Alexander

The manor is dark for the most part with only a few lamps on the far side of the large room left on. The staff is gone for the day.

“Sara Jane?” The name falls on an empty house, my voice echoing. With my arms up, I close my eyes, and call to the heavens wanting my angel, “Where art thou, sweet Sara Jane?”

“Alexander?”

Not the voice I wanted to hear.

I drop my arms in defeat and look to the top of the stairs.

April leans against the railing. “Are you all right?”

“No. I’m not.” I walk to the bar under the staircase. As I fill a glass with my father’s finest, I hear her footfalls as she comes down. “I don’t want to talk,” I caution. The couch looks mighty comfortable right now, so I fall back, the amber liquid sloshing over the side and droplets dotting my shirt.

“Are you drunk?”

Holding my glass up, I laugh. “First drink, mother dearest.”

“You’re being rude.”

“I’m being me. If you don’t like it, get out.”

“Alexander!”

“Oh stop with the delicate sensibilities.” I polish off the drink and set the crystal glass on the table. Resting forward on my legs, I stare at her as she sits across from me. She looks tired, like the recovering addict she is. With no makeup on, the black circles under her eyes are darker, her cheeks more hollow, but at least her eyes are clear. She’s not using drugs, but is she using me? “Why do you dislike Sara Jane?”

“What? Is that what she told you?” She sighs, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her robe. “Alex—”

“Don’t Alex me.” My emotions teeter like my sanity these days, the alcohol exacerbating them. “Tell me you don’t like the way she mingles with the staff, or that you hate how much I love her. Tell me she’s been rude to you or hurt your feelings. Tell me something that will make me understand why there’s friction in this house between the two of you.”

“I think she’s a sweet gir—”

“No,” I say pointing at her. “I know she’s sweet. I know she’s good, so good that even her dark side is full of light. I know she loves me for me. Flaws and all. So why am I caught between the two of you?”

“You’re not. If you are, I didn’t put you there. I don’t know why she hates me, but she does. When you’re not around—”

“Don’t. Not when she’s not here to defend herself.”

“You asked me.”

“I asked about you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

The coffee table skids against a side chair when I kick it. My back to her in seconds, to this woman I don’t know at all, but I’m supposed to love somehow. I crack my neck and walk to a glass door. Twilight is upon us, but night feels more fitting for my feelings. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

“What do you mean?” The panic in her voice causes me to turn around.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, the fury I felt when I arrived home dissipates into something more gentle. “I allow you to stay because, as the woman who gave birth to me, you should be allotted an easier life than you’ve had. I want to repay the debt my father had accrued. But Sara Jane is the queen of the manor, not you. If you so much as look at her sideways you’ll be out.”

“She’s lying to you. I think she’s jealous of our relationship.”

“We have no relationship.”

“I’m your mother.”

“Birth mother. You’re the woman who gave birth to me.”

“Gave you life.”

“Sara Jane gave me life, but I’m still serving time for having Kingwood as a last name.”

She stands and pleads, “I’m not the enemy. Not to you or to Sara Jane.”

“Then make sure she understands you hold no threat.” I have no doubt she can hear the demand in my tone. It hurts so damn much to love Sara Jane as much as I do, but I will not lose again. “I believe my wife, and although I don’t know what has been going on, I will always believe her. In her. If you didn’t notice, I don’t do well without her.”

She comes closer, her hands reaching out. “You have so much potential, and you’re wasting it.” What the hell? She’s been high for how many years, and she thinks she has the right to say that to me?

“You don’t have a say in how I use or waste my potential.”

April’s smart enough to back away. I watch her as she goes to the stairs, the bright green fabric of her robe floating behind her. She stops at the top and says, “I was hoping our connection was more than our eye color, but you’re proving to be more like your father every day.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I smart back.

“Don’t.”

My eyes stay on her until she disappears from sight. I used to think the only good in me came from Madeline’s side, but now that I know more about that woman upstairs who gave birth to me, I’m fucked either way.

* * *

When I open the door to my quarters, I see Sara Jane and my body electrifies, my heart beats again, my breath speeds to catch up.

Firefly.

She’s here.

