by CORY CYR
“He knows a little about my mom but none of the real specifics, and he got the cliff note’s version regarding my father. I’m thankful this city thought so highly of the bastard, so they were pretty closed-lipped about his history. I guess I was afraid how he’d react. His family is so perfect, and it’s bad enough he’s witnessed my mom’s episodes of drinking,” Trina leaned against the back of the sofa, closing her eyes. “I thought he’d maybe think ‘the apple doesn’t fall to far from the tree.’ I was scared he wouldn’t want me . . . hell, I was even contemplating us moving, but I didn’t want to leave my mom or Andrew. Honestly, I had no intention of saddling Andrew to take care of my mom by himself—he’s been through enough.” As she spoke, I moved closer to her, taking her wine glass and setting it down on the table. I put my arm around her as she cried tears into my shirt.
“Your secret is safe with me. We’ll never talk about it again,” I said as I cradled her body in my arms.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t more specific about your dad’s illness. The truth is, Ryan, he didn’t want you to know. He always hoped you’d come home because you wanted to, not out of some obligation. I know you two had a rocky relationship, and I don’t know why he was so good to Andrew and me. We loved your dad.” Hearing her talk about how much she and Shea loved my dad made old resentments bubble to the surface. I had spent most of my youth attempting to gain my dad’s acceptance, when in reality nothing I could do would ever be enough. Evidently he’d found solace in the neighbor’s children, who were better models for perfection than I was.
I was thirty-four years old, and I had feelings of jealousy about my dad giving affection to children who had been abused by their own father. What kind of a person does that make me?
“Let’s not talk about this anymore—I think we’re both emotionally drained. I know I am. Some more wine?” I asked, getting up and going to the kitchen. Trina followed behind me. I refilled her glass and mine. Her eyes were puffy and her mascara was a mess.
“I think you should wash your face, or Quinn will see that you’ve been crying,” I said as I motioned her towards the bathroom. Five minutes later she came back out, her face clean of any makeup, but her eyes still red.
“Are you living here now?” she asked, as she sat back down.
I knew she had seen my cosmetics and flat iron in the bathroom. “No, I just like keeping some things here. Shea has a bunch of his stuff at my house, and we go back and forth,” I commented as I moved to close the bathroom door. I sat back down next to her, placing my hand on top of hers.
“I feel horrible that I wasn’t here for you. Hell, I feel like the worse excuse for a friend and a daughter. I need to know if we’re okay.” I looked at Trina because, deep down, I felt like I had abandoned everyone, and I felt selfish for not being here.
Trina nodded, squeezing my hand. “Of course,” she lightly smiled. “I don’t think we’ve gotten into a girl fight since high school.”
“Only because you were four years younger and so damn immature about shit that drove me insane.”
Trina was right; we hadn’t had any altercations, not since high school, when we fought all the time; in fact, most of our early years we spent arguing, then making up. She was the only real friend I ever had. The acquaintances I had in New York were going to disengage from any friendship we might have had as soon as I filed for divorce. It was all about whom people knew and how much money people had, and being back in Alaska, I had neither. Having Trina as my closest friend, and Shea as my lover, was my greatest source of comfort. I couldn’t afford to ostracize either.
“Ryan, it bothers me that you would think I purposely kept things from you. It may appear like that, but it wasn’t done maliciously, I swear,” Trina said, checking her watch. “I should go, it’s almost 9:00 and Andrew will be coming home soon.”
“So what, I invited you over to talk. I mean, you have been gone for two weeks, so I doubt Shea would find it suspect and think we are having some dark covert mission,” I scoffed, as I took another sip of wine.
“Okay, just a little while longer.” Trina paused. “Tell me about you and my brother, I want to know everything.”
“Seriously, T, not going to give you details. If it was anyone else I would, but not when it involves Shea. I can’t go there with you,” I said, laughing. Trina looked over at me and started giggling. We had gotten past the fight part and now we were just hanging out.
“Ew . . . gross, like I would want details about my brother’s sex life. Just the highlights please,” Trina grinned.
