Kiss of Fire (St. James Family)

by Parker, Lavender

  He didn't want her. He'd made that quite clear. Maybe it was because she was black. Maybe it was because she was too young. Maybe she'd been right about the ex-wife thing. Maybe he was heartbroken and not ready for another relationship. She didn't know. Whatever the reason, the outcome was the same. She was horny with no outlet for her passion.

  So, she danced.

  She danced until her muscles ached. She danced until her legs shook with the exertion. She danced until her toes felt like they were going to break. Only then did she stop. She pulled off her pointe shoes, and whimpered at the pain. All she could do was wrap up her toes, slide on her Ugg boots, and hobble to the train. But at least her mind was on the hurt, and not the sexual frustration.

  She found herself riding past her train stop and heading for Annata and Christophe's. They were supposed to be back from Paris that evening, she wasn't sure what time. They'd probably be jet-lagged and want alone time, but she didn't care. She was in the mood to be the bratty younger sister.

  She rang the doorbell when she arrived and saw the lights on at the townhouse, figuring she would be courteous as opposed to using her key and tromping right in. The door swung open and her sister stood there, barefoot in a sleeveless white dress, a big smile on her face.

  “Look at you, ringing the doorbell like a guest.” Annata St. James said, her hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised. “Trying to pretend like you didn't eat all the food and drink all the coffee in the house while we were gone.”

  “It's the mice. I swear.” Toni stepped in and hugged her older sister, breathing her in. She smelled like wine, mint, and Christophe. It was comforting. She'd missed her Natty, like she always did when her big sister was away. They were fourteen years apart in age, and Nat was almost more of a mother figure to her than a sister. She definitely looked up to her sister more than she looked up to her mother, who was a quintessential, traditional Southern housewife.

  “Is that my favorite sister-in-law?” Christophe was calling from the kitchen.

  “She's blaming mice for the lack of food in the fridge. I think we need to call the exterminator,” Nat said, following Toni into the kitchen. “Either that, or change the locks.”

  Christophe stood against the center island, looking effortlessly handsome in jeans and a cashmere sweater, pouring a bottle of red wine. He held out an arm for Toni and she stepped into his embrace.

  “Ignore Annie. She ordered sushi already anyway.”

  “Eel? Did you get extra?” Toni wagged an eyebrow.

  “Yes, dear. You're lucky we love you so damn much,” Nat said, taking the glass of wine Christophe offered her.

  “So how was your trip? Are you about to pass out from exhaustion?” Toni asked, sipping on her own glass and hopping up on one of the metal stools at the counter.

  “We slept on the plane.” Christophe said, sliding an arm around Nat's waist and pulling her close. “And we have tomorrow off.” He pressed a kiss to his wife's neck.

  “Christy finally hired someone to take over International Paris, so hopefully we won't have to go back for awhile.”

  “Yay!” Toni clapped her hands. “You two travel too damn much.”

  “Now, remind me when your show opens?” Nat said, pressing a finger to her temple. “I don't think I put it on the calendar.”

  “Opening night is June 23rd,” Toni said.

  “Okay. You hear that?” Nat poked Christophe in the chest. “Calendars clear.”

  “Got it,” he said, with a smile.

  “We might have to go to Shanghai some time in June, but we'll make sure it's not then.”

  “You don't have to come, you know. It's not that big of a deal,” Toni waved her hand.

  “Don't be ridiculous,” Nat fiddled with her earring. “This is a big deal, right? The Lilac Fairy is a big fucking deal.”

  “Yes, it's kind of a big deal,” Toni said, giggling.

  “Okay then. No arguments.”

  “So, my lovely Toni, I know you didn't come over here empty-handed,” Christophe said, looking at her expectantly. A wide smile spread over Toni's face.

  “I brought a little somethin' somethin',” Toni said, hopping up and reaching for her purse. “I figured you guys would want to relax a bit after traveling.”

  “You figured right. Roll that shit up,” he said, downing the last bit of his wine.

  “Ooh!” Annata looked up from her phone, a smile on her face. “I am so excited.”