I ready for sleep in the bathroom, stripping my clothes off before tiptoeing into the bedroom. When I slip into bed, the warmth of hands so familiar press against my stomach, making my muscles twitch. The pressure is enough to rouse not just my brain but other parts of my body. It feels so good. She feels so good. I don’t want to wake her up because she needs her sleep, but I need her more. I whisper, “Are you awake?”

“Mmm. I’ve been waiting for you.” Her eyes open just for me. Her voice is dreamy despite her words. “Always waiting for you.”

Slinking down, I roll to my side to face her and touch her cheek. “I didn’t know you were here, or I would’ve come home sooner.”

“I was mad, but it will always pass.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Alexander?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. Every side of you. I’ll take your good with your bad. I’ll take your sunshine and storms. I’ll take your misery and fill you with happiness. All I ask in return is that you love me deeply. Love me timelessly. Love me with your whole soul like I love you.”

I thought I carried the weight of the Kingwood empire on my shoulders, but it’s the weight of Sara Jane’s emotions that hold my heart. “I will.”

She smiles. “Then that’s enough.” Lifting up, she says, “Well, almost enough.” Straddling my thighs, her legs are bare, cotton underwear between them. She bends down and kisses my chest. “Six weeks is gonna be torture, but I made a call, and I hear four weeks is possible.”

My hips start to move as nails drag on the inside of my legs—higher and higher. Fuck. I grab my cock and begin to stroke, but I’m never gonna get there. “I want inside you, baby.”

“I want you too. So much.”

“That’s weeks from now.”

“It doesn’t matter. I want to make you feel good.”

When she begins to slide down, I capture her under her arms, and bring her up higher, closer to me. “I want you to lie down.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. Making you feel good makes me feel good.”

Her eyes shine in the moonlight sneaking in from the windows. I see it—the truth she sees in my eyes shines in hers, and she lies down next to me.

I start slow, my finger running lightly over the top of her T-shirt. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” she rasps, her eyes on me.

Lifting the hem of her shirt, I kiss her belly and then gentler over the wound. Whispering, I ask, “How are you?” It’s a general question, but she understands me, like no other ever has before.

“Better with you. Healing. Go slow though, okay?”

I nod and then kiss lower and lower. Maneuvering between her legs, I kneel on the floor and pull her by the ankles to the end of the bed. I remove her underwear and hold them to my nose. Closing my eyes, I savor her return and inhale her sweet Sara Jane scent.

Her eyes shine with a need inside as her voice sweeps toward me. “What are you doing?” she asks.

“I missed you. God, I missed you.”

“I’m here now. Just reach out and touch me. I’m all yours. Always, Alexander.”

Tossing the panties to the floor, I spread her legs. Her words are heady, more so than any whiskey. With my hands on her hips, I speak to her through nips and licks before running the tip of my nose through her wet heat.

Intoxicating.

A fire burns inside. I want to take her, fuck her, own her body and her orgasm again, but I have to wait. I have to put her needs before mine. Pride is a fucker I intend to conquer. I won’t let it win. I’ll be here for her, just her, how she needs me to be.

My hips move to find relief against the mattress while I taste her. Licking through her desire—fuck if that doesn’t make me harder. My hair is tugged, and I look up. She says, “You need me. I can make you feel so good. Just let me.”

“But—”

“No buts.” She moves lower, causing me to sit up. “I want to do this.”

I stand and take her hands, bringing her to her feet in front of me. Weaving my fingers into the back of her hair, I hold her in place just so I can look into her eyes a few seconds longer. When her body eases against mine we move even closer. Her head drops to my chest and my hands rub her back. “You are beauty to me—hope and promises kept. You are everything.”

“You, Alexander, are every wish I ever made. You’re my dream come true. I love you so much that sometimes I wonder if I’ve loved you longer than this life.”

I’ll blame the whiskey for the pounding of my heart, the lump in my throat, and my words getting trapped in my chest. Fucking emotions. Two grown men can’t bring me down, but one petite angel levels my heart to the ground. “A love this extraordinary can’t be contained to one lifetime.”

I can’t live without her. I’ll do anything to hold on to this woman. And then she kneels before me, treating me like a king. With my cock in her hands, her eyes stay on mine when she takes me into her mouth to cleanse my soul with the purity that is Sara Jane.

Fuck. So fucking thankful.