Sinfully Theirs: Naughty Nookie Part I

by Akeroyd, Serena

  “Has he seen you? You’re more like a Grecian God than a tiny, weeny little fairy.”

  “Which God?”

  I grin. “Depends on your mood.”

  “Well, as long as I’m not Narcissus.”

  “Definitely not. You’re not the vain kind. I was thinking either Adonis, but that’s kind of predictable, or Zeus. You have quite the regal bearing, you know. Plus, your name begins with the same letter.”

  “Regal? Me?” He laughs and I cross my hands behind his neck, embracing him with all of my body.

  “You just don’t know who you are, Zane. Now, King of the Gods let me up. I’m dying for a coffee.” I drop my hands to his butt and squeeze. “And before I go, tell me, do you need some Ibuprofen?”

  His grimace speaks for itself.

  “One or two?”

  He sighs. “I’ve a special pack of pills in my carryon bag. It’s by the front door.”

  “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Feeling like I’ve won a huge battle for his admission, I wiggle out from under him and say, “In the future, you’ll tell me when you’re in pain. We did far too much yesterday.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Ha. Now I know you’re lying. If your mother has ever expressed interest in anyone but herself, I’d be shocked.” It’s wrong to insult his family, but they’re nothing like kin.

  It would seem only Jake had a positive home experience.

  His grin is broad. “Actually, she was pretty concerned when I was blown up. But if I’m recovered enough to be gay as she phrased it, then I don’t deserve her pity.”

  My blood pressure surging, I shake my head. Speechless.

  “It really pisses you off, doesn’t it?”

  “What? That they treat you like shit?”

  “Yeah.” At my nod, he narrows his eyes at me. “Why? It’s not like your family was a loving one, and I’m not saying that to hurt. I just don’t get why you’re so defensive of me.”

  At that, I laugh. “Oh, Zane. You really can be blind, honey.” Bending down, I drop a kiss on his nose and around a smile, murmur, “I love you. Anyone that hurts you, hurts me.”

  Before he can reply, I head for the entrance and the carryon case. Moving my bags to reach it, I notice a paper package on the floor and memory strikes. Zane’s gift. The one he mentioned back when I was in Paris with Jake.

  Intrigued, my hand hovers over it, but I force my curiosity aside and move the roller to input the code and unlock the case. Rifling through his wash kit and other bits and pieces, I find the packet and return to the bedroom, only meandering off course to get him a bottle of water out of the otherwise empty refrigerator.

  That he took the pills with him to New Orleans, as well as the fact that they’re prescription grade tells me that he hides his pain from the pair of us and that it’s not as infrequent as I’d like.

  Disturbed at the idea, but not wanting him to think I’m babying him, I hand over the packet and the bottle, and I smile at his murmuring of thanks and retreat to the hall once more. Package in hand, I slide it on the kitchen counter and set up the percolator.

  Once it’s ready to filter, I grab a knife and tear through the hardened brown paper. The instant I do, I realize it’s a large book. Turning it over and opening the front page, shakes attack my knees and I have to sit at one of the high chairs beside the breakfast counter.

  Pushing the base of my palms into my eyes to stem the tears, impatience has me sniffing them back. The instant they clear, I want to cry again.

  “Granddad.” I almost exhale the word as I look at the first page, a picture of him looking over the side of a huge ship. I don’t know the terminology, but it reminds me of a lookout post and he has a grin a mile wide on his face. His arm is tucked over a smaller, younger Marine and his grin is just as wide.

  Camaraderie.

  Such an innocent joy. So rare nowadays and all the more precious a sight because of it.

  The next one shows my granddaddy dancing at a hall. There’s a circle around him and his partner with the crowd watching on in awe, their hands in a state of perpetual applause. And that combined with the woman’s skirts swinging around her hips, as well as the outward pose of my grandfather’s feet as he dances, I can only say that the picture deserves an award. It’s a still, but so fluid, you can sense the motion. I can just see him grabbing her by the waist and swinging her to his left and then the right.

