by Nic Saint
“Do you have bourbon?”
“Sure. We have everything. My roommate occasionally objects, but I always say that if you want to entertain, you need to keep the liquor flowing.”
Good policy, Jack thought, and briefly wondered where the roommate was. As if she’d read his mind, Natasha said, “We have the place to ourselves. My friend won’t be back till tomorrow. She moved in with her parents for a while.”
“Oh? You two had a fight?”
She chuckled. “Not really. She had an accident and needed to recover.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“She’s fine.”
He ambled round the place, noticing several large paintings serving as decoration. They all depicted exquisite landscapes, executed in lively colors.
“My friend painted those. You like?”
He did. “She’s quite the artist. Does she exhibit?”
“Not really. I don’t think she’s sold a single piece.”
“I like em. Very… vivid.”
“I’ll tell her you’re interested. She’ll be thrilled.”
“Yeah. I would love to buy one of these. I just moved to Brussels, and my new place needs sprucing up.”
Natasha returned holding two glasses and handed him one while she took a sip from the other. She gestured at the black leather couch, and he reluctantly settled back.
“I’ll just stay—”
“—for a couple of minutes. Don’t worry. I won’t jump your bones again.” His date’s eyes sparkled, and he thought he detected a triumphant expression on her face. He wondered why.
“So, tell me all about this woman who broke your heart and ruined you for the likes of me.”
“Not much to tell, really. She’s, uh, an artist actually.”
“I might know her then?”
“You might,” he conceded.
“What’s her name?”
He desperately sought for a way out of this conversation. He really didn’t want to share his most intimate secrets with a girl he hardly knew.
“Come on, Jack. I won’t tell a soul. I’m a very discrete person.”
He laughed nervously, then relented. What harm was there in mentioning Gracie’s name. After all, perhaps Natasha did know her, and could tell her how she was doing. “Gracie. Gracie Travers.” He looked up, curious to see the response in Natasha’s eyes, but she merely pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Never heard of her. She must move in different circles.”
Chapter 36
“He’s what?”
I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard.
“Jack’s father couldn’t conceive, so he turned to Franklin, asking him for the ultimate favor.”
I swallowed convulsively, all color draining from my cheeks. “Jack’s... my brother?”
Mom’s eyes went wide. “Oh, God, no. Of course not.” She sighed. “I guess I better tell you the whole story.”
We were sitting in the kitchen. As had frequently happened these past couple of weeks, I couldn’t find sleep, and had snuck downstairs for a glass of warm milk. Mom, who occasionally couldn’t sleep either, had joined me. As she told me the story, a lot of things became more clear to me. One of which was why I’d always felt closer to my mother than my father.
“It was around the time we were celebrating our tenth wedding anniversary. For a long time, I’d been wanting our union to be blessed with a child, but Franklin kept brushing me off. So finally, one night, I confronted him, telling him that unless he told me why he didn’t want children, I’d leave him—I was really desperate at this point. I loved him dearly, but I’d always dreamed of having a family and now it seemed as if he was denying me this heartfelt wish.”
“What did he say?”
Mom’s fingers absently curled around her empty glass of milk. “He told me he already had a child and didn’t want a second. Something in the way he told me seemed off, so I pressed on.
“I knew Franklin had been married to Francine Müller before we ever met, but I didn’t know he’d fathered her a child before they broke up. And since he refused to divulge any more, I decided to find out from the horse’s mouth.” She looked up. “So I paid a visit to Francine. I felt I had a right to know, and she seemed like the only person who could tell me.”
“When I was in Jack’s place, I saw a picture of his mom. And when he played me some of her music, I immediately recognized it. Dad used to play it over and over.”
“He did. She was the great love of his life, and through a tragic event, he lost her.”
“Why? What happened?”
“He got drunk one night, and hit her. She was already with child, and fearing for both her own life and that of her unborn baby, she fled from him into Jack Carter’s arms, who had loved her from afar ever since he first laid eyes on her.”
