Eyes Wide Open: The Blackstone Affair, Book 3

Dr. Roswell’s beautiful turquoise fountain pen made the nicest sound in her notebook as she made her notes.

“So the university cannot really alter the program for me. I’ll still have to do the conserving practicum at some point. But they were happy to give me a leave of absence from the Rothvale and have approved my substituting in some research work.”

“And how do you feel about that?” I knew she was going to ask me that.

“Um . . . I’m disappointed, of course, but don’t have a choice about it.” I shrugged. “It’s weird, but even though I am scared to death about having a baby, I’m more afraid of doing something that might hurt my baby.”

Dr. Roswell smiled at me. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother, Brynne.”

Well, that remains to be seen. “I have no idea how to be a mom or how I got into this situation.” I held my hands up. “I don’t even recognize my life compared with what it was two months ago. I don’t know if I’ll be able to ever get the kind of job I’ve trained for all these years. There’s a lot I don’t know.”

“That’s very true, but I can assure you that it’s true for everyone, everywhere.”

I pondered her very wise and eloquent statement. The woman could say so much with such few words. How could any of us predict the future or know what we could or would be doing? It’s impossible to know. “Yeah, I suppose,” I said finally.

“And Ethan? You haven’t said much about what he wants.”

I thought about him and what he might be doing right now. Working hard to keep all those celebrities safe at the Olympics, barking orders in meetings, on conference calls barking more orders, and stressing. I worried about him even though he wouldn’t hear word one from me about it. He just spread himself a little thinner and never complained. But his nightmares keep coming, don’t they?

“Ahh, Ethan is very matter-of-fact about this. He never showed me anything but support from the first moment. He didn’t seemed scared or trapped or . . . anything like that. I’ll be honest, I expected him to feel that way. We haven’t known each other that long, and most men would want to run hard and fast in the other direction when faced with an unplanned pregnancy, but not him.” I shook my head at her. “He was adamant we not terminate. He said he couldn’t do it. That me and our baby are his priority now.”

She smiled again. “He sounds like he’s thrilled, and that must give you some feelings of security.”

“It does. He wants to get married as soon as we can organize it after the Olympics are finished. He really wants an announcement to go out about an engagement.” I looked down at my lap. “I’ve been holding off on that part, and he’s not happy with me about it.”

She wrote something down and asked her next question without looking up. “Why do you think you are resistant to an engagement announcement?”

“Oh, God . . . I don’t know. The only way I can describe it is a feeling of helplessness, a lack of control in my life. It’s like I’m being swept along in a current. I’m not struggling to keep afloat or in danger of drowning, but I cannot get out of it. The current pulls me along and takes me places I never thought I would go.” I started to feel a little emotional and wished I hadn’t said anything to her, but it was too late. The confessions were starting to pour out of me now. “I can’t go back to the beginning. I can only go forward, whether I want to or not.”

“Do you want to get out?” Dr. Roswell offered up options, just like I knew she would. “Because you don’t have to have a baby, or get engaged, or married, or any of it. You know that, Brynne.”

I shook my head, looking down at my belly. I thought about what we had created and felt guilty for even voicing my worries. “I don’t want to get out. I love Ethan. He tells me he loves me all the time. And I need him . . . now.”

“Brynne, do you realize what you just said?”

I looked up into her smiling eyes and knew I was going to spill the rest.

“I need Ethan. I need him for everything. I need him in order to be happy, and to be the father of this baby we made, and to love me and care for me . . .” My voice trailed off to a whimper that sounded so pathetic I loathed myself in that moment.

Dr. Roswell spoke so softly: “That’s very scary, isn’t it?”

The tears started coming and I reached for a tissue. “Yeah,” I sobbed, taking a moment to get the next part out, “I need him so badly . . . and it makes me utterly vulnerable . . . and what will I do if some day he decides he doesn’t want me anymore?”

“It’s called trust, Brynne, and it is by far the hardest gift to give away.”

