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His Ransom 6

Page 5

by Aubrey Dark


  I sat on the stool opposite the door. The hallway was narrow, and nurses kept coming back and forth with baskets of laundry and carts full of medical supplies. I sat sideways and waited. I couldn’t hear anything through the wooden door, only murmurs.

  It was only five or ten minutes before Jake poked his head out into the hallway. He looked both joyously happy and terribly sad. I wanted to fling my arms around him and comfort him, but I knew this wasn’t the time or place for it.

  “Should I go back to the hotel?” I asked, not wanting to bother him at this time. “I can wait for you there.”

  “Of course not,” Jake said, an odd expression on his face. “My mother would like to meet you.”

  “Meet… she wants to meet me?” My jaw dropped open.

  “Yes,” Jake said. “Come on in.”

  I staggered to my feet. I didn’t know what I would say. What could I say? This was a woman who Jake had thought was dead for his entire adult life. Why on earth would she want to meet me, a total stranger?

  I walked in cautiously. Sean was sitting next to the window. In the hospital bed lay an older woman. Her hair was the same dark brown as Jake’s, only streaked with white strands. It spilled down her pillow and over her shoulders onto a white hospital gown. And behind her thin spectacles, her eyes were the same brilliant, sparkling green.

  “Hello,” I said. “I’m Lacey.”

  “I’m Denise. Come in, come in.” She spoke brightly, as though she wasn’t sick at all, waving me in. An IV line ran from her wrist to a saline drip next to her bedside. I was careful not to knock into it as I moved closer.

  She peered at me over her glasses.

  “So you’re the girlfriend,” she said.

  Again, that word.

  “Yes,” I said. If that’s what Jake wanted me to be, then that’s what I would be. My heart fluttered as she patted my hand.

  “Are you in love with him?” she asked, curiosity in her low voice.

  I nodded.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Why?”

  The question startled me for its directness. I answered it honestly.

  “Actually, I fell in love with his art first,” I said.

  “His art?” Her eyes drifted over to Jake. “You’re an artist? I didn’t know you were an artist.”

  “Not much of one,” Jake admitted. “It’s only a hobby.”

  “Both of my boys, then…” Denise said, glancing over at Sean. “Both of you are artists at heart. And here I thought you were a businessman all this time.”

  “I was only a businessman because I had to be.”

  “They gave you his stake in the company,” she said. It wasn’t a question. “You took over. That wasn’t supposed to happen, either.”

  “The money was supposed to go to you?” Jake asked.

  “Yes. There were no other beneficiaries. The CIA would have dissolved the company’s shares, given us the funds.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jake said. “I didn’t know—”

  Denise lifted her hand, waving away his apology.

  “No need,” she said. “We’ve been fine. Until... this sickness…”

  Her words drifted off. I noticed the pale skin drawn tight over her cheekbones. Her eyes, slightly sunken. I didn’t know what she was sick with, and I didn’t want to ask.

  “I’ll give you as much as you need,” Jake said. “Anything you want.”

  “It’s alright,” she said graciously. “Sean has done a good job taking care of us.”

  My eyes darted over to Sean, who was sipping at a glass of water in front of the window. He gave me a calculated look: don’t tell her.

  She had no idea that her son was doing dirty work for the government. I bit my lip and turned back to her as she squeezed my fingers.

  “Why didn’t you ever reach out to Jake?” I asked. I didn’t want to push her, but it was a question that burned in my mind. “If you wanted to know him—”

  “They told us that it was too dangerous,” she said. She pursed her lips. “Even this… this is dangerous. It’s good you didn’t tell them your names downstairs.”

  I thought of Rien, and what he had told me. I didn’t need to ask any more. The hurt in her face told me what I wanted to know—that this separation hadn’t been her fault. It had been as hard for her as it had been for Jake. Worse, maybe. She had known that her son was out there, somewhere, and she wasn’t able to be with him.