  An hour later, when the sushi was gone, they sat out on the patio and smoked and drank until all the weed and wine was gone as well. Nat lay on Christophe in the hammock and Toni curled up in a chair beside them. The spring air was crisp, but not too cold. It was a perfect night with two of her most favorite people.

  When Nat dozed off, Toni caught Christophe's eyes over her sister's head. She could still remember the first time they met, at the hospital after the accident. She'd been so destroyed and he'd been so kind. In the weeks after the accident, he'd kept in touch with her and helped her through the shitty time, until Nat returned to the city. Christophe was one of the good ones. She smiled at his expression. He looked so... at peace. Stoned, but at peace. Like all was right with the world. And it was. For the most part. There was the nagging little issue in the back of her mind. O'Donovan the Asshole was still there, bothering her. God, she wished she'd never gone to see him. She wished she'd never met him!

  “You love her so much,” Toni said to Christophe, her eyelids heavy. He laughed, high off his ass.

  “I've loved her so long, it's as easy as breathing,” he said, his voice strained. Then he coughed. Toni erupted in giggles.

  “We're so high.”

  “I know. It's fucking awesome,” he said, looking up to the inky black sky.

  “Tell me the story again,” Toni said, propping her head on her hand.

  “What story?”

  “The story. How you knew my Natty was the one.”

  “Okay,” Christophe smiled like the drunk in love person he was. His fingers stroked Nat's arm. “She called me a... hold on. Let me remember the exact words.”

  “ A 'pathetic, entitled piece of shit',” Nat supplied, her eyes still closed.

  “Right, that's it,” he said, laughing.

  “I'm so sorry, baby. Really,” she said, lifting her face for a kiss. He planted a kiss on her and then she settled against his chest again.

  “I mean, she was kind of right. Rude as hell, but right,” Christophe said laughing. “And I just looked at her. I stared right into those golden-brown eyes and I felt my life change. I just didn't know how long it would take before she felt the earth-shattering love I felt.” He pressed his cheek against Nat's hair. “And then we fucked. After we fucked, I was a goner.”

  “Ew!” Toni raised her hands to her ears, laughing. Nat slapped him on the chest, eyes still closed.

  “Truth. Stone-cold truth.” Christophe raised his hand in a scout's honor. “Your sister is the best fuck I've ever had or will have.”

  “I should hope so,” Nat mumbled, a smile on her lips.

  “That's cute. Gross, but cute,” Toni said, laughing. “What about you, Nat? When did you know?”

  “After we fucked,” Nat said with a laugh.

  “That is a lie!” Christophe said, his voice rising. “You made me work so fucking hard for it.”

  “How else would you appreciate it if you didn't have to work hard for it?” she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

  “You're so full of shit.” Christophe said, stroking her cheek. “I think you didn't know you loved me for sure until I proposed.”

  “No. No! I remember the exact moment. We were—sorry, Toni—we were at that hotel and we were fucking—”

  “Which hotel?”

  “The hotel, when I was home from Hong Kong. And then we got stoned, and I was in love with you.”

  “Ah.” Christophe looked off. “Damn, that was some good weed.”

  “I'm glad I could contribute something
to the love story of Christophe and Annata,” Toni said, giving a light bow. “Seeing as how I couldn't be in the wedding,” she said, tossing a little dig her sister's way. Their families would never forgive Nat and Christophe for eloping. Nat stuck her tongue out at her sister, but didn't say a thing.

  “So what about you, Toni?” Christophe rolled his head to look at her. “You got anybody in your crosshairs?”

  “Um. Maybe. Maybe not. I don't think he's really interested in me.”

  “If he doesn't see how great you are, then he's a jackass.”

  “I know right?!” Toni said. “I'm going to let you tell him that.”

  “I will. I will tell that motherfucker to his face,” Christophe said, his voice slurring a bit.

  “I think it's time for bed,” Nat finally said, in between giggles. “If we stay down here any longer, I'm gonna pass out and then you won't get lucky tonight, Mr. Van der Kind.”

