by Joey W. Hill
He’d untied her, was rubbing her back and legs, turning her in his arms, wrapping her up in a blanket and him, holding fast. She put her hand over his, and knew what Elaine had said was right. Whatever she’d felt before, it hadn’t been love, not truly. She’d never let herself be lost in someone so completely.
“Ssshh, easy love. Easy, girl. I’m here. I’m a monster, but I’m here.”
“Not.” She sniffed. “Perfect in every way. Master.”
“Sssh. Sleep. It’s okay now. Sleep.”
She had no choice in that, either, since she’d left behind her own will hours ago and wanted only to obey his every word, give him everything he wanted. She held onto him and was pleased that he didn’t let her go, either.
He was right. There was no room between them for any more worries. Only love, and it could fill and overflow their hearts and souls until they swam in it all the way to Heaven.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A week later, they received an invitation from Marcus and Thomas to stay overnight at their North Carolina house. Elaine wanted them to come for dinner because Les, Thomas’s sister, was coming home for the weekend from medical school at Duke University. She hadn’t yet had a chance to meet Des.
While she’d normally look forward to any visit with Marcus and Thomas’s family, Julie chafed at the timing. The day they were supposed to go was the official day Des had an all-clear to resume all normal activities—including sex. She’d figured Des would prefer to have the privacy of his place to tear her clothes off and do all the things that he’d been threatening, but Des told her to say yes to the invite.
As they left Charlotte that day, Des agreed privacy would be optimal, but he gave her a wink as he took the exit ramp onto I-85.
“They’re going to give us a private bedroom, aren’t they? They live in the sticks, but it’s not like Little House on the Prairie, everyone in a one-room cabin.”
“You just admitted you’ve watched Little House on the Prairie.”
“Everyone has watched at least one episode of Little House on the Prairie, no matter how much they deny it,” he said staunchly. “Melissa Sue Anderson was hot. And don’t get me started on Ma.” His gaze slid over her. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in one of those cute farm girl dresses with the little boots and stockings.”
“There’s something deeply twisted about you.”
She chuckled as he grabbed at her knee and she scooched farther against the passenger seat to avoid him. Even as he teased her, though, she wasn’t fooled. Something was up. He had something planned, but he wasn’t in the mood to share, even when she probed. But he gave her a nice surge of arousal when he leveled a more direct gaze on her.
“Come here and stop hiding over there.”
She moistened her lips and slid back to the center of the seat. He settled his palm on her leg, sliding up to her upper thigh and then turning his hand so he cupped her between her legs under her skirt, fingers playing over her labia like a violin and sending a quick little shudder through her. “You just sit like that for a while,” he said conversationally. “Find us something on the radio while I drive.”
“Sadist.”
His eyes glinted, but he kept his hand there until she found a station he preferred. “You feel wet,” he said. “I’d like to keep you that way all day, but…” He gave her a firm stroke that made her draw in a breath and put his hand back on her thigh. “That’s just a reminder that things will happen when they should happen. All right?”
“Okay.” She curled her hand over his. “I’m rethinking wanting you back to 100% again. You may drive me crazy. Crazier, that is.”
He shot her a grin. “Sit back and enjoy the ride, love.”
Elaine fed them a repast that would put a Thanksgiving dinner to shame. So much so that Julie was afraid they’d need to postpone sexual activity for a week unless she did a marathon jog from here to the state line. Since she abhorred all types of formal exercise, her serious contemplation of the idea said just how desperate she was.
It wasn’t that she needed this first time to be acrobatic, rock-her-world kind of sex. She just wanted her Master’s cock deep inside her, his body pressing her down, his arms around her. She needed that link and connection as much as she needed air, and the more she thought about it, the scarcer the air seemed to be getting.
