No Simple Sacrifice Page 25

  Besides, I had other things to say.

  “Talia. Fletcher.” He nearly choked on the greeting.

  “Hello.” I gave him a shy smile. Please don’t be mad.

  “D.” Fletcher nodded toward him, taut and formal.

  Drake all but ignored the greeting. “What’s this all about?” he asked me instead. “I got your text.”

  “He got a text, too?”

  “Yes.” I was firm about that, but my poise wavered a second later. “Th-thank you both…for coming.” I swallowed hard. Doubt set in. I hadn’t planned anything past getting them here. Why hadn’t I planned anything? “I needed to see you. Both of you.”

  Drake, jamming hands into his pockets, shrugged hard. “Well…here we are. You’ve seen us. Is that all?”

  Crap. Here it was. The man did cold-hearted better than Mama.

  “Please, Drake. Don’t.”

  I reached for him, molding a hand around his thick bicep, but he instantly shrugged me off. “Don’t what, exactly? Don’t feel like I’ve been set up? Don’t feel like my heart is being ripped from my chest all over again? Which part is the don’t?”

  Of course, that was the moment Mama and Papka approached.

  “Natalia? What is this all about?”

  I pulled in a long breath. Folded my hands in front of me, a practiced move from my choir days, emulating a saint from any of our church’s stained glass windows. “Mama, Papka, I’d like to introduce you to a pair of people who are special to me. This is Drake Newland and Fletcher Ford. They are the men I’m in love with. You said I could have anything I wished—my wish is that you all get acquainted. Drake and Fletcher will be a part of my life from now on—and it’s important to me that you accept them.”

  “They?” Papka turned ashen.

  “Yes. They. Both of them. I love them and I intend on having a relationship with them.” Before my nerve decided to go have a drink without me, I barreled on. “Drake, Fletcher, these are my parents—Olga and Peter Perizkova.”

  Fletcher stepped forward first, his grin wide and dazzling as a toothpaste commercial. “Well, color me happy as a clam at high tide. Nice to meet you, Mr. Perizkova.” He scooped up Mama’s hand and kissed the back. “And nice to see you again, Mrs. Perizkova.”

  Mama’s mouth opened. Closed. She swayed, clearly not sure whether to hug him or slap him.

  Drake wasn’t so charming. If it were possible, his tension cinched tighter. With Fletcher handling Mama—if that was even the proper term—he focused his dark gaze totally on Papka.

  “D-Drake?” I rasped.

  “It’s okay, Natalia,” he ground out. “Your dad and I are just feeling nostalgic.”

  “Nostalgic?” What on Earth…?

  “Because we’ve met before.”

  “Well, you’ve met Mama, of course—at Anya’s birthday party. But my father—” I ping-ponged a puzzled gaze between the two of them. Fletcher joined me. The tension rolling off them both made me squirm. “Papka? What’s going—?”

  “We’ve met before,” Drake cut in. “Haven’t we, Peeetteeerrr?” He dragged my father’s name out in an almost childish way.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Go ahead and tell her, Dad.” Now his tone was rude and condescending. I was tempted to smack him. If we were going to win my parents over, this wasn’t the way to begin—especially when Papka looked ready to pass out.

  “Drake.” Fletcher shifted forward. “Want to fill the rest of us in, brother?”

  Drake pulled in a defined breath. It worked to pull him down from whatever ledge he’d been mentally strolling—thank God. “Your father came to pay us a little visit the last time we were in San Diego.”

  “What?” I blurted.

  “What!” Fletcher snapped. “Why didn’t I—”

  “It was the last morning,” Drake explained. “You’d already gone to the airport, to take those calls from the plane. While I was closing up the condo, daddy dearest came by for a harmless heart-to-heart.”

  “A harmless—” I stopped, struggling to find my breath. Fletcher wrapped a strong hand around my shoulder, but I refused to lean into him. I was tempted—so damn tempted—but I had to face this on my own two feet. As the woman they’d helped me become. “Papka? Is this true? Why did you go to see them? And what did you talk about?”

