Time went by, as it so often does. Five long years passed.
Michael and Declan graduated from the University. Michael went on to become a full instructor, with hints that he could be looking at Assistant Professor, if he paid heed to the age-old credo, Publish or Perish. Instead, he listened to Nikita and wrote another best-selling high-tech espionage thriller. The ancient faculty found Michael’s decision “amusing”, but it was Michael who had the last laugh. He was still on staff, and he was still writing what he wanted.
Declan went on to work as a part-time instructor, eschewing the usual course of Teach till Tenure. He liked having his afternoons free: to paint, to play with his kids, and to make love. He was happy, for what seemed like the first time in years, and he had every expectation that things could only get better.
As for Nikita…with all of the children now in school, she had time to herself. Time to develop whatever hidden talents she might have. Time to discover what possibilities still remained. Time to rest up before the twins flung themselves headlong into adolescence.
In fact, that time was growing shorter, day by day. For example…
“Why am I always in the kitchen?” Nikita wailed. “I don’t even try to cook anymore.”
Her tall, slender daughter gave her mother a crooked smile, looking for all the world like Michael. “That’s cause Emmy does it for you. Face it, Mom, you’re spoiled useless.”
Nikita returned the grin with a snappy comeback, “Thank you, Faith, you know how to keep me humble.”
She continued to unpack the bags of groceries she had just carried in from the car. “Where is Emmy, anyway?”
“Upstairs. Doing homework.” Faith wrinkled her nose. “She’s in fifth grade, Mom, but she acts like she’s in the Army. Sometimes I think she figures if she works harder, she’ll get promoted,” Faith added with a decidedly unladylike snort.
“To what? Sixth grade?” Nikita said dryly.
Faith made a face at her mother and turned to walk away, only to be stopped by Nikita’s hand on her shoulder. “Fee, help me finish up here.”
“Aw, Mom.” Faith acted like she had the weight of the world on those slender shoulders sometimes, but Nikita knew better. She had visions of her headstrong daughter a few years from now. Butting heads with her. They were too similar not to. Faith was already challenging her, and she was only 11.
Nikita gave her daughter what Faith called “The Look”, and Faith obediently began unpacking the remaining bag of groceries. “Mom?” Faith asked, giving her a sidelong glance, as if to check out the territory.
“Yes?” Nikita responded, waiting for the inevitable question, sure it would have something to do with buying something.
Faith almost always seemed self-confident. Therefore, it was unusual when she appeared hesitant or uncertain. “Do you think I’m pretty?”
Nikita blinked as a roll of paper towels fell out of her suddenly nerveless hands and thumped onto the kitchen table. “What?”
“Do you think I’m…you know…pretty?”
“Who’s been talking to you, Fee? I want to know, and I want to know, like, yesterday!” Nikita didn’t know who was more surprised, Faith or her. She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she had become genuinely agitated in reaction to something Faith said or did. But this was definitely one of those times.
“Mommm…nobody said anything to me. I just wanna know,” she whined.
“Why? You’re too young to date, Faith. Boys are completely out of the question. Don’t even go there. End of discussion.” Nikita’s breath was coming so hard and fast, she felt like her mouth would be as dry as cotton in a few moments.
Faith frowned. “Was your mother this mean to you, Mom? All I did was ask a simple question.”
Nikita’s heart rose into her throat. This was a conversation she had hoped never to have with her daughter. How could she explain that she never really knew her mother? Or that what she did know about her mother, frightened her? Enough to make her think twice about raising children.
Taking a deep breath, Nikita sidestepped the question about her mother, choosing to answer what looked to be the easier of the two questions. “Yes, Faith, you’re a very pretty girl,” she said in a curiously subdued tone.
Faith brightened, her changeable eyes verdant green. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You’re not just saying that to get me off your back?”
“No, honey, I’m not just saying that. You’re a beautiful little girl.”
“I’m not so little, Mom,” Faith said with a groan. “You still think I’m Luc’s age, I swear. And he’s in kindergarten.”
Nikita gave Faith’s shiny auburn hair a playful tug. “Sometimes I think you are,” she kidded.
Faith bit her lip and paused significantly. “Well, there was one other question….”
Nikita sighed. “What?”
“There’s going to be a ceremony, sorta like graduation, only for kids.”
