“Hmm, I see. She’s sexy as hell. And from the looks of the rope burn on her chest, she likes what you like.” Marques had always been a wordsmith, able to phrase any situation succinctly. That’s why he made an impeccable foreign and domestic negotiator. He could take a subtle nuance of word or gesture in several languages and make it to his, and by proxy, the company’s, benefit.
“She’s mine.”
“Her body told me that before you could. Most women will come on to me as if they were available, whether they are or aren’t married. Makenzie just looked closed and didn’t even really see me as anything but an object. It was almost as if she were…cataloging me, and impersonally at that. A specimen in a Petri dish.” Marques’s lip lifted, the barest of smiles.
“She is an artist.”
“So that’s why…Interesting, haven’t had an artist yet.”
“That’s the same thing Dev said.”
“Saw the Challenger in the yard, thought he was here, too.”
“Nope, it’s a loan for the weekend.”
Marques appeared just an iota pensive, but said nothing, so Charyn didn’t offer anything. Moments later, he spoke.
“Charyn, I didn’t have sex with Tami.” Marques spoke quietly, wind almost stealing the words away.
“I know.”
“How? I let you think we slept together.”
“Because if you had sex with Tami, she would have been screaming bloody murder before you got started. Certainly considering her aspirations to be a political wife. Few women enjoy the idea of being videotaped when the man in question is a fling.”
Marques loved fucking women on camera, would watch the tape afterward, and edit the scenes into movies. He had a small stable, three or four women that would come to him when asked, no matter the time or what they were doing. He and Dev joked about Marques’ “harem.” But all the women signed a release form, so he could play with his hobby unencumbered, no legal issues later. Tami would never in her life consent to be videotaped during coitus. She couldn’t without serious worries later of blackmail or worse. No politician wanted a skeleton in his wife’s closet that nasty. Only dead bodies or jail time would be worse.
“You see too much, Charyn. I only kept quiet to keep you two from marrying. If she was crazy enough to climb in my bed, what else would she do? Tami never fully satisfied your hungers in any way, shape, or form. You walked around, eyes starving, until even Mom noticed. Do you know Mom asked me if you were getting any?”
Charyn was floored. He didn’t realize his family saw the situation so clearly, a window into his intimate life. He was yet again glad he didn’t take the plunge with Tami. It would have been the worst mistake of his life.
“Why did you wait to come to me with the truth? I just got madder and madder waiting for you to say something.”
“I didn’t know what to say.” The words were simple, shocking Charyn. Marq never showed himself at a loss, always knew the right thing to say. He knew the appropriate condolences for grieving, the right tone to use with an angry business partner, the way to speak to a scared child. It was his gift.
“The truth would have been good.”
“You’re right, but I didn’t know at the time that it would take years to say it. It just got harder as time went by. When I saw your face during the video conference, I knew something was up. At one point in our lives, I wouldn’t have to ask. I’d already know what was wrong. That’s when I knew we had to talk, now. Charyn, I don’t want Tami between us anymore.”
Charyn smiled and told his brother, “I forgive you Marq, not for supposedly sleeping with Tami, but for lying to me about it for so long.”
Marq smiled back at him. When they walked inside, it was to wonderful smells of food cooking. Makenzie was pulling dough into cloverleaves arranged in a muffin pan, sprinkles of flour dotting her face, arms and shirt. She put the finished pan in the oven and set a timer on the microwave.
“Marques, are you eating with us? I’m making panko-crusted salmon, sautéed beans, mashed potatoes, and yeast rolls.”
Charyn answered before Marq could say no, “Yes, Mak, he is.”
Marques dissembled. “I really need to get back to the house.”
“No you don’t. You just got here, and I know the drive back from Charlotte was long enough. Then add the hour to get to your house.” Charyn refused to take no for an answer.
“All right, I’ll eat.”
“Good. You may want to take a nap while you’re at it. At least you can get home refreshed.”
