we were one once book 2: "A Dark Romance" (2 page)

“We didn’t live here. We did live with him. It was long ago and not like this. Not like we are with you.” That’s it. That’s all I’m going to get?! She closes her lips and pleads with her eyes, a fear creeping into them that I know well. She’s afraid that she hasn’t pleased me. I let go of my anger and smile more. I know she lived with him. That’s something, I guess.

But knowing that another man had her, had Red, had any part of her…I’m not faking as my look hardens more, matching the hardness I place at the entrance to her. I decide to be cruel, to give in to my inner demon that likes toying with her, likes taking her to the edge of her submission, her willingness to give up control so easily. I know another man had her willingness once, even as I know he was no match for me with Red…I don’t care, jealousy is what drives me now.

I put my finger, the one still wearing her wetness, to her lips. “You won’t make a sound. You won’t move at all. And you won’t cum, Grace. You’ll only feel me as I explode inside you.” I watch her swallow and one tear escape down her cheek. But I know that even if I deny her a physical release…my warped game plays into her need to please. I’ve gotten used to dancing the line between my equal needs for cruelty and softness with Grace.

I close my eyes and push into her in one long, deep thrust. Her lips pull me, squeeze me, shudder around me, but I don’t count this as disobedience. She’s swollen from the hours I spent in her all ready. Even though she doesn’t feel the pain, her poor pussy can’t help but react to the pounding that I’m giving her now. But her arms and legs remain still, her face concentrating on not giving in to her own desires. Losing myself in watching her control, a control that I commanded…I only have a few deep, fast thrusts before I’m ready.

I fall onto her, pushed as far in as I can, my moans breathing in her hair and my body quivering her under me. “Cum for me now, Grace…give yourself to me, sweet girl.” And it’s all the permission she needs to gasp out the breath she held, her arms and legs squeezing me, her lips tightening and releasing in quick short convulsions in time with her squeaks. My need for her softness was greater than my need to be cruel tonight I guess.

I drifted off to sleep that night thinking of new ways to be cruel for her wicked secret keeping. I can almost smile now thinking that I’ll get a chance to use one of those ideas tonight. There’s one that will work perfectly with the piano actually.

But I don’t dwell on those thoughts. Not with Miles and Cary watching her. The lightning fast changes in her identities have become familiar to me, but I glance at them to see if they notice any difference in her. Both seem to just be enjoying her playing, following her delicate, long fingers flying across the keys.

Neither notice that her face has softened to an angelic wistfulness. Her eyes are half-closed and her lips are wet and slightly parted. She appears to take up less of the seat, despite moving fluidly through the music. The dress that was provocative and sexy a moment ago now appears too revealing for the shy, sweet woman filling the air with her haunting music.

Seeing Grace here in place of Red only adds to the ill feeling in my stomach. I told her that my cousin wouldn’t be the type of man I’d want her around, not until he understood how things were with us anyway. I realized the irony, but didn’t share it with her. She obeyed as she has the past weeks, without questioning. Too much at least. I knew Red could handle Cary. I wasn’t so sure
I
could handle Red around him, but it was better than the alternative.

Watching as these two men admire her now is more jealousy than my newly possessive heart can take. I have to stop my second step towards her, still imagining the satisfaction I’d get from grabbing her arms and carrying her away from here caveman style. Away from Miles Vanderson and even Cary.

But her music is calming. I allow it to have a soothing effect on me and can almost forget anyone else is in the room with us. The thought of her playing like this for me every night cools my anger enough that I can smile as she continues.

Grace always has this effect on me. Red can get my blood pumping faster than any woman I’ve known. But Grace can soothe me with equal speed. What I feel for her…fuck…for
all
of her, it’s insanity. Not for the first time today, I think I need to get my head straight, to get clear about what I want…what
she
needs.
Us
.

Grace changes the score, cutting through the repeats and seguing to the end nicely. The silence fills the large room for only a moment. Cary breaks it with loud clapping and an impressed smile to me. I note that Miles doesn’t clap, only grins at her. It bristles the hair on my neck, making me clench my jaw and fists again. He’s giving Grace a fucking predatory smile.

