Chapter 12
“She’s Penthouse in person. Or even better, she’s porn served on a plate. And I bet…” Abbey keeps going while we watch Scarlett across the room, “you won’t take a bite of her, will you?”
I shake my head, always shocked by my sister-in-law.
Standing on the edge of a massive blue padded floor in a karate dojo, we’re supposed to be adoring our daughters in their little white gees learn how to kick, and we do.
But we’re also admiring Scarlett.
She’s standing on the other side of the mat, between my daughter and the doors to the building. She’s acting like she’s distracted by her phone, but she’s not.
I know her methods. Her focus is on Gia.
But I don’t answer Abbey.
It’s like we are siblings. I never had any, and when I married Darby, I met her polar opposite, her older sister. Darby was innocent; Abbey was bold. Darby was elegant; Abbey is edgy. She just hides it under her yellow cardigan.
And now she’s like Zar, pushing me to break.
“I bet she’s a hellcat in bed.” Abbey nudges me. She’s so fucking right. “You still like them, don’t you? Pussycats?”
“I’m a widower,” I huff, “not a corpse. Yes, I still like pussy…cats.”
“It’s okay if you like dogs, too.” I cock my eyebrow her way, and she smiles. “I mean, you and Zar are inseparable. I know he’s a bad boy, but I think he wants to be your best man, too.”
I scoff, “We’re best friends. He’s not attracted to me that way.”
But we’ve shared women and get off on watching each other’s dicks, and he likes my cum…but hey…sharing is caring.
Abbey shakes her head, making her long, curly brown ponytail swish. She looks like Darby, but she doesn’t talk like she did. Darby was sweet; Abbey is salty. When I’m around her, I can’t stop the comparisons to her sister.
And now I can’t stop the questions Abbey’s shoved into my mind.
Is that what Zar wants? To be my…man? Isn’t that what he already is? He’s my best friend by day and my sub on Saturday nights. Does he want something more? Something romantic?
“Luca,” Abbey huffs, frustrated by my denial, “everyone is attracted to you except me. You’re not my type. I like them burly and Sea Captains and gone most of the time, like John.”
I like my brother-in-law, too. But true, we rarely see him. John’s gone months at a stretch, and that finds me and Gia spending a lot of family time with Abbey and Harper, my niece.
At first, Abbey and I grieved together. We raised our daughters together, too. But then Abbey bounced back faster than me after Darby died.
She started laughing again and joking around. After two years, she told me I needed to live again, too. But this is the first time she’s told me to fuck again.
And she’s telling me it’s okay to fuck Scarlett?
Or Zar?
And Zar?
What the fuck is happening to my life?
One night at a sex shop, after watching three men fuck a woman and the men fuck each other too. After accepting Scarlett as my second sub, with Zar as my first, I feel the energy cracking over my skin.
I’m changing.
I am living again, but I don’t know as who.
And though some things may change, I will never allow myself the joy of loving again.
I’ve watched my close friend, Redix, fuck the man he loves, Silas. And I’ve watched them fuck Cade, Redix’s wife, too. They did it several times at their party, where I met Scarlett.
They’re so in love with each other. I think it’s hot and beautiful, too. I’m a sucker for love. And clearly, those three—Redix, Cade, and Silas—are in love. Clearly, so are Stacey and her men after the show they gave me and Scarlett last weekend.
I’d rather watch anyone in love because I know pain. I wouldn’t wish the kind I have on my worst enemy.
But sometimes, I don’t know what I feel for Zar. I love him like a best friend. I can’t imagine my life without him. I need him. I trust him. But is that all?
Yeah, I think he’s an attractive man. He jokes that I am, too. It’s normal for us to get off watching each other fuck or come, right? We live every man’s fantasy; well, he does. I just watch now. We’re secure in our arrangement, not seduced by it.
But Scarlett?
She seduces me.
She tempts me.
I almost fucked her again last weekend at Delta’s. I was so close. When my body was over hers, feeling her heat, I wanted to let go and fall into her fire. If she’s hell, then let me burn there forever.
“You know,” Abbey fills my silence, “Zar was attracted to Darby, too. He was in love with her. It was obvious.”
Where did that come from?
And why is Abbey bringing it up while we’re watching Scarlett?
“I know he loved her.”
I answer while watching Gia run to Scarlett, asking her to retie her white belt. Scarlett kneels, patiently showing her how to do it again. When Gia found out Scarlett was a professional fighter, she begged me to enroll her in “fighting” classes, so Scarlett suggested kids karate. And now the sight is too cute to bear.