They ate family-style, passing dishes and taking some of each until all had gotten a portion. The meal was superb, everyone opting for seconds. When they ate the last crumb of bread, Mak pulled out an apple crisp warming in the oven. When Charyn saw dessert he smiled and dug in. Marq followed suit and took out a large chunk for himself. Mak went back to the kitchen for a carafe of coffee, and when she returned only a small corner was left.
He really wanted it but knew he shouldn’t steal the last piece. Since he ate the lion’s share, Charyn shared the last bit with Makenzie, feeding her a taste here and there. The small eight-by-eight pan was clean at the end, and the coffee was down to the last gritty dregs coating the bottom of the carafe.
Charyn leaned in for a kiss. The meal was wonderful, the apple crisp better than his mother’s. He would never say it to Mom though. Marq looked ready to sleep where he sat. The face his brother made had Makenzie commenting, “He’s got the ’itis.”
“Yep. That would be about right. I’m going to make him take the downstairs bed.” Charyn snapped his fingers in Marq’s face, and his brother laughed, standing, the response dry.
“Yes, I’m going to take a nap.” Marq walked to the closest bedroom and crashed on top of the covers, still in his shoes, where he slept the rest of the day.
Charyn and Mak opted to clean up the dinner dishes and wipe down the table before returning to bed themselves. When they were done, Charyn tugged Makenzie upstairs, her hands roaming his sparsely covered body. This time they only made it to the landing. He needed her, now. Dropping the workout shorts to his ankles, he pressed her back to the wall, legs clasping his hips. He fed her tidbits of cock, slow enough that Makenzie was begging for another inch or two or all. Their mouths were fused the entire time, hands intertwined along with their bodies. When she came, Charyn couldn’t hold anything back from her. Not his seed or the way he felt about her.
“I love you, Makenzie.” She didn’t respond verbally, but her body did, as she came one last time and robbed him of whatever remnants of seed his body possessed. Charyn knew she heard him even though he whispered the avowal, as the words were spoken directly in her ear. Eventually, she would say what he needed to hear. But she was with him, and for now, it was enough.
When the aftershocks of lovemaking passed, he scooped her up, carrying her where she belonged. Right here, in his bed and in his arms. They slept the remaining hours until dusk, cuddled, as he listened to her heartbeat. Charyn woke first and, content, lay still and silent. His satisfied stirrings must have woken Makenzie, and her eyes opened just minutes after his. They went back downstairs in search of a drink to cleanse their palates from the stale taste of sleep. Charyn poured one glass of the fresh lemonade from earlier, sharing it. Not long after, Marq walked in, eyes tired, clothing rumpled.
“Y’all know she screams like a banshee, right?” Marq said, tone just a tad sarcastic. Makenzie’s face reddened, and her embarrassment was apparent.
“Yeah.” Charyn’s eyes were heated, staring a hole through her. He licked his lips, thinking that he wanted to hear her scream again. She would love it, too.
“Are y’all hungry?” Makenzie’s drawl was strong, southern. It made Charyn hard again, and he had to walk closer to the kitchen island to hide it. Lord knows if Marq saw it, he’d clown the hell out of him, right here and now.
“I was about to get on the road, but since you’re offering, what do you have in mind?”
�
��Depends on you. Is a sandwich all right?” Makenzie offered, already digging in the fridge.
“That’s fine. I need to get rolling soon, so to-go would be nice.”
“I’m not McDonald’s you know, but I’ll do it. Just this once.” Makenzie smiled at his brother, and went to work busying herself with sandwich stuffs. He took the bag with thanks before opening the front door. Charyn followed him out, walking with him to the car. When they reached the Audi, Marques hugged his brother, their first in years.
“Big brother, you are a lucky man, that’s one beautiful woman you’ve got. She cooks well, fucks like a porn star, and is nice to look at. Can’t ask for much more than that.” Marq’s tone implied if Charyn didn’t take care of her, he would.
“I know that, and she will never be in your stable.” Charyn was trying hard not be a Neanderthal, but was having a difficult time with it.
