by Virna DePaul
“Ow,” her brother said.
Cara giggled and said, “I was only pinching you so that you knew I was real.”
“Yeah, right,” he said with a smile.
“Will you go back on your meds now?”
“I will,” he said. “I promise. But for a few minutes will you just sit with me?”
“Sure,” she said.
“Cara?”
“Yes, Glenn?”
“Will you say the poem for me?”
“Sure,” she said again, “Close your eyes and rest your head, okay?”
Glenn laid his head back into the pillow on the recliner and closed his eyes.
It was obvious how much her brother meant to her, and something sharp and hard tugged at Branden’s chest. Because in realizing how much Cara’s brother meant to her, he realized how much Cara meant to him.
She started speaking in a low melodic voice about darkness wrapping him in a tight embrace, the moon shining rays on his sleepy face, and him sleeping peacefully as the stars kept their nightly vigil.
Branden felt himself relaxing. His own eyes drooping.
God, how wonderful would it be to be held in this woman’s arms every night as he drifted to sleep, knowing she would be there when he woke every morning?
Branden heard movement in the hall. Reluctantly, he slipped out of the bathroom and back into the empty room. Seeing Cara with her brother was a firsthand example of how much loyalty and love Cara had to offer someone.
Before he could stop himself, the question formed in his mind: could Cara ever love him?
He shut down the thought—the yearning—immediately.
Love was a word he’d permanently rejected from his vocabulary, except when thinking of his little sisters. Love wasn’t part of who he was. Never had been, never would be.
Love made you stupid. Made you blind. Made you see others in a way that wasn’t true—wasn’t real. Romance movies weren’t real—the shit in the papers and magazines about true love wasn’t real, either. Love wasn’t real. Yeah, his sister Rachel called him a cynic, but he figured realist was the right word.
Because his mother had proven how idiotic “love” was, time and time again, falling in love with men who treated her like shit. Treated her son and daughters like less than shit. Half his stepfathers had beaten the hell out of him, the other half had beaten the hell out of his mom. One had even beaten the girls. And still his mother would cling to their ankles as they tried to walk out the door, suitcase in hand, kicking off the sobbing woman who kept proclaiming her love over and over and over again. Love was about being weak and needy and desperate.
But Cara, gently whispering poetry to her brother, soothing his agitation and sending him off to sleep, had expressed love through each word. Through the lilt and tone in her voice. She hadn’t needed anything from her brother. Had simply loved him.
But love couldn’t be that simple…could it?
Chapter 19
Outside Windorne, Cara shuddered and hunched against the brush of cool wind as Branden opened his car door for her. The visit with Glenn had sucked her dry, made her cold.
“Thank you,” she said simply, not sure if she was thanking him for opening the door, or for bringing her here, or for not judging her brother.
“You take on too much,” he told her.
Cara’s emotions shifted. She folded her arms against her chest, refusing to enter the car. “You don’t get to say that to me. You’re my boss and my…lover.” But maybe he was more than that. Maybe he was becoming her friend. Because he’d certainly acted like it, given he’d accompanied her here. Whatever she labeled him, she’d been grateful for his company. In a way, he’d make her feel less alone. He’d made her feel like if she needed him, he’d be there for her.
“You hesitated before you said the word lover. Why?”
Of course he wouldn’t let that slide. She sighed. “I guess…I don’t really know what we are, and that makes the rules blurred.”
Branden put his arm around her, but she noticed he didn’t say anything about what they “were.” Finally, he just said, “Wanna go get a cup of coffee?”
“It’s midnight.”
“Are you going to turn into a pumpkin?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I guess you have a point. Let’s go get some coffee.”
After they both climbed into the car, Branden drove them a few blocks down the street and around the corner to an all-night diner. After the waitress filled their cups and walked away, Branden said, “I didn’t ask before, but I’ll ask now. What’s wrong with your brother?”
She put her cup down, hesitated, then said, “When Glen and I were young, our family went through some…serious upheaval. Then my dad died, my mom had a nervous breakdown, and Glenn and I were doing our best to hold it all together. We’d both gotten jobs and everything was…well, none of it was good, but it was fine, you know? Then one day Glenn goes to work at the burger stand in our town and we get a call from his boss. He was arrested because he was standing nude in the drive-through window right at lunch hour.”
“Nude? That must have been a surprise to hear.”
Cara gave a hollow laugh. “I was only fifteen. When we went to the police station to pick him up, the policeman told us that he had been committed on a 5150 for a psychiatric hold and evaluation because he told them that ‘the voices’ told him to do it. He spent about a week in a psychiatric hospital and they sent him home on meds. That was his first psychotic break.”
“Schizophrenia?” he guessed.
She nodded. “Yeah, only it’s really strong. They call it ‘treatment-resistant.’ He does marginally well when he’s on meds, but marginally is the operative word—he can’t function completely on his own, although he’s tried several times. My mom couldn’t take care of him, so we found the assisted-living facility for him. For the most part, he does well and he’s happy there, but the illness sometimes breaks through the meds and he occasionally has another episode. I try to see him every weekend, but it doesn’t always happen.”
