Love and Whiskers
Page 58
Jane picked her daughter up and spun her around, set her down and looked into her daughter’s eyes and embraced her once again.
Henry slowly walked toward Jane and Ann, and the three of them joined hands and looked back toward Roderick. He was overcome with joy at his family’s reuniting. Jane let go of Ann’s hand and walked toward her husband. She placed her hand on his cheek, and Roderick placed his hand over hers and leaned into her touch. Jane tenderly kissed him and then whispered, “We will always be with you.” She placed her hand over his heart briefly and rejoined Ann and Henry.
Roderick gave her a puzzled look as Ann came up to him. She reached out, and he scooped her into his arms. Ann hugged her father so tightly, and Roderick almost couldn’t bear to let go. Ann kissed her father’s cheek, and said, “I love you, Papa.”
He set Ann back down, and she ran to her mother and Henry who each took one of her hands. The three of them looked back to Roderick one last time and started to walk away. Roderick tried to walk after them, but their specters had vanished into the night like a warm breath in the wintery night air.
***
Roderick awakened from his dream just as dawn was breaking. The fire had gone out, and the parlor was quite chilly. He slowly got up and wrapped a small blanket around his shoulders.
Roderick slowly made his way up the staircase toward Ann’s room. He glanced out of the hallway window overlooking Jane’s garden, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Roderick slowly opened the door to Ann’s bedroom, and he saw Neala sitting on the bed stroking Ann’s hair, her back facing Roderick. She glanced over her shoulder and stood up, wiping her face. She turned around to try and tell Roderick, but he wasn’t looking at her. Roderick was gazing at his daughter. He walked toward the bed taking careful footsteps as if he might topple over. He sat on the bed and pulled Ann’s body into his arms and started sobbing.
Roderick composed himself enough to choke out, “I love you too, my darling. I love you so very much.”
The End
Step Brother 911
The Olde Towne Tavern looked just as I remembered. Brick outside, red-nosed drunks holding up bar stools inside.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Justine Martin,” the bartender said. She came out from behind the bar and gave me an enthusiastic hug.
I smiled when she stepped back again. Kat hadn’t changed since high school, from her spiky black hair to her combat boots.
“What are you doing here?” She led me to a stool at the end of the bar and wiped up some condensation with a rag at her waist.
“I’m in town for my mother’s wedding. What are you doing here?”
Kat had big dreams once upon a time and none of them involved a bar in a suburb of New York City. She poured my dirty martini – extra dirty – and sighed. “Shit happens, you know?”
I nodded. I did know.
“My parents got divorced while I was in college and Mom couldn’t afford it anymore. I moved home, transferred to the community college, and got a job here. It was supposed to be temporary.”
“Sorry.”
She waved my apology away. “Forget it. What have you been doing? Did you ever make it to Africa like you dreamed?”
Oh, Africa. If only I had been able to go.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice said behind me. “Did you say Africa?”
Kat looked up and her mouth opened.
I turned around and nearly fell off my stool. A man – tall, well-muscled, dimpled – stood staring between the two of us, his hazel eyes inquisitive.
“I just got back from Africa,” he said.
Rumpled khakis and button-down shirt, combined with his tanned face, told me he spoke literally.
“Sorry, I’m Trey.” He stuck a hand out.
I shook his hand but couldn’t find any words.
Kat jumped to the rescue and introduced us both.
Trey sat on the stool next to me and ordered a beer. “I hope this won’t put me to sleep. I’m trying to stay up late enough to fight the jet lag.”
Nodding, I still couldn’t find words.
“Where in Africa were you?” Kat asked. She placed the beer in front of him. “Glass?”
He shook his head and raised the bottle to his lips. “Sudan. I spent a month helping in the refugee camps.”
As if his looks weren’t enough. Seriously, the guy could have walked off a movie screen instead of out of the savanna.
He turned his warm eyes on me and I decided I couldn’t sit here mutely and let him decide who I was. I’d have to show my personality.
“Very cool. I almost went to Botswana once.”
His gaze intensified. “Almost?”
A wry smile split my face. “Long story.”
“I have time.”
Oh my.
Recovering my wits, I said, “I thought you were afraid of falling asleep.”
He laughed, deep and rich. “Another time, then.”
“Oh?” He wanted to see me again? After only a few minutes?
He bit his lip, drawing my attention there. We’d only just met but I couldn’t help but think about kissing him. I bet he knew how to kiss a woman.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Kat said. “Another martini?”
Why not? I didn’t want to leave yet. Not with Trey here, warm and smiling and rugged.
I grinned, flipping my black curls over one shoulder. “Yes, please.” To Trey I said, “So, tell me about Sudan.”
Kat gave me a knowing look and moved away to the other end of the bar. Now I was alone with a handsome do-gooder. My wildest dreams were coming true. Well, not yet.
Trey told me about the kids he saw with distended bellies, babies he helped vaccinate, and the people with horrible, disfiguring injuries. The weight of these people from so far away sat heavy on his shoulders. Though warm, his eyes were haunted. He’d never forget any of the men, women, and children he met.
