Chapter 25

 

Zach

 

My eyes roam over the classified ads with frustration, looking at the “Help Wanted” section and seeing job after job that I’m either unqualified for or that I’ve already applied to.

Nothing. Not a single call back for an interview.

I feel like such a lame-ass when I fill out the applications, really only able to provide my name, current address, and two references.

Moira and Randall. My lover and my godfather.

No education. No work experience.

No call backs.

The front door to my parents’ house… correction, my house… opens and I turn my body from my perch at the kitchen table to see Moira walk in like a ray of sunshine. She’s carrying two grocery bags in each hand and, when her eyes light upon mine, she smiles at me brilliantly.

“I got some gorgeous steaks for us to grill out tomorrow night. Randall said he’d join us for dinner. Oh, and more Cocoa Puffs for you, and I bought Lucky Charms for me.”

I want to laugh at her silly joy in grocery shopping because Moira seems to have been lit up from within this last week since we’ve moved into this house. She’s enjoying the role of homemaker, easily slipping into a new lifestyle with me. She cooks and keeps the house clean, has planted flowers in the front yard, and even repainted the kitchen and living room.

Hefting the grocery bags onto the counter, she chatters away about meeting a woman at the store that had twin baby boys. I don’t hear longing in her voice, but I do hear absolute happiness as she recounts how cute they were dressed alike, even with matching pacifiers stuck inside their tiny mouths.

And my mood turns even darker than it was a moment ago. As Moira seems to be happier with where we’ve settled, I’ve become increasingly frustrated and bitter. My life seems to be running just one day into the other, and I’m succumbing to boredom and restlessness.

Sure, Moira and I still go out almost every day to explore the area around us. We go shopping, see foreign films, take tours of galleries, and have picnics in the park. We read newspapers together and discuss the most interesting articles. We drive out into the country and take in the scenery, stopping at country diners to try southern home cooking. I’m busy every single day with Moira and yet, I find it all frivolous.

Except when I’m fucking Moira. That is the one thing that makes me happy, and there’s nothing pointless about that union. It gets so much better every single time I touch her… kiss her… stroke her soft skin, and she whispers sweet words of abandon to me. It’s what keeps me going… keeps me motivated to push forward and continue to try to find some unity with this new life I’m leading.

“So, any luck with the job search today?” Moira asks as she puts the steaks and some milk in the refrigerator.

Pushing the paper away, I sigh in irritation. “No. All the same stuff I’ve applied for already.”

Her voice is cheerful and encouraging. “No worries, baby. You’ll find something soon, I’m sure of it.”

“It’s kind of hard to get a fucking job when I don’t have any experience,” I snap at her, and then watch as her body jerks as if I’ve slapped her.

I sit poised… tensed… ready for her eyes to narrow and for her to spit words of anger back at me. Instead, she stares at me a moment, and then her eyes soften. She walks up to me and drapes herself across my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and nuzzling her cheek against my shoulder. “I’m sorry. Please don’t get frustrated. It can take a while to find a job, even for people with a lot of experience. Besides… if it’s really important to you, you know Randall will hire you at Cannon’s.”

Bitterness that feels like hot ash wells up inside of me, and I push her off my lap. I stand up and throw my hands out to the side of my body. “Of course finding a job is really important to me. Don’t you get my frustration over this? And just drop the fucking Randall thing. Taking a job from him is like taking the fucking money he piles in my bank account. I can’t do it.”

Spinning from her, I walk back toward our room.

Yes, our room… formerly my parents’ room, but we took that one since it had the bigger bed. Moira fitted it with new sheets and a comforter done in browns and beiges… much more masculine she asserted. Reaching into the closet, I pull out the tuxedo that I’m going to have to put on for tonight’s dinner party that Randall is throwing in my honor.

Fuck, I don’t want to go to this thing. Large crowds are not my thing and I’m tired of the endless curiosity about me, and the probing questions of what it’s like to live like a heathen, and everyone being completely flummoxed that I would want to return there to live. I constantly have to justify my desires to everyone.

Everyone except Moira. She silently accepts my decision, even though I see the sadness in her eyes whenever I talk about returning.

