KING (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (11 page)

“I promise I won’t tell,” I vow.

“Kat wasn’t our first triad relationship. I wasn’t into girls, but I came to understand Cort’s needs. He was in love with Faith, and I loved her as a best friend- we still do. I never was… to crudely put it, I never… We had sex, but it was anally. Kat was the first girl I was with that way. I didn’t enjoy Ade’s company. Master Ez found your wife enticing. What I’m getting at is that I understand where you’re coming from with Regina. I loved Syn as a friend, so it was about comfort and affection… I was a teenager, so I was also horny as fuck. It was different with Kat. I
want
her. Regina feeds a bad part of me. But if I admitted the truth, the only one that has ever felt right… was Cortez.”

“What happened with Syn?”

“Faith, you remember how she was. She was a great girl going through a lot. When Faith ran away, she returned as Syn. It’s like how Jamie isn’t Grant, no matter how hard you try to make him into who he used to be. Syn isn’t our Faith. I know she still loves us, and that’s good enough for me. I will always cherish the memories,” Ezra sadly says.

“I’m sorry,” I grumble, having no idea how to make it better.

“No one’s at fault. It was just a matter of circumstance. Faith taught me that I could make Cortez happy if I found a woman that I really loved. Katya is that woman for us. I love her heart and soul, as does Cort. I… I’ll never want her as much as Cort, but it’s a close second. Just as Cort will never want one of us more than the other, his persuasion doesn’t allow it.”

“You must be so horny,” I sympathetically cry in alarm. “What the hell is wrong with your partners? I’ve wanted you since I was nine-years-old and figured out that even though I couldn’t get hard yet, my cock liked boys. And you were its favorite boy.”

“You crack me up,” Ezra c
huckles, just as I hoped he would. “Cort did give his permission for both of us to figure out how to be gay, while he goes off and figures out what he wants. I’m assuming I’m a scratch you need to itch before you commit to Dalton, and that you’ll want to know what you’re doing before you make that final leap.”

“That makes me sound like I’m using you, doesn’t it?”
I turn my face and look at the enticing curve of Ezra’s jaw. He doesn’t look back at me, just stares straight ahead at the manse. A moment later he shrugs.

“So what?
I’m using you, too. Every relationship is give and take- some take more than others. I’m proof that marriage doesn’t mean a happy ending and that you can still play around with your friends.” Ezra smirks at me, showing me with one look what he wants to play.

“Okay. What now?” 

“Tennis… I think we should play a match. Exercise lets your mind work through things. It’s a healthy distraction. Screwing would just complicate this shitty day. Tennis… I’ll even let you serve first and choose your side. No coin toss necessary.”

~Chapter Eight~

Knock… Knock…

I stare at the floor in shame while holding my peace offering. I brought Regina a tray of her favorite things: black as midnight iced coffee, this morning’s newspaper, and a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. Under the tray is her prize. It feels like an empty gesture now. Eighteen years of drawings shouldn’t be given as payment for forced sex.

“
Morning, is this for me?” she sounds surprised, but not surprised to see me. Regina’s not used to being pampered.

“Sorry,” I whimper, refusing to meet her eyes.

Regina laughs at me, taking the tray from my arms, and tries to kiss me on the lips. I turn my face at the last second. It feels wrong to kiss her on the mouth for some reason. We end up awkwardly smooching each other’s cheeks. Regina gives me a quizzical look as she walks into her room. I follow because she left the door open- it stays open.

“Did you sleep well?”
I stay near the open door, unable to walk any further. I’m not sure I can have this conversation. I don’t know if I can get through it in one piece. It has to be my obsession that’s making me doubt my decision. Fear, it’s fear that’s making me want to turn around and run like hell.

I’m doing the right thing… I’m doing the right thing…

“Like a brick, actually.” She sounds surprised that she slept well. Regina eats a quarter of the sandwich in one bite and washes it down with a huge gulp of coffee.

“Really?”
I roll my eyes at how hopeful I sound. I venture a few feet into the room.

“Yeah, I did. I pass out in one bed and wake up in my own. Have to say
, it’s strange… being back here… sleeping in this bed. Even stranger is that I’m sharing it with Marcus while he sleeps over there.” Regina points at the adjoining door that leads into Jamie’s room.

“Imagine how strange it feels to him,” I s
ay of my father. “I wonder if Jamie wishes that he was back in your bed,” I muse.

“Doubtful.” Regina
puts on a brave face, but her tone is infused with an emotion I can’t name. Like she wants him to want her and suffer from the loss, but at the same time she wants him, too. Or maybe Regina just hates his cowardly guts... I’m going with that.

“The last time he was in this room, he found out I was pregnant, asked me to marry him, and then left to kill
himself. So yeah, today is one of those days where I’ll probably tell him to fuck off.”

“I tell him that every day,” I don’t joke. “Are you
sure you’re okay being back here?”

