They didn’t see or speak to each other until spring. He didn’t call her, nor did she him. It was like he’d forgotten her. Wanted to forget her. She’ll admit she has been a serious pain in the ass, but that was her; and there was nothing she could even do about it.
That was the reason she was currently sitting cross-legged on the couch, staring aimlessly at the high ceiling counting how many wooden slabs were joined. She eventually gave up at the fiftieth piece and groaned in frustration. God, she was bored. Susannah was staying at Carolan’s.
Eyeing the metal canister of her vapor pen sitting next to the bottle of coconut flavored nicotine, Lydia quickly averted her gaze from the temptation. She had been trying to quit smoking – but one glance at the golden cylindrical canister with the black button, she could feel her resolve shattering.
One puff. That’s all you need. Her mind told her.
More like one bottle.
Lydia eyed the canister again. The temptation so strong she actually imagined the thick, smooth smoke rolling on her tongue, the bubbling nicotine heating up as she drew hard on it. Her body relaxing on the couch puffing lazy smoke rings and inhaling them back.
She really prayed that when she had children that none of them would inherit her bullshit. That was if she did quit.
Lydia saw her hand reach out against her own will for the already filled canister. "Tomorrow,"she promised through clenched teeth. "I’ll quit tomorrow." She brought the canister and pressed the button, about taking a greedy, life-giving, intoxicating drag when the doorbell rang.
Lydia glanced at the door, then to the canister, and back to the door again with dumb resignation. She released the button with a sigh. “Just take the bitter cruel sign as it is, Kanyimara. God doesn’t want you to waste away yet.” She muttered wearily on her way to the door.
She opened the door with a slight frown at the unwanted intruder who for once she was grateful for.
Savitri stood in front of the porch with a look of uncertainty on her face. “Hey.” She whispered with a wane smile. “May I come in?”
Lydia stared at her for a full minute before pushing the door wider. “Sure.”
Savitri entered leaving Lydia by the door watching her in surprise. She closed the door and padded silently into the living room to see Savitri standing there, looking around.
“Nice house.” She complimented.
“It’s not mine.” Lydia stated standing a feet away watching the younger woman with an impenetrable face. The silence deafening with tensed nerves.
“I honestly didn’t think you’d let me in.” Savitri spoke a little while after. “Your escapade with Vikram, and all.”
Lydia said nothing, her eyes never left Savitri’s face. “Why did you come then?”
Savitri tangled her fingers together, hiding her nervousness and embarrassment, staring silently to the floor.
“Did Martin tell you to see me? Or was it something you decided to do on your own.”
Savitri’s eyes flew to Lydia in a frantic sweep. “No! I came on my own.”
Lydia nodded slowly.
“I’m sorry.”
Lydia watched her and felt pity and annoyance at herself for her sanctimonious attitude. Savitri wasn’t totally at fault. What had transpired between them couldn’t be blamed on the wine; it was of mutual consent. Her arms stretched out for a hug, waiting of Savitri with a soft smile. “Come on…before my arms grow tired.”
Savitri closed the distance between them with a small sigh of relief and happiness. “I’m sorry.” She whispered against Lydia’s neck, her hand clutching her shoulder in a tentative hold.
“I’m sorry for being unfair to you.” Lydia said hugging her tighter.
Savitri withdrew, casting rheumy eyes on Lydia and quickly wiped the tears away. “I take it you haven’t made the doll?”
Lydia grinned, taking her hand and moved to sit down. “No.”
Savitri sat down, dropping her head on Lydia’s thighs. “Where have you been?” she heard Lydia ask, stroking her hair slowly, and glanced at her with a rueful smile. “You looked for me.”
Lydia scoffed lightly. “Don’t be absurd.”
She giggled. “I went to Italy for Christmas with my aunt Celia.”
“How was it?”
“Liberating actually. As refreshing as a well-planned trip is supposed to be.” She answered a smile. “It helped take my mind off the shit pot I created. I apologized to Martin when I got back. A herculean task. He’s stubborn; eventually he forgave me.”
Lydia smiled sadly. “I could imagine.”
“I heard you turned down his marriage proposal.” Savitri turned fully to stare at her with narrowed eyes and a bemused smile. “Why?”
“Would you have accepted an offer while delirious from orgasm?”
Both brows lifted along with her shoulders in a slow shrug. “I don’t know. Sounds romantic enough.” She snickered at Lydia’s dry stare. “But joke apart, is that really the reason you rejected him? Or is it something else?”
Lydia appeared thoughtful. “I will marry him. Not yet anyway. Don’t tell him I said so.”
Savitri looked at her, her brown-gold eyes soft. The atmosphere calm and slightly intimate with unspoken words between them. “I won’t.” she whispered staring at the woman above her stroking her hair. “Did you regret it?”
