Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Hey, buddy,” Mark said as Jordan was hanging up his raincoat. “Everything okay?”
“Everything is fucked up. Where’s Catherine?”
“Upstairs.” In the years he’d known Jordan, the man had never been a doom and gloom kind of guy. Something was screwing with him royally.
After he and Catherine had their incredible fuck on the table, they’d gone back to organizing the study. A few of the glass figures appeared to be unique and had been set aside. The rest were wrapped and packed. Then they’d started on the books. Her mother had had a ton of books, but they’d separated them and packed a good half of them. In all that time, they hadn’t speculated about what had driven Jordan into the rain, but it had been on both their minds.
Mark went back into the study after Jordan dragged up the stairs as though the world weighed down his shoulders. Sitting in the chair, he took a hefty gulp of coffee he’d brewed and poured just before Jordan came home. The hot, strong beverage perked him up, and with enthusiasm he dug into the stack of books they had yet to pack.
Miss Jacobsen’s tastes ran the gamut from the latest Mickey Spillane to Shakespeare. He picked up a copy of Madame Bovary to place it in the box when a folded piece of stationery fell out. He started to put it aside, but curiosity got the better of him.
He flipped the paper open and sat back to reach his cup.
Dearest Emma, you were spectacular last night. That dress made you look sexy as hell. I wanted my dick inside you the minute I walked through the door. I wish I could have stayed and fucked you all night long, but the bitch expected me home for some party she’d committed us to. Someday I’ll be rid of her, I promise. Until then, just know that you’re the only woman who keeps me satisfied.
Your Lion
What a bastard. From what he’d seen of Tipton, he sure as hell was no prize. But this Leo character was worse. Had he promised that he’d leave his wife? A married man who had this kind of setup would never desert the home fires. Why would he, when he had the best of both worlds? But even so, there was no sense of romance in this note, no hint of feelings other than for sex.
This was what frightened Catherine. It wasn’t the idea of loving two men, it was that someday she might be trapped, still loving two men who didn’t love her in return.
He began to fold the paper when he froze. This was fine stationery, bearing a watermark. In the center of the sheet, barely visible, was a shield. In the top-left corner a book lay open with the word Juris above it. In the lower right quadrant, an owl perched upon a gavel. He had seen this shield just the other day, above the gate at Jordan’s house.
Leo was his father.
Hell, what do I do now? Whenever he spoke of the senior Parnell, Jordan’s eyes practically held awe. He hero-worshipped his dad. Could he—should he—show him this note? And Catherine, too. She wanted to know who the second man was, but how would this change their dynamics?
“What’s that?”
Mark jerked his head up at Jordan’s voice. “Nothing,” he said. “It fell out of one of these books. Did you talk with Catherine?”
“I tried, but I couldn’t find the right words.”
“Can you tell me? How bad can this be compared to the shit we’ve already faced together?”
“I’m not sure I can talk to anybody about it right now.”
“Well, when you’re ready, you know where to find me.”
That gave him the answer he needed. Whatever was eating Jordan, Mark didn’t want to complicate it by proving to him that his father was a heartless bastard who spent his days and nights fucking the mother of the woman they were now both fucking.
There’s a difference. We love her. We want her.
But in the eyes of an outsider—in the eyes of God, which was the only thing Catherine cared about—how different would it seem?
Jordan stood at the opened desk, pulling out papers and separating them into piles. Mark slid the folded note into his shirt pocket. The old saying was that bad news spread like wildfire while good news took its time. In this case, later would suit the bad news just fine.
* * * *
She was lost in a sexual haze. Earlier, when they retired for the night, she had kneeled over Jordan’s naked body, tentatively taking his cock into her mouth. Behind her, Mark eased his way into her ass. She’d never even used that term for her body part a few weeks ago, and now she allowed a man to use it for sex. But Holy Father, it feels so very, very good.
And so wicked. She reveled in performing acts that the nuns had preached against her whole life. They didn’t preach against all of them. She doubted anyone at St. Agnes knew that men used a woman’s ass to come to climax. Or that the feel of a man’s cock in a woman’s mouth produced such a sense of power and desire.
Mark pushed ever so gently, and she took in more of Jordan. He caressed her head and stroked the hair back from her face.
“Oh, yes, baby, yes, that feels so fucking good,” he muttered. She flicked her tongue against the bottom of his penis. “Holy fuck!” He squeezed her head to hold her still a moment and then said on a moan, “Do it again.”
Mark reached under her and rubbed her clitoris. When she jerked with the contact, she both moved back onto Mark’s cock and dropped her head to the root of Jordan’s. He pulsed in her mouth, and she sucked at him. His taste, his smell, the thrill of rubbing the vein that throbbed beneath her tongue—all of these threatened to throw her over the edge of reason.
Mark thrust deeply into her, stroking her butt and up her back. He leaned over and lightly bit her shoulder and then began increasing his rhythm. His scrotum slapped her butt. His breathing matched his strokes. Wildly, she set her own pace, raising her head up and down, stroking with her tongue, rubbing her lips around the crown, sucking him in. She found his scrotum and stroked it firmly.