“When?”
“It’s just for us sixth-graders. You know, Mom, before we hafta change schools, like Sasha did this year.”
Nikita nodded. “I know. I can hardly believe Sasha is going to be 12 in another month. Seventh grade. My God.” Nikita shook her head gently. Sasha had grown taller in the past couple of years. He now came to Birkoff’s shoulder. Eventually, he would probably be an inch or two taller than Birkoff. But he would never be as tall as he wanted to be. Like Declan.
“The thing is—“
“Yes, Fee? Spit it out, baby, please. Mom doesn’t have the patience she used to.”
Faith crossed her eyes at that, giggling. “You’d better. You’ve still got two more kids to get through Madame’s academy.”
“How is Madame Dupre these days?” Nikita asked, trying to change the subject. But Faith would not be deterred.
“It’s Madame Wilding, and you know it, Mom. You were the only one not tsk-tsk-ing over the headmistress having a fling with the janitor, remember?” Faith grabbed an apple out of the bag in front of her.
Nikita snatched the apple out of her hand and said, “Not this close to dinner, Fee. And how do you know so much about flings anyway?”
“Oh, I dunno. I hear things.” Faith twirled a long strand of reddish-brown hair around one finger and managed to look completely innocent. It was an act she perfected long ago. But it wasn’t working right now. Nikita wanted answers.
“So tell me why you wanted to know if you’re pretty, Fee.”
“Cause Madame said if we wanted, and if our parents approved, we could wear lipstick. To the graduation thing.”
“All of you? Or just the girls?” Nikita quipped.
“Momm….”
“Sweetie, you have a pretty face. Why do you want to start wearing make-up so soon?”
“Momm…don’t you understand anything?”
“I understand that you’ve got entirely too fresh a mouth for someone your age.”
“Mom, I swear, you could never have been my age, or you wouldn’t say stuff like that.”
“Fee, I not only was your age, I was worse than you. I wanted to do everything, and I mean everything. Before I was ready for it. I just want to save you from going through what I went through, sweetheart.”
“By keeping me locked up until I’m 21?”
“No, honey, that’s your father,” Nikita said with a smile, trying to defuse the situation.
“Besides, we let you do things. We let you see people.”
“Momm…the only people you let me see are related to me.”
“Not all of them. What about Connor? I thought he was the love of your life.”
“I’m not six anymore.”
“Neither is he,” Nikita pointed out.
“No, he’s in fifth grade, Mom. He’s younger than me. Maybe it didn’t matter when we were little, but….”
“Faith Samuelle, I didn’t raise you to be such a mean-spirited little girl, and just what do you mean? You want someone older?” Nikita was developing a decided throbbing in the vicinity of her temples.
“I’m never gonna know anyone older if you don’t let me!” Faith shouted, completely losing control.
“Faith, I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that. As for the rest, maybe you and I need to have a little talk.”
“Oh, Mom, this isn’t the sex talk, is it? Cause I already know all that stuff.”
“What do you mean, you already know all that stuff? Where the hell--?”
“Mommm…I’ve never seen you turn color like that. Are you okay?”
Sasha climbed the outside stairway to the third floor of the Samuelle house, pausing on the landing to find his key. But before he could fit the silver key into the lock, the door swung open, seemingly of its own accord. Only he knew that doors couldn’t move by themselves. Could they?
He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his sister Emmy standing there. “Hey, Princess Em. You’re home early, huh?”
Emmy might have inherited the McLaren genes for beauty, but she remained petite, much to her chagrin. She wanted to be tall, like her father and her Aunt Derry, but unless a major growth spurt was in her future, she would probably be no taller than Birkoff.
“Nooo, Sasha, you’re just late. As usual.” She didn’t sound perturbed by this, merely matter of fact.
Sasha shrugged, his long dark brown hair loose upon his shoulders. He was growing into a strikingly handsome young boy. He reached out to ruffle her hair, and that Emmy did object to. Vociferously. “Hey, cut that out. Everybody keeps treating me like their pet. I’m getting tired of it.”
“Must be cause you’re just so damn cute.”
She stuck out her tongue at her brother. “You wouldn’t like it if people did it to you, Sash.”
Sasha smiled blithely and continued into the living room. “They do. Didn’t you notice?” he asked, laying his backpack down before throwing himself into the nearest chair.