“No. I didn't.”
“Neither do I. Kiss me. This last secret between us. A secret we share.” She demanded softly, desperately searching Lydia’s face for something. "Please?"
Lydia stared down at her. “Alright.” She whispered, leaning to capture the supple lips, sliding a hand cupping the back of her neck. Tasting her one last time. She pulled away slowly with a reluctant smile at the sadness and resignation in those enchanting depths. “I’ve blown you a last kiss.”
“I can’t argue with that.” Savitri agreed breathlessly. “I wish I found you first. Instead of my brother.”
“He would have done what you did; only worse.” She smirked.
“Maybe. You’d be worth the fight.”
“I’m not worth that much, Celia.” Her fingers trailed along Savitri’s cinnamon toned jaw whilst holding her gaze. “You hold a special place in my heart. It’s corny, I know. But that is what I feel.”
“Life is a cliché.” Savitri muttered closing her eyes.
Lydia’s fingers trailed to the long lashes casting shadows on Savitri's cheekbones. “Your brother said the same thing.”
※
“So is ‘Rox’ your real name? Toran asked.
Brennan glanced at him with a slight frown. “No, it isn’t. Why do you ask?”
Toran shrugged. “Just wondering. Rox sounds so…unusual.” He answered watching fire dance in the fire place, its fiery tongues licked hungrily at the dry logs.
Brennan watched the boy’s head on his lap. His coffee brown hair highlighted with caramel courtesy of the firelight, his lashes long enough to cast shadows on his cheeks, with his nose straight and his dark eyes distant in thought.
“What is your real name?” he asked turning to glance at him with quizzical eyes.
Brennan’s eyes flickered to the fire, the flames reflected on his round gold-rimmed glasses. “I’ll answer you as soon as you tell me what ‘Toran’ means”
“I don’t know what it means? Probably combinations of my parents’ names? They were eccentric in a way.” He replied airily reaching to snatch the glasses off Brennan’s nose. “Your turn. What’s your origin?”
“I’m half Greek, half Swedish.” Brennan said.
Toran turned startled eyes to watch Brennan who watched him with an odd look. “Greek? That’s odd. The Swedish part makes sense.”
Blonde brows furrowed slightly. “How so?”
“You have this aura of being…odd, I guess.”
Brennan snorted. “Touché.”
Toran grinned. His eyes latched on the fireplace, fascinated by the orange-yellow flames licking the dry, seasoned logs. He turned to Brennan as idle fingers stroked his jawline, neck and the slightly exposed skin of his chest languidly.
Brennan appeared lost in thought even though his fingers stroked lightly against his skin. “No. Rox is a pseudo. It’s Mandrapillas. Brennan Lander Claes Mandrapillas.” He muttered, his green eyes trailed the caramel highlighted cinnamon skin. “Are you an only child?”
“Yes.” Toran muttered, “My sister died from heart complications as a child.”
“I’m sorry.”
Toran shook his head, his gaze on the delicate glasses in his hand. “Don’t. It’s been years, and I barely remember her.” He looked at Brennan. “Why did you hide your name?”
Brennan shrugged noncommittally. “I changed it. That’s all you need to know. During a low point in my life.” he muttered his fingers feathered to the buttons of Toran’s flannel shirt and popped a button open. His eyes snapped to Toran watching him searchingly.
Another button popped.
Brennan watched the boy’s head on his lap, his coffee brown curls and dark searching eyes pierced his soul. He was trying to figure him out. And he will fail, woefully. Even Brennan didn’t understand himself fully. His thumb slid upwards and sank into the warmth of Toran’s mouth. “What is it?”
Toran slid his thumb into the wet warmth of Brennan’s mouth, hooking it in place. “Nothing.” The dark gold curls fell over his eyes casting deep shadows that darkened the dark green orbs. He could not and would not pretend to understand the fallen one holding him. Nor did he want anything to do with the darkness clearly lurking behind his shell. Brennan’s tongue slid over his nail bed, curling around it deeper into his mouth – holding it still.
They held each other’s gaze. Brennan released the buttons of his flannel shirt while sank his thumb impossibly deeper with eyes deeply glazed with desire. His breath hitched when Brennan bit hard on his thumb, almost breaking skin. His hand caressed the dark cinnamon surface of Toran’s – a finger pad grazed a dusky nipple – and heard a sharp intake of breath coming out as a hiss between his lips.
Toran rose, bracing his body with a hand on the cool surface of the hardwood floor. Holding Brennan’s enigmatic dark green eyes completely latched on his lips, he leaned forward and brushed his lips softly against his. His eyes flickered to the empty eyes, then to the expressive mouth and dragged his thumb out of Brennan’s mouth, licking the slickness off his fingers.
