Annette Blair (23 page)

Kira introduced them to Bessie, then they went up to the vaults to look through the late-eighties, early-nineties gowns on the racks from which Bessie said they could choose.

Melody found a gown right away, tried it on, and stepped onto a dais before a three-way mirror. She viewed herself from all angles. “You really think this hides my condition?”

“Mel,” Kira said, “it’s Empire style and you’re barely, what, four weeks pregnant?”

“Eighteen, and
you
noticed.”

“Your hormones
must
be raging, because you usually just throw something on and know you look great. Of course I noticed. You have a perfect figure, tall, thin, sexy—breasts and butt not too big—whereas I”—Kira regarded
her bottom in the mirror and sighed—“would not need to pad my bustle.”

“We’re talking about my
waist,
” Melody said.

“Which is more than twenty inches around for the first time in your life, ergo, I noticed. Get over it. People are going to figure it out, hon,” Kira said, trying to be gentle. “Do you know how lucky you are?”

“Yeah,” Melody said, and Kira handed her a tissue and laughed.

“Weren’t Empire gowns from an earlier period, though?” Mel asked, smoothing her skirt.

Kira read the dress tag. “It says 1892 and petunia crepe. The color looks great with your dark hair and tan skin. I love it on you. Don’t you love it on her, Vic?”

Vickie passed them by, arms full, headed for the dressing room, but she stopped to examine Melody and shake her head in exasperation. “It’s gorgeous, Mel. Chill.”

“Your grandmother will kill us if we get them dirty,” Mel said.

“
Jason’s
grandmother,” Kira corrected. “Bessie’s glad they’re being used. She thinks they’re going to waste up here.”

“They are,” Vickie called from the dressing room. “I have buyers who would kill for some of these. Do you think Bessie would be interested in doing a fashion-show auction at some point? My Immortal Classic customers would come in droves and bring their collector friends. We could charge admission, and the foundation could profit from both.”

“I think you should talk to her,” Kira said. “Sounds like an awesome idea to me. Mel, stop fussing over the gown. It’ll be perfect for the reception. Now show us the dress you’re wearing to cook.”

“Here,” Mel said, showing her a red, low-waisted saque dress on a hanger. “It’s French to go with the menu I chose.”

“It’s perfect,” Kira said.

“I want Jason to be a guest on the show,” Mel said. “He can stir a sauce or something.” She wiggled her brows. “It’d be a shame to waste such a hunka-hunka manhood.”

“Fine,” Kira said, “but no kissing.”

“Okayyyyy,” Mel said with a huff. “How many people are coming to the reception?”

“Nearly three hundred. You’re a real draw. We didn’t get half as many on the ghost tour, which was fine, because the house is small, so we only invited a certain level of donor.”

Melody turned to the mirror again and grinned, accentuating her belly by hugging the dress against it.

Logan and Jason came in, and Logan went over to admire his wife’s tummy as well.

Kira’s heart did a flip. She yearned for such an intimate experience, but knew she would never have one. She turned to Jason. “Already finished cleaning up?”

“Long time ago,” Jason said.

“We make a good team,” Logan added. “Mel,” he said, “Jason took me to St. Anthony’s Home for Boys. It’s the institution the foundation supports. I’d like you to see it, if you’re not too tired.”

“I’m fine,” Melody said, “but don’t stop fussing over me. I like it. Vickie are you ever going to show us what you picked out?”

“Hey, I’m savoring. You know how much I love old clothes. Calm down, Seabright, or that kid’s gonna pop out and salute you.”

Kira sent Jason and Logan out to see Billy’s cars.

“Yeah, like that’s my favorite pastime,” Jason said, but Logan voiced an interest, so they went.

Vickie came out looking like an icon of the Gilded Age.

“Good goddess!” Kira said. “Is that you in there?”

Vickie shrugged. “It’s a redingote dress by Felix of France, 1898.” She fingered the hand-printed tag.

“I love the pale blue pinstripes,” Mel said, “and the way the triangle bodice buttons on your left shoulder while the skirt buttons on your right hip.”

Vickie nodded. “All this vertical braid fakes a slimming line, too. Exactly what I need,” she said.

“I wish my sleeves weren’t poufy,” Mel said.

“You’ve got a figure that adores pouf,” Vickie said.

“Kira, what are you wearing?” Mel asked.

“Bet she searched widow’s wear for black crepe,” Vic said.

