Twisted Affair Vol. 5 (7 page)

I considered telling him no, but I didn't. Instead, I stepped aside and let him enter. I'd be damned if I was going to offer him something to drink though.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as I walked back into the kitchen. If he wanted to yell at me, he could damn well do it while I finished what I was doing.

“I came to tell you that I’m proud of you.”

I stopped mid-step and nearly stumbled. I turned to stare at him. I had to have misheard him. “Excuse me?”

“I'm proud of you for standing up to me, for thinking of someone first. I never thought I'd see it.”

I frowned at him, unsure if I should be pleased or insulted.

“You don't have to prove anything anymore,” he said, looking rather pleased with himself for the pronouncement. “You don't have to stay with her. I was telling the truth that I like her. I'll make sure she gets the best treatment possible. But she's not your responsibility. I'll void your contract. As long as you don't return to your previous ways, your inheritance is safe.”

I snorted a laugh. “You really weren't listening, were you? This isn't about my inheritance or an allowance. It's not about this place or any of this shit. It's about her. I love her. It's not an act.” I raked my hand through my hair. “And if having her means I'm no longer a part of the Westmore family, then so be it. I'll get a job. We'll make due. I'm not giving her up.”

I waited for the inevitable lecture about how family always came first, but instead, he smiled. “Impressive,” he said. “I really didn't think you had it in you.”

An image flashed in front of my eyes, a simple one really, but one that made me realize I didn't have to do this anymore. Eyes a deep, rich green, full of love...and belief. In me.

“You know, Dad, growing up, I just wanted you to be proud of me.” I shook my head. “But you made it pretty clear from a young age that I was just a disappointment. Now, I have someone who believes in me and I see that you're wrong. You've always been wrong. And I don't care anymore what you think of me.”

For the first time in my life, I saw shock on my father's face. “Blayne, I–”

I held up a hand. “I don't want to hear it. I'm waiting for my wife to come home so we can spend a pleasant weekend together. I think you should go now.”

He stared at me. “You want me to leave?”

“I do,” I said firmly. “And if you want to fix this, make us family again, it's going to take a hell of a lot more than saying you're impressed by me standing up for myself.”

He was silent for a moment, and then nodded. “I'll speak to you sometime this week. Perhaps we can discuss a time when you and Livie could come over for dinner.”

“Maybe,” I said.

I saw him to the door, wondering how sincere his sentiments were. It would've been nice to think that we could make things work. That Livie and I could be a part of a family that didn't think I was a loser. I shook my head as I walked back into the kitchen. It didn't matter what happened with my father. I had Samuel and Hannah and the kids. I had Livie. She was my family.

I'd just finished putting the final touches on the meal when Livie came in. I made her leave her things in the living room so we could eat before it got cold. We didn't really talk while we ate, but there was no need to. There was something between us, that nonverbal communication that two people sometimes had. Neither of us wanted to break it and so we left it to lingering looks and the occasional brush of fingers. By the time we were done, however, the tension had shifted to something thick and sexual.

I stood and held out my hand. “I don't know about you, but I think clean-up can wait. Right now, I'd like nothing more than to take a shower and then spend the rest of the day in bed with you.” I grew serious for a moment as I gave her the choice I'd promised. “But if you want to take things slow...”

She stood and pulled her shirt over her head, dropping it onto the floor. Her bra was plain white cotton but the sight of those magnificent breasts made me instantly and almost painfully hard.

“Shower, then bed,” she said as she slid her hand into mine.

I threaded my fingers between hers and the two of us headed for the bathroom. I was tempted, as I watched her undress, to take her right there, but I wanted to take things slow. As we stood under the spray together, I did just that. I washed her hair, enjoying lathering her in the scent of my body wash, knowing that she would smell like her and me. I'd never thought of myself as the kind of man who wanted to think of someone as his, but Livie definitely brought it out in me.

After we'd finished rinsing off, we took turns drying each other, lingering far longer than we had in the shower. By the time I wrapped my own towel around my waist, I knew I would have to spend some quality time making her come with my mouth and fingers before I could have sex, or I'd end up embarrassing myself.

Not that I minded in the least.

I looked down at her as she stretched out on the bed, opening her towel to bare herself to me. I wondered, again, how I'd gotten so lucky.

I reached down and traced her tattoo with my finger, my eyes flicking up to her face to see if it bothered her. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes, but a small smile curved her lips. She put her hand over mine and squeezed. I understood what she was feeling without her having to say it. No matter how much or how little of Katka remained in her, it would always be the two of them.

I smiled at her as I settled between her legs. I'd meant what I'd said. I loved her, all of her. And I fully intended to show her just how much.

The first pass of my tongue made her shudder and I gripped her hips more tightly. Water from the shower still clung to a few fine hairs and I licked them off before dipping my tongue between her folds. She made a noise halfway between a whimper and a moan, and a surge of pride went through me. I loved that I could make her sound that way.

“Blayne,” she breathed my name as I began to tease her clit with my tongue.

When I took the sensitive flesh between my lips, she cried out, her legs coming up as I held her hips in place. Her hands buried themselves in my hair, pulling and pushing even as her first orgasm hit her. Her body quaked but I didn't let up, increasing the gentle suction to draw out her climax.

She said something in Czech that I took to be encouragement, and I continued to pleasure her. I wanted to feel her come apart, lose control. I'd made her come before and the orgasms had been genuine, I was sure of it, but I'd still sensed something holding back.

I raised my head as I felt her body start to tense again. “Let go, my Liv. I've got you.”

She tugged at my hair. “Please,
moje láska
.”