  “Don't tease me, woman,” Christophe said and they carefully extracted themselves from the hammock. Nat pressed a kiss to Toni's forehead on the way past.

  “Are you going to stay tonight?” she asked. Toni nodded, feeling very tired all of a sudden. “Okay, dear. We'll do brunch or something tomorrow, okay?” Toni nodded again, and then twisted around in her chair to watch Nat and Christophe through the kitchen window. They stopped at the foot of the stairs and kissed, wrapping their bodies around each other like they were starving for each other. Toni felt wistful all of a sudden. She sighed deep. She was so happy for them. But she wanted to be happy, too. More than anything she wanted someone to share her life, and her bed, with. O'Donovan, why do you have to be such a dick? she thought desperately, turning her eyes to the starless sky.

  Chapter 5

  Toni woke in the marigold room the next morning, and it all came back to her in a rush. She'd hoped that she would wake up and the ill-conceived hospital visit with O'Donovan would be forgotten, like a bad dream. But she wasn't so lucky. She was far from lucky.

  She woke up thinking about his face. His lips, specifically. How he ran his tongue across them and then kissed her two years ago. How he'd trailed them over her collarbone. She let her finger glide over the bone his lips had touched, letting herself shiver as she imagined that he was with her, holding her and kissing her. She was such a dope. O'Donovan was an asshole. She hated him. She wished a huge crater would open up and swallow all of Queens. The whole dumb borough had to go because he had ruined it.

  But she still wanted to hump him. More than ever.

  She slid one hand between her legs, letting her other hand trail against her collarbone. Who knew her collarbone was such an erogenous zone? O'Donovan had christened it. When she was panting softly, working herself up, she let herself think about his big body on top of hers, slowly entering her. She slid her finger inside, and it was a poor substitute for what she was sure O'Donovan had going on. But it was all that she had, so she made due. She came with his name on her lips, her nipples tight and her toes curled. Just thinking about him and masturbating was better than the last sex she'd had with an actual live man. How pathetic.

  She rolled out of bed, and winced. Her feet were killing. Luckily, it was Saturday and she had the day off. She used the bathroom off of the guest room, pulled on a pair of blue yoga pants, then wandered out into the hallway. She stayed quiet, not wanting to wake her sister and Christophe. They needed their sleep. When she passed their room, the door was open a crack. She couldn't help herself. She glanced inside the light-filled room.

  Christophe's bare back filled her field of vision, and she was surprised at the amount of ink he had. She'd never seen him without a layer of cashmere or other expensive fabric on. He lifted Nat's arm and settled it over his ribs, pressing his lips to her shoulder. She saw Nat's fingernails sink into his skin. Then he raised her hand to his mouth, grazing her knuckles, sucking her wedding ring between his lips. She heard her sister's light laugh. He dipped his head, kissing her. As the kiss deepened, he rolled over onto Nat, who opened her legs beneath the white sheet to accommodate him. Her fingers lightly trailed up his spine as he rolled his hips against her lazily. She could hear his low moan and Annata shushing him. They laughed softly, kissing and moving together. Toni finally forced herself away from the door, embarrassed at herself for watching such an intimate moment.

  She padded downstairs, sliding into her shoes in the foyer. The least she could do was go to the French bakery on the corner and buy them coffee and pastries for breakfast. Since she might have, maybe, possibly, drank the last bit of Annata's fancy imported Italian coffee.

  Oops.

  She grabbed her bag and headed out, a smile on her face the instant she stepped outside into the sunshine. It was another beautiful late-spring day in the city. Despite her sexual frustration, it was impossible to remain in a bad mood. She took her sweet time making her way down to the pastry shop, wanting to give Nat and Christophe ample time to finish their 'morning activities' before she returned. She passed joggers and dog walkers, giving everyone a big, bright smile. She loved the Upper West side on Saturday morning. Everyone was so friendly and happy.

  She passed the bodega and decided to stop in for some fresh fruit. Although Annata loved the pain au chocolat from the French shop, Toni couldn't afford the calories. Especially not when she had a show coming up. She threw a wave to Alexei, the uncle of the owner, who was behind the counter. The old Czech gave her a wide, toothless grin.