  Another shows Granddad in Burma beside a snake charmer. A close-up of the snake and a shot of him looking queasy as the cobra wavers and quivers to the sound of the music.

  There’s more. Countless more.

  Every page has two, sometimes three photos. Each one new to me. Each one a delight that has my throat clogging with tears and joy and happiness.

  Zane’s given him back to me. Memories count for a lot, but granddad died when I was young. To see him alive again and youthful, oh, the emotions joyriding through me make me almost out of breath with wonder.

  “You got it.”

  My head jerks up and the instant my eyes clash with Zane’s, I slide off the stool and hurry to him. With his arms upraised, I walk between them and wrap my own about his waist. The instant my face touches his bare pecs, I sob my thanks.

  It’s a weird display of gratitude, but I can’t help it and through it all, Zane just holds me. Let’s me pour out my grief, because I guess that’s what it is. I lost my Pappy, when the fire consumed my apartment. This is his return, but only in so far that it’s possible.

  I’ll never get the man back. Will only see his life through these photos and that’s bittersweet.

  “Thank you,” I whisper and push back out of Zane’s arms to lean up on tiptoe. Brushing his mouth with my fingers, I stare into his eyes. I don’t care that I look like hell or that Zane’s seeing me like death warmed up. “I don’t know how you did it, I don’t care who you had to bribe, I can never thank you enough for that album.” Stepping out of his arms, I retreat to the counter and with careful hands close the book and press it to my chest. I embrace it as I can no longer embrace my grandfather. “I’m just going to take a shower.”

  Zane nods and lets me escape.

  And that is why I love him.

  Thoughtful, caring, tender. Who thinks of a gift like this?

  No one. Just Zane.

  No matter his flaws, no matter his past mistakes, this gift reflects the true man. A man capable of selfishness as well as selflessness. Who gives and gives for the joy of it. Someone capable of being mortally wounded who prevails — even overcoming his nearly disabling injuries. Strong and self-assured, yet so open and caring.

  How could I do anything but love him?

  * * *

  “It’s about time you came out of hiding.”

  While she’s chiding me, the gentle amusement in her voice is the exact reason I’m calling Edwina first. She takes most things with a grain of salt. Even after knowing her for a decade, I don’t exactly know why but if you need to break the ice, she’s your gal.

  Plus, I know the instant I put the phone down, she’ll call Marina and sort things out for me.

  She’s a trooper.

  “I wasn’t in hiding.”

  She snorts. “Yeah, tell that to someone who can’t read, honey. So, you went for it, right? With Zane, I mean?”

  Plus, she always digs to the bone within an instant of starting a conversation.

  The not-so-nice aspect of talking to her sometimes.

  “Yeah. I don’t really think I can hide from the truth when it hit the newsstands.”

  “No, I think going with the truth was the correct option. Marina’s going nuts, you know? She’s really scared for you.”

  Knowing Edwina wouldn’t say it unless it was true and not to hurt me, I sigh and immediately feel guilty. “Yeah. I thought she might. But I’m fine. I promise.”

  “You didn’t talk to us for what? Three months?”

  “I was pissed off with you.”

  “Because
we genuinely couldn’t help you?”

  That she sounds perplexed is irritating. “No matter what the circumstances, I would have helped you.”

  “We did what we could, Mona. We never meant to hurt you, and you didn’t have to punish us for not hitting your high ideals by cutting us out of your life.” Her bland tone is at odds with her sharp words.

  I blow out a breath, knowing this argument is going nowhere. There’s a reason I called her. I want my best friends, the women I consider sisters back in my life. These things happen, they blow over. But someone has to make the first step, and that’s me. So there’s no point in getting mad when I chose to call her. These women are my family. After seeing the poor excuse of Zane’s, and being reunited with Pappy, I see that now.

  “No. You might be right, but I was going through some things, and it just didn’t help.”

  “Things we couldn’t have helped you with?”

