by Riley Murphy
He eased his grip in her hair. His fists opening as he gently massaged her scalp while she continued to suck on him. Only now it was more for her than him. He got that.
Wrapping his hand around her chin, he lifted her mouth off him. When she looked up at him her eyes were dark, dreamy. “Gold star for you,” he whispered.
She licked her lips and took a steadying breath. She was fucking hornier than shit. Just to make sure he was right, he curled down and slipped his fingers between her legs. “You’re soaked. Did you come?”
She shook her head.
“Well, we can’t have that when you did such a fine job, can we?” He didn’t hesitate. He plunged two fingers right into her. She gasped and leaned against him. Wrapping her hands around his biceps as he found her G-spot and stroked it. Over and over, while she shook and panted until her inner muscles twitched. God, she was wet.
“That’s right. Open up for me. Let me,” he pushed in deeper and sighed, “up in here. Does that feel good?”
“Yes…oh God, don’t stop,” she gasped and ground herself on his hand, “please…”
“This is what you need,” he told her. Taking hold of her clit with his other hand, he pinched the hood hard. Rolling the delicate nerves between forefinger and thumb until he felt the contraction. Until he heard that telling breath catch. Then he increased pressure. Increased tempo as he pumped his fingers into her.
“Yes, yeeees, oh God. Oh God! I love this, Master.”
He caught her as she came completely undone in his arms. For many moments he let her stay, clinging to his thighs. With her cheek intimately pressed against his groin and her warm breath teasing him, he felt good. No, he felt righter than he had in a long while. Soon she’d say what he wanted to hear. Soon.
“I better make that call.”
Her voice was husky. Probably from swallowing his cock. He opened his eyes and thought about what she said. Call? Oh yeah. Randal. The fact that she’d raced into the kitchen to tell him first about the stock rising and how she’d optioned it had started this little detour this morning.
He stroked her hair. “Don’t go yet. I like your warmth against me.”
She snuggled in and he smiled.
“So you made Randal a fortune?”
“Yes, he’s going to be pleased.”
“You’re pleasing a lot of men in your life lately.”
“Are you happy?”
This was more than just one sentence. There were a multitude of things buried in that innocent question. Are you happy? Do you approve of me? Have I done well? Is this working? Do we suit?
“Oh yeah. I’m happy.” He rubbed her shoulders and back. Thinking how true this was. He hadn’t been this happy in…well, forever. “I’m very happy.”
Her head came up and she kissed his forearm before she snuggled back down. And all he could think was he’d almost missed this because of one small lie…
Chapter Eighteen
Jo was fidgety. Probably because of the collar and cuffs. “Relax. You look beautiful. The gold and silver complement your outfit.”
She pulled down the visor and checked her reflection in the lighted mirror behind it. “You think so?”
He reached over and gave her knee a squeeze. “I know so. You worry too much.”
“Hm. And you don’t worry enough.”
“You’re referring to our little battle of wills?”
“More like an epic war I’m thinking.”
His hands strangled the steering wheel while he kept his voice calm and even. He wanted to downplay her defiance. If he didn’t he’d just give it more power. “You’ll eventually say the words.”
She snapped the visor up and crossed her arms over her chest. “I won’t.”
“We’ll see.” He swallowed his frustration, because for the life him, he was starting to believe her. She was the most stubborn woman he’d ever come across. But he’d outlast her. He was sure of it. He didn’t say anything until they pulled down the side street the restaurant was on. “Busy little place.” He noticed her shoot forward and frowned, “What’s the matter?”
“There are a lot of cars. Too many. I—was that a yellow Jetta?”
“I have no idea. But sit back. The seatbelt is digging into your shoulder and wrinkling your blouse.”
“But…”
“What? You look panicked. Did an old boyfriend drive one or something? I know it’s not shitface’s car. He drives a Mercedes.”
“No, one of my cousins drives a yellow Jetta.”