“When Albert and Grant brought me here, I sat in the car for a minute with my album. I got out and looked
up to the sky while clutching a pair of wedding bands that were secured from a cheap chain around my neck. I was promising my dead parents that this wouldn’t be my future. This adorable kid practically tackled me while I was making my vow… Am I okay being back… Yeah, I think so. I’ll do anything for my kids. Plus it doesn’t feel the same here. I’m not some naïve girl who was stolen off the street. I’m a grown woman that can take care of herself. I’m here of my own volition… Yes, I’m okay,” she tries to convince herself.

“Good. Is Marc in the bathroom?” I
need to apologize to him, too, and he needs to hear me out.

“I think Marc
’s giving us some privacy, actually. You need him, too?” Regina sounds vaguely disappointed that I don’t want to talk to her alone.

“Yeah,” I
bashfully say, and stare at my shoes.

The eavesdropping rat-bastard appears
as if by magic from the bathroom. They look at me expectantly while I hug my sketchbook to my chest. I’m struck with the thought that this is what it feels like to stand before your parents and grovel.

Jesus, I don’t want to see Marcus and Regina as my Ma and Pa. It turns my stomach.
That frustrated noise roars from my chest.

“Sorry,” I whisper to the floor. “I was wrong
, and what I did was unforgiveable. I’m going to try to behave. Ya know, no molesting Regina,” I tease. A smirk flirts with my lips, but instantly vanishes.

“Mmm…” Marcus hums while snagging the last of the grilled
ham and cheese sandwich. “Thanks,” he raises the sandwich in salute, a gesture of dismissal.

I finally look at Regina since she’s so quiet. Tears instantly well in my eyes when I see her bottom lip quiver.
I’d do anything not to hurt her, and here I am being the pain bringer.

“I’m at fault, too. I’m assuming this isn’t just about last night
... But I knew something was up when we left the theatre, but I didn’t say anything. I could have made you stop, because I didn’t reach that headspace until midway through our… yeah, so anyway, it was partially my fault. I want to do stuff like that again,” she reluctantly admits, furiously blushing. “But I can’t. I crave it too much.”

Our eyes da
rt away from each other’s to awkwardly stare at the carpet.

“I can’t make any promises that I won’t relapse into a possessive asshole. I’m taking the year off the table as an act of good faith. Whenever you want to dissolve our marriage, I’ll do it. With this shit going on with… whoever the fuck they are… it would probably be best if your money wasn’t tied to mine. That way they don’t have your family line, too, or however that works. I
don’t know. Just… hell, you can have my money too. I don’t want it. I don’t know what I want anymore,” I whine in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own. I sound broken- ruined.

“Wow,” Marcus drawls. “What did my son do to you last night?”

“We played Tennis,” I tell the truth, something I don’t usually do.

“Is that a euphemism for some kind of sex I don’t understand?”
Marc’s brow scrunches up in confusion.

“No,” I uncomfortably laugh. “We literally played tennis. No
touching or anything. We talked for a bit before and after, and then went our separate ways. We each won a match. We’ll probably double with the kids. Have a tournament or something.”

“Are you okay?” Regina asks, as if realizing what this breakthrough is costing me.

“Eventually…” I pause, and then abruptly spit it out before I can change my mind, “Listen, I know you don’t love me like that. I finally get it. I get that I don’t love you like that either.”

Regina slumps in relief and it hurts like a sonofabitch. “We shouldn’t have ever gone there, Sunshine.”

“But we did… because I made you do it.” I pace in a circle, disgusted with myself. I’ve been emotionally raping Regina since I met her. I made her do anything I wanted by emotional manipulation, promises of a better future, and I used her fears against her. I even used the kids to get what I wanted, even though I knew she didn’t want to do it in the first place. I’m no better than my grandfather or father. Worse, because I promised that I wanted what was best for her because I loved her. Selfishly, I directed her towards what I thought was best for me. Too bad it was to our mutual detriment.

Regina snorts. “Yeah, it was a hardship for me. A brilliant, loving, loyal, and sexy as hell, young man married me and adopted my children. I could have done a lot worse,” she teases. “And the sex w
as fantastic- mind blowing.” Regina shudders with remembrance of last night. I need to change the subject before my body registers in with my perverted thoughts.

My pervert meter just hit the red-alert level of incest. It was bad enough that I was with the mother of my siblings. But to come to the realization that I wanted her as my mom, too. It’s just too much for me to handle right now. I’m trying to ignore the hunger for her touch. My brain needs rewired. You shouldn’t want to make love to the woman you long to call Mom.

“If… if he wants them back.” I thought telling Regina that I’d give her a divorce was difficult, but this is killing me. The words lodge in my throat. “I’ll do it for them. I know what it feels like when your parents don’t want you. If Jamie will acknowledge them, I’ll sign my rights away. I guess he’d have to be Grant for that, though.”

“No, Whitt,” Regina rejects the notion
, and I’m relieved. “You’re their dad.”

“Okay, but if you want me to bring it up to Jamie or Ella, I will. I don’t think Niel would agree, though. I…
I love them as if they’re my kids, but I just want what’s best for them.”

“Were you abducted by aliens from the tennis court last night?” Marcus
taunts me. “I won’t allow Jamie to acknowledge his children. It’s the fit punishment for his abhorrent behavior. Don’t ever bring this nonsense up again.”

“I’m really sorry… for everything I’ve done. I mean it.” I keep talking before they can interrupt me. “Um- Grandfather and Diane sent a request. We’re having a meeting in the study about
them.
Twenty minutes,” I say in parting.

Shit!
I get two feet into the hallway when I remember I forgot something.

I qu
ickly backtrack and hand off Regina’s prize. Wordlessly I place the sketchbook in her outstretched palms. I turn to leave, but I’m engulfed by four very strong, demanding arms. They demand that I accept their comfort.

“You will be okay,” Marcus stresses, squeezing me so tightly I can barely breathe.

“Yes, he will,” Regina mutters against my throat.

“I… I just can’t do this right now,” I protest, pulling from their embrace. “I’ll see you both in the study in fifteen minutes.”

Any semblance of decorum leaves me as I flee the room. I sprint down the hallway, but I can’t run fast enough to escape my past or my pain. I don’t slow until I reach the foyer.

“Psstt…” Ezra gains my attention
as he stands in the foyer sorting through the mail. I’m not surprised that my entrance didn’t go unnoticed. I was sprinting down the staircase, thumping the marble treads beneath my pounding feet. “What are you doing?” He tosses the large stack of envelopes on the ornamental table that takes up the center of the room, and then starts walking towards me.

I take a deep breath and release it. “I just told Regina
she could divorce me,” I loudly and breathlessly announce. Deep pain and understated pride war in my voice- an agonizing laceration that will never heal, causing me to sound hollow. “Now I have a family meeting to attend.” I grimace and look over my shoulder to the open study.

“Well
, good luck at your meeting,” Ezra sounds disappointed. 

“Thanks,”
I mumble and turn to enter the study.

“Do you have thirty seconds?”
he asks in a charming voice, trying to lure me.

“I think I could pencil you in,” I tease.
“I don’t know, though. Thirty seconds is a large chunk of my very busy schedule. Lookie there, it just flew right by,” I snicker, pretending to look at my watch.

“Come here,” Ezra
growls the demand and it reverberates down my spine.

My feet bring me to Ezra
without thought, his smoky voice beckoning me. “Ahhh,” I suck in a surprised breath as his lips descend on mine. A moan bubbles up from both of our mouths as we connect. My hands lightly slide around his waist and settle at the small of his back. Ezra’s not as gentle. One hand possessively grabs my ass, hauling me against him, while the other curls around the nape of my neck, controlling the kiss. The act, the aggression, I don’t usually allow. Regina’s the only one that’s tried to get the upper-hand. She quickly learned that I’m the man in bed. But for some reason, Ezra’s rough handling quickens my pulse and ramps up my arousal.

Kissing Ezra
is different than all the kisses before. A girl is a girl, and I’ve kissed too many of them. Dalton was in a league of his own as the only man I’ve ever kissed. Ezra shows me the difference between the types of kisses. Dalton is effeminate, so it’s like kissing a girl with mannish mannerisms.

With
Ezra- I’m kissing a man.

I
aggressively push Ezra to the nearest hard surface and revel in the fact that we’re the same height and build- everything lines up perfectly. No cocks jabbing stomachs or hips. No bending down to reach his lips. My body trembles when our pelvises align, erections pressed tightly together. Ezra clenches my ass and kneads, all the while rolling his hips against mine. Starved groans rumble up his throat as he eagerly thrusts his tongue into my mouth. Hands yank our shirts free until the bare skin of our chests connect- flesh on flesh. The heat of his strong, lean muscles against mine scorches me, incinerates me.

Ezra’s
hard chest, strong arms, and firm, unrelenting grip drive me into a frenzy. He smells and tastes like a man should, musky and warm. Jerking, quivering flesh has me crying out in ecstasy. I don’t know if it’s Ezra’s cock or mine that’s wildly spasming, maybe both.

Ezra nips my bottom lip
with his teeth and I find out the answer. “Ez,” I hiss, shuddering as I ride out a misfire. A powerful orgasm wracks my body, my mind processing the elation of Ezra’s mutual desire. I’m in disbelief. My boyhood crush is kissing me, grinding his arousal against mine, proof that Ezra wants me as much as I want him.

This isn’t the sweet makings of first love. It’s the intense heat of two men knowing what they want and taking it without shame.
My eyes roll back, my spine bows, and my breath continually hitches in my throat. I want to moan
holy hell,
but it feels so good I can’t form words.

Ezra’s
strong hand tremors against the back of my neck as we stare into each other’s eyes- our lips linger together. He gently fists my hair, arching my throat, and feathers a few light kisses that weaken my knees.

“Two for two.
You’re the second man I’ve kissed, too.” Ezra murmurs against my throat. “Congratulations on your impending freedom. I know you’re unhappy because of it, but it’s in your best interests.”

“Thanks… for…” I don’t mean the congratulations, but I’m too bashful
at the moment to explain what I really mean. If I want a man, then I better man up. I finally get the balls to say exactly what I meant. “I needed that kind of release after… after dealing with all this shit lately.”