  “No, you couldn’t have done anything. You might have been my conscience, and I guess I didn’t want that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The night of the fire, when I went out to work late?” At her hum of understanding, I suck in a breath and mutter, “Zane asked me to be his mistress.”

  Now, with Marina, she’d have squealed out her outrage. Her sound of her shock and disgust at an antiquated term. But Eddie, she just hums again.

  “He did, huh? So, he is married, and there’s no excuse for his cheating…”

  “No. No reason that could be acceptable to you or Marina.”

  “Well, there’s a story there in itself.”

  “I guess so, but I don’t want to go into it.”

  She laughs. “Yeah, if you intend to talk to Marina again, I’d change my mind about that.”

  “But you won’t push?”

  “No, you know me, Mona. That’s why you called me in the first place.” Her wry tone doesn’t escape me.

  “Yeah. I do have something to tell you, though. Something major.”

  “Ooh, that sounds promising.”

  “Well, it is for me.” I rub a hand over my face, wondering how to explain my situation. “You already know that Zane’s married,” I begin.

  “Yeah, I also know that you’re supposed to be the surrogate for him and his husband. We both know that’s bullshit.”

  Clearing my throat, I eventually get out, “Jake is… kind of complicated.”

  She pauses, her silence weighty with her consideration. “I’m sensing that your life has turned into one huge complication.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  “What’s the other way?”

  “Well, Jake and I, we’re a couple.”

  This time, the silence is stunned. “You are shitting me? What about Zane?”

  “Zane and I are a couple, too.”

  Another pause. Then a hoot of laughter. “Simone Barranquet, are you trying to tell me that you’re in a ménage a trois relationship?”

  My reply is sheepish. “Yeah.”

  “If that’s your news, whatever Marina needs to ferret out of you must be a doozy.” She sucks in a breath, and for the first time in our relationship, I can tell she has to bite her curiosity back. “You can talk to me about the rest of it, when you’re ready. I’m just glad that you made contact.”

  “You must have known I’d call you sooner or later.” My reply is blasé, because they had to know my sulk wouldn’t have lasted. All the same, I’m glad to have got in touch with Eddie. She’s the cornerstone of our trio, the one Marina and I call on as umpire.

  Regardless of that, it’s just wonderful knowing that soon I can call on the pair of them again. And that they can call on me.

  Two days back in New York, and even if I’d wanted to hold on to my anger, I couldn’t have done. Being back here, seeing all our old haunts, I had to get in touch.

  It’s been weird without them. I’ll be honest and say that having Jake and Zane in my life has made me miss them less than I would have done normally. But my gals are irreplaceable.

  “Yeah, I knew. But I didn’t know when, and I’m going to need your support soon.”

  “You are?” Unused to Edwina asking for anything, my voice is almost a squeak.

  She laughs, but I know her too well. This time, her nonchalance is assumed, and the knowledge has me frowning, wondering what she’s about to say.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Whatever I’d expected, it wasn’t that.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You lazy monkeys. Is this what happens when I’m out of town for a few days?”

  Jerked out of sleep four days later, my eyes flutter open and shut around a yawn and then, the voice truly penetrates and I smile. Big and wide and all the more powerful because it’s sleepy. Holding out my arms, I mumble, “Jake. Baby, what are you doing here?”

  The covers drift upwards and the brittle cold of his clothes make me shiver as he climbs in beside me. As he slips his hands underneath my sleep shirt, I shudder all the more with the cold.

  “Hey, no fair.” I grumble and swat at him as he chuckles.

  “It’s fucking freezing out there.”

  “It is?” The weather had been quite nice for mid-autumn. “What time is it?”

  “Four in the morning.”

  “Oh.” The time fails to register and the instant it does, I smack his back again. “Who are you calling lazy? It’s four AM. Hardly noon.”

  “I had to say something. Where was the welcome party, eh? No arms wide open for me.”