“Wow, so you take care of him and it sounds like your mother, as well. That’s a lot on your plate.”
She shrugged and said, “Everyone does what they have to, I guess. They’re family; you can’t turn your back on them.”
“I understand that,” he said.
“You mentioned all your sisters and seem happy when you talk about them, but you don’t mention your mom, just that she’s been married a lot. Do you have a good relationship with her?”
“I have as much of one as I can,” he said. “When a mother spends most of her time looking for a new husband or trying to get rid of the loser she has, the kids get a little lost in the shuffle. But I love my sisters. I stay in touch with them and help them as much as I can. The poor girls actually have it worse than me; they all had criminals or abusers or alcoholics or druggies for fathers. Mine was just absent.”
“And Davies?” she said, surprising him.
“He and my mom didn’t have any kids, thank God.”
“I saw a yearbook photo of you on the internet. Underneath that photo it said Branden Davies. You changed your name?”
“With every new father before I was eighteen. My mother insisted. I knew they weren’t going to be around long enough for the ink to dry on the court papers…but she believed differently. I changed my name back to the one I was born with, not because I was trying to hide anything but because it seemed most honest. And, of course, the less association I could have with Davies, the better.” He hesitated, then took her hand. “I’m sorry about what he did to your family.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. I just hope justice is served one day. Sometimes I even wish I could be the one to dish it out.”
“I don’t blame you for wanting revenge, but Davies isn’t someone you want to mess with, Cara.” He looked at his watch. It was almost two a.m. “You ready to head home?” he asked.
Home. He said it like h
is penthouse apartment really was her home. Sometimes he acted like he wanted it to be. Part of her wanted it, too. Not because his home was swanky, but because he was there. And when they were together, Cara felt more at peace.
Was it possible that despite her difficulty accepting it, Branden wanted more from her than just a temporary sexual relationship?
“Sure,” she said. “Only… You know, we’ve talked a lot about our pasts. Not really our present or future. What is this between us, Branden? What are we doing?”
“You were researching me on the internet, Cara. What do you think we’re doing?”
At his question, she blushed wildly, but didn’t answer.
Branden took in a deep breath and let it out before saying, “I’m not sure, Cara. I know that I’ve never felt so strongly about a woman before. I know that every day I discover something else about you that makes me want to be around you. You’re beautiful, that was the first thing I noticed, but now I know you’re brilliant and kind and hardworking. Responsible and loyal and seriously better in bed than any other woman could possibly dream of being.”
She liked that he seemed as confused by their relationship as she was but that he was still willing to admit he felt something for her, even if he couldn’t quite say what that was. Cara laughed and said, “Maybe we should start a mutual admiration society.”
“Do you admire me?”
“How could I not?”
“I want more time with you. Outside of work. How’d you like to stay at the big house this weekend?”
“A few of my best fantasies have involved that place,” she admitted.
“And was I in any of those fantasies?”
“Baby, you were the star.”
Branden drove them out to his mansion on Long Island. When they got there, he told her he was going upstairs to draw her a bubble bath and she could sit in it as long as she wanted to and let the stress wash away. “There’s wine in the kitchen. Make yourself at home,” he said before he went upstairs.
Cara poured herself a glass of wine and wandered around the massive house. She’d been there the night of the party, of course, but she took her time drawing it all in again, including the thirty-foot-high ceilings and crystal chandeliers, as well as the artwork that she knew were originals and should probably be hanging in a museum somewhere. The vases in the house were all filled with fresh flowers and one whole side of the house opened up to huge windows that faced out over the ocean.
She was staring at the stunning view when Branden walked up behind her and kissed her neck. “Hmm,” she said.
“Enjoying the wine?”
“And the view. It’s breathtaking. If I lived here, I don’t think I could bear to leave.”
“If you lived here, I’d feel the same way.”
She sucked in a breath and turned to face him. He kissed her and she marveled that the touch of his mouth on hers was even more breathtaking than the ocean view.
“Your bath is waiting,” he said when he pulled away. Taking her hand, he led her up the stairs and into the bathroom.
Cara gasped aloud when she walked into the room. Branden had dimmed the lights and lit several beautifully scented candles. He had soft jazz music playing from speakers that were built into the walls around the room, and the deep, oversized black marble tub was filled with water and bubbles. Next to that was a shower the size of most ordinary bathrooms and it was entirely made of glass. One wall was completely mirrored and the other wall held a marble vanity and dressing stool. The black marble commode was hidden in a separate room off to the side.
“This is amazing, Branden,” she said.
“I’m glad you like it. I left a towel and a robe here for you.”
“You’re not going to join me?” she said with a pout.
“I didn’t say that. Why don’t you slip in and I’ll stay here in case you need any help.”
Cara smiled and started stripping off her clothes. She looked directly into Branden’s eyes as she took each piece of clothing off and tossed it to the floor. When she was completely nude, she said, “Maybe a little help into the tub?”
The tub was huge and sunken. There were two marble steps that led up on the outside. Branden took her hand as she stepped up to the top and held on to it as she entered the water. Sinking down into the warm, soft bubbles, she moaned in pleasure.
