Radiant Surrender (CSA Case Files Book 6) (21 page)

“Stay there while I come around with an umbrella.”

“I won’t melt,” Jessie said, trying to lighten the mood as she broke eye contact with him. She unzipped her clutch and put her phone and the photo inside so they wouldn’t get wet. Her heart was still racing at the anticipation of what was to come and if she wasn’t mistaken, that was perspiration on her palms. What she really needed was a little meditation, but that was only going to happen if she did her yoga. Speaking of that, it got her thinking about her yoga pants and then onto what she was going to wear this weekend. She stopped Gavin from getting out of the car. “Wait. Did you swing by my place for some clothes?”

“No.” Gavin opened the door and unfolded his frame in the same graceful manner he drove his vehicle. He reached behind his seat for the umbrella and then threw a devious and charming smile her way. “You won’t need any clothes.”

Gavin swung the door closed, leaving Jessie breathless and a little speechless. Her body immediately responded to his suggestion. She could still easily see the devilish glint shining in his green eyes even through the rain splatters on the windshield. He was enjoying himself and she was enthralled by the transformation. This was not the man she worked under for years…this was a man who had the ability to make all her dreams come true.

Chapter Nineteen

C
rest poured the properly chilled forty-six degree bottle of Bollinger La Grande Annee 1999 into two champagne flutes while he enjoyed the scene in front of him. Jessie was currently walking around the open living room space, touching things here and there while taking in the landscape that was visible through the thick glass wall.

There was no need to tell her that it wasn’t really even glass. It was two one-inch thick panes of Lexan with an electronically polarized film sheet sandwiched between them. This allowed Crest the ability to tune the amount of light filtering in or out to any level or completely black out the windows whenever he desired. Not to mention it could also stop any round short of a .50 caliber AP projectile if need be. The doors and window casements were actually made of BG-42 high carbon steel, covered in a hard oak wood to lend the impression of freshly split lumber. All she needed to know was that they were just as safe here as they would be if they were at his apartment in the city.

Crest tried to see his getaway through her eyes. The rough cut northern red oak logs used to build all the structures that were visible had been designed that way on purpose. The knots in the wood gave character to the place and he’d done everything he could to keep the scheme
au natural
. Upon entering the house, he’d immediately lit a fire but didn’t bother closing the glass doors or turning on the blowers that would distribute the heat more efficiently. The outside weather was relatively warm, but the fire added an ambiance to a wet and dreary afternoon as the logs caught fire from the kindling and crackled on occasion. What was a nice feature he’d had installed was that the main bedroom was on the other side of the two-sided fireplace. He had the ability to close the screen and doors on either side for privacy if he ever had guests that were still in the main living room after he retired, but since it was just the two of them…

“Did you have this built?” Jessie asked, a slight tremor in her voice that she probably didn’t even notice. It had been there since they’d finished lunch, as if she expected him to order her to undress in front of him. It might be to her disappointment, but he wasn’t starting a scene quite yet. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“Yes, years ago.” Crest picked up the two cut crystal flutes and carried them over to where she was standing in front of a picture. He handed her one glass and then pointed to the photo. “That’s my mother and father, Carolyn and Hugh Crest. It was taken during their forty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration in Sass-Fee. He was an avid skier and my mother indulged him too often.”

“You take after your mother,” Jessie murmured as she leaned in closer to the frame. Her hair fell across her shoulders and he smoothed the strands down her back. He was pleased that his touch had her eyes swinging to his. When he did nothing else, she continued. “Who is with Terry in this picture?”

“That’s my biological father,” Crest answered honestly, waiting to see her reaction at such a private part of his life. When she just concentrated on the family pictures that he’d displayed on the far wall, he explained his past in further detail. She already knew that Terry was a close friend of his, as he stopped into the office every so often. CSA had even captured the man responsible for killing Terry’s wife. What she didn’t know were the personal particulars. “You see, Kenneth Sweeney had an affair with my mother and left out the fact that he was married. After she became pregnant, Hugh Crest—who I consider my real father—offered his hand in marriage. According to him he’d always been smitten with my mother.”

“And he raised you as if you were his own?” Jessie asked in a soft voice, almost as if she were afraid she was going into sensitive territory.

“Yes, he did. I love him very much and both of my parents were honest with me once I was old enough to understand, so it wasn’t something I had to deal with later in life.” Crest saw her raised eyebrow and went on to explain about Kenneth Sweeney. “Ken didn’t tell his family until I was in high school. You see, Terry and I both went to the same school and had become quite close. Ken was afraid, needlessly I should add, that I would say something to Terry. He came clean with his wife and Terry during our senior year.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask how that went.” Jessie straightened and took a sip of wine, her eyes telling a different story altogether. Crest chuckled at her brazen curiosity. “But I will since I know the truth didn’t affect your friendship. And if I recall during Terry’s case that Connor had been assigned to, Mr. Sweeney had even come to town and offered his support.”

“Ken knows that I have no hard feelings.” Crest took a drink of his own wine, savoring the sparkling white brut. He gestured toward the photo. “I think he’d like to be more involved in my life, but that’s not going to happen…at least, not in the way he’d like to be. I have my family and Ken has his. Terry is important to both of us and because of that, my connection with Ken continues to exist. As a matter of fact, Terry mentioned that Ken will be in town soon and he was wondering if I’d like to join them for dinner.”

“And will you?” Jessie asked, not hiding her interest as she gazed at him over the rim of her wineglass as she sipped the crisp dry wine.