“I’m sorry, Zach,” I hear softly from behind me as her arms slip around my waist. She presses her cheek to my back and holds me tight. “I know this is hard on you. What can I do to make it better?”

I briefly cover her hands with mine as they rest on my stomach, stroking my thumbs over her skin. She feels so good, plastered up against me. Warm, tight security. Comfort. I’ll miss fucking Moira when I leave, but damn… I’ll miss this as well. I’ve never had it in my life, and now that I’ve had a taste, I know this will be a terrible loss that I’ll have to live with when I go back.

For about the millionth time, I rage inside over the unfairness of my situation. I’ve so long ago committed my heart and my loyalties to Caraica that I feel powerless to do anything but return. It almost feels like a moral obligation at this point. I know when that time comes, I’m going to be devastated to leave Moira.

I know without a doubt her memory will haunt me, and not just because of the stellar sex. No, it’s turned into something so much more than that. My ability to talk to her for hours on end and even my ability to sit in absolute but comfortable silence with her is a treasure I’ve never had. Not even with Paraila.

That thought also darkens my mood to a foul blackness and suddenly, her hands upon me seem almost stifling.

Pulling Moira’s arms away from me, I step out of her embrace and turn to face her. “You better start getting ready. We’re going to have to leave soon for the party.”

Disappointment fills her eyes, but she gives me a smiling nod of understanding and heads for the bathroom. I think briefly of joining her in the shower, but then decide against it. I don’t think I can handle intimacy with her right at this very moment.

 

 

“So, then the priest looks at the bottle and says, ‘Good Lord! He’s done it again’.”

Everyone standing in our group laughs uproariously, and I plaster a fake smile on my face. I didn’t get that joke, nor the other two the pudgy bastard had told the cream of Atlanta’s society.

Looking around the massive ballroom that sits in the east wing of Randall’s mansion, my eyes search for Moira. She had walked off several minutes ago to use the restroom, and my skin was itching to have her back at my side. I feel uncomfortable with these people that I have nothing in common with, and it’s torture trying to bear up under their scrutiny.

Finally… there she is… walking back in with a confident and graceful stride. She’s wearing a strapless, white gown that plunges low in between her breasts, knotted in the center of her chest with a crystal, rhinestone flower. When she walks, a slit up the side reveals her long legs with her feet encased in crystal-studded sandals that add about four inches of height on her. Perfect alignment for me to fuck her standing up without having to bend my knees to compensate for the height difference.

I pull away silently from the group and make my way across the floor to her. Reaching out, I grab two glasses of champagne from a nearby waiter and when her eyes land on me, they shine with delight and tenderness.

We come together, and I hand her the glass. Her delicate fingers take it from me, and she takes a small sip.

“You look like you could use this more than me,” she murmurs.

“These people are strange,” I tell her. “If one more person asks me what monkey tastes like or if I crap in the jungle, I’m going to strangle someone.”

“Has it really been that bad?” she asks in commiseration.

Anger sparks within me, but I rein it in tight. It’s not for Moira. “These people are so condescending to me. Half of them talk slowly to me like I’m a half-wit.”

Rage flashes across Moira’s face. “Who did that? I’ll fucking have their balls. Randall will have their fucking balls.”

“Easy there, tiger,” I tell her, my chest flushing warmly over her protectiveness of me. “I’m a novelty. I get it. But I can’t fucking stand this party.”

Moira smiles and places her hand on my chest. “We’ll leave soon. I’m sure Randall would understand.”

Reaching my free hand out, I trace my fingers along her cheek. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I shouldn’t take my frustration out on you.”

Her hand comes up to cover mine, and her eyes close briefly as she nuzzles into my caress. “It’s okay. We all need that one person we can just vent to.”

“And you’ll be that person for me?” I ask in amusement.

Her eyes bore into me with utter seriousness and purpose. “I’ll be your everything if you want me to.”

Fuck yes, I want that.

Fuck no, I can’t have that. Not when we’ll eventually be living on two different continents.

Rather than give her affirmation, I pull our joined hands away from her face and lean in to give her a soft kiss. She sighs so softly, like a flower opening up its petals, and it makes me want to crush her to me.

“Isn’t that sweet?” I hear a woman’s voice from behind me. “Looks like your little secret is out in the open. Congratulations to you.”