It didn’t help that Des kept touching her, putting a possessive, stroking hand high on her thigh under the table. Or laughing at Marcus’s and Rory’s banter with his sexy timbre. Or getting that attentive look in his brown gaze as he listened to Elaine. She wondered if his frequent touches were a way of communicating his own urgency, but the difference between her and him was he fed off of denial, fueled by his sub’s frustration. The only thing that might keep her from murdering him was that she couldn’t have sex with a dead man. Though if she got any more sexually frustrated, her moral barometer might drop precipitously.
Des had shifted his hand to the back of her chair and was playing with her bra strap under her shirt when she was beaned by a biscuit.
“Hey, girl with the idiot dreamy look on her face,” Marcus said. “Pay attention. Might as well be freaking newlyweds,” he grumbled to Thomas. “When she’s not looking at him, he’s looking at her.”
“Yeah, not like anyone else we know at this table,” Les said, rolling her eyes at him and Thomas. She winked at Des. Though when not smiling she looked like the serious overachiever she was, Les was a pleasant girl with brown hair and hazel eyes like her mother’s. She became even more animated when Daralyn, a family friend who’d lived with them for the past few years, was here, but Daralyn had a field trip with her community college this weekend. Something Julie was happy to hear because, though she loved being around Daralyn, the young woman was painfully shy and needed to be more socialized.
Marcus sent Les a mock frown. “I have a very important something to tell you both,” he said to Julie. “I acquired the information at great personal cost.”
“You had to give up hair mousse for a week?” Rory asked, wide-eyed.
“Shut up, crip, or I’ll let the air out of your tires,” Marcus advised.
Elaine tsked at their byplay. Yet Julie noticed the men were keeping the humor clean if tasteless so she didn’t have to resort to outright admonishment.
“Spill. What’s this valuable info?” Julie asked.
Marcus glanced at Thomas. He had his arm stretched behind Thomas’s chair, body canted toward him, foot propped on the cross piece beneath. Unlike Des and Julie, they’d already been able to resume carnal relations, but from the hawk steadiness of Marcus’s gaze, Julie suspected he didn’t yet consider them caught up from the deficit. But when had Marcus and Thomas not been like that? Honest to God, she was going to have a meltdown if she couldn’t have Des, or he could have her, two minutes ago.
Des was more than partly to blame, and not because of his attentiveness today. The man had used his Devil-cursed self-discipline to tie her up and do a repeat of that wonderful night several times, a scintillating reinforcement of the Dom and sub bond, as well as the other bonds between them. As much as she loved that, the aftermath had been even more precious. He’d held her so tightly, a quivering mass of “fuck it, I want to live” energy that broke the heart and made her love him all the more.
“I had to call Tyler,” Marcus informed her.
She returned fully to the present with a mock dramatic gasp, putting her hand to her heart. “Oh my God, you’re right. Thomas, how could you let him make such a terrible sacrifice?”
“I will dip your hair in rubber cement while you sleep,” Marcus said.
“Enough,” Elaine said, putting pecan pie on the table. “Tell them your news. I’ve been fairly bursting with it since Thomas told me last week.”
“He’s such a tattle tale.” But Marcus relented, meeting Des’s gaze. “There’s a study going on right now. It puts pancreatic cells in this biomaterial that withstands immune system attack. When the cells are inj
ected into you, the cells can maintain their ability to detect low blood sugar and produce insulin in response. What healthy pancreas are supposed to do. Encapsulated islet cell therapy, I think it’s called.” He glanced at Les, as if he’d confirmed some of the medical terms with her.
“Regardless, Jon will be able to explain it much better,” Marcus added. “I understood every third word, but the important gist is there’s a lot of optimism surrounding the study. It’s ready for human trials.”
Julie raised her brows. "How did you find that out?"
“He called Marcie,” Thomas supplied.
“Oh.” Julie beamed and explained to Des. “Marcie is a friend of Marcus and Thomas’s. Well, let me step back. Initially the common friend was Lucas Adler. He’s a big CFO for this major company out in New Orleans. Marcie is his sister-in-law. When she was working in New York on an internship, she, Marcus and Thomas hung out together so…they could show her the ropes in the area.”
