Vessel (Cutting Cords Series Book 2) Page 4

  I wondered if Cole realized he’d have to make some major changes in his living conditions. There was no way we’d be able to stay in this apartment. There simply wasn’t enough room for a nursery and a nanny, which I assumed we’d be hiring. Neither one of us had a clue how to deal with babies, plus we both worked full-time. Finding space for Noriko throughout her pregnancy would be another challenge. Our spacious two bedroom, one bath, had no guest room. We’d converted my old room into a study with two desks, two computers, and some filing cabinets. Where the heck was he planning on housing his baby mama?

  It was ironic that I was so cautious when I’d been the impulsive and oftentimes reckless partner. Cole’s love had given me the validation I needed to come into my own. I had changed a lot in five years, physically as well as mentally. I felt healthier and emotionally stable. My occasional bouts of anger were uneventful, and thoughts of cutting remained in the distant background. I knew it would be a lifelong battle, but I felt more in control despite the packet of blades I’d bought earlier this evening. They were still in their package, shoved into a drawer at the studio, along with the stash of weed.

  After depositing Cole and Freddie in our bedroom, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get rid of the smoky taste in my mouth. It wouldn’t do for our reunion to be spoiled by bad breath. But was makeup sex an option if he was determined to save his precious sperm? Thoughts of his dishonesty crept into my brain like malware, impossible to ignore until we found resolution. Cole had tried to broach the subject of Noriko again in the cab, and I’d snapped at him, telling him to cease and desist or I’d spend the night at a hotel. He bit back an angry retort, and his kissable lips pressed into a white slash. I knew he was pissed, but I didn’t care. I needed time to sort out this shit show.

  Cole was already in bed when I padded out of the bathroom. Freddie’s tail thumped twice to acknowledge my presence, but he didn’t lift his head off the cushy pallet. I watched the most gorgeous professor in the world skimming over the pages of his latest book with nimble fingers. Once he’d wrapped his head around his disability, he’d learned Braille easily, and now it was a part of his life he no longer questioned.

  “I can feel you staring,” he said in a low voice.

  Busted. There was something about Cole I couldn’t resist, despite my anger and disappointment. I could pretend I wasn’t interested and sleep on the sofa, but he’d reach for my boner and know I was lying. To be fair, it had been weeks, and I was deprived. I swallowed my snarky retort and continued to stare at him.

  He put the book aside and turned down the comforter. “Come to bed,” he said invitingly. “You need some sensational makeup sex to show you how much you mean to me.”

  Surprise—and relief—sank in, and I slipped between the sheets, noticing he was already sporting wood. “Are you planning to dip into the Fujiwara reserve?”

  “Shush,” he whispered, brushing my lips gently. He pulled back for a second and said, “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  “You know I’d give you the world if I could, but what you’re asking me to do is unthinkable.”

  “We’ll figure out a way to make this work, okay?”

  “Promise me you won’t do anything behind my back. If you want my support, I expect full disclosure.”

  “I agree.”

  “You’ll give me time to get more information on Noriko and explore other options?”

  He sighed. “So long as you keep in mind the ultimate goal is to have a healthy child.”

  “I understand.” And those two words were all it took to smooth over whatever anger and anxiety we were both feeling.

  Having sex with the same person, day in and day out for the last five years, should have grown old by now, but it hadn’t. Weeks of fasting combined with the lingering effects of weed heightened every sensation and we fell on each other like hungry tomcats. Cole was trembling with urgency, as famished for sex as I was, and we rubbed our bare cocks against each other, breaths hitching and hips bucking while our mouths continued to taste with epicurean delight.

  Breaking apart with a gasp, I begged, “Suck me before I die.”

  He slid down my torso, spread my legs, and took me in his mouth with expert bobbing pulls. I bucked up reflexively, crying out with satisfaction as I watched him do his thing. Cole had perfected the fine art of fellatio by constant practice. Neither one of us had much experience when we’d first hooked up, so discovering new ways to pleasure each other had been a large and enjoyable part of our first year. After a point, Cole could no longer watch porn, but he certainly made up for it by reading everything he could find on gay sex. Surprisingly, one of his main sources was Japanese erotica.

  Now, we were very much in sync. Cole knew every nuance of my body. Each sigh was a signal, my cries of delight the only spark he needed to fuel his fire. Tonight, I relinquished all control and let him take me on the amazing ride that culminated with a burst of heat flooding his mouth. I moaned as he swallowed around my throbbing cock.

  Cole let go and slithered up my torso. I could taste myself when he kissed me and his clever tongue dueled with mine for supremacy. We rolled over so now I blanketed his hard body. “Your turn,” I said, soaking in the sight of Cole’s contented smile.

  “Worship me,” he teased, running his fingers through my hair.

  The texture of Cole’s skin was like polished marble and just as hard, chiseled in all the right places. His musky, clean scent more appealing than any bottled product. I fanned out his jet-black hair on the ivory linen pillowcase, always a compelling sight. At thirty-one, Cole was in his prime. There was nothing I would improve, and my fingers raced over his sparsely haired chest, resting for a few minutes to tweak his nipples. They grew rigid under my touch, and he moaned, moving his head from side to side. I released my grip on the dark nubs and moved down his torso with featherlike kisses.