Turning to face Cara, I pull Moira protectively into my side. It’s amazing that I had once thought this woman beautiful, from a purely male appreciative standpoint. But knowing what I know about her, and knowing that she has malice toward Moira and wanted to taint her with a disgusting offer of group sex and drugs, has me feeling more than a little dangerous at the moment.

Cara stands there, wearing a blood-red gown, her hair piled with sophistication on top of her head. She’s holding a tumbler full of amber liquid and by the glaze in her eyes and the slight way in which she sways back and forth, I can tell she’s drunk.

“Where’s your date tonight?” I sneer. “Oh, wait… that would be your brother, right?”

Cara merely cocks up a perfectly arched eyebrow over my audacity. While my preference is to fight with fists and blades, I can sharpen my words when I need to.

“How dare you think to judge me?” Cara says snidely. “You’re nothing more than a jungle rat trying to fit into a society that will never accept the likes of you. You’re nothing and you’ll never amount to anything here, hard as you might like to try. So, enjoy your time here while you can, Tarzan. Then run back to your little home and try to remember all the ways in which you failed. I’m betting Moira will be grateful to get rid of you, leech, but then again, she’s one of those women that look easy to appease. I’m sure she’ll be fucking her next pet Indian as soon as you’re gone.”

“You fucking bitch,” Moira snarls as she takes a step toward Cara but I pull her back toward me.

I hear another voice from behind me add on, “What in the hell has gotten in to you, Cara?”

Angling my head, I see Randall standing there with anger blazing in his eyes. He steps around me and takes Cara by the upper arm, leaning in closer to her. “It is unacceptable to speak to Zach that way. He’s family.”

Cara pulls her arm away from Randall, her own eyes fevered with indignation. “He’s not our family. You’re blind to him.”

“I see as well as I ever do,” Randall murmurs with disappointment. “I’m seeing very well right now. I think you need to leave, Cara.”

“What?” she asks in disbelief. “You’re kicking me out of your home?”

“I’m asking you to leave before you make a scene and before I’m forced to kick you out. Go home and sleep off your drunk, and then maybe tomorrow you’ll be able to offer Zach and Moira an apology.”

“Never,” she hisses but spins on her heel, almost toppling over and heading toward the doorway. I notice Clint angling in toward her. He takes ahold of her arm as if to steady her, but she throws it off. He follows right behind her, and I sincerely hope that I never have to see those two again.

“I’m so sorry, Zach,” Randall says to me in apology. “She’s had too much to drink, and I’m sure she didn’t mean those words.”

Moira rests a hand on my arm, but I can feel her shaking. Oily unease settles within my chest, almost suffocating me. “You don’t need to apologize for her, Randall. Besides… her words were pretty much true.”

“That’s preposterous,” Randall gasps. “Her words were nothing more than meaningless drivel coming from a drunken and self-absorbed woman.”

“Still,” I tell him kindly as I reach a hand up to clasp his shoulder. “It’s not your place to apologize for her behavior. Now, if you don’t mind… I think Moira and I are going to leave for the night.”

Moira slips her hand into mine and laces her fingers with a slight squeeze. “Thank you for hosting this party for Zach. It was very nice.”

I know that was the kindest thing Moira could think to say to Randall at this moment, and I watch as sadness overtakes his face. “It was a pretty stupid idea having this, huh? What was I thinking? These people aren’t your friends. Hell, ninety percent of them aren’t my friends either.”

“It’s okay,” I assure him. “It was the gesture that counted.”

“I’m sorry,” Randall says, his eyes soft and wistful. “I just wanted to show you off. I’m just… really proud of you, Zach. I have no one else in my family that gives me such pride. That’s all.”

Some of the darkness that had been threatening to overtake me over Cara’s words… which were no doubt about as truthful as any I’ve heard since I’ve been here, starts to recede. Warm fondness for this man, who has indeed given me an amazing opportunity, which led me to Moira, starts to fill up that black hole. Yes, I will miss him too, when I’m gone.

A lot.

 

 

Moira sits straddling me in the limousine on the way home. She had just pushed a button that rolled up a dark piece of glass that separated the driver from us. Then she pulled up her gown, threw a bare leg over my own, and settled down into my lap.