“How can I refuse?” I smiled and flicked my tongue against her clit before taking it between my lips. Two pulls of my mouth and her back arched, body shaking. She cried out my name and I could feel that last little bit of restraint cracking.

Even as she was still coming, I moved up her body. My cock was aching and I couldn't wait anymore. Her pussy was still spasming as I entered her with one swift stroke. She swore, her nails clawing at my back. Her body moved against mine, meeting me thrust for thrust, driving me deeper than before.

“Let go, my Liv,” I murmured against her mouth. I nipped at her bottom lip. “Give me all of you.”

I saw it in her eyes, watched as the last of the walls crumbled. Her climax hit her even as mine did, the force of it taking us both by surprise. I took her mouth, swallowing her cries even as she swallowed mine. I held her tightly to me, her legs wrapped around my waist, our bodies as intimately joined as two people could be. This, I knew, was what people meant by two people becoming one. She was my Kat and my Liv. Mine. And I was hers.

We stayed in bed for hours, sometimes just laughing and talking. Sometimes cuddling, then making love. There was no need to rush, no worrying about getting caught or anything urgent we needed to do.

I didn't know what time it was when we were both finally spent, but breakfast seemed like eons away. Still, I tucked Liv more tightly against me and kissed her temple. She laughed as my stomach growled.

“Perhaps we should get something to eat,” she suggested.

“I don't know about you,” I said. “But I'm not entirely sure I could move right now.”

She laughed again. “Me either.”

Silence fell and I wondered if she had fallen asleep. Then she spoke, her voice thick with sleep. “I never imagined I would marry.”

“Me, either.” I brushed hair back from her face.

“But I think I like being a wife.”

I kissed her temple again. “And I like being a husband.” It was true, and the realization made me smile. “I like being your husband.” My arms wrapped around her more securely. “I love you, my wife.”

She was almost under as she replied, “And I love you, my husband.”

Epilogue: Six Weeks Later

Blayne

When my father had first set up his conditions, he'd promised that if Livie and I wanted, we could have a real wedding ceremony. Neither of us had cared much at first, but when the marriage had become real, I'd asked Livie if she'd wanted something, and we'd both agreed that we did. We'd gone to my parents and reached a compromise. Livie would be allowed to plan without interference from my mother, and my parents could invite whoever they wanted.

As I stood at the front of the church and watched Livie walk towards me, I was glad we'd done just that. She'd designed her own dress, of course, and I knew it would be one of the things everyone would be talking about. I loved the dress, the way it hugged her body, but that was secondary in my mind. Once my eyes locked with hers, I didn't see anything else.

Everyone knew we were already married so we'd changed the ceremony slightly, but the words didn't matter. I repeated what I was supposed say and then recited the vows I'd written. My eyes burned, but I didn't try to push the tears back, letting them spill over. I'd asked her to be open with me, to let me see her. I owed her the same, and everyone else was just in the background.

Her own eyes were shining with tears as she said her own vows, her accent thickening as her emotions got ahold of her. In the past six weeks, she was coming into herself. She still didn't remember all of the things she had done as Katka, but their personalities were merging. Livie was the dominant, obviously, but she had become more relaxed, more sure of herself in a different way.

No one aside from my father knew the whole truth of her condition, and no one who hadn't been at my family dinner even knew that there was anything wrong. As far as Philadelphia society was concerned, the Westmores' black sheep had married a Czech immigrant in a hurry, but was actually trying to straighten up and do the right thing.

I was sure there were plenty more detailed rumors floating around, but I didn't care. People could think whatever they wanted about me. Then again, with everything else that had been happening in our little social circle, Livie and I weren't exactly the biggest story.

My brother's affair with Rebecca Stirling had come out, which had also made my parents look on me with a bit more favor. Delphine had eventually forgiven him, but it had been touch and go for a couple of days. I personally thought she should've knocked him on his ass, but hey, that was their marriage. The only thing she had done was ask my parents to make sure Rebecca Stirling wouldn't be at the wedding. I had to say, I'd been relieved that my mother had said she'd already taken care of it.

Mr. and Mrs. Stirling were there, I realized when they quickly shook my hand in the receiving line, but they looked very much like they were trying to fade into the background. Based on what I'd heard, it didn't surprise me. The business Rebecca had been running was bought out by another wealthy Philadelphian family. The Atwoods, I thought.

They were here too, I saw later at the reception. Their own black sheep, Julien, was there with his girlfriend, Piper. There had been some stories about them too, but she seemed like a nice girl. Even though I didn't know him very well, I'd always liked Julien.

About halfway through the evening, I found myself at their table. Also there was a young man who looked vaguely familiar. Golden blond hair, eyes so dark they almost looked black. Reed Stirling was older than Rebecca, but younger than me. I'd seen him around, but I didn't really know him. Even so, I could tell he didn't look the same.

“Congratulations,” he said, holding out his hand.

I shook it. “Reed.” I pulled up something I'd heard. “You're back. Europe, was it?”

He nodded grimly.

“He was just about to tell us why he looked more like he'd come back from a funeral rather than a trip to Europe,” Julien said.

Reed shook his head. “Love can change a person.”

Judging by the way Piper's cheeks flushed and how Julien shifted towards her, I guessed there was some serious history there. Reed confirmed it.

“Not you, Piper.” He gave her a half-smile. “No offense. I'm talking about someone else.” He sighed. “Someone I met while I was gone. She was everything I wanted. Everything I needed. And I lost her.”

As Livie came up and caught my hand to pull me over to another table, I heard Reed start to tell his story.

- The End -

Find out what happened to Reed in his own brand new series, Exotic Desires, coming in April...