“Not like they do to me.” Suddenly pitching her voice high in an attempt at mimicry, she said, “Why, you have the most darling red hair. Can I touch it?” Emmy scowled, a look that was completely at odds with her sunny good nature. “And then they do,” she added.
He laughed. “Am I the only one who gets to see this side of you, Em? When you were little, you were just too perky for words. I used to wish you would just, I dunno, break out or something.”
Emmy fixed her brother with a look that rivaled Declan’s fiercest glare. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? And get your feet off the coffee table!”
Sasha’s feet slid to the floor with a thud. “Yes, Your Highness,” Sasha quipped. “Is there anything to eat? I’m starving!”
Emmy rolled her splendid silver-grey eyes and pursed her mouth. “When are you not starving, Sasha? I swear, if you don’t grow to be as tall as Da, it won’t be because you didn’t eat enough!”
Sasha stood up and pulled his sister into a hug. “Aww, admit it, Em, you love me.”
Emmy lay her head on Sasha’s shoulder. “Yeah, I do. You’re a pretty good brother, Sasha. As brothers go.”
He released his sister and reached past her, for a piece of fruit, only to have her smack his hand. “Not this close to dinner.”
“What are you, my mother?”
Emmy smiled prettily and said, “Sometimes.”
“You cooked?”
Emmy nodded.
“Where’s Da then?”
“He took Daddy to the bookstore to pick up the day’s receipts.”
He frowned. “This early? They going out tonight?”
“Maybe…” she drawled. “What’s it to you?” she asked, tweaking his nose. Sasha had to laugh. Emmy was younger than he was, but in so many ways, she was far more mature than her almost ten years.
“Just checkin’. Have you seen Connor?”
Emmy wrinkled her nose. “What do you think? He’s in my class.”
“I mean, at home, Em. Jeez, you’re gonna be a little beast when you’re a teenager.”
“You’re already a beast, Sash,” she said, playing on Skye’s nickname for him. Sasha couldn’t help it. He actually blushed. Some things never changed. He would never love anyone the way he loved Skye.
“How’s Skye?” he couldn’t resist asking his sister. Emmy was so lucky, she got to spend the entire day with her in class. Not that she saw things the way he would.
“Brilliant. As usual. Y’know, if she wasn’t so nice, I would hate her. She’s so smart. She doesn’t even raise her hand anymore. She knows the teachers love to call on her. And they do. All…the…time. It’s like they think no one else knows anything.”
That worried Sasha. “That’s not fair. They shouldn’t do that. Treat her so different.”
“But she is different, Sasha.”
“Ha,” he snorted. “It’s not like she talks to trees,” he said, reminding Emmy of a time five years ago.
“That’s different. Da says I prolly have Druid ancestry or something. They talked to trees, y’know,” she said smugly.
“But did the trees talk back?” Sasha couldn’t help adding.
“Well, sure. It wouldn’t be much of a conversation otherwise.”
“If you say so,” Sasha said, losing interest. “So…when are we eating?”
Emmy looked at her brother like he had suddenly developed amnesia for the past few minutes. “As soon as Da and Daddy get back.”
“I thought they were going out.”
“You said that. Not me.” Emmy danced away on slender legs and even tinier feet. “Besides,” she called over her shoulder. “Going out is not the same as eating.”
“Oooh, you mean it’s, like, a date?”
“They’re married, Sasha. They don’t hafta date anymore,” Emmy explained, certain her brother had been replaced by a pod person.
“That’s not what I think,” Sasha muttered under his breath, so low that his sister couldn’t make out the words. “What?”
“Never mind. I’ll tell you when you get older.”
“You’ll forget.”
“You’ll remind me.”
It was a common way that they ended their conversations with each other. Sasha was fiercely protective of his younger sister, though he wasn’t always quick to acknowledge it. But Emmy knew. Emmy understood.
She talked to trees, didn’t she?
“What are you doing?” a little voice piped up.
“Setting the table,” replied Emmy.
“How come?” asked the same little voice.
“Cause we’re going to eat dinner.”
“Why?”
Emmy frowned and turned around to face her little cross-examiner. “Luc, you know why we eat dinner. We eat dinner cause we’re hungry. Our bodies need food to make them run.”
