by SR Jones
He takes it slow, holding both my hands as we move together. This isn’t him taking me—this is us coming together as one. Making love. It’s beautiful.
When I come, it is different to any orgasm I’ve experienced before. It’s gentler, subtle even, but beautiful with it.
Damen finds his own release, gasping against my neck as I hold him to me.
After, we lie together for the longest time, simply holding one another.
Despite everything that has happened. Despite all the sadness and the horror that brought us to this moment, I’m so grateful for him.
He’s my anchor in this stormy life we lead, and without him I’d surely be adrift. I know hard times are coming. Grief will hit harder one day, I’m sure. Trauma too. Right now, these things are buried, beneath the surface, but you can only stuff something down for so long before it leaks out. With Damen by my side, I feel confident I can face my demons when they lurch to the surface.
I snuggle in close, inhale his scent, and close my eyes as a new and wonderful sense of peace washes over me.
This man is my family now, and I am his.
We’ve both lost family and gained a new one. A different one to most people for sure, but no less amazing for that.
In giving me a new family, Damen has given me the greatest gift on earth, and I’ll always love him for it.
EPILOGUE: PART ONE
Damen
I watch Maya as she does lazy laps in the pool. We’ve been living together for a few months now, and it’s still as much of a rollercoaster as the first few days we met. I wouldn’t have it any other way either.
Today, she’s poking the hornet’s nest that is my never-ending lust for her by wearing the same damn swimsuit she wore all those months ago when she put on a show for the cameras in her parents’ home.
It’s the end of February, and the weather is freakishly warm. She and Stella are taking advantage and having a Sunday by the pool. And Maya is taking advantage by driving me crazy with every heavy-lidded glance she throws my way.
“God, I wish she’d stop bobbing out of the water all the time. She should swim if she’s here to swim, not prance about in the shallow end.” Alesso takes a sip of his drink, placing the glass back down harder than needs be. He’s referring to Stella, not Maya.
Alesso isn’t happy that, despite living in our apartment in the city, Stella is indeed here by the pool, getting longing looks from the Russians sitting by the water on sun lounges, and drinking fresh squeezed juice made by Rita.
They look relaxed, but underneath their sunbeds are AK47’s. Their eyes sweep the surrounding area every now and again. Not that anything or anyone is getting on this property without the alarms going off, but these guys are paranoid. They seem to have that same deep-down inability to truly relax that Andrius has.
I could tell them to go and leave us alone, but it seems churlish to not let them enjoy the sun too. They’ve worked hard getting security so tight a damn ant can’t walk onto this property without me knowing. A lot of that is down to Cole, who has grown into his role brilliantly.
“If those Russian fuckers look at Stella that way one more time, I’m going to shoot them all in the face,” Alesso growls under his breath as she climbs out of the water, stretches, and then executes a perfect dive into the pool.
I can’t blame him for being pissed. They’re openly ogling the girl. She looks like a supermodel, all tall and tan. Not that she’s a patch on Maya, with all her glorious curves and red-brown hair. None of the men dare risk even a glance her way, though. I actually would shoot them in the face if they did, not just grouse about it like Alesso.
“You don’t want other people looking at her that way, take her off the shelf,” Markos mutters as he swings his beads around.
They’re a new set. He still uses his old ones, but only in the house. These are a handmade set that Maya bought him. She said she wanted him to have them so he wouldn’t lose the ones he has cherished since childhood. Markos didn’t thank her at first, simply took the beads and stalked out of the room. Then two days later, a note saying ‘thanks’ was propped up by the coffee machine that Maya uses first thing every morning.
Two days after that, an antique silk scarf in the bright colors Maya loves was left wrapped in tissue paper outside our bedroom door. He’s a strange one.
“Fuck you,” Alesso snarls back. “I don’t want her, but they’re being disrespectful.”
I roll my eyes, and then my own jealousy roars to life. Cole steps out of the apartment complex we built for the men, and he’s wearing swim shorts. The fucker looks like he stepped off the pages of GQ summer edition.
“Why the hell is he going swimming when the girls are in the pool?” I mutter.
“You two should go get your swim shorts on and join those ladies before you combust with green-eyed rage,” Markos says. Clack, clack, clack go his beads, and I tamp down the sudden urge to punch his face.
“I will,” I grunt. And I do. I head back into the house and put on some swimming shorts. Not because I think Maya is attracted to Cole; I simply feel the need to stake a claim on what’s mine in front of all those men out there. It’s some primal, primitive urge, but I don’t tamp it down. I give in to it, and a few minutes later, I’m executing a perfect dive into the pool and swimming over to my woman.
She asked for this, anyway, when she wore that swimsuit. She knows what it does to me.
I glide through the water, a shark looking for its prey, and grabbing her ankles I pull her under.
“Damen!” She chokes and coughs as she surfaces, half giggling and half spluttering. “You asshole.” She hits me across the chest, and I grab her soaking hair, brush it back from her face, and pull her in for a kiss.
I don’t give her a mere peck on the lips; instead, I claim her mouth, taking what’s mine and reveling in it. She sighs into the kiss, her bones going liquid as she melts into it, letting me and the water support her.
