by Lila Munro
"For today, yes," she managed.
"Okay. What can I do?"
"Go back to bed with your husband," she told him, pulling back and turning in his arms, facing away from him.
Dante didn’t fail to notice she said the word without the hate that lingered on it the night before.
And there it was again. The urge to fuck her. God damn it.
Against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed the arc of her shoulder where her t-shirt had fallen down her arm baring her creamy skin before turning and leaving. If he didn’t, he might do that very thing.
Dante crept into his own bedroom, shut the door, and locked it behind him. It seemed odd to have to do that without the kids in the house, but he wasn’t entirely sure how Julie would react to seeing him with Blake. Sure, she’d seen them having sex at parties, but everything struck him as different now. They were in the confines of their own home and Julie was now part of them. It was at least a dozen ways wrong what he was about to do, starting with the fact he just plain needed relief and he knew in his heart this wouldn’t be making love like they’d come to do the older they got. This act would be purely fucking at its most basic level.
Standing beside the bed, he stripped out of his sleeping shorts and fumbled in the bedside table for a bottle of lube.
"Why are you back here?" Blake murmured over a yawn.
"I need you," Dante said as he slicked up his dick. "Roll over."
"What if I say no?" he answered, pushing up on his elbows.
"Don’t push me, Blake" Dante growled. "Roll over."
Blake did as Dante demanded, sending his hips into the air as Dante made his way between his legs on his knees. Without warning, without even the slightest tender touch, he shoved the head of his cock past Blake’s balking, puckered tissue and didn’t stop until he was seated fully inside him. It must have just about split Blake in two, as he buried his face in his pillow and suppressed a hissing whimper.
Knowing what he was doing wasn’t right and not caring, Dante pulled back and slammed into him again and again, gripping his bottom lip between his teeth. When his groin tightened, he grabbed the back of Blake’s neck with one hand and firmly clasped his hip with the other and without giving a damn if Blake came or not, Dante emptied himself deep inside him and slumped over, heaving for air.
When the world stopped spinning, he pushed off Blake and immediately wanted to throw up. In all the years he and Blake had been lovers, not one single time had Dante used him the way he did now.
He eased out of him and pulled Blake to his side, curling around his body, trying to come to grips with what he’d just done.
"I’m so sorry," he whispered over Blake’s back.
"No. You’re not," Blake answered with quiet resolve. "But I can forgive you. I know you want her and I have no problem sharing, but don’t ever fuck me because you can’t have her again." With that he eased away from Dante, leaving him cold, and went into the bathroom. The lock clicked like a gunshot in the darkness.
Chapter Four
Julie stopped short of knocking on the closed bedroom door, the sounds of the men having sex muffled behind the wood that separated them halting her movement. She should have known. Did Dante actually think she’d sleep at all with the feel of his cock stabbing her in the back? For that matter, did she not think he’d go to his husband for relief? Of course they’d be having sex while she lived here. She had no idea what was going through Mason’s mind when he made this ludicrous decision, but the only reason she was agreeing to stay for now was because she refused to disgrace his still too fresh memory. If she was being honest, she didn’t want to be alone. Alone scared the hell out of her.
With one hand on her hip and her fist in her mouth, she pressed back the new wave of hurt that threatened to erupt. If Mason hadn’t been torn from her, she could be in her own home right now making love to her husband before making him breakfast. Grief swamped her as she made her way back to her room and shut and locked the door behind her before landing across the bed to cry. As quickly as the tears took over, Julie willed them to stop. If they found her like this, they’d never leave her alone.
She watched the clock on the night stand, the red numbers slowly changing until bright streams of sunlight made their way across her damp cheeks. At a quarter of seven she heard a door open down the hall then one of the men tapped on her door.
"Jules, are you okay?" Blake called softly.
"I’m fine. Getting ready to take a shower," she answered with as much cheer as she could muster.
"Do you need anything?"
"No, thank you."
"I have to go to the office for a while, but I’ll be back before noon," he said. "Dante will be here until I get back then he has to teach this evening."
"Okay." There would be no escaping today. They apparently were taking shifts.
"Alright then." He sounded like he had no idea what else to say or do. "Love you, pumpkin."
"Love you, too," she said over a knot in her throat.
For a few moments there was quiet then Julie heard him walk down the hall and out the front door. Not long after that she heard Dante coming down the hall. Again there was a soft tap on her door before he tried the knob.
"You okay?" Dante’s voice was strained.
If he thought she was any happier about being left alone with him for half the day than he was, he could think again. She glanced at the window and almost laughed at the image of her slipping out like a con escaping some cartoon jail rolling through her mind’s eye.
"I’m fine," she called. "I’m going to take a shower."
Before she heard his answer, Julie left the bed and skirted into the bathroom, throwing on the water in hopes of cutting him off completely. As she stood under the spray, she realized how much relief there was in simply letting hot water hit her and wondered if she’d ever sleep again.
"I’d like it if you’d eat with me." Dante voice echoed all around her and Julie screamed and jumped, nearly losing her footing, the only thing stopping her from landing on her ass were the arms that fell around her waist.