“God!” Jordan tried to lift her head, but she was mindless, not even aware of what she was doing. But she did know that she was on the verge of an orgasm different from any of the others they had given her. She participated fully in this venture, even if she took them in as a crazed animal might. Nothing about this moment was sane or civilized. She craved release and in just this way, with just these men.
She came on a deep moan, transferred to Jordan through his cock held tightly in her mouth. He joined with his own groan of release, his cock throbbing against the back of her throat. At first, she choked, but then, maybe because she was spinning through space and not thinking, she relaxed and swallowed instinctively. He tasted as he smelled—masculine and strong.
Mark held off stroking her clitoris and slowed his pounding while she and Jordan came. But then he started again, his breathing harsh. Jordan adjusted himself on the bed so he could reach her breasts. He took a nipple in his mouth and suckled while he fingered her clitoris and pussy. She came again, hardly down from her first flight into the universe.
Then Mark came, holding her close, his cock buried in her ass.
When he pulled out, Jordan crawled between her legs. He pushed her knees apart and lowered his mouth to her pussy. Mark took her breast, lightly biting and sucking, licking and nipping, while Jordan mined her pussy. She came a third time, crying out from sheer pleasure and fantasy.
Nothing could destroy this. She loved her men, and they loved her. Nothing but good could come from such trust and goodness of heart. They would make a future.
* * * *
Jordan dropped to sit on the porch steps. In the predawn light, he hoped that somewhere within the sound of crashing waves he would find answers. Should he tell Catherine about his father? Should he give her the details she surely would ask for once he started down that path? And what in hell should he do about his mother? She’d confessed to murdering Catherine’s mother, and he had absolutely no doubt that she had done the deed. His family had done its worst to hers. How could he ever make it up to her? How could she ever forgive him?
“Yeah, that’s right. It’s all about you
, you dumb ass. You had to go and fall in love with Emma Jacobsen’s daughter. And a God damned nun to boot.”
“Is this a closed conversation, or can anyone join in and call you a dumb ass?” Mark asked through the screen door.
“Christ! Isn’t there anywhere a man can go to be alone?”
Mark’s cane tapped the floor, something Jordan noticed he’d taken to doing instead of tapping his foot.
“Fuck, yeah. You can have all the fucking privacy you want.” He began closing the front door.
“Hold up.” Jordan took a breath and let it out. “I’m sorry. This has been a hell of a day, but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come on out if you want to beard the lion.”
Mark stepped out, bare-chested and barefoot. He eased down onto the step above Jordan.
“We got a lot done today. The study’s about packed.”
“Yeah.” Jordan might have told Mark he could come out, but he still didn’t feel like being social. If Mark wanted to be out here, he should enjoy the peace and let Jordan enjoy it, too.
“Tomorrow Catherine said she would empty the closet except for those few things she would be wearing.”
“Good.”
“We thought it might be time to make a run into the city. Get some things appraised, drop off items the local churches don’t want.”
“Okay.”
“Then I thought I’d drop-kick your ass for acting like such a prick.”
“Try it.”
“Hell, even with a bum leg I could do it. Your bottom lip’s hanging down so low you’d trip on it.”
Jordan swung around on the step and glared at Mark.
“So. You gonna give on what’s been eating you all day? Or are we going to go through another day of shifts between vile temper and silent treatments?”
“You son of a bitch!” Another deep breath. When he exhaled this time, his anger deflated like a punctured tire. “You son of a bitch,” he said quietly. His shoulders slumped. “I recognized that glass unicorn as being just like one my dad gave my mother when I was about ten. He told her he’d had it made especially for her, that there was no other like it in the world. A couple months later, it went missing. We tore the house apart. I had a tutor at the time, prepping me for some fancy school my parents wanted me to attend, and he was fired, accused of stealing. We never found the thing.”
“Until this morning.”
“Right. My father secretly gave his mistress something he had bought specifically for his wife. He stole it and let someone else accept the blame.” That was as far as he was willing to go at this point. Until he had it all sorted in his mind, there was no need to reveal all the sordid details.
“So you already know that your father is Leo.”
Jordan raised his brows. “How do you know?”
“That paper I found today. It was a note from Leo to Emma. The watermark was the shield that’s on the gate at your house.”
Elbows on his knees, he held his head between his hands. “So what do we do? What do we tell Catherine?”
“What do you think? Your family has known her and her mother the longest.”
“I don’t know what to tell her. Why do you think I’ve been going through hell all day?”
They sat silently for several minutes. “You say we’re about ready to pack things in here?” Jordan had a glimmer of an idea.
“It doesn’t look to me as though there’s too much of anything left to do.”
“Then it’s Paris for the three of us. She’ll be away from here, from the house, from memories. Maybe we don’t need to say anything.”
“Hide it from her?” Mark looked as skeptical about the idea as he sounded.
“It will make her unhappy, learning everything…that I learned today. There isn’t a damn thing she can do about any of it. Why start out a bright future feeling miserable about things out of our control? We love her, that’s what she needs. Love and support.”