Two of the Spetsnaz guys give a cheer, and I flip them the finger.
“Do you want me to get out of the pool so you can pee all over me, mark your territory good and proper?” Maya bats her wet eyelashes at me, and I bust out laughing.
Her smart mouth always makes me smile. I think we ought to take this upstairs so I can show her what happens to girls who tease. I also think I’m going to have a second pool put in because a whole summer of Maya dressed this way and surrounded by single, young men is not something I relish. The guys can have their own pool; there’s space around the back of the converted garages.
Alesso will thank me too. He’s giving the side-eye to Cole himself now, because the Greek-American is chatting with Stella, his legs dangling in the pool, her arms rested on the side next to him. Alesso hasn’t got anything to worry about. She has no interest in Cole; the girl has major heart eyes for my friend. She’s naïve and sweet, and she blushes every time he casts the barest glance her way. Alesso is stuck in a place where he can’t bring himself to make the move, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have her.
It sucks, and I understand it because of my own issues with Maya, but he needs to decide what he wants because the grouchy, jealous act is getting old.
He’s always been something of a player. He fucks women he picks up, and he doesn’t often go for second rounds. I know, although he doesn’t talk about it. You get to know these things when you’ve lived with someone a long time. The way he’d come in some mornings at the crack of dawn as I was getting ready for a run, stinking of perfume and alcohol. It didn’t take a genius to figure out, Alesso had screwed his way around a lot of the gorgeous flesh available in Athens.
It’s always been easy for him, and I think he’s bored. There’s no fun in it, not if all you have to do to get half the women in the vicinity to drop their panties is toss them a grin. Alesso is too good looking, and too charming when he wants to be, for his own good. He has women lining up for him, and it might seem like every man’s wet dream, but he’s been doing this
shit for years and years.
Stella swims over to us, just as I’m about to suggest an afternoon lie down to Maya.
“Thanks for having me over, guys. It’s been really nice to see you both.”
“We’re having a dinner party next weekend, like proper grownups,” Maya says with a laugh. “You should come.”
“I can’t.” Stella gives a small shake of her head, but her eyes have brightened. She looks around, leans in close to us both, and lowers her voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve been digging around in the life of this politician I think is corrupt. I won’t say who. But I’ve managed to get into his inner circle somehow. This guy, I think he’s basically spending tons of public money on infrastructure projects that go nowhere, then pocketing most of it for himself and the developers who then never build anything. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but I got alerted to the number of times supposed projects have been grounded and simply languish with no work going ahead on them. Lots of community groups are up in arms, and nothing gets done. I had dinner at his house with a few of his friends last week, and he’s invited me to a party on his yacht this coming weekend.”
“That sounds completely unsafe,” Maya says, immediately echoing my thoughts.
“Does he know you’re a reporter?” I ask her.
She laughs. “You both know that my internship has been a joke. I get to write articles about amazing new mascaras that look like false lashes, or how the new rage at parties is a Charcuterie board to impress your friends. Those bastards have got me writing every silly, supposedly female-oriented story that comes their way. I’ve done not one bit of investigative journalism since I’ve been there, and everything that’s been published under my byline makes me look like an airhead of the highest order. Add in the fact I set up that Instagram account that’s all lifestyle stuff too, and no one has any clue that I want to be an investigative reporter. Hell, even my own parents think I’ve become an influencer. Daddy keeps asking me when I’m going to stop all this and apply to medical school.”
“Why don’t you stop all this and apply to medical school, Stella?” I get an elbow in the ribs from Maya for my contribution. But I go on. “Seriously, you’re not doing what you want to be doing, but if you were, it would be as dangerous as fuck. You don’t want to go digging around into these people. You could make a difference and save lives if you went to medical school. Or go to law school and get these bastards in court.”
“I want to prove, just once, I can do something that isn’t set up for me by Mommy and Daddy. You both know if I go to medical school, or law school, that it’s as much to do with who my parents are as it is my own grades. I don’t want to do medicine, because frankly, I don’t want the responsibility of someone’s life in my hands. It makes me so stressed to even think of it, and I hate the law; it’s so bloody boring.”
Her swearing shocks me because she doesn’t do it all that often. Not unless she’s alone with Maya, and then she sounds like a teenager trying out rebellion, all fuck, bitch, and shit like that. It’s funny, and kind of cute. Stella is naïve in a way I don’t think Maya has been in years. The product of a happy, kind home environment, and living in a peaceful wealthy suburb.
“I want to make my own way in life, and I can do this. I don’t do well at certain things. I’m not good with people; Maya is one of only three friends I have. And the other two, I see rarely. Maya knows, I wasn’t loud in school or the sort of person who had tons of hangers on, and I am the same now. I’m not good … you know … socially. I am good, though, at research. And obviously, the people from the community groups who have talked to me about this in confidence think I can do it, or they wouldn’t have come to me. I feel as if I owe them to be honest.”
Too damn good and so naive. I shake my head and glance at Alesso. I ought to tell him about this, but he’ll go apeshit, and unless he makes a move on the girl what can he do? She doesn’t owe him anything.
