When they returned home from the hospital and the limo was surrounded by the paparazzi, all clamoring for a candid shot of the new baby, Andrea squeezed Ivan’s hand.
“Let’s accommodate them, for once. I’ll cover Richard’s head so he won’t be blinded by the flashes. All they’ll see is a blue-blanketed bundle and you and I smiling. What do you say?”
Ivan shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”
He powered down the window, much to the shocked surprise of the paparazzi. As Ivan held up a hand, they grew quiet.
“If you promise to stand back, my wife and I will exit the vehicle and let you get a photo of us with the baby. No loud yelling that will frighten our son. Understood?”
Stunned to silence, they moved back as Ivan and Andrea exited. The two of them smiled down at their sleeping, fully blanketed son as the flashbulbs exploded from every direction but the paparazzi actually remained silent as Ivan had asked them to do.
With a dismissive nod, Ivan resettled his wife and son in the limo. For once, the crowd parted politely and allowed them to proceed through the gate.
“Guess our son will make his debut in the rags tomorrow,” Ivan said with a chuckle.
“That is one gossip article I will cut out and save,” Andrea said as Ivan leaned to kiss her.
“You were right, hon. All they wanted was a posed shot.”
“Wow! Ivan Littlefield admitting I had the better idea,” she quipped. “That’s a first.”
He chuckled. “But not the last time you’ll hear it.”
Andrea leaned her head on his broad shoulder with a sigh.
“I feel so blessed, Ivan.”
“So do I.”
As soon as the limo pulled up before the front door, Lydia, Millie and Alan clamored out of the house, welcoming them. They were so solicitous in getting Andrea and the newborn inside and upstairs that Andrea, laughing, commented they weren’t breakable.
After everyone had taken a peak and Lydia and Millie had gone back downstairs, Andrea, Ivan and Alan stood looking down at the baby in his luxurious Intellicot crib.
Glancing around at the former indoctrination room, now transformed into an elaborately redecorated nursery, Andrea was inundated with the memories made there and, holding fast to her husband’s eyes, knew he was remembering, too.
“This is one fancy crib,” Alan said, breaking into their silent, mutually shared moment of reverie.
“Man, this is one hell of a fancy nursery. He’s a lucky kid.”
“We’re the lucky ones,” Ivan said as he hugged Andrea to him.
“Did you send your mother an announcement of the birth, Ivan?” Andrea asked.
“I did, and she actually phoned me, said to expect a gift shortly and that she would perhaps come later, when the overseas deal she is negotiating has come to a satisfactory conclusion.”
Alan shook his head. “Typical. Nothing is more important to Mother than making more money.”
Andrea, always the peacemaker, said, “Well, I believe she’ll come when she can. Just think of your mother responding as a first step toward mending the gulf between you guys.”
Ivan’s only comment was a wry, “We’ll see, hon.”
Not wanting to say what he was thinking, Alan changed the subject with, “You know you’ve got a good looking kid here. You two did good!”
“We think so,” Andrea agreed with a laugh.
Alan patted Ivan’s back.
“Thanks for the namesake, bro. Dad would be proud, too. You know, if Richard Alan is half the man his father is, has half the heart of his mother and even a portion of his uncle’s great talent, he will definitely make his mark in the world.”
Watching Ivan and Alan laughing together, Andrea’s thoughts drifted back in time to the letter Alan had given to her safe keeping the day he announced he was leaving.
When he had decided to stay, he’d told her to tear it up but she had asked if she could give it to Ivan instead and Alan had reluctantly agreed.
And later, when they were alone, Ivan, struggling to contain his emotions, had read it to her.
Seeing the bond between the brothers now, those words drifted through Andrea’s mind, widening her smile and warming her heart.
“I know I have been a disappointment to you, Ivan, but I want you to know that as a big brother, you have always been my hero. I’m sorry for letting you down so many times. I always wished I could be the man you are, or even half the man you are. Regardless of how I’ve acted, I want you to know that I admire and respect you and always will.