  “Well, if there’s ever any need for more money, you only have to ask,” Jake said softly.

  “I’m glad—” She bent over in a fit of coughing. Sean was at her side immediately with a tissue. She blotted the tissue against her lips and started again. “I’m glad that you found happiness. You’re nothing like your father.”

  The gleam of tears in Jake’s eyes as he bent his head made my heart swell. That had always been so hard for him. He had his father’s name. I felt that he had been hating himself for it all this time, and now that weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

  “And you,” she said, looking over at me. “You are an artist as well?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “A whole family of artists, then,” she murmured. I could tell that so much talking was beginning to wear her out. She coughed again.

  “Maybe…” Sean said.

  “We should go,” Jake said, at the same time. I could see that it hurt him to leave. “We don’t want to bother you too much all at once. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”

  “Yes. That would be wonderful. It was good to meet you.” She pressed my hand with hers. “Take care of Jake, will you?”

  “Of course,” I said. Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away. This was Jake’s moment. I stepped back and waited as he kissed her on both cheeks and said goodbye.

  Out in the hallway, Jake turned to Sean.

  “Thank you,” he said, his throat choked with emotion.

  “It’s good to have a brother,” Sean said, reaching out his hand. Jake shook it, then clasped his brother close in a hug.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Thank you,” Jake said, when we were back at the hotel. He sat down on the bed.

  “Me?”

  “You’re the one who pushed me to see him again. I would never… I wouldn’t have…”

  “Jake.”

  He was crying then, tears streaming down his cheeks. I wrapped my arms around him. He was bigger than me, but I wanted to cradle him completely. I wanted to tell him that he had done the right thing. I wanted nothing more than for him to be happy.

  “It was a moment I’d been waiting for my whole life,” he said. “And I’d never known it. I wouldn’t have met them if it wasn’t for you.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Lacey, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

  “I can only imagine,” I whispered.

  “I’ve been living with this guilt my whole life. I thought I’d left them there to die. My whole life…”

  I didn’t say anything, only caressed his back with my hand. He was so strong, yet at that moment he was utterly vulnerable. I let my fingers thread through his hair, smoothing it down. He didn’t deserve to be so hurt.

  “I love you,” Jake said, lifting his head. He wiped a sleeve across his cheeks to dry them. His eyes were an almost unearthly green against the red rims of his eyes. I didn’t think that he could ever have looked more handsome than he normally did, but the fiery passion in his expression made him so beautiful I couldn’t breathe.

  “I love you too,” I said.

  He kissed me, softly at first. As though it was our first time kissing. So tender. So unlike him.

  “Lacey…”

  He lay back onto the bed, pulling me on top of him. My legs straddled his hips and I leaned forward to continue the kiss. His lips teased me, pushing and pulling in turn. The ache between my legs grew into a terrible want. I eased myself against him, letting out a soft whimper as his lips left mine and moved down to brush over the
skin of my neck.

  “Lacey, I want you.” His breath tickled me just under my ear as he whispered. I shivered, tightening my legs around his body. He was so strong, so hard, a body tense and pulsing underneath me. I’d never felt him like this before—completely alive, every part of him coiled with energy, like a spring that had been waiting for years to let go.

  “You have me,” I said. I caressed his shoulder with my hand. Perfect, smooth skin, pulled taut over his muscles. As he shifted his weight, I could see his body tensing under his skin.

  “I want all of you. I want your brain. I want your art. I want your beautiful body. I want your lips, your arms, your perfect curves.”

  “They’re all yours, Jake. Take me.”

  The glint in his eyes turned into a fierce spark of desire. He pressed his lips against mine, and I could feel him awakening, his body stiffening under me.

  He rolled suddenly, pinning me down onto the bed. His breath quickened against my skin, warm and wanting. My legs were still around him, and I used them to pull him in tight.

  His cock was already hard. I could feel the throb of his heartbeat through that part of him against me. It made my own body yearn to be connected to him. I lifted my hand to take my dress off. His hand caught my wrist.