“Why?”
Emmy smiled and counted to ten. If Luc weren’t related to Michael, she would gladly tell the little boy to get lost. But she could bear a little exasperation now and again. She was sure that she annoyed her share of grown-ups when she was his age.
She smiled and touched her index finger to the tip of his nose. “Curiosity killed a cat, you know.”
That went right over Luc’s head. Or if it didn’t, he acted as if it did. Without so much as a blink, Luc continued his inquisition.
“Why do we need food? Is it like cars need gas?”
“Exactly,” she said, proud of him for making the connection. He was a very bright little boy. If only he weren’t so insatiably curious.
Luc sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor. That was one of the luxuries of being a small child. He could sit anywhere and be comfortable. His hair was a bit darker than his older sister Faith’s, but it was obvious that they were related. His eyes had the same tendency to change from grey to green, and virtually every shade in between, just like hers. Just like Michael’s. Sometimes it was eerie how much he resembled his father.
Physically.
Other than demonstrating a decided liking for the scientific, Luc had nothing else in common with his father. So far. He behaved just like any other normal five-year old boy. He went to kindergarten with Kady and the Davenport twins, Jago and Kiarra. They were in the same class at St. Anselm’s. And they were fast becoming inseparable out of school as well.
Perhaps it was the fact that they were the same age. But they were somehow different from the older children. More like each other than like the other children in their own families.
Only time would tell if that was a good thing. Or a bad thing.
***
Sasha was just getting ready to go downstairs to eat with the rest of the family when his parents arrived.
Declan smiled and ruffled his hair. “Hey, kiddo.” Sasha rolled his eyes and thought of what he’d said to Emmy earlier. Cute. I’m cute. Like a puppy. See, Da?
“Da, please, I’m not a little kid anymore.”
Declan glanced at Sey, raising an eyebrow as if to say, what brought that on? Sey merely shrugged.
“No, you’re not, Sasha,” Declan finally admitted, controlling the urge to say, “So?”
Sey chuckled softly and said, “Not a big one, either, Sash. Be careful.”
Sasha raked both hands through his hair, just like Declan customarily did when he was unusually pensive. “Umm…?”
One look at those supposedly guileless dark chocolate eyes and Declan was suspicious. “What?”
“CanIhaveanearring?”
“Run that by me again, kiddo?”
“Can I have an earring? Like yours and Dad’s?”
Sey’s eyes widened. He was so accustomed to the emerald earring he wore, he didn’t even notice it. It was like a part of him. In fact, it was. A part of him and Declan.
“Uhhh….” Declan played for time. He was hungry. He and Sey had plans. They seldom managed to finesse their schedules so they could actually go out for an evening. This was special.
“Talk to your father.”
Sey made a face at Declan before saying, “I think….” He paused. “What your father means is…you’re a bit young for an earring, don’t you think?”
“How old do you have to be to wear an earring? Little girls younger than me wear earrings when they make their confirmation.”
Sey groaned in frustration. “You’re not a little girl, Sasha.”
“So what’s the difference?”
“Sasha, let’s not play games, okay? Why don’t you tell me what you really want? A motorcycle, maybe?”
Sasha’s face fell, all the light draining out of his gleaming dark eyes. “Well, no, Dad. That was it. What I really wanted.”
Sey took one look at his son’s face and reconsidered. “Tell me why, and I’ll think about it.”
“I….” Sasha cleared his throat nervously and cast his eyes downward. “I wanna be like you and Da.”
“Like how?”
Suddenly Sey was afraid to hear the answer to that question, but he had to ask. He had to know. He and Declan had made every effort to raise Sasha in the normal way, but there was always a chance they had slipped up somewhere. Sey was fairly certain that Sasha liked girls, but he would support him. No matter what.
All at once Sasha laughed. “Not like that, Dad! Jeez, you should see your face! It’s okay, Dad. I’m still hopelessly in love with Skye, if that answers your question.”
Sey closed his mouth and pretended he hadn’t reacted. “Of course. I knew that.”
“Sure you did.”
“So can I have an earring?”
“What was that reason again?”
“I know, hard to believe, but I actually look up to you guys. Go figure,” Sasha said with a grin.
Declan took back the reins of the conversation. He could starve to death before they got to the end of this. “So this is more or less a style issue?”
