Uncensored Passion (Men of Passion) (19 page)

J.J. said, “I’ll get it. Are you expecting someone, Kayla?”

“No.”

“Whoever it is, I’ll get rid of them.”

* * *

Trey’s inner strife and lack of sleep had produced a raging headache that two maximum-strength Tylenols hadn’t alleviated in the least. And now that he stood before Kayla’s door, the pounding was keeping cadence with the refrain—tell the truth—don’t tell the truth—tell her you love her—don’t tell her yet.

Trey was surprised, to say the least, when the door was answered by J.J. He knew immediately that’s who it was, because he was a younger, handsomer version of his father, with the same intense, dark-eyed stare as he asked, “Can I help you?”

“Ah—I came to see Kayla Saradon.”

“Is she expecting you?”

“No.”

They stared at each other. Trey suddenly had the uneasy feeling that Dr. Romero’s suspicions were truer than he wanted them to be.

Why is J.J. answering the door in his bathrobe, if they aren’t?

“Can I tell her what you need to see her about? First of all, what’s your name, pal?”

Trey almost gave his real name. He caught himself in time. “Tell her Devon Walker would like to speak with her, please.”

“Dr. Saradon doesn’t receive patients at home.”

“I’m not a patient. I’m—ah—a reporter. I’m doing an article on Dr. Saradon. I believe she’ll see me if you give her the message.”

J.J. frowned at him, his eyes suddenly raking him up and down critically. Trey witnessed a flash of what he perceived to be anger that J.J. didn’t even try to disguise as he muttered, “Wait here.”

He shut the door in his face. Trey stood outside waiting, silently cursing himself for continuing the deception of being a reporter, even though he was beginning to believe Kayla was perhaps a master of her own brand of deception.

His stomach roiled as he thought about J.J. being with Kayla. If he wasn’t being intimate with her, why was he in her house this time of morning and in his bathrobe?

When the door opened again, it was Kayla, in her bathrobe, as well, looking tired, as though she hadn’t slept any better than he had. Her face was pale as she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you. There are some things we need to discuss.”

“I think we said it all.”

To gauge her reaction he asked, “Who was the kid who answered the door?”

He saw her stiffen. Saw her eyes narrow slightly, as though she had read his mind and knew his intentions before she said, “That was J.J. He’s my pool boy.”

“Did he just go for a swim?” Trey asked sarcastically.

“Swim? Oh, you mean because he’s wearing a bathrobe. I don’t know. He joined us for breakfast this morning. We are all informal here and we all have Sunday breakfast together.”

Trey frowned.

We? Who the hell else is here?
Masking his inner rage, he asked, “Can I come in?”

She hesitated long enough that Trey wondered if she would deny him entrance before she stepped back.

Trey moved into the impressive foyer, his gaze taking in the opulent surroundings—winding staircase—picture-perfect living room to the right—crystal chandelier above a large mahogany dining room table to the left.

Then he saw the four men who had emerged from what he believed was probably the kitchen, through the dining room. They all wore bathrobes and now they were all studying him with a mixture of curiosity and dislike. At least Trey was certain dislike was what he felt emanating from J.J. as the boy glared at him. He stared back at them just as intently.

Seeing his shocked expression, Kayla turned and saw all her guys standing there, watching. With a resigned breath, she decided to do away with some kind of stock explanation and instead said simply, “Devon Walker, I’d like you to meet the special men in my life.”

She pointed to each as she introduced them. Then to them all she said, “Guys, this is Devon Walker, a reporter with
Your Health Today
magazine. He came to Nashville to interview me for an article he’s writing.”

The men nodded at each other.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Lee asked, to break the awkward silence.

“Yes, Devon, please follow us into the kitchen,” Kayla said. “Lee is a professional chef and makes the best coffee.”

She led the way and they followed. They all took a seat at the expansive island while Lee poured Devon a cup of coffee. As he handed it to him, Trey asked, “How long have you been a chef?”

“A while. My love of cooking has served me well. I own the
Le Petit Cochon
restaurant chain. One of my favorite meals to prepare is breakfast, and Kayla has one of the best kitchens I’ve ever had the pleasure of cooking in, outside of my own in the first restaurant I opened, of course.”

