“That’s it?”
“Yeah.” He nodded and went back to undressing her. The sleeves were falling off her shoulders, so he yanked them off.
“You say it’s fine, but I can see in your eyes it’s really not.”
“What do you want me to say? That I adore kids? Yeah—okay, I fucking do. I love ‘em, and you’d be an amazing mom, but I can’t stand hearing you beat yourself up and making yourself crazy over it. I already knew of your fertility issues before, so this wasn’t news to me tonight. I love you no matter what, and this doesn’t change anything for me. You realize even if you had those shots, you might not’ve gotten pregnant? Pono did anabolic steroids in college. I told him not to do it, but I couldn’t stop him. So odds are his sperm count was low or maybe non-existent.”
Her lashes shook as her eyes actually squinted and trembled. “What?”
“Yeah—steroids, and lots of them.”
“But then . . .” She gripped his wrists for support, and her head fell. “Could that be why he had that heart attack? It wasn’t completely my fault for overfeeding him and enabling him? He had a heart condition he didn’t know about, and he was taking steroids possibly for a few years?”
“Two years I know about,” he answered.
“Not my fault,” she said, sounding stunned—her voice far off and distant.
He grabbed her hips, then pushed his own hips into her. “No. Not your fault. None of it was. That’s what I’ve been telling you.”
Her head lifted. She gaped, and her eyes glazed when she looked at him. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Let’s go lie down. The kitchen can wait ‘til morning. You’ve cleaned most of it anyhow.” He pulled her into the bedroom, undressed her the rest of the way and set her on the bed, naked.
“Why don’t you tell me what you liked and didn’t like about dinner tonight?” If he distracted her for a moment, then he could get in bed with her and they could hash out her feelings for as long as it took, but first he wanted to be in bed with her, naked, too, so she could have skin-to-skin contact.
He undressed as fast as he could, then joined her.
She collapsed into his side with an exhausted sigh.
“Did Pono’s family know? Can you answer me that first? Did they know about the steroids?” she asked, stroking his chest with slow passes.
“Yeah. They knew.” He grimaced for a second. “I’m not sure if it’s what caused the heart condition or if it already existed. I’m not sure if they know either.”
“So, they covered stuff up, too. They lied to me, and I should’ve known he’d been doing that shit when he met me. But no one told me.”
He sighed and tipped her chin up with his index finger knuckle. “They probably should’ve, yes, but I knew it as well, and I didn’t tell you. Pono was ashamed of it, and honestly, I thought he’d told you before he ever married you. He stopped using them not too long after he met you.”
“Well, they probably were aware I didn’t know. They should’ve told me.” She exhaled with a shaky sob.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I know how hard this is to find out this way.” He kissed the top of her head and pulled her in for a tight hug.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said, muffled by his chest.
“Anything for you, my sweet little thing.”
He felt her lips curl into a smile against his chest. “I missed hearing you call me that.”
“It hasn’t been long, but I missed saying it, too,” he agreed, planting a few more kisses on her forehead. He made a humming, grunting sound and then relaxed his hold on her.
“Okay, so what I liked least about dinner tonight?” She was looking up into his eyes, and her eyes glazed a little. “I think you know—being outed about my fertility issues. I wish I would’ve talked to you about it sooner. That seems to be a repeating theme with me—waiting too long to speak to the people I love about sensitive topics and then having someone else tell them for me in a way that’s less than flattering.”
“You think I made you look bad by telling his family we were together?” He rubbed his stomach—it was bunching up on him. Was she going to flip out again and want to leave?
His instincts were to literally chain her to the bed, but he waited and listened, hoping he was maybe misunderstanding.
“No, not really. I did feel that way tonight with Jay, but he’s so young, he doesn’t get that tact can go a long way.” She blinked, and her chest rose as she sighed with a heavy, burdened sound. “I guess I wish I could stop being a coward.”
“You know what I’m going to say about that as well, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I suppose I do. You’ll say I’m brave.” She slapped her palm softly on his chest. He grabbed it and then settled his palm over the back of her hand.
“Because you are.”
“Compared to what? You always speak your mind, and I couldn’t even ask Toloa what she wanted me to do in her freaking garden when I was there most of the day. Why? Why does my mouth close when my mind’s in overdrive? No one else seems to struggle with that but me.”
He chuckled. “That’s not true. There are some submissives who feel like that from time to time. So when they don’t ask for sex or much of anything else, it’s not necessarily because it’s being imposed on them, but more so because it feels wrong to do it. They get their needs met by their Dom because he finds out what she’s thinking and decides if what she wants is good for her or not.”
She smiled softly with a small sigh emanating out of her and her shoulders sagging.
“What did you like about tonight?” He waited, holding his breath so he could gauge her body language and sounds.
“It’s going to sound stupid,” she started.
“Try me. Nothing you say is ever stupid.” He caressed the back of her hand she’d set on him. He loved the feel of this kind of intimacy with her—the softness of her skin, that sweet breath of hers washing over his chest.
“Well, this one is.” She exhaled with a frustrated sigh. Her fingers twitched under his hand. “I used to hate it when Pono would grope me in public, and especially at his parents’ house. He’d do it when no one was looking, of course.”