“Darby knew how Zar felt about her,” I tell Abbey. “We all knew, but it was just me and her.”
Except for one time.
“Because that’s Darby.” Abbey tightens her ponytail. “She was the sweet one.”
“So I was the bitter one?”
Gia runs back to the line of kids, proudly taking her place beside her cousin.
“You are now.” Abbey’s half-joking. “You’re all grumpy and bitter, worse than you were when Darby was alive because now, you aren’t getting laid.”
“You’re not getting laid.”
“Yes, I am,” she laughs. “When married to a Sea Captain, you have many toys to keep you company and a helluva sexting game.”
“Same,” I tell her. “I got my fist. I’m fine.”
“What’s fine is your new assistant, Scarlett.” Abbey leans against my arm. “And when your fist finally gets old, I want to see your sparks fly with her.”
I chuckle. “I thought you were Team Zar.”
She laughs. “Oh, so you finally admit it? Y’all are a thing, too.”
“We’re not a thing. I told you, we’re best friends.” She cuts her eyes my way. “Okay, fine,” I confess. “Zar helps me dabble a bit. But we don’t fuck. I don’t fuck. I don’t cheat on my wife.”
“Luca,” Abbey whips her glare my way, lowering her voice, “I love you. You’re my brother, I swear. But I want to slap your sexy face into next week when you say that. You’re not cheating on my dead sister.”
She makes me swallow hard, chastising me, “She’s gone, and you’re not. You’re right here, looking fine as wine, with all those mothers across the mat wanting to fuck you senseless, so live again. And, god forbid, love again. I don’t care who: Scarlett, Zar, one of those moms, or some rando you meet at a bar. If not for yourself,” she nods towards Gia, who’s running to Scarlett again, “then do it for her. She deserves a happy father.”
I let Abbey’s bitch-slap of my heart sting for a while. She replies to a few texts on her phone while I watch Gia and how she’s drawn to Scarlett.
So am I.
I wake up thinking about her, excited to see her almost daily. I think of the little things I like to do for her, like sending her a monthly dog food subscription. Like finding a photo of her last title fight and having it framed for her. But Scarlett’s proud, so I have to restrain all I want to do.
Fuck, I don’t know what I want. Guilt or gratification. What’s the difference anymore, because guilt has been so gratifying to me?
Snickers flutter the air, making me move my stare from Scarlett to the group of six women across the mat. Maren stands with them, their eyes darting my way.
They catch Abbey’s attention, too. “Feel that?” she asks. “That’s a bunch of cats licking their lips for you.”
“Maren’s a friend.”
“Oh, you’ve got lots of friends who want to fuck you.”
I grind my teeth, determined to never fuck again.
“And,” Abbey adds, “Maren and her clowder sure want to sink their claws into Scarlett. They’re so jealous of her. It’s no coincidence that once you signed Gia up for karate, her entire class also showed up to take the same class. Those women stalk you; they want to fuck you. They’re sweet to you, but damn, they’re catty, talking shit about Scarlett right in front of her face.”
My eyes dart back to Scarlett, who’s ignoring the women, but you can feel their claws swiping in her direction.
I shouldn’t make Scarlett suffer this again, but I can’t help that Gia told her friends about starting karate lessons. The class is brimming with kids, and the dojo is packed with parents on the perimeter. You can’t even see the glass front doors.
The truth is, I’m proud Gia wants to be like Scarlett. She even colored her arm with markers the other day, saying her flowers matched Scarlett’s tattoos. Yes, she got in trouble for it. I grounded her from screen time, but secretly, I thought it was cute.
I don’t know how I will do this, but I have to try. I’m changing, and I can’t go back. I’ll always be a father, and I can still be Scarlett’s client, too.
But on Saturday nights? Tomorrow night?
I’m not a dad.
I’m a Dom.
“Want a cigar?”
All evening, I’ve tried making up for the abuse Scarlett endured today. I fed her Moussaka. We played Charades for Kids with Gia, and I let Scarlett watch me make a complete ass of myself.
How fucking hard was it for me to act out “Wings” and get Gia to guess it?
Impossible when Scarlett rolled on the floor, laughing so hard at me, she said she was “gonna pee my panties.” Gia was way too amused by that. It took forever to get her to sleep tonight.