From the flicker in Des’s eyes, she knew he understood. Marcie was a submissive, and Marcus and Thomas had been her introduction into the New York BDSM scene. “Anyhow, she’s now married to Ben. Does that make her a sister-in-law squared?” she asked Thomas.
Thomas laughed. “While the Kensington guys are a lot like brothers, they’re not actually blood-related, so no. Lucas and Ben both work for Kensington & Associates, run by Matt Kensington.”
He directed his further explanation to Des. “Five of them run the executive management team: Lucas, Peter, Jon, Matt and Ben, and they’re thick as a pack of wolves. Anyhow, Jon is their Leonardo da Vinci when it comes to mechanical stuff and cutting edge research. He has contacts with all sorts of other geniuses, people involved in everything from the next shuttle launch to cancer research. Marcus asked him to dig around and see if there were any reputable studies that might fit your situation.”
“Studies like that are tough to get into,” Des said.
“Yeah, they can be, but like anything else in this world, it’s who you know,” Thomas pointed out. “The study is being conducted by a Tampa research center. One of the top researchers involved founded a juvenile diabetes camp and foundation. Tyler Winterman is a big donor and honorary board member.”
“The light dawns.” Julie chuckled. "I bet that hurt."
"Yeah. I merely gave up a kidney. Marcus having to call Tyler and ask a favor, that was the real sacrifice,” Thomas said.
Julie beamed at Marcus. "You do love me."
Marcus sniffed. "Piss off, both of you." At Elaine’s sharp look, he lifted both hands. “I could have used a much worse expletive. They’re picking on me.”
Elaine bit back a smile, and Julie exchanged an amused look with Thomas. She could tell it was a quiet pleasure to Thomas, the rapport that had grown between his husband and mother. Especially since at one time they’d been as close to sworn enemies as two people could be.
“Mom.” After Marcus’s news had been revealed, Celeste had left the table to retrieve homemade ice cream for the pie. Now she poked her head back into the kitchen from the cellar door. “I can’t find the vanilla. Where’d you put it?”
“Daralyn might have moved it to the smaller freezer when we were reorganizing down there. Let me come look.” Elaine rose and joined her daughter. Des’s hand slid higher up Julie’s leg, his thumb putting pressure on the juncture between hip and labia. Covering his hand with hers, she dug her nails into his flesh and gave him a look.
“Asshole,” she mouthed. He winked, but he shifted his hand back down and spoke aloud.
"Marcus and Tyler aren't friends?" he ventured.
"It’s complicated,” Thomas responded.
“For those of us who like to fantasize about guy-on-guy, there's a whole homoerotic Julius Caesar versus Alexander the Great thing going on there. Total fantasy on my part”—she raised her voice over Rory’s mock gag and dramatic stuffing of his fingers in his ears—“since Tyler is as straight as a pencil. Their relationship is basically built on power tripping, art bidding wars and one-upmanship.”
She glanced at Thomas, whose set expression suggested he wasn’t thrilled with her musings. She put a hand on his arm. “I don’t want Marcus to be with anyone but you. It's just a fantasy I think about. Can’t help my thoughts.”
“That’s fine,” Thomas said evenly. “You can have the fantasy. Just as long as he isn't having it.”
“Not likely,” Marcus said. “Tyler’s ass is so tight you couldn’t get a pencil dick up it anyhow.”
“Sounds like you’d have no trouble then,” Rory observed. Thomas smacked the back of his head.
“Hey! Mom’s not here,” Rory protested.
“That’s why I did it. So she was represented.”
“You couldn’t get either to admit it under torture,” Julie told Des, “but Marcus and Tyler actually like each another."
“No we don’t,” Marcus said automatically. In Elaine’s absence, he was doing a quick check of the messages on his phone, something she didn’t care for them doing while a meal was in process. He pocketed it as her feet heralded her return and smoothly resumed the discussion in progress.
