Hers To Keep: THE QUINTESSENCE COLLECTION I

by Akeroyd, Serena

  Sean was always so calm, so rational. When he’d pushed his tongue into her mouth, stroked hers with his, she’d not hide from the fact it had made her heart skip a beat.

  “I know I’m yours,” she told him softly, submissively. Because she did. She was his. Theirs.

  He stared her square in the eye again, not stopping until she ducked her chin in admission. Then, he squeezed her in his hold, kissed her temple, and murmured, “Good.”

  Forty-Two

  “I need you to visit more, Dad,” Sascha murmured as she hugged her father tight.

  All around them, Heathrow was a manic welter of people as they waved their loved ones goodbye or peered hopelessly up at screens trying to find their flights.

  The hubbub was almost deafening after the peace of the Kensington house, which only confirmed she was definitely adjusting to a quieter, more peaceful existence. Months ago, the chaos of Heathrow would have stirred her blood. Now? It made her cringe and wish she was back home.

  “I know, Sascha,” he murmured against her cheek, his arms still around her as he held her in a prolonged hug. “I’ll visit more.”

  “Are you really thinking about moving here?” she asked, hope lacing her tone as she pulled back to look up at him.

  She’d reconnected with her father during his stay here. It was ironic that learning he wasn’t her biological dad had brought them closer, but then, how could it not?

  He’d made the choice to protect her, to love her... even though she wasn’t his. That was a choice that she could only be grateful for.

  “I’m thinking about it,” he admitted. “I might put the house up for sale. See what it brings.” He nudged her. “Think you can put up with your old man living nearby?”

  Her smile was genuine. “I’d love it.”

  “Not that I’d be able to afford fancy digs like your men’s place.” He whistled. “I’ve got used to the swanky life, I’ll not lie.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “The money’s there if you need it.”

  He cocked a brow. “Thought you weren’t going to use it.”

  “I won’t. Unless it’s for something I need.” She shrugged. “I need you close.”

  His head tilted to the side. His salt-and-pepper hair, shorn pretty close to his head, glinted in the dull overhead light. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  She wiggled her shoulders. “Nothing. You already know the worst of it, dad. Five guys...”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Do we have to have a birds and the bees’ kind of conversation?”

  Sascha snickered, loving how he tried to sound tough but his cheeks were pink with mortification. “I’m on the pill, dad.”

  Yeah, that had really worked for her. Not that he needed to know that. Yet.

  “Good.”

  “Plus, it’s way too early for me to be thinking of something like that. We’ve only been together less than a year.” May God have mercy on her for lying.

  Henry squinted at her. “If you’d been together longer, would you?”

  “Have a kid with them?”

  She nodded, deciding to be honest. “I would. I know it’s nuts, but yeah. They make me happy, Dad.”

  He grunted. “What else can I ask for, I suppose?”

  “Aside from not to be a granddad just yet?”

  A snort was her answer.

  “Please. I’m too young.”

  She giggled. “You’re never too young.” Popping up on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. “Please, don’t leave it a long time before you visit again. I-I don’t want to go back. I’m happy here.”

  “Why? Why do you never visit?”

  There was a sadness in his eyes that cut her. “I can’t explain it. This place just feels like home. And it has nothing to do with them. I felt like it before.”

  “I guess that’s the Brit in you coming out to play.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe it is. I’m just comfortable here.”

  “I don’t understand it, but I can accept it. Plus, it’s easier for me to travel than it is for you. I know you have a lot on your hands. Keeping that kid, Devon, in line has to be worse than a toddler with gripe.” He grunted. “How you stand him is beyond me.”

  “I have four guys to help me,” she teased. “He’s pretty freakin’ awesome and makes me laugh harder than a stand-up comedian most days.”

  Henry shook his head, obviously perplexed by the notion. “I’ve heard you giggling at the shit he spews. I don’t get it.”

  She winked. “You don’t have to.”

  He sighed. “True.” Squeezing her, he murmured, “I’d better go.”

  “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you, too, pumpkin.” He kissed her temple. “I’ll call more. I promise.”

  “I’ll make sure you do.”

  As he pulled away, staring deep into her eyes once more before he stepped back, she felt tears prick her own. Waving at him as he backed up, staring at her still until he turned around and headed toward his check-in gate, she felt the burn and had to lift a shaky hand to rub the tears away.

  A hand came down to settle on her shoulder, and she turned into Sean’s warm embrace. He’d said he’d wait in the car, but she was grateful he hadn’t. She burrowed into his arms, loving how right it felt to be there. How secure and at home it was to be tucked in his embrace.

  “You okay, love?” he asked, kissing her temple as her father had just done moments ago.

  It was strange how the same gesture could mean something completely different.

  Her lips curved and a thought popped into her head, one planted by her father. “I’ll be fine,” she answered, then, peering up at him, she asked, “If I wanted to get married, how would we do that?”

  Whatever he’d expected her to say, it wasn’t that. For a second, she had the sheer and utter joy of seeing Sean Hayward completely and utterly speechless. Laughter pealed from her at the sight, and she danced out of his arms, content to let him hover in a field of confusion as she grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the airport.