“Can Scarlett spend the night?” Gia kept asking me since Fridays are Celine’s night off.
“I have to pick up Crimson,” Scarlett told Gia, I know to save us from an awkward situation.
No, a tempting situation.
“But he’s playing with his friends at doggy daycare.” Don’t argue with a five year-old on a mission. “So you can stay with me and Baba tonight. Like family.”
Gia looked too cute in her dinosaur pajamas, her long curls everywhere. I can’t resist her crazy requests, and apparently, neither could Scarlett.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll stay and sleep on the sofa.”
“You’re not sleeping on the sofa,” I grumbled. “I will, and you can sleep in my bed.”
I fought to make that sound innocent, and to Gia’s ears, it was. But now that she’s sound asleep, I’m too tempted with Scarlett in my home at this hour, so I follow my trusted routine.
“Let me guess.” She sniffs the cigar I offer her. “Cuban.”
The night is mild. The humidity is gone with autumn here. The full moon shines through thin clouds as I try not to stare at the sight across from me on my terrace.
“It’s an international blend, like me.” I take her cigar back and light it for her, puffing while I tell her, “Dominican. Mexican. Nicaraguan. But not Cuban.”
I hand her back the glowing cigar before I light my own.
“Do you ever miss Greece?” she asks. “Or Paris? They’re a far cry from South Carolina, I imagine.”
“Indeed.” It makes me chuckle. “The first time I saw pickled pigs’ feet being sold in a jar by a gas station cash register, I knew I was far from home.”
She laughs. “Then why do you stay? I’d love to live in some fancy European hotel or a Bali resort.”
I’d love to take her there, to every one of my properties.
I’d be proud to have Scarlett on my arm. She looks sexy wearing a silk emerald wrap dress and nude high heels while smoking a cigar.
“I stay for Gia,” I reply. “So she can be close to her aunt and cousin. I never had siblings, and since my father died, my mother won’t leave France. We visit her often, but we live here, so Gia has a cousin to play with. Family is important to me.”
“I like Abbey. She’s not a snob like those vanilla women at the dojo.” Smoke curls over her blush lips. “Bless those bitches; they think the sun rises just to hear them crow.”
I chew my cigar, amused by her sayings. It makes me curious. “Why do you stay in the South? You can go anywhere with your job.”
“I got family here too. Three sisters.”
She toes her heels off, tucking her bare feet under her on the patio sofa. I like her feeling comfortable in my home.
“What about your parents?” I ask.
“My mom is on marriage number three. She lives in Memphis with her husband. He makes her happy, and she deserves it.”
“Because of your stepdad, the one you almost killed with a skillet?” Scarlett falls quiet, tapping her ashes. “I don’t judge. I would do the same. I’ll kill for who I love.” She shrugs, her eyes glancing toward the moon. Something makes her frown. “So where’s your father?”
She takes three more puffs before answering, “He left eighteen years ago to get beer, and I’m still eleven, waiting at our trailer window for him to come back.”
The lump in my throat is sudden. Pieces fall into place. Scarlett won’t look at me. Her gaze is far away while I sit close to her, letting the hard truth in.
Scarlett’s dad abandoned her.
That’s her real scar.
I imagine her as a beautiful girl, crying by a window for her dad, just like my Gia did for Darby. For months, she cried for her “Mama.” It was excruciating.
So when Scarlett cried and said I used her, it was about more than the woman I left that night at a club. I hurt the little girl inside her, too. I can be so cruel, I know, but I would never hurt her like that.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, wishing I could say for what because it’s so much. “I?—”
“Mind if I intrude?”
A deep voice turns my gaze on Scarlett to see Zar standing at the threshold, where he usually does at this hour. Cigars on the terrace—it’s another one of our habits.
He doesn’t wait for me to answer. He’s already grabbed a Traveller from the humidor and filled a snifter with whisky. “Hey, Red.” He saunters over and plops down beside her on the sofa. “Told you,” he winks at her cigar, “you’re smokin’ hot.”
“Shut up.” She elbows him. “And call me ‘Red’ again, and I’ll put you in a triangle choke.”
Zar cocks his devilish lips. “Oh, I’d love to die choked between your legs with my face in your pussy.”
“And I,” Scarlett crows, “just won a sexual harassment lawsuit. Thank you very much, Mr. CFO.”
“I’m off the clock,” Zar quips, “and free to honor pussy after hours, not harass it.”