“Well,” he pulled his Jag into a spot and patted her knee, “I’m sure your cousin isn’t the only one in the city with bad taste.”
She was a jumble of nerves as they got to the door and he had no idea why. Surely it wasn’t just because of the metal.
“Do you see that? Why are the drapes closed? They’re never closed. Especially at night.”
“Jo.” He held the door opened and waited for her to look at him. “There’s no rule that says a restaurant has to leave its drapes open. Stop dragging your feet. Let’s go.”
They’d just walked through the front entrance and into the main dining room when Jo stopped short in front of him, and Ted had to step to the side not to bump into her. He swore under his breath, but it was drowned out by a shout.
“Josephine!”
“Surprise!”
Ted scanned the dimly lit room. The backdrop of dark wood and crushed red-velvet chairs and booths were obscured by at least fifty of the brightest, most vibrantly garbed people Ted had ever seen in one space. Yellows, blues, greens and oranges of all shades assaulted his eyes. It took him a moment to realize this was one big group. No. Not just a group. This was Jo’s family. Surprise?
“Is it your birthday?” He may have directed this to Jo, but a man came forward and leaned heavily on his cane with a smile.
“Birthday? No, no, no. It’s my daughter’s engagement party.”
Jo swayed, “No.”
“Your daughter’s…?” Ted wasn’t sure he heard correctly. He didn’t hear correctly. He couldn’t have.
Her dad nodded. “Yes, Josephine’s.”
“Success!” Anjay clapped his hands and came forward, addressing the crowd who laughed and clapped along with him. Ted heard nothing but the sound of the bastard’s voice. “I think we surprised my fiancée. Look at her,” he held up his hands motioning toward her, “she’s speechless, my Jo-Jo.”
“No…Ted, I…”
Ted ignored her. He was too busy staring at Anjay. Willing the guy to get within arm’s reach of him.
“I c-can explain.”
Anjay was smart when he came near. He took up position right next to her father, who apparently didn’t sense the tension swirling around them.
“Go ahead, Jo-Jo. Your dad is so happy right now. But if you want to explain things—”
“No!” Pauline rushed through the back entrance and stopped so fast she had to latch on to the corner of the wall for support. “I didn’t know, Jo. I swear.”
Ted wasn’t even sure Jo heard her. The crowd was still clapping and people chattered as Ted put the pieces together. And he wasn’t liking the picture those pieces made. He waited for Jo to deny it. For her to tell him that this was Anjay’s last-ditch attempt to get to her.
Stoically he watched, wanting her to swear for once, and tell Anjay to go fuck himself. That this was all a mistake. But then Jo looked at her mom, and Ted saw something pass between them. Regret? Sadness? His eyes narrowed while he gave Pauline the once-over. Was her mother worried? He didn’t have time to decide because Jo turned her attention to her father. The minute she did her features softened. Ted couldn’t blame her there. Her father was grinning like an overjoyed fool. Oblivious to his daughter’s plight.
Call Anjay out for the lying bastard he is. Do it. End this now.
Ted held his breath. His heart hammered away without a shot of renewed oxygen. He tore his gaze from Anjay’s smug face, worried if he didn’t he’d rip the
guy apart. He’d do it if she didn’t hurry up and end this. Then he saw it. The release of pent-up breath that signaled her defeat. And when her shoulders slumped, he had his answer.
This was the second time in his life the floor had been pulled out from underneath him. The first time it had been by his wife. How appropriate this second time came from a woman who was just like her.
“I’m sorry, Ted. I’m—”
“Oh Jo-Jo, I didn’t cash it. I won’t be needing it,” Anjay said. He waved something, and when Ted finally focused in on it, a black ice shrouded the small part of him that still believed in her. Killing any chance he was going to give her to explain her side of the story. Because there, in her own handwriting was a check made out to the bastard. The date? Saturday night. The night of the awards.
It was only a moment, she’d said. He was afraid I’d tell you that I’d seen him. Like hell. Anjay didn’t look too fearful now.
