Come Together

by Swann, Rylee

  Still spinning out of control, Johnny flips me over and climbs on top of me, plunging his cock into my depths. He fucks me hard, not our usual lovemaking, and I cry out again and again, my hands twisting into the sheets. Throwing my hips upward I meet him thrust for thrust, I am amazed as that almost painful, blissful energy builds in me again.

  “Come again for me, Jae.” His piercing blue eyes look into mine, his face contorted in pained pleasure. “I’m almost there… come with me… come together…”

  He impales me, hilting hard against my cervix, and unloads inside me. My back arches and I thrust my hips to give me that last bit of friction I need, and we indeed, come together.

  Falling beside me, he grabs a breast, squeezing gently as he turns his head to capture my lips. I taste myself on his tongue as he probes my mouth and sucks on my tongue until I squirm.

  Releasing me, he smiles that sexy smile I know he reserves just for me. “Forgive me?” He waggles his eyebrows and I can’t help laughing.

  “Yes, you evil man, you’re forgiven.”

  His even breathing tells me that he’s slowly drifting to sleep, spooned against me.

  I sigh inwardly.

  I still have to tell him about the baby.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Gian

  Can this day get any worse?

  Hungover from last night, I managed to make it to work before throwing up. I would have hated for Jae to see that. She already puts up with so much from me. My sweet little angel.

  Took near an hour for my stomach to settle, only for my assistant to rush me into a marketing meeting I’d forgotten about.

  A meeting where I was supposed to give a presentation on our frozen foods line’s profit predictions for the rest of the year.

  Fucking boring. No wonder I forgot.

  But it didn’t go over too well with my boss, the director of marketing, when I told him I didn’t have the numbers yet. I think he took a dump in his pants, his face got so twisted up. He’s a nice enough guy and all. Until you fuck up. Then he’s an unpleasant little fucker.

  “Mr. Longo?” my assistant, Penny, squawks through the intercom.

  “Yes?” I sigh, knowing what she’s about to say.

  “Mr. Reid is here to see you, sir.”

  Maxwell Reid is the aforementioned director of marketing. This time stifling a sigh, I punch the intercom button again. “Yeah, I was expecting him. Send Max in, thanks, Penny.”

  I quickly straighten my tie and run my hands through my unruly hair. That’s as good as it’s going to get. At least I’m not nauseated anymore, but that might change in the next few minutes.

  My office door opens and the very corporate looking Max comes in. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with a hair out of place, a spot on his tie, shoes that weren’t shined to perfection, or a stick not up his ass.

  “Max, take a seat.” I motion to one of the two desk chairs that are placed on the other side of my desk. “Let’s cut right to the chase. You’re pissed off at me and rightly so. I screwed up. I’d like to say it’ll never happen again but, hey. I’m human.” I shrug and give him my most apologetic smile.

  He slowly lowers himself into the chair, nodding thoughtfully. “It’s more complicated than that, I’m afraid, Gian.” Dom calls me Gian, so of course Max does too. “I’d like to hash this out with you. Discover the source of the problem, if you will.” He’s still nodding slightly, his fingers steepled in front of him. “I’m concerned, you know. Your work has been exemplary until recently.”

  “Yeah, I’m aware.” I try to keep my voice level, not entirely sure I’m successful. “There’s nothing wrong here at work so there isn’t much to hash out, as you say.”

  Max clears his throat. “Well, alright, I see. If it’s something else, I’d like to help. You’re in my employ and that makes your welfare my priority.”

  What a heap of bullshit he’s spewing at me. My hangover headache kicks up a notch, making it even more difficult to stay civil while this guy tries to pry into my personal life.

  “Yeah, well, like I said, I’m sorry and all. I’ll get those numbers to you by Friday and we can reschedule the meeting for Monday.” I end on a note that says I’m done with this conversation. Take the fucking hint.

  Max smiles and leans forward. He looks like he’s about to get all fatherly on my ass.

  I grit my teeth and shift back in my chair. Subtle body language. I’m not interested in what you have to say. If he calls me “son” I really am going to vomit again.