  “Feels good,” Cole said huskily.

  “I want you relaxed and pliant,” I breathed in his ear, “because I plan to use some of those swimmers.”

  “I know there’s plenty for everyone.”

  “Damned right. No more hoarding.”

  “Enough talking and more doing.”

  “So bossy.”

  “You love it.”

  “I love you, my shogun.”

  Cole reached for me and yanked me up for a kiss. I could feel myself rising again, pressing hard against his cock, which was stretched to the limit.

  “Again?” Cole asked.

  “I’ve been deprived for weeks.”

  “You’re a sex machine, Sloan.”

  “Aren’t you the lucky one?”

  Grabbing the lube, I squirted a healthy amount on my right hand and got him ready. It had been weeks, and he was as tight as a virgin. He squirmed when I pushed in a finger and squeaked when the second followed. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” he said, grimacing but nodding me on.

  Encouraged, I added a third finger and loosened him up sufficiently. I was dribbling precum, so the lube I swiped on myself was an added precaution. Given my size, the last thing I wanted was to hurt him. We’d discarded the lubricated condoms years ago, so the extra time I took in preparing him was always appreciated.

  I pushed back his knees and spread him wide as he raised his hands and gripped the iron rails of our headboard. His arms corded with the force of his grip, and he looked so fucking hot I almost shot my load. I wanted this image as my screen saver, but I knew he would kill me if he found out, so I had to content myself with memories instead. I buried my nose in the whorl of dark hair in his armpits, inhaling the rich scent, while my cock breached his tight sphincter in one swift stroke. I sank into him all the way to the root, my bony hips grinding against his pelvis.

  “Jesus, Sloan.”

  I froze. “Too much?”

  Cole exhaled and shook his head. “I forget how big you are.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t ever apologize for being well-endowed.” />
  I waiting for his body to accommodate me, determined not to ruin the moment. “Tell me when to move.”

  Once he relaxed and I was snug inside his accommodating channel, we moved like a well-oiled machine. I pulled out almost to my tip and sank back in, angling each stroke for maximum effect. I brushed his prostate several times, loving the look of shocked delight on his face each time I pegged the spongy organ. “Fuck, yeah.”

  The breathless expletive spurred me on, and I moved with shorter, more vigorous strokes. Soon I was driving into him forcefully, and he canted his hips to meet each thrust. The headboard creaked loudly in time with our movements. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Freddie approaching the bed. He’d seen this often enough to know the difference between sex and play, so instead of pouncing on the bed to join in the fun, he sat down on his haunches and watched. Fucking voyeur. I gave him the signal to go back to his corner and chill.

  My attention was drawn back to Cole as his body clamped around me before he came in a creamy mess over my chest and neck. A future generation of Fujiwaras dotted my torso, and I giggled at my own warped sense of humor seconds before I shot my load.

  Cole let go of the headboard, and we wrapped around each other like conjoined twins, unwilling to part while we listened to our combined heartbeats thudding loudly.

  “Wow.”

  “See what you’ve been missing?”

  “You’re so beautiful,” Cole said, caressing my face. His sense of touch was magnified by his blindness, and I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he really did see me.

  “Has it occurred to you that I’ll remain forever young in your mind?”

  Loosening his hold, Cole asked, “What do you mean?”

  “Your vision of me will always remain rooted in the twenty-something guy you first met years ago. For all intents and purposes, I’m immortal.”

  Cole scoffed. “You’ve been watching too many vampire shows.”

  “Think about it though. I could get old and wrinkly and you’d never know it.”

  “I know more than you think,” Cole argued. “You’ve lost some weight.”

  “Shit….”

  “Don’t deny it, babe. What’s going on?”

  “I’ve been stressing over our current situation. Food tastes like sawdust.”

  “Don’t take it out on your diet. Gain back those precious pounds.”

  “Hai, master-san.”

  “Shush.”

  “Don’t you like it when I’m acting subby?”

  “Where the hell is this coming from?”

  “I saw your face when Noriko addressed you in Japanese with the kowtowing shit. Your chest puffed up like a fucking pigeon, lapping up the subservience.”

  “You’re insane.” Cole pushed me away.

  “Am I?” Why was he so defensive? Had I hit the nail on the head? As a historian, he was intrigued by most of the ceremonial traditions of the Japanese culture. Ken couldn’t have chosen a better candidate, come to think of it, and, once again, I felt threatened and insecure.

  “If I wanted a doormat, I would have married Juliana.”

  “Excuse me… who’s bringing out your inner bitch?”

  “You are, with your stupid comments. Noriko was raised in Japan. She’s no different from anyone else in her culture. San is an honorific, the Japanese equivalent of Mr. or Mrs. Attaching it to a name is only a sign of respect, not subservience in any shape or form.”

  “Spare me the lecture, Cole.”

  “It’s my duty to set you straight when you’re clearly wrong.”

  Tamping down the instinctive need to punch him in the mouth whenever he pulled the academic card, I offered, “Let’s not argue anymore. I’m sorry I misunderstood.”