She was right about that.

♥

Dinner alone pretty much sucked. I wouldn’t complain to Ethan, though. I understood how busy he was at work and there had been lots of evening events for him lately. I cleaned up from my vegetable soup and French bread dinner, which so far was staying put in my stomach. Thank God for the anti-nausea medication, or I was sure I’d be dead by then. The vomiting seemed to be behind me for the most part, if I kept to very simple food and took the meds regularly. Both Freddy and Dr. Burnsley said I had something called hyperemesis gravidarum, or in plain English, severe morning sickness. In my case it started as evening sickness and serious dehydration, and could eventually cause malnutrition if left untreated. Lovely. So suffice it to say, I was trying my best to eat.

I’d gotten a text from Ethan about an hour earlier telling me he would be home late and eating dinner at his office. I understood, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. The Olympics were huge and it was exciting as the buildup to the opening ceremonies grew. I really did understand the demands Ethan was under at work, and it made me feel better to know that he hated it as much as I did, if not more. He told me all the time how much he wished he could just stay in for one of my home-cooked dinners and cuddle in front of the television together and have sex for dessert.

Yeah, me too.

I was a wreck emotionally and I knew it. I was lonely, and hormonal, and far too needy at the moment. I hated feeling needy.

I looked longingly over at the Miele coffeemaker, which had to be worth more than my boot collection, and sulked as I wiped down the granite worktop. No good coffee for the next seven months was gonna suck about as much as the lonely dinner did tonight. I didn’t do decaf and figured torturing myself with only one cup a day wasn’t worth the hassle.

I was finding my inner Zen and gaining a close personal relationship with herbal teas instead. Raspberry and Tangerine Zinger had been pleasant surprises, I must admit. I made a cup of the Raspberry Zinger and called Benny.

“Hello, my lovely darling.”

“I miss you. What are you up to tonight?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too pathetic.

“Ricardo’s here and we’re just done with dinner.”

“Ahhh, well, why did you even answer the phone? You’re busy. Sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to give you a drive-by love blast.”

“No, no, no, my sweet. Not so fast. What is going on with you?” Ben was without a doubt the most emotionally intuitive man on the planet. He could sniff out the smallest innuendo and go wild with possible scenarios. I’d seen him in action enough to know.

“Nothing is going on with me,” I lied. “You’re busy and have company. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“No. Ricardo’s sorting out some work business on a call of his own. Start talking.”

I sighed into the phone. Why did I call Ben again?

“I’m waiting, darling. What is going on with you?”

“Ben, I’m fine. Everything is good. I’ve moved in with Ethan and he’s very swamped with work and the Games coming. I’m just doing my thing.”

“So you’re alone tonight?” Ben was going to ask me for details, one after the other. I am so dumb sometimes.

“Yes. He’s so busy right now with organization meetings.”

“Why on earth didn’t you call me? I’d have taken you out for a spin.”

“No, you have plans with the fantastically handsome Ricardo, remember? I’ve not felt like going out for a spin the last days anyway.”

“You’re not feeling well?”

Fuck. “No, Ben, really I’m good. I was just home alone and missing my friend and wanted to hear your voice is all. We haven’t talked since the boot photos you took.”

“Oh, God, they’re gorgeous. I’ll send you some of the proofs on email.”

“I can’t wait to see them.” I couldn’t wait, but Ethan sure could. He was still voicing his displeasure at my modeling, but I wasn’t budging on the issue. Especially now. If I couldn’t work at the Rothvale on the paintings, then I sure as hell was going to have plenty of time for my other job of modeling. At least now, before my body got big. I hoped to even do some pregnancy-themed shots. It was something that crossed my mind, even if I couldn’t share my news with anyone. Ben didn’t know anything yet, and neither did Gaby.

They were both going to kill me for not telling.

“So you’ve moved in with Blackstone, huh?”

