Chapter 29
“Hmmm,”I study Scarlett’s face, “your nose needs to be browner.”
She laughs. “Said no one about me, ever.”
“Baba.” Gia brushes my hand, holding a makeup sponge, away from Scarlett’s face. “Bears have black noses, not brown. Look.” She points to my phone beside her on the kitchen island.
“She’s right.” Scarlett glances at the YouTube makeup tutorial paused on the screen. “We all need black bear noses.”
“Can you make my hair like that?” Gia asks Scarlett.
The model has it pulled into cute hair puffs, mimicking ears. “Sure!” Scarlett declares. “We’ll all do our hair like that.”
I nudge her foot. “My hair’s not long enough.”
She winks back. “Think again, Papa Bear.”
Scarlett sits on the barstool beside me, knee brushing knee, while Gia sits on the counter before us, leading the transformations. But we have to help her. If not, we really will look like we’ve been brown-nosing.
The front door beeps, and I grin, rolling my eyes. “Here comes trouble,” I warn Scarlett. “Watch, we’ll never live this down. You’ll find honey jars on your desk from here until eternity.”
“Zar!” Gia jumps down and runs for him.
Stepping into the kitchen seconds later with Gia on his arm, the look on his face defines a “shit-eating grin.”
“Well, my, my, my,” Zar drawls. “What do we have here?”
He’s too damn happy at the sight of me and Scarlett, looking like Goldilocks’s adult playthings.
“We’re taking a picture,” Gia plays with Zar’s whiskers, “to tell everyone that Baba and Scarlett are getting married. That Scarlett’s gonna be my mama bear forever.”
She’s been so excited since Christmas Eve when we took her to Build-A-Bear and gave her the exciting news—we’re getting married this summer. Twice.
Zar plops down on the other stool beside me with Gia on his lap. “Looks to be some kind of picture.” He teases, “Like Smokey The Bear’s in for some fiery role play.”
I kick his foot, and he laughs because Gia’s too young to catch the dirty reference.
Of course, Zar knows about the wedding. He was the first person we told. We called him from the hospital.
So, after Gia was fast asleep on Christmas night and Celine was home to watch her, the three of us snuck down to the suite to celebrate.
It was more like a reboot because Scarlett and I have no boundaries now, but Zar has new ones.
He still wants me as his Dom. He still comes for my whip. Zar still craves the taste of me on Scarlett, but I’ll never let him fuck her, and that feels right to us. Scarlett understands. Sharing her with him in that way drags us into our painful past.
And we’re moving forward.
I feel free.
I am free.
I’ve hit the jackpot of love and lust with Scarlett. She’s everything I need, and I want to give Zar what he needs, too—sex with him. Lately, I get aroused by the idea of finally fucking him. Zar does, too. Scarlett said she’d love it. The three of us talked about it, but Zar wants to wait.
He’s met another man. He doesn’t know how they’ll work yet, and we understand. He’ll always be welcome with us.
We’ll always love him.
And Gia certainly will.
No, Zar isn’t her father, but he’s her family. Our family. He loved her mother, too, and she’s the daughter he may never have. She sure has him wrapped around her little finger.
“But Gia, remember.” I use the voice she’s back to obeying. “We’re not sharing our picture or our family secret yet. Scarlett needs to tell her boss, Ms Charlie, that she’s not working anymore.”
“I remember,” Gia chirps, hopping down from Zar’s lap. “Can I have some Kourambiethes?”
She’s seeking the cookies by the stove. They’re vanilla and covered in powdered sugar; she can’t resist.
I nod yes, as Scarlett corrects, “Oh, I’ll be working, just not for HGR anymore.”
“Yeah,” Zar taunts, “we’ll keep the new Chief of Security for The Mercier Hotels very busy. She’ll need fancy gold handcuffs.”
But she elbows me?
Fine. I’m guilty. I thought it, too. We’re three peas in a kinky pod.
“Just know, I’m not dressing like a French secretary anymore,” Scarlett warns. “For my new job, think French assassin.”
Scarlett points at herself, and once again, I admire the bandage on her right arm and the ring I put on her left hand. It’s a rare pale blue diamond. Finding one that size is not easy, but when you know the CEO of Harry Winston Jewelry, you get it sent by a special secured courier the next day.
I wanted to propose to her formally, but I had no patience.
We’ve waited long enough.
So I had Celine keep Gia busy Christmas morning, making chocolate madeleines while I proposed to Scarlett in the shower.
Don’t judge.
It was the only privacy I could trust for an hour, and she looked too beautiful. The water hid our tears while I swore to love her, to live on bended knee for her. I slid the two-carat diamond on her ring finger and stayed there, on my knees, proving how much I’m devoted to her, to her pleasure, too.
“So, when are you two shackin’ up?” Zar asks.
“Not until we’re married.” I reach for Scarlett’s hand. “I’m old-fashioned that way.”
That gets Gia’s attention. She’s back on task. “Baba,” she puts her hand up, “stay there. I’ll get the stuff for our bear hair.”
She marches off to her room, on a mission to destroy any ego I have left, right in front of Zar, who waits until Gia’s out of earshot.
“Old-fashioned?” Zar scoffs. “Please. You’re so damn kinky you have to unscrew your britches to take them off at night.”
Scarlett laughs, and I chuckle, too, muttering, “Fuck you.”
Zar winks. “Not yet.”
I stare him down even though I probably look like Winnie the fucking Pooh. “Just let me know when you’re ready to find out why they call it ‘Greek Style.’”