  “Apology accepted.” Haltingly, Cole added, “She’s not a threat.”

  He shouldn’t have thrown in that last bit. I was still on edge, despite the great sex, and I was tempted to remind him of his past lovers. He’d been banging women long before he met me. I considered Noriko a clear and present danger. But, in the interest of maintaining our tentative truce and giving me the breathing room to get more background on the skanky bitch, I held my tongue.

  Cole slid out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. Glancing over his shoulder, he mentioned, “I will say this as often as you need to hear it. You’re the one I love. Noriko is simply a means to an end and not worth so much anxiety.”

  “Maybe if I hear it often enough, I’ll believe you.”

  Chapter 6

  The next morning, Cole persuaded me to keep an open mind, so I begrudgingly agreed to let Noriko tag along for our weekend in Montauk. Max owned a summer home in the tiny beach resort on the tip of Long Island. He’d extended an open invitation for any weekend we could get away, and we were always free to bring a guest. Perhaps a few days with her in close quarters would be more informative than hiring a detective and waiting for a report.

  Noriko was waiting outside the Washington Square Hotel, where she’d been staying since her arrival from Japan. We picked her up in a cab, heading out to Penn Station to catch the Long Island cannonball service, an express train to East Hampton.

  She took the seat beside Cole while I sat opposite the pair, allowing me to study her without being too obvious. I still had a bad habit of staring at people, but I’d learned to be more subtle. Freddie lay contentedly at his master’s feet, lulled into a sleepy stupor by the rocking motion of the powerful locomotive. Our pup was a seasoned traveler and partial to trains since it was Cole’s preferred mode of transport.

  I noted her outfit with the keen eye of someone who’d been in the fashion industry for the last five years. She wore a vivid purple shirt underneath a black jacket, accessorized with a silk scarf in vibrant jewel tones. Her skinny jeans were tucked into soft leather boots that rose to mid-calf, accentuating shapely legs. Noriko was understatedly elegant, and I ticked off the designer and price of each item. The boots were handmade in Italy, her blazer had the Hanae Mori insignia embroidered on the right breast pocket, and the scarf’s intertwining Gs were Gucci’s easily recognizable logo. The sum total of her outfit made the offer to surrogate even more suspicious. Why would a woman who evidently had the means to purchase designer duds be willing to sacrifice two years of her life if money wasn’t a factor? Or was this all for show, and she was in debt up to her perfectly arched eyebrows. Other than her berry-colored lip gloss and a bit of mascara, Noriko’s face was once again bare of makeup. She was a natural beauty, which made her motives even more suspect. She could have anyone she wanted, so why be a womb for rent?

  I listened to her responses as Cole explained the dynamics of East Hampton in relation to New York City in general. Noriko was impressed by the history of the seaside towns. Coming from a country where land was at a premium, the sprawling mansions we glimpsed on the way to our destination were impressive, more so when she learned that most of the owners only used these palatial residences during the warmer months. It seemed excessive, when viewing it from a foreigner’s perspective. Her questions were intelligent, and I began to realize there was more to this Eurasian beauty than met the eye.

  “Have you been to college?” I asked bluntly, interrupting the conversation between her and Cole.

  “No, Sloan-san. I did not get the opportunity.”

  “Chillax on the ‘san’ shit.”

  Cole frowned. “Sloan….”

  “I understand, but I don’t need or want her to use it when she talks to me.”

  “I will try to remember,” Noriko replied sweetly, although her cool gaze was telling. She seemed to dislike me as much, if not more, than I detested her.

  Max and his usual entourage of models, assistants, and makeup crew would be joining us, providing the badly needed buffer to get through this awkward weekend. Noriko, for all her graciousness, was a stranger, and the hours spent in her company were bound to be unnerving without the distraction of a crowd. I resented everything about her and was hard-pressed to keep my
feelings in check. I hoped the next few days in her company would ease some of my concerns, but so far they were magnified instead of the other way around.

  Since it was early in April, the weather was decent but not enough to draw the huge crowds. Max had bought his old farmhouse at least ten years ago and had it completely renovated. It was walking distance to the beach, about two miles from town, and large enough to accommodate at least twenty guests. Cole and I had been there many times over the last five years, for photo shoots, as well as weekend getaways. The scenery was magnificent, with the bay and famous lighthouse providing a perfect backdrop for whatever product Max was currently peddling.

  He’d even designated a room for us so we could leave clothes and personal belongings, making the place feel more like home. Freddie adored the freedom of the outdoors and spent the first ten minutes of our arrival tearing around the lawn and barking at the seagulls that swooped down to torment him. This was a ritual we put up with each time we set foot on the property. Cole waited patiently for his apartment dweller to expend the pent-up energy before settling down to become his reliable service dog.

  “Max, I’d like you to meet Noriko,” I said casually when Max welcomed us.

  “Hajimemashite,” Noriko said softly, bowing from the waist.

  “Anata wa eigo ga hanase masu ka?” Max said in Japanese, surprising all of us.

  Noriko’s face lit up. “Hai, sukoshi hanase masu,” she prattled on in her native tongue until Max raised his hand.