  Papka’s mouth twisted. His skin mottled in fury beneath his graying mustache. “I did what a man needed to do, Natalia. What your father needed to do.” The words spewed from his mouth, but I heard Mama in every wrathful syllable. A glance in her direction confirmed it. She’d plied him into going. “If they cared for you at all, they had to leave you alone while you still had a decent reputation.”

  My mouth fell open. My eyes couldn’t even blink. I forced movement into my jaw, hoping words would come. They didn’t. Some dim fragment of my mind connected the dots. If I spoke about it, I’d have to believe it. Would have to accept that my own parents had torpedoed the greatest happiness I’d ever known.

  Fletcher backhanded Drake’s shoulder. “Is this the reason you wrote that fucked-up letter?”

  “In a nutshell? Yes.”

  “Why?” I managed at least that. “Why would y—?” Then no more came. The pain rushed in, too hot and terrible to bear, from the night I’d relived a thousand times in the last four weeks.

  Drake’s proud posture dissolved. His midnight eyes locked onto me, filled with anguish and heartbreak. “Because I love you, Talia. I love you more than anyone or anything else I’ve ever known. I want you to be happy, even if that means I’m miserable.” His face crumpled deeper. “I knew how much your family meant to you. Fletcher does, too. When your father came and laid it all out, I pulled the trigger. I felt like I was doing the right thing.”

  I shook my head. Or at least thought I did. Everything was a sudden haze, red-ribboned rage and white-ice fury, clouding my vision…taking over my words, as I spun on my parents. “You don’t even get what you’ve done, do you? Do you?”

  Mama glowered, pinch-lipped and silent, but Papka was worse, his demeanor all but neutral now. After all their years together, he’d been conditioned to stand and listen to a woman yelling at him. He didn’t even flinch.

  “Don’t you get it? I love them. I love them both. They make me happy. They care about me. They want the best for me. You”—I arced a finger, including them both—“just want what makes you look good.”

  “Natalia. Watch your words!”

  “Oh, I’m watching them just fine, Mother. And for the first time in my life, I’m proud of them—of every single word I’m saying right now. And now, you’ll listen to them, too. For one goddamn time in your life, you’ll think about someone other than yourself.”

  “Well. I never—”

  “No. You really have never, have you? But these men”—I grabbed Fletcher on one side and Drake on the other—“they listen to me all the time. They like my words, even if they don’t agree. They love me for who I am, with all my insecurities and imperfections and despite all our differences. Unlike you, they think I’m worthy of their love already…just the way I am.”

  Mama’s shoulders twitched. Her nostrils flared. Then suddenly, it all stopped. She went eerily still—except for the rage roiling in her glare. “So…that is the way of it?”

  Quite possibly, I’d never seen her so angry.

  I’d never felt more serene. “That’s the way of it.”

  “You—you will be the talk of the town, Natalia. A disgrace.” She hissed the last of it. Her biggest fear.

  “So be it,” I returned. “If being happy and being loved makes people talk about me, those are people I don’t want in my life in the first place.”

  “Including your own parents?” My mother’s bitter tone was usually the knife that cut to the quick. Tonight, it simply bounced off me.

  “That’s a choice you’ll have to make for yourselves.” I tilted my head. “It’s not my intention to hurt you—but I also can’
t keep living for your happiness, Mama.” Something in her gaze—the shimmer of tears?—softened my tone. “Maybe it’s time for you to find it again for yourselves. Do you remember the story you told me, when I was a little girl, about when you and Dad fell in love? You were from different stations in society, but you wouldn’t let anyone stop you. What happened, Mama? How did you two forget that over the years? The power of love…your love?”

  Her lips flattened. “This isn’t the time or place for that, young lady.”

  “Maybe it’s exactly the time and place.” Squeezes from both Drake and Fletch encouraged me. “The world isn’t black and white anymore, Mama. Love is as colorful as the rainbow. It comes in every hue and brightness. You’ve prayed to God, begging him to give me a good man. Well, he’s been abundant. I have two and I love them with all my heart and soul. They make me feel whole and I want to be with them. And if God’s willing, they’ll still want me, too.”

  I concluded by looking up at the guys, waiting with my breath held.