He makes her light up, her eyes sparkling while she laughs. “Last I saw, you’re not the one who had his face buried in it. She did.”
It’s fast. Their ease. Their banter. The memory of her catching us with two women. And it swells my cock instantly, imagining Scarlett with us instead.
“Oh, rest assured, Ms. Jones. I’ll clam dive all night long.” Zar loves this: a cigar in one hand, a whisky in the other, and his flirt aimed at Scarlett. “I don’t even need a mask. Just let me dive into your pink ocean while you wear my beard for hours.”
She laughs again. “You’re horrible.”
“And you’re bicurious.” Zar is smitten. “Wanna go for sushi with me?”
Me? I’m getting horny as fuck. Suddenly, I can see how the three of us could work.
SO. DAMN. WELL.
“I prefer a cunt lap over a cunt snack,” she gibes.
And Zar winks, teasing her back, “I bet you do.”
Scarlett puffs her cigar while they smile, staring each other down, and what the fuck am I watching? My attractive best friend, my loyal sub, is trying to seduce the woman who…
The woman who…what?
What is Scarlett to me?
The woman my daughter is attached to. Celine is more like a grandmother to Gia. Abbey is always her aunt. But Scarlett is young. She’s the age Darby would be now, and Gia won’t stop hugging her legs like she’s found the mother she doesn’t remember.
Zar’s taken with her. Though he flirts off the clock, he respects Scarlett. I’ve never seen Zar get close to any woman but Darby. They used to see rom-coms together because I can’t stand those damn movies, but Zar loves them. He recites them.
Celine likes Scarlett. They laugh over coffee all the time. And Abbey likes her too. Hell, she wants to see my “sparks fly with her,” whatever the fuck that means.
And Scarlett and I remaining professionals?
That line’s been crossed ten miles back. If we’re discreet, we can hide the secret of our new arrangement. Her company doesn’t have to find out, and she won’t get fired. I can keep her on this job for years.
As what though?
“The question is,” Zar keeps taunting her, “do you like eating club sandwiches?”
“Ahem,” I remind him who’s boss, “we will have this conversation tomorrow night.”
“Oh?” Zar’s surprised.
I haven’t had a chance to tell him about last Saturday night at Delta’s, what I did with Scarlett and our new arrangement.
That’s a lie.
I’ve been reluctant to tell him. I wasn’t sure how he’d take it, sharing me with Scarlett. The truth is, I can’t bear to lose him either.
“You’re joining us in the suite?” Zar asks Scarlett, again forgetting who’s in charge.
“Yes,” I bark, answering for her. “She is. But we’re not discussing it here. Remember the rules?”
“What are the rules?” Scarlett asks.
I turn my glare her way. “Never in my home. Never around Gia. Never around anyone, not even my friends. No one knows. It stays on Saturday nights, and it stays in the suite.”
Scarlett nods like she agrees with most of it. “But why not our friends? Cade and Redix and Silas? Stacey and the guys, too? They’d never judge.”
“Because I’m his big dirty secret.” Zar chuckles. “He’s ashamed of me.”
“I am not.”
Why would he say that?
Even though, deep down, I suspect it’s true.
I’m not ashamed of my kinks. I’m a natural Dom. It’s the air I need to breathe. But what I’m ashamed of is why I deny myself, why I live through Zar.
If my friends knew, particularly Redix, he’d worry. He cares about me and would wonder why I’m punishing myself.
Redix and I have shared so much. Whacking at golf balls and walking miles across the manicured greens of my golf resorts, I’ve shared my grief with him while he’s shared his recovery with me. Though Redix finally told me the harrowing story of how he got those horrific scars on his backside, I still haven’t told him why I have this scar on my soul. How Darby’s death was my fault.
I killed my daughter’s mother. Not directly, but I still remember her blood on my hands.
Try living with that guilt.
You wouldn’t want to, but you do. I do. First, I lived for Gia, then for my nights with Zar, and now I live to see what my days with Scarlett could be like.
Yes, I will bind her tomorrow night; I have a special new device for her if she permits. But even more…
I want to see Scarlett roam free through my life. She’s a natural with Gia. I adore seeing her around my hotel, in my home. She’s so much like me. What a relief it is to the soul when you find your reflection in someone else.
That’s how I feel with Scarlett. I feel seen. I feel understood. I finally feel like myself.