I relax quickly as I walk over to her, hiding her from view with my back once more. I lift her chin but her eyes aren’t the softness I’ve come to crave from her. It’s more of the fear I only glanced from Red. Her lips open, but she doesn’t say anything. Only shakes her head briefly and retreats again.

“That was beautiful, my dear.” My fingers grip the piano edge hearing Miles address her this way again. Red stands and moves around me before I can stop her though. The fear is still there, but she’s countering it with her usual aggression. She’s not frozen anymore at least.

“Thank you,” her husky voice is seductive, but I can hear the subtle shaking. I’m pleased to see that she doesn’t step near him though. He gets an eyeful of her anyway. She stands tall for her petiteness, her usual confident stance that puts all her body on full display. Normally, I like it. Normally, it’s just for me. Seeing her pose for another man makes my temples pulse. Fuck.

Cary seems to be enjoying his view too. But he lowers his eyes and turns away when he catches the menacing look on my face. Miles only smiles a little more, ignoring me still and speaking directly to Red, “Who taught you to play…Scarlet?” He stresses her name in an odd way, like a serpent hissing it.

She startles me by laughing. It’s her usual deep, sensual laugh. The one I long to capture with my fingertips and lips each time. But she cuts it short, “Oh...It’s a skill I picked up long ago. I’ve forgotten more than I care to remember.” I raise an eyebrow to her. Red isn’t flirting, but there’s something in her tone that I’m missing. Something in how she’s standing and acting that is assertive even for her.

“I’m sure you could remember if you were encouraged, my dear.” I don’t need any more encouragement to kick this guy’s ass, but he interrupts my turning around. “Are you attending the event tonight at Iron Horse?” I see Cary nod and Miles turns to me. “Then perhaps we’ll be able to discuss business more there.” He nods to me once before walking quickly out of the room.

2

“Are you alright?” It’s hard to hear Simon’s words over the chaos in my head. And he’s being quiet, keeping his voice low and near my ear. He obviously doesn’t want his cousin to overhear him.

My eyes flutter from his hands on my arms to his eyes; I finally manage a smile. His clear blue icicles crinkle in response, but I can see the worry etched on his strong features. His blond hair is more tousled from raking his fingers through it.

His hot breath on my ear sends the familiar shiver to my spine. It crystalizes my thoughts, stabilizes my hold on my body. But the sensation is gone too quickly. Simon moves away, taking his heat with him.

From that first time meeting him, fucking him…I’ve wanted more. It’s why I left his apartment so quickly. If I’d stayed, I would’ve begged him to tie me up and never let me leave his bed.

Now I wish I had. But I listened to the others in my head, all saying I had to get away. All saying that it was a bad idea to get involved with yet another man. I don’t count a few fleeting fuckscapades as getting involved, but I wasn’t in a frame of mind to argue then.

I won’t make the mistake of listening to them now though. Not tonight.

I heard Grace explain “us” to Simon. That we’re each a part and a whole by ourselves. I couldn’t have said it better myself. Except that I feel more separate, more whole, than the others. I’ve had more time to be myself than they have. I’m able to cope with all of life’s little challenges better than any of them. And I’ll make my own decisions from now on. Especially if they involve Simon. Or Miles.

The strained voices in the corner draw me back to the room, back to him. I try to concentrate on what Simon’s saying to Cary. He’s obviously mad. Cary is obviously trying to appease him. Neither man seems to know who Miles really is though. Good.

I feel a familiar ping in my head. The slapstick routine I secretly despise. It’s them. The others I share this body with. The four that occupy too much of my time. And now, too much of Simon’s. They’re all clamoring to be heard, to be seen.

I no longer uphold the transparency of our mutual lives. I keep my time with Simon to myself, mostly. In part, to protect the little ones. Mostly to keep Grace at bay. She wants him for her own selfish reasons. But he chose me for tonight and I’ll be damned if I’m giving into her demands. No matter what just happened.

Besides, I protected us once. I’ve earned the right to stay now. I’m the only one that can deal with Miles. They are all in a panic; but I can stay calm.