“Yeah,” Sasha happily agreed.
“Okay…” Declan drawled. “One, you get a plain gold stud. Nothing some idiot will want to rip out of your ear when he sees it. Okay?”
Sasha quickly nodded.
“Two, you pay for it yourself. You’ll appreciate it more that way.”
Sasha nodded again.
“Three, you get one hole pierced. Not three. Not seven. And only in your earlobe. Not your tongue, nose, nipple, navel, or any other places. Got that, kiddo?”
“I can live with that.”
“Good. Now let’s go down and eat.”
Declan moved toward the door, but Sasha stopped him to give him a hug. “You know, you’re pretty cool, Da.”
Declan traded a quick look with Sey before meeting his son’s eyes again. “Remember that when you’re older.”
***
As they walked into the dining room, Sasha noted that they were among the last of the family to arrive. Spotting the youngest Samuelle, Sasha called, “Hey, anklebiter! What’s up?”
Without warning, Luc scooted from his chair, latching onto Sasha’s leg. Sasha tried valiantly to shake the younger boy loose. “Hey, kid! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Biting your ankle! That’s what you called me, wasn’t it?”
Glaring at the second-in-line to inherit the Samuelle fortune, Sasha turned away. “What a weird kid,” he muttered to himself. But Emmy overheard.
Patting the seat next to her, she gestured that Sasha should sit next to her. With a covering smile, she whispered to him, “I’m sure that’s what they said about you.”
“Very funny, Em,” he returned in the same tone.
After a moment or two, Sasha excitedly whispered to his sister, “Hey, guess what? Da and Dad are gonna let me get an earring!”
Emmy hid a smile. Sasha would look good, too. Not that she was about to let him know that. “See? What’d I say? Weird,” she whispered back.
Sasha held a look with her for a long moment, and Emmy lost the round, beginning to giggle helplessly.
Sisters.
Brothers.
Connor waited until dinner was over to make his move. Faith gathered the dirty dishes, and Connor instantly jumped up, offering to help. Faith shrugged and said, “Suit yourself,” so dismissively that Connor couldn’t possibly read anything into it. But he did.
When they were little, Faith was never far from Connor’s side. Their age difference was moot. They were virtually inseparable.
But now…Faith was impatient to grow up. She felt that she was meant for better things, and for now…those better things didn’t include a childhood companion a year younger than she was.
She rarely invited him over to the house anymore. Connor wangled the dinner invitation from Chris, pretending that he was interested in joining some of the extracurricular activities in which Chris participated. As if. Somehow Connor couldn’t imagine that his future lay in law enforcement. Well, okay, there was no such thing in elementary school. But Chris was a hall monitor, and he took it very seriously.
Connor grabbed some dishes and followed Faith into the kitchen. When she began to load the dishwasher, Connor exclaimed, “Let me do that for you!” She straightened up and gave him a curious look. “Okay.”
And a moment later, he was alone. Faith had taken him at his word, and instead of sharing a little conversation with her, he had inherited her chores. He sagged against the door of the dishwasher and pushed the button. Damn. Why did things have to change?
***
When Connor came out of the kitchen, there was no way to tell that he was both sad as well as angry. He might not have whatever gene developed the blank stare, but he was well accustomed to hiding his feelings. Ever since his kidnapping, he had been deathly afraid of being abducted again. Though he had never been a naturally shy boy, he was definitely guarded now. And suddenly, he had good reason.
He took after his father, as far as his coloring, but he would eventually have Madeline’s height. He already had her slender frame, though he was surprisingly sturdy for one with such deceptively fine bone structure. His hair dark blond to begin with, it had not changed much over the years. He and Chris could still pass as brothers. The resemblance was that striking. Both boys had blue eyes, though Connor’s were still the darker of the two. All in all, he was maturing into a rather good-looking boy. Not that any of that mattered, if he couldn’t have Faith in his life.
Chris, on the other hand, resembled no one as much as Nikita. From his still light blond hair to his light blue eyes, he was the spitting image of his mother. Except for his facial expressions. From his blank stare to his stoic nature, he was Michael’s son, first and foremost.
Sometimes it still took Nikita by surprise, the way Chris looked as though he should be animated and enthusiastic. But the reality was, his father’s influence was nowhere so evident as in Chris.