His stomach dropped. Shit. “Why didn’t you tell me that? I grope you all the time in public.”
She chuckled. “No, no . . .” She lifted her head and stared him in the eye. “It’s not the same at all when you do it.” Her tongue poked out and moistened the crease at the left corner. “When he did it, he was messing around, being a dork. I never liked how it felt like I was the butt of his joke.”
“How did you respond when he did that?” He stroked up her hand to her wrist, drawing lazy circles and zigzags.
“I usually laughed and shoved him off me while I was scowling.”
“You didn’t think that was sending mixed signals?”
“I didn’t know what else to do.” She lifted her left shoulder. “I didn’t want to be mean and hurt his feelings, but I never enjoyed it when he did that. It was degrading somehow, like he didn’t respect me. When you grab me”—her eyes went heavy—“I know it’s because you can’t keep your hands off me. Because you want me more than anything, not because you’re acting like a pre-pubescent boy who laughs when he hears the words wiener or boobies.”
Mark smiled. “I really like your boobies. Tell me you like my wiener, or I might need to show you mine without you ever showing me yours.”
She giggled. “Uh . . . You’re already naked, Sir.” She paused and gave him a sobering look. “Honestly, though . . . does any of this even make sense? He didn’t mean to bother me. He was having some fun.”
“Potty humor and adolescent groping is anything but sexy, especially when it’s done at your expense. I can understand completely why you hated that.”
She sighed and then collapsed back into his chest. “Thank you. I was always swamped with guilt for feeling that way afterward.”
“There’s nothing to feel guilty about. He
was always playing jokes and teasing, but that’s something he should’ve checked on with you before doing. Women can be sensitive about those types of things. They don’t want to feel like they’re a piece of meat to be exploited and flung around, then made fun of.”
“I only like being your piece of meat you bite and growl at. That’s always fun.”
He gripped her wrist and held it tight. “Good to know. And I like my meat to be bound to something while I lick, taste and eat it.”
“God, Maaark,” she groaned. “How do you make everything sound so sinful and exactly what I want?”
“It’s a gift.” He smirked. “But I’ll tell you . . . I wasn’t into potty humor even as a twelve-year-old, hon. I was too busy pulling pigtails and tying those girls to a tree.”
“But only if they wanted it, right?” She was smiling. He could feel her cheek rounding on his chest.
“Of course. I wasn’t that bratty.” He laughed. “Nah, you know I wasn’t that way. I had friends that were girls. I enjoyed talking to them and finding out what they were interested in. I figured if I could get in their head a little bit, it would be less work down the line if I could get them to be interested in me. It’s the mental game that’s harder to master, and that’s always been a challenge to me, but I loved it.”
“I do, too,” she murmured and kissed his chest. “The best part tonight for me was kissing your cheek and just having you at my side—it all felt so comfortable, and I felt at home. At peace.”
“Thank you for telling me all this.” He went back to caressing her wrist, her arm and then her neck. “In your head—that’s where I always want to be. And not in the way that pisses you off because I’m treating you like you’re a joke. You’re never a joke to me. You’re my life’s breath, the reason I want to be the best man and Dom possible. It’s all because of you.”
She went silent.
“Love you,” she said a few minutes later.
“I love you, too, and I’ll always take care of you.” He closed his eyes, and a blanket of peacefulness settled in the air, making him breathe so easy, he fell asleep in no time.
Yes, finding peace with her was easy.
* * *
Something had shifted between them. After the dinner with the Finaus, she was settling in.
Her things from her room were all located in his, she said she’d only shower in his bathroom from now on and she seemed comfortable all the time.
“Today’s the day for Jeanie J,” he teased.
“J?”
“Yeah—it rhymes. I heard that once somewhere,” he said, pulling his tie around his upturned collar.
“Oh my God!” She covered her mouth and giggled. “You heard that on the Simpsons. Jay used to watch that show all the time, and I remember Homer saying once—‘Today’s the day for Homer J.’ It was the space launch one.” Her eyes were still laughing hysterically at him.
“Okay, so maybe I used to watch the Simpsons, too.” He smirked at her. “Get over here and show me how well you can manage my tie.”
She smirked right back, and within moments, she’d tied a perfect Half Windsor knot.
He tugged at it a little while staring in the mirror. “Fucking perfect, like everything you do.” He turned to her with a lopsided grin. “My perfectly sweet little thing.”
His eyes roamed over her.
She wore her pretty, casual white summer dress with a small navy flower pattern across the skirt she’d worn to lunch at the Finau home the day after the funeral. The one that made his erection about a mile long—she was so innocent and sexy as hell in this dress. It was nice enough and entirely appropriate for Sunday worship, too, and it was the only dress she had with her other than her black funeral mourning dress. She looked sweet and completely fucking tempting.
Should be an interesting day of worship all around . . .
“Remind me again why your mom wants to meet me?”