“I had a great time at the awards dinner and you were so sweet to offer me the gift, but your dad,” he put his arm around Jo’s father and beamed, “is going to take care of it. As an engagement gift to the both of us. For our future together.”
“Ted, I can explain.”
He held up his hand, but before he could even look at her, she was whisked away by a group of giggling women who came forward and grabbed her. They excitedly chanted something about wrapping up the princess. Princess? Even that term mocked him.
Engagement gift? The room almost spun as those words and what they meant hit him. Jo had been with this guy. Met with him long enough to have given him a gift before she’d come home to him that night. Before she’d fucked him on the stairs. Before they had their bath and…he’d…fuck, what a fool you were. Sharing your secrets. Opening up to her.
“Ted, is it?” He heard her father say. At least he thought he did. Maybe he just read his lips. Ted’s ears were buzzing like he’d been to a rock concert and stood beside the speakers all night. “Come, join us in celebrating this wonderful occasion.”
Ted didn’t remember what he gave as an excuse. He barely remembered walking out of there. It wasn’t until he was behind the wheel of his car that he could breathe. Oddly enough, it wasn’t Jo and Anjay that weighed on him like a thousand-pound weight. It was what had happened with his wife that ate him. Everything he’d fought years to forget now surged to the forefront until the pressure became too much to bear.
“No fucking way. Not again. Never again.”
Jo stumbled into the women’s restroom as six of her cousins chattered. She was too stunned to be mad. The look on Ted’s face when she didn’t deny Anjay’s claim had nearly killed her. A man like him never lost his cool or his color, and she was afraid he’d done both. The fury and, yes, hurt she’d read in his eyes worked like a slash to the heart. A heart that was now breaking over a stomach that churned and threatened to heave any moment.
“We saved the turquoise and peach for you, Jo. It’s beautiful, yes?”
“Mari. Mari, please.” Her mother clapped to get the giggling women’s attention. “Girls, I need to speak with Jo. Give us a few minutes. Mari?”
“Yes, Auntie. Come on, girls, let’s give Aunt Pauline a few minutes alone with her daughter.”
Jo was sure she nodded, but she remained staring at the sink drain and didn’t release the air in her lungs until they left.
“I’m sorry. Your dad and Anjay planned all this without my knowledge. When I came through the back and realized I—”
“Go away.”
“No. Not this time, Josephine. I saw Ted. I saw the look on his face. The fact that you were bringing him to dinner again tells me he’s important to you.”
Jo finally looked up. She wasn’t going to hide her pain any longer. “He was important, but now you’ve ruined it. Does it make you happy to see me like this? Why do you hate me?”
“Me hate you?” Her mother took two steps toward her and Jo stepped back. Her shoulder hit the hand-towel dispenser.
“Don’t pretend you don’t. You’ve hated me ever since that night, and now I know why. Anjay told me about you and Uncle Vic. How he held your affair over your head to keep you from digging. You stopped. You weren’t supposed to stop. When you did I felt like a worthless piece of shit.”
“Jo.”
Jo banged her head against the dispenser, trying to distract herself because she recognized the signs. The nose burn and throat ache. Any minute she’d be crying and she didn’t want to give her mother the satisfaction.
“Stop that.” He mother rushed forward and jerked her away from the metal box. She took hold of her by the arms and gave her a shake. “That’s what Anjay told you?”
“Yes. What, are you going to do deny it?”
“Deny being with Vic? No, I can’t deny that because…because it’s the truth.”
“You bitch.” Jo really didn’t need to wrench her arms out of her mother’s grip because her mom gasped and let go of her.
“I’m going to forget you said that and put it down to a bad moment.”
“A bad moment. That’s an understatement, don’t you think?” Jo went to step around her, but she wouldn’t let her by.
“Oh no, you’re not walking away this time. Not until we get to the truth.”