  Fletcher, my amazing peacekeeping runway model man, spoke first. “I love you, baby. I’ve never stopped loving you. I want us all to be together, too.”

  Expectantly, we turned to Drake. He took a few seconds longer to reply, spiking my anxiety even higher.

  “Talia.” His words rushed out on an exhale, sounding forced and painful. He yanked me in hard, fitting my body against the muscled length of his. “I’ve missed you so much…and I’m so sorry for hurting you. I thought I was doing the right thing, that you two would find happiness without me.”

  Fletcher socked his shoulder before growling, “Impossible.” It was probably the first and last time he’d ever get away with something like that.

  “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Drake’s grating voice was as rough and loving as his hand against my face. “And further, I will never forgive myself for what happened at the gala. If you can find it in your heart to still want me, I want that, too. I’ve missed you both so much.”

  He looked from me to Fletcher, sending a wordless apology to his best friend. Fletch responded by reaching for his shoulder. Drake returned the move, closing both their big bodies in around me. I twined my hands up, digging fingers into their necks as tears coursed down my face. I never wanted to let go, just in case it was all my imagination. “I love you both so much,” I choked. “I’ve been so lost without you.”

  People wound around us as we embraced in the middle of the hotel lobby. None of us would’ve cared if half the world saw, but my parents’ restless shifting grew heavier on the air. I still needed to deal with them, but couldn’t pull myself from the arms around me. The arms I’d ached for, through so many empty days and nights.

  “Natalia. Natalia!”

  Mama’s harsh hissing finally broke through. With teary laughs, we opened our embrace, though the guys still sandwiched me between them. I wasn’t complaining one bit. I was finally back in my ideal spot. “Yes?” I said sweetly to her.

  “It’s time for dinner. And you’re causing a scene.”

  “People expressing emotions does not cause a scene, Mama.” I stepped forward but slipped my hands down, capturing both the guys’ hands. “Besides, it’s my birthday—and I want us to celebrate together. All of us.”

  “It’s your birthday?” Fletcher tucked in, kissing my cheek. “Happy, happy birthday, baby.”

  Drake leaned over, too—but went straight for my ear with his message. “We’ll celebrate properly after the meal. Upstairs. In your bed.”

  The butterflies in my stomach rushed to my core. Moisture tingled through my folds. My soul had missed them most of all, but my body definitely had something to say about the reunion party. I’d missed them more than words could explain…in so many ways.

  I looked up at Drake’s mischievous grin. His gaze captured mine, full of erotic shadows and illicit meaning. He was dark and lusty and dangerous…and he took my breath away.

  My father had walked away and now returned. “They can seat us now, if you’re ready.”

  He actually tried to smile—much better than what I’d hoped for, and the best we were going to get in the way of acceptance for now. I grabbed onto the olive branch with both hands, returning his words with a genuine grin.

  And I squeezed my guys’ hands harder. Let their warmth, strength and love seep into my skin, my spirit, my heart…right where they belonged.

  As we walked into the restaurant, a wider smile spread across my face, until my cheeks actually hurt. There was a soloist on a piano, performing the most perfect song I could imagine.

  How do you measure the life of a woman or a man?

  In truths that she learned

  Or in times that he cried…

  Seasons of love, indeed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Drake

  “Keep your eyes closed. Are they closed?”

  Her nervous laugh was sexy and throaty and made me crave to do very nasty things to her.

  “They’re closed, they’re closed. What’s going on? Where are you taking me?”

  “No questions, remember? Any more and I’ll have to gag you as well, young lady. Hmmm, maybe you’d like that? I could take your panties off, maybe…then stuff them in your mouth.” The mental image had my cock engorged with blood, straining against my slacks.

  For our three-month anniversary, Fletch and I had planned a uniquely erotic night during our quick getaway to Cozumel. Life had been chaotic lately, with a lot of work, a lot of play and a lot of travel. The three of us were still trying to balance our schedules between Chicago and San Diego until we decided where we’d be best located on a permanent basis. Each city had its merits. None of us was compelled more toward either. This trip had provided a very nice break from the grind.

