The twisted vines comple.., p.38
The Twisted Vines Complete Boxset, page 38
“Has he always been such a—”
“Bigot? Prejudiced pig? Chauvinist?”
I sip my wine and hide my smile. I agree with all of those words and then some. We both sit on the sofa, and David runs his fingers through his hair and exhales. “He’s a California kid. I don’t remember him being so close-minded. It’s more like the less satisfied with his life he gets, the more judgmental and bitter he becomes.”
“So you don’t think he’s one of those closeted gays who outwardly spews hate as a cover?”
My question earns a chuckle. “Nah. He’s just an asshole.”
We both laugh, and I kick off my shoes and swing my legs up on the sofa.
“He has all kinds of names for me. The Great Doctor, David the Great. There’s underlying anger that I became a doctor. If I hadn’t made it through medical school, he’d like me more.”
David reaches for my foot and massages the ball with one hand, his glass of wine in the other. The scene is so familiar it hurts. Just like back on the bed in my place. In college, we didn’t always have wine. Sometimes it was soda, or hot tea, or coffee, but we had this. This quiet time, together. Emotion clogs my throat. I think it’s what’s called bittersweet. My heart loves it and yearns for it and mourns it all at once.
He gets up and locks the door. The deadbolt clicks. The sound carries through the entire living area.
“Come here.”
I rise, obedient. David holds his arms out, offering comfort. Solace. His mere presence provides reassurance. He is familiar. He is trust, support, and security. His touch is warm and solid. I breathe in his musky scent. His lips brush mine softly. He tells me he cares. My breasts press against his hard chest. I tell him I am giving myself to him. I want him. I want all that he offers. I am tired of being cold and alone.
We slow dance, step by step, swaying to the beat. He takes the lead. I trail kisses along his throat. His coarse growth presses into my lips. He returns the favor with a light press of his lips below my ear, and he does that thing with his tongue. It’s something only he can do, and I feel it everywhere.
Step by step. Our hands roam each other’s backs, our asses, our hair. It’s a slow and sensual trek to his bedroom. The backs of my legs butt up against his mattress. His long fingers tug on my shirt. He lifts it, and it falls to the floor. My bra follows suit. He dips to kiss and sucks on my breasts, and my nails scratch his scalp, my fingers twining through his hair. My head tips back, overcome with sensations as cool air circles wet skin and his hot mouth lavishes attention, alternating between my breasts. He drops to his knees, and those long fingers undo my pants with surgical precision.
They say coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving. And it’s true. David and I are not the same as we were. We have grown into different people. We have an unshared history. But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Now I appreciate him so much more. Every touch. This intimacy. We are more than shared history. We are new and we are old. I love him and I love us.
He presses on my thigh, directing me to step out of my jeans that are now gathered around my ankles with my underwear. I stand before him, naked. He kneels before me and nudges my knees apart.
My legs weaken as his tongue, joined by his skillful fingers, works me into a frenzy. I tug and pull on his hair, directing him. I am right on the edge, on the precipice, blood coursing, on the threshold of releasing all as his teeth playfully graze my clit and unleash a moan tangled with a howl.
He pulls back. Those chocolate brown eyes tinged with gold, the eyes I know so well they fill my dreams, hold on to me. He licks his lips, and I am aware of movement, but I’m locked into his gaze. I quiver with need and desire to push him back down, to finish me.
His lips are feather light, caressing my thigh, my hip, my belly. A switch flips, and he nudges me back onto the bed. He unzips his pants, and they drop to the floor. His fingers wrap around his cock. One stroke, two. His strokes are hypnotic. Anticipation swirls. Instinctively, I spread my legs. The bed sinks from his weight as he presses one knee on the bed. He positions my body where he wants me, on the edge. He hesitates with his tip at my entrance. His hand comes around my shoulder, tracing down the front of my breast, lighting up my skin.
“Please.” My whispered plea is all that’s needed. His thick erection takes me, stretching me, and we both moan as we join. He’s still wearing his dress shirt, and I rip at it, yanking on the buttons, wanting it off, needing skin on skin.