“And if I could have chosen a brother, Ivan, it would have been you.”
As soon as Ivan had read that letter, he had sought Alan out and although Andrea didn’t know what the brothers had said to each other, she did know that now Ivan and Alan seemed inseparable; that truly, they were now a united family.
Ivan broke into Andrea’s silent reverie with the comment, “Speaking of his uncle’s talent, Alan, you’d better get a move on or you’ll be late for your performance.
And pretty soon now, you’ll be packing them in at The New Start. It’s almost up and running and I will consider myself lucky to have you headlining there.”
“Are you kidding me, bro? Headlining in that fancy new casino of yours will be a dream come true for a performer. And that new song Andrea wrote is the one I’ll open with. It is definitely a hit. Ivan, knowing that you’ve arranged for a demo to be made, well, hell, you have put me on the map, bro.”
“Well, you're doing a great job at the Royale Flush, Alan, and I know Andrea’s song is going to be a hit. So it’s a win-win all around. And as soon as Andrea is feeling up to it, and we feel comfortable leaving Richard awhile in the care of Lydia, we are both going to be on that front row I told you once I would be. Remember?”
“I remember and I’m looking forward to that. Okay, gotta run. See you guys later.”
After Alan had gone, Ivan pulled Andrea close and delivered a sound kiss.
“Thank you for my handsome son, Andrea.”
“He is handsome, isn’t he? I hope he grows up to look exactly like you, Ivan.”
“Guess next we’ll have to have a girl who looks like you, right? I am so looking forward to practicing for that girl.”
“Me, too,” she admitted with a sigh, snuggling against him. “Oh, Ivan, I’m so happy now, with you and the baby and your brother Alan here with us and my song about to be demoed. Life is good. And everything is exactly the way it should be.”
“Yes, it is,” Ivan agreed, realizing he could only halfheartedly agree with that statement, because everything wasn’t perfect. For months he had been fighting a self-loathing battle for not confronting Carl Cothane, and was still struggling with wanting to rip the man’s head off and spit in the stub of his neck for what he had done to Alan.
That had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, just letting ‘nature take its course’ the way Alan had made him promise he would. And, given Cothane’s excessive drinking, his damaged liver and deteriorating health, coupled with his age, he had developed AIDS just as had predicted and it was fast taking a deadly toll.
With Andrea’s head resting on his shoulder, as he stared down at his son, Ivan, for the first time in his life, felt a sense of total peace wash over him.
In that quiet moment of inner revelation, he laid the past to rest and finally let go of the bitterness.
When his son awakened and stirred restlessly, Andrea lifted him and Ivan held out his hands.
Ivan cradled him, kissing his downy head, his feelings plainly etched on his face as he said, “God, Andrea, I want so much for him. I want to shield him and protect him from the evils of this crazy world. What if I can’t do all that? What if I fail him? What if…?”
Smiling, Andrea laid a finger across his mouth.
“Sssh!”
She was reminded suddenly of that strange and wonderfully arousing day when she’d first arrived at this house as Ivan’s frightened bride, f
ull of self doubt.
With a newfound bravado and the self assurance of someone totally comfortable now in her role of mother and wife, Andrea repeated the defiant words Ivan had spoken to her that night she was so fearful.
“Remember, Littlefields don’t live by ‘what ifs’, my pet!”
Ivan laughed, shaking his head. “Unfair, quoting my words back at me, Mrs. Littlefield.”
She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. When their lips parted, she said, “I love you so much, Ivan.”
His smoldering gray eyes devoured her as he declared, “God, I love you, too.”
Andrea cherished those three powerful words, now freely given and received, as she looked at the man who had held her heart in his hands from the moment she’d met him.
She felt like screaming in jubilation, yes, yes, yes at the top of her lungs, but she simply said, “I know.”
