The Sweetest Package

by Leigh Lennon

  “My father, I mean you know who he is. He was never father of the year, but he was still my dad and the one I called Papa as he was the one that called me Aleksandra.

  He looks a bit confused when I say, “In Russia, to make a name a nickname, you add Sha to it. Well, my grandfather was Aleksander and my father tried to name me Aleksandra but my mother, who hated my grandfather, insisted that Sasha was close enough. Aleksander gets shortened to Sander and then put sha on it and it becomes Sasha.” I see the wheels working in his head, “I know, it makes no sense, but that is my dad. It was Dad’s one concession to my mother, though he always called me Aleksandra.” I smile when I continue remembering this one little memory that brings a little more human touch to my father. “Seems like I have always been destined to have many nicknames,” I say, thinking of the shit ton of names my man had come up with for me in the ten days we’d been together.

  “Well, shit, the things you learn. Sorry, cupcake, I deal more with Chinese issues so my Russian is shaky at best, but hell, I am fluent in Mandarin and Chinese; like that will help us.” His humor, I need it right now as it puts me at ease.

  How did I not know this about Jake? It’s sometimes hard to believe that I’ve known this man ten days and not ten years. However, the way he reads me is more than anyone ever could, even my own mother.

  “Anyway, my Papa, after Mama died, I heard him talking about how he’d make the men that killed Mama his mission in life. He’d gut them and send their bodies back to their families. Part of me was horrified, but I hurt so much. I was only eighteen and I needed vengeance. It wasn’t until Sylvie saved me that I was made aware of the other tape they had, where my father was arranging the death of my mother. My father arranged for me to overhear the first conversation. So he let me believe my mother was gunned down in retaliation for something he did, when he, in turn, had her killed.”

  I watch Jakes’ hand tremble, reaching for mine. “Oh, Ginger, honey. I can relate. Oh, you know.” And this little part of Jake, the one where his dad is responsible for his mom’s death, he knows every little hurt and betrayal I feel.

  “It didn’t seem real, Davis, not at first. Not until the safe house we were staying at in Spokane, just days after you let me go, was gunned down.”

  He pauses and I see the hatred in his eyes release, kicking the table over. “I was back in the Caymans sorting out Mack’s part in all this shit.” He screams, “I remember when I returned, it was all over the news!” He’s still yelling loud as Burbank and Sylvie file into the room. “You are telling me he took a shot at you?” He’s in my space, taking my hair gently, pulling it back, looking deep into my eyes.

  I attempt to rub his hands. He has just found out I could have been killed and he’s handling it as though it’s just happened. In his mind, it has.

  “Yes, Davis. I was safe.”

  “But wait for a second, someone was hit. Was that you?”

  I shake my head as my eyes fall on Sylvie. Turning around slowly, he watches Sylvie, who is still in tears over their fall out earlier. I wish I understood the story more fully, why she’s like this with Luchen and Morry and why vengeance on my father is so important. It’s as if it’s personal.

  Letting go of my hand, he walks over to Sylvie. “You put yourself between my Ginger and her father.”

  Nodding her head, she only says, “Jacob, I have done some messed up shit in the past, all to bring down this son of a bitch. I have screwed you over more times than I can count, but believe me when I say, I’d die for Sasha and your daughter.”

  She turns, taking her leave when Burbank follows. My man is left standing there, lost for words.

  15

  Jake

  Why am I so conflicted right now? I mean, I’m justified in wanting to hate this woman. She lied to me, used me, and kept me from my girls for three years. Of course, I hate her.

  Fuck, I liked it much better when I wholeheartedly despised her. Now, I’m left feeling sorry for her and for all the times I doubted her. Shit, of course, I doubted her and never trusted her, she never gave me a reason to believe anything she’d said.

  With Ginger’s slender arms wrapping around my frame, I hear her whisper, “It’s okay not to know how to feel with Sylvie. She used us to further her vendetta against my father.”