“A girl like that would be a stable by herself. Don’t need four women if you’ve got one that will do anything. Each of the harem serves a purpose, one gives excellent head, one loves anal sex, one squirts, and the other fucks like a rodeo bronc. I just call the one who fills the need present at the time. None of them has my heart, or any other part they can claim. I’m a grown man and alone. It’s not as fantastic as it seems. Most nights I spend longing and lonely. At the ripe age of thirty-two, no one cares if I’m home late or if something bad happens to me. Yes, I can fuck as I please, but it’s hollow and feels like a waste of time. I’ve never captured the one thing on video that I want to see. To show what making love looks like to the naked eye.”
“Yeah, well, you have to be in love to make love. Or so I’d assume.” Charyn never realized how much his brother had grown as a man. Too much time had been wasted, and in a less loving family their relationship could have been damaged beyond repair. He should have known or at least realized where his brother’s mind was at. They had spoken in the last years, but never anything personal, just business issues. They kept the distance to themselves, and only Dev really saw what their relationship had become. He would never make that mistake again. Marq hopped in the car, driving away as if the devil were on his heels.
Makenzie was waiting at the door for him when he came back, hugging him tight. Charyn was having none of it though. He didn’t need consolation, he had her. He hugged her back, loving the soft feel of her curves in his arms. The next best thing to being inside her. Their weekend was ending, but he knew what he wanted next. To show her what he felt for her, so she would never leave again. It would take the rest of the night, but she would be his by dawn.
Makenzie ended the embrace by touching his face and pulled back from him. “Come on, boo, I just made these sandwiches for you.” He allowed her to tug him into the backyard, plates set up at the small table. Charyn would let her distract him, but only to a point. He tugged her out of her chair into his waiting lap. He piled all the food on one plate, three sandwiches, a huge pile of chips, and one pickle. He raised an eye at that. Why was there only one pickle?
She answered the question that his brow implied. “Sorry, I was hungry and had to eat something.” Her eyes were wickedly bright as the laughter in them shone through. He laughed at that, kissing her, pickles and all. They took turns feeding each other, and when Mak couldn’t eat another bite, he laughed as she cried uncle.
Charyn smiled. Now was the time for dessert. He spread his legs wide and turned the cocoa-dusted beauty to face him. He kissed her, spicy and sweet, all at once. She touched tongues, a brief meeting. He took a palm to weighing her breast and, impatient, freed himself. His cock headed for her heat, the tunneling stroke burying him as far as their bodies would allow. But he wanted deeper and swept the plates off the table, leaning her onto the glass top. He dug as deep as he could, grinded her across the table in a slick slide, aided by the shirt at her back.
* * * *
The table was small, and Makenzie felt her head hang off the other side. Charyn lifted her hips, crouched over her, plowing her with drilling strokes. He was mining for something all right, her orgasm. Makenzie was screaming, lost in the endless peak. She felt as if she were flying high, lost in oblivion. She felt Charyn spend inside her as he opened his mouth to suck the skin at her ear. His breath was rough, the huff and puff of an athlete after a long game. She could only lie there, taking each breath as he released his, his weight crushing her. Her heart was bursting.
Soon after, Charyn stumbled to the bath with her. The wonderful sex left her legs weak and unable to hold her upright. Both of them reeked of sex, sweat, and saliva. He poured the last bottle of salts in the water, stirring lavender in the air. He took her with him, sitting in the hot water. As tired as she was from peaking, the bath made her limp muscles into wet noodles. Charyn bathed them off, no preliminaries, and Mak accepted the gesture. She was too wrung out to do anything more than be present for the bath. After they were clean, Charyn brought her to bed. They slept the remaining hours of night, dead to the world.
Monday morning, Makenzie awoke to Charyn’s kisses fluttering over her sheet-draped skin. He was clean shaven and dressed for work. Looking over at the clock, Makenzie realized Deven would be there shortly, ready to carpool to the office.
“Do I have to worry about you running away again?” he asked, and she could see that the inquiry was not because he was insecure of her, but to make sure she understood he wasn’t letting her go.
