At some point, he hugged her even closer, never breaking rhythm, whispering endearments and words of desire directly into her ear, until she came in slow, overwhelming waves, gasping his name against his cheek. His climax followed close behind hers, holding her tight to him while he strained against her.
He was crushing her, but she didn’t care. She wrapped a leg around his and revelled in his weight pushing her even deeper into the mattress.
Eventually, Tristan rolled to his side of the bed and lay facing her. “Not exactly kinky, is it?” He whispered wryly.
Judith reached for his hand and pulled it to her lips for a kiss. She twined her fingers with his. “That was perfect,” she said. “I like kink; doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate vanilla.”
“So you’ll want more of… last night?”
“Yes, it was wonderful.” She frowned. “Did you like it? I wouldn’t want to make you feel any less…”
“No, I’m fine,” Tristan said. “I have to admit, this morning’s love-making did reassure me a little; we can still have normal sex.”
“You mean, ‘I still love you’, and ‘I’m still attracted to you’,” she said. The guilty expression on his face confirmed her guess. “I love you, Tristan Bennett. You have nothing to feel either jealous or insecure about.”
Tristan’s eyes closed and he let out a long breath.
“Will you be okay?” Judith asked. “With Michael sleeping with us?”
He hesitated, but smiled. “I’ll be okay,” he said. “I meant what I said; I want you to be happy.”
“I love you,” she said.
He pulled her into another embrace, and Judith rested against his chest until the smell of bacon wafted up from the kitchen.
Tristan pulled away. “Time to be good guests, and go say good morning to our host.”
~*~
A sharp rap at his office door had Michael looking up from his computer. His mind wasn’t with this spreadsheet anyway, but rather with his two new subs and his plans for the weekend.
Gabriel stood in the portal, leaning his shoulder against the door frame, one hand casually stuffed in his suit pocket. He held the plastic packet that dangled from one finger up for inspection. “I come bearing lunch.”
Michael cleared some space on his desk, sweeping corporate swag from pharmaceutical suppliers aside with his forearm, and Gabriel unpacked the food on the wooden table top. “I hope you feel like sushi,” Gabriel said, taking out a covered plastic tray the size of a lunchbox and passing it to Michael. The different rolls of sticky rice, fish and vegetables wrapped in nori were arranged attractively under the transparent plastic lid, and a pair of disposable bamboo chopsticks was taped to the lid of the container.
“What’s her name?” Michael pulled the chopsticks from their paper wrapper and snapped the two sticks apart.
“Can a man not feel like visiting his big brother?” Gabriel asked innocently, peeling the foil lid from a sealed pod of soy sauce.
“Of course,” Michael said slowly, “but you normally don’t. Normally, you bring me lunch, and then when I have my mouth full, you ambush me into saying yes to a blind date.”
“Not always,” Gabriel protested.
“Often enough that the exception proves the rule,” Michael said.
“I’ll wait until you’ve swallowed this time,” Gabriel smirked.
Michael stared at him for a beat, then chuckled. “You’ll never change,” Michael picked up a little roll coated in sesame seeds with his chopsticks and dipped it in soy before he bit into it.
“The world would end if I changed,” Gabriel agreed. He sobered. “We miss you. Will you come to dinner on Wednesday if I promise not to set you up? Caroline has been asking after you, and Ariel said she’ll only come if you do.”
“It’s because you give her grief about her lifestyle, and she wants me there as a buffer,” Michael said mildly.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea that my little sister likes to beat up men.” Gabriel muttered.
“Or that those men think it’s hot,” Michael supplied mildly. “Or having sex at all.”
“Please don’t remind me.”
They chatted about nothing of consequence for several minutes, enjoying the company and good food, until Michael noticed Gabriel shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Gabriel popped his used chopsticks and empty soy pod in his empty lunch container and snapped the lid back on. “So…” Gabriel said, picking up a highlighter pen shaped like a syringe, and uncapped it to examine the tip.
“So…” Michael parroted. “I’m not interested in another blind date.”
“You’ll never find someone special if you lock yourself away in your monastery day in and day out. You need to get out more. Meet women.”
“I meet plenty of women,” Michael said mildly.
Gabriel’s jaw clenched. “I meant women who don’t like to get spanked.”
Michael put his chopsticks down in his container that still contained a few pieces, and his shoulders tensed. He looked away. The same old argument. Gabriel would never accept the BDSM lifestyle, even if Michael hadn’t actively practiced it in years. And he’d nearly had a melt-down when Michael had come out to him as bi-sexual.
That argument had caused an estrangement that had lasted for two years, and had only ended because of Michael’s nearly fatal motorcycle accident. Somehow, little things like kinks and sexual identity had seemed inconsequential to Gabriel, when faced with possible death.
Gabriel still wasn’t comfortable with the subject. He seemed to choose the ostrich approach; if he didn’t bring it up, he could pretend that he’d convinced Michael that he was really vanilla and straight. Michael, for his part, chose not to restart the argument, to the point where they’d adopted a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. It hurt that his brother didn’t accept him the way he was; it hurt more not to have him in his life at all, and it seemed that Gabriel felt the same way.