  “Gian, you’re a true asset to this company. I say that with pride. There was no undue nepotism in your hiring. You have the credentials and the brain power to go far here.” His smile broadens, small wrinkles creasing at his eyes. “Your outside-the-box thinking is superb.” He holds up a hand. “Now, I know this isn’t a performance review but all you’d need to do to get to the next level is to apply yourself a little more.”

  My lips purse. Why in the hell did he bring up nepotism? And, I’m sure as hell not into left-handed compliments. Telling myself that I must not explode, I nod as if I’m agreeing with him.

  “Now, if you’ve taken on too much, I could have Ryan or Andrew come in to assist with this month’s forecasting.” He raises his brows. “Would that help you?”

  “You think I can’t handle it?” My stomach roils in anger and I steeple my fingers in front of me in parody of Max.

  “No, of course I don’t think that.” He changes his posture to emphasize that my accusation was the furthest thing from his mind. He looks at me now with hunched shoulders and a sad smile. “I’m only worried that you’ve bitten off too much.” He waves a hand. “Have too much on your plate. I know that you’re personally working with our chefs to finalize the line of Small Bites, which, by the way, was a fantastic idea you had. You’re also—”

  I’ve had enough. I’m tired of his voice. “Max, we both know what’s on my plate. If I haven’t complained about being stretched too thin, you shouldn’t be concerned. Hell, you’d be the first to know.” I take a breath. I’m coming off too terse and I need to tone it down. “So, how about you accept my apology and let’s get back to work.”

  He flinches as if I’d struck him and goes back to that infuriating nodding. “Certainly, I accept your apology. However, it doesn’t explain your less than adequate performance lately.”

  Jesus fuck.

  “Then write me up and put it in my file and let me get back to work.” I’m almost growling. Almost.

  “I’d much rather handle this between us. I’d hate for Dom to get involved.”

  And there it is. Holding my fucking brother over my head.

  “There’s nothing to handle, Maxwell.” I’m practically spitting the words out. “My personal business is none of yours. There will be a slight delay in getting the numbers to you, which I’ve apologized for. I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

  He sighs and stands. “Very well then. Thank you for your time.”

  I offer a single curt nod as he turns and leaves.

  Fuck. There’s no way I’m not going to hear from Dom about this.

  Maybe I’ll even get canned. I’m sure I wouldn’t be missed.

  So who the fuck cares?

  Fuck. Maybe I’d be better off. There has to be something better than this boring shit.

  * * *

  I look up from the stack of papers on my desk to check the time on my cell phone, and groan.

  It’s still not quitting time. There’s two more hours to go and I’m not sure I can make it.

  Pushing away from the desk, I leave my office to grab what must be my eighth or maybe fiftieth cup of coffee. I lost count.

  I keep my head down as I make my way to the staffroom kitchen. Every step is agony. I’m starting to think I’m too old to get drunk in the middle of a workweek. Finally arriving—it feels like I’ve been walking for an hour—I nod to the couple of others who are there and pour myself a large cup. I keep it black, I need the bi
tter taste to keep me going. Taking a sip, I wince.

  “Hey, Johnny! Riding them hard, I see?” Someone from marketing, I can’t remember his name, claps me on the shoulder and I wince again. I need more aspirin.

  “Yeah, you know it,” I say and keep moving. I need to get back to my office to hide with my impossible task of finishing the forecasting by the end of the week.

  I’m halfway back when I hear my name called. Sighing and wincing for the third time in less than fifteen minutes, I turn, knowing who I’ll see standing there.

  Dom. Scowling at me.

  Fuck.

  “A word, Gian?” He motions down the corridor that leads to his office.

  “I’m kinda busy…” I know this won’t fly, but it can’t hurt to give it a go.

  He shakes his head. “Let’s get this over with.” He’s speaking softly but the air of command is evident.

  Shrugging, I motion for him to lead the way, feeling like a dead man walking as I follow.

