One Night Only
I closed my eyes and muttered a curse. Being with Savannah had opened up a part of my artistry that had been locked away for years, giving me the ability to focus better than I had in a long time. Of course, that didn't mean I wasn't occasionally interrupted by the need to take her again even in the middle of what I was working on.
I'd never been with a woman I craved so much. Even though I had plans for us tonight, I wasn't sure I could avoid fucking her at least once before we started our games. Just the thought of burying myself inside her was enough to make me hard.
"Jace?"
Her voice came from the front foyer a moment before the door closed behind her. I'd given her a spare key and the alarm code a month ago, so I didn't have to worry about being so caught up in my work that I left her standing outside in the summer heat.
"In here!"
I didn't wait for her to come to me though. All of my planning and my preparation had heated my blood too much. I caught her in the connecting corridor, my mouth coming down hard on hers. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and when I boosted her up, her legs went around my waist, her skirt pushing up past her hips. She made a sound in the back of her throat as she rocked against me, the friction nearly painful against my cock. I gripped her hair tight as I bit down on her bottom lip, but even though I knew both actions had to sting, the moan that escaped was only one of pleasure.
I reached down, and with a quick tug, ripped off her panties, leaving her bare against my knuckles as I undid my pants. A moment later, I was inside her, driving up into her as she cried my name over and over. This wasn't about Domination or submission, about control or pain, or anything other than the fact that I simply couldn't stand being near her and not being inside her.
Only a few minutes later, I pressed my face against her neck, and buried myself deep, coming with a muffled groan. When she exploded around me a moment later, I wondered if maybe there was something to Erik's change of heart after all.
As I lowered Savannah to her feet, I pushed the errant thought to the back of my mind. I didn't want to go there. Savannah and I were enjoying each other, that was all.
I kept my face turned away as I picked up her discarded panties and shoved them into my pocket. As I straightened, I tucked myself back into my pants but didn't bother completely doing them up. I didn't plan on either of us wearing much of anything once we were done with dinner. Having her now had only whetted my appetite, and I knew it would take most of the night to satisfy it. If it could be satisfied at all.
"Would you like some champagne?" I asked as I gestured toward the kitchen.
She followed me, apparently lost in her own thoughts. Neither one of us said anything until we each had a full glass of champagne and were carrying plates over to the smaller kitchen table.
"I had an interesting call after work today."
I glanced at her, but she wasn't looking at me. In fact, there was a strange expression on her face that I hadn't seen before. She took a drink from her glass, then raised her eyes to meet mine.
"Who was it?"
She swallowed hard. "It was your mother."
I stared at her, thinking I must have heard her wrong. She knew about my past and all the things my mother had and hadn't done. How she'd left me behind. How she'd chosen other people and herself over me. Hell, I even told Sav the whole truth about what happened with my sculpting. How it'd been my mother's birthday when I tried to surprise her with a present I made. How the guy had thrown it against the wall, nearly hitting me with it, and how my mom's reaction had been to throw it all away after the guy left.
Savannah knew all of that, and still, she talked to her.
"I don't know how she got my number, or how she knew I was doing a story on you, but she called me and–"
"What the hell were you thinking?" I snapped as I grabbed her arms, giving her a little shake. "Just because we've been fucking for a couple weeks doesn't mean you can introduce yourself to my fucking mother. What did you tell her about us?"
She yanked away, but not before I saw a flash of pain under the fury in her eyes. "Nothing. She didn't ask about anything like that." She took a step back. "All she wanted was to know if I could get a message to you, to ask you to call her."
Ever since Savannah and I made up after the incident at the restaurant, I'd ignored the handful of calls and texts I'd gotten from my mom. Every one of them said she wanted something. She hadn't even been subtle about it, though she hadn't said what this something was.
"I'm not interested." Everything inside me had gone cold at first, but I was hot again. "Why didn't you hang up as soon as she identified herself? Didn't you think it was even a little bit strange that she would track you down?" I held up a hand before Savannah could offer whatever flimsy excuse she'd planned. "Never mind. I already know the answer. You're a fucking reporter. Of course you can't mind your own fucking business."
Shock and hurt registered, and then it all disappeared. Her face went blank, and her voice was flat as she spoke, "Your mom said it was important. Life or death. I thought you should know."
"It's always important with my mother," I countered as I turned away from her. My head was spinning, stomach roiling.
How had things taken such a horrible turn so fast? I'd been planning a night of decadent pleasure for the two of us, and now I didn't want to even look at her. How could she betray me like that?
Or, the better question, how could I have let her get close enough to me that it would hurt when she showed her true colors? How could I have believed that she was different from any other woman? Different from Bianca?
"Get out."
The words dropped into the silence, and I waited to hear her argument about why she wouldn't leave, why I should listen to whatever excuses she planned to give. Instead, I heard the click of her heels on tile, growing fainter and fainter until they disappeared. When the door closed, I knew it was over, and I only had myself to blame for all of it.
Twenty-Four
Savannah
Everett had spent the night at Cal's, so I'd spent the night drinking alone. Which was good, considering I hadn't been in any mood to listen to my best friend tell me that he'd been right. He tried to warn me. Lei and Lorde had too. They told me they wanted me to be happy, but I knew they'd never fully forgiven him for how he treated me before.