“Yes, Ben. I did. Ethan demanded it, really. After what happened at the National Gallery the night of the Mallerton Gala, he sort of put his foot down. I’m keeping the lease on my flat to help ease Gaby’s way through the end of the year, but yeah, we are now cohabitating.”

“When’s the wedding?” Ben asked dreamily.

I laughed at him. “Would you stop!”

“I’m serious, girl. You’re so headed there, and if I know anything at all it’s that Blackstone loves you well and good, my darling.”

“You really see that in him?”

Ben scoffed into the phone. “A person would have to be dead not to. I’m happy for you. You deserve it, and so much more.”

Oh, we’ve got the more coming all right. “I’ll be crying if you utter another word, Ben, I mean it.” I wasn’t lying this time.

He seemed to get my vibe and lighted the tone. “You have to let me help you choose your dress. Promise me,” he pleaded. “Vintage, fitted, handmade lace . . .” The dreamy voice was back. “You will look a goddess, you know, if you let me have at you.”

I smiled into the phone and thought about how surprised Ben would be to find out he and Ethan were on the same team on this one. “I’m not saying a word, buster. I gotta go but I loved hearing your voice. I’ve been without it too long.”

“Me too, lovely girl. Text me your free days and let me take you to lunch next week?”

“Will do, Ben. Love you.”

Wow, that was a close one, I thought as I hit End. Better not call Gaby either. Second that on Dad, Mom, and Aunt Marie as well. Gaby would have my pregnancy planned out and the hospital scheduled after just one look at me. I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. Ethan was pushing for the announcement of our engagement, and if I knew one thing about Ethan, it was that he usually got exactly what he wanted.

Being a sucker for punishment, I logged into my Facebook next.

A message from my high school friend Jessica was sitting in my inbox. We’d kept in touch through Facebook since I’d moved to London. I didn’t have a ton of friends on my profile and kept it pretty private. Ethan had checked it out thoroughly and given the okay. He said that the threat was from people who already knew me, where I lived and worked, so having a Facebook page wasn’t going to matter either way.

Jessica Vettner: Hey honey. How are you? I’m just doing the same old with work and life and you’ll never guess who I ran into today. Karl Westman from Bayside. Remember him? He’s still mega hawt too!!! LOL He asked for my number. 😀 Karl’s been working in Seattle and just got transferred back here to Marin. I bumped into him at the gym of all places. I still go to First Fitness over on Hemlock. I see your dad there sometimes and we share the same personal trainer! Your dad is a sweetheart and really proud of you. He talks about you all the time and said you’re doing more modeling and loving it. I’m happy for you, Bry. I would love to just see you again! When are you ever coming back to SF for a visit?? ♥ Jess

Wow. That was an unexpected blast from the past. Not Jessica, but Karl. I don’t think she remembered, but I sure did. Karl was the boy I dated for a while once Lance left for college. Karl, who made Lance insanely jealous when he found out I wasn’t just waiting around for him to come home from university and fuck me, or so that was the story I knew. The reason Lance and his buddies abused me on that pool table and thought it would be a fun idea to make a video of it.

I never saw or talked to Lance again or even Karl. I know Karl tried to get in touch with me a few times before I was shipped away to New Mexico, but I wouldn’t see him or any of my old friends, apart from Jessica. I just couldn’t go back to that place in time; that was the same reason I hadn’t been back to my hometown in four years. I had no intentions of ever going back.

It was weird thinking about all that again. There were no hard feelings about Karl, no feelings period. Karl had actually treated me pretty decently considering what my reputation had been in high school, but I’d shut down after the incident and was unable to look anyone in the eye who had seen the images of me on that video. I wonder what Karl thought when he saw it. Was he trying to comfort me because he felt sorry for what had happened, or was he hoping to get some more action out of me? Who knew? I’m sure I never knew at the time, nor did I much care. I was too busy trying to find my way out of this life.