  Once inside his enormous corner office, he doesn’t take the power seat at his desk. Instead, he perches on the arm of a comfortable sofa on the other side of the room. Before I can settle into a chair opposite him, he starts in on me.

  “What’s going on with you?” He’s all frowns, dark and brooding. I guess the ladies who swoon over him might call it smoldering, but I’m unaffected. Fuck, I get my fair share of swoons too. Not that he’s trying to seduce me. Quite the opposite. He’s taking charge, being the boss. The dominant.

  I snort. “No foreplay? No how’s it going, bro? Just hit me with—”

  “Cut the shit. I just got an earful from Max.” He crosses his arms over his chest. He’s pissed all right. “I know the two of you clash in style and work ethic but you’re both integral around here. So tell me what the fuck that was all about.”

  I look at him, stunned. “Are you fucking serious? It’s him or me? What the fuck—”

  “Shut up, Gian,” he growls. “I didn’t say that.”

  With a smirk, I shrug. I sometimes get a kick out of messing with my older brother. “If I shut up, I can’t tell you what’s up.”

  “Will you be serious?” I’ve clearly exasperated him and I watch in abstract pleasure as the vein in his neck almost pops. “I know you well enough—”

  “No shit.” My smirk strengthens. “We grew up together. You took me out of my home and put me in yours. Not like I had any choice in the matter.”

  His eyebrows go up and he remains silent for a beat. “What the hell? You were a baby!” His voice rises with his anger. “I took you away from a fucking drunk who couldn’t hold a job and was awful to our mother and to us.”

  “I’m aware.” This is all I give him. I don’t know where this confrontation is coming from but maybe it’s long overdue.

  “I gave you a life! I gave you a future!” He pauses and reins in his emotions. From a clinical standpoint, it’s interesting to see. He runs a hand through his hair, clears his throat, relaxes his muscles. I’ve seen it a thousand times if I’ve seen it once. “I gave you everything I could that you could never have gotten from them.” He looks at me earnestly, the scowl gone, sadness in his eyes. “I helped you.”

  I nod. “Yeah, but you didn’t help them.” He freezes, at a loss for words. I wait a moment before sitting forward in my chair. “Are we done here?”

  “Is this how you really feel?” The strength is gone from his voice. I’ve rattled him and, to be honest, I sort of rattled myself too. I didn’t know I was going to say that until the words left my mouth.

  Again, I shrug. I don’t really know the answer but I won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting that. “You raised me, you were sometimes more father than brother to me, but you never let me leave the nest, Dom. I’m not a kid anymore and I won’t be treated like one.” I pause to let him speak but he’s still chewing on what I said.

  I stand, needing this to be over. I’m not being entirely rational but I won’t backpedal now. Our parents calling me has really fucked with my head.

  I turn my back to him and walk to the door.

  “Gian.” I stop and look back at him over my shoulder. He hasn’t moved except to lean forward a bit. “You’re dealing with something. Talk to me.” It’s not a demand but a plea.

  Not now, not yet. Not until I know how I feel about things.

  I shake my head. As I turn to leave, Dom’s face sags into a dumbfounded expression.

  I hesitate for a moment, my hand on the doorknob, almost wishing Dom will ask me again but his silence continues and I open the door and walk out.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jaelin

  “Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!” Sweet baby giggles tumble out of Crispell’s two-year-old son as he points his pretend gun finger at me.

  Cris—my one-time lifesaver who took me in when my ex dumped me and kicked me out—smiles, clearly amused, while I clutch my heart and stagger as if I’m mortally wounded.

  “Do it back to him, Jae,” Cris urges, so I hold up my hand and pretend shoot the little rug rat.

  “Bang!”

  To my surprised delight, he plops down on his behind with a hand over his heart. The only thing spoiling his fake death is that uproarious giggles are still coming out of his mouth.

  Turning to Cris, she shakes her head with a grin. “His daddy taught him that.” She looks at the child with a loving smile. “Didn’t he, Anthony?”