These community groups… I’m wondering why they went to her? It doesn’t make sense. You want a story investigated about a politician, you don’t go to some junior intern who writes about mascara for fuck’s sake. “How did it come about? These people finding you?” I ask her.
She smiles. “They came to the offices one day, looking for our star reporter, but he’s an old soak. He was already in a bar, probably on his fourth brandy, and I told them so. Told them to come back in the morning, but they said they’d asked him to look into this so many times, and he kept letting them down. There were two women, lovely people, so I asked them to tell me. Then I asked them if they’d leave it with me. Stop contacting other reporters and let me have a try at figuring this out. I asked them to trust me, and they did.”
Okay, so it makes sense, and sounds as if they genuinely found her by accident. The whole thing is still too dangerous, though.
“You can’t go on a yacht with this guy alone,” I tell her.
“Oh, I’m not. My friend is coming with me. He’s happy to have a day out on a yacht, and there’s tons of people going to be there.”
“Like who?” Maya asks. “And what friend?”
“Alistair, you know. The English guy who has been living here for a few years with his family. I asked if I could bring a friend, and the politician said yes. It’s perfect. Alistair is gay, and high profile enough with his partner that if this politician looks into him, he’ll know my date has a boyfriend and will still think he has a chance with me. The creep wants to get in my pants—I can tell. I’m hoping some booze and some flirting might relax his tongue a little. It means I have someone with me, protection, but not someone who will make this guy think he has no chance. Anyway, there’s all sorts of people going to be there, including your ex-neighbor. Remember her? The movie star.”
“Oh, Lord,” Maya says. “The poor woman who got involved with Yannis?”
“Yes, seems like she’s back on the social scene.”
“Stella, don’t take this wrong, but you’re not exactly awesome at flirting,” Maya says. “You can be pretty shy around men.”
“Men I like,” Stella shoots back. “I don’t like this man. He’s old, gray, and not in a silver fox way, and he’s boring. He’s not that high up in the sense of being powerful, but he’s obviously got his fingers in the cash register, so to speak.”
“Take Alesso,” I tell her.
She snorts, an odd sound coming out of her perfect nose. “No way, and you can’t tell him. He’ll ruin this for me by turning up.”
“Okay, Markos then.” I think this is crazy, her doing this.
“I can’t turn up to a party on a politician’s boat with, no offence, but mob enforcers.”
“Not offended, darling; although, we’re more like mob bosses these days.”
Maya gives a soft laugh, then turns serious. “Take me.”
“No fucking way.” I put my foot down immediately at that crazy idea.
“You guys, let’s leave this now. Please. I’m taking my friend. There is going to be a host of glamorous people there. If I sense anything is off, I’ll get out of there before we leave dry land, okay?”
I think it’s crazy, but before I can say anything else, she’s hugging Maya and telling her she’ll call later in the week, and then she’s out of the pool and grabbing her things.
“Come on, let’s get out of the water too.” I catch ahold of Maya and pull her in front of me, splaying my hands over her belly and nibbling her neck. I determine to look into who Stella is investigating and see if it is safe.
“You can’t get out of the water for a while,” Maya says, pushing her butt against the rock hardness in my swim trunks. Distracting me from thoughts of where and how I should start poking into Stella’s life.
“I don’t care,” I answer. “I want you; come on.”
She sighs. “Okay, Mr. Neanderthal, take me to your cave.”
“You asked for it.” I scoop her up and throw her over my shoulder, ignoring her cries of protest.
&nb
sp; Alesso smirks, Markos rolls his eyes, and Cole grins as I stalk past them and into the house.
“You absolute animal, you’ve mortified me; put me down,” Maya demands.
“I will, in one moment.”
I take the stairs two at a time, and as soon as we hit our bedroom, I do as she asks; I set her on her feet, by the window ledge, with the view out over to the fields to one side, and the sea in the far corner.
I pull her swimsuit down, and once the soaking material is on the floor, I order her to spread her legs.
“You’re such an animal,” she complains.
“Yeah, and you like to provoke me. Why else would you wear this particular gold number? As if I wouldn’t remember the show you gave me in it all those months ago.”
She tries for serious, but I catch the hitch of her lips.
“Maybe I want to catch a tiger by the tail,” she says.
“Oh, you’ve caught him alright.” She has too, hook, line, and sinker. I’m hers.
Legs spread wide for me, she’s delectable. I drop to my knees and take in the view of her soaked pussy. I want more, so I put my hand on her lower back and push gently. “Bend over and hold onto the window ledge,” I order.
She does as I say, and I push her legs farther apart. She’s opened for me now. A ripe flower, wet with dewy moisture. I want to taste, so I lean in and lick right at her core. She moans and pushes herself onto me. Her folds are soaking, and she’s been as turned on as me by wearing this swimsuit.
I don’t have the patience for much foreplay, and she’s so wet, she doesn’t seem to need much either. I stand, pull my swim shorts off, and bracket her with my arms, trapping her in my embrace.
I bite down on her neck as I push into her and she cries out. Keeping one hand on the ledge, I use my other to pull her into me, squeezing her copious tits as I do so. She’s all curves and jiggling flesh and I wouldn’t have her any other damn way.