“I picked out my gown last week,” Kira said. “I wanted to make a statement.”

“Well, put it on,” Vic said. “We’re waiting to hear what you have to say.”

A few minutes later Kira mounted the pedestal before the three-way and placed her hands on her hips, tossing her hair off her shoulders. “Well?”

“It’s black,” Vic said, “but it’s sure in hell not a mourning gown.”

“I love the leg-o’-mutton sleeves,” Kira said.

“I love the scarlet-edged black braid,” Vic said, “the way it runs up each side of your skirt to kiss at your tiny waist, and make a vee up your bodice. It’s simple and stunning.”

“You’re a knockout in it,” Melody said.

“There is something about it that makes a statement,” Vickie said. “It’s a baby step forward, isn’t it? You
are
getting over Charlie, aren’t you?”

Kira huffed. “I don’t know why everybody thinks I’m wearing black because of him. I wore black before.”

“But not every day for months,” Vic said.

Kira wondered what Jason would think of the dress.

“The Best Kisser in America
is
helping you through this, isn’t he?” Melody asked.

Kira hated to think so, because she and Jason had no future, but Vic and Mel knew her too well for her to pretend, even to herself, so she nodded.

“So . . . why hasn’t he kissed you?”

“That’s not my story to tell. Let’s go meet the guys.”

AN
hour later at St. Anthony’s, when Melody saw the boys playing in the old brick gym, she grabbed Logan’s hand with a white-knuckled grip.

Vickie got into a game of basketball with the older boys.

Travis took a running leap into Jason’s arms while Zane limped over and slipped his arm around Kira’s leg.

Kira introduced the twins to Mel and Logan, aware they were about Shane’s age.

Melody lowered herself to a child’s chair to talk with them. She smiled at Zane’s hockey chatter, but her eyes were full. Kira took the Lilliputian chair beside her.

“I’d ask
you
to ’dopt me,” Travis told Melody, sliding to the ground from Jason’s arms, his small voice a mock whisper, “but I already asked the coach here, and I don’t wanna hurt his feelings.”

Kira’s heart skipped at the shock mixed with pride in Jason’s expression.

Logan ruffled Travis’s hair and asked him to lead their tour. Later, Melody asked Sister Margaret about everything from tucking the little ones in at night, to dental care, to bad dreams.

Back at Cloud Kiss the doors to the neutral zone were opened, as if the two apartments had become one, the kitchen its epicenter.

Logan and Jason chilled in Jason’s living room, in stocking feet, with open collars and rolled-up sleeves, drinking beer from bottles, and watching hockey on Jason’s big-screen TV.

Kira, Vickie, and Melody got into their nightclothes, curled up in Mel’s parlor, and talked until Melody fell asleep on them.

Kira went for Logan. “She’s a goner, Logan. I think it’s time to put our little mother to bed.”

Logan rose. “I’m surprised she lasted this long.”

Kira got her guests settled and came into Jason’s apartment, her squishy pillow under her arm.

“Game’s nearly over,” he said, tugging on her pillow. “C’mere.”

When she stepped closer, he took the pillow, placed it on his lap, and urged her down. Kira clearly remembered stretching out on his sofa and snuggling into her pillow.

She vaguely remembered Jason’s arm coming around her waist, and later, she dreamed he had his hand on her ass, then before she knew it, he was placing her in a bed.

“You snore, Fitzgerald,” he said, lips to her brow.

When Kira woke, she expected to find him beside her and was disappointed. So disappointed, she couldn’t fall back to sleep. It was only four
A
.
M
., so she got up, grabbed her pillow, crept toward his door, and nudged it open.

Jason looked peaceful in sleep, her quilt his only cover, which warmed her, but he was so tangled in it, she knew he’d had a restless night.

She wondered if he’d been using her memory quilt as his blanket since the rabbit hole. Now, more than ever, she wanted to climb beneath it with him and make new memories.

Too sleepy to fight the urge, Kira lifted the corner of the quilt and started to slip beneath it when Jason sat straight up. “Huh?”

“You look as if somebody used an eggbeater on your hair,” she said on a giggle.

“What?”

“Brilliant morning vocab,” she said, sliding in along his length.

Jason looked quizzically down at her, a light coming into his eyes. “Rabbit hole?”

“Go back to sleep,” she said, pulling him down and turning on her side to face away from him. “I’m gonna do the
same. I just wanted a morning snuggle,” she said, backing into him, ass against his groin, and pulling his arm over her. “I won’t bother you.”