  “Let me,” he said. He kissed my neck. His fingers found their way to the zipper on the side of the dress, and he pulled it down with one long, slow motion. There was a gap of skin showing at my side, and he bent his head to kiss it.

  “Like unwrapping a gift,” he said. “The best gift I’ve ever received.”

  He pulled my dress down slowly, kissing my skin as he went. His kisses were strangely delicate, like the touch of feathers against my stomach. He slid his hands under the hem of my gown, already bunched up at my hips.

  “Such a perfect ass,” he said, cupping my cheeks with his hands. Rather than spanking them, he rolled his thumb over me, kneading me at the soft place just underneath my ass.

  “Jake,” I moaned. My body was burning for his touch. He’d always been so hard and relentless, so demanding. He’d never gone so slowly, so gently.

  He pushed the dress up over my head. I lifted my arms obediently and arched my back to help him shimmy me out of the dress. The silk went flying over my head, and I was left naked, lying back against the pillow.

  His mouth was still moving, moving farther down my stomach. I threaded my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. I ached so badly for him, and I couldn’t help the low moan that came from my lips when he pressed a kiss onto my inner thigh.

  “I want to give you everything, Lacey,” he said.

  “Just give me this, right now.”

  “I love hearing your voice,” he murmured. His breath sent a shudder through my whole body. “Say my name.” He kissed me again, this time on the other inner thigh. I burned so badly. I wanted nothing more than for him to kiss me there, right on my most sensitive spot.

  “Jake.”

  The first time we’d made love, he had hated the sound of his name. He’d been hiding for his whole life, I realized. Pretending to be someone else. When he painted graffiti as the artist Kage, he was trying to get away from his father and all of the guilt he’d held within him. Now, though, he was breaking through his past and accepting what had happened.

  “Jake,” I moaned again, and he bent his head, sealing his mouth around me. I gasped as his tongue thrust into me deeply.

  “God, you taste so good,” Jake whispered. He dove back between my thighs, licking and sucking. I gripped the sheets tightly, struggling not to scream. Every swipe of his tongue over my swollen, aching slit propelled me higher and higher, sending waves of tension through my nerves.

  “Mmmmm.” I raised my hand and grasped at the pillow, needing some way to muffle my cries. I wasn’t going to be able to hold out for long.

  “So delicious. So perfect.” Jake kissed me again, his tongue flicking my swollen nub. He sucked hard, then soft, easing off of the pressure just as I was about to come.

  “Oh God, Jake!” I cried out, when he had pulled me back from the edge one more time. “Please! Please let me come!”

  “Not yet,” Jake said. I could feel his smile against my hot flesh. I was wet, so wet, and every brush of his fingers along my thighs made the thought of orgasm ripple through me desperately. I was close, oh so close.

  “Ohhh,” I moaned. He was pressing soft kisses over me. I lifted my hips to his mouth, wanting more. Needing more.

  “Good girl,” he whispered. Then his fingers were at my slit and I groaned, twisting in the bed as he sucked lightly between my thighs. The pressure was unbearable.

  “Jake, oh, Jake! Yes! Please!”

  His fingers pushed into me and he pressed his mouth down hard, sealing his lips against my swollen and slick folds. I screamed as he flicked his tongue over and over against. My hips bucked up and he thrust his fingers deep into me, stretching me as he sucked.

  “AHHHH!”

  I was past the point of caring whether or not anyone heard me. I came screaming over the cliff, my orgasm pulsating through my body in gasps of pleasure.

  “Yes, oh, God, yes! YES!”

  The hard spasms of ecstasy tossed my body from side to side. I clenched tight around his fingers as another wave came through me. My cries caught in my throat as I gasped for breath.

  Another small shudder, this time as he pressed a soft kiss against me. The last shivers of orgasm rippled outward, like the ripples of one of Monet’s lilypads. Every disturbance inside of me could be seen on the surface. I was open to him, open completely.