“He’s nothing like I thought, there’s a gentleness to him and he has great compassion. Shea is just a beautiful man, inside and out.” My voice went quiet. “When I’m with him, he gives me comfort, and I feel safe. I can’t explain it. I felt such emptiness in my personal and professional life, and he fills that void.”
Trina’s fingers glided around the rim of the wine glass as she looked over at me thoughtfully. “You do love him, don’t you? I know you said you didn’t want to label this, but I can hear it in your voice and see it on your face. You feel for him what he’s always felt for you.”
“I can’t begin to explain a young boy’s version of love. I guess something was there because I doubt he could just fall in love with me overnight, and I do believe him when he tells me he loves me because I can feel with every fiber of my being.” I felt silent tears start to trickle out of my eyes. “I’m so afraid he’ll leave me when he finds out I’m married. I’m filing for divorce. I have too . . . I love Shea. Tell me what I should do, T, help me because the guilt is tearing me apart.” It was Trina’s turn to comfort me as I choked back a cry. I had to get myself together before Shea came home. I didn’t want him to find me emotionally wrecked—he’d know something was wrong.
“We’ll start working on finding a lawyer tomorrow. I’ll talk to Quinn, I’m sure he’ll help. As far as my brother, I’m not sure how he’ll react. He has to know you’ve been with quite a few men.” When Trina made that statement, I arched my brows up because I wasn’t what she thought.
“Just for general information, I’ve only been with seven men, including your brother. God, T, you make me sound like some brazen whore hound,” I said, glaring at her.
“Okay, whatever,” Trina acquiesced, waving her hands about. “That’s four more than me, so you’re way more experienced.”
“Why does it matter anyway? You told me Shea’s been fucking since the age of thirteen, so I’m sure he’s compiled quite a roster of women,” I retorted.
“Irrelevant, trust me on that. Andrew will never see past the word ‘marriage,’ because in his mind that means love and forever, a permanent thing, at least to him. It will bother him that you felt that for someone else besides him. He’s twenty-one, remember? He’ll be blinded by jealousy, possessiveness and a lot of rage. Why do you think I never told him? You are the love of his young life.”
“Will he forgive me?” I asked, even though it was yet another question I truly didn’t want the answer to. Trina stood up and began wrapping her scarf around her neck. She then proceeded to slip her coat on.
“I honestly don’t know, but what I do know is that my brother’s love for you is fierce. I doubt he’d give you up. I really think you should come clean, and it would be better if he heard it from you.” Trina grabbed her purse and started strolling to the door.
“I don’t know what I should do,” I said, raking my hand through my hair. “I mean, how could he find out? I was thinking I should wait until I got my divorce. This whole thing is eating me up.”
Trina turned and looked at me. “Let me talk to Quinn, and then we can figure things out. I love my brother, but he’s not as mellow as you make him out to be. You just haven’t seen him mad.”
Trina’s revelation didn’t make me feel better—only worse. I got the feeling that she was trying to tell me casually that Shea had a temper and that in itself made me apprehensive to tell him the truth. I had to tell him before thin
gs got out of hand. I wondered how much a lawyer was going to cost. I might have to think about selling the Corvette. I was going to have to lie, yet again to Shea, about why I needed that much money.
“Promise me you’ll think about telling Quinn what happened. His love will be your greatest comfort,” I said, walking her to the door.
As Trina left, I closed the door behind her and leaned against the frame. Shea and I had a relationship like a house of cards, and at some point, all the cards were going to come crashing down.
Chapter TWENTY-THREE
Before I knew it, the beginning of the holiday season had crept up on me. I loathed the holidays. Realistically, it was better here in Fairbanks than in New York. New York was insanity defined during the holidays, with millions of people bombarding each other from every direction, trying to buy the perfect gift. Shea and I had been spending more time together, sharing our nights, either at my house or his apartment. We also began spending more time with Trina and Quinn and planned to spend Thanksgiving with them.