Chris saw Connor come out of the kitchen and intuitively knew that the younger boy was hurting. In a gesture of support that would make Michael and Nikita proud, Chris instantly grabbed him by the arm, steering him into the living room. Clicking on the television so that they could not be easily overheard, Chris solemnly addressed the other boy. “Are you okay, Connor?”
Connor didn’t so much as blink. “Okay? Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Chris eyed the boy appraisingly, not unlike Michael. He didn’t say anything, but he let his concern for Connor show. He was rewarded. Eventually.
“You know how much I like Fee,” Connor said in a low voice, unable to meet Chris’ eyes.
Chris nodded.
The bitterness suddenly too much for the youngster, Connor finally erupted. “She won’t even stay in the same room with me anymore! How can she do that? We were best friends!”
“Sometimes things change. It’s not your fault.”
“I know it’s not! It’s hers! She’s the one who changed! Not me…not me,” Connor’s voice trailed off. He wouldn’t ever change. At least, not as far as loving Faith.
“She doesn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore,” Connor whispered.
Chris patted Connor on the shoulder. “Don’t take it personally, Connor. You know how Faith is. She’s just—Faith.”
How could he not take it personally? Everything about it was personal. It went to the very heart of the most significant relationship in his life. Except for his parents. No, he took that back. He loved his father desperately, but he still had difficulty relating to his mother. Ever since the birth of Kady, Connor felt himself being slowly pushed into the background. Kady. The perfect child.
He had worked hard at becoming unobtrusive, in an effort to please Madeline, but he was beginning to believe there was no way he could do that.
Chris studied the younger boy. He shared a near- mystical bond with his sister, true, but that didn’t make Chris blind to her faults. He knew very well how single- minded Faith could be. Okay, she was occasionally self- absorbed. But he didn’t believe she would intentionally hurt anyone, especially someone who had meant as much to her as Connor. She was just…inexplicably thoughtless sometimes.
“I can’t make Faith do anything she doesn’t want to do. If I could…I’d tell her she was being a jerk, and that…she shouldn’t blow you off this way. But I don’t have that kind of influence over her.”
“Yes, you do,” said Faith, stepping into the room. Her beautiful young face wore a somber expression. “Why didn’t you just tell me I was being a jerk, Chris? You’re the only one who’s not afraid of me.”
Connor turned anguished eyes on the love of his young life. “No, he’s not. I’m not afraid of you.” His careful façade was beginning to crack. “I’m afraid of being without you,” he added, his voice breaking.
Faith admired Connor’s bravery, his straightforward manner, and his ability to admit his feelings without appearing weak. But she couldn’t let him hope.
“Connor…we’re always going to be friends. But we can’t be best friends. Not now. Maybe not ever again. I hope you understand.”
No, he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how anyone could abandon love when it was freely offered, like the gift it was. But that was okay. He wasn’t giving up. She might never love him again. But she couldn’t control his feelings. This wasn’t over.
He wasn’t giving up.
“Can’t a man dance with his significant other?” Declan sniffed politely.
Sey looked over Declan’s shoulder, admiring the heavy sterling silver bracelet Declan had just placed on his wrist. Swaying back and forth in time to the music, their bodies seemed to know instinctively how to follow each other. “This isn’t just dancing, Dec. It’s like making love,” Sey replied huskily.
Sey stopped looking at the bracelet for a moment, putting his head down on Declan’s shoulder with a sigh. “I can’t believe you bought me this. It must have cost the earth.”
Declan kissed his lover’s hair, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the silky, freshly-washed waves that wafted past his nose. “You’re worth it, baby.”
“But why now? Our anniversary isn’t for another three months, Dec.”
“Since when do I need an excuse to show you how much I love you?” Declan whispered against Sey’s temple.
“Ohhh…I can’t believe you said that, out here on the dance floor, in front of all these people….”
Declan chuckled, burying his nose even more deeply in Sey’s hair. “You don’t know any of these people, Sey.”
Sey shivered within his lover’s embrace, and Declan pressed him more tightly against his body. “I can’t believe you took me back to the restaurant where the maitre d’ called me a queer. In French.”
“Oh, is that why everyone’s looking at us?” Declan laughed. “Money does have its uses. It got us in here, right under everyone’s noses. There’s a certain poetic justice to that. I like it.”
