Set In Stone

by Dakota Willink

  “You’re crazy, do you know that?” I teased.

  His hips never stopped moving as he returned to a standing position.

  “Not crazy. Just in love with the shape of you,” he sang, mimicking the song lyrics. I threw my head back and laughed as he took hold of my hips again.

  Feeling emboldened by his actions, I reached between us and splayed my palm against the fly of his designer jeans. I felt him tremble before he pulled my hand away.

  Gripping the back of my neck, he pulled my ear to his lips.

  “I’m going to punish you for that, Miss Cole.”

  “Is that a promise?” I provoked. He groaned, the vibration against my ear followed by hot and heavy breaths.

  “You really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

  I laughed and looked around to see where Allyson and Matteo had gone. They were still dancing, Matteo flinging Allyson’s petite body around effortlessly. Matteo, like Alexander, had some pretty good dance moves as well.

  The music began to fade out, transitioning into another track. I was panting and sweating from exertion.

  “Why don’t we go sit and have another drink,” Alexander suggested. He too was sweating, his hair falling in damp waves over his brow.

  “That sounds like a good idea,” I agreed.

  When we got back to the table, our server was there at the ready to pour us another round. While I was out dancing with Allyson, Alexander and Matteo must have added to our bottle collection. The Scotch and the Dom Pérignon was now joined by another brand of whiskey and a couple bottles of white wine. I eyed up the people who stood waiting in line for their drinks at the bar. I didn’t envy them in the least.

  I could get used to this bottle service thing.

  Leaning back against Alexander, I took a sip of the chilled wine, feeling like a spoiled princess.

  “We should go dancing more often,” Alexander said as he trailed a finger up and down my arm. “Just do me a favor. Don’t wear such a short skirt next time.”

  I rolled my eyes and ignored his comment.

  “Yeah, we should do this again soon. It’s a good time.”

  I pushed away the thought of what might be coming and the possibility that we wouldn’t be able to do this again anytime soon. I didn’t want to think about it. Not tonight.

  “Oh, and another thing. Leather,” he added.

  I craned my neck up to look at him.

  “Leather?” I asked in confusion.

  He cupped my cheek and leaned in to kiss me. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, coaxing them open. Our tongues danced together for a brief moment before he pulled away.

  “Yes, no more leather in public. It’s too hard to keep my hands off you when you wear it.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. But you will be wearing it more often for me. And only me. What color bra are you wearing?” he asked, his voice taking on a guttural sound.

  I shivered.

  “Black lace. Strapless.”

  He hissed out a breath.

  “Fucking leather and lace. When we get home, I want you kneeling. Bra and skirt. No panties.”

  My insides burned, his command an inferno that ripped through my body, settling at the apex of my thighs.

  When I spoke, I said the words he always wanted to hear, but they were ones I often felt awkward saying. However, I couldn’t think of a more appropriate and natural response to his current demand.

  “Yes, sir,” I whispered.

  28

  krystina

  “You’re beautiful.”

  My eyes fluttered open to the sound of Alexander’s words. He said them so softly, I thought I was dreaming. In a daze, I rubbed my eyes and squinted from the light of the early morning sunrise that flooded through the window. Giving in to a good body stretch, my eyes slowly came into focus and settled on a bare-chested Alexander. He was standing next to the bed looking down at me, his jeans unbuttoned and hanging loosely around his hips. His hair was damp from a recent shower.

  “Morning,” I said with a sleepy smile. “What time is it?”

  He climbed on top of me, pinning me to the mattress, his hard and lean body spreading across the length of me. My nose filled with the heady scent of fresh water and body wash.

  “It’s almost seven-thirty,” he told me as he brushed a few wisps of hair from my face.

  I extended my arms over my head and stretched again, my body deliciously sore after the events of last night. And it wasn’t from the dancing. Alexander had been on fire last night, coming at me hard and fast the minute he saw me kneeling in the bedroom. I didn’t get to sleep until well after two in the morning, only to be woken up again at four-thirty for a round of slow and sleepy sex.

  “I suppose I should get up and shower,” I mused, not wanting to leave the comfort of the warm blankets or the weight of Alexander’s body.

  “Probably,” he murmured, before leaning in to trail a line of kisses over my jaw. His tongue moved in slow circles down my throat.

  He slid a hand down my arm, taking the sheet with him as he went, and uncovered my naked breasts. Using just a fingertip, he traced down the center of my breastbone and over the jut of my hip, before slowly moving back up to circle a nipple. He leaned in and captured it in his mouth, his hot and wet tongue doing a slow dance around the peak. I arched my chest against him and gave a soft sigh.

  “You could join me in the shower,” I breathed.

  He groaned and shifted to the other breast, before moving back up my neck to claim my mouth.

  “As enticing as that sounds, I don’t want to be late. Hale is expecting me at nine. However, if you want to stay here, naked in our bed, I can promise you that I’ll hurry back.”

  I wanted to surrender and be the slave that he made me, to stay naked in bed and wait for his return. But I knew I should be there for Hale. Moving my hands up, I rested my palms on either side of Alexander’s handsome face. When I spoke, I tried to keep the regret from showing in my voice.