  Another tiny ball of energy barrels around the corner, coming to a stop in front of me. “Up. Up.” Angela, Anthony’s fraternal twin, holds up her arms, pleading with enormous blue eyes. I can’t say no to that face and pull her up onto my hip. I’m rewarded with a gigantic smile.

  “She’s going to be a man-eater,” I say to Cris and take a seat on the couch with the little imp.

  “And he’s going to be a bad boy lady-killer.” My friend—the proud mamma—beams and joins me on the sofa.

  We both laugh.

  Picking up a coffee mug, she takes a sip and settles back. I know the coffee she offered when I arrived at the luxurious New York City apartment she and her family share has gone cold by now. I guess when you have twins you get used to cold coffee.

  As I often do when I visit, I marvel again at how easily Cris adjusted to having money. She’s not pretentious about it in the slightest and keeps Dom grounded. The penthouse is decorated with Cris’ good taste but not extravagantly, despite Dom’s billions. Their home is comfortable and cheery with furniture you’re not afraid to sit on. And with the twins, that’s a good thing, considering how sticky their little hands often are.

  Angela starts to wriggle like a slippery fish to get down. I kiss her sweet angel head and set her on the floor. She walks on chubby bowed legs and plops down with a giggle next to her brother.

  Cris looks great. Motherhood is really agreeing with her. I’ve always known her to be fit but now she’s glowing and that haunted look that she used to wear on her face is gone. Once upon a time when she worked at Fitness USA, she was my personal trainer. Since she had the twins she’s become a stay-at-home mom. I sometimes miss those sweaty good times but I visit every chance I get.

  “What’s up, Jae?” Cris raises her brows. “I got the impression when you called you wanted to drop a bomb on me.”

  A bomb. I suppose that’s one way to put it.

  Looking at her, I almost lose my nerve. Of course, I want to tell her my baby news but it also somehow feels wrong. Johnny should know first, shouldn’t he?

  Tamping down my doubts about that as best as possible, I nod. “If dropping a bomb can be a happy occasion, I do have news.” Biting my lip, I wait for her reaction but she just motions for me to continue.

  I glance to Angela and Anthony playing together with a couple of toy cars. They’re so busy moving them around and getting in each other’s way. Their sweet innocence gives me strength and I turn back to Cris.

  “I’m going to have a baby. Gonna be a mom.” My voice breaks and I start bawling like a baby, t
ears running down my face and snot clogging my nose.

  Concern flashes across Cris’ face. She scoots closer and pulls me into a one-armed side hug. “What’s wrong?” She gives me a squeeze, her hand rubbing my back. “Didn’t you just say this was happy news?”

  Through my tears, I start laughing. Cris’ eyes widen as if I’ve lost my mind. “It’s okay, really. These are happy tears.” Wiping my face with my hands, I try to get my emotions under control.

  “Are you sure?” There’s still concern in her voice so I nod vigorously to assure her.

  “I’m thrilled at the prospect of being a mom.” I motion to the toddlers. “You and the twins are my inspiration. I adore them and can’t wait for my own. I mean, one. One of my own.”

  “Okay, well then, I’m happy for you.” She takes me into a real hug and we hold on to each other for a moment, sharing in my happiness. When, at last, we release each other she jumps up and comes back quickly with a tissue box. I take one and blow my nose. It comes off sounding like a foghorn, which makes me laugh harder. “What did Johnny say?”

  My lower lip trembles and I reach for another tissue as new tears fall. “I… umm…”

  “You didn’t tell him yet.” She frowns and looks like she wants to hit someone, Johnny no doubt. “Do I have to sic Dom on him? Tell him to kick his brother’s ass?”

  A wan smile tries to lift the corners of my mouth. “No, I just…”

  “Tell me what’s wrong, Jae. Let’s figure this out together.”

  I take a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “I had it all planned about telling him. I cooked dinner, dressed up, set the mood. You know?” Cris nods, waiting for the rest. “He finally arrived very late and drunk. I was so angry but he won me over—”

  “You had crazy-hot drunk sex.” Cris nods knowingly. She’s not judging me, just commenting. I’ve always loved this about her.