He maintains control, leaning over me, his feet on the ground as he pounds into me, in and out, bottoming out deep within me, his eyes wide open. His thumb finds my clit and expertly works over the highly sensitized bundle, but it is his gaze that floors me, pushes me over the edge and has me crying out as I come all over him. The fire in his gaze says everything. Desire, want, hunger, need, and more.
I wake in the morning, alone in a rumpled, well-used bed. On the corner of the bedpost dangles a silk tie. It seems I’m not the only one who learned new tricks while we were apart. Last night, I thoroughly enjoyed his new skills. Being tied to a bedpost while he fucked me with his tongue proved wickedly fulfilling, but a part of me last night had yearned for more vanilla sex. Still, it’s not like a woman can complain when a man lavishes her with his tongue until she can’t take any more orgasms, until her pussy is raw and swollen. I open one of David’s drawers and slip on an old Summerfest t-shirt.
Coffee aroma lures me into the kitchen space. He greets me with a steaming mug and a soft kiss.
Last night, he revealed a shocking amount of stamina. Warmth surfaces on my cheeks as I remember how he stretched my body to the limits. I close my eyes and squeeze my thighs as I relive him pulsing deep inside me, marking me. Have I ever not been his?
He smirks knowingly. He caresses the curves of my ass as his nose tickles the sensitive skin on my throat. He raises the hem of my t-shirt, and my coffee splashes onto the floor as his fingers find their way between my bare butt cheeks.
“Hey!” I warn, grinning. He doesn’t care at all about the spilled coffee. I hold up a finger. “Let me check my phone.”
I turned it off last night. The chance that someone is tracking the device is almost nil. But it’s a safety precaution Erik advocates.
“I don’t have to work today. Any chance you can take off?”
“Today’s Thursday?”
“Yes, it is. I’m working at the clinic on Saturday this week. I thought maybe we could go wine tasting. Hang out.”
“You mean after you deal with Dan?”
“He left earlier this morning. His truck’s gone.”
My phone comes to life, and I scroll through messages. There’s one message from Trevor to call him.
The line rings twice, and I sit down on the stool by the small kitchen bar. When Trevor answers, he’s breathing heavily. It’s obvious I’ve caught him out on his morning run.
“Hey, you said to call?”
“Checking in. You with David?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I’m not sure I agree with him. I mean, it’s good. Last night was spectacular. But is it good? My gut is telling me to be cautious.
“Jill wants to meet us in person.”
“Okay. David has today off. I think I’m going to take today off, too.” I haven’t taken an official day off in over two years.
“Jill flew in last night. She wants to meet today.”
“Really?” I whine. Fuck. Why would she not schedule ahead? There must be something important to go over. “Fine,” I grumble.
“I can meet her.”
“No, that’s okay.” Jill and I have bonded over the course of this project. I’d like to meet her in person.
“Nah, you need a mental health day. Besides, you think I can’t relay a message?” He can. In some ways, he’s more qualified than I am. Trevor is a former SEAL. He can do anything he wants and excel. And he’s right. Being a liaison between two teams is essentially playing message relay.
“Did she ask for Erik, too?”
“She asked.”
“He’s not going?”
“That’s a negative. But I’ll go and represent.”
“Where are you going?”
“Near San Fran. Sausalito. We’re meeting for lobster rolls.”
“Oh, at Fish. I mentioned that place to her.” There’s a clear sky outside. I’ve spent days cooped up online. We’ve worked through weekends. It’s not like if I drove down to meet Jill I’d be working during that time, and Trevor can make the drive and collect whatever information she has. I’d much prefer to spend the day with David, as opposed to in a car. “Are you sure?”
“Am I sure I can handle a simple meetup? Yes.”
“I owe you.”
“Later.”
I end the call and slip it into my back pocket.
“Trevor?” David asks.
“Yeah. He’s covering for me today. He’s a big proponent of us.”