“I gave Tyler some of the basics of your condition and he passed it on to the study director. They’re interested in bringing you into the program, to see the impact their work has on a more challenging case. And the great thing is this research center has connections to a lot of other studies happening in the field of diabetes research, so if you get your foot in here, it might lead to other things.”
Marcus met Des’s gaze. “I didn’t investigate all this to make you feel pressured to do it, but if you’d be interested, there’s a window of opportunity.”
Julie held her breath, waiting for Des’s response, but she needn’t have worried. While Des still wrestled with being handled versus cared about, he was getting better about understanding the difference between the two. Proving it, he extended his hand across the table.
“Thanks, man,” he said quietly. “I appreciate it a lot.”
“Well, she is right. I love her, pain in the ass that she is. And she loves you. I even find you mildly tolerable. I think we should get rid of Rory and replace him with Des.” Marcus tilted his head toward Elaine. “He’d be a much cooler son, I promise.”
Rory snorted. “If we’d replace anybody, it’d be the obnoxious Yankee that Thomas dragged home. Des at least was born in the right part of the country.”
“I was originally a mid-westerner. God help me,” Marcus said.
“Still a northerner, dude. Check your geography.”
Marcus bared his teeth at him and turned his attention back to Des. “Tyler also has a couple guest houses on his Gulf property. If you decide to do it, you may be down there for a few weeks, or have to return for follow ups. He said you’re welcome to use one of them whenever you need it. As long as I don’t come, so he doesn’t have to put up with me.”
Julie gripped his hand at the same time she closed her other one around Des’s. “Liar. He’d welcome you just so you could fence post.”
“That’s riposte, which is a maneuver in fencing,” Marcus said, while her eyes danced. “Proof how far a liberal arts education will get you.”
“I like my word better. It included both ideas, which is clever and outside the box. That’s what a liberal arts education will get you.”
“If you find enough business graduates to fund your clever and outside the box ideas,” Marcus retorted. But he squeezed her hand once more before they separated so Elaine could put down the vanilla ice cream. The scoop was already tantalizingly embedded in the creamy treat. Julie eyed it and took a deep breath. Maybe just a small sliver of pie…
Despite the waning afternoon, a nap was in order once they returned to Marcus and Thomas’s house. Des told her he’d join her soon. Marcus was going to take him to his office in the refurbished barn to conference with Jon and the research director on the study particulars.
While she was staying as informed as possib
le about everything that could help Des with his health, he preferred to stay in the lead and consider his own reaction to new data before bringing her opinions into the equation. She tried to respect that most days, and today was easier than most, since she was having trouble staying awake. He gently but firmly suggested she go get her nap, and she decided to comply without complaint.
While she tried to stay awake until he came to join her, the day’s travel and a million other details caught up with her. Her intended short power nap turned into a deep sleep. Thomas and Marcus’s guest room, tucked into the back corner of their old farm house, was designed to be a nap heaven. Her sleep was more restful than any she’d had in a while, except for the nights when Des had given her those thorough sexual workouts.
She’d wondered if that was partly why he’d done it. Even when she was watching out for him, he was watching out for her, too. It was nice.
She had little memory of anything over the next couple hours except the ceiling fan turning slowly over the open canopy of the wood-framed queen-sized bed and the sun fading away over the fields behind the house. The window allowed the bed to be bathed in a square of natural light. Eventually, she felt Des’s arms around her, his lips against her cheek. She nestled into the curve of his body with a sound of contentment and drifted. Despite her earlier desires, she was deep in dreamland, and it was nice just to spin there with him.
When she finally stirred, the clock on the bedside said ten p.m. She’d anticipated waking up an hour ago and sharing a glass of wine with Thomas and Marcus on the front porch. The time startled her enough she would have shot out of bed like a guilty Goldilocks, but Des’s arms were around her. She realized it was the quiet whisper of her name that had brought her out of sleep. “Julie. Wake up for me, love.”
She pressed her face into his throat, pleased when he cupped both his hands around her skull, stroking her hair. “Want to see something worth seeing?” he asked in that same low voice.
“Are you naked?”