by J. Kenner
On the whole, the day is perfect. But by the time evening rolls around, I'm ready for something more. Something hotter.
Something like Dallas. Naked.
Naked and inside me, actually.
He shifts on the lounge chair to refill his wine and grins at me. "I can read your thoughts."
"Can't."
"No?" He trails a finger from my collarbone over my breast and all the way down to my clit.
I whimper. "Well, maybe you are a little psychic."
He kisses me gently, but though I expect it to build to more, he pulls back and asks me, "Are you worried about tomorrow?"
I think about it. "Not really. Even if I do lose the movie, I'll still have the book. I talked to my agent, and she says she's not concerned on that front at all. Code Name: Deliverance is moving forward."
"Is it?"
I make a face. "Yeah, well, I may end up changing my theme a bit." The premise of the book is the damage done by vigilante groups. And while I still hold to that theory where some groups are concerned, I've changed my mind about Deliverance now that I know who the players are and I've seen it from the inside.
"If Bill ends up arresting me, you can turn it into a memoir."
I shoot him a hard look. "Don't even say that. I can't--Dallas, if something happened to you..."
He pulls me closer. "I know. God, baby, I know."
I hear the catch in his throat, and it suddenly hits me just how well he does know. Because something did happen to me.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," I say.
"Me? Oh, baby..." He cups my face, and I see something flicker in his eyes. "I want--"
"What?"
"You."
My smile blooms bright. "You have me."
"I want more. I want--" He stands, and I frown at him, not sure what's going on. "I want us. I want everything."
"So do I. But we both know that everything is impossible for us. We're going to have to settle for what we can get."
"I'm not the kind of man who settles, Jane. You know that."
I do, but I can't imagine where he's going with this. I've done the research, and no state in America allows adopted siblings to marry. And most states--including our home state of New York--consider our sexual relationship to be criminal incest.
For that matter, I couldn't find any countries that would allow us to be together. I found a vague reference on the Internet that suggested that adopted siblings could marry in Sweden, but I haven't been able to confirm it.
And, honestly? I don't want to move to Scandinavia.
"Dad's going to be at Stark's office tomorrow," he says. "I'm going to talk to him about rescinding my adoption."
My eyes go wide. "Can you do that?"
"I've been doing research. It's not common, but there is precedent. But Dad will have to be on board."
"Dallas, I don't think he'll--"
He presses a fingertip to my mouth. "Don't say it. Tonight, just believe it will happen. Okay?"
I nod. "It's just that--"
But this time he silences me with a kiss, and when he closes his mouth over mine I forget what I was even going to say, and just lose myself in this man I love.
Dallas let himself drown in the heat of her perfect mouth that he had loved forever, that was more essential than oxygen to him.
She opened to him eagerly, as if she could never have enough of him, no matter how deep the kiss, how violent the connection. He understood. He craved her with an intensity like nothing he'd ever known, and though he couldn't remember a moment when he hadn't felt that way about her, the blinding, tunnel-vision-like need for her had only increased over time, until now she was an addiction. Hell, she was blood, oxygen, a goddamned life force.
Jane was everything. She filled his days and sweetened his nights. She lightened his heart and satisfied his soul.
And the way she sucked his cock was one hell of a mark in the plus column.
He chuckled at the thought, and she broke their kiss, her brow lifted. "Something you want to share with the class there, mister?"
"Kissing you just made me think about all the things you can do with that mouth of yours."
She didn't answer, but he caught the mischievous gleam that fired in her eyes before she shifted her position on the lounge chair so that she could kneel beside him. Then she lifted the hem of her tiny little dress just enough to hook her fingers under the band of her panties and tug them down to her knees before she shifted again and pulled them all the way off.
Aiming a sultry smile his way, she let them dangle from her fingertip before she tossed them aside.
"All right," he said. "You have my attention."
Her laughter bubbled through him, filling him with pleasure. It seemed as though it had been forever since he'd heard such spontaneous joy from her.
"You just reminded me of all the amazing things that you can do with your mouth."
"Is that right?" he said.
"Mmm." It wasn't much of an answer, but if he hadn't already understood what she had in mind, he would have figured it out when she swung her leg over his waist and straddled him so that her back was facing him. "I'm pretty fond of your fingers, too. Just saying."
She bent forward so that she could lower his fly, lifting her ass as she did so that he had one hell of an enticing view of the back of her dress clinging to the curve of her rear. He reached forward, cupping her ass cheeks and then slowly lifting the skirt to reveal the smooth white skin of her ass and the sweet, wet flower of her cunt.
"Christ, Jane," he said, arching up in wild pleasure as she eased his cock from his jeans, then took the head into her mouth. He thrust his hips up, wanting her to take him deeper, wanting to feel his cock slam against the back of her throat even as his fingers slid deep, deep into all her secret places.
"That's it, baby," he said as she wiggled in response to the two fingers he slid inside her. "Suck my cock while I fuck you. Deeper, baby," he demanded, thrusting his fingers inside her as she obeyed and sucked him so hard it was a wonder he didn't explode right then.
But no, not yet, and he forced the explosion back, his whole body tense with the effort to halt this erotic assault on his senses. The feel of her mouth on his cock. The sight of her cunt and her ass, open and ready for him. The scent of her arousal, sweet and sensual. He was primed to explode, but he couldn't. Not yet. Not until he'd taken her to the edge. And certainly not until he settled her sex on his mouth and sucked her clit with at least as much passion as she was sucking his cock.
First, though, he wanted to tease her. He wanted her dripping. He wanted the slightest brush against her clit to send her spiraling. He wanted her crazed.
He wanted her to lose herself to him.
Slowly, he teased her core with the tip of his thumb, then stroked her sensitive perineum. She rocked her hips, silently begging for more, and spread her thighs wider, opening herself to him even more. He doubted she even knew what she was doing, positioning herself to be taken by him while she sucked him. Exposing herself like this. Intentionally making herself so goddamn vulnerable that it brought him to his knees knowing how open she was to him, how much she trusted him.
He wanted to give her every kind of pleasure he could, and he gently pressed his sex-slick finger against her ass, edging along the rim, urging her to relax and open to him. With his other hand he reached around her, then found her clit and stroked. Gently at first, and then faster as she bucked and moaned, and he slid his finger in deeper and deeper.
Every time she shuddered in pleasure, the assault on his cock changed, interrupting the steady, building pressure, and leaving him frustrated and on edge until finally he couldn't take it any longer and he pulled his hands free, grabbed her hips, and moved her toward him so that her pussy was on his mouth and he was tasting her sweet juices and, holy fuck, he could not get enough of her.
And he sucked and licked as she ground against his mouth, her lips still teasing his cock as his own hips move
d in a wild, steady rhythm, as if he was the one in charge--the one fucking her mouth--instead of vice versa. Because at the moment, he was totally and completely under her spell.
His entire body was tense, sensitive. As if his body was too big for his skin and he needed to break free. And dammit, Jane was the only one who could take him there. And her mouth was working a magic on his cock that he was trying to duplicate. A steady rhythm. A pattern. And damned if it wasn't a pattern that led him right over the edge, because her mouth was magic, and she was sucking him, the wet sounds of her lips on his cock filling his head, making him even harder.
So hard that he was going to explode--and he forced it back, wanting to feel her rock against his face, her own release in time with his. He pulled her closer, sucking hard as he did, taking all of the frenzy that was ripping through him and putting it back to her, kissing and sucking and teasing until he could feel the vibrations of her moans of pleasure against the tip of his cock, and that was it. That was what tossed him over.
"Jane," he cried as he exploded, his orgasm rocking through him even as Jane shattered above him, her mouth still on his cock, as she sucked him dry.
When they could both breathe normally again, he pulled her up to him, and they stretched out together on the lounge beneath stars.
"I love you," she said.
"Oh, baby. I know." Gently, he stroked her pink cheeks and swollen lips and thought she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. She was his, dammit, and Dallas was willing to move the world to make that simple reality a stone-cold fact.
Unfortunately, in order to move the world, he first had to move his father.
The next morning, Dallas stood in the reception area of Damien Stark's penthouse office. He'd arrived early, and he was using the extra time to catch up with Liam as to the progress with Colin.
"It's slow going," Liam said. "Drugs aren't working on him. But Quince is good at what he does, and he'll get what we need. It's just not going to be fast, or easy."
"Fine. Well, no, it's not fine," he corrected himself, "but it is what it is." He shifted so that his back was even more to the petite receptionist, then lowered his voice. "How the fuck did I miss the signs? How did I look straight at that man for so many years and not see who or what he was?"
"You saw what he showed you," Liam said. "You saw what he wanted. Hell, I did, too."
"He's had training," Dallas said. "It takes a certain skill set to withstand Quince's interrogation. And still I never picked up on it."
"There were a lot of years when he was off your radar," Liam pointed out.
"And a lot when he wasn't."
"Don't beat yourself up about it. The man's good. Hell, he's a fucking chameleon. We saw what he showed us. Not the monster underneath. That's the thing about monsters, Dallas. They don't just hide under children's beds and in dark closets. They hide right in front of us. That's what makes them so damn scary."
Dallas ended the call when the receptionist called his name to get his attention. He turned and found her standing. "They're ready for you."
He nodded, then took a deep breath as he started down the hall behind her. Time to go see a different kind of monster.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Eli Sykes demanded, staring at his son who was striding into the conference room.
Dallas stood a little taller, the motion designed to hide his disappointment. He hadn't actually expected a warm welcome from his father, but some small part of him had been holding on to hope.
He should have known better.
"I have a meeting today with Damien. He mentioned that you were coming to the office this morning to go over the San Diego and Culver City retail sites. I asked if I could have a few minutes." He glanced at Damien, who was rising from his chair across from Eli. "I appreciate you letting me intercede on your time."
"Well I don't," Eli said. "Damien, your schedule may be flexible, but I assure you mine isn't. I have no time to spare for foolishness, sentimentality or, god forbid, begging."
"I understand completely," Damien said as he walked to the door. "As it happens, I've had an emergency come up that's going to keep me away for the next twenty minutes. You're welcome to spend that time however you see fit. As is Dallas." He nodded between the two of them. "I'll see you both later."
When the door closed behind him, Dallas took the seat that Damien had just vacated. "I have a proposition I want to put on the table."
"This is absurd," Eli said, pushing back and starting to rise.
"Listen to me." Dallas's words sliced like a hot knife through the tension between them, and for a moment, Eli froze and father and son simply stared at each other.
Then the spell seemed to break, and Eli shook himself and rose to his full height, his brow furrowed and his eyes blazing. "Listen to you?" he repeated. "Listen? To what? To you telling the world that you're sleeping with your sister? That you've made a mockery of our family? Is that what I'm supposed to listen to, Dallas?"
A thousand retorts filled Dallas's head, but none seemed sufficient to counter his father's vitriol, and he stood there, numb against the pain of his father's verbal lashing.
"You just couldn't keep it in your goddamn pants. Maybe I can understand when you were children--the trauma, the fear--but to continue this, this farce. To intentionally embarrass this family by behaving that way with your sister. Your sister. Well, I cannot--"
"Then don't."
The words came out so hard, so hot, that Eli actually shut his mouth and took a step backward.
"You can't stand the fact that Jane and I are siblings? Then fix it. End it."
Eli's jaw tightened and his face turned a deep purple. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Rescind my adoption."
"What?"
"Make it go away," Dallas pressed.
"You're talking nonsense." Eli shook his head slowly, as if Dallas wasn't making a bit of sense. But he was. Just like he'd told Jane, he was certain this was the way. Hell, it was the only way.
"It's not nonsense," he continued, trying to keep his voice calm. Rational. His dad was a businessman after all, so Dallas needed to approach this as if it were a deal. An offer on the table for a move that might be risky, but in the end could make all their stock go up. "We'd need to file a petition in the same court that entered the adoption order, and we'd both need to consent along with Mom, but if--"
"And pile on even more embarrassment? Make us even more of a laughingstock? Drag this family even deeper through the mud than you already have?"
With each word, Dallas felt his temper flare even as he seemed to sink farther and farther into himself.
"Absolutely not," Eli said finally. "Out of the question."
"Dammit, Dad, this isn't about public relations. It's about your children. About our lives. Let us be free to love each other."
"I've already answered that question."
"You're punishing me--punishing us--because we fell in love."
Eli cocked his head and looked straight at Dallas, nailing him with the no-nonsense glare he used so often in the boardroom. "No, son. I'm punishing you because you acted on it."
I'm driving to the studio where Joel keeps his production office when Dallas calls to tell me that all did not go well with our father. And though I can't help but be disappointed, I am not surprised. Rescinding the adoption would be the perfect solution for us, but for Eli Sykes, it would be admitting he'd made a bad decision.
And while my father is more than willing to change course when it comes to business, he's not so swift to own up to mistakes where his personal life is concerned.
I tell Dallas as much, and he reluctantly agrees, though there's no denying the disappointment that colors his voice.
I'm disappointed, too, of course, but I think I'm less surprised. I know Dallas believed that faced with the choice of being selfish or helping his children, Eli would come out on our side. But it's only been a day since I walked into my birth father's cell.
A man who did the most heinous thing possible to his child, and for purely selfish reasons. So nothing much shocks me anymore.
"Do you want me to cancel my meeting? I can go back home and we can do whatever it takes to make you feel better. Whatever it takes," I repeat, purposefully injecting a lascivious tone into my voice.
As I'd hoped, he laughs. "That sounds wonderful, but you need to see Joel. Besides, one of us needs to have a meeting today that doesn't go south."
"Does that mean things with Damien went badly, too?"
"No, no. Everything is fine on that front. In fact we're thinking about flying out to Riverside to look at the actual production facility. They have a working prototype that I'm anxious to see. But that will put me home late. I hate to miss our dinner."
"Don't be silly." He'd suggested we go out tonight, but it's not as though the LA restaurants are going away any time soon. "We can have the champagne and caviar on the back patio, then maybe watch a romantic movie, and then who knows where the night will lead..."
"I like that plan," he says. "I'll call when I'm getting close. Your day is going okay?"
"So far, it's perfect. Don't jinx me."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he says. "I love you," he says, and I'm amazed at how much depth and emotion can fill three little words.
I'm still smiling when I hand the security guard my ID and he lifts the gate to let me onto the lot. Joel's office is in the back, behind a section of false-front houses that represent a neighborhood I've seen on some television sitcom, but damned if I can remember which one.
I park, square my shoulders, and head inside.
Despite Dallas's prediction that my meeting will go better than his, I'm not holding my breath. On the contrary, I'm prepared for Joel to be overly conciliatory and Lyle to be full of excuses. I don't expect either one of them to actually call me a pariah, but I'm certain that's what they'll both be thinking. And I'll have to smile and nod and pretend like I'm doing just great despite the fact that this amazing career opportunity is crashing down around my ears because the press has decided to get all up in my personal life.