Yours Truly, Taddy Read online

  “Uh-huh. I did. But right now, I wanna go home.”

  “Heard ‘ya the first time, girlie.” Vive looked back at the beach, to where my attention had been all along. “Did something happen out in the water with Leon? You don’t seem like yourself.”

  “Umm Viveca, I was sucked out of a plane and left at sea with nothing but a life jacket. No, I’m not myself. Not anymore.” Avoiding the conversation, I walked over a drawbridge made of gold. Eden’s castle, like something out of a fairytale, was over the top.

  “Hold up.”

  I stopped, glancing over the edge. A moat was filled with colorful fish.

  “You can talk about it, if you want to. I’ll listen.” Her chin rested against my shoulder as she wrapped her arms around me.

  “Promise to refrain from giving me your sassy opinion?” I turned and studied Vive’s face, assessing any traces of self-control. Hmmm.

  “I swear.” She crossed her heart.

  I held onto the cast-iron railing, glancing at four fish swimming together, side-by-side. “Out there, I thought about life and death. About what would happen if I’d lost you guys?” I blinked away a tear.

  “Honey, don’t cry. Your life would go on without us.”

  “No, it won’t, and I don’t think it would for you either.”

  Vive froze. Her entire body tensed. She knew what I meant.

  I waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. So I provoked her and reminded, “After watching you unbuckle your seatbelt, I’m not sure you believe what’s coming out of your own mouth, because I sure as heck don’t. You wanted to die up there, Vive.”

  “I did not!” Vive seethed through her teeth.

  “Do not insult our friendship and lie to me. So help me, I’ll throw you over this railing into the moat.”

  I would too.

  “Taddy…” The whites of her eyes doubled.

  “Tell me what was going through your pretty, bleach-blond-head when you unbuckled.”

  “No!”

  “You handed Hedda off to Lex. That dog would die without you in her life. And you just tossed Hedda away like your friends would take care of her.” Without thinking, the words flew out of me. I felt sick after I spoke. I didn’t want to hear her answer. But I had to know.

  “I’ve already apologized to Lex and Blake, who finally agreed to drop it. I’ll apologize to you too. I’m sorry for wanting to die up there. Now…let it go.”

  I grabbed her tight, my face pressed up against hers. “You promised us you’d never do that again.”

  A span of our lives together had been spent in darkness. Once before, Vive had tried to kill herself. We’d been in juvie. Somehow she’d gotten her hands on a knife from the cafeteria. After we’d gone to bed, she’d slashed her wrists.

  Her eyes had changed colors again from white to red. “Don’t remind me. Last night none of us slept between worrying about you, and Lex and Blake going off on me about that non-stop.” Rubbing her forearm against her nose, she fought back a sob.

  Pulling her close, I hugged her. “I’m…sorry.”

  With her breath in my ear, she muttered, “We had a moment on board where everything started to shake. All I thought about was Sanderloo and the night he died. I wanted to punish myself.”

  Hearing Vive’s reasons made my own problems with Leon feel embarrassingly small. “We’ve gone over this a million times. If the state of Connecticut can clear us of all charges, than so can we. We gotta forgive ourselves.”

  “Taddy, I’m allowed to stumble. Maybe…I’ll never be one hundred percent. And if that’s the case, than I’ve made peace with that, which in my own way is me forgiving myself.”

  “We’ve got too much to live for now. There’s college, our future.”

  “I swear on Hedda, I won’t ever try again.” She cupped her hands with mine. “I’m looking forward to school. If you want the money, girlie, it’s yours. We’ll catch the boat in two days.”

  We walked into the castle.

  “Look honey, that’s the pretty lady that got sucked out of the plane,” a passenger said.

  “Thank heavens you’re alive,” someone else exclaimed.

  The building was impressive and dramatic, like nothing I’d ever seen before. I’d set foot in another world. You know, that look that some amusement parks have, where everything is pristine and picture perfect, so much so it appears fake, almost tacky.

  Not here at Eden.

  Idyllic yet real, this place felt good. There seemed to be something intangible in the air causing everyone to smile, especially me.

  I introduced myself to the Eden staff. They called their doctor and wanted me to get an exam to make sure I didn’t have a concussion or anything from the crash. After all, I had been sucked out of an airplane and plopped into the middle of sea.

  Two hours later, the Eden doctor told me that aside from my scrapes and bruises, everything seemed fine.

  I ate two servings of Eggs Benedict in Lex’s room with her and Vive. Hedda sat on my lap which, oddly enough, gave me a huge feeling of calmness. We drank a pitcher of mimosas and talked about our college days ahead.

  Did I tell them about Leon?

  Hells no! I couldn’t. Shame? Perhaps. I didn’t want to hear it from them. They’d think I was a freak of nature, finding these two guys hot and all. I mean really.

  When I went into Blake’s room, he was sound asleep. Vive had mentioned that the pain medication the Eden nurse had given made him drowsy. And that he’d been up most of the night hollering at her just as I had just done.