“If you’re not ashamed of me,” Zar challenges, “then why won’t you take me in my collar and have a scene with me in that sex club? The one where you and Scarlett met?”
Scarlett darts her glare my way.
“He figured it out,” I tell her. “He figured us out. I didn’t tell him.”
“You didn’t have to,” Zar interjects. “When you and Red are around each other, it’s like mating season on the Serengeti. She nuzzles your dark mane until you mount her, biting her neck while you breed.”
“We’re that obvious?” Scarlett sounds worried.
“To me, you are.” Zar warns her, “So be careful the next time your hot boss is around you two because she’s going to smell your pheromones in the breeze.”
“We’ll be discreet,” I growl, feeling like the mating lion Zar equates me to.
The fact that I know male lions can mate with females up to fifty times a day, and they sometimes mount other males to show their dominance only hardens my cock more.
“What else do you know about us?” Scarlett challenges Zar.
“He’s a vault.” Zar nods my way. “He doesn’t say anything about that night at the club, so I’ll ask you.” When Zar lays his gravelly Texas accent on thick, it tempts me every time, and now, he’s tempting Scarlett. “Did you get on your knees for him that night?”
“Yes,” she answers.
“Did you taste him?”
“Yes.”
“Did he taste you?”
“Many times.”
“How many times did he fuck you?” Zar drawls slowly, and he doesn’t sound mad. He sounds aroused by Scarlett’s confession.
I am, too. I like him knowing I’ve already taken her. She’s mine. And if I let him play with her, too—that’s Zar’s favorite game.
The man was born into more money than god. His family’s wealth is colossal, and he wants none of it. He gets off on giving up his power like it’s a burden to him, and I’m thrilled to take it, too.
“Four.” Scarlett sounds aroused as well. “Luca fucked me four times and not again until last Saturday at Delta’s. We…”
She stops herself, not sure what that was between us, but I know.
In my mind, I fuck her all night long.
“I didn’t break my rule.” I add, informing Zar, “We reached our agreement. Scarlett will be joining you on Saturdays. If she earns her collar tomorrow night, you’re both mine.”
Zar licks his lips. His stare aimed my way burns with lust. He’s never had another sub join him, not one I’ve collared. He’s always collared the others. They were his. They weren’t his equal.
Scarlett joining us will fulfill Zar’s fantasy, and now I can see what Abbey meant today because he’s staring back at me like he’s finally getting what he wants. And yes, his satisfaction pleases me. It’s very attractive.
Zar has always wanted a woman to share our darkest bond, a woman strong enough to take us, to connect us. But we’ve never had a woman like Scarlett before, not one who knew about us, not one we cared about…not one who survived us.
I just hope we don’t lose her, too.
“Your sheets smell like you.”
Scarlett nestles into my pillow, gazing up at me while I stand at the edge of my bed. Zar left for his suite an hour ago, so she showered, and now she’s climbed on top of my sheets like she’s home, and it sure feels like it.
“You belong in my bed,” I tell her.
I’m wearing my usual pajamas, no shirt, just a pair of my old joggers from college. I let her borrow an old HARVARD t-shirt of mine to sleep in, and I’ll make sure she wears it every night in her bed, too.
“You’ve really been alone all this time?” she asks. “Like, even on your Saturday nights, you’ve never slept with anyone? Not even Zar?”
Worry bends her stunning face. Her damp hair flames over my pillow. Her panties are white and lacy; I can sneak a peek at them.
“Why would I sleep with Zar?”
“Why wouldn’t you? He loves you. You love him. Even if you’ve sworn off women, is being with him breaking your rule?”
“I told you before,” I loom over her, “I don’t fuck Zar.”
“I’m not talking about fucking him.” She squeezes my pillow like a teddy bear. “I’m talking about holding him. About letting some warmth into your life, into your bed.”
“You’re the warmth in my bed now,” I confess. “You’re the warmth I’m letting into my life. I’m happy watching you here. I don’t need anything else.”
I’m sharing more with Scarlett than I have with anyone in years, and this has to be good enough.
Her face softens. “No,” she answers, “you think you don’t deserve it, but you do need it. I’ll follow your rules, Luca, but I control my mind. I know what I see. I see a father devoted to his daughter. I see a boss who takes care of everyone. I see a man who protects his friends.”
Her legs, carved with slight muscles, rub content over my sheets. This is a new side to Scarlett, soft and vulnerable and honest, and it’s breathtaking on her.