  “Well, they were once I knew you were here. Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?” My voice is still sleepy and husky because of it. The pair of us have modulated the volume of our tones so as not to awaken Zane. The level of his awareness even when sleeping is astonishing, so it’s strange he hasn’t already woken up. More than anything, it tells me he took a heavy dose of medication last night.

  Not that the little shit told me so.

  Grr.

  He snorts. “Like you told me you were returning to New York?”

  “You’d understand if you’d had the misfortune of meeting Zane’s family. We told you as soon as we’d woken up the next day.” That was no lie. After I’d mopped myself up, divested myself of bucket-loads of tears and shed a few more after looking at the photo album again, I’d gone to the lounge and heard Zane on the phone telling Jake about our impromptu escape from his parents’ home.

  “That bad, huh? Zane was quite reticent on the phone. You weren’t that much better.”

  “No, it wasn’t the best of trips.” Luxuriating in his embrace, even if his hands are freezing, I sigh. “It’s wonderful to have you back.”

  His voice drops a notch, to the consistency of molten metal, but this time, it’s different. Think liquid platinum instead. “It’s wonderful to be back.” He leans over me and touches my nose with his in what can only be an Eskimo kiss. His lips drop down to rub against my own, and then, they drift along the line of my jaw. One by one, anointing every inch of the sensitive flesh there. Just as I’m about to shudder, his lips reach my ear and so low that I almost don’t hear it, but resonant with meaning, he whispers those three words that I’ve been dying to hear.

  “I love you.”

  My eyes had fluttered shut at his caresses, but now, they pop open. “You do?”

  “Yeah. You’re my little lioness.”

  Lips twitching in both amusement and bemusement, I mutter, “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

  “You should. It was meant as one.” His lips travel back to my chin, one kiss at a time and each one punctuating a word. “Strong. Courageous. Loving. Giving.” He sighs as our lips brush again. “It’s good to be home.” He slides down so that he’s lying beside me again and not leaning over me. “Now then, tell me what really went on in New Orleans.”

  “Oh, his dad tried to bribe me out of Zane’s life.” With a big stretch, I wriggle up and down the sheets and groan with the sheer pleasure of it, t
he delight in being alive and being sandwiched between guys who love me. Frickin’ love me.

  If I’d been a cheerleader back in high school, I might just have jumped up and done a few cheers.

  “He did what?”

  “Tried to bribe me like some maid who’d been knocked up by the master’s son.” The words are distorted by another yawn, but even so, I can feel him stiffen up on me. And not in a way I’ve become accustomed. “Hey,” I tell him. “Don’t worry. Zane was as pissed as you are. In fact, I was the only calm person in the room.”

  “Like that’s the truth.”

  Zane’s sleep-addled voice is warped all the more by the pillow covering his head and half of his mouth.

  “I thought I handled it with great aplomb.”

  There’s a feather down-muffled snort. “Did she just say aplomb?”

  “Yeah. She did.”

  Rolling my eyes at Jake’s grin and in the light from the hallway, I watch as Zane shoots up, sending what seems like millions of tiny and large muscles into rolling up and down his spine, and stretches. Then, as my heart stutters in my chest, he turns, a smile so blinding with love on his face as he reaches over me to press a kiss of welcome to Jake’s lips.

  I watch, in awe, as their mouths connect. In the play of early morning shadows and the hall light, I can see hard lips with soft flesh brushing and rubbing against the other, firm jaws stubbled with dark, short hairs grinding, and then, they part, and Zane bathes me with the light of that smile before kissing me too.

  Feeling like the cat that got the cream, and wriggling on the bed in reaction to his caressing mouth, a chuckle escapes me as he mutters against my lips, “I thought I was the writer? It’s way too early for words like aplomb.”

  “You’re not supposed to make me laugh when you’re kissing me,” I chide around a grin.

  “She’s right. There’s an unwritten law somewhere.” Jake’s mocking me, but from the hard-on rubbing against my hip, I know his mockery hides his arousal.

  Ha. He can’t hide it from me.