I gasped in surprise at this. “So that’s when Jack was born.”
“Frank. Jack’s older brother. When Francine desired a second child, Jack’s father discovered he was infertile. Not wanting to break his wife’s heart, he came to Franklin.”
As Mom explained what had expired between the two former friends, I had tears in my eyes. In spite of their animosity, Dad had decided to do the right thing and help the woman he loved conceive a second son.
“He never told her?”
Mom shook her head. “Francine died without knowing Jack was Franklin’s. Nor did she have to know.”
“But what did you feel about all this? It must have been terribly hard on you.”
Mom cast down her eyes. “Franklin and I had split up by then, over his refusal to father me a child, and Francine’s story of the way he had treated her.”
I brought my hands to my face in surprise. “You and Dad split up?”
Mom nodded. “I met another man. An artist. It was a very brief affair. Passionate, yes, but brief. He didn’t treat me very well, and after a few weeks I returned to Franklin.” She smiled. “Your father kept begging me to come back to him. Said he’d made a terrible mistake with Francine and since that day hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol.”
“It’s true. Dad never drinks.”
“He always said drink awoke the devil in him, and damn near destroyed his life. Only when he was sober, did God send him an angel as acknowledgment for turning his life around. He said that the angel was me.”
“That’s so sweet.”
“Your father may be a bit rough around the edges, but he really is a very tender-hearted man once you get to know him. And I’ve known him for close on thirty years now.”
“You haven’t told him about me.”
Mom touched my face, and gazed into my eyes. “After the affair, I discovered I was pregnant. Rather than have the baby aborted, Franklin and I decided to keep it.” She trailed a finger along my cheek. “Your father, Gracie, is the artist I met that summer. His name is Bruno Gartner.”
My eyebrows shot up. “The Bruno Gartner? The famous painter?”
Mom nodded. “After we broke up, he became quite the celebrity.”
“Did-does he know about me?”
“He doesn’t, and neither does anyone else. Bruno... well, he’s a bit of a prick if you must know. Not really a father figure.”
I knew what she meant. From all accounts, the man exuded an attitude of je-m’en-foutisme in the extreme. The only person in the world Bruno Gartner liked was Bruno Gartner. I doubted if he’d have been a great father to me. Unlike Franklin, he’d probably have abandoned me without a second’s hesitation.
“Franklin is your father, honey. He raised you as his own, and we never discussed the matter again after that summer. We never had to. I realized I loved him and he loved me, and I had everything I needed right here.”
Suddenly, something occurred to me. “Does Jack Carter know about you and Bruno?”
Mom shook her head decidedly. “No, he doesn’t. Franklin never told anyone and neither did I. It’s our little secret and we would like to keep it that way
.”
I smiled exuberantly. “My lips are sealed.” I’d just realized something. Jack... thought I was his sister! The moment he heard my name was Gracie Travers, he must have thought he was related to me by blood.
So that’s why he had acted so strange in the garden that day. He couldn’t tell me the great family secret—his father had probably sworn him to secrecy—and neither could he keep on seeing me.
“Mom,” I breathed, placing both hands on her shoulders. “Thank you so much for telling me.”
“So you’re not mad? I would have told you sooner, but thought you might be devastated once you discovered who your real father was.”
I grinned. “I’m not mad. If anything, I’m relieved!”
And I quickly told her in a few words what had transpired between me and Jack.
“Oh, my God. That boy must have been crushed! All this time he thought you were his sister? No wonder he stayed away.”
I regarded her with shining eyes. “He loves me, Mom. He really does.”
“Of course he does. Why else would he have behaved this way?”
“It’s the only explanation.” I hopped up from the table. “I have to see him.”
“Honey, it’s the middle of the night. He’s probably asleep.”