Ariel, on the other hand, had adopted the opposite approach. She chose to taunt Gabriel with her lifestyle choices; she’d once told Michael that if he’d just join her crusade, between the two of them they might convince Gabriel that he was kinkier than he thought. Ariel argued that beneath Gabriel’s straight-laced, vanilla exterior, lay a hardcore Dom just crying to get out.
“I’m sorry,” Gabriel said softly. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“You think it,” Michael said sadly. “Do you seriously think I’d abuse a woman? I’m not Dad.”
“I don’t think you’re Dad,” Gabriel gritted out. “I just can’t see why…”
“You can’t see why I can’t just be ‘normal’.” Michael finished for him. Gabriel couldn’t meet his eyes, and Michael could see the misery on his face.
“I’ve met someone,” Michael blurted out. Gabriel’s eyes snapped to Michael’s, and Michael regretted his outburst.
“Do I know her?” Gabriel asked.
Shit – that’s the other can of worms.
“I doubt it,” Michael hedged. “Her name is Judith.
“Well, why don’t you bring her to dinner on Wednesday? We’d all love to meet her.”
“No!” Michael snapped. I can’t very well bring another man’s wife to a family dinner and present her as my date. At Gabriel’s expression, he softened his tone. “It’s too soon; we’ve only just met.”
Mollified, Gabriel leaned forward excitedly. “Don’t worry – we’ll go easy on her.”
“You’d give her the third degree, and have the colour scheme and guest list to the wedding finalized before dessert,” Michael snorted.
“Alright, we’ll give you a few days,” Gabriel said.
“Weeks.”
“Alright, two weeks,” Gabriel amended. “What? ‘Two’ is plural.”
“Are you this technical in court?” Michael groused.
“You bet,” Gabriel grinned. His expression softened. “I wouldn’t worry about this one.”
“What?�
� Michael asked, picking up his chopsticks and popping another sushi roll in his mouth.
“Judith. I think she’s going to be The One. I can tell by your expression when you talk about her; she’s different.”
Michael’s heart clenched. She can’t be The One; she already has a husband.
~*~
Tristan gripped the photocopy box lid full of test scripts under his arm, and turned to lock his classroom door. The slam of the door echoed hollowly through the empty, darkened corridors of the school, and suppressing a curse, he pulled extra-hard on the door and jiggled the key just right to engage the lock.
It had been a long school day, followed by athletics practice for the team that was competing in the interschool meet in three weeks’ time, and he was almost half-way home before he realized that he’d forgotten the scripts he needed to mark in his classroom. It hadn’t been his idea to schedule a test for a Friday, but with recent school activities getting in the way, and the test marks he needed to capture by Tuesday, he’d had no other choice.
On a Friday, when he’d wanted to concentrate on their weekend with Michael; now he’d be spending it marking.
He walked through the empty corridors, the only light coming from the gloaming outside, and once he got to the front door of the school, he activated the alarm using his PIN code and locked the door behind him. It was dark enough that he needed to use his cell phone as a flashlight just to find the correct key.
His was the only vehicle in the parking lot. He unlocked the car, tossed the box of scripts and phone on the passenger seat, and after starting the car, he left the school grounds with a sigh of relief. He still had several hours’ work ahead of him that evening, but he looked forward to doing it in the comfort of his own couch, a cool beer beside him, and his stockinged feet propped up on the coffee table, rather than at his desk in his classroom.
He’d just turned onto the short stretch of freeway that led to his subdivision, when he saw a pale, wraith-like figure ambling along the shoulder of the freeway. She was a distance ahead, and when he neared, he recognized the school athletics uniform, white with blue and green tartan trim. Platinum blonde hair wisped behind her shoulders as she walked, and her suitcase dragged behind her on wheels.
He pulled over just ahead of her and idled. He rolled down his window when she stopped beside his door.
“Hi, Mr B!” Edie said.
“You can’t walk around alone this late at night, especially on the freeway,” Tristan scolded her. “Anything could happen to you.”
“I know,” Edie said. “But I missed my lift.”
Tristan sighed. “Get in; I’ll take you home.”
“Really?” Her face lit up.
“Yeah, hop in.”
She rushed around the front of the car and Tristan leaned over to unlock the passenger door for her, then put the scripts and his phone on the back seat. She snaked her arm in through the open door to unlock the back door, put her suitcase on the back seat, then slid into the passenger seat. Tristan checked his mirrors so that he could merge with traffic.
“Thank you so much for the lift, Mr B.”
“You’re welcome,” Tristan said, but then realized something. “Did you miss your lift because you helped to pack away the equipment after practice?”
“It’s nothing,” she said quickly. “I wanted to help.”
“Edie, no,” he groaned. “I don’t want you to miss a ride because you stay behind to help me. It really isn’t safe for a young woman to walk alone at this time of night. Every day, new notices are published of young women who are kidnapped, murdered, or worse. I don’t want you to become a statistic. You got that?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
Tristan saw from the corner of his eye that she’d cast her eyes downward and was looking up at him from under her lashes while she picked at the hem of her athletic vest. He shifted uncomfortably. “So where am I going?” He asked to break the silence.