I wrote a happy-happy-nice-nice message back to Jess wishing her luck with him, and logged out of Facebook.

I had a new life now. In London . . . with Ethan . . . and the baby I was having.

♠

Neil sat across from me and looked more affected than I’d ever seen him in my life.

I didn’t blame him, really. Telling him that we no longer need worry that Brynne might have got tainted food or drink at the gala had been just the start of his shock.

“Blow me down!”

“I’ve waited a week to tell you. We’ve not even shared with our parents yet and she’s been struggling with severe pregnancy sickness.”

He turned his head and winced. “Is that you, E? You should hear yourself speaking.”

“What?” I couldn’t wait until Neil was in my shoes. Hell, he was getting married in a few months and it wouldn’t be far long after that, I’d wager, before he came into my office looking like he’d been brained with a large stick.

“You going on like it’s nothing. You’ll be a dad, mate.”

“Well, what would you like for me to say? It’s not like we planned for her pills to fail, and really, it changes nothing in the end,” I said, sneering. “Thanks for the tip. I am aware.”

Neil cracked a grin. “You’re pleased.” He laughed and shook his head. “You’re quite chuffed about it, aren’t you?”

I was, and I had no reason to lie to him. “Yeah, I am. I’m marrying her too. And it will happen well before you and Elaina do it,” I challenged, daring him to raise an eyebrow about that. “The sooner the announcement goes out wide the better, I say. Let the senator and his goons read about it in the celebrity gossip. BLACKSTONE TO MARRY AMERICAN MODEL, FIRST CHILD ON THE WAY. The more publicity the better, I say. How about: PREGNANT AMERICAN MODEL BEAUTY WEDS FORMER SF CAPTAIN, SECURITY DETAIL FOR THE ROYAL FAMILY? That sounds a bit better, I think. The guest list will be impressive, I can promise you that much. Every celebrity I know will be getting an invitation. The higher her profile, the more layers they’ll have to break through to get to her. Can you imagine if any U.S. official got caught laying a hand on her now? They’d likely have a war on their hands. The more elevated her celebrity, the harder it becomes for her to ever be a target. It’s calling their bluff, and I’m fully prepared to fuck them quite rudely.” I faked a grin.

Neil nodded. “I’m happy for you, E. Brynne is your cure, anyone with eyes can see that.” He paused before asking, “How does she feel about being a mum?”

I couldn’t help the surge of pride that swelled in me when Neil asked that last bit. “You know how Brynne is. Very sensible about the important things, and this is one of them, but I know she’s frightened like anyone would be. Fuck me, it’s terrifying!” I reached for a Djarum Black and lit it.

“Yeah, but you two will manage to make a go, I’m sure,” Neil said before changing the subject. “How did Len do while I was gone away?”

“Fine. Solid, dependable, Len. In fact, he’s at the flat right now and I imagine as we get closer to opening ceremonies it’ll be Len on her most of the time. I’m going to need you to run things here when I’m off.”

Len was Neil’s replacement for Brynne duties. He drove her wherever she needed to go, and basically guarded the entrance to the flat at any point I wasn’t in there with her. I couldn’t and wouldn’t take the risk that she be exposed to vulnerability. The closer we dug into the Senator Oakley camp the more clues pointed back to the senator’s possible involvement in what I now believed to be cleverly camouflaged hits on Montrose and Fielding. There were clues that Fielding was dead, but no telling when his corpse might make an appearance, if ever. Neil had pegged what was surely Secret Service lurking around Fielding’s abandoned apartment in Los Angeles. That fucker had been taken down, I’d bet my Victoria Cross on it.

“Time to go from here, boss. It’s too late for you to be lurking, and your woman is home alone,” Neil said.

“Agreed on that.” I sighed at the thought of the late nights still to come in the next weeks, took a long drag on my cig and extinguished it. I really was making improvements on tapering down. Sometimes I just let them burn without smoking them.