  “It smells so good. Is that amber? And…piña coladas? Seriously, where are we?”

  “Were those more questions?” I teased the tender spot just under her ear with the tip of my tongue. The growl in my voice made her shiver and I couldn’t resist the chance to move in, grinding my erection against her sweet, tight ass. “Thank fuck you’re still wearing these panties, little girl. You know what would happen if you weren’t? You feel what you do to me, Talia?”

  The sweetest, highest gasp tumbled off her lips. “Ohhhh…Drake. God, you feel so good. Please, unhook the handcuffs so I can touch you.”

  “Not a chance. Unless you need me to, and you know what to say if that’s the case.”

  We’d been playing a bit more over the past few weeks, and I’d decided she needed a safe word after Fletch and I discussed the subject of the abusive ex again. I never wanted to spook her, much less lose her trust and he’d agreed—though I was ecstatic that our little journeys into Power Exchange had worked their desired effect. By surrendering to us in the bedroom, she’d learned what real strength she actually possessed—turning her into a feisty dynamo in other areas of her life. She’d become more confident at work, with her friends—and most importantly, with her family.

  “I remember.”

  Her words helped manage my lust. Hearing her conviction, given with such surety, was a reminder of how much she gave me with this…and exactly what Fletch and I wanted to do with her tonight.

  “Good.” I lifted her hair, kissing her nape. “So for now, those cuffs are staying right where they are. Besides”—I stepped around in front of her, trailing a finger from her ear lobe to her chin— “you like my little games.”

  She leaned toward me, parting her lips. “Yes,” she whispered, “I do.”

  I trailed my finger slowly down her neck but stopped at the first button on her shirt. Correction—Fletcher’s shirt—which looked a hell of a lot better on her than him. “I’ll bet your pussy is wet…waiting for what I’m going to do to you next.”

  “Yes.” Her breaths came out in sparse little puffs, her excitement growing.

  I glanced over at Fletcher. He stood quietly in the shadows. We’d agreed on how we would handle her tonight, to
ying with her mind before completely blowing it. The mind fuck was her favorite part and we adored her for it. No matter how much she begged for our cocks by the time we fucked her, the build-up was what made her the craziest. And us, too…

  I pulled a satin sash from my pocket and wrapped it over her eyes. She jumped when she first felt the material but stilled as I tied the soft fabric at the back of her head.

  “How does that feel?”

  Her breaths came faster, pumping her tits harder against the shirt. Just when I thought the woman couldn’t get any fucking sexier…

  Coherent words. Focus on speaking, dumb shit. On her pleasure…

  “There. Now you can’t peek, either. So…no touching, no seeing. All you can do is soak up the feeling.”

  “Well, that’s not completely true.” She grinned like she’d gotten the better of me.

  “Explain.”

  “I can still hear you. And taste you.”

  “Who said I was finished?”

  “Oh.” She sucked in a shaky breath, belatedly realizing she might have just planted new ideas in my head. And, hell, how she had.

  With studied deliberation, I slipped one of the shirt buttons free. “Talia. Maria. Perizkova,” I whispered, “you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  She let her head rock back. The column of her neck was like brushed bronze in the muted light, showing me every inch of her aroused swallow. “I feel beautiful…always…with you.”

  I pushed another button out. Parted the white fabric in order to view the dusky peaks beneath, centered by erect nipples that all but begged to be sucked and licked and further aroused. I held back, setting my goal on deeper treasures of her sinfully hot body. “So perfect,” I growled. “So fucking amazing. We want you to enjoy tonight. Every damn second.”

  One last button, then the shirt flowed free. It bunched at her lower back, where her wrists were clipped together. I quickly unhooked the ring, let the shirt fall completely, then locked her back together. I watched the conflict skitter over her face—the worries about not doing enough to please me in return—and answered them with an extended ssshhh as I trailed my lips down her body. In that sound, as well as the soft bites and sucks on her skin in between, I conveyed that she already did that…and more. Could she comprehend what a gift she had already given to Fletcher and me? That despite the darkness of her past, she let us take her back into a physical version of the stuff, trusting in the light we’d show her in the end? Didn’t she know how significant that was…how special?