by Sierra Hill
I chew on this because that’s news to me. “Huh. And did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Marry me just out of obligation to receive your inheritance?”
The look on his face is a mixture of both disappointment and annoyance.
“You know I didn’t. I love you, Kyler. And if Jocelyn doesn’t want to give me the inheritance money then that’s her right and I’ll still be happy with you. Because you’re what I want. Not the trappings of a dowry.”
“Dowry,” I chuckle mirthfully. “You’re so old fashioned and outdated. Speaking of which…we really need to get you fitted with a hipper wardrobe if I’m going to be seen out and about with you from now on.”
I pluck at his shirt with mock disgrace and give him an eye roll.
“Hey, you knew what you were getting when you married me. And as they say, you can’t change the man after marriage. I am what I am.”
I climb on his lap and straddle him, seductively grinding my hips into his groin, as I pull at the hem of his T-shirt and get him to remove it from his body.
“Hmm…I bet I could get you to change your mind,” I murmur, slinking down to place hot open-mouthed kisses against his chest, licking a line down his breastbone.
As I pepper him with kisses, he mentions out of the blue something else about his conversation.
“By the way, you’ll get to meet Jocelyn at Christmas. She’s coming down to spend the holidays with us.”
Talk about dousing the fire with cold water. My lips stop their descent just above his waistband, his hard cock nudging against my chin, as I sit back up and place my hands on his shoulders.
“Uh…okay. Should I be nervous to meet the family?”
“Pssh. Not in the slightest. Jocelyn may be old-school, but she has a good sense of humor and judge of character. And she’ll love you because I love you.”
With the swift flick of his hands, he picks me up and carries me down the hall to the bedroom.
“However, since we’ll have a guest for a week, I think we need to start practicing our quiet lovemaking skills,” he teases, capturing my mouth with his. “Because you, baby, are the loudest screamer when you come. Let’s work on that tonight, shall we?”
I nod emphatically as he dumps me on the bed. Gesturing with my finger and miming the ‘lock and key’ at my lips, I pull him down on top of me and don’t say another word until we’re completely naked and he’s balls deep inside me.
And then I scream loud enough for the world to hear, “Oh fuck, daddy! YES!”
43
Lucas
The next few weeks pass relatively quickly with the hustle and bustle of the upcoming holiday season and the culmination of the end of the semester work.
Most of the classes I taught this semester included either a final paper or project, which then stands to reason that my days are comprised of an enormous amount of my time reviewing and grading said projects.
This year, however, I haven’t dreaded the holidays, mainly because I have someone in my life to spend them with. Kyler has all but moved in completely, although he’s agreed to keep paying for his portion of his rent with Peyton until their lease is up. And while our friends are now completely in the know about our marriage, I have waited to share it with the Dean until after the semester ends, citing work and time restraints as my reason.
When really, it’s fear.
With the grandmother’s visit scheduled for this weekend, I’ve been burning the wick at both ends and especially feel it this morning as I reach for my coffee cup at the edge of my desk and accidentally bump it, sending it tipping over onto my desk and paperwork.
“Shit!” I curse, frantically moving the reports and piles of work out of the way and looking around the room for something to clean up the coffee.
A knock at my door grabs my attention for a moment, as I lift my gaze to see the Dean himself, Dr. Hollingsworth and Dr. Clemons, standing outside my office.
I blink, rifling through my brain to recall whether we had an appointment this morning.
Nothing comes to mind as I swipe away the remaining liquid with a piece of tissue, tossing it in the garbage and then greeting them both with a guarded smile.
“Gentlemen, good morning. What an unexpected pleasure to see you both. Come in.”
They file in, the Dean first, followed by Dr. Clemons, who wears a bland expression under his mustache. It’s not unusual for the older man to grimace with his resting bastard face, but typically he seems a bit warmer around me.
“Good morning, Dr. Mathiasson.” The formal salutation from Dean Hollingsworth is a clear indicator this is not a social visit. Not that they’ve ever just popped in unexpectedly to shoot the shit.
My nerves begin to prickle, that sixth sense niggling in my gut that something is going on. A lump forms and lodges in my throat and there is an unnerving feeling they’ve learned about me and Kyler.
I straighten my back and square my shoulders against the back of my chair, folding my hands together on my lap.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?”
Dr. Clemons steals a glance toward the Dean and they exchange a consorted look with one another, Dean Hollingsworth then peering back at me with a hard gaze.
“Dr. Mathiasson, it has come to our attention that you’ve had a non-consensual relationship with a student in one of your classes.”
I force myself not to shout out loud a very unprofessional expletive. But in my head, I’m screaming, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
My mind reels with anxiety over my relationship with Kyler. Did someone see us together at some point and then report what they saw? Regardless, it will be easy to explain how wrong they are when I tell them that Kyler and I are married.
Cocking my head to the side, I work to remain calm, even though my blood boils underneath my skin, turning my bloodstream into a hot, bubbling cauldron.
“A non-consensual relationship with a student?” I repeat, brows furrowed defensively. “I’m afraid that is wholly inaccurate.”