  “I should go with you. The bed will still be here after we’re through helping him with his mother. And, when we are done, we have all day,” I added.

  He took my wrists and pinned them to either side of my head.

  “I could make you stay here.”

  As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I knew he could.

  “But you won’t.”

  “You’re right, angel. I won’t,” he chuckled and released my wrists. Leaning back to sit on his heels, the corner of his mouth lifted cheekily. “But I will hold you to the promise of being in bed all day. I plan on fucking you all the way through the night and into tomorrow.”

  I grinned.

  “I may not put up a fight,” I said with a suggestive wink.

  Swinging his leg over me to get off the bed, he dragged me up to join him. He circled my waist and pulled my naked body against his. His hands reached around to cup my cheeks, drawing me tighter to him, as he leaned down to press his lips to my ear.

  “Go shower and I’ll get your caffeine brewing before you start jonsing for a fix,” he teased before giving my rump a light smack. I sighed at the mention of coffee and used it as motivation to quickly shower and dress.

  After throwing on a pair of jeans and a black top, I pulled my hair back into a loose ponytail and followed the aroma of freshly brewed Columbian beans into the kitchen. Alexander stood at the breakfast bar with a toasted bagel and a glass of orange juice. He pointed to the table where a steaming mug of coffee and a buttered bagel were set out for me.

  “Eat,” he ordered.

  He didn’t have to say it twice. My stomach was rumbling before I even came into the kitchen.

  Once I downed two cups of coffee and we polished off our bagels, we were in the Tesla by eight-thirty and headed toward Brooklyn.

  The Saturday morning traffic was light and we made good time. When we pulled into the parking garage, Alexander took the ticket from the machine a
t the gate and tossed it on the dash. After we pulled into the first available spot, he picked up the ticket and studied it. A curious expression was on his face.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I found a parking receipt on the floor at Justine’s place the other day. I had nearly forgotten about it until I saw this. I’m pretty sure the parking receipt I found matches this one.”

  “Perhaps she was here visiting Hale’s mother?”

  “I doubt it. Justine hates nursing homes. It would be out of character for her to be here, but I don’t know why else she would be in Brooklyn,” he murmured and shook his head. “I’ll ask Hale about it after we get his mother settled.”

  Alexander looked worried, but I didn’t pry as we made our way out of the parking garage. Once we got to the street, we hurried across to the other side. The cold New York winter winds whipped at the nape of my neck. I was wearing a warm coat, but was wishing that I had added a scarf. I shivered, feeling more than ready for the weather to break. I missed the smell of spring and the feel of the summer heat.

  When we reached the entrance to the nursing facility, we had to be buzzed in. Once the door unlocked, Alexander placed his hand on the small of my back and led me into the main lobby. The lobby held several cream and blue cushioned high back chairs. The tabletops were filled with vases of fresh flowers, giving the atmosphere a homey sort of feel. A few residents moved about, talking with one another in hushed voices, almost as if they didn’t want to disturb the quiet serenity of the home.

  Hale strode across the lobby to meet us when he saw us come in. As he approached, I noticed how visibly tired he looked. His normally strong and alert demeanor looked deflated, almost as if he hadn’t slept in days.

  “How is she today?” Alexander asked Hale as we walked down the hallway toward Hale’s mother’s room.

  “She’s good actually. Her mind seems a bit clearer ever since I got her back here. I think being back in her familiar surrounding helps.”

  When we walked into the room, Hale’s mother was sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the room. The creak of the wood floor was audible under the chair as she rocked back and forth. An afghan covered her lap and she was holding a picture frame in her hand.

  “Mother, look who came to see you,” Hale said.

  She looked up at Hale’s words and scanned us. She stared at us with indifference, almost as if she didn’t see us, her gray eyes covered with a heavy fog.

  “Mrs. Fulton, it’s nice to see you,” Alexander said.

  She looked down at the picture in her lap and fingered the frame of the picture nervously.

  “What picture do you have there, mother? Can I see it?” Hale asked and slid the picture from her hands. Looking up at Alexander, he said, “It’s a picture of her and your grandmother. She always liked this one.”

  Hale set the picture down on the end table, next to a row of several other framed photos. I walked over to take a look at them while Hale and Alexander conversed about the care Mrs. Fulton would need in the coming weeks.

  Hale’s mother was beautiful in her youth, her eyes bright even in the old black and white photos. There was a picture from her wedding day and another with people that I assumed to be friends and family. My eyes rested on a colored photo of a younger Hale. The colors in the picture were faded, typical of technology for that time period. If I had to guess, Hale was probably in his early twenties when the photo was taken. He was in uniform and two children flanked either side of him. I leaned down to take a closer look. I smiled when I realized who the children were. There was no mistaking those intense blue eyes and nearly black hair. It was Alexander and Justine.

  “Krystina,” Alexander said. I stood and turned to face him. “I’m going down to the nurse’s station to see if I can speak to the head nurse. Will you be okay staying here to keep Hale and his mother company?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  When Alexander left, Hale walked over and picked up the picture I had just been looking at.