“Shh!” Scarlett nudges my foot because Gia returns to torture us with hairspray and hair ties. And I allow it, even my mortifying hair puffs as ears, too, with Zar here to witness.
Yes. This must be love.
I let him take the picture of me, Scarlett, and Gia on the terrace. The late December afternoon is mild. It’s perfect. I hold Gia in one arm, my other wrapped around Scarlett while I kiss her lips.
Zar quips, “Say ‘honey,’” to snap our pic, and I mutter to Scarlett, “Told you.” But he captures our smiles.
Fuck, we’re not even married yet, and I’ve never been this happy.
Later, we clean up after Zar leaves for his beach house. I hold Gia’s hand. Scarlett does, too, walking down the sidewalk through the French Quarter, warmed by the afternoon sun, dappling through the bare, twisty oaks.
“Baba,” Gia skips between us, “when Scarlett becomes my mama, will Crimson be my puppy, too?”
Scarlett laughs. “Told ya she’d wear you down.”
“Shit,” I grumble. “Am I in control of anything anymore?”
“Nope!” Scarlett laughs even harder.
We’re on our way to walk her dog, and yes, that cute mutt will be living with us, too.
While we play in the park and Scarlett and Gia teach Crimson how to jump through a hoop, my phone buzzes with notifications.
I check it, excusing myself, worried about what’s blowing up social media. I have a fake account to monitor posts about my properties, but I follow a few hashtags because I care.
I care about the celebrity going viral again.
I call him. Twice. Each time, it rolls to voicemail, and he doesn’t call me back until Gia’s asleep and Scarlett and I are enjoying cigars on the terrace.
“Hey dude,” Redix greets me. “What’s going on?”
“I’m checking on you dickhead,” I answer. “It seems someone’s having a very Happy New Year’s trip.”
Scarlett grins, puffing away because she saw what went viral, too.
Fans busted Redix on a private holiday he’s trying to have with his wife, Cade, and their partners, Silas and Eily. It seems Daniel Pierce, his wife, and our friend, Charlie Ravenel, are with them, too.
Fans posted pictures of Redix and Daniel at some pirate museum in the Bahamas. But in the posts, Daniel didn’t look thrilled about it, and I know Redix too well. He looked worried. They’re co-stars. Their show is number one, and they can’t escape the press or the rumors.
I understand. I feel bad for them.
“Fuck, man,” Redix groans. “I can’t go anywhere without it going viral.”
“You sure as hell can’t go anywhere with Daniel Pierce and expect it not to.”
I never blow sunshine up Redix’s ass, and he doesn’t mine either. We’ve shared too much.
I talk to him while I admire Scarlett sitting across from me, curled in a chair, wearing my Greek fisherman’s sweater over her black leggings. And I feel my joy, my freedom. I feel it’s finally time to share it all with Redix.
I joke a bit with him, giving him hell about the orgy the six of them are obviously having on Silas’s superyacht. Though I know it’s much more. They share a deep love. They follow their hearts, not the rules.
I do, too.
Yes, I believe in vows and traditions, but I’ve learned the hard way some rules can kill love.
Love can’t be contained in words, covered by graves, or confined by rings. Love is bigger than any person. It was here before us. It lives on after us. We change for love; love doesn’t change for us.
My gaze worships Scarlett while I tell Redix, “I want to finally show you and everyone I care about…who I love.” Then I think of Zar with us, making my cock stir. “And I want you all to watch…how I love them.”
Redix replies with shock, with a volley of questions. I’ve been keeping him guessing about my love life and sex life for quite some time. “You want Silas to send the chopper for you?” Redix also sounds impatient. “You can show us tomorrow.”
“No,” I chuckle. “I’ve waited this long. Let’s find a weekend this month when you can join me as my guests.”
“At your golf resort?” he asks because we usually meet to play a round there.
But now…
My mind is crafting the most elaborate, erotic, dark, and sensual group play. It’s making me hard and Scarlett chew her lip, her sapphire eyes sparkling in the night.
“No,” I answer Redix. “At my Charleston hotel.” My dick swells more, imagining it already. “There’s something I want to show you.”
“Show who?” But Redix is cautious. I’ve been so private for so long. “All six of us? You want Daniel and Charlie there, too?’
This is perfect. Scarlett needs to tell her boss anyway…
“Yes, Charlie Ravenel definitely needs to be there.” She’s a stunning woman, too. “If her husband wishes to join her, that’s even better. It will only add to the scene.”
I tease Redix, but I make sure he’s okay, too. I’d kill for him. I’d kill for anyone I love. I make him laugh, promising me it’s a date, then I end the call.
“Just what are you planning?” Scarlett rises from her chair. She keeps her cigar in hand while she straddles me, grinding on my erection. “A night where all our friends are in the suite, and I walk in with your collar on and tell my boss I’m quitting to be your sub for life?”
I brush an auburn tendril from her face, tucking it behind her ear before lingering my fingertips down her bare neck. We haven’t put her collar back on.
She needs to earn it again.
I sink my hand in her silky strands, pulling just enough to make her mewl, to make her open her neck for my bite.
“I’m giving my treasured fiancée the engagement party she desires.” Gently, I bite, I kiss, I lick her neck before I steam over her ear. “They’re going to meet my beautiful future wife and admire her ring.” Carefully, I bite her ear, too, just enough to make her shudder. “Then they’ll meet my sweet whore, and admire how we’ll fuck her all night long.”