"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" she gasped, pushing a mop of wet hair out of her eyes. "How the hell did you get in here?" Anger overtook her at the fact not only had she lost her voice, apparently she had no privacy either.
"I took the knob off," Dante explained calmly. "I don’t mind you having time to yourself, but we don’t hide around here and we sure don’t lock each other out."
"You asshole. I cannot believe Mason left me in your care." Julie pursed her lips and pushed at his arms, trying to escape.
"Want to go for the whole door?"
"I’m not a fucking child."
"I’m perfectly aware of that, Jules," he answered, his breath tickling her throat as unwanted involuntary heat spread from the point of contact. He made sure she was steady before turning loose and handing her a towel before leaning back on the counter. "I just wanted to have breakfast with you. You worked so damn hard at it this morning I figured we might as well enjoy it, even if it is cold now."
Julie’s eyes darted to the floor as she nodded unable to form words because quite frankly, they escaped her.
"Get dressed. I’ll be waiting for you."
"What do you want me to wear?" The words flowed out of her as naturally as rain falling and Julie wished she could recall them. It was force of habit. That was all. She didn’t want to bend to this man’s will. She simply found herself without direction and no one else to answer to but him.
"What do you want to wear?"
Her heart thumped an unsteady rhythm at his answer. This wasn’t the Dante she knew. The Dante she knew didn’t give a shit what his slave wanted. Was this a trick? Was she being paranoid? Had she finally lost it and maybe she was somewhere in a straight jacket dreaming all this?
"Jules?"
"I don’t even know what to call you," she admitted, a fresh round of tears erupting as she sank to the side of the tub, th
e towel clutched in one hand, the other on her forehead. "I don’t know what you want. I don’t know the rules. I’m not even sure where I fit. I’m afraid."
"Jules, love," Dante said, kneeling and pulling her chin up with his thumb. "Listen to me. We’ll figure it all out. I know this is…strained. Tell me what you’re afraid of?"
"Everything." She hesitated then pulled free of his grip to stare at the wall. "You."
"I know. And I don’t really blame you. But you’re not Blake and the same rules don’t apply. You’re as different as night and day. We’ll figure out what works." Cradling her jaw in his palm, he moved her to look at him again. "We’ll figure this out. I promise you."
Julie’s breath hitched as she wiped a few tears from her face and managed a nod.
"I think we need to establish what you’re going to call me," Dante said, rubbing her arms.
"Not Master," she choked out, shaking her head. "I know…" Fingering the collar Dante had put on her as soon as they’d come home last night, she pleaded with her eyes for him to understand as her lips trembled, fighting back the wave of despair on the cusp of exploding.
"Shhhh…Love, it’s okay. I know. I understand. I suspect Mason will have quite a grip on you for quite a while in that respect. I get it. I wouldn’t expect anything less." He stood and pulled her to her feet, turned the water off, and moved to the vanity where he retrieved another towel and started squeezing water from her hair with it. "But you need an anchor. Do you understand that? You need to get settled into a routine. It’ll help bring you back to center."
"I know," Julie whispered.
She didn’t know how this could ever work. Dante wasn’t the emotional Master Mason had been. He was a more physical Dom and very stringent. That he was being so easy on her right now defied reason. It was almost more confusing than being here to begin with. If anything, she expected Dante to turn her over his knee immediately for back talking and shutting him out.
"Let’s just use Sir for now," Dante told her, tossing the wet towel into the hamper. "Yes?"
"Yes," she said, still clutching the towel around her middle and peering up at their shared reflection in the foggy mirror.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. As far as what to wear, I don’t expect you to go naked. Blake only does that when Gavril and Lucien aren’t home. He’ll be doing that this week, but once the twins come home, it’ll be back to clothing not optional. You can wear whatever makes you comfortable."
As much as they all knew about each other, it seemed very odd to Julie how much they didn’t know. Negotiating with Dante was going to be like getting to know him all over again. And although she knew the twins had the basic concept of how their parents’ relationship worked, she really had no idea how they dealt with it or just how much they actually knew or understood. How did they plan on explaining her presence to them?
"We can discuss this some more while we eat." Dante turned to go. "And when Blake gets back, we’ll go over household responsibilities. Obviously for now the question of cooking is answered. You enjoy that and need it, so it’s yours and Blake can help as needed or wanted."
"Sir?" Julie said before he made it through the door. "Thank you."
She thought Dante looked a bit defeated as he stuffed his fists into his pocket, nodded once, quirked up one side of his mouth in a half-hearted smile, and left her.
Grooming complete, Julie thumbed through the things Blake packed for her. She had to smile at the fact Blake had known where to even look for her normal "everyday" underwear. She didn’t own much of it as she went naked for Mason every day, all day. The only time the need arose for anything less than party worthy was when they had vanilla company and Julie had to put on clothes. Her smile was quickly replaced with a frown when she plucked her purple slippers from the bottom of the suitcase. They were the only piece of clothing she wore around the house as Mason didn’t want her feet to get cold or dirty. Clenching her jaw, she tucked them back under a pair of jeans and dug out a pair of socks.