Trey had been studying the man hard, something niggling in the back of his mind. He had seen this big guy before. Suddenly he recognized who he was and couldn’t hide his shock as he asked, “You’re Raymond Lee Harris, aren’t you?”

“Guilty. I used to be. Well, I still am,” Lee amended with a laugh, “except now I am just plain Chef Lee, who is what I always wanted to be. I gave up wrestling after the accident.”

“I remember reading about that. Glad to see you’re all right. I never would have thought of you as a chef, but I also read that you now own that chain of restaurants.”

“That’s right,” Lee said.

“He’s the best,” Kayla said. “Creates magic in the kitchen.”

Her words drew Trey’s attention back to her, and their eyes locked again. Trey read the suddenly stiff backbone, the defiance in the lift of an eyebrow and the set of her jaw. He could almost hear her saying,
so what? It’s my life and I live it the way I choose. I told you that
.

Now he understood what Dr. Romero had seen that day and what he’d thought. He was thinking the same thing. And with a twisting pain, he silently acknowledged the truth of it.

Kayla’s expertise in the many ways to arouse and satisfy a man filtered through the rising haze of anger in Trey’s mind. He hadn’t wanted to think of the woman he loved being with another man, much less four!

Kayla offered him a half smile as their eyes held. Again, Trey was pretty sure he knew what she wasn’t saying.

It is what it is, and it’s none of your business.

To hide his growing agitation, he sipped the coffee, pulling his eyes off Kayla and focusing on the cup as though it might leap from his hand. He was aware the other men were exchanging glances. That they had become aware of the obvious mounting tension between him and Kayla.

It was J.J., with the impetuous impudence of youth, who asked, “So you’re the appointment Kayla had yesterday and last night?”

“Yes.”

Trey caught the look that passed between Kayla and the man called Harm.

Lee tried to diffuse the situation by asking, “Have you had breakfast? We just finished, but I could whip you up some eggs. And there are some biscuits left.”

“No, thanks. I just needed to clarify some things with Kayla before I leave town.”

“You’re leaving town today?” J.J. asked, his tone suddenly more pleasant as he digested that news.

“Yes.”

Kayla straightened her shoulders and kept her facial expression void as she asked, “What clarification do you need?”

“Perhaps we could talk in private.”

“Of course. Guys, if you’ll excuse us, please.”

They nodded and left the room, all with another long look at Trey.

Kayla said, “Let’s go into the den.” She led the way and Trey followed mutely. When the door of the den closed behind them, Kayla turned to him. “You shouldn’t have come here, Devon.”

“I thought we left things unsettled. I needed to hear the truth, Kayla. Only now I think I know it. But I also need to tell
you
the truth.”

“You haven’t told the truth?”

“You first. Those four men I just met, they aren’t just friends or tenants, are they?”

“Yes, they are.” Then with a shrug, she admitted, “And much more.”

“Let’s talk about the ‘more’ part.”

“Devon, you have no right to question me about my personal life.”

“Kayla, what we had—have—gives me that right. Don’t say it doesn’t.”

With a sigh she said, “Have a seat, Devon, and let’s get everything out in the open.”

He sat down on the couch, expecting her to sit beside him, but she didn’t. She took a chair opposite him and leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees, her green eyes boring into his. Yet what he couldn’t keep his own eyes off of was the flesh exposed as her bathrobe opened, and he saw she was wearing nothing underneath.

“Have you ever heard of polyandry, Devon?”

He shook his head.

Kayla got up, crossed the room to the bookcase, and retrieved the dictionary. She looked up the word and handed him the book.

“Read. Out loud, please.”

“Polyandry. The custom of having more than one husband at a time. Having multiple male mates.”

He slammed the book shut with a muttered expletive and tossed it to the side. “So you’re a bigamist?”

“No. We shared a verbal commitment ceremony but no legal marriages. We are all here because we believe in the polyandry lifestyle, Devon. Those four men you met are wonderful and they all love me, and I love them. We have an open, honest, and happy home. That’s more than most people ever get to say, or share. You should understand that better than anyone.”