So what if the initial shock of seeing Miles here was enough to make me withdraw for a few moments? I was shocked enough to leave the “stage” in our mind transparent. Grace of course jumped at the opportunity to show off for Simon. She took the limelight and played her boring music for him.

Or was she really playing for Miles? This thought rolls my stomach.

I knew she wouldn’t stay long though. She’s a coward. They all are. So I’m not about to give up the stage to her now. No matter how much pressure she tries to exert.

I force my focus back onto the here and now. It always helps to keep me grounded, present. I move my hands over our body, feeling the soft fabric of the dress I chose for Simon. Rubbing the smoothness of the silk on my back against the sting of the lash marks he left last night. With a small twist of my shoulders, I can heighten the feeling.

I want to rip the dress off and demand he kiss the marks that he’s made. His lips always draw the perfect blend of cool relief tracing after his hot breath. Sometimes his teeth bring me further pain and claim a quick orgasm before I can even beg for his release. This is always met with more lashes for disobedience.

Rubbing my finger over my lips, my hunger for him replaces all traces of fear. My perfect match, my sweet darkness.
My
Trust.
My
Simon.

There. That’s better. The noise has stopped; I have the stage to myself. For now anyway. I can concentrate on what to do next.

3

“Did you see her, Mr. Vanderson?” Spencer waited inside the car, out of sight along with his three associates. I didn’t want it to seem as if I came here with an armed escort. I’m glad I chose to be low-profile. For now.

“Yes. Gillian will be at the event tonight. We’ll be able to take her there.”

Spencer nods, checking his .45 Sar K2 automatic and returning it to his concealed holster. Now that his investigation is complete, I’ve kept him on as head of a private team to safely ensure Gillian’s return to my home. He’s proved himself invaluable in this and will be just as tenacious in guarding my Gillian as he was in tracking her down.

After she disappeared in San Francisco, he wasted no time in finding her again. The connection with Simon Lamb was uncertain though. Spencer couldn’t confirm if she was with him on her own or as one of his abducted trainees. Her disappearance had been abrupt after meeting him with very little clues either way.

The thought that she was with another man was enough to push me to a homicidal rage. That she could be held to train as a sex slave for sale by that man was beyond any impulse to anger that I’d ever known before.

I warned Spencer that I would hold him personally responsible for her safe return to me, but the safety of anyone else involved was not his concern. The man may not be educated, but he certainly didn’t miss my meaning. And he’s the perfect man for the job.

His bloodhound skills came in handy uncovering everything there is to know about Simon Lamb. There weren’t a lot of details to be found though. I know now that his family is moneyed. His Mother died with his birth. His Father died when he was very young. He was raised by a doddering old Grandfather, who over indulged and allowed him to get into all sorts of trouble. But Lamb seemed to get himself under control quickly, because tales about his antics ended by the time he reached his junior year in a private college prep school. His Grandfather died shortly after and he became heir to the family wealth.

I also learned that Lamb values his privacy almost as much as I do.

Finding a contact, a way to get closer to him was still easy. A few prudently placed inquiries was all it took to get the proper introductions. Cary Lamb isn’t as cautious as his cousin.

“I’ll have the jet ready to leave tonight, Sir.” Spencer is already on his phone. I only nod and turn to watch the passing of hills silhouetted with gnarled vines against the darkening sky.

But it’s not the wine country that I see. It’s her face.

Spencer wanted to make the introductions, to keep my identity secret. But I needed to see her with my own eyes. It’s been three long years since I’ve seen Gillian. And she was exactly as I remember her. Slight and slim, her body deceptively curved with how she stands, bones jutting out appealingly, hips begging to be grasped. Her hair a wild mane of chestnut falling down her back and springing up all around her, a natural halo. Her soft full lips a shade too dark against her pale creaminess.

And her eyes. It’s her eyes I remember most. How they would dart around in fear; how they would relax and widen in perfect submission; how the deep chocolate brown was made darker with her emotions. Always so readable, always so expressive, her eyes gave everything away so easily even in her blankest looks. Tonight was no different.