Dante sat on the end barstool at the kitchen island reading the paper when she came around the corner from the formal dining room. He peeked over the top of it, folded it up, and set it in the seat of another stool. Julie stopped short of standing beside him and wondered what to do next. He indicated Blake was always formal as long as the twins weren’t home. With them staying with Drake for now, what exactly did that entail and which rules applied to Blake and not her? She’d known for years Blake sat at Dante’s feet when they ate. Mason never expected that from her and insisted she sit at the table with him more like a partner and less like a pet. Not to mention her knees weren’t what they used to be.
When Dante didn’t say anything, Julie’s eyes fell to the floor and she waited patiently for him to let her know what it was he wanted her to do. As much as she hated being here, he was right about one thing. She needed routine and balance. Letting him have some of her control would provide that even if it wasn’t in the capacity to which she was accustomed.
"Up here," Dante finally said, patting the seat next to him.
"Thank you, Sir," she said, sliding into the offered barstool. She crossed her legs and placed her hands in her lap before she meandered over a line she wasn’t even sure existed. At home she served Mason. She wanted to do that for Dante as well. "Can I make your plate for you?"
"Yes, I’d like it if you did," he answered, smiling for the first time in what seemed like days.
Julie piled his plate full of waffles and scrambled eggs. The waffles hadn’t become soggy yet, but much to her disgust, the eggs were now rubbery. She’d have to broach the subject of grocery shopping with him at some point. Though the cabinets were well-stocked, there were certain things she was used to working with that were missing and if cooking was to be her job, she wanted to do it well and feel comfortable with the results. She also needed to know what the twins liked once they came home. Mason’s children were grown and had families of their own when they married, which meant Julie had no idea what the modern teen enjoyed eating. Her own experiences as a teen weren’t filled with pizza parties and loaded nachos. In fact, food was limited to whatever she could afford for her and her sister after her mother passed out and left her purse unattended. More often than not, she was lucky if she could afford a loaf of bread and a pound of bologna.
"Jules? Are you listening?" Dante cut through her thoughts of childhood and Cassie.
"I’m sorry, Sir. No. I wasn’t listening," she admitted, laying her fork down, her appetite all but gone again.
"Want to share what was going on up here?" he asked, running a fingertip over the wrinkle in her forehead that seemed to get deeper by the day. She really needed to go to the Clinique counter and get something for it.
"I was thinking about Cassie. And bologna. What do Gavril and Lucien like to eat? I need to go shopping…If that’s okay? Sir?" She realized she was speaking to Dante as she always had, as a friend and not her Master.
"I need to go shopping, too," he told her, dropping his hand to her throat where he fingered the worn and tattered collar she now wore in place of the petite, feminine one that had been Mason’s first anniversary gift to her. "I think we need to do something about this. Get you something prettier and more comfortable. I was thinking about a choker of some sort?"
"If that’s what you’d like, Sir." Julie ran a palm over the back of her neck and looked away. While she needed the weight of a collar to tether her right now, she still wasn’t entirely sold on the idea of it being Dante’s.
"I have a few hours in between the time Blake gets home and my evening class. We’ll all go to lunch and find something. Would you like that? We'll get out for a while and you can do your shopping."
"Yes, I would." For some reason it struck her right then how much was still to be done concerning the house. What was she supposed to do with it or the contents if she was expected to stay with Dante indefinitely? "What about the house, Sir? I need…" Unable
to finish, she took a short breath and laid her head on the counter.
"Jules, look at me," Dante insisted, stroking her hair. "Come on, look at me."
With her energy supply seriously depleted, she lifted her head and looked at him blankly.
"We’ll worry about the house another day. You need time to process. Maybe giving it a few days and leaving it alone will bring some perspective. Yes?"
"Yes, Sir," she answered dutifully, although she had to wonder if there would ever be any perspective again. Or any sleep. She was so tired her skin ached and that alone was reason enough to start crying again.
Chapter Five
With breakfast finished, the mess cleared, and the dishwasher loaded, Dante forced Julie to go to bed in his room. He wasn’t sure why he sent her there. He had no idea how to approach her about sleeping arrangements right now. Obviously he and Blake needed space and so did she, but he found he wanted her to sleep with them, if not every night, at least occasionally. The idea of curling up with one solid bodied man and one soft, luscious woman and waking up the same way appealed to him. Of course he hadn't mentioned this to Blake yet and while he could do whatever he wanted without Blake’s permission, he still wanted Blake’s approval on this. It was his bed, too after all and after what he’d done this morning, Dante had some serious making up to do.
Once he’d convinced Julie to take a couple of Tylenol, he drew the blackout shades, tucked her in, and pulled the door almost shut. She might not sleep, but lying there resting had to be better than nothing.
He made his way to his office just down the hall and after glancing at the clock, he wondered why Blake hadn’t phoned to let him know how their sons were. That was another thing to be addressed. They needed to figure out how they were going to explain that Aunt Julie was going to be living with them on a permanent basis.