  Oh, how I love this woman. She gets me and I’m not stunned when her words immediately calm me.

  “I’m so messed up right now,” I admit while she makes her way to the front of my body. “I want to hate her and I refuse to apologize for setting Hannah straight, keeping her away from my sister.”

  She rubs her hand down my scruffy jawline, a reminder to shave soon. “And you shouldn’t. You were working with the information you had.”

  Pulling her up against my waist, I continue, “But I’m thankful as fuck she did one decent thing in her life by putting you first.”

  She breaks our oneness when she looks up at me and says, “Sylvie is complex. I came to terms with that years ago, when she’d get up with Junior and walk her around the house. Sleeping on her back caused her pain from the worst acid reflux the doctors had ever seen.” Ah, thinking of the time I missed with our girl sends pangs of guilt radiating through my chest.

  Ginger continues, “And it was hard. The girl who manipulated Mack and Anna along with all she’s done to you in the past is almost impossible to reconcile with the woman who has cared for Junior as an aunt and given me a friendship I’ve never known with another person. And more so, she’s the one that ultimately brought us together and gave us Junior.”

  “But I want to hate her,” I say. “And I want to thank her all in the same breath.”

  “I have two Sylvie’s. One I hate and place away from me, and one I love that I consider my friend, if that helps.”

  Somehow the dual personality theory of Sylvie works because it’s true. She has many faces, many personas, and all of them contradict each other.

  I can’t think of Sylvie anymore; however, I have one last question that must be answered. “Do you know why this vendetta against your father is so important to Sylvie?”

  Ginger shakes her head no and that is all I need to put this subject to bed for the time being. The only thing I want in my bed in the immediate future is the striking redhead in front of me who happens to be the mother of my child.

  Bringing her into our room and placing her on the king-sized bed, I watch her face contort with many emotions in only ten seconds. She’s consumed with guilt, for being away from Junior, but wanting us, this.

  “Ginge, sugar.”

  “I can’t, Davis.” While she’s sitting on the bed, I bring her head to my abdomen and hold her.

  “It’s okay.” Tilting her head up, her cheeks are tear-stained. “I’m not going anywhere, but hon, you have nothing to be guilty about if we spend the night making love to one another.

  “I should be with her,” is all she says and, of course, she's adamant about this. “If you want to go, I’ll walk you to the hospital and we will sleep in the bed next to Davis.”

  “No, you need a good night’s sleep, honey, and I do feel guilty, as if I’m picking you over her.”

  Grabbing her hand, I take it and hold it tight, “No, never. There is no competition, honey, but there is also no guilt in us making love tonight, either.” But hell, I won’t allow guilt to seep into what should be wonderful and beautiful together. I’m a big boy and I can wait. It’s the words I say to myself to tamp down my raging hard-on, that is.

  “But I need you, Jake, as much as I’m a mom to our girl, I’m a woman, too. You are my lifeline to the screwed-up world that consumes me, dragging me deeper into the darkness. You are everything light in my world, you and our daughter.”

  Trailing kisses down her neck, her moan sets me off as kisses become nips and I restrain myself. I won’t do anything Ginger will ever question. “Ginge, sugar,” I warn because I can only hold off a little bit longer if she truly doesn’t want this.

 
“I need you. I need this, us, right now, to get me through the hell that will be the next couple of days. You make me whole. Without you, I’m half of what I need to be.”

  Her words are beautiful and they are all I need, but I’m pulling back, “Warning, Ginge, this will be quick and hard, but fuck, we have our whole life for slow and tender.”

  “Fuck me now and make love to me later.” This is my Sasha, my Ginger, my cupcake and my sugar.

  Here is the Ginger I fell in love with, this is her, and I’m never letting her go.

  In all the ways I had memorized Sasha’s body in the time we were together, I never forgot the slight freckles that cover her back or the sexy as fuck mole right below her panty line.