“How does this work, exactly? Sharing the same bed, like the Samsons?” He grated bitterly.

Kayla flinched. “No! Never like that. We may have threesomes occasionally, but everyone is okay with it. Otherwise, we just schedule our times together. Saturday is usually our together time when we all try to relax together despite any outside commitments we may have. So, if you felt a touch of animosity from them, it’s probably because they resent your interfering with our Saturday time yesterday. Sunday is our time of abstinence and rest.”

“And no doubt you need it!”

His words stung. Kayla fought back her tears. “I knew you wouldn’t understand, Devon. That’s what I meant by we live in two different worlds. After you told me what you expected in your future, that wife and children and that white picket fence, I knew it would never work between us. I’m happy in my world, Devon, and I don’t want it to change. If you could accept it, be a part of us, and if the guys could accept you, we could be so happy.”

“The guys accept me? So how would that work? They would vote on me? Discuss my physical attributes?” He snarled. “Seems to me you’ve run out of nights to share fucking time, Kayla! Tell me, how did you wring the jealousy out of those guys?”

“I didn’t do anything. They knew and accepted the situation as it is—as it has to be if we are all to live in harmony. That is a firm requirement. We all love each other and share.”

“Share? You mean like in orgy sharing?” he asked starkly. “Damn, and to think I was beating myself up for telling you what happened at the Samsons. I thought that was what had turned you off, but actually, it probably turned you on. Right?”

“That isn’t fair, Devon, and you know it. No, we do not have orgies. Harm’s night with me is Monday, Lee —”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear that.” Trey felt like his head was exploding.

“Devon, I knew you wouldn’t understand. I knew you wanted a one-man, one-woman relationship, and I can’t do that. I love all those guys. And I—I love you, too,” she admitted. “I wish you had it in you to share in the way we do. Wish you would choose to join us.”

“I don’t think I can do that, Kayla. It would drive me crazy to think about you with any of them when I couldn’t be with you.”

“Maybe if you got to know them—see how great they are, how sweet and unselfish and caring they are—”

“I suppose I am being what you consider selfish,” he interrupted. “But I want the woman I love to love just me. I want to know that I’m enough for her—for you. And I guess it’s obvious that I do love you, Kayla, but I can’t live like this. And frankly, I don’t understand how any of those guys—if they really do love you—can, either. Tell me about J.J. Isn’t he too young for you?” He asked harshly, ignoring her flash of pain, though he felt it inside as though she had struck him.

“J.J. is very special. He was terribly unhappy at home and didn’t want to be pushed into being something he didn’t want to be. His father is arrogant and domineering. No one coerced him into anything. He answered the ad for the pool boy position and, well, he hit it off with the guys and things just fell into place from there. He’s happy here, and he tells me it’s the first time in his life he has been.”

“I don’t doubt it. What teenager wouldn’t want a live-in, convenient fuck who pays the bills and keeps him satisfied?”

Trey knew his words cut her. He saw her wince again, saw the tears gathering that she swiped away. But in that moment of shared pain, he didn’t care. He wanted to hurt her as he was hurting.

“Well, guess it’s time for my truth now. First of all, I’m not a reporter and I don’t work for
Your Health Today
. So sorry that your story won’t get published. At least not by me. And my name isn’t even Devon Walker. My name is Trey Cameron. I’m a private investigator working for a firm out of San Antonio. I was hired by J.J.’s father to find out what is going on with him, why he refused to return to college or go home, to find out if something outrageous is going on here that keeps him from wanting to return to San Antonio, and I guess I found that out.”

Kayla gasped as her face whitened.

“But don’t worry. I might be a liar, but I’m not a bastard. Oh, correction, I guess I literally
am
a bastard, but not so much that I’ll report what I’ve found, that his suspicions are true. I wouldn’t do that to you, Kayla.

“Having met J.J.’s father, I can understand the kid’s not wanting to go back and be under his thumb again. But I have to warn you, just because I don’t report it, don’t think Dr. Romero is going to give up. He’ll probably send someone else to dig up the dirt and, unless you sleep with him, too, in such a way he can’t stand the thought of hurting you, he’ll report the truth and things will escalate from there.”