“Is the temperature okay?” he asked.
She leaned her head back against the vinyl pillow that was attached to the side of the tub and smiled. “Mm… It’s perfect.”
Branden sat on the side of the tub and picked up the soap. “May I?”
“Please.”
Branden picked up a big fluffy sponge and saturated it with the body wash that sat on the shelf above the tub. It smelled like lemon and sage, and the aroma of it alone relaxed her.
Branden lifted one of her arms and caressed the soapy sponge from her shoulder to her hand, massaging as he went along. He did the other arm next, and then started on her shoulders and neck, moving the slick sponge in slow circles. He ran it down her spine and she shivered with delight, and then he ran it back up to her shoulders and repeated the process until he’d washed her entire back.
Gently, he nudged her back and she leaned against the pillow again. She closed her eyes as he began to work on her chest. He washed and massaged near her neck, and then made his way down to her breasts. He circled them with the sponge, making her squirm as he cupped each one in his hand and lifted to wash underneath. He pinched her nipples, sending shivers down her spine.
He moved down to her abdomen then, and it was hard for her not to arch her back and beg for him to touch her between her legs. He washed down her sides and then across the top of her pubic mound, causing her to squirm and groan. He moved the sponge to her inner thigh and worked his way very slowly down her leg, across and behind her knee, over her calf and to her foot, which he lifted up out of the water and caressed as he washed it. Then he sat that leg down gently and began washing the other.
When he made it to the top of that thigh, he grazed her pussy with his fingers. She convulsed at the touch.
He leaned in and set down the sponge, pressing his lips to hers as he did. He took her hand in his and stood up, urging her along with him. He turned on the handheld showerhead, made sure the water was warm, then began rinsing the fragrant bubbles from her body. He rinsed her neck and shoulders and then each arm and leg. Then he changed the setting on the showerhead and she suddenly felt jets of warm water pelting her breasts and nipples. The sensation was electric, and Branden had to put his hand on the small of her back to keep her from falling against the wall.
When he finished tantalizing her breasts, he moved down to her abdomen, finally coming to the aching spot between her legs. He adjusted the spray once more so that it was a single, concentrated jet. Then he doubled her delight by using his fingers to hold open her lips and allowing the jet of water to land directly against her hard, swollen clit. She moved her hips and moaned and shivered.
He turned her around to face the wall and brought her arms up so that she was leaning forward against it. He began rinsing the top of her back, over her shoulders, the small of her back, and across the soft cheeks of her firm ass. He used one hand again to open her up, this time from behind. He let the water hit her pussy from that angle and then he concentrated between her ass cheeks.
He worked her there for a while, until she felt like she would come from the spray of the water alone. She’d never felt anything like it, and she almost laughed at herself as she thought, I gotta get me one of these.
He moved the spray to the backs of her legs, then washed down to her feet. He turned off the water and twisted to grab a towel behind him. He dried her off from head to toe, pausing only to kiss her lips, and then brush his tongue across each one of her hardened nipples. When she was completely dry, he helped her into the fluffy robe and pulled her in for another deep kiss.
Then he said, “I’m going to take a quick shower.�
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Shaking, she took a seat in front of the glass shower on the vanity stool. She watched him strip and took note of his beautiful erection as he did. He stepped in, and with his back facing her, he put his head and shoulders underneath the spray. She watched as it cascaded down over his shoulders and back, rolling off of his hard ass and dripping down into the floor. He took the bar of soap off the shelf and turned around to face her, then grinned as he realized she was watching him. He finished soaping the rest of his body and rinsed.
He toweled off and put on his own robe. Then taking her hand he said, “I want to show you something.” He led her through a gigantic master bedroom to a set of glass doors. He opened them and they stepped out into the cool night air. The view from the balcony was magnificent. The ocean rolled across big, jagged rocks that jutted out from the hills surrounding the mansion, and Cara could actually taste the salty air on her tongue. Positioned so that no one could see them from above or below, it was a private alcove perfect for making love.
He reached down and undid her robe, opening the front of it and doing the same to his own.
“Are you sure we won’t be seen?” she whispered.
“I trust Alex with my life. There are no cameras or bugs on my place. Plus, we’re totally hidden from view from anywhere here.”
He pulled her up against his chest and covered her mouth with his. She pulled herself up on her toes and deepened the kiss, pushing the robe off him completely and running her hand across his strong back and shoulders. He steered her to a lounge chair by the door and then brushed her robe away, as well. Sitting in the chair, he pulled her into his lap, facing him. Her legs straddled him and his hard cock pressed up between her legs. She pressed her clit against his shaft, moving up and then back, using him for her own pleasure.
The cool night air caused new sensations as her body heated. She rubbed herself against him, coating him with her natural lubricant. She turned her face down toward his for another kiss, sliding her tongue in and out of his mouth seductively. They were both breathing heavy and he put his hands on her ass, pulling her in tight against him and then pushing her back. He broke their kiss to bend his head down and take one of her firm nipples in his mouth. He sucked it in hard and fast, causing her to gasp and then moan.