Choosing not to reveal anything about Kyler and myself unless it’s absolutely imperative, I wait for them to reveal their hand.
With a heave of a sigh, Dr. Clemons stands and skirts around the corner of my desk where I’ve just wiped up the spill and bends down to reach for the drawer, his bushy eyebrows rising expectantly.
“May I?” he asks, his hand on the drawer handle and I scoot back in my chair, gesturing with my hand.
“By all means. But may I ask what it is that you’re looking for? There is nothing in my desk to provide you with evidence of any relationship.”
“We’ve been informed otherwise.”
He slides the drawer open, rifles through some files and an assortment of notepads, digging in search of something. Of what, I don’t know.
What the hell is he looking to find? There is nothing in there except bloody freaking junk. I don’t often even go in there, with the exception of rooting around for a pen or a Post-it note.
And then a frown and a confirmed grunt from Dr. Clemons has confirmed he’s indeed found the evidence he was looking to find.
He clears his throat, pulls out what looks to be a wrinkled Polaroid camera photo, stares at it for a moment, and then without even giving me a chance to see it, hands it to the Dean who solemnly accepts it.
“What is that? I’ve never seen that before.” My voice raises and I try to get a better glimpse at who it is. All I see is a flash of golden skin.
Dean Hollingsworth’s tone is grave. “An anonymous report came in that you had been making inappropriate requests of a sexual nature of your student, Jessica Polesky.”
He flips the picture around for me to see it, as I lean forward, elbow on the desk, and adjust my glasses to get a good look.
“Is this or is this not, Miss Polesky?”
My jaw drops open and I’m at an utter loss for words, completely blindsided by this accusatory allegation. I don’t even know how to respond
.
The picture is of Jess, sitting in an office chair, which appears to be my desk chair based on the worn leather grain of the material. Her skirt is hiked up so her panties are visible, and her blouse is open to show the lace cups and her cleavage bulging out. And her face…
Jesus H. Christ. That vindictive, lying bitch.
Her face is turned to the side, tears evident on her cheeks, making it appear that she is being asked to do something she doesn’t want to do.
Holy fuck. This is not going to end well for me.
I stand, pushing the chair back so it hits the wall with a thud, and point at the photo in the Dean’s hand. “I’ve never seen this picture before. It is not mine and it’s been planted in my office. I’ve never requested anything from Miss Polesky except that she work directly with my TA for additional help this semester. In fact, several months back, Miss Polesky came on to me in a very suggestive manner and when I denied her, I was about to send you an email to report her inappropriate conduct.”
Believe me, even to my own ears, the truth sounds so incredibly ridiculous and preposterous that even I wouldn’t trust what I’m saying. It sounds suspiciously made up to prove my innocence.
The two men volley their gazes to and from one another and then back to me, Dr. Clemons shaking his head with a pinched frown at his lips.
“Do you have this supposed email in your drafts, perhaps? The email you claim you’ve written but never sent?”
My ears ring with the sound of my heartbeats and I stare blankly in shock for a moment before I turn to my laptop, opening up my email inbox and praying that it’s still in my unsent drafts.
I recall that day so clearly because I’d just returned from my leave of absence and Jessica came in and propositioned me, and when she left, I began to type out the documented conduct when Garrett had cornered me in the hallway on my way to class.
My fingers fly over the keyboard and I search for the saved draft.
And there it is. Saved on October 10th addressed to the Dean and Dr. Clemons. Unfortunately, there isn’t much more. It started out with “This note is regarding a student of mine, Miss Jessica Polesky.”
And that’s it. There’s nothing in there about how she propositioned me or lewdly tried to get me to have sex with her.
All it does is prove something was going on. And I just hope it’s enough to prove my innocence.
I turn the laptop around for them to view it but hang my head in despair. The only other thing that can possibly be my way out is the other truth about a different relationship.
“Dean Hollingsworth. Dr. Clemons. I can assure you I have made no attempt to sexually harass Miss Polesky or exploit this young woman in any way because I am not interested in her. In fact, I’m not interested in woman at all because I’m gay. And I also have a husband to prove that fact.”
44
Lucas
“My darling boy, look at you!”
My grandmother flings her arms wide as I enclose her in a tight hug, passengers at the arrivals gate milling past us all in a hurry to get where they’re going.
Holiday music plays over the airport PA system interrupted every few minutes by announcements and travel warnings.
The last few days have been difficult to say the least. It felt my world came crashing in on me – everything I’d worked for shattered at my feet like glass.
I’d been put on paid administrative leave pending the outcome of the investigation, in which the HR Director and Dean inquired and probed into my personal life, my teaching methods, and my inter-collegiate relations, pulling in testimony from those that I work with, as well as Kyler, who was beside himself over what transpired.
When he’d returned home the day of the investigation, after being called into the Dean’s office, Kyler was beside himself with worry, for fear that I’d been fired.
“It’s okay, babe. I’m just on administrative leave while they gather their facts.”