I had been lucky because Quinn had found me a lawyer, one that didn’t have any association with Trina’s father’s old firm. Trina wanted to keep the people who knew about my impending divorce in a tight circle because she didn’t want to chance any information getting back to Shea. I had finally convinced Trina to confide in Quinn about everything that had happened with her father. I think Quinn felt terrible that his wife thought he would abandon her if he knew the truth. Trina appeared much more content now that she had bared her soul to her husband. I could only pray that I’d get that same kind of reaction when I confessed my truth to Shea.
Shea and I decided to share our Thanksgiving with Trina and Quinn instead of having our own. I hadn’t seen their new condo yet so I was excited. They lived in a two-story, 4500 square feet condo in a very upscale community. The inside reminded me of those model homes seen listed for sale. Everything was expensive and pristine. The kitchen looked large enough to rival a restaurant kitchen, and the adjoining dining room sat twelve comfortably. The walls of the living room and three bedrooms were all dark, rich looking wood and the furniture was black leather with red accessories, while the three bathrooms were done in chrome and smoked glass. As we sat down to eat a delicious meal I realized how different Shea was from Trina.
Both came from money, yet he chose to live a simpler life. He drove an old Bronco, and he lived in an apartment when clearly he could have afforded a house. He’d taken employment that gave him purpose rather than made him rich. Shea had a force driving him, and I wasn’t sure what it was, but I knew it stemmed from his childhood. Regardless of where he came from, he was passionate about his job, his life and me.
After the first of the year, things for us would drastically change. I had some decisions to make. I would be out of a job by then. I knew it had been only temporary but I actually enjoyed it. I like the people I worked with, and was surprised because I actually looked forward to going to work. I could sell the house and use the money to purchase an apartment and still have funds left over for living expenses. I had already decided to sell the corvette and use the proceeds to pay for my divorce.
Doing the paperwork was tricky. Trina and Quinn had set me up with a female attorney due to the nature of my complaints, as well as my fears. Ms. Hall was very cordial but wielded a very professional sword. Her specialty was divorce litigations for women, and she took her job, and my safety, very seriously.
I had described everything for her in writing and had given her my x-rays. She explained that everything would be split fifty-fifty, and New York was a no-fault state, so no one cared why I wanted a divorce—it didn’t matter. I knew that Garrison would contest it and do everything in his power to track me down. Garrison didn’t have to give me anything; all I wanted was my freedom.
Everything I truly wanted was here. How ironic that the place I fled to follow my dream ended up being the place I found my dream. I had no idea how she was accomplishing it, but Ms. Hall was able to file the paperwork without revealing my whereabouts, and she also wanted me to file an order of protection, but that would require my location. I decided against it. This was happening really fast, and once again, I felt as though Shea would find out the truth elsewhere before I got the chance to explain.
*****
The week before Christmas, I was in the garage cleaning up the Corvette, readying it for sale. The weather had not only turned bitter cold, but we now only had six hours of daylight. It was totally screwing up my internal clock, and most days it felt like Shea and I ate dinner at midnight instead of six. The entire city was now heavily blanketed with snow, and not the scenic fluffy snow—the angry, hostile, and hard, icy kind.
“Hey baby.”
I looked up from the car and saw Shea standing there in dress pants, his white work shirt and Christmas tie. I had to laugh when I saw that he had accessorized the outfit with a Santa hat. I arched an eyebrow at him. “I told you, I’m just not into Christmas,” I muttered, throwing my rag at him.
“Really, this?” he said, pointing to himself. “Does not get you excited for the holidays?”
I paused after I strolled over to him, and tugged on his tie. He bent down and kissed me. He tasted like peppermints and coffee. This man always smelled good and tasted delicious. I licked my lips as we pulled apart.
“Actually, on second thought, I might be able to get into it, if you lose everything but the hat and tie,” I negotiated as I backed him out of the garage and into the house. I could tell from the bulge in his pants that he could get into it also. I smiled, knowing I could always make him hard.
“What are you grinning about?” he said, as he began to remove his shirt. I moved close to him again and pressed my palm to his chest. God, I loved the feel of him, even under the tattoos. My fingers had become accustomed to the scar tissue passing over them with little notice. My tongue darted out and teased his right nipple causing it to sharpen into a hard point. Shea’s hand went to mine on his chest.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” he purred.
“Every single day,” I weakly sighed back, my hands moving down to his pants. I rubbed my pussy against his stiff erection. I heard a groan from his mouth as I continued to press myself into him.
“Jesus, Ryan, coming in my pants isn’t going to be attractive,” he chuckled as he pushed me back slightly.
I just stared at him with lusty eyes. “You do that to me all the time,” I remarked quietly.
“I make you come in your panties? Babe, are you drenched for me now?” he wondered as his hand went to my crotch, pressing into the tight seam of my pants.
“I’m not wearing any,” I quipped, very quietly.
Five seconds later, Shea was naked, except for the hat and tie . . . Santa would have been proud. He bypassed my sweater and my socks as he pulled down my jeans. I heard him click his teeth together loudly when he saw I really was commando and glistening with wetness. His finger gently traced my labia, gathering moisture. Our eyes locked as he used two fingers and penetrated me, brushing my clit with his thumb. I bit down on my bottom lip because it felt so sensually rough. As he leaned forward to kiss me, he pushed me backward until my ass met the sofa. Shea sat in front of me on the coffee table. I looked up at him, my lips swollen from his kiss, my other lips swollen with desire. He took away his fingers, leaving me close to the edge. I watched him through hooded eyes, his blue eyes like a beacon. He took my legs and pulled them straight out to his lap, then centered my feet between his legs.
“Can you bend your knees for me, baby, and spread your legs?” For some reason I felt embarrassed and totally exposed. I was sitting on the sofa in my sweater and socks with my legs spread wide. I don’t even think my gynecologist ever had this good of a view. My cheeks blushed pink and I felt the heat spread to my chest. Shea leaned forward, caressed my legs, and let his fingers simply linger at my mound.
“Did I ever mention what a pretty pussy you have?” he remarked, as his breathing becam
e a shallow rasp. He reached forward, bending his head, and touched the tip of his tongue to my clit. His tongue created enough friction to make me sit up a little taller, and I moaned softly from the incredible sensations. I ran my fingers through his hair as I pushed him into me. I wanted more. He slipped in further, stroking my clit with his fingers as his tongue dipped inside me, licking and lapping my slick, moist flesh. I felt swollen and saturated. He moved in closer, using his thumb to put pressure on my clit, as he pushed in tongue farther into me. My skin felt like hundreds of needles were prickling my flesh while Shea’s tongue was licking all my hypersensitive nerve endings. I had my eyes closed, but I wanted to see him, to watch his face. When I lifted my eyes to look at him, his eyes were closed and there was a sheen of moisture on his face where my wetness had touched him. The look on his face stole my breath.
As if he knew I was watching him, his eyes snapped open. A shimmer of light danced across knowing blue eyes filled with satisfaction as he pushed me towards release. I took my hands from his hair and gripped the sofa as I began to push towards his mouth. I wanted him deeper—I wanted to be filled. I pushed myself into his mouth, as I felt him begin to nip at my clit. My arms began to prickle with goose bumps as I felt the wanton ache of impending release.
“Shea,” I sobbed, as my hands left the sofa and went back to his hair. He was relentless; his tongue was still buried inside of me as he rocked me through my cell-splitting orgasm.
“Please, no more . . . I can’t take it,” I cried, trying to push his mouth from my sex. He finally stopped, looking up at me with a self-serving grin. As he pulled back, I scooted backward on the sofa, snapping my legs closed. I could still feel the humming throughout my body as I sat there. I looked at Shea and his cock appeared stretched to the limit, thick and steely.
“You want me to do something about that?” I asked, nodding towards his swollen member. Shea shook his head as he got up and retrieved his pants. I was confused why he didn’t want me to take care of him. Once he got his pants on, he sat next to me on the sofa, rubbing my thighs.