  A tea pot steeped in our room. The Master had sent it up with lemon wedges to help my nerves. He’d had some sundresses in various bright colors and sandals in size large, placed in my closet. I ran a bath, filling the basin with a creamy paste the Master had promised would alleviate the abrasions on my skin.

  While I waited for the bathwater to get to a temperature I liked, I sat on the edge of Blake’s bed and drank the tea.

  His hands were the only part of him that wasn’t blistered from the fire. I could tell that his scars were going to be bad.

  “Taddy…” he muttered. His piercing gray eyes opened.

  “Hey, babe.” I leaned down and planted a peck on his lips.

  “Did a spaceship drop your hot ass off here? One of those Pod People took over your body, didn’t they?” He joked and tried to sit up.

  “I wish,” I said, taking him against my bosom. Then I fixed his pillows on his bed and we talked for a while about the accident.

  “Maybe you should skip college, you know, enter the Olympics for swimming.” Blake swiped the mug out of my hand and took a sip.

  “Leon could. He’s a great swimmer,” I said, feeling my lips curve into a grin when saying his name.

  “I’m sure he is, boo.” Blake’s manicured eyebrows arched.

  “Did you know he and Fabian were together?”

  “Nope. Not until last night when Fabian had a breakdown. He was convinced you two were goners.”

  “Vive mentioned it.”

  “You were right about Fabian. But I never saw that Leon thing coming,” he pouted. “I’ve put a call in to Mother Nature and asked her to repair my gaydar. Apparently it’s broken.”

  “Hahaha! Well, are they gay or bi?”

  “Potato, patato—tomato, tamato.”

  “Huh?”

  “Does it matter? They both suck cock. Who cares!” Blake’s sarcasm, that I’d grown to love over the years, never ceased.

  “Jealous?” I thought about Leon and Fabian as Blake described them, sucking one another’s cock.

  “No, boo. School starts in one week. I’m sure I’ll make some new friends. Ones who don’t get us arrested like Vive, blown up like Lex, or plane crashed like y-o-u.” He put a hand up to his face as if suddenly realizing he might be starting class not yet healed.

  “What-the-flip-ever.” I had to keep his spirits up. “You’d be lost without us.”

  “Ditto.” He r
olled over on his side.

  “Let me ask you something. Do you ever think about being with a woman?”

  “I tried that already. Remember?” Blake smirked.

  During our sophomore year—or was it our junior year—Blake had slept with a girl before coming out. He said he had to try it just once to make sure he wasn’t straight. He’d owed his family at least that much.

  Blake told us the girl had made him swear he’d never tell a soul. And he hadn’t.

  When I’d agreed to help him come out to his family at his parent’s house on Thanksgiving, he’d said, “Mom, Dad, I had sex with a girl at school. It’s not for me.”

  “Have you tried having sex with a boy?” his mother had asked.

  “No. Not really.”

  With relief his mom had cried out, “Good—”

  “But I want to.” Blake had admitted.

  His father moved his dinner plate to one side and had said encouragingly, “Son, maybe you should try another girl, a redhead like this Tabitha Adelaide.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Morgan had expressed mixed emotions that day. In time they became more accepting of their son’s sexuality.

  “Of course I remember that you tried the opposite sex. I just wondered if you ever thought about trying it again.”

  “No way, no how!”

  I ran my hands over the plush, blue comforter that Blake’s legs were lost under. “Want me to bring you anything?” I got to my feet, looking down at him.

  “You’re alive. I got my VBF back. That’s enough for today, don’t cha think?”

  “More tea?” I asked, as Blake nodded. “Let me call downstairs and have a new pot sent up. I’ll leave the door cracked so you don’t have to get up. Okay?”

  “Sounds good. Now, go bathe, girl. Ya smell! I’m going back to sleep for a bit.” He closed his eyes.

  “I love you, Blake Morgan the third.” I hoped that addressing him by his formal name from time to time would remind him of how important he was. Not just to me, but to his community. Blake’s parents are prominent upstanding people in New England society who love their gay son very much.

  “VBF, I heart you more.” Blake snapped his fingers for me to get to the bathroom. “Go before it gets cold.”

  Exhausted in the bathtub, I pressed my back against the marble and closed my eyes. Images of Leon flashed before me, his sweet face, those big muscles, that thick cock. Slipping my hand into the milky water, I rubbed my sensitive clit.

  Moaning softly, I submerged deeper into the water, releasing tension. I tried my best to relax…

  The bathroom door opened.

  With a turn, I expected to see Blake.

  “Bonjour Tabby,” Fabian said my name incorrectly in a playful voice. Stepping in, he closed the door.

  Covering my breasts with a nearby hanging towel I shouted, “Get outta here, Fabian!”

  Not listening, he came closer. Black, cat-eyes focused on me. “We need to talk.”

  “I’ve got nothing to say to you, your lover, or that photographer. I quit.”

  “Tabby!” The b’s rolled off his tongue.

  I stood, water dripping from between my legs. Fuck this. I tossed my towel on the floor and glanced down to where I’d looked every morning when he’d done my makeup—at the large bulge in his pants.