I suddenly remembered I’d instructed Natasha to seduce Jack. Just to see if he cared for me. Or not… Horrified, my heart made a sudden leap of terror. “I-I have to see him. I have to see him right now. B-before it’s too late.”
Mom got up with the resigned look of a mother who knows her daughter’s heart. She folded me into a tight embrace. “Good luck, honey.”
“Thanks, Mom... for everything.”
“Go get your guy,” she whispered.
Chapter 37
Jack sat stunned. He’d just confessed to being deeply, madly in love with Gracie Travers, when Natasha had unleashed her bombshell announcement on him that “Hey, guess what. This is actually Gracie’s apartment after all. I lied.”
“What kind of game do you think you’re playing?” he growled, quickly rising to his feet. He swayed, the alcohol in his system doing little to ameliorate his mood.
“You fuck with my friends, I fuck with you.” Suddenly, the pleasant model turned vicious. “You dumped her like a two-bit whore, buddy, so deal with the consequences.”
“You tried to seduce me.”
“Yeah, and I almost succeeded. Just goes to show how much you really care for Gracie, huh?”
Jack grunted something under his breath, and stomped to the exit. “I’m out of here.”
“That’s right. Run away again. That seems to be the only thing you’re good at, buddy.”
His temper getting the better of him, he wheeled around. “She’s my fucking sister!” he thundered. “What was I supposed to do?”
Though he immediately regretted losing control like that and divulging a secret he’d sworn his dad he’d never reveal, he was gratified to see the stunned expression on Natasha’s face.
“Gracie is... your sister?”
“Uh-huh. She didn’t tell you?”
“No, she didn’t,” breathed Natasha.
Jack shook his head. “Because she doesn’t know. Neither did I until my dad sprung the news on me. So now you see why I had to leave her?”
Natasha nodded absentmindedly, then focused her attention on Jack again with some effort. “I’m sorry, Jack. I-I didn’t know.”
“Well, now that you do, I’d appreciate you not sharing this information with anyone, you hear me?”
“I won’t, Jack. You have my word.” Then she amended, “Well, except Gracie, of course. She has to be told.”
Jack held up a hand. “Please. Don’t tell her. It will destroy her.”
“You took care of that, Jack. A little bit more won’t do any more harm than you already did.”
He gazed at Natasha in desperation. “No, please. Keep this between us. Gracie cannot know.”
“She has to know!” declared Natasha with some heat.
“What do I need to know?” suddenly rang out a voice from the entrance.
Jack jerked his head in the direction of the speaker, whom he’d instantly recognized as Gracie.
“Jack has a secret,” announced Natasha, “that he doesn’t want to share with you.”
Gracie strode into the room, crossing over to the couch to sit next to her friend. “Don’t tell me. You’re my brother, right?”
Jack was flabbergasted by this statement, but more so by its cool delivery. Gracie’s face, normally so lively, was a mask of control.
“How-how did you find out?” was all he could manage.
“My mother told me the whole story tonight.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “My dad told me the day you came to see me. That’s why...” He swallowed, the sight of her overwhelming his senses. She looked so beautiful, so delicate and refined. The rest and time spent with her family had clearly done her well. The unhealthy pallor that had dominated her features was gone, and her cheeks had a roseate glow.
“That’s why you dumped me?”
“I didn’t dump you, honey. I just couldn’t—”
“What happened here?” Gracie interrupted. She looked over at her friend. “Did you sleep with him?”
Natasha’s smile was warm and full of mirth. “He didn’t want to. Said he was still in love with you.”
Gracie’s mask seemed to crack at this. She blinked several times. “You... You’re in love with me, Jack?”
“I am,” he said miserably. “But it’s impossible. We’re brother and sister.”
She slowly shook her head. “No, we’re not.”
“But we are. My dad told me—”
“Your dad doesn’t know the whole story. My mother had an affair. With a well-known painter. And that’s when I was born.” For the first time, a smile appeared on Gracie’s lovely face. “We’re not related, Jack, you and I. We’re just... two people... who accidentally met when you saved my life.”