“You must have found out some real shit today.” When he studied his eyes, Mark must have seen the confusion and misery Jordan felt. He finally nodded. “Okay.”
Jordan sighed in relief. Mark’s agreement was the answer he had sought from the relentless ocean. Now he could see the light at the end of this tunnel of nightmare revelations. Soon they’d be gone from here and all its secrets.
He couldn’t wait.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Stunned, Catherine left the window and stumbled back to the bed. Thinking that Jordan and Mark had walked out into the yard, she had gone to the window to watch them. Since discovering her love, she never had her fill of touching or seeing them. Instead of spying the men, she heard them talking through the open window.
“So you already know that your father is Leo.”
“How do you know?”
Pain spiraled through her. Jordan knew his father was Leo, and so did Mark. She lost track of their conversation but then tuned in again
“…it’s Paris for the three of us. She’ll be away from here, from the house, from memories. Maybe we don’t need to say anything.”
“Hide it from her?”
“It will make her unhappy, learning everything…that I learned today. There isn’t a damn thing she can do about any of it. Why start out a bright future feeling miserable about things out of our control? We love her, that’s what she needs. Love and support.”
So, neither man was prepared to tell her.
Jordan had said his father’s name was Robert, not Leo, and she’d believed him. Why had he lied to her? Worse, he had lured Mark into his deceit.
She curled into the fetal position. Jordan had lied to her. She had trusted him with her body and her fragile emotions. Now she didn’t know what to do. Had he meant any of the things he said to her?
The men remained outdoors until well after dawn. Catherine finally unfolded her body and made her decision. She thought their relationship—a most unusual relationship, but one she had embraced because she trusted her partners—was worth a second chance. She would give them an opportunity to tell her what she already knew. If they were honest, she could move forward. Her faith was based on the idea of mercy and forgiveness. What did it say about her years serving God if she showed none to the men she loved?
Dressing quickly, she hurried downstairs. At some point, one of the men had brewed coffee. She poured a cup and walked to the porch.
“Beautiful morning,” she said.
Jordan turned and smiled. He looked as innocent as a lamb. Could he act that well? Or did he truly believe what he’d said, that keeping her in the dark was for her own good?
“Seeing you, I’d say more beautiful.”
She couldn’t help smiling back. After years of hearing how plain she was, she felt like a sinner simply knowing joy when someone complimented her. She shouldn’t take pride in her physical appearance. “You’re a flatterer, Jordan Parnell.”
“Nope,” Mark said. “He’s just telling the truth. How did you sleep?”
“Well, thanks.” How to proceed now? “I know a little about Mark’s family, but I’ve only met your mother, Jordan. What was your father like?”
His expression turned wary. “What would you like to know?”
Why he hurt my mother so. Why you’ve lied to me for the last week. “What made him settle here? Was he from here?”
“Yes. When he finished law school, he came back to set up practice.”
“How did he meet your mother?” How did he meet my mother?
“At a law conference in Seattle. I think she was happy to come back here where she’d be a big fish, though in a small pond.”
Catherine took a sip of coffee and then cupped the warm glass. The early morning air off the water was cool. Dark clouds crowded the horizon, holding the promise of rain later. “What was he like?”
Jordan turned away from her. This was his chance. He could tell her right now that his dad had been his mother’s second lover. She knew without doubt that the glass unicorn had somethin
g to do with the matter. Jordan’s whole bearing had changed when he saw it.
“When I was growing up I thought he was a god, dispensing law and justice. I admired him and loved him beyond words.”
“And now?”
Jordan swiveled to face her where she sat beside Mark. Misery was written on his face as he stared.
“Tell her,” Mark urged.
Jordan licked his lips. He opened his mouth and then closed it.
“Tell me,” she whispered.
“My father is Leo.” A shuddered breath shook his body. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know until yesterday, I swear.”
“I believe you.” Relief flooded her.
“You knew?”
“I overheard you from the window. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
“That’s okay. I should have told you right away. I was afraid, and I apologize.”
“Jordan doesn’t hold all the blame,” Mark said. “I found a note in one of your mother’s books yesterday afternoon, and it pointed to Mr. Parnell. I wasn’t sure who to talk to first, but I shouldn’t have held back from you.”
“What now?” Jordan gave her a straightforward look. “Can you forgive us?”
“Of course!” She smiled at his expression of relief. “Your not wanting to tell me is understandable.” She put down her cup and took one of each of their hands in hers. “But we’re embarking on a new life here, and we need to be honest with each other. I can’t live with men I can’t trust.”
“I understand, Catherine,” Mark said. “And you won’t have to, I promise. No more lies.”
Jordan said nothing, but the firm squeeze of his hand signaled his agreement.
Shyly—but less so now—she asked, “Shall we seal our promise with a kiss?”
“Absolutely.” Jordan pushed up, using his hand on the step. When he took her lips, she tasted a sweetness that hadn’t been there before. Mark’s kiss filled her with passion. She loved these men!
Seducing Their Nun [Unlikely Bedfellows 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 19