Because at last she did.
Read on for a sneak peak at
UNCENSORED PASSION
Book 1 of The Men of Passion Series
Coming Soon
a new erotic romance series
by Bobbi Cole Meyer
from Arrow Publications, LLC™
Chapter 1
Kayla Saradon did not see herself as others saw her. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a myriad of imperfections—a woman who never quite measured up in her father’s stern eyes—a woman who was her mother’s reflected embarrassment as they shared a mutual amoral proclivity for innovative sexual freedom, and a woman always on the edge of self-fulfillment.
From a pragmatic, rather than an egotistical point of view, Kayla knew she was attractive, but she was completely oblivious to the fact that her mane of flaming strawberry blonde hair, her flawless, creamy, unblemished skin and her striking figure made her, in everyone else’s eyes, model perfect.
She also knew her expressive green eyes were one of her most compelling features, so she used them to full advantage. Having mastered the art of sensually unspoken conversation, she oftentimes shuttered them to relay an intensely provocative suggestion in a flirtatious way that not only drew those males she sought to know, but ultimately obtained her desired sensual results.
When she was sexually aroused, Kayla’s eyes would change to reflect the depth of her emotional temperature, seeming to emit an iridescent light, especially when she was in the middle of an orgasm. She learned this the night one of her more poetic lovers called them sexually luminescent, commenting that her green eyes radiated in a feral, catlike way as she reached a climax. He added, “Kayla Sarandon, you are a very seductive, mesmerizing lady that can tempt a man to reach beyond his sexual limits, but should I die of a heart attack on your bed, at least I will die smiling.”
Later, every time Kayla recalled that night, she had to smile, remembering Michael, a passing-through-Nashville-fling she could not resist after meeting him at a cocktail party. However, the wit and charm she had found so intriguing had quickly dissipated after the passion had cooled and she digested his parting comment as he rolled to the side of the bed and reached to pat her butt in a dismissive way.
“That was great, babe. Just what I needed to round out a good day. Too bad we’re just ships passing in the night. But as much as I enjoyed you, I’m married and unavailable. You need to find someone as hot as you are; someone who is available because you are too much a woman not to be fucked thoroughly and often.”
Kayla was engrossed in her thoughts about that night as she pulled her vehicle into the first bay of her three-car garage and turned it off. Emitting a sigh of relief, she exited the car and stepped through the garage door into the side hallway leading to the kitchen.
She immediately released her shoulder-length hair, always tamed with conditioners and worn in a severe, sedate bun during the day. It was the first thing she did the minute she closed the door of her residence every evening. Only inside these walls did she feel free to let her hair down, figuratively and literally.
As always upon entering her home, Kayla, then kicked off her shoes and shed her suit coat, the hasty discarding of these items representing the freeing of her spirit to indulge in the essence of the behind-doors life that sustained her.
The shoes were immediately picked up by one ‘husband’; the coat taken by another before she was embraced by all.
“Glad you're home, baby,” Luke said as he kissed her tenderly.
“Likewise,” Lee said as he gave her a hug.
Harm, the most sensitive of them, cupped her face, staring into her eyes. “You look tired, hon. How about I fix you a cocktail and you relax before dinner? How does that sound?”
Kayla smiled. “Sounds great.”
J.J. was the last to embrace her, smoothing her hair back before giving her a passionate kiss, which was the only kind young J.J. ever gave. “You make the boring day worthwhile when you come home, Kayla,” he said as he reluctantly released her.
She followed behind them into the kitchen, silently critiquing them all on the way, satisfied and smiling at her choice of men.
Her ‘husbands’, ranging in age from 19 to 39, though vastly different both in appearance and personalities, were alike in that they were all as committed to their adopted, lusty and private polyandry lifestyle as she.
Jonathan Javiero Romero (J.J.) was the most recent addition to her sexual entourage. And as she settled at the breakfast bar and took the drink Harm had fixed her, Kayla smiled to herself, thinking, I sure made the right choices in my men.