He steps between my legs and tilts my head upward.
“Good. Because he doesn’t have a choice. And neither do you. We haven’t discussed the future. I haven’t wanted to push you. But Kare, this feels too right. I know you plan on leaving, but I’m in this. If you decide you want to live somewhere else, I’ll figure it out. Or this time around, we can try long distance if needed. I’ll try anything, okay?”
The center of my chest rips, torn between a torrent of conflicting emotions. He’s saying exactly what I wanted to hear so many years ago. But things are different now. I’m different. My world is different. Trevor can thump his chest, claiming we’re all good now, but I don’t buy it. Our situation is precarious. We moved around a lot in the past. By necessity. And with every fiber of my being, I believe there’s a good chance we’ll need to move again. To keep loved ones safe, I will do what is necessary.
SIXTEEN
CHEMISTRY
David
“Why do you have a woman’s clothes in your closet?” Kairi asks.
I rinse off my razor, set it aside, and join Kairi. The door she’s opened isn’t a closet I use. It’s a small coat closet my mother set up as a linen and towel closet. The dress hanging is a swim coverup. Or, at least, that’s what Aimee, my ex-girlfriend from Minnesota, used it for. She and I visited Mom last summer. I didn’t realize she’d left anything behind.
“Can I wear it?” Kairi asks.
“Sure. Is it supposed to be hot today?” The dress has thin straps and thinner material. I only saw Aimee wear it over bathing suits.
“Low eighties. A brief heatwave is crossing over the Northwest. I can stop by and get clothes at the house, but I’d rather not risk getting sucked into a project.”
“Who would suck you in? Trevor?” I’m undecided on that guy. He pushed her to see me, so that is a point in his favor. Plus, Max likes him.
“No. Trevor wouldn’t. He’s not like that, and we don’t do the same work. But my computers have wicked strong suctioning powers.”
“Well, by all means, let’s stay away.”
There’s an old picnic basket on the top shelf in the pantry, and I fill it with cheese, crackers, and anything remotely suitable for munching. Kairi comes out from the bedroom wearing the dress. It’s much shorter on her than it was on Aimee. The hem falls inches below her ass, exposing her long, lean thighs.
Kairi can tan. I’ve seen it. But you’d never know that looking at her pale, smooth skin. She’s wearing the same Converse sneakers she wore yesterday.
“Have you been out in the sun at all this summer?” I ask as I hunt down sunblock. If we’re spending the day outside, she’ll need it.
“On the deck. Sure. But I live in jeans. My legs are really glowing, aren’t they?”
“You look sexy as fuck.” And I mean it. The corners of her lips barely turn up, but it’s enough that I can tell she appreciates my compliment. But yes, her legs are ghostly white. It’s funny how in the shower and in bed I didn’t really notice. Out here in the den, dressed, they gleam. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to lift her on the counter…but no, we need fresh air. I want to give her a day date. We live in wine country. There’s no better place.
“Any preference on which vineyard we go to? My guess is we won’t be able to get appointments, so that limits our choices.”
“I’d like to stay close. Go hiking through our vineyard. Do you mind? That way, it’ll be just us. We won’t have any crowds to deal with.”
“That’s fine with me.” I set about selecting a couple of bottles to pack with us as my phone rings. It’s on the counter near Kairi, and I ask her to pass it to me.
On the screen, Aimee’s profile shows. I decline the call, then regret it. I owe her a response. There’s probably something else wrong with the apartment. But if there is, she should text me.
I slip my phone in my backpack and ask Kairi, “Ready to go?”
“Who was that?”
“The woman who is renting my apartment back in Minneapolis.”
“Oh. You kept your place back there?”
“I did. Thought it would be a good investment.” Now I wish I’d sold it.
“Rethinking it?”
“Something breaks in the apartment all the time, and it’s a hassle not being there to handle it.”
“So you don’t take your tenant’s calls?” Her voice rises an octave and there’s shock in her expression. I laugh. She makes me laugh. Just by looking at me in the right way.