“Nope.” Mak was sure. Even if they broke up, it would be worth it. Just to claim him, for as long as it would last. But if he got any ideas about walking away, she was willing to fight for him.
“Good, I have to go to work. You know where everything is.” He kissed her one last time, sampling her lips. “I love you, Makenzie.”
Makenzie smiled, and this time the words came to her naturally. “I love you, too.”
Charyn walked away smiling.
Chapter 15:
What Love Looks Like…
The last six months were better than the first weekend. They still made love daily, and she liked the man as much as she loved him. They made several trips to visit his mom, Charlotte, who was absolutely the most fascinating person Mak ever met. Her attitude was casual despite her lifestyle, a hippie in high society. Upon meeting Charlotte, Mak understood her children’s attitudes about life. She could see how Dev was a daredevil, Charyn a romantic, and Marques a skeptic.
Makenzie left her job two months ago with much prompting from Charyn, and she paid the rent with some money she’d saved over the years. He kept asking her to move in, but she kept refusing, saying she liked having her own home for the moment. Makenzie couldn’t help but keep her own place. She refused to put herself in a bad position of starting from scratch, just in case something went wrong. Charyn told her the refusal felt as if she didn’t want to trust him. He let her, since he knew trust was earned, not given, and kept his mouth shut to keep the peace. But he still kept asking, and she kept vacillating. Either way, neither of them spent a night alone, whether they were at his place or hers.
But she did get the guts to give Charyn the painting she’d worked on of him, and now it hung in their bedroom, just across from the bed, at his house. The portrait made for many sexy nights, when she would masturbate upon request to his visage as he watched. Or on other nights, when she was bad, the painting witnessed many spankings.
She sold a few pieces to get her feet wet in the local markets and was now ready for her first show, at a gallery in Raleigh. The gallery, Déjà View, was coincidentally three blocks from Dojo, downtown. They were doing a full show of everything she had on hand. She even took the first painting of Charyn sleeping, with his consent, from the bedroom wall, although it was definitely not for sale at any price.
The idea of having a showing was wonderful and terrible at the same time. How would others take her work? Charyn thought everything she did was great, as did Charli and Mom. But how would people who didn’t know or have reason to like her think? The answer came that night when s
he sold everything there. The sleeping semi-nude of Charyn was inquired about numerous times, the amounts offered astronomical to a woman like her.
Charyn had a meeting for the Yakima deal and wasn’t going to be able to attend the showing, although he was there to help set up that morning. Makenzie was grateful that he hadn’t come. The women there were piranhas. She saw the lust in their eyes as they asked about the painting of him. If he was there in the flesh, her first show may have been the last after she socked some lusty rich patron in the eye for messing with her man.
After the last offer of near six figures, she had to get away. She never thought anyone would pay that much for anything she created while alive. It wasn’t even a sculpture. Makenzie smiled, ducking out back of the gallery. She smoothed the silk jumper Charli got from her French friend in a peacock blue. She topped it with a shawl and Christian Louboutin heels Charyn bought her.
Before she left that afternoon, he wrapped her in a rope corselet, a parting gift. When she needed something to ground her during the setup today, she would touch her belly, the reminder of him. Almost as good as a hug, it wrapped her from under her breasts to her hips. It had helped her stay calm during the long show and the stress of the day. The hour was late, almost midnight, and she was tired of heels and hobnobbing with patrons. She leaned into the wall, sagging, breath in small huffs leaving her chest. She didn’t think it was possible to become an overnight sensation, but from the looks of it, she could. The owner, Dayja, took her aside for a tête-à-tête, asking for more of her work to show in another six months. The volume she had to produce in that time seemed impossible, but she was going to give it the good ole college try.
Makenzie lit a cigarette bummed from one of the gallery workers. She hit it, taking a deep drag. This was her first in months, and the menthol went straight to her head. She was glad for the support of the wall, and relaxed, taking slow pulls of the smoke. She was halfway done with it when she heard steps shuffling in the alley.
Willows, Jennifer - Bound by Accident [Moreland Brothers 1] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 19