  However, the most memorable part of Sasha, my Ginger, is the way she reacts to my touch. The second my fingers trail down her body, from the fucking gorgeous mountains of her chest to the beautiful curves of her hips and everything in between. It’s her mind I’m able to turn on like a fucking light switch.

  Worry is gone in this moment. Sure, we are still parents, albeit I have had a lot less experience than Ginger, but hell, we need this in order to feel complete again.

  There are no words that can be said at this time, maybe a couple giggles as her body responds to me like a well-oiled machine and she’s home. It doesn’t matter where we are, only that we are together.

  With one hand on her tit and the other tickling her stomach lightly, her moans make me come undone. Hell, if I don’t find my way into her soon, I may not make it that far.

  However, like always when it comes to my Ginger, I need to taste her because her needs will always come before my own. Bringing her legs to where they dangle off the edge of the bed, I kneel on the floor. Taking both hands now, I spread the lips of her pussy open when all I can think is that this is just a small part of what I have missed with Ginger.

  Taking one finger to circle her clit and the other to delve deep into her, I find her g-spot, and she explodes around me. I hear her above me, “Fuck, Davis, just your touch makes me explode like a Fourth of July firecracker.” I chuckle at her analogy. We will be celebrating the Fourth of July every freaking night, that is a promise I make to myself now.

  I have waited three years to feel her luscious body wrapped around my cock. I look up, “Ginger, I have been careful.” And fuck, do I not want to address the fact, here and now, that I’ve been with other girls just recently, but I’ve muted the mood enough for right now.

  “Me, too. I trust you, Davis.” I scowl, knowing this is a complete jackass, double standard, dick move, but we will address the subject of past partners of hers later.

  It takes nothing with the wetness of her pussy for me to push in easily, though she is just as tight as I remember. I start to increase my speed as Ginger shouts, no, demands, “Fuck me faster!” Ah, I have missed her dirty mouth.

  I push so hard that soon Ginger’s head, which had been in the middle of the bed, is now up against the headboard. One more thrust and I’m done, her spasms indicate she has come, too.

  “Fuck, Davis, I missed you.”

  Collapsing on top of her, I can only nod because it’s the fucking truth.

  We must be too wired to sleep as we lay in silence, holding one another after coming down from the high of the orgasmic connection we’ve just shared.

  Finally, breaking the silence, Ginger raises her head and asks the question I’ve been dreading. “Davis, I know you had to live after I went into hiding and you couldn’t find me, but how many women have you been with since me?”

  Finding the scruff of my beard, which is still driving me batshit crazy, I wince at her words while I rub it, hoping to have some time to think before I tell her the truth. Not that there have been that many women but fuck, imagining one man with Ginger kills me, especially if that fucker had been Luchen. Before I can speak, Ginger cuts me off, “I know it’s unfair to ask. You were looking for me, I know that, but…”

  “No, sugar, I get it. It’s just that I was finally coming to terms with the fact you were permanently out of my life, just in the past year. I dated some. But none felt right…” My words trail off because I feel guilty as fuck.

  “But you are a guy and you have needs.” These words by Sasha are true but absolutely none of these women came even close to holding a candle to Ginger.

  “It wasn’t until about a year ago I started dating again, but nothing stuck. I dated a girl for a month and when she became more serious than I was, I let her go. I mean, I couldn’t give her what she needed but we had been together. Then there was one or two more and then April, who was coming over the night you showed up, but we hadn’t taken that step yet.” I had already called April, though, and broke the news to her that my heart had always been with someone else. Can’t say she didn’t call me a fucker for messing with her mind. I get it, but Sasha is all I’ve ever wanted.

  She laughs. She finds this funny while I’m feeling guilty as fuck. But she only says, “So you are telling me the yummy ravioli I ate that night was part of your seduction plan of the unsuspecting April.”

  “Ah, I’m glad you can laugh about it,” I tease.

  “No, I get it, Davis. I never expected you to abstain from sex altogether. It just sucks that our lives took us on this course.”