  Clear as day under his shorts, Fabian’s erection stood nice and firm. It’d be so easy to reach out and feel his length. God, I wanted to.

  “Let me dry you.” He rolled up his sleeves, revealing his strong forearms.

  “No,” I said, but I didn’t mean it.

  “Oui.” He scooped up the towel.

  Turning my back, I allowed him to towel-off my shoulders. Okay, I’ll be honest, my nipples pebbled. Fabian Henry turned me on. He was exotic. But I wasn’t going to let him know that.

  “This week…I’ve washed your hair.” He ran his strong fingers up, then down, the back of my neck. My pulse quickened.

  “Yup.” I tried to act as if this was just work. Inhaling the head scent of his tuberose, I knew Fabian hadn’t come to talk about Claire Le Femme.

  “Every day I’ve dressed and undressed you.” The coarse cotton fibers raked over my backside, followed a gentle buff from his palm as he massaged, almost kneading at my flesh.

  OMFG! My eyes rolled into the back of my head. On instinct, I spread my legs a smidge. Air, I need to breathe. God, it’s hot as hell in here. “Fabian—”

  “All week I’ve looked after you and cared for you.” He spun me around. “And you go and give yourself to my boyfriend.”

  Unable to make eye contact with him, I focused my attention on the marble floor. “I didn’t know.”

  His fingers, the ones that every morning painted my face, pressed over my lips shushing me. “Don’t speak. Not yet. I’m not done.” He extended his hand and pointed to a nearby chair next to the sink.

  Holding on to him, I stepped out of the tub and made my way over.

  “Sit.” He ordered.

  I did and then he dropped to his knees beside me.

  “Every night I have painted these toes.” He lifted one foot up, dried my calf, and pressed his lips firmly on the sole of my foot. His full, beautiful lips kissed the tip of my big toe. Then he sucked it. Long. Deep. Up. Down. I imagined that’s how he sucked Leon’s dick.

  My mouth hung open. What the frickin’ A was going on? Just as I went to pull myself up in the chair, his grip around my leg tightened.

  “Umm.” I bit back a moan.

  Dark eyes narrowing, he raised his chin and spoke in a deep voice, “Je veux t’enculer.”

  “I want to fuck you,” I echoed his words, feeling that melting, Klondike-bar, action all over again.

  “Oui!”

  Sweet bi-gay-a-licious.

  Princess Lolly

  The Eden Castle

  A low whimper escaped the back of my throat.

  Done talking, he nipped at my clit.

  My legs were tossed up over his shoulders. He growled in French. I held onto the edge of my seat as if the chair might set sail for Bermuda. Who needs Air Carribea when you had Fabian Henry’s tongue lapping at your flesh?

  Him, me, this, everything was happening at light speed.

  Fabian’s hands slid under my buttocks pulling me into him, close and tight. With a slight tap, Fabian spanked me, and I liked it. The pad of his thumb poked at my anus.

  “Nooo.” I squirmed. My front door had just been opened, and here he was trying to bust into the back. Not gonna happen.

  With a lick of his finger he replied, “Oui, Tabby. I will have your mouth, your pussy, and this tight, little derrière.” Seeming possessed, Fabian wasn’t the soft spoken, tuberose smelling, flirtatious man I thought he’d be when it came to foreplay.

  Nope. Unlike Leon, they were both so different. I tried not to make a comparison. But how couldn’t I? It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and here I was already in another man’s arms.

  French-fuck-orama!

  If I kept this up, I’d be labeled a whore by my nineteenth birthday. The very thing I wanted to avoid.

  From between my legs, his adorable face peered up at me, “Stop!”

  “What?”

  “Such an American. You are thinking.”

  I leaned forward. “I can’t help but think. I’ve never had a man, ummm—”

  “Give you oral pleasure?” He asked, as a single line ran across his forehead in surprise.

  “No, monsieur,” I mocked his French accent.

  “Allow me this pleasure. S'il vous plait.”

  I was shaky at the revelation that he wanted me. It was a powerful thing, arousing him. Or should I say my vajayjay did. This man was putty in my hands. “Keep speaking French and say my name over and over again.” Getting my confidence, I grabbed onto his black, wavy curls, the ones I’d dreamt about fingering on the plane ride.

  He returned his focus to between my legs.

  I knuckled a death grip on his hairline. Every tim
e I’d get close to climax, I’d open my eyes and realize what the flip was going on. I couldn’t sum it up for any sane person to understand. A hum here, and a hum there, and my body hummed all over.

  Toes curled.

  He spoke to me in French between tongue lashings. Fabian’s hands ran up my inner thighs, and then his short nails raked me on the way down. First, gentle. The second time, not so much. He increased pressure, causing everything all over my body to become extra sensitive.

  “Come on my face,” he said. His words sent a shiver racing down my spine.

  Did I hear you correctly? Drunk in ecstasy, I gazed at him. “Say what?”

  In French Fabian repeