by Pamela Yaye
“Only what I told you.” Desree sighed. “I guess you’re right. Letting that child rattle me this way is asinine. He’s probably havin’ a helluva laugh over it.”
“But you don’t believe that?” Leo guessed.
“If it is...that, how would he know it? He was a boy.”
“A clever one, as we both know.”
“But if we never spoke on it—”
“There were times,” Leo interrupted, “I talked to Ken a lot. He could’ve overheard.”
“But why would he wait until now to make an issue of it? I could’ve understood him doing it six years ago instead of now.”
Leo sighed, not wanting further reference to six years ago. Ken Clegg had followed his wife, Grace, into the afterlife.
“Since you called,” Des said, “least you can do is give me the benefit of your wisdom. Any suggestions on how to handle this?”
Leo spared a few seconds to send a groan through the line. “The devil with it. Just ask him.”
* * *
The small pool cottage was quiet except for the sounds of Tielle’s hitched cries echoing throughout the three rooms. Her hands were curved into small fists that beat a steady tune against the flexing, ropey muscles of Grae’s upper back and shoulders.
He’d relieved her of every scrap of clothing she wore and sent it all to the floor in a graceful tumble. Tielle arched and bucked her hips in a wild fashion until Grae laid a heavy forearm across her belly. The move effectively stifled any movement on Tielle’s part.
With her open and settled before him, Grae treated her to a devastating oral display that sent her trembling. Climax stirred within a matter of seconds. Burying all ten fingers in her thick hair, Tielle lost herself in the deeply missed treat. Grae kept his arm across Tielle’s belly while his free hand curved over one thigh, tugging it high to improve her position for him.
Tielle’s gasping, throaty cries broke through with ease, coaxed by Grae’s talented tongue. Her responses livened the air with a continuous stream of sound that, for Grae, was utterly ego-stroking. His head tilted and rotated, slowly at times, then with more fluid speed as he tested some new method of pleasuring her. It all produced the most splendid results, ones that sent Tielle right to the verge of another climax. She could feel herself tipping just slightly over the edge before he tugged her back in a way that possessed a sinful beauty instead of a rugged jarring.
She ordered herself not to beg him. Not wanting to linger in the cottage had little to do with the therapy session they were shamefully late for and everything to do with her not wanting to lower herself to begging him only to be denied again.
“Grae...”
“You want me to stop?”
“No...”
Slowly, he raised his head, easing up over her to tongue her navel with a maddening thoroughness. He charted the sensual course across the undersides of her breasts and the valley between them.
“Tell me what you want me to do, Tielle.”
“Take off your clothes,” she purred, heart thudding voraciously in her while she kissed herself from his tongue.
Soon, they were both equally bare and loving the feel of being together beyond clothing’s boundaries. Sounds of satisfaction stirred from them both. Tielle reveled in the allure of security Grae provided with the power of his magnificent form seductively nudging her body. Each time she attempted pushing him to his back, he bumped the head of his erection against her entrance.
He wasn’t of a mind to relinquish a shred of control.
His loose embrace at the base of her throat effectively stilled her into accepting his kiss. He toyed with her tongue, similar to the manner in which he toyed with the rest of her. Frequently, his sex grazed hers, taunting and then denying full pleasure.
Though desperately aroused, Tielle’s gasp was prompted mostly by remembrance. “Grae...” Her nails scraped his hips in a subtle sign to have all of him. “Wait...”
“Ti—”
“We need condoms.”
Grae’s bronzed stare narrowed dangerously. His hand flexed once like a vise on Tielle’s hip. He inhaled deeply several times and, while the effort removed a sudden frown, the dangerous glint in his eyes remained.
“You’re serious,” he said.
“It’s okay.” She kissed his jaw. “I have plenty.”
“You what?” Grae’s eyes narrowed almost to the point of closing.
Awareness seized its hold, and Tielle considered his hand at her hip. The hold had taken on a quality less akin to caressing.
“You have condoms.”
“Yeah, I—I keep them here. All sizes. I—I know you need larger...” Shrugging, she proffered a weak smile. “It’s good to be prepared. I—I never know when the mood might strike my guests.”
“Is that right? And what about you?”
She blinked, greater awareness creeping into the cognac orbs of her gaze. “I’m pretty sure you keep a healthy stash somewhere convenient,” she challenged, instead of telling him that she hadn’t thought about sex with another man in the year they’d been apart. Let alone even seeing someone else.
Grae appeared stunned, almost hurt by the accusation, yet he schooled his expression before it revealed too much. “So is that what you use this place for?”
She shoved at his chest. “Get off me.”
“Couldn’t even wait for a year, Tel?” He refused to budge. “What about begging me for it last night? Do you keep condoms in the library, too? What would Miss Tina and Miss Danielle think?”
“Wow, Grae, actual questions just spill out when you’re angry, don’t they?” She gave another shove to the unyielding muscular wall of his chest. “Get off me, dammit! Last night was about me being an idiot for you as usual. It’s a good thing you used the head on top of your shoulders then. You so rarely did when we were married.”
Her heart seized when he suddenly brought his head in close to trail his nose across her cheek, along her ear...
“I can’t recall you ever minding the head I used when we were married, Tel.”
Tielle ignored the voice inside her mind and its warning that she not allow her mouth to get her in trouble.
“I so rarely had a choice in the matter,” she blurted anyway.
The admission seemed to weaken Grae’s resolve. He relieved her of his weight, and Tielle turned her face into the pillow next to the one that had been cradling her head. She watched as he silently went about the task of donning his clothes.
“Grae—” Tielle’s words were interrupted by the sight of her clothes being tossed her way courtesy of Graedon.
“You’re right, Ti. We’re already way too late.”
His words made her feel frozen to the bed. She sat there studying the fierce ripple of sinews in his back and shoulders as he jerked his clothes on. She didn’t attempt to move until he’d left the cottage. The front door slammed resoundingly behind him.
* * *
“We’re making a habit of this!” Faro laughed, finding his aunt rounding the long mural-adorned corridor at the same time he did.
Desree’s expression was one of playful unease. “Sounds like we’re late. Not very commendable.”
“Ah, we’re good.” Faro gave a noncommittal wave. “We’re good. It’ll take ’em forty-five minutes to get settled anyway.”
“That’s good, then. It’ll give us the chance to talk.” Des eased her hands into the side pockets of her denim skirt. “What do you want from me, Faro?”
The pointed question only roused sudden laughter from the man.
“You already told me—what was it again? A few more get-togethers might give me an idea of how I could spare the family more drama. Drama about what?”
“Des, come on.” Faro’s resulting grin was not a humorous one. “Stop pla
ying the clueless role. You can’t pull it off.”
“Drama about what?”
Faro sighed, studying his hands as he rubbed them together. “Since discussing all the particulars understandably makes me want to vomit, let’s just say it’s drama about a little...what was the word they used to use for it? Issue?”
Desree gasped. “How—” She stopped herself, realizing that the question would only solidify what Faro thought—and what she knew—to be fact.
“What do you want from me?” she asked instead.
Satisfaction smoothed the harsh lines in Faro’s angular face. “One of two things my father left to others that should’ve been mine.”
“Your father was a smart man.” Understanding gleamed on Desree’s lovely face. “He knew his business wouldn’t survive a year with you at the helm.”
“That’s what he thought—” Faro shrugged beneath a silk dress shirt “—but as we both know, he wasn’t really the best judge of character.”
Desree was close enough to slap her nephew, and she did. The blow echoed in the corridor despite the voices of family members resonating beyond the living room where the therapy session would soon be underway.
“Why would you do this now?” she hissed.
“I could’ve done it earlier if not for momentary weakness,” Faro sneered, touching the back of his hand to where Desree’s blow had landed. “I actually believed my ex-sister-in-law might really pull off the trick of getting my perfect little brother to go against Daddy’s wishes for once in his life. She might’ve managed to do it, too, if Grae didn’t hate me so much.”
“Such emotions aren’t one-sided, you know? They only come into play as defense mechanisms.”
“That’s right.” Faro smiled at the argument. “Always an excuse for Grae. Is that because he’s the baby?”
“Why do you want that deed, Faro?”
“Grae’s already got the building. I at least deserve the land—some part of Dad’s legacy. He was my father, too, right, Des?”
“Don’t play the loving-son role with me, Faro. It’s impossible for you to pull that off.” Des turned her nephew’s earlier jibe around on him. “Ken gave you no part of his legacy for a reason. I’d betray his memory if I did.”
“Right...memories.” Faro nodded and began a short stroll of the corridor. “Some are powerful—impossible—to file away once they’re in your head. You know what I like best about memories though, Des?” He looked her way then. “Sharing them. It’s something I have no qualms about doing.”
Desree merely turned her back on Faro and headed into the living room. Faro wasn’t far behind. Neither noticed Grae watching them from down the long hall.
Chapter 8
The Clegg family therapy session was already set to be a stress-filled affair without the pressure of a lover’s spat perched on top of the pile. Yet Tielle ordered herself to withstand the agitation as she rounded the corner and went down the corridor leading to the living room selected for the gathering.
She felt a few layers of her apprehension lift when she spotted Desree. Unfortunately, that brief relief dissolved when her assessing stare met Grae’s stony one. He sat in one of the wide maroon armchairs in the alcove. The choice of seating put a noticeable distance between him and the rest of his family. The others had selected seating on the sofas, love seats and other cushioned chairs that the staff had arranged more to the center of the room.
Figuring Grae’s request that she remain by his side during the retreat’s events was then null and void, Tielle opted for the settee near the room’s entrance.
“You’re welcome to move closer, Ti.” Dr. Valerie DeLoache’s voice held subtle amusement.
Tielle appeared to shudder over the suggestion. “Please don’t make me.” She lowered her head.
Dr. DeLoache twittered a laugh before patting her boss’s shoulder and moving on into the living area to greet the Clegg group.
* * *
“...I spent ten years on staff there, before leaving Chicago to join Ms. Turner’s organization. I’ve been the retreat’s lead therapist for the past five years,” Valerie DeLoache told the group as they settled in for the session.
“In addition to welcoming you all to our beautiful estate, I’d also like to commend your family for acting proactively to fix the issues causing whatever tensions exist among you—”
“Thank you, Dr. DeLoache,” Asia called out before the woman could continue, “but I think many of us here would agree that there’s nothing causing tension in our family...anymore.”
With that said, most heads in the room turned toward Tielle. She commanded her eyes to remain fixed on the colorful landscaped piece above the fireplace mantle.
“That’s a close-minded perspective, Asia,” Faro told his cousin before the doctor could respond. “Tielle only tried to get us to own up to issues we had long before she ever became one of us.”
“She was never one of us,” Asia retorted.
“Cut it out, girl,” admonished one of the uncles.
“She tried to help us,” Faro said. “That was until she had the will to do so stifled by bullying and ultimatums.”
“Mr. Clegg, I’m sure—”
The doctor’s words were then interrupted by Grae’s rumbling voice. “Something you need to say to me, Faro?”
“There’s a lot I need to say to you.” Faro refused to look at his brother.
Grae spread his hands. “Well? Let’s have it.”
“You see, Doctor?” Asia cried. “They never griped like this before she came along.”
“Asia, shut it!” Ranata ordered through clenched teeth.
Stunned by her usually calm-natured cousin, Asia piped up to rake the woman over the coals.
“Your instigating and snide remarks caused just as much trouble for Grae and Ti as Grae did with his bullying,” Asia said before her cousin could blast her. “All that foolishness from Grae is what lost him Tielle, leaving us to deal with the ogre he’s become.”
“Ladies.” Valerie remained professional, admirably calm despite the ripple of tension Asia’s remark sent through the room. “This is a wonderful start. You guys are venting and giving voice to your feelings, but we need to do it in a more constructive—”
“You two hush,” Barry ordered the bickering cousins. “Grae’s got every right to be pissed about what went on back then. His only fault was comin’ down so hard on Tielle when it was Faro who deserved to be kicked in the teeth.”
“These young folk in the family are a mess,” Jill agreed with her brother.
“Amen.” Paul sighed.
Tielle bowed her head and battled the urge to up and leave the room. Resolute, she looked up to catch Desree’s gaze. The woman appears defeated, Tielle thought, watching as Des shook her head once in regret.
The living room swelled with the volume of voices chiming in on the subject then.
“Everyone—” Dr. DeLoache stood, waving her hands for calm, and was completely overlooked.
“Uncle Barry, you and Uncle Paul should shut up,” Asia spat. “All you focus on when you see Tielle are her tits and ass, so excuse me if your opinions mean squat.”
“Guys, please.”
Quiet settled, and it seemed that the therapist had finally gained control of her wayward group. In reality, the control had more to do with the fact that everyone had stopped arguing to catch their breaths.
“People, nothing will be settled until you all allow one another the time and courtesy to hear each other.”
“No, Doc,” Faro intervened. “Nothing will be settled until these people admit that all the mess—” he stressed the word while sending his aunt Jill a pointed look “—started with the older folks protecting a lot of dirty secrets that got all the mistrust started in the first place.”
“Not this again,” his cousin, Wendell Clegg, groaned. “Faro, what in the hell are you talkin’ about?”
“I’m willin’ to bet there are those who really don’t know, but there’re even more who do and they’ve kept it quiet for way too long,” Faro insisted.
“I need to talk to you, Faro,” Desree announced as she suddenly got to her feet.
Dr. DeLoache rushed forward. “Ms. Clegg—”
“Alone!”
“Des—”
“Now, Faro!”
Jaws dropped as the usually poised and cool-natured Desree blustered past her family on her way out of the living room. Despite his earlier boldness, even Faro appeared rather unnerved by his aunt’s summons.
Tielle gave none of her former in-laws the benefit of her gaze. She was too busy studying Grae’s expression. He remained in his remote corner not looking at his family but hunched over in his chair. His elbows were braced on his knees while he used one hand to stroke his jaw. Tielle thought he reflected an element of true concentration...and suspicion. She could hear the murmur of voices easing in as the group tried to make sense of what had just happened. She took advantage of the confusion to make her escape.
It was as though he’d sensed her intentions before she had the chance to put them into action. Tielle saw Grae slide his extraordinary stare her way. He watched her with the same mix of concentration and suspicion. The look was enough to make Tielle shred the last of her procrastination and leave the room.
“Tielle, wait up!”
Valerie’s call sent a thread of resentment sliding along Tielle’s spine. Still, she lost some of her edginess when she turned to face the woman. Tielle could see that the normally unflustered doctor was then looking decidedly rattled around the edges.
“Need a drink, Val?” Tielle teased.
The woman tucked a lock of chestnut-brown hair behind her ear and risked a glance across her shoulder. Most of the group was still embroiled in heated debate.