
“Good thoughts?”
He pressed his brow to mine. “Nothing but.”
My heart flipped over at the look I saw in his eyes, and I curled my arms around his neck. “Why don’t you take me to bed and I’ll give you another Christmas present?” I told him.
I actually had one more for him, but now he had me thinking thoughts about naked skin and smooth sheets.
The other present could wait.
But instead of responding, he kissed me, then straightened.
He started to pace, and there seemed to be something oddly nervous about his movements. He paused here and there, picking up stray boxes or pieces of wrapping paper. “It’s a good thing we decided to have our Christmas at your place,” he said absently. “My apartment never would have held all of this.”
“That’s why we did it,” I reminded him. I barely had room for the big tree I’d wanted. It never would have fit into his place, although I did insist he get a tabletop sized version and we’d decorated it one night while eating pizza and watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas.
He nodded, still with that nervous, restless look on his face.
He hadn’t looked that nervous the night I’d graduated from college, just a few short weeks ago and he’d surprised me with a pearl necklace. I reached up and touched the strand now, wondering what had gotten into him. “What’s going on, Kane?”
“Nothing.” He turned and faced me, straightening his shoulders and taking a deep breath. He looked like he was bracing himself.
I eyed him warily as he came striding back toward me.
Then he sank down on one knee.
I sucked in a breath as he pulled a small black box out of his front pocket. “There’s one last present,” he said, his voice rough. Then he flipped it open and turned it to face me. “Will you marry me, Raye?”
For a few seconds, I couldn’t even think, much less answer.
Then, as the question finally sank in, I launched myself off the couch toward him, laughing and kissing him at the same time. “Yes.” Kiss. “Yes, yes.” Kiss. “Yes, absolutely yes.”
He grinned up at me from where he laid beneath me on the floor. “I take it that’s a yes.” He slid the ring onto my finger without even looking.
“Let me think…” I pursed my lips and cocked my head, lifting my hand so I could study it. “Hmmm…yes.”
He stood up, holding me effortlessly, but when he went to carry me over to the bed, I wiggled and pushed at him until he put me down.
“Hold on,” I insisted. Since he’d gone and given me one last present, it was time I give him his last present. “I’ve got something for you, too.”
I turned around and had to circumnavigate the piles of boxes and gift bags on my way over to my purse. Sliding him a sly look, I said, “You do know this means we should start looking for a new place to live.”
He opened, then closed his mouth. “Ah…maybe? Yeah. I guess.”
“No.” I shook my head, a thoughtful look on my face. “I’m pretty sure we’ll need to find a place…a bigger place.”
I tugged the card out of my purse and walked over to him, placing it in his hands.
“What’s this?”
“A Christmas card.” I grinned at him, wondering if he’d get it right away.
I had no idea, but I’d be more than happy to explain it to him. It had killed me to keep this a secret the past week.
He glanced at the card, then at me. “I didn’t know I was supposed to get you a card.”
I laughed at the panicked look in his eyes. “Oh, you weren’t!” I cupped his face in my hands. My new engagement ring sparkled back at me. Rising on my toes, I tugged him down for a kiss. “I just wanted to get you one. Now…open it.”
He looked a little self-conscious as he ripped it open.
Some of the confetti I’d stuffed inside spilled out, and he glanced down, frowning at the sparkle of pink and blue that hit the toes of his boots. He eyed it, then glanced back at the red and green card. When he opened the card, the rest of it fell out in a shower, raining all over the floor.
I grinned at him as he read it. I remembered exactly what I’d written.
There’s another present on the way. Should be here in just under eight months.
He read it, then closed his eyes, shaking his head a little. Then he read it a second time.
“What the…?”
His eyes slid to the confetti on the floor, all the pink and blue pacifiers that covered the toes of his boots and my threadbare carpet.
“Are you pregnant?” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
I nodded, suddenly nervous. What if he wasn’t happy? What if he blamed me for not realizing the antibiotics I’d taken for strep throat would KO my birth control pills?
He reached for me and hauled me up against him.
As his lips came down over mine, I sank into him, and he whispered against my mouth, “Merry Christmas.”
I smiled against his lips. “Merry Christmas to us both.