“I see a man,” she says, “who needs love again. He’s in pain without it.”
I stand by the bed that only Gia is allowed in on the mornings we watch movies and share waffles or when she has nightmares, which is rare. Otherwise, I sleep alone, if I sleep at all.
But the sight of Scarlett lying in my bed is so natural, it’s dangerous because she’s right. I do need love, and I won’t let myself have it, which makes her the perfect punishment.
“So, do you sleep alone, too?” I ask, knowing I’ll kill anyone who dares to hold what’s mine. I already see blood on my hands.
“No, I don’t,” she answers. Then she laughs, all husky and deep, reading the murderous rage rip across my face. “Calm down. I sleep with my dogsometimes.”
“So when you’re alone in bed, what do you do?”
“I think of you. I use my vibrator, and I come, moaning your name. I do it at least twice, sometimes three times a night before I fall asleep, hugging my pillow like this, wishing it was you.”
Her tender candor has my cock getting rock-hard. I’m tenting my joggers a foot from her sweet lips. “You’re toying with me,” I groan.
“Yes.” She starts lifting my T-shirt she’s wearing, revealing her panties. “I’m your toy, Luca. So how will you play with me tomorrow night?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Is Zar fucking me?”
“No,” I scold, annoyed and aroused that she’s trying to control our scene before it’s even begun. “I’m blindfolding you tomorrow night. I’m tying you up, and then I’ll play with you however I want.”
“I want you to.” She doesn’t back down, lifting her shirt higher, exposing her aroused nipples. “I want you to play with me, Luca, every Saturday night like you promised. Then, every Monday, I want you to get that dildo with a saddle and make me ride it at your feet. I want you to lean me over your desk every Tuesday, and lift my skirt and pull my panties down and fuck my ass with a glass dildo. Every Wednesday, I want you to?—”
“Fuucckkk, Scarlett.”
She’s killing me.
I’ll have to use a ball gag tomorrow night on her because she fights back; she fights my self-control, just like I told her to.
“Yes,” she stares up at me, tugging her nipples, “you can fuck me, too, Luca, however you want. Whenever you want. You can take me to any balcony, any window, any shop or club and fuck my pussy and come in my ass for all to watch. Let them watch how I belong to you.”
She’s racing through my mind, clocking all my dark kinks and winning. She’s using everything she knows about me so far to make me crack.
I could take her now. She wants me. She belongs to me, but I won’t. I have to know. “Why do you want this with me? Why did you agree to my terms, knowing I’ll never fuck you again? Or even kiss you?”
“Because,” she replies softly, “I like how you make me feel.” She drops her toying hands. She drops her seduction and answers me thoughtfully. “I had to be strong my whole life. It was lonely because I had to fight for me and my sisters and I was scared. I’ve never had anyone take care of me or defend me until you did. And I don’t get to show emotions on my job. I have to act like I feel nothing, but I do. Whenever I’m with you, you make me feel everything, good and bad, and I like it. I feel alive with you. I can be the woman I really am.”
“I made you feel bad because your father left you like I did that night. Right?”
Silently, she nods before confessing, “That’s what my tattoos mean. Flowers for my sisters and mom. Flames for how I feel. Skulls for my dad leaving us and crosses, praying he’ll return.”
The pain Scarlett hides is suddenly revealed. It’s written down her colorful arm and across her beautiful face. Like a wave receding, she’s showing me all her broken shells left in its wake.
It overwhelms me how much I want to take care of her, how she belongs with me, in my home and family. She was sent to me like a divine punishment. Like hell cements my feet, and heaven fills my eyes.
“I’m sorry about your father,” I tell her. “And I’m sorry if I hurt you like he did. I didn’t know, and I won’t do it again.” Tears well in her eyes, so I caress her cheek. “If you are mine, Scarlett. If you obey my rules, I’ll never leave you.”
The swallow in her tender throat is visible. The tear sliding down her cheek finds me leaning over to kiss it. I can’t stop myself.
“What happens if I break your rules?” she asks while my lips lift away.
“Don’t,” I warn. “Don’t make me end us because I don’t want to.”
“We haven’t even started.”
“But once we do, in time, you’ll hate me.”
“Why would I hate you?”
“Because I’m a man of my word.” I lick my lips, tasting her salt on them. “I will pleasure you in many ways, but you will never fully have me because I will not break my promise to my wife.” She flinches. I’ve done it again. “My dead wife,” I clarify.