Neil clapped me on the back as we went out. “So, Dad, we need to get you good and drunk in celebration at first opportunity. You’ve knocked up your girl and you’re getting shackled to boot.” He shook his head again like he was still in shock. “You don’t do anything lightly, do you?”

“ ’Fraid not,” I grumbled.

♠

The flat was dark and silent when I let myself in. All I wanted was to get my hands on her. I always had a moment of panic if I came in and the place felt empty. But that was stupid because it was so damn ridiculously late to be coming home from work and I’d just relieved Len of his duties at the door. Of course she was in the flat! She would be asleep and the place dark.

I ditched my jacket and started working on my tie as I headed for the bedroom. I’m grateful I never made it in there, because I would have had a heart attack when I found our bed empty.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I spotted her stretched out on the sofa, her e-reader set on her stomach, iPod wired up with music, and just took her in. Her long legs tangled in a throw blanket, an arm stretched over her head, hair spread out beneath her.

Only the light from the city shining in through the bay windows lit the room, but it was plenty for me to see her with. She had on a pair of my black silk boxers and a little green top that showed enough of her soft curves to make me hard. It didn’t take much to bring me to life, regardless. The more we were forced to spend time apart, the worse I got with irrational need. I wanted her. All the time. Want. Need. Desire. I was losing my mind and I’m pretty sure Brynne knew it. She worried about me and that knowledge just made me love her all the more. I finally had someone who cared for me because of me, not how I looked or how much brass I happened to have.

Her eyes opened and she found me.

I stayed planted at least seven feet from where she was and kicked off my shoes. She sat up on the couch and stretched, arching her back and chest toward me in invitation.

We still hadn’t spoken a word to each other, but so much had already been communicated. We were going to go at it like beasts and it would be excruciatingly good. Like always. So . . . having a mutual strip show, huh?

Sounds goddamn perfect to me.

Me first. I had more clothes to get rid of than she did. I think I was smiling. If it wasn’t showing on the outside, I had a fucking clown grin going on the inside.

I worked the buttons on my shirt slowly, watching her watch me as her eyes grew smoky. I shrugged it off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I kicked it away with my foot and blinked at her.

Your turn, my beauty.

She did a move that I dearly love, and one she does so well it ought to be illegal. She raised her arms and crossed palms behind her neck and dragged them upward through her hair, flexing her neck in a stretch before bringing her hands back down to the bottom of her skimpy green undershirt. She peeked up at me and paused.

I growled low in my throat. Purely instinctual and utterly impossible to hold in. I needed to devour her right now.

Slowly she pulled the green scrap upward, revealing the satin skin of her stomach, a slight delay over the mound of her breasts, and then a little bounce as they fell free, and the top went on a little fling through the air. She straightened her arms and set them palms down on the couch.

I took a step closer as I whipped my belt out of the loops and dropped it to the floor with a clank. My tongue rolled over my lips as I imagined how her perfect tits would taste once I got to them. So fucking sweet.

I unbuttoned and unzipped and let my trousers fall off my hips. They got the same kick across the hardwood as my shirt had received.

Brynne stuck two fingers in her mouth and pulled them out slowly, circling one of her nipples, now budded up tight and dark pink.

Sweet Christ, I will surely die tonight.

I pegged her hard, willing her to understand me.

I need that mouth of yours on me, baby.

She looked up at me with hooded eyes and intercepted my message. She slipped her hands under the elastic at the waist of my shorts she liked wearing so much, and shifted her hips up, taking them off and along her legs. She dropped the black silk from her fingertips and leaned back like a goddess on a dais, her legs slightly curved, one arm stretched out, one bent at the elbow. It was a pose. Not unlike one she might do for a portrait. But this pose was just for me.

She looked so beautiful I almost didn’t want to move. I needed to drink her in first. I needed to get drunk on her. I could never get enough of looking at my Brynne.

I took a step and got rid of a sock. Another step and I lost the second one. It was just me and my shorts now.