“Yes, if time permits.”

“What about Terry’s mother? I can only imagine her reaction to hearing that her husband had an affair. Does she treat you differently?”

“I never spoke to her about it, nor will I. It isn’t my place.” Crest thought back to his senior year of high school and the times that he was in Mrs. Sweeney’s presence. “I wouldn’t say she treated me differently, but our contact became less and less frequent. It was shortly thereafter that I entered the Marines.”

“But you kept in contact with Terry and you must have gone home on leave to visit your parents. I know they live in the same area, so there had to be times when both of your families saw each other. I guess what I’m saying is that out of everyone in that scenario, I feel for Mrs. Sweeney.”

“I can sympathize and yes, I agree that Ken had a lot to make up for in his marriage and he should be very grateful that his wife stayed to see if they could things work out between them. I don’t condone adultery and I expect the same of the woman I’m with.” Crest slowly walked toward the couch and waited for her to do the same. He remained standing until she took a seat and then he joined her. She was relaxing more now that they were talking and he wanted that to continue. “I take it from your commiseration with Mrs. Sweeney that you feel the same?”

“A relationship can only survive if there is trust and fidelity, the last being an exception to those who have a prearranged agreement, of course.” Jessie tucked her legs up underneath her as she became more relaxed, having removed her high heels a while ago. “Personally, I wouldn’t be able to have that agreement. I’m old fashioned in a way and I want what is between me and my lover to remain just that…between us.”

“The lifestyle that you’re a part of brings a lot of different… flavors… into relationships. While I agree there are no right or wrong ways to participate—with the exception of safe, sane, and consensual—is there something that you need besides fidelity?”

Crest enjoyed learning new things about Jessie and considering they worked together for so many years, there was little on the personal front that he wasn’t aware of. He knew exactly how she took her coffee, her taste in clothes, her favorite color and flower, the nervous tics she had such as biting her lip or playing with her hair, and things such as what foods she liked or didn’t like. What he didn’t know was what she preferred sexually and her thoughts on various aspects of the lifestyle he had chosen to be part of if only in a technical sense. He didn’t bother to hide his smile as she used her free hand to play with the strands that had fallen over her shoulder.

“You mean like a soft and hard list?” Jessie asked, her brow coming down slightly in reaction to the direction he was taking this conversation. “I have—”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Crest draped his left arm on top of the couch, making himself more comfortable as he sat back to watch her reactions. “We’re both adults. I know that you’ve played at Masters and I’ve actually seen your soft and hard limit list already. Remember, I am the one who aided in constructing the membership guidelines and vetting out those who didn’t belong. I’m talking about the lifestyle in general. What makes you attracted to it and what does it bring you?”

“Oh.” Jessie’s face had flushed slightly when Crest had mentioned that he’d seen her limit list. It had been a complete accident at the time. Jax and Connor had brought in some paperwork wanting advice on how to ensure the security of their members. They’d shown him examples of what they were asking from their members and one of them had been Jessie’s. Looking back, Crest wondered if Jax and Connor hadn’t done so on purpose. “I’ve never verbally given an explanation before.”

“Try.”

“You already know that I was raised as a free-thinking, independent, self-sufficient woman.” Jessie drank more of her champagne, as if that was going to give her fortitude to talk about this. Crest wasn’t asking her these questions to embarrass her. He truly wanted to know what made her think this lifestyle was for her and to understand what he could contribute to her needs. “In one aspect of my life, I want to be able to relinquish that control, give up that part of myself to a trusted dominant man I respect. I want to just experience…to just be lifted to a place where my most primal sexual desires can be fulfilled. I’m sure a lot of women say the exact same thing.”

“You’re right,” Crest agreed with a nod of his head. He reached down and tapped her knee, wanting her to place her feet on his lap. She did so warily. “I want more from and for you.”

Jessie’s emerald green eyes widened and contained a hint of worry in them. Crest didn’t believe that she was nervous about what she was going to say, but more from revealing too much of herself. Every person had barriers that even they weren’t aware of. This path that she wanted to go on…that she wanted him to lead them down…was more about self-discovery than anything else. They would each learn more about each other as well as themselves. It was his responsibility to see that they each did so. It was her responsibility to be truthful and allow her limits to be expanded at a rate that only she could gauge through honest and frequent exchanges.

“I don’t know what else you want me to say.” Jessie caressed the rim of her glass in circles with her French-manicured index finger. Her brow was still crinkled and her nose faintly scrunched. “I’m being honest.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t.” Crest lightly rubbed the back of her bare feet, noticing that the manicured nails didn’t only extend to her hands. Her feet appeared delicate and dainty, much like her. “I’m saying I want you to give me more than the standard answer you see on the Internet or what you think you’re supposed to say before a scene in the club. That’s like I could have given you the typical answer that most men give:
I like the control
. I didn’t. I told you exactly what this lifestyle brings to me and what I’d be able to give you. You’re the one who is still here and willing to take things further. So besides the standard answer…what is it that this lifestyle brings you?”

They both fell quiet and Crest took the momentary silence to finish off his glass of France’s fine work and set it on the table beside him. The fire was starting to die down and he would eventually put another log on and pull the screens across before they turned in for the night. The rhythmic tapping on the windows indicated the rain wasn’t letting up any time soon. Being here with Jessie like this was more comfortable and more satisfying than he would have thought. There was a peaceful aura that had settled over the house that he had only ever thought he’d get by himself.