A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye, and she scraped it away. “Truth? I told you the truth. I’ve always told you the truth. You’re the one who hides behind lies and deceit. Dad’s brother? His brother, for fuck’s sake. Couldn’t you have found some stranger to screw? You know, someone who wouldn’t hang around like the proverbial skeleton in the closet, ready to pop out whenever he felt the need.”
“That’s enough.”
Jo scrubbed away another tear and glared. “I suppose you have some grand excuse as to why you chose him instead of the mailman and too, why you threw your own daughter under the bus to protect yourself afterward.”
“I have no excuse for what I did. I still don’t understand it myself. All I will say about this is that I wasn’t thinking right at the time. Your father was close to death and…and,” she let out a huge breath, “your uncle Vic was there for me. He was the strength I needed. A pillar I could lean on. It wasn’t about the sex. It never was for me. It was about the intimacy. Your father was in the ICU for eight months. Eight long months I went not knowing whether he’d live or die. I was scared and lonely, but that was still no excuse.”
Jo was dizzy. She supposed this was what happened when one’s world view shifted. Looking at her mother now she saw her as a person. An individual who struggled with life the same as everyone else. There was no superhero here. With dawning clarity Jo realized this was the first time she’d seen her mother through the eyes of the woman she’d become. For the first time free of the judgment that came from the vantage point of the angry young girl who felt betrayed. With this grown-up perspective came a softening, an easing of the edge around her heart that she’d always clung to, and Jo didn’t like it. She was afraid to speak. Scared if she did her mother might guess that her daughter was bending and be filled with hope.
“As to throwing you under the bus? I never did. I never would.”
Any softness she’d been worried about was gone. “I’m not interested. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to dad about you and Uncle Vic. I know it would kill him.”
She went to turn away but stopped when she heard her mother say, “Is he a ghost then? Because the last time I checked your father was still breathing.”
“What?”
Her mother leaned against one of the pedestal sinks and folded her arms. “I told your father what happened between your uncle and me years ago. I couldn’t live with that hanging over my head. He forgave us, but it took me a long time to realize I had to forgive myself. That’s what you need to do, Jo. Forgive yourself. Mistakes happen. You were young and drunk—”
“I wasn’t drunk. That’s what Anjay wanted you to believe. I was drugged. I know that now. A bit of vodka isn’t enough to oblit
erate a whole evening.”
Her mother slowly uncrossed her arms and stood up straight. Spying her expression, Jo was getting ready to jump aside because her mother’s face rapidly changed color. Going from pink to a pasty white as she whispered, “You’re sure?”
Jo nodded. “Positive. Why did you stop asking me? Why did you shut me out?”
Her mother was frowning and looked completely distracted when she said, “But I saw the picture.”
“Picture?”
Her mother didn’t move. “When I told Anjay I was going to your father about what happened, because drunk or not, he shouldn’t have taken advantage of you. You were young and he should have known better. That was when he showed me a picture. It was of the two of you together in a romantic… He behaved like a spurned lover. He insisted it was consensual and the only reason you called me that night was because you had a fight and—God, Jo, I was in a panic over your father at the time. Not knowing what would happen once they took him off the ventilator and then you called and I couldn’t just leave and later when I got home you changed your story. I didn’t know what to think. Who to believe, but I chose you. I did.”
“Chose me?” Jo hated. Loathed the tiny tendril of hope that unfurled inside her. Quickly she pushed it aside.
“I may have been going through a traumatic time with your dad, but I wasn’t completely oblivious to things. Even though you continued to deny it I told Anjay I still had doubts about what happened between the two of you. I told him you were too young and he should have known better. That’s when he said he was giving you some space. He agreed he’d gone too fast with you too soon. What was I to think? He was so contrite. Worried that he’d jeopardized a future with you because he’d gotten you drunk and you…” She took a deep breath. “Well, when I went after him for this, he said I was the last person to be casting any stones. That was when he told me he knew about Uncle Vic. That he’d tell you about it if I didn’t leave well enough alone and give you time to come to your senses.”