“Because . . .” he fixed her hair once more since he’d gotten carried away a few moments ago with kissing her until she was breathless “. . . she loves me, she loves church, and she wants to imagine me being married. So my telling her about a woman I’m seeing is huge, and she naturally thinks of watching you walk down the aisle toward me.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s a tad presumptuous, isn’t it?” She set her right hand on her hip, jutting out. “For all she knows, I could be a hideous person with the worst manners ever. How does she know I’m not some gold-digging whore?”
He laughed and walked over to her, bending over and helping her put her heels on. “For one—she already asked me that exact question, and I told her how you barely let me pay for groceries without having a conniption, and two—she knew Kapono. She’d met him before you guys married. And she figures any woman that was with him can’t be completely evil.”
“Only a little evil.” Jeanie smiled at him when he looked up at her. “You’re on your knees. I think I kind of like that.”
“Little one, I’m on my knees constantly, eating you out. So you see me down here all the time.”
“Yeah, but this time you’re dressing me, rather than undressing.” She wobbled for a second when he gripped her behind the knees.
“I dress you every now and then, but it’s just so damn depressing, I can’t stand the thought of covering up all this gorgeousness.” He kissed her lower belly through her dress and ran his hands up her thighs, under her skirt, heading toward her panties.
“Are you going to stay down there all day, standing up your mother? She’d really love me at that point when you have to explain you were late because you were eating me out for the second time today.”
He sucked in his lower lip. “Good point. Okay, fine. I’ll save that for after services. I’ll need to do something bad so I don’t feel too clean. Can’t take too much purity. It sickens me.”
She laughed, stroked his jaw and avoided touching his hair. “I know the feeling.”
“Do you?” He stood up, looming over her and gave her a tiny peck on her forehead. “Stop being so damn delicious, and then we can be out in public more often. As it is, you give me little reason to want to leave the house for anything other than work.”
She rubbed her lips together like she was coating them more thoroughly with her lipstick. “You rarely talk about work, but when you do, you get this look about you like you can’t wait to go back. Tell me about it.”
He took her hand. “Later—temptress. We have somewhere to be.”
The next moment, he was taking her out to the car and helping her in.
She fidgeted some in the car, her nervousness apparent. So, he talked a little bit about work to get her mind off things, but failed to talk about the children. He mostly mentioned dealing with surly camera crew and backstage assistants with attitudes the size of the Rocky Mountains.
When they arrived at the church building, she was more at ease.
“Anything I need to know so I don’t offend her?” she asked before they escaped the confines of the car.
“Don’t mention whips and chains?”
“Yeah, thanks, Sir. That’s very helpful.” She stared out the front window and ducked down so she could look up at the massive, peaked roof. “I think I’ve already figured that part out for myself.”
“I’m sure you did.” He got out of the car, went to her side and helped her out, then locked up. Once the door was closed, he had her hand in his and he smiled. “Nothing to worry about. She’s like any other mother. Likes to guilt her son into doing what she thinks is right. Most of the time it works.”
“Mama’s boy, huh?”
“I think the proof is in my being here at church.”
She laughed and moved alongside without too much hesitation.
They stepped inside the bright building. There were massive windows that let in a lot of natural light.
She caught her breath a few times.
Clearly, Jeanie loved big open spaces with natural, light-colored wooden floo
rs and soft palettes.
He’d have to remember that for the future when they were making a house together.
Her heels clipped along as they entered the chapel.
The pews were half-full, and as usual, his mother sat in the second row, center.
Jesus, couldn’t she break tradition for this one occasion?
Jeanie would most likely be more comfortable if they weren’t being showered by the pastor’s spittle. It was probably why his mother wore a hat—protection from free-flying spit.
He pointed, leaned into Jeanie and said, “That’s my mom right there.”
“The one with the dark hair and the fancy hat?”
“Yeah.” He smiled. Oh, she was already wondering why his mother was so proper, wearing a hat. Should he share his theory?
Well, she’d find out soon enough.
They shuffled into the aisle for her pew, and once they were at her side, Mark introduced Jeanie, “Mother, this is Jeanie Finau. Jeanie, this is my mother.”
“Call me Mrs. Pierce.” She wore a tight grin that resembled a constipated, uncomfortable, snappish woman.
Her eyes hardened as she inspected his girl.
“Thank you for inviting me to come here,” Jeanie said, her voice filled with hope.
“I invited you because Mark needs to remember that God comes first, not women. He has so many different women in and out of his life, they never stick around long enough for me to meet or approve of any of them,” his mom said, jerking her head away from Jeanie as she continued to study her.
“God always comes first, and your son is an excellent example of that. He’s shared some of his spiritual joys with me. It’s been a pleasure to discuss his ideals.” Jeanie went a little rigid, and her speech was morphing from casual into formal.
Yep, his mother did that to everyone. She cut her eyes back to him. “And what could those spiritual joys possibly be?”
“Oh, there are too many to name.” Jeanie moved past Mark and sat next to his bristling mother. She leaned toward her, holding onto the edge of the padded bench and looking her in the eye. “I’ve always wanted to be a more devoted Christian woman, but until now, I didn’t really have anyone else interested to join me. And knowing and caring about God is always more enjoyable when you can share it with a friend or someone you love. Don’t you agree?”
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