“Trust me. She’ll text me, and I’ll have to deal with it.”
We exit the carriage house, hand in hand. It’s about midmorning, and the sun shines over the hills. There’s not a cloud in the sky. When we pull out of the carriage house, I survey my mother’s home. There’s no sign of her. She’s probably at Dan’s. Knowing Mom, she probably brought him breakfast and freshly squeezed orange juice.
“Where should I drive?” I ask as the heavy iron gate to Morrigan Farms glides open.
“Why don’t you park near my mom’s house? We can take the trail up to the top.”
“Who’s taking care of the vineyard?”
“Mom outsources it. The same company that buys her grapes manages the vines.”
“Doesn’t that mean that strangers are always coming around?” Growing up, the consensus was that the farmers, those working the land, were good people. I never would’ve thought twice about it before, but now, after observing the security measures, I’m surprised Trevor, Erik, and Wolf—her team, as she refers to them—would be okay with strangers milling around.
“Trevor and Wolf did background checks on the entire firm. Not all the workers are legal, but none of them represent a risk to us.”
“Is it a small crew?” Her brow wrinkles in confusion. “How can you keep track of who is who?”
“Facial recognition. We have all the employees’ photos uploaded. Those cameras by the gate and all along the main drive? It scans for recognition. We’ve had one or two false alarms with new hires. That’s why the first time you visited, Wolf greeted you with a gun in his holster. You weren’t in the database as approved.”
“But now I am?”
“Yes. You’ve been cleared.”
I park the car in a parking spot that’s set off from the house. Tenants live in the house. I turn to Kairi. Facial recognition, guns, and SEALs.
“Kairi, this doesn’t make sense. You say you are a consultant.”
“I am.”
“Guns? Facial recognition?”
“David…” She sighs and stares out the car window. Her hand rests on the door handle.
“You don’t have to tell me.” We’ve been taking things slowly. I can move slowly.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” Those brown eyes plead. I reach out and gently place strands of hair behind her ear. “I can tell you this. Back in Asia, some things happened that require us to have security. It’s why, actually, Erik hired Trevor and Wolf. It’s how we all came to work together and why we’re building this new security firm.”
“Consulting?”
“Consulting security firm. We have clients, some are private, but most are government, which is why I can’t tell you that much.”
“I understand. I think.” We exchange timid smiles. She pulls the door handle.
The last thing I want is for today to be heavy. I don’t want to push her to tell me anything she’s not comfortable sharing. We’ve got time. She needs to build up her trust in me.
We exit the car, and I lift the picnic basket and follow her. Her mother’s house is dark. We walk around it, through the back yard, and to a narrow path. Vines grow close to the back yard, and the path quickly opens up into rows of vines.
The vines themselves are high, above my eye level, and soon my view is of green leaves, clusters of grapes, the dirt beneath our feet, and Kairi’s long blond hair swishing as she walks. Her short dress bounces with each step. My gaze falls to those long legs, and my thoughts stray. Has anyone else ever loved every part of her body as much as I do?
“Okay, so, Trevor and Wolf are the muscle, Erik’s a hacker. What’s your role in all this? You’re not one of those ‘I can tell you, but then I have to kill you’ chicks?” I say, keeping things light while trying to get some answers.
“Let me give you an example. Have you ever heard of Ashley Madison?”
“The site for married cheaters?” I ask. She laughs.
“Well, it’s people looking for discretion. But yeah, that. Anyway, a couple of years ago, someone hacked into the site and targeted their users. Blackmail. Ransom. Whatever you want to call it. One of the men targeted was a high-profile senator.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. I’m not going to tell you his name.”
“I don’t care who.” My expectations for politicians are set at a relatively low bar.
“Well, that senator came to us. I examined all the men who had been targeted.”
“Only men were targeted?”
“Well, in this case, yeah. And that helped narrow things down for me quite a bit. Anyway, I picked up on similarities in the profiles of those targeted. I created a number of similar profiles on the site and began playing the game, so to speak.”