His hand splayed across my belly. “Merry Christmas to us all.”
Turn the page to continue the Big O Series with Pleasure Island.
Pleasure Island
“After serving four years in the army, I’m back home in Texas, but it
hasn’t taken me long to see that I don’t belong here anymore. Luckily, I heard that my cousin, Jake King, is now living in New York City, so I’ll join him there, hoping to put the past behind me. And, unlike most other twenty-two-year-old guys, the one thing I’m NOT looking for is romance. In fact, I’m planning on being celibate for the foreseeable future.”
One
Mila
“I don’t think I can do this.” The round, curvy blonde sitting on the couch next to her husband turned wide, panicked eyes on me.
I gave her a reassuring smile. “Come on, Cassie. It’s your husband, your best friend in the world, remember?”
Casting a glance at said best friend in the world, I hoped he’d learned to pick up on non-verbal cues, the way we discussed in our earlier sessions.
Martin Reed half-turned to his wife.
They’d been married for almost twenty years, and while it was clear they were still in love with each other, they were having problems sexually.
Which was why they’d come to me.
A sex specialist.
While what I offered was therapy, I sometimes employed methods the typical counselor would frown upon, and I’d wanted to set myself apart from them.
I’d always done things a little differently, job included.
Cassie cast me another helpless glance, then looked back at her husband. “I…um…well…” She took a deep breath and blurted out, “I think about things like…um…kinky stuff.”
Mentally, I sighed. Martin blinked, looking a little uncertain.
“Cassie, kink can cover a lot of things,” I said gently. “Maybe you should be more specific.”
She bit her lip and covered her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing.”
“This is nothing to be embarrassed about, Cass.” Martin leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple.
Good man. He’d just taken my line from me.
Cassie sniffed and reached up, touching her husband’s cheek. Then she swallowed and nodded. “It’s just a fantasy, you know. I don’t even know if I’d like it. But I’ve always kind of wanted to…dominate.”
She whispered the last word like it was something secret and forbidden.
Personally, I wasn’t surprised.
She’d dropped her chin to her chest as she spoke and now she wasn’t looking at anybody.
I was about to ask another question when Martin reached out and touched her cheek. “You want a pair of leather boots and a whip, sweetheart? You just made my heart stop.”
She giggled a little and darted a look at him. Then she sighed and closed her eyes, slumping in the plush, padded couch in my office like she no longer had the energy to sit up. “Wow. It felt kind of good to get that out.”
“That’s part of why we do this,” I said briskly. Shifting my attention to Martin, I asked, “What about you?”
He squirmed a little, looking uncomfortable. “I’m a typical guy. I’ve thought about a three-way with my wife – her and some other woman. I don’t want any guys intruding on my time with the ladies.” Then, out of the blue, he laughed and said, “At least that seemed to be the kinkiest thought I’d ever had up until Cass went and said she wanted to dominate.”
He slid his wife a look and reached out, resting a hand on her thigh.
Another breakthrough.
I was quite pleased.
With only thirty minutes before my next and last appointment of the day, I spent it enjoying a quick lunch at my desk while catching up on email and reviewing forms for an upcoming consult.
The forms, the paperwork, all of that was one of the less enjoyable aspects of my job, but a necessity.
As I finished my meal, I went back to my notes before my next couple came in.
I’d been seeing the Colliers for some time, and I was hoping for another positive session. It was time to move to the next level with this couple.
They’d been improving on communicating and engaging in more intimate, affectionate behavior, and I could see them growing closer. Sometimes, it took a couple a lot longer to get to this point, so I was pleased with the progress.
As my break wound down, I cleared my desk and slid into the bathroom to clean up.
The Colliers were sometimes early. I didn’t want them catching me with a ham and cheese sandwich in my mouth.
Matt Collier was still uncomfortable with my role.
It didn’t bother me.
Both he and his wife had fantasies that were more aligned than some of the couples who came to me, and Matt, the control freak that he was, would probably really get into the light bondage aspects of Amanda’s fantasy once he stopped focusing so much on me.
I was there as a guide, to help ease them through anything they might find awkward. As a middle-aged couple who’d been in love a long time, they’d fallen into a rut. Now, they’d all but stopped having sex altogether.