“You like flaunting your sweet little non- conformist ass, you mean.”
“Oh, baby, keep talking. I love it when you talk like that,” Lowering his voice to a sensual whisper, Declan added, “You really like the marriage bracelet?”
“Hell, yes, and it’s mine. Don’t you even think of taking it off.”
As they danced, both of them fell under the hypnotic aura of the music, and Sey snuggled closer, his fingers constantly touching the bracelet. Suddenly Sey froze, realizing that he felt something else. Letters. Engraved deeply into the surface of the bracelet. Unable to reach them, Sey drew back, a haunted look in his eyes. “What’s it say?” he managed to choke out.
“Our names, sweetie. And the date. Oh, and something else, too. Almost forgot.”
Sey felt the rumbling vibration of Declan’s otherwise well-contained mirth against his chest. “Liar. You never forget this stuff. You eat it up with a spoon.”
“Guilty as charged, love.”
“God, I can’t believe how romantic you are.”
“And I can’t believe how many things you can’t believe.” Declan lowered his head to Sey’s ear and whispered hotly, “Honey boy….”
“You do like to live dangerously…making me hard in the middle of a dance floor, filled with straight people. Are you looking to get us kicked out?” Sey almost sounded cross, but Declan knew better. He was turned on. That was one fairly assertive erection pressing insistently against his thigh.
“You know what else the bracelet says?” Declan whispered, his tongue flicking out to caress Sey’s ear.
“Nooo….” Sey’s eyes slid shut of their own accord. He was lost in a sensual haze. And he never wanted to be found.
“I love you…acushla.”
Declan’s voice rasped across Sey’s heightened senses, gently abrading them until he thought he would climax from the mere sound of it. “You love me, Dec? Or that’s what the bracelet says?” Sey’s question, uttered so drowsily, invited Declan closer.
“Both,” Declan said, his lips forming a pout that ached to become a kiss.
“Good.” Sey sounded quite satisfied with that response.
“Just in case you need…reminding.”
“Ha!” Sey chuckled. His knee insinuated itself, very unobtrusively, between Declan’s legs, and Sey groaned against Declan’s mouth, finding it in the darkened room without any difficulty whatsoever.
“I love you, too.” Pause. “Take me home. Please.”
“As you wish.”
***
As they made their way up the stairs, very slowly, stealing heart-stopping kisses every chance they could, Declan said, “Did I mention that the bracelet has a lock?”
“You mean it can’t come off?”
Declan nodded, barely visible in the darkness, but for his magnificent silver eyes. “Is that a problem?”
“No, no…” Sey protested, his hands splaying across Declan’s face, holding him fast for the sweetest, most tender kiss they had ever shared.
“I mean, I don’t want you to think that you’re my…slave or something,” Declan began uneasily.
“I love it….” Sey’s entire body relaxed against Declan. Well, except for the now rock-hard arousal pressing determinedly in one particular place. “I love you….”
Sey’s voice grew insubstantial. “…and I would do anything you asked me to….”
“Anything?” Declan’s own arousal literally sat up and took notice.
As Declan waited expectantly for a response, the door to their apartment abruptly opened. “Well, are you coming in or not?”
Declan was rendered speechless. “What are you doing up, Sasha?”
“Waiting.”
Declan frowned.
“Okay, watching television.”
“At this hour?”
“I’m almost 12, Da.”
“And if you want to live to see 13, you’d better get your ass back inside. Right now.”
Sasha looked suitably chastened. For one long moment. Then he grinned unrepentantly.
“Are you two finished making out?”
“Do you want to live to get any older?”
Sasha vanished.
Declan collapsed against the doorframe and rubbed his face with his hands. “Well, that certainly killed the mood.”
Sey raised an eyebrow at that, threading his fingers seductively through Declan’s thick red hair. “He’s prolly in bed by now.”
“Listening on the other side of the door, more like.”
Suddenly Sey’s head disappeared below Declan’s line of sight. The next thing he knew, something wet and warm was touching him, taking him in.
Declan flung his head back against the door, his hands restlessly seeking his lover’s hair. He groaned.
***
When long minutes passed without hearing his parents pass by his bedroom door, Sasha laughed softly.
Nope. They weren’t done yet.