The moment he attacked me for speaking to his mother, I wished I'd listened to them.
I wished I'd never forgiven him, that I'd walked away when he apologized for his behavior. But no, I'd believed that he'd changed, believed that I could trust him. People made mistakes. Jumping to a conclusion once was understandable, even as far as Jace had taken things, but after spending nearly three weeks together, the fact that he could turn on a dime like that...
I took a slow breath and blew it out just as slowly. The cab's air conditioning was on high this afternoon – no surprise considering it was the first of August – and the cold air cooled me off as it filled my lungs. I'd gotten drunk enough last night to have a killer headache when I woke this morning, and enough alcohol lingered in my system that I was still a little nauseous. Worse, it meant that my emotions were still a bit too close to the surface.
I probably should have still been in bed, getting more hydrated and watching sappy rom coms with Everett, but the first thing I thought after the painkillers kicked in was that I had something I needed to do.
The café wasn't far from my apartment, but it was too hot to walk, especially when half-hungover from a fairly cheap bottle of wine. I ordered my usual Iced Chestnut Praline Latte, then looked around for the woman I'd come here to meet.
"Miss Birch?"
I turned to see a woman a couple inches taller than me, early fifties, but trying to look much younger. She was thin as well, but the kind that came from dieting too much to be healthy.
She didn't really look like Jace, but I had no doubt as to who she was.
"Ms. Randell." I put out my hand and she shook it. Or, rather, she
put her limp, cold hand in mine and let me do the shaking.
"I have a table over here," she said.
I followed her, telling myself that I'd done the right thing by coming here. Jace may have turned out to be an asshole, but I believed his mother when she said it was a matter of life and death. If anything, the way he treated me made me think that maybe he was overly harsh about his mom too. But even if he was correct in assuming that she was exaggerating the importance of what she wanted to talk to him about, I wasn't going to let him use me to blow her off.
I hadn't intended to stay, but something in her eyes made me think that I should hear her out. I hadn't been too happy with my gut's judgement recently, but I decided to trust it here. If nothing else, I'd enjoy my latte and have some closure.
When we reached the back booth, I was surprised to see that it wasn't empty. The girl had short, rust-colored curls, and the sort of pale skin that made me think she was ill. She also looked enough like Veronica Randell for me to suspect that Jace had a half-sister. One I was almost certain he knew nothing about.
"Miss Birch," Veronica began.
"Savannah, please." I felt too much like it was work when she used my surname, and despite what Jace thought, I wasn't going to use anything I learned here in my article. Nor did I have any intention of sharing private information with Ms. Randell.
Veronica nodded as she slid into the booth next to her daughter. "Savannah, this is my daughter, Iggy."
I wasn't a journalist as much as an art critic, but I'd spent enough time interviewing people for human interest stories that I'd learned to read how to best get the information I wanted from my sources. Veronica was practically vibrating with her need to share, so I kept quiet rather than asking questions.
"Jace doesn't know about her," Veronica blurted out.
Iggy flushed, her eyes flicking to my face and then back down to the table. Her eyes were hazel like her mother's, but there was a sweetness in them that I didn't see in Veronica.
"I'm not proud of all the decisions I've made in my life," Veronica continued after a deep breath. "But I love my kids."
I nodded even though I wanted to comment on how poorly she demonstrated that love with her son. It wasn't my place, and if I was going to be more honest with myself than I had been lately, it had never been my place. Jace and I hadn't been dating. We'd been fucking.
I pushed that thought, and the pain that went with it, to the back of my mind.
"I know I've asked Jace for a lot over the years, and it's mostly been selfish reasons, but it's been for Iggy too." She put her hand on her daughter's arm. "Her father's not a part of her life. I got involved with him when he was married, and when I got pregnant, he ended things. He gave me a chunk of money to stay away and never contact him again."
Judging by the lack of surprise on Iggy's face, this wasn't the first time she heard the story of how she'd been conceived, but the way her ears were turning red told me that it still bothered her. Veronica, not surprisingly, kept talking as if everything she was saying was merely backstory that needed to come out before she could get to her real reason for being here.
"A couple weeks ago, Iggy went into the hospital and–" Veronica's voice cracked, and it was Iggy's turn to comfort her mother.
"I have chronic lymphocytic leukemia." Iggy's voice was soft but unwavering. "It's...I need a bone marrow transplant."
"And Jace is your half-brother," I said, leaning back in my seat. Shit. This was not what I expected when I agreed to meet Veronica this morning.
Iggy nodded. "I don't know if he's a match, but Mom isn't, and my dad..." She lifted her chin, a familiar stubborn glint coming into her eyes. "I don't want Jace's money, and I understand if he doesn't want to meet me, but if he'd just agree to be tested..." She shrugged, looking as helpless as I felt.