Dark green eyes turned black with hunger and lust, latched greedily on the movement of Toran’s tongue against his fingers. He seized Toran’s wrist, yanking him closer with a rough grip; the room was dark save for the distant flames granting faint illumines to the vast room. A red-hot log crashed and orange sparks flew and disappeared into miniscule ash immediately after their birth.
Toran’s breath with Brennan’s as they merged, licking their lips open, swallowing Brennan’s hungry growls. Their mouths devoured each other, the woolen material of Brennan’s sweater rasped against his nipples and he gasped lightly.
Brennan shoved his tongue deep into Toran’s mouth, freezing in shock he wrapped his lips around his tongue whilst his arms wrapped round him, sucking greedily. Holding the dark curls in fistfuls, he pushed Toran to the floor, caging him with his body straddling him, wrapping his hand around Toran’s neck in a firm grip, angling his lips for better access.
Quick, deft fingers unbuttoned his shirt, flinging it aside as Toran rose slightly to remove the shirt completely while Brennan quickly discarded his.
The heat from Brennan’s body was enthralling, delicious and life-giving. His touch rendered him senseless. His mouth was everywhere all at once, his tongue lashed at every inch of his skin, nipping, delving into Toran’s mouth stifling his moans of delirious desire. The hand on his hair tightened viciously at the sensations, then slid to his back, leaving angry red claw lines on his skin.
He withdrew from Toran watching his heavy laden, passion lit eyes and scooted a bit to make room. Taking the dark limb, he tugged Toran to a sitting position. His hand moved to undo the button of Toran’s jeans and unzipped his fly, then slid a hand inside.
Toran grunted harshly, a light sheen of perspiration coated his lean muscled skin at the scalding large hand stroking his length rapidly. His nails dug into the deep tawny skin, his lips sought for another feverish kiss.
Brennan moved. “Let’s do it this way, hmm?”
Toran found himself on his hands and knees, the sound of unzipping grated his ears, had him tensing in anticipated silence. A hand caressed the smooth line of his spine with a type of reverence he found appalling and humbling. That feeling was short-lived as the fallen easily and quickly switched tactics.
Brennan bit hard on the outer shell of his ear, licking hard at the hurt and mark; rough hands tugged harshly at his hair pinning him in place as rough brutal kisses and bites tattooed his skin and neck. A flash of inked flesh briefly caught his attention, blurred in his haze. His hands weakened and bucked under the power and force Brennan punished his body. The grip on his cock caused involuntary, sporadic shudders rake his being.
Wide, golden fingers came into view, crept to his lips and the dark voice whispered wickedly. “Open for me.”
He shuddered fiercely at the quite command and parted his lips for the long digits stretching his lips, sliding under his tongue, coating his fingers. The heat from Brennan grazed his back, his nipple on occasion grazed his back with the tiniest movements.
Jeans were discarded in a tumble. Large hands slid languidly up his torso then to his butt, parting the globes fully to his gaze. He felt Brennan’s eyes rover at the sight he presented. A thumb stabbed into the tight ring of flesh.
His eyes flew open and widened with shock and a strangled cry as a tongue stabbed into him, the thumb hooked the tightly clenched ring open. “No – no please…, not that…oh God.” Embarrassment coloured his face as the slick tongue probed him deeper. He gasped over his shoulder, struggling to look at the dark blonde curls. All he could feel were long fingers stretching his cheeks apart in a lethal grip, the inked forearms bulging from strength and force.
Toran dug his face into his shoulder, utterly embarrassed and deranged from the tongue his body greedily latched onto, and whimpered as the tongue slid free. He felt sensual lips trail linear kisses up the curved length of his spine up to his shoulder, engraving his bite on his skin.
Brennan’s lips grazed the sweat-slicken nape of his hair. “Recline against me, Toran. Yes. Like that.”
Toran gave his entire weight to the golden wall of heat and warmth, arching his back according to Brennan’s command. The wide, flared mushroomed crown of the velvet sheathed steel shaft pressed against his heavily lubricated entrance.
Arms wrapped around his torso like bands of steel, hands clutched his shoulders firmly; with a hard thrust, Brennan impaled Toran onto his shaft, piercing and stretching him wide to his limits until he was balls deep inside him. Toran came from that thrust alone.
Fuck…
Shots of pre-cum sprang free, coating the hype-sensitive walls. Toran shuddered from the violent pleasure and agony. The steel embedded inside him began pumping, pistoning in jack-hammering movements. He couldn’t keep up. His body basically lifeless was held in place by a hand firmly wrapped around his neck in a choking grasp, giving him no option other than to take the brutally administered impalements repeatedly shoved mercilessly inside him until he shuddered again in release. This time with his lover.
Both reached the height of ecstasy and euphoria right there of the floorboard, panting and gasping for air.