As his words ran out, our knees touched and electricity leaped between us.
“I don’t usually ask this, but…do you want to get out of here?” His voice was low and hoarse and made my heart stop beating. Just long enough for me to picture him on top of me, rough hands on my hot skin.
I swallowed. “I don’t usually do this either, but…yes.”
He smiled and some of the hurt in his eyes melted away.
***
Outside, he took my hand and led me down Main Street. His hand completely enveloped mine, strong, safe, and intimate. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach and I felt warm and excited and a bit nauseous.
I hadn’t been with anyone in a while. Months, at least. My job could be intense sometimes and it didn’t pay well. I didn’t get out much.
“It’s not far,” he said, eyes ahead.
We walked in silence for a few minutes. Had we left all our words in the bar? As long as we kept our mutual attraction, I didn’t mind if we left a few words behind.
Eventually the silence became unbearable. I had to find something to say.
“Do you live nearby too?” he asked first.
“Not anymore. I grew up here but I live in Brooklyn now.”
“Brooklyn’s great. What do you do?”
“I’m a third grade teacher.”
He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “A noble profession.”
Yes, noble, but not as sexy as a compassionate job working with African refugees.
We walked up the driveway of a modest one-story house lit from behind by the moon. The freshly cut grass scented the night air and I shivered.
“Cold?” Trey put an arm around me and pulled me close. The swarm of butterflies pushed up into my throat.
On the front stoop, he paused. “I hope this isn’t too forward, but I’ve wanted to do this since you said, ‘long story.’” He put his free hand on my cheek and tilted my face up to his and kissed me.
His lips started soft and warm and curious but before long they became insistent. One of his hands played in my hair and th
e other rested on my waist.
Too soon, he pulled away. He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out keys, and unlocked the door. But as soon as we’d stepped inside the small foyer and he’d closed the door, he pulled me to him again. My lips parted willingly.
He led me down a hallway I didn’t see and into a bedroom I couldn’t see. His hands never left my body—they moved all over my waist, hips, and ass. In the bedroom, I sat on the bed and he leaned into me, his warm mouth strong against mine. He pushed me down and rolled over me to his side. I turned to face him.
“Hi,” he said.
I grinned. “Hi.”
“Are you okay?”
Instead of answering, I kissed him and let my hands explore the hard planes of his chest, and his tight abs, how they naturally formed a V pointing to his cock. He groaned and I felt his mouth smile against mine.
Pulling back, I looked at him. The moon shone through the window and my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He reached for me, but I kept away, just long enough to kick my sandals off.
He laughed and electricity ran through me at the sound. His shoes clunked on the floor and he gave his full hazel-eyed attention back to me.
The butterflies flew away and I gave myself to the pleasure of his touch. He started with my face, kissing my lips, caressing my cheeks, playing with my hair. Soon, his hands and lips seemed to be everywhere at once. He’d lick one part of me and remove a piece of clothing from another.
My naked body rubbed against his clothed one. It was one of the sexiest things I’d ever experienced.
His belt buckle pushed into my belly. “Let me get rid of that,” he mumbled into my hair.
Leaning into him, I pulled him closer against me. “Let me.”
I yanked off his belt and loosened his pants. All the while, his fingers explored my body. My skin felt so hot. Everywhere he touched burned in the best way possible.
I pulled his shirt over his head. As soon as he was free, he wrapped his arms around me and let his hands roam down to my butt.
I pushed at his khakis and he pulled them off. Finally, we lay next to each other as equals, skin on skin.
He slid down my body, kissing as he went.
I writhed on the cool sheets, fingers curling into his hair.
His fingers explored my center, separating the pink folds and entering me. I moaned and gasped, which spurred him on. His fingers made me tingle. My thighs tightened against his hand so he laid one of his legs over mine.
His tongue flicked at my nipple. I whimpered.
It had been so long, I just wanted to go to the next step. I reached for his cock. “Come inside of me.”
His hand moved from between my legs to my face. He pressed his cock against my center and then he was inside me. I stretched around him, aching in the best way. The friction from his thrusts took me higher and higher until I couldn’t go further. Then I screamed his name and shuddered around him. With three last frantic thrusts, he grunted and I felt him come to completion, too.
He held me in his arms, kissing my temple and the top of my head, tracing my nose, my cheeks, my lips. After a few minutes, his hands became still, and his breathing deep and regular. I watched him sleep. Jet lag had finally claimed him and he lay so still and so peaceful.
Jet lag, because he’d flown home from Sudan today.
I remembered a time in my past when my dream had been to help people in Africa. The Peace Corps accepted me and chose to send me to Botswana. But before I left, my father had a heart attack and I stayed home to care for him and be with my mom.
My dream had shattered in a moment.
That dream had haunted me ever since. I didn’t regret my decision to stay. My parents had needed me then and I chose family over myself. I’d make the same choice today.