  “How are you doing?” she asked, on her way past. “You look like you're doing great.”

  “I can not complain,” he said, in his raspy smoker's voice.

  “How's your fruit selection today?” she called out, plopping her hands on her hips and surveying the bins of fresh fruit along the side wall.

  “Peaches. Fresh,” the old man said, bobbing his head. “Strawberries, still too early in season. Blueberries, sweet. Delicious.”

  “Aw, you're so great, Mr. Alexei!” She lifted a peach to her nose and sniffed. Heavenly.

  And then a brilliant idea came to her. Well, she wasn't sure if it was brilliant. It could be a terrible idea. But it felt like a brilliant idea. Her granny, master pie-maker that she was, took it as gospel that the way to any man's heart was through his stomach. Now, Toni didn't necessarily want O'Donovan's heart, but she sure did want his dick. And making the man a pie suddenly seemed like the perfect peace offering. She had to stop herself from doing an excited pirouette in the aisle of the bodega. She gathered the ingredients hurriedly, her mind running through the recipe she knew by heart.

  Granny had taught she and Annata how to make pies at an early age. These days, the sisters would usually get together and make pies a couple of times a year, usually for the holidays. Toni knew Christophe was partial to strawberry rhubarb, but Alexei had pooh-poohed the strawberries, so he was just going to have to settle for blueberry. And O'Donovan? Well, he'd be getting a very special peach pie. She giggled at her own brilliance. How could you be an asshole to a girl who slaved over a pie for you? She was sure O'Donovan would find a way. But it was worth a shot.

  After buying the ingredients, she hauled ass to the pastry shop and bought the coffees. Then she hurried back to Annata and Christophe's, her arms aching under the strain of the grocery bags. She burst in the door and trotted to the kitchen. Annata looked up from the New York Times, her hair piled on her head and a scowl on her lovely face.

  “What the hell are you so excited about?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I come bearing coffee,” Toni said, sliding the paper cup holder weighed down with three black coffees across the counter to her.

  “Bless you,” Annata said, her eyes lighting up. If she didn't have her coffee in the morning, she was a total beast.

  “And pain au chocolat.” Toni dropped the already greasy paper bag beside her sister's newspaper.

  “Are you trying to butter me up? Because it's working.” Nat opened the bag and took a whiff of the chocolatey treats.

  “We
ll, I figured that maybe instead of brunch today, we could make some pies?” Toni said, unloading all of the ingredients out onto the center island. “Alexei said the peaches were amazing, and the blueberries, too.”

  “Who the hell is Alexei?”

  “John's uncle, dummy,” Toni said, catching a peach before it rolled off the counter.

  “Who's John?”

  “Oh my God. The guy who owns the bodega. Don't you know anybody in your own neighborhood?” Annata shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. Toni rolled her eyes, sure that Nat had never spoken to anybody at the bodega beyond a 'please' or a 'thank you'.

  “So you just woke up and wanted to make pies?” Nat asked, motioning to the countertop full of ingredients.

  “I got the idea in the bodega. Come on! It'll be fun, girl.” Toni set the butter out on the counter to warm to room temperature. “We'll drink a little wine then we'll get knee deep in some dough.”

  “Whatever you want, dear,” Annata was laughing now. Christophe took that moment to stroll in, barefoot, his blonde hair wet like he'd just gotten out of the shower.

  “I smell coffee,” he said. Annata held up a cup for him and he took it. They shared a little secret smile that Toni knew meant they'd both had amazing orgasms that morning, while the only man she'd been chatting up was toothless Alexei. Life was truly unfair sometimes. With a nod, she committed herself to the pie plan. It might be desperate, but it was all she had.

  Watch out, O'Donovan, she thought. I'm coming for you, guns blazing.

  ***

  O'Donovan rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to work out the pain in his back. While not as bad as the day before, it still ached. He just wanted to get back to normal. Downing a couple aspirin without water, he jogged up the subway stairs on his way home. He'd finally been discharged from the hospital into the May sunshine. He was officially a free man.