“The hell you won’t,” he said, throwing a leg over her, and sliding his hand up beneath her camisole to find a handful of tingling breast. “The hell you won’t.”

Kira snuggled against his erection, her center warm, moist, and ready for . . . anything.

As if he knew as much, Jason made a southward journey with one capable hand and slipped a finger between her warm wet folds. She opened to him on the instant, growing him harder against her, Harvey riding her backside, as she rode Jason’s talented hand to a rising plane filled with starlight and promise.

“I . . .” She sighed, gasped, bit her lip. “I . . . really . . . only . . .”

“A cuddle, I know, and we will,” Jason said. “Right after we both . . .”

Words were not necessary as pleasure bloomed in her, glowed bright, and brighter still, splintering like fireworks with every beat closer to the pinnacle, until she shattered completely.

When she caught her breath, she turned and searched for Harvey.

“Oh, man,” Jason said. “He’s been dreaming of this, of your hands on him. Better watch out ’cause he’s been cocked and crying for your attention since the first time you threatened him with your wand.”

“That fast?” she said.

“He’s precocious,” Jason said on a gasp as Kira closed her hand on a cock bigger than she’d ever held or imagined.

“I’ll say he is, and huge, too.”

“Well, he’s been . . . plenty . . . stimulated.” Jason released a long slow breath when Kira started to slide her fingers along his length.

“When was he ‘plenty’ stimulated?”

“The first rabbit hole; he wanted you bad. Then in the arena, then the ‘wow’ in the hidden stairs. Then . . . the . . . phone calls.”

“He liked the phone calls, did he?” Kira was on all fours now, giving Harvey her full attention.

“Yeah,” Jason said, his eyes closing in ecstasy. “Your voice when you come makes him . . . yeah.”

Kira made Harvey last, and last some more, though he wept a little because she didn’t quite make him come.

She let Jason make her come again, twice, before she let him give himself up to her torture. He came like a rocket, and Kira was proud.

Together they sighed, snuggled, and drifted into a sated sleep.

Kira woke to Vickie calling her name.

“She’s in the shower,” Jason called in reply, covering Kira’s mouth, and she licked his hand.

“Oh,” Vickie replied. “Just tell her we’re up.”

“Yeah,” Jason whispered. “I’m up, too.”

“Oh,” Vickie added, “your grandmother has invited us for breakfast. We’re going down when we’re ready. See you there.”

“Okay,” Jason called.

Kira raised the quilt to check beneath it and see if Jason was telling the truth. “I’ll say you’re up. Impressively . . . up . . . considering.”

She gloved him and he groaned, raised his ass off the bed, but he covered her hand to stop the pleasure. “Shower,” he said through clenched teeth. “You’re in the shower, remember?”

“I am? Oh, right.” She rose and tugged him up by his Harvey. “Let’s shower together and save time.”

Jason allowed himself to be led into his bathroom like a docile pup on a hard leash, and Kira loved having this power over him.

“You’re a
bad
influence on me, Fitzgerald.”

“Like this is all my—Your shower is as big as my parent’s bathroom.”

He turned on both showerheads in a gold-fixtured cream marble stall so big, it didn’t need a door.

Inside the shower he kissed his way from her breasts to her center, knelt before her, and let her revel in the talent of his mouth, until all she could hear was the pumping of her heart, the thunder of the spray, and the echo of her whimpers as she rose on a crest almost too perfect to be borne.

She came in such a rush of pleasure, he had to hold her steady, and when he let her go, she slid like liquid soap down the side of the stall, to land knees up and breathing hard. She could barely speak.

Concerned, Jason bent down beside her. “Okay there, Fitz?”

“Yeah, I think my heart is pumping again. I can’t believe you did that.”

“Damned near drowned.” He wiped his face, his grin as huge and proud as his cock.

“I don’t think I have the strength to stand,” Kira said, “never mind shower and reciprocate.”

“You’ll owe me,” he said, raising her to hold her up and soap her up.

When they arrived in the dining room, Kira wondered if anyone suspected why they were so late, but one look at Vic and Mel, and she knew that they were both suspicious and amused.

Though everyone was full of energy and looking forward to filming Melody’s show, Kira just wanted to take a nap. In a haze of afterglow, she let the caffeine kick in and listened while the others discussed the shooting.