  Jake smiled up at me from between my legs. I couldn’t do anything but lay back on the pillow and breathe heavily. He slid his hands up to my hips and squeezed lightly. I clenched again in one last spasm, then let out a sigh of pleasure.

  “My girl,” he said. “My Lacey.”

  “All yours,” I said, catching my breath. “I don’t know what you’re going to do with me now that I’m a useless puddle of goo, but there you go. I’m yours.”

  He lay down next to me, gathering me in his arms. While he cuddled me, I pressed my head to his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, thumping like he’d just been the one to have a ridiculously intense orgasm instead of me.

  “I can think of some naughty things to do to you, now that you’re a useless puddle of goo,” he said, a devious hint of a smile creeping onto his lips.

  “I can’t wait,” I said. I closed my eyes and leaned back into his warm embrace.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next few days passed in a whirlwind of activity. Jake went back to the hospital to visit his mom and spent most of his nights in business meetings, and I stayed busy with sightseeing. Sean had made many connections in the art world of Paris, and I found myself in studios and galleries, meeting more art collectors than I could shake a stick at.

  More than that, I found myself slowing down and appreciating art again. When I was in New York City with Jake, I’d felt a pressure to produce paintings. Now that I couldn’t, I found myself itching to paint again. I wasn’t worried about what I would make, or if it would sell. I only wanted to do art again.

  On our last day there, Jake told me that he had special plans for dinner. When I got out of the shower, he was waiting for me.

  “I’d like you to wear this.”

  He handed me a long black gown.

  “And no—”

  “No underwear. Got it.” I pulled the dress over my head. It hung over one shoulder, the neck draping down softly against my chest.

  Jake smiled mischievously.

  “You know me too well.”

  “It’s our last night in Paris,” I said. “What else would you do?”

  “I don’t know,” Jake said. “What else should I do?”

  “Oh, I can think of about ten thousand things,” I said.

  “And do any of them involve underwear?”

  I shook my head, chuckling already.

  “Then there you
have it. I planned perfectly. Underwear not needed.”

  I twirled around. I had thought that the black dress was a simple gown, but it wasn’t—the front was embroidered with black beads that glittered as the light danced over them. And along the side, a diamond clasp puckered the waist of the dress. The loose folds of the black silk fabric cascaded down all the way to the floor.

  “Now I know why girls wear heels,” I said, putting them on. “I guess it’s more practical than tripping over the hem all night long.”

  “I knew I could win you over with practicality,” Jake teased.

  “And the diamonds even match my earrings,” I said.

  “Oh!” Jake pushed aside the strands of my hair to look at the little diamond studs he’d given me. “How could I not notice? When did you get them pierced?”

  “A couple days ago,” I said. “When I went shopping. They’re still a little tender.”

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t notice,” Jake said. His face contorted with worry. “I should have—”

  “It’s alright,” I said. “You’ve been pretty busy with other stuff. You know, your girlfriend getting kidnapped by your long-lost brother, that kind of thing. I forgive you for being a bit distracted.”

  “Thank you,” Jake said, kissing the tip of my nose. “They look beautiful. And so do you.”

  “Is this real?” I asked, touching the diamond clasp at my hip.

  “Of course. To match your earrings. And also... well, it’s a surprise. That’ll wait until later, I guess.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Jake, this is too much. You’re too good to me already.”

  “I could never be too good to you, Lacey,” he said, kissing me.

  I could feel the flames of desire sneaking through my body as his lips pressed hungrily against mine. Without any underwear on, I knew we were in for trouble if I kept going. So I pulled back playfully.

  “Well, why don’t you take your beautiful girlfriend to dinner?”

  “That,” Jake said, “sounds like a marvelous idea.”

  “Another blindfold?”

  The driver was taking us along the dusky riverbank when he held up the black silk fabric.

 

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