I couldn’t help but wonder how my life might be different had I had the chance to follow my dreams to Africa. Maybe I’d still be a teacher, maybe I’d still live in Brooklyn. I’d never know.
I also didn’t know where tonight would lead. Again, I had to choose my family.
As quietly as possible, I got out of Trey’s bed, put on my hastily discarded clothes, and found my way out of his house.
I walked back to the bar, got in my car, and headed to my mother’s. She’d need me in the morning. Her wedding day.
***
“Justine, what would I do without you?” Mom said as I put the finishing touches on her eye make-up.
“You’d have Eileen do it.” Her best friend was puttering around downstairs, performing last minute checks with the florist and caterer.
Mom swatted my hand playfully. “I’m glad we have these last few moments alone together.”
“Me, too.” Mom had been alone for several years after Dad died, and I was happy when she met Mark last year, a lawyer who made a good living and would take care of her.
“I’m so glad you’ll finally meet Mark’s son Trevor today. You’re both always so busy.”
As if I was in such a rush to meet my new brother, the fancy doctor. As a plastic surgeon, he made money changing women’s looks for men. I’d been busy giving a decent education to kids from impoverished neighborhoods. Yeah, I shouldn’t judge; I was still paying off student loans and might never be able to travel further than my suburban hometown. Certainly not to Africa.
An image of Trey licking his way down my body suddenly popped into my mind and my face flushed. For a change, there had been a perk to sleeping in my hometown last night.
“Today will be chaotic, of course,” Mom continued, interrupting my hot memory. “So, Trevor has invited us to dinner at his apartment in Manhattan tomorrow night. Isn’t that nice? It will give the four of us a chance to get to know each other and become more like a family before Mark and I leave for Tahiti.”
Yeah, nice. An intimate dinner in a fancy high-rise apartment overlooking one of the rivers. For Mom’s sake, I’d try to behave. I’d try not to berate my new stepbrother for being part of the problem, rather than the solution.
I gave Mom a last swipe of powder. “I’m really glad you found someone who makes you happy.”
She squeezed my hand and fought the tears puddling in her eyes. “Thank you, sweetie. You’ll find someone soon.”
Of course she didn’t know about last night. I pushed memories of Trey aside. Maybe I should have left a note with my number. Then I’d obsess about whether he’d ever call me. This way, it could be a beautiful memory. One I’d relive in my bed each night for months.
We joined Eileen downstairs and climbed into the waiting limo. She and Mom chattered the whole way to the hotel, especially about the honeymoon plans.
The hotel had been built when I was in elementary school and had been a big deal at the time. It looked like a large-scale Swiss chalet, an unusual architectural choice for a New York suburb.
We hustled Mom into a special lounge near the ballroom to await the strains of Pachelbel’s Canon. When the music started, I went out to meet my escort for our walk down the aisle.
A man waited for me in the entrance to the ballroom. His back was to me. He wore a black tuxedo and filled it out like it had been made for him. Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs reminded me of a certain someone I’d spent an enjoyable couple of hours with recently.
The man turned and I stopped walking. My heart may have stopped beating too.
“Justine.” Trey’s eyes took in my appearance, from my pointy-toed, sparkly heels, up my short pink chiffon dress, to the black curls piled on my head. “Wow, you look amazing.”
My face flushed again.
Eileen rushed up the aisle to us. “Come on guys, what are you waiting for?”
I looked at Trey again. He was clearly dressed as someone in a wedding party and I was supposed to be escorted by Mark’s son. He couldn’t be.
“You’re Trevor?”
He nodded and my expression turned to horror. I’d slept with him last night. With my….
Unlike me, Trey didn’t seem both
ered by what we’d done. He smirked.
“Justine and Trevor,” Eileen said. “Let’s go. Let’s get your parents married.”
Trey…Trevor…took my arm and started down the aisle.
I couldn’t believe it. The handsome, sweet, humanitarian I’d slept with last night was Trevor, the greedy plastic surgeon? How was this possible? I wasn’t sure which piece was the most disgusting. Who he really was, in terms of his lifestyle and true self? Or that he was about to be my stepbrother?
Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed it down. No matter what, I wouldn’t ruin my mother’s special day.
“Why didn’t you tell me your real name?” I whispered.
“My friends call me Trey, so I think of it as my real name.”
“Did you know who I really was?” He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have knowingly slept with his soon-to-be-sister. Right?
“Of course not,” he whispered back, smiling around at the people seated in the ballroom as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Then again, he didn’t have a care in the world. He made scads of money to spend on lavish city apartments and fast cars and trips around the globe. Okay, so I’d made it all up. I had no idea how he spent his money. I could only imagine.
“But we’re not actually related, you know,” he said. “We didn’t do anything wrong last night.”
Last night. I remembered his mouth on mine and heat burned low in my belly. I shook off the memory. Now was definitely not the time.
We reached the minister and Mark. My new stepdad. Trey’s father.
Trey kissed my hand then took his place next to his dad. I stood on the other side of the minister and turned to watch my mother walk down the aisle. My heart expanded at the look of joy on her face.