“Luca,” she gazes up at me, “why did you make a promise to her grave? Why is it a secret? Why won’t you talk about how she died? It was on that bridge, wasn’t it?”
“Stop.”
“Why?”
“Because some words are too awful to say.”
“The only awful thing is the truth you hide.”
I don’t answer her. I control the silence while allowing my fingertip to trace over her eyebrow and the scar in it.
“Will you ever tell Gia the truth?” she asks, letting me barely touch her. I map the light freckles across her tan nose, over the silky skin of her high cheeks, and the blush on her petal lips. I could get lost in her. “Luca?”
“Her mother will remain a perfect angel, and I’ll be her hero, her father. That’s the lie Gia will always believe.”
She snaps up, her breath gasping, “You’re not Gia’s father?”
I step back, shocked out of my trance. “Yes, I’m her father.”
“Then what do you mean? What’s a lie?”
“Her mother wasn’t perfect, and I’m not a hero. I may be a good father, but I was a bad husband. You say I’m devoted, a generous boss, and a good friend, and maybe I am, but I’m more Scarlett. Believe someone when they tell you who they are—I’m not a good man.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Fuck, you’re stubborn.”
“Fuck, I’m right.” She shrugs. “So you’re flawed, Luca. And so was she. Who isn’t?”
“Some flaws are fatal.”
“Life is fatal, Luca, so quit fighting it. You have the privilege of being alive; she doesn’t, so live in her honor.”
“Don’t speak as if you knew her.” I’m not mad. I’m suddenly flooded with an ominous feeling. Like even when I fight with Scarlett, it feels right. It feels natural.
“No, I didn’t know her.” And she softens again like she feels it, too. “But I know Gia. I know Abbey. I know Zar. I know everyone she loved, and she loved you, too, and I see why.”
“I loved her as well. Very much.” I twirl the gold band on my finger. “That’s why I’m keeping my promise to her.”
“Okay.” Scarlett surrenders. “Okay, keep your promise to her, but make one with me, too.”
“Which is?”
Her stare weaves over me like my naked chest is her fabric, and slowly, she’ll cut me open. I know Scarlett can, and I won’t let her, and this will be the war I need.
Proving my point, she gently wedges her fingertip under the waistband of my joggers, tugging them down, and I don’t stop her. I’m naked underneath. My dick springs free, and I start getting hard again, letting her stare at me.
I can’t deny the passion between us, whether we fuck or fight. I feel alive with Scarlett, and it’s so tempting, the urge I feel to put my swelling cock in her mouth that’s inches away, but she surprises me. Leaning forward, she doesn’t aim for what I will undoubtedly refuse if she tries.
Gently, she kisses the birthmark on my thigh, the one she remembered from the night we met, and I hold her there. Sinking my fingers through her silky waves, I let her kiss my flesh, pieces of my heart healing against my will.
Yes, I need her warmth. I need her. I need Scarlett’s love, but this is all I’m allowed.
“Promise me,” she whispers against my skin, “that if you ever break your promise, you break it with me.”
“Lie down,” I tell her, with visions of her breaking everything inside me. “Let me tuck you in.”
“Is that a promise?” she asks, obeying me.
Tugging my joggers back up, I answer, “Yes,” but I’m not smiling because this is excruciating. It feels wrong while I do the right thing. I tuck her into my bed, then linger the back of my fingers across her cheek.
“Good night, my belle.”
“Good night, Friar Fuckless.”
Laughter bursts up my throat, surprising us because it’s funny. She’s funny. I do feel like a monk, and leaving Scarlett in my bed does feel like church. Like I’ll worship her forever.
“I’m going to the sofa now.”
“And I,” she announces, unfazed by our fading tension, “will fuck your pillow once you leave.”
“Please do,” I grin, “and save some for me. In case you hate me so much that you armbar my shoulder, and I can’t jerk off anymore. Right? That’s what you said. That I’d have to fuck my pillow.”
“Well, at least it wouldn’t be fucking your fist anymore.”
“Kiss it.” I hold my palm up to her lips, and she smiles, kissing my flesh before giving it a little tongue. It tickles. It shoots straight to my cock and keeps me smiling. “In five minutes, I’ll close my eyes, and I will be fucking you, Belle. In my dreams.”
But after I crawl under a blanket on my sofa, I don’t fuck my fist. I just let Scarlett’s kiss tingle on my palm as I fall into dreams with no nightmares.