“Oh, you can take the off-ramp at Kendal Road,” she said. Step by step, she directed Tristan to an upper-middle class neighbourhood, and he idled at the curb while she climbed out and retrieved her suitcase. She bent down to look at him through the open door. “Thanks so much for the lift, Mr B,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” Tristan said. “And in future, you hurry up and meet your lift!”
“Yes, sir,” she smiled. “See you tomorrow.”
She slammed the door and skipped up the path. Ever the gentleman, he waited to see her enter her house safely, but the front door opened and a middle-aged woman with the same platinum hair and blue eyes, wearing designer slacks and blouse, watched as Edie approached the house. The woman he presumed to be her mother stared curiously at the car, so Tristan waved, put the Mazda in gear, and pulled away.
~*~
Chapter 10
Judith heard the automated garage door whining open and swallowed the last of her tea. She did a last-minute check to see that the windows were securely closed for the weekend, the hot water cylinder was off at the DB board, and cast an eye over their bags that were stacked on the couch, ready to go to Tristan’s car.
She was about to go out and see what was taking Tristan so long, when the front door opened and he entered, carrying the lid of a photocopy paper box, filled with scripts.
“What’s that?” Judith stared at the box full of scripts with disappointment.
“This, my dear wife, is what is also known as ‘a disappointment’.” He slapped the box down on the coffee table and sighed. “I tried my best to finish these at work, but between interruptions from students and colleagues, a terribly timed bomb drill, and Hennessey’s idea of a cultural event in the hall that was compulsory to attend during my free period, I still have all of these tests left to mark.” He looked up at Judith. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart – it looks like I won’t be going this weekend.”
Judith tried to swallow her disappointment. “I can’t go without you,” she whispered. “It doesn’t feel right.”
“I just can’t,” Tristan looked away, his jaw ticking. “These tests have to be marked this weekend; the deadline for capturing these marks on the server is this Tuesday morning, and I’ll have to do that in between teaching classes. As it is, it looks like I might even be working late on Monday just capturing these.”
Judith pulled her phone out of her handbag, and dialled Michael’s number. While it rang, she tapped on the speaker icon, and the sound of the ringing phone filtered from the device.
“Judith,” Michael’s voice came over her phone. “Are you phoning to say you’re on your way?”
“Actually…” Judith trailed off with a wince.
“Actually, we’re phoning to say we can’t make it,” Tristan said, stepping closer to the phone. “I’m so sorry – I have a shit-load of work to do this weekend, for a Tuesday deadline. I won’t be very good company this weekend.”
There were several moments of silence on the phone. “Michael?” Judith asked nervously. “Are you still there?”
“All you had to do was say you don’t want to go through with this,” Michael said coldly. “You don’t have to make excuses.”
“It’s not an excuse!” Judith cried. “You should see the stack of papers he walked in with; we’re not making this up. Coming to you is all we could talk about this whole week.”
Michael was silent again for a few moments. “What’s preventing you from bringing your work with you?”
“Apart from good manners?” Tristan asked. “Nothing. I’m just not used to visiting someone, and then ignoring them in their own home while I work.”
“Then it’s settled,” Michael said. “Bring your work with you. You can work in my study.”
“Are you sure?” Tristan asked. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“I’m sure,” Michael said, and Judith could practically hear the evil grin in his voice. “And in between, we can plan some stress release sessions in my basement; you have an appointment with my belt.”<
br />
“God, yes,” Tristan groaned. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed your belt.”
There was silence over the line. “Hurry over, then,” Michael said gruffly. “Dinner will be done any minute.”
~*~
This time, Michael had left the front door standing open. The intercom chimed, telling him that Judith and Tristan had arrived, and he pulled the enamel casserole dish with roast chicken pieces and vegetables out of the oven. He transferred the food to a serving platter, then putting the casserole dish directly on the stove plate, he added gravy powder and hot water to make gravy from the drippings.
“That smells divine,” Judith said from the doorway. She had a bag over her shoulder and approached to give him a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek. “What can I do to help?”
Tristan stood at the entrance to the kitchen, another bag hanging over his shoulder by the strap, a laptop case dangling from one hand, and a box full of papers in the other.
He wasn’t kidding when he said he had work to do, Michael thought with relief. “You can have the same room as last time,” Michael said stirring the gravy with a whisk so that it didn’t burn. “Go get settled while I finish up dinner, and then I’ll go get Tristan set up in my study after we eat.”
“Got it,” Judith said, giving him another peck, this one on the lips, and headed out the kitchen. Tristan followed.
Michael poured the gravy into a small jug and carried the dishes to the dining room table, and he was just putting on some Gregorian chants when his guests came downstairs.
“This really does smell divine,” Judith said. “I nearly cried when Tristan said he’d have to work this weekend.”
“Believe me, working this weekend wasn’t my idea,” Tristan grumbled. “But it’s what happens when external forces keep rearranging my schedule. Add to that athletics practice this evening, the scripts I forgot in my classroom, and the detour I had to make, and I’m not in the best mood.”
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