  It was only when she was back in the car that he seemed to find his equilibrium.

  “Take the next turn on the left,” he said after a few moments of silence. Hell, if she’d known asking that question was a way to have some peace and quiet, she’d have asked before.

  She shot him a look. “That will take us into the city.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “We going somewhere?”

  “Yup.”

  She snorted. “You gonna make me guess our end destination?”

  “I’m taking you shopping for clothes.”

  She stilled. “Why would you do a silly thing like that?”

  “Andrei’s gala has been rescheduled.”

  “I thought you’d already bought me a dress for that.”

  “We have. But you can use that another time. I want to feel you up in a changing room. Like you promised all those weeks ago.”

  “If I had free hands, I’d be playing my air violins right about now,” she teased, prompting him to chuckle.

  “I deserve it. It’s a hard life I lead,” he told her mournfully, laughing when she giggled.

  “So, you don’t want to buy a new dress, just take advantage of the facilities?”

  His hand came to rest on her knee. “Don’t you?”

  Sascha had to purse her lips to hide a smile. “Maybe.”

  “What can I do to persuade you?”

  “I’m sure you have ways and means.”

  “More than several, I promise you.”

  “Good,” she purred. “Now, which way are we heading?”

  As they drove into Mayfair and the more select boutiques within that area, Sascha sensed in a way how full circle they’d come. The night before she and Sean had gone shopping, that fateful day when she’d been hit by a car and this whole rigmarole had started up, she’d slept with Andrei for the first time.

  All those months ago, she’d have been nervous at the idea of shopping i
n Mayfair. Of the amounts of money being spent on a simple dress. Now?

  She wasn’t exactly spoiled, but she was used to the way the guys lived. If they wanted something, they got it. If they needed something, they bought it. But, otherwise, they saved.

  They had a budget which she managed, and she didn’t take advantage of the wealth she had at her fingertips. She didn’t exactly coupon cut, but there was no need to pass down a BOGO offer if it was smacking her in the face.

  In a way, that budget was her version of normalcy.

  In a household with five enormous incomes, it would be easy to lose herself to the wealth, and she had no intention of doing that.

  Ever.

  “What are you thinking about? I know it’s not sex. You’ve tensed up, and not in a good way.”

  She smirked as she took the left lane and headed toward Mayfair’s heart. “I was thinking about how a few months ago, shopping in Mayfair would have scared me.”

  He nodded. “I know. Back when we went shopping that first time, I figured I’d start you off in Regent’s Street then head over this way. I don’t think you’d have liked so much money being spent on something you figured you’d only wear the once.”

  “You read me right.”

  “Why doesn’t that come as a surprise?”

  “Maybe because it’s your job to read people?”

  He clicked his fingers. “Yeah. There is that. Although, you’re harder to read than most.”

  Her lips twitched, but she recognized that of them all, Sean was the one who spoke least about his work.

  She and Kurt could have Kaffee und Kuchen at eleven, the German version of brunch with lots of coffee and even more cake, and could discuss his book, his plot, and where he was taking his Pulitzer prize winning series.

  Andrei wouldn’t necessarily bore her with the details of his position, but he’d tell her which companies were doing well and if he’d made a loss or a win that day. Same went with Devon and Sawyer. She knew they’d been working on P vs NP, and had solved it. She’d even googled it to figure what the fuck it was they’d actually solved, and even with the help of Google, she could barely understand it.

  She just knew they were in for a big payday when their work was verified by whoever did that kind of thing, some kind of math body she figured with a board of staff who all wore tweed and had thick heavy frames shielding their eyes from the world.

  Although, that wasn’t fair. Devon and Sawyer were hunks and they were mathematicians.

  Math, with them, could be sexy too. So, while they did explain the basics, and told her what they were working on, Sean rarely did.

  A couple of weeks back, he’d broken down when another victim was snatched on a case he was consulting on. She didn’t know what had put the shadows in her man’s eyes but she wanted to bring light to his world.

  The thought urged her to say, “Sean?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know I’m here for you, don’t you?”

  He stilled. “Of course.”

  “No. I mean… like with work? Stuff like that?”

  “Ah.” His hand had been a hot and heavy presence on her thigh since early on in their journey, but now he squeezed it. “I know where you’re coming from. Thank you, sweetheart.”

  She bit her lip. “I really mean it. If you ever need to talk…”

  “I don’t want to put this on you, Sascha. The stuff I deal with, mostly, are things I don’t want any of you to see.”

  “But you deal with it.”

  “Yeah, I do, and I wish I didn’t have to. I wish I didn’t have the knack of being able to see flaws in a crazy man’s MO. But I do. So I use it.” He squeezed her knee again. “You’re here for me, Sascha. In ways you don’t even realize.”

  Her brow puckered. “What do you mean?”

  “You bring peace to my world, love.” He shrugged. “I can only imagine how trite that sounds, but it’s true. You do it for all of us. When you’re around, it’s like what Devon told me once—you cancel out the noise from the rest of the world.”