She caught J.J.’s eye and returned the smoldering smile he flashed at her. She knew he would be hard and almost reached out to confirm that thought, thinking, sweet J.J. is one hot, young stud!
* * *
Nineteen-year-old J.J. Romero had relocated from San Antonio, Texas to Nashville, originally to attend Vanderbilt University before deciding that that particular phase of academia wasn’t for him and summarily dropped out.
His decision having alienated him from his influential and socially conscious parents, who summarily cut off his financial support, J.J. found himself taking odd jobs until he could decide what he really wanted to do with his life. Thus the pool boy persona he adopted when he answered the ad for a job in the local paper. He had no clue that this twist of fate was destined to mark the beginning of his unique and socially taboo life within Kayla Saradon’s household.
Kayla clad in a hot pink string bikini was lounging beside the pool, studying the young man as he worked, noticing the way the sun glinted off his raven hair and impressed with the way his muscled shoulders moved as he scooped debris off the surface of the water. J.J.’s shy personality was obvious to Kayla, as she listened to Luke instructing him as to what his duties would be as pool boy. And when he turned to stare at her and their gazes locked, there was an instant connection, one she felt tingling in her groin. Bedroom eyes, she silently mused. He definitely has bedroom eyes.
As he continued to stare at Kayla, J.J. was only half listening. He was mesmerized by the look she was giving him; a look he’d seen in a lot of girls’ eyes, but this was the first time he had seen it emanating from a woman like Kayla Saradon.
He swallowed hard as he tore his attention away from her and focused on Luke who was going over the daily routine pertaining to the job, such as the daily vacuuming, cleaning of the filters, using the chemicals properly, storing the equipment, and so on.
J.J. continued skimming the pool as Luke walked over to confer with Kayla. She flashed him a white-toothed smile as she nodded to whatever Luke was quietly saying to her, then whispered something in Luke’s ear. Luke nodded then stood and came back over to J.J.
“How old did you say you are?”
“Nineteen.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I don’t have a place right now. I crashed at the Y last night. Guess I’ll stay there until I can get enough work to get a place.”
Luke glanced back at Kayla and J.J. caught the almost imperceptible nod she gave. “You could stay in the po
ol house if you like,” Luke said mildly.
What? “Really? Would that rent be taken out of my pay?”
“No rent. We’ll give it a go and see if you like it here; see if you want to stay. By the way, since you’re new in town, made any connections? Girlfriend maybe?”
“No girlfriend.” Where is this conversation going?
J.J. frowned as he glanced around at the other two men lounging by the pool, his gaze involuntarily going back to Kayla who was studying him. “Ah, mind if I ask a question?”
“No, of course not. Shoot.”
“Are you all related somehow?”
Luke laughed. “You could say that. We consider ourselves family.”
“Are you her husband?”
Luke cast a quick glance at Kayla and she nodded again. Confused about the situation, J.J. was aware Kayla had silently given her consent to what Luke was about to say as the man draped an arm about his shoulders and walked him to a chair, motioning that he should sit.
“In answer to your question, yes and no.”
“Huh? You lost me, man.”
“Tell me, J.J., if you don’t have a girlfriend, any permanent commitments in your life at the moment, is some girl waiting for you to return to San Antonio maybe?”
“No. No one. Why?”
“What is your philosophy about marriage?”
J.J. shrugged. “I think a piece of paper and some priest saying words don’t make a marriage, and it sure as hell don’t make it work.”
“That sounds kind of bitter for a young man like you. How did you reach that conclusion?”
“My parents have been married most of their lives and both are miserable. They’ve stayed together because it’s expected of them; because they’re Catholic and don’t believe in divorce and because it would put a crimp in their social status,” he sneered. “So I guess I kinda believe marriage is a crock; not for me.”
“So, do you think love is a crock, too?”
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