"It's advanced." Veronica picked things back up. "So, the chances of her finding a non-relative match before–"
The tears came now, and no matter how shitty of a mother she'd been to Jace, I had no doubt this show of grief was real. Even if it wasn't, I wouldn't let a child suffer because her mother was immature, and her brother was a jackass. My own feelings and pride didn't matter, not when compared to this girl's life. I'd do whatever I needed to do to get her the help she needed.
Twenty-Five
Jace
This sucked.
For the first time, I actually had true sympathy for what Alix had been going through this past month. He'd gotten involved with someone he shouldn't have and found inspiration in her...and then she left him, taking his inspiration with her.
Technically, Savannah hadn't left me, but she had betrayed me, so I counted it the same.
I'd already finished several pieces for the show, and even though I preferred not to, I'd use them if I must, but I was done making them. I wouldn't touch another piece of clay again. I shouldn't have gone back to it in the first place. I was a talented painter, and that would be enough. It had been enough for more than twenty years.
Except now I was back to where I was before she came. Standing in front of my paint-spattered canvas, waiting for something to strike.
I'd been tempted to drink myself stupid last night, if only so I didn't have to think about what happened, but I'd been too cautious, too concerned that I'd lose sight of all the reasons why I'd been right to end things and I'd go after her. I'd tell her that I still wanted her, despite what she'd done.
So I hadn't gotten drunk. But I'd needed something to distract me. I considered going to Gilded Cage, but the very thought of being with another woman turned my stomach. And since art hadn't offered me a refuge, I turned to physical activity. I'd fallen asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow...only to wake two hours later from the most intense erotic dream I'd ever experienced.
That was pretty much how my night had gone until dawn when I'd finally given up on real sleep. Things hadn't gotten better once I got up though. I'd shoved everything related to sculpting into the studio closet and pulled out my painting supplies.
And that's pretty much where I'd been stuck.
When my phone rang, I was frustrated enough that I snatched it up without even looking at the screen. "What?"
There was a pause, then a familiar voice. "Damn, what's stuck up your ass?"
"Alix?"
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." I closed my eyes. "Sorry. I didn't sleep well last night. What's up?"
Another pause, and I could almost hear him debating whether or not to push the matter. Fortunately, he decided not was the better path to take.
"Can you meet up in an hour at Café Carlyle? I have important news to share, but I want to do it in person."
It wasn't until after I agreed and ended the call that it hit me. Alix sounded happy. He hadn't sounded happy in a long time, which meant that something had changed. Maybe he'd started taking pictures again. Which meant that I had hope for my own work.
When I arrived at the café, my friends were already there. I'd had to clean up, and traffic had been a bitch, so it'd taken me longer to get there than it should have. Alix was beaming from ear to ear as I sat down, clearly eager to share his news.
"Sine's back."
All three of us stared at him, but it was the still simmering anger inside me that made me speak first. "How is that a good thing?"
His eyes grew darker, but he didn't snap at me. Instead, his voice got strangely soft. "Her mother collapsed. That's why Sine left. She didn't think to tell me until her plane landed in Ireland, and by then..."
His expression twisted with a dozen different emotions, not the least of which was self-loathing. Then he shook his head and took a long drink of whatever was in his cup.
"None of that matters, not anymore. She came back yesterday and told me everything. We worked it out."
"I'm glad for you," Erik said, tapping his thumb on the table. "Really, I am, but I'm not sure why this was–"
"She's pregnant."
He could have
dropped a bomb and it wouldn't have had more of an effect. This time, it wasn't me who spoke first, but Erik. He only said Alix's name, but it seemed to jar his cousin out of the slight daze his announcement had left him in.
"She flew back as soon as she found out," he said and looked at each of us in turn. "And I proposed."
"Fuck," I breathed as the other two seemed to struggle to know what to say.
That girl had practically destroyed Alix by leaving him without a word, then she came back, announced she was pregnant, and now they were getting married. Was I the only one thinking this was an awful idea?
Erik leaned back in his seat. "I have to admit, Alix, I'm a bit surprised."
That was one way to put it.
"Sounds like you're rushing things," Reb added. "I mean, you've only known her what, two months, and she was gone for one of them?"
"Why do you even believe her?" All eyes turned toward me, and any other time, I would've stopped there, but my head wasn't exactly on straight at the moment. "She could've been with some other guy, found out she was pregnant, and decided to try to pass the kid off as yours."
"Jace," Erik snapped.
Even Reb looked shocked, which was saying something because he was usually even more cynical of women than I was.
Alix, however, didn't looked pissed, which freaked me out almost as much as his little announcement had.
"I'm the one who fucked up," he said. "Rather than trust that she had a good reason to do what she did, I jumped to conclusions, lashed out, and made the stupidest decision of my life."
I almost winced as that hit way too close to home. "You at least asked for a paternity test, right? I mean, please tell me you're at least being smart about this."
To my surprise, he actually laughed. "You really don't get it, do you? There's being smart, and then there's having your head so far up your ass that you miss out on the best thing that ever happened to you." He leaned back in his chair, his expression growing even more serious even though the new light didn't leave his eyes. "I love her. I loved her pretty much from the moment I saw her. And I didn't stop, not even when I was furious at what I thought she did. It killed me when I realized what really happened. And when she forgave me, when she said she loved me..."