  Her eyes widened. “Is that a good thing?”

  “For five men who avoid the world but still get caught up in it? Yeah, that’s a good thing. Hell, it’s a great thing.” His smile was rueful. “Not only that, you make me happy.”

  “I couldn’t have recently. Not only have I been moping, but I had that concussion and everything…”

  He shook his head. “Life gets in the way. It always does, and you had reason to mope, love. I wouldn’t say you were being self-piteous. You were just coming to terms with a whole new truth. A truth that sucks. The only consolation for me is the fact your parents loved you. That’s a huge deal.”

  “I wish I could talk to my mom, you know? Ask her why she agreed to do what she did.”

  “It probably started off with money, love. Your biological father was a wealthy man, and he’d have paid her well to get you out of the country. Then, she fell for you, and loved you as her own.” He smiled. “That makes my heart happy to know.”

  Touched because she could hear his genuine earnestness, she rested her hand on his knee after she parked in a small lot.

  “Thank you, Sean.”

  “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “I do.” She let out a breath. “I only brought this up because I wanted you to know I’m here for you. You don’t talk to any of us about your work, and that can’t be good for you.”

  “I do,” he countered, surprising her. “Kurt knows a lot but he doesn’t say much. Why do you think he’s usually always in my office when I’m there?” He jerked a shoulder. “We bounce ideas of one another.”

  She blinked. “I’d never have guessed that.”

  He snorted. “I can see from your surprise you didn’t. Still, you don’t have to worry about the burden. Kurt shares it. Andrei too if he’s not busy working on something.” He squeezed her knee. “We’re a family. That’s what we do.”

  “I know. I should have realized—”

  “Hey, why do you sound embarrassed?”

  She bit her lip. “I’ve only been a part of your lives for a short time. I shouldn’t have made out like you were incomplete without me, you know?”

  His laughter was joyous; so, even though it kind of hurt he was laughing, the sound was so inoffensive, she just had to stare at him in confusion.

  “Sweetheart, we were incomplete without you.” The gentle sweetness to his words had her blushing.

  “I love you, Sean.”

  He smiled. “I love you too, Sascha.”

  Then, because things were suddenly feeling pretty heavy and that hadn’t been her intention at all, she murmured, “Want to go fuck in a dressing room?”

  His eyes lit up. “That sounds like a hell of a lot of fun.”

  Forty-Three

  The End or is it?

  Laughter spilled from her lips as Andrei tugged her out of the hotel.

  They were at the Ritz. The old-world grandeur, even hours later, still had the power to stun her.

  Its Art Deco charm and elegance reminded her of Maggie Smith in Downton Abbey. It was like, when you stepped into its hallowed walls, you were transported back to a time when London was more than just Europe’s banking center, but the center of the Empire.

  “Why are we rushing?” she asked, gasping a little as Andrei pulled her along behind him.

  With the doormen having lifted their hat to her, she knew they’d be watching them as they rushed ahead—the last thing she needed was a witness to her falling on her ass in these heels.

  Heels, Sean had picked for her, and ones she’d dug into his ass as he fucked her against a cubicle mirror.

  Cheeks heating at the memory, she tugged Andrei’s hand. “Andrei! I can’t run in these shoes!”

  He paused, jerked them to a halt. She laughed when he pushed her against the wall and put his mouth on hers. His hands came up to cup her face, and she felt her hair tumble out of its gravity-defying topknot and fall between hi
s fingers.

  She liked this position. Liked being shoved up against walls as their cocks burrowed into her stomach, their hips pinning her in place.

  When Sean had dragged her into the changing room only four days before, she’d mewled with disappointment when he’d expected her to ride him as he sat on the chair within the cubicle.

  Because the dressing rooms in the stores he took her to, were as unlike anything found in a regular department store as margarine was to butter.

  The space had been as large as her bathroom. With a fancy cheval mirror at all the corners of the room so she could see the different angles of the dress.

  She wasn’t sure why there was an armchair in there, unless the assistants were used to men coming in and fucking their women in them…

  Who knew, maybe that was standard practice in posh retail?

  She smoothed her hands along Andrei’s tuxedo-covered spine and dug her fingers into his ass as thoughts of what she’d done with Sean riled her up.

  “Is this why you dragged me out of there?” she demanded a second later when he let her up for air.

  Her lips were bruised from his rough passion, but she loved it. Loved it when they all let loose and didn’t worry about her sensitivity. They just unleashed themselves on her.

  When Sean had pushed her against the wall, her face against it, she’d loved having him behind her, her back and his chest almost glued together as he fumbled to penetrate her.

  He’d been deep at that angle. Had fucked her with short, blunt thrusts that had her eyes clenching tightly shut and nails digging into his hands which, once he was fucking her, he bridged with hers and pinned them to the wall beside her shoulders.

  She’d loved the crass words that had spilled from his lips. Had loved the feel of him inside her as he claimed her, roughly.

  Because that’s how it felt. Each and every time. Like they were claiming her. Individually and as a group. And she fucking loved it.