  With turnabout being fair play, I take the opportunity to ask about her, but I’m not sure I want to know. However, before I can formulate my question, she says, “There has been no one, Davis. I mean, Luchen and I tried to make something work. I won’t lie and I understand you may hate him more than Sylvie, which quite honestly is hard to believe, but I never could take that step.” With my back against the headboard, Ginger is cuddled up next to me. She turns away, taking away the warmth of her touch. “But I never could bite that proverbial bullet because my heart has belonged to you. Since the day in the airport, I’ve been yours.”

  Though I feel guilty I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants, something about her waiting for me makes me know that what we have together is worth fighting for.

  16

  Sasha

  Four in the morning, I wake to a text message from Luchen and one from Sylvie.

  Luchen: We should be able to do the tests and everything for the bone marrow extraction today. Be sure to tell that jackass of yours not to eat.

  I chuckle because there is a whole hell of a lot more to the story of Luchen and Jake than both of them caring for me. However, enough drama has ascended on me so their shit will still be there when I’m ready. All I know is that Junior will be getting what she needs in the next couple of days. Scrolling down to the next text, I read Sylvie’s message.

  Sylvie: We got what we need to put your father away. He slipped up. The FBI had someone on the inside and we got him dead to rights. It should be today but I’ll explain later. You and Jake will be able to return to a normal life after the dust settles.

  I should have woken Jake but he really needs the rest for the part he will play in Junior’s recovery, especially after the workout we both partook in last night. My insides are about ready to burst I’m so happy. Junior is on the road to recovery, my dad is being arrested today, and Jake is part of it all!

  I leave Jake a note:

  Davis,

  I went to check on Junior! Don’t eat! Testing today! Sylvie has good news. Meet me at the hospital when you wake.

  Love you, babe!

  Ginge

  Because of all of this, and how my life will be normal again, I can’t wait to see my girl. Knowing that she’ll be able to be part of the living makes my heart sing. She has wanted to have a play date from the first time I took her to the park, along with the whole entourage that Sylvie boasts. We could only do it once and it was after we begged her, after the first results of the tests. She saw girls playing together and asked if they were sisters. Her ability to understand at such a young age makes me reel sometimes. When the little girls said they were best friends, she came back to me and asked what one was. When I expla
ined this to her and she said, “Sylvie my best friend but want one my age,” I almost cried.

  But now, she can go to pre-school and the park without a protective detail all while having Jake with us.

  I’m not paying attention to a care of the world. Sylvie just put me on stand down and for that reason, I enter Junior’s room without noticing the guards were both gone on the floor at the elevator and at her room. When I walk in, carrying a tea for me, I’m so wired when I come face to face with the man I have not seen for three years, sitting next to my daughter, talking to her like they were long lost friends.

  Dropping my drink, hot tea splashes all over my jeans and heels. My attention is directed to the man who has filled me with animosity as he turns to me and uses the name he only calls me, “Aleksandra.” I always hated it. “Why do you look so scared to see your Papa? My granddaughter and I are just getting acquainted. What a doll.”

  I look at Junior, who is not to be subjected to anyone in her secure room except Jake, Sylvie, Mack and myself. Where the fuck is Mack, I wonder. But I look at Junior, she had been smiling until she sees the look on my face, then she starts crying. My father looks at her, “Hush, child. I’m your Grandpapa and I won’t hurt you.” Turning to me, he continues, “Aleksandra, you are scaring this poor child, now knock it off before worse things happen.”

  Walking toward him and out of the earshot of my daughter, I lean over like I’m kissing him on the cheek when I say, “Gee, Papa, the last time I saw you, you tried to kill me. I wonder how I'm supposed to act.” Standing between him and my daughter, he will have to go through me to get to her.

  Still, with his strong Russian accent, he huffs when he starts, “Ah, Aleksandra, what strong words, my dear. I never would do that.”

  Cutting him off, I hold Junior’s hand for comfort, “Like you didn’t with Mama.”