I knew she wasn’t my Gillian when I walked in. I could tell by the way she stood, the set of her lips and the coolness to her eyes. But she quickly changed for me. The flash flickering between her selves happened before either Lamb could see it I’m sure.

When she obeyed my command to play the piano, I knew neither man saw the change in her. Neither man saw the
real
Gillian.
My
sweet Gillian.

Neither could see how her eyes softened, her head bowed. Neither could truly appreciate how she beautifully danced her fingers across the keys, so light and pleasing. Neither knew she learned to play just to please me.

“I’ve hired an excellent instructor to teach you classical piano. She’ll come here daily for your lessons. Starting this afternoon.” In the darkened bedroom, curtains drawn, I pick up Gillian’s hand from her bare lap. “Your fingers are too fine to not be used to their full potential.” I kiss the tip of each finger before pulling her palm up and kissing the fleshy base of her thumb, giving it a bite.

She only blinks her submission to my demand. Of course, she wouldn’t argue.

“Do you really think anyone can teach her? She’s a little old to start lessons now…” Her Mother’s voice is harsh as usual. I’d prefer to ignore her all together, but know this isn’t an option.

Putting her hand gently back down onto her lap, I cup Gillian’s face with my fingers, squeezing her cheeks against her teeth. Her eyes narrow for a moment against the discomfort. “She’s still young. Only 15.” I know this will upset Anya, a reminder of youth she’ll never possess again. “She’ll learn. She has no choice. I’ll beat her for every wrong note.” Gillian barely flinches at this announcement. I know Anya will enjoy adding to the list of reasons to discipline her daughter. Without turning, I can hear the smile in her response.

“You have more faith in her than I do, sweet boy.” I don’t like her endearment, it’s meant to be a reminder of my lowly status as fledgling heir.

But I know how to get Anya off her high horse quickly, “Have you been to the doctor as Father demanded?” I can hear the frustration in her snorted chuckle as a response. The picture of a horse is accurate, she’s bridling with the desire to tell my Father just what he can do with his demands. Letting Gillian’s face go, I turn around, “Not to worry. I’m sure you’ll have a clean bill of health again this year, sweet Stepmother.”

I’ve certainly paid enough to make sure the doctors stay quiet about Anya’s inability to conceive, but I haven’t told her that. If Anya were to go, Gillian would go as well. And I won’t allow that. But I won’t allow Anya the satisfaction of thinking that we’re partners in her deceptions either. Keeping Father tied to a sterile wife ensures my status as heir is unquestioned. A win-win for me. But I won’t have Gillian’s Mother thinking she has the upper hand with any of this.

“I can only hope to keep up with your Father’s virulence. He’s a man that certainly knows how to keep a woman satisfied.” Another of her cheap jibes.

I laugh at her words, since her fingers unconsciously dip into the fold below her hairy mound, still glistening with sweat and fluids from the last hour of our being together. I’m confident my frail and failing Father is no match for my prowess in satisfying his much younger wife. And he doesn’t know her penchant for including her teenage daughter in her depravity. As witness or participant, it’s entirely up to me now. And I prefer Gillian as participant. I can keep myself harder longer with her involvement.

“Gillian, I believe your Mother is in need of a good tongue lashing for her insolence.” Anya and I are in complete agreement that her daughter should be kept busy thinking of ways to please and submit. I don’t mind sharing the fruits of these thoughts with her Mother. I may not be pleased at having to share Gillian for now, but I can’t be neglectful of the respect I have for the woman that created my sweet girl in the first place.

A bump in the winding road brings my attention back to the night outside my car and the excitement of finally finding Gillian again. Watching her play for me just now, knowing that no matter what else took place over the last three years of her disappearance, she’s still mine. My rage isn’t subdued, but I can wait until we’re alone. I can hold onto this false civility a little longer. She’s been hiding behind the whore façade for three years. But for me, she’ll return to her
true
self.
My
obedient Gillian.

And she’ll pay for her betrayal. She has three years to make up to me. Starting tonight.