I don’t hesitate a moment, reaching up and pulling the top of her dress down to expose both of her creamy, pale breasts. She wraps her arms around my head and pulls my face to her. My tongue flicks at a nipple, teasing it to a stiff peak before pulling it into my mouth and sucking on it.

My hands slide up her thighs, pushing the satiny material of her dress further up until I glance down and see a hint of white silk covering her pussy. I dip a finger under the edge and skim my finger through the slick folds, causing Moira’s back to arch backward in pleasure.

“That feels good,” she moans softly.

A little too softly for my needs, so I plunge a finger in deep and she cries out.

“How does that feel?” I ask her as I lean back a bit and watch as my finger pumps in and out of her.

“Oh, fuck… so good,” she says, and I add another finger, then another.

Not good enough… I want to hear more, so I lean my body to the side and lay flat against the leather seat, keeping Moira in place with my free hand.

“Crawl up here,” I tell her as I remove my fingers. “I want to fuck you with my tongue.”

Moira scrambles up my chest, pulling clumsily at the material of her dress to keep it out of the way. She takes a brief look out the window and says, “We’re about five minutes from the house.”

“More than enough time,” I assure her and grab onto her hips, dragging her the rest of the way up my body. I bend my legs, scooting my body down further in the seat so I can give her enough room to spread legs wide on either side of me.

When she’s perfectly positioned over my face, I order her, “Now lower that pussy onto my mouth, sweet girl. I’m starving.”

Bracing her hands on the door, she slowly lowers herself. I stick my tongue out to make first contact, eagerly probing at her entrance, and she continues to sink down until I’ve impaled her with it.

“Oooohhhh,” Moira gushes as she swivels her hips above me.

I push my arms up between her thighs and, with my hands, I peel back the swollen lips of her pussy, giving me unfettered access to what I’m really searching for. I need that clit between my lips if I’m going to get her off fast.

Latching on and sucking hard, I pull my tongue in on the action and strike quickly at her with it. Moira cries out almost painfully but then gasps, “Oh, damn… I’m going to come so fast.”

That motivates me further, and my tongue fucking picks up the pace. I manage to rotate one hand to jam a thumb into her wetness, and Moira nearly shoots off my face. I pull her back down and concentrate on pounding her clit with my tongue, pulling her down hard against me almost to the point of suffocation.

I know she starts to come when her thighs clamp hard against me, and she grinds herself down onto me. I actually just constrict my tongue into a hard point, and let her ride it through her orgasm. She finally falls backward on my body, staring up at the ceiling of the car with her bare breasts heaving.

“Oh, Zach… you destroy me so good,” she says softly.

It’s then that I realize the limo has come to a stop. I sit up in the seat and wipe the wetness from my face with the sleeve of my tuxedo jacket, and see my little house glowing under a streetlight.

I have no clue how long we’ve been here, but I can see the driver waiting patiently outside the car door, his back to us.

“Holy fuck,” I say in astonishment. “I’m betting he got an eye and earful.”

Moira giggles as she pulls the top of her dress up and rolls to the side to straighten out the folds of the skirt portion. “His car smells like sex. He’s going to have to spray this down.”

I reach out and grab ahold of her shoulders, pulling her into me for a swift kiss. “I love the way it smells. All musky and sweet like you. In fact, I want to get you in the house so I can do that again to you.”

Pulling away, I reach for the car door, but Moira’s words halt me. “Actually… I was hoping we could do something else tonight.”

I turn to look at her, my eyebrows raised in expectation. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” she drawls out. “I’ve had a few drinks… and you just gave me a massive orgasm. I’m feeling so relaxed.”

I look at her in curiosity and wait for her to tell me exactly what she wants.

“So relaxed,” she continues, as if she’s leading up to a big, secretive reveal. “I think I want to give you my ass tonight.”

A groan rips out of my throat as lust sizzles through my body. My dick goes so hard that it feels like it could cut through steel. I grab her hand, throwing the door open so suddenly that the driver yelps and jumps away as I drag Moira out of the car.

“Thanks for the ride,” I tell the driver as I bend down and haul Moira up over my shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks for the ride,” she calls out to him as I bound up the porch steps and practically kick my own door open.