Jack felt his head spin. “What are you saying? That my father—”
“Isn’t my father.” Turning to her friend, she added under her breath, “Bruno Gartner is. And if you mention this to anyone, I’ll be forced to break your legs.”
Natasha squealed with delight at this piece of information. Then, sobered by a penetrating look from Gracie, quickly said, “I’ll be in my room if you need me. Or rather,” she added after a meaningful stare, “I think I’ll go and stretch my legs. Walk off five mint juleps.” She quickly tip-toed to the exit, and after a whispered, “See you, Jack. Nice to meet you,” she disappeared out the door.
“I behaved abominably,” spoke Jack, feeling like an absolute fool. “I should have told you the truth.”
“You should have,” agreed Gracie. “If each time there’s a little hiccup in our relationship you’re going to shut me out completely, we won’t have much of a marriage now will we?”
“M-marriage?” stammered Jack, taking a step closer to Gracie, who sat imperiously on the couch.
“That’s what I said. You did intend to marry me, right?”
“I did,” confessed Jack.
A wide smile broke through the clouds, and a sigh of relief escaped Gracie’s lips. “So you do love me after all?”
Jack closed the distance between them in a heartbeat and scooped her up in his arms.
“I’ve never loved anyone more, Melanie-Valerie-Gracie, and if you let me, I’ll love you and take care of you until the day I die.”
Chapter 38
They were exactly the words I’d longed for weeks to hear. As Jack’s arms closed around me, the sadness and loneliness melted away, and my heart soared in jubilation. Jack loved me—he really loved me.
His lips stirred mine, and I greedily drew him in, letting myself fall to the couch as he took me, voraciously, pinning me down beneath his powerful frame.
He made short shrift of my blouse and as I shrugged out of my jeans, he revealed his
muscular torso, his eyes full of lust and want—dying to have me once again—to take what was rightfully his.
“Jack—oh, my Jack.”
“Gracie,” he murmured, his eyes roving across my chest, taking in my heaving breasts and the soft swell of my mound. With a throaty growl, he bent down to strip me of the last remaining pieces of garment, and then we were naked, surrounded by the pieces of art I’d created, their cheerful colors seemingly rejoicing in the union of their creator with the man she’d pined for.
He took my mouth with ease and care this time, wanting to take things slow, but once our tongues met in their delicious tango, all caution was thrown to the wind, and soon we were melting all over again, just like we had before.
A sigh escaped my throat when his lips suckled at my breast, his hands feeding first one, then the other tit into his greedy mouth, wetting my soft skin with his saliva until I was all slick and wet. He moved down, his roving eyes dark and lustful on mine, and when his mouth took my cunt, I cried out with pleasure. To feel Jack on my naked flesh once again, when I’d expected never to see him again, was sheer rapture, and when his tongue plumbed my depths, the thick of it splaying my lips wide, I almost came just from the feel of his hot touch beyond my velvet folds. He eased his fingers into my welcoming hole, then, his tongue flicking along my deliciously swollen nub until I whimpered with delight, my eyes closed and my orgasm lifting me up and slamming me down in the most delicious high, and when he sucked in my flowing nectar, I begged him to take me.
He plunged into me, then, easing his long girth into my sex with perfect control, then, as he was exposed to the boiling heat of my cunt, a spasm of pleasure had him slam home into me with an explosion of movement.
“Oh, God, yes, Jack,” I moaned as I felt him all the way inside, reaching the farthest depths of me, his thick cockhead pushing against the walls of my vagina until I thought I’d burst.
“Fuck me, Jack. Fuck me hard.”
Easing out, only to plunge into me again, he eagerly obeyed my expressed desire, and when he rocked more and more furiously between my thighs, I spread my legs wider still, enveloping his wide hips with my legs, my feet pummeling his clenching buttocks, and I knew I’d finally landed in heaven.