It was the lack of intimacy between them that had led to Amanda’s issues. She’d been having trouble climaxing for some time. That was what led them to me.
The longer it went on, the more it affected both of them. Matt for feeling like he wasn’t able to satisfy his wife, and Amanda for…well, obvious reasons.
Not being able to orgasm had to suck.
Matt shot me another look, and I gave him an encouraging smile. “It’s okay, Matt. This is a safe space.”
He shifted to where he couldn’t see me, and I saw some of the tension drain from his stiff shoulders.
Amanda was waiting behind the elegant privacy screen in the corner of my office. He took a deep breath and said her name. His eyes widened when she emerged from behind the privacy screen wearing a cute little French maid’s costume that she’d secretly bought but hadn’t ever worn before. Her cheeks were red, but she kept her attention focused on her husband.
As they fell into the scripted role-play I’d given them, I relaxed a little.
Clearly, they’d spent some time thinking about this session. It was entirely likely they wouldn’t need my guidance through the rest of our time together.
I never had sex with my clients, but getting involved, taking a more hands-on approach when needed was one thing that made my service different from the standard sex therapist.
While a lot of couples might eventually bridge that communication gap, many were nervous – too nervous – to take the next step and get involved in things like roleplaying, BDSM, and other various kinks.
I was there to help bridge that particular gap.
I remained silent as Matt ‘instructed’ Amanda – she was his new personal maid and she hadn’t done a good job cleaning his office. That was the set-up.
As she fluttered around ‘cleaning,’ Matt stumbled his way through the lines. A few times I saw his eyes coming my way.
I said nothing.
He became more relaxed and eventually fell into the ‘game.’
Amanda was already into it, and by the time it moved to the next step, Matt was getting onboard.
I acted on instinct when Matt went to guide Amanda over to the couch, where she was going to receive a spanking for some invisible object she’d broken.
“Let’s cut it right there.”
Amanda turned wide eyes to me. “Are we doing something wrong?”
“This is your fantasy,” I told her with a smile. “You can’t do it wrong. But I think…” I winked at her. “Maybe you two should finish this at home. You might be surprised.”
I had no issue watching one of my clients paddle his partner, but Amanda had been sitting kind of…well, high and dry for a while. If this was what broke through her wall as I suspected it might, I wanted her to share that moment with her husband.
Not her husband and me.
Two
Liam
I glanced around the rushed chaos of the airport’s baggage claim one last time.
Nobody was coming.
My parents knew I was coming home today. I’d got a text back from Mom yesterday when I sent her the inform
ation. She’d told me that she couldn’t wait to see me…when I got home.
I’d pretty much figured then and there that I wasn’t going to be greeted with balloons and signs and hugs.
It would be kind of weird if I was, to be honest.
I hadn’t seen my parents since I’d left for boot camp four years earlier. I’d had leave that I could have used to travel back home to see them, but things just never meshed up quite right, and after the first year or two of rushed calls and hurried postcards, the communication line between me and my folks faded away down to about nothing.
Cards on my birthday and at Christmas, and I always called Mom on Mother’s Day, but that was about it.
Making my way out to the street, I pulled out my phone and tapped on the icon for Lyft. There were plenty of cabs waiting in front of the airport, but I had no idea what a thirty-minute cab ride would cost.
Once I got an estimate on how much time I had to wait, I dropped down onto a long, concrete bench, dumping one bag on the ground in front of me while putting the backpack on the bench next to me.
Two bags.
All I had in the world was inside those two bags.
It wasn’t much more than I’d left home with four years earlier.
It seemed pretty pathetic, but at least I didn’t have a lot of shit to carry on the way back home.
Three cars sat in the driveway when I got home. I recognized my mom’s van and the sedan my dad drove. I didn’t recognize the beater but suspected it belonged to my eighteen-year-old brother.
I wasn’t even up on the porch when I heard the sheer chaos that seemed to accompany my family all the time. I hesitated at the front door, uncertain whether I should knock or just go inside. I’d lived in this house most of my life, so knocking seemed kind of foolish, but at the same time, there was one simple fact…this wasn’t home anymore.