Brynne licked her lips as I moved right to the edge and waited for her to touch me.

My body was wound tight as I could go, my balls ached and it was all I could do not to mount up and get buried inside her.

She sat forward and touched my cock through the silk. I thrust it into her hand and rolled my head back. I felt the shorts going down my thighs and stepped out of them quickly. My shaft was gripped in one hand, my sac in the other. And then I felt her soft tongue on me.

“Fuuuuuuuck, baby . . .” I breathed as she took my cock and worked it in and out of her mouth in deep pulls. She raised her beautiful eyes and met mine as she sucked me to the back of her throat over and over. Hot. Deep. Expertly. I wanted to hold my orgasm off but knew I wouldn’t be able to with the way she was working out my cock. It was too fucking good and I needed it too much. I was lost in her and it felt so goddamn wonderful, I never wanted to be found again. Lost for forever in this moment with her. I could die a happy death right now, and I would definitely be smiling.

“Ahhh, fuuuck, I’m going!”

She pulled off my cock and went for my balls with a lick and a squeeze. I wrapped my fist around the base of my cock and jerked it hard. Once. Twice. Third time and I started to go off right into her open mouth. Sexiest fucking thing ever. My girl taking me down like that, her mouth open with her tongue out, waiting to catch my spunk.

Holy hell, I’ll be doing this again.

A shuddering roar came out of me as I erupted and was blown into next year.

When I became coherent again, I was on my knees with Brynne stroking my hair and my cheek resting on her lap. I was going to need a minute or two to come back down to Earth. “You know how to welcome your man home from a shit day,” I mumbled, starting to roam my hand up her smooth leg.

“I missed you tonight.” She spoke softly and kept rubbing my head. Her touch always felt divine.

“I missed you more,” I said on a groan, “I hate being away from you at night.”

She relaxed a little. I felt the change in her as she loosened under me. I inhaled deeply, breathing in her scent, the floral mixed with her skin that sent me into a sexual haze so very deep I’m sure I buried some of my humanity. My beast appeared at the scent of her arousal. Made me want to do very kinky things to her.

My head came up and my hands went to her knees. I spread her legs before me and stared at her bare pussy. She was beautiful on display for me. Only me? I put that painful thought aside and focused on my treasure for the moment.

“Christ, you’re soaking, my beauty. You need some attention, don’t you?”

“Yes . . .” she whispered, her mouth falling open as she started to breathe heavily.

“I’ve been remiss.” I jerked her hips to the cushion edge sharply and held her open. “You must forgive me.” I blew on her cleft and loved the response I got, undulating hips and a soft, sexy moan. The sounds she could make . . .

My cock was ready for more just from hearing that throaty purr. I dived in and drew a deep lick through her pussy, parting the lips so I could get to work on the nub that made things feel really nice. She bowed her hips up again and made more sexy sounds for me.

I feasted. No other way to describe it. I sucked and licked, nibbled and nipped, and I could have stayed there for a long, long time doing it. The taste of her always made me crazed.

When I felt her tighten around my tongue and the two fingers that had found their way inside her heavenly cunt at some point, I prepared for what was certainly coming. Her all over me.

“Are you ready, baby?” I managed to ask, lips against lips.

“Yeeeees . . .”

Her cry came out soft and drawn low on a vibrating breath. So purely beautiful to me, I almost hated to take her forward and lose the sound of it. “Come for me.” I focused on her clit and clipped my teeth onto it. “Right. Now!”

It was an order, and like other times, she performed to perfection for me. Her whole body arching upward, rolling out a low, shuddered cry from deep within her throat as I pushed my fingers inside and curled them into her.

I watched with my eyes, tasted with my tongue, heard with my ears and felt with my fingers as my beautiful girl reached her climax. The only sense I didn’t use as she came apart was that of speech. There were no words to describe her, nor were there ones I could coherently form in the moment; she was a work of art, and I was speechless.