He’d told me the details of the questions they asked him and was worried that when he admitted truthfully that we had an affair and got married last month that he’d sabotaged and ruined my career. But I told him it had nothing to do with us, but the female student out for revenge.
“Care to tell me about her and what happened?” Kyler had asked, rubbing my back as we laid together on the bed.
“She just wouldn’t take no for an answer. I tried, Kyler. I was polite and tried to let her down gently. And for what? She fucking lied because she didn’t get her way or what she wanted. And now my career could be ruined.”
Red-faced and infuriated, Kyler sat up, smacking the mattress with his palms.“That’s absolutely fucking ridiculous. Did you tell them that you wouldn’t hit on her because she isn’t your type and that you’re married to a man? I told them everything, Luc. When they asked me today. I thought I was narcing on you but I couldn’t lie about our relationship.”
I’d held his hand, grateful for his support and integrity under fire.
“Thank you, baby. I’m glad you told the truth. That’s all I’ll ever ask of you, is to be honest with me. If we don’t have the truth between us, we have nothing.”
After that, he got quiet, as if mulling that over and we fell asleep in each other’s arms, enjoying our solitude until my grandmother’s arrival.
And here she is, dressed in head to toe Chanel, color-coordinated from head to toe, as I kiss her on both cheeks and pull back to look at her. I realize now why Kyler always makes fun of me for my very formal manner of dress.
“Merry Christmas, Grandmother.”
We disengage and I grab her bags as we head to the terminal and baggage claim.
She gives an exaggerated glance behind and around us, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
“Where is your partner?”
I let out a blunt chuckle. “My partner? You mean my husband? Kyler is at home awaiting your arrival. He is a brilliant cook and has a delicious dinner waiting for us when we return.”
“How very domesticated of him. Will he stay at home and raise the children, too?”
The remark is clearly snide, but I decide to fuck with her a little and give her a taste of her own medicine. My way of shutting her up about my husband and my decision to get married so quickly.
While I was truthful with Kyler when I told him that Jocelyn took the news of our wedding fairly well, she did grill me quite a bit about Kyler’s past, who his family was, and details about him that I didn’t yet know. Which caught me off guard and put me on the defensive.
And one of the questions she had asked me was whether Kyler and I were on the same page regarding children and a family. While I knew my own thoughts on raising children – I wanted them eventually – I didn’t know when and if Kyler would be ready. Or if he wanted them at all.
“Oh yes, Grandmother. Did I fail to mention that we’ve adopted two children from China? You’ll meet them tonight, along with my house husband.”
Her mouth opens in an O and when she sees my smirk, she swats me with the back of your hand.
“Lucas MacArthur Mathiasson. You’re incorrigible.”
Once all the bags have been delivered and we’re on our way home, Jocelyn begins to pry again, prodding me for details about Kyler and his life before me. But mostly whether he was after my money.
“Jocelyn, I can understand your concerns over my relationship with Kyler, but you will find that he is a wonderful and supportive man. And he makes me happy.”
“And I’m happy you’re happy, Lucas.” She pats my hand and I know there’s a but coming. “But how do you know this young man isn’t some sort of gold digger? You told me you mentioned your inheritance and he immediately jumped at the chance to marry up. I just don’t think you know a lot about him. Have you even met his family?”
Family is an important concept to Jocelyn. It’s the bedrock of her life and legacy and the reason she’s giving me my inheritance prior to her passing.
I thread my fingers through her dai
nty and aged hand and give it a gentle squeeze.
“He’s been estranged from his parents since he graduated high school because his father was against his only son’s life choice. As if it’s a choice we make.” I shake my head with a bitter sigh.
Her voice is quieter, the subtle assault of character laced in the comment. “Perhaps that’s why he latched on to you? He needed love and acceptance from an older man who could provide for him.”
“We all need love and acceptance, Grandmother. And I know he loves me. Now please, just drop it.”
As if this is the last straw, she reaches into her bag on the floor and extracts a manilla envelope, pulling out the contents.
“Darling, I just want you to know that it pains me to do this, but it’s for your own good. You left me no other choice but to have a private investigator look into Kyler’s background and lifestyle choices. I couldn’t in good conscience allow you to marry a man you didn’t know.”
I’ve parked my car in my parking garage and turned off the engine, the dome light automatically illuminating the stack of material in my grandmother’s hands. She pushes it in my direction and for a moment I just stare at it with contempt. A snake ready to strike.
“What the hell is this?”
“It’s evidence that suggests your husband,” she enunciates the word as if it’s a synonym for monster. “Married you for only your money.”
I grab the stack roughly, flipping through financial records, a police report, and then finally pictures. Pictures of him on a stage, purple and orange lighting cascading over his almost naked body, his face, and body painted in glitter and make-up. He looks sexed-up, uninhibited, and completely alluring. Is this the man I married? Where was this?
“When and where were these taken?” I bark, hoping they’re from years earlier so there’s an explanation of his actions.
But I already know the answer.
“Two weeks ago. Right after you told me you were married. Lucas, did you know that your new husband is a deep in debt exotic dancer at a male strip club?”