  “They were so young,” he said. “They both look like their mother, except Mr. Stone inherited some of his father’s harder features.”

  “That’s a great shot. I didn’t realize your history with Alexander went so far back.”

  “My mother was best friends with his grandmother. After my father died, our families became very close. Mr. Stonewall stepped up and was like a father figure to me.”

  He seemed sad and I wasn’t sure why. I wondered about their relationship and how it evolved. Hale always addressed Alexander so formally. I found it odd considering the family background.

  “Hale, why do you address Alex as sir, or as Mr. Stone?” I asked, genuinely curious. He set the picture down afforded me a small smile.

  “Because he expects it. Mr. Stone is very much like his grandfather in that regard.”

  “I wish I had the chance to know him. Alex speaks fondly of his grandparents. They seem like people I would like.”

  A loud tapping sound had Hale and I both turning in the direction of his mother. She had picked up the picture frame that Hale just replaced and was tapping her finger hard against the glass. She was quite obviously agitated, mumbling words that I couldn’t understand.

  “Mother, what’s wrong?” Hale asked and rushed to her side. She continued to tap the picture. “The picture? Yes, I see the picture.”

  She shook her head, seeming to get more and more upset by the second. Her finger tapped harder and her hands shook. She kept repeating something, but I couldn’t make it out.

  “What is she trying to say?” I asked, unsure if there was anything I could do to help calm her. Hale didn’t respond, but continued to address his mother.

  “Mother, please don’t be upset,” he told her and took the picture from her hands before she could break it.

  “Til em. Til em,” Mrs. Fulton kept repeating.

  Tiller? Until then? To them?

  I couldn’t figure it out, but it appeared as if Hale could.

  “I know what you are trying to say. Don’t worry. I will tell him,” Hale soothed her.

  She stopped the furious fidgeting and seemed to calm down somewhat. She resumed her rocking, her eyes taking on the vacant expression once more. It was completely heartbreaking. Her confusion and panic, disappearing into a blank nothingness, was such a sad sight to see.

  “Tell him? Is that what she was trying to say?”

  He bent to adjust the blanket around her, speaking to me in a low voice as he did so.

  “She does this from time to time when she recalls a memory. When she can’t find the words, she becomes agitated. It doesn’t usually last long before her disease fogs her mind again and she calms down.”

  “You seem to have a way with her, which I’m sure helps. At the very least, you seemed to understand what she was trying to say.”

  “Yes, I did know what she was saying.” He stood to his full height and turned to look at me. His normally emotionless eyes looked pained as he met my gaze. “Miss Cole, I have to tell Mr. Stone something today. It’s something that my mother wanted me to tell him for a very long time. It won’t be easy for him to hear.”

  My brow furrowed in confusion.

  “What do you mean?”

  He glanced down at the picture of himself with Alexander and Justine.

  “I’ve protected them for as long as I can remember. But, I might not be able to anymore.” He paused and took on a faraway look. After a moment, he continued. “I told you once before that he needs you. He’ll be needing you now more than ever.”

  29

  alexander

  When I returned to Mrs. Fulton’s room, I found Hale and Krystina staring oddly at one another. Krystina looked concerned, yet confused. Hale on the other hand, looked uncharacteristically troubled.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. Hale looked at me with a pained expression. It was rather alarming. “Is it your mother?”

  I looked past him and saw she was sitting peacefully i
n her chair, just as she was when I left the room.

  “Mr. Stone, I need you and Miss Cole to come with me.”

  I stared at him in confusion.

  “Hale, tell me now. What is going on?”

  “Just please, follow me.”

  He walked out of the room, leaving Krystina and I little choice but to follow him. I was somewhat taken aback. Hale never ignored a direct question from me. I looked to Krystina.

  “What happened when I was gone?” I asked her quietly as we walked.

  “I don’t know. Hale’s mother had some kind of a panic episode. He calmed her down and then told me that he had to tell you something. I don’t know what though, because you came back right after he said it.”

  “Something isn’t right,” I murmured, more to myself than her.

  Hale came to a stop in front of a closed door. It appeared to lead to a room for another resident.

  “She’s sleeping, so please keep your voice down,” Hale told us.

  “Who’s sleeping? For the second time, what the fuck is going on?” I asked, now feeling indisputably pissed off over the unexplained secrecy.

  He didn’t answer, but turned the knob and pushed the door open. A sinking feeling began to form in my gut, yet I didn’t know why. I only knew that I had never once seen Hale behave the way that he was.

  I stepped into the room and was momentarily stunned by who I saw. Justine sat in a chair in front of a bed. I saw the outline of a person under the bedsheets, someone that I could only assume to be a patient. However, I could care less about who it was, as I was too shocked to see my sister.

  “Justine! Where the hell have you been?”

  She held a finger to her lips to quiet me and motioned to the person in the bed.

  “I…I’ve been here,” she said softly.

  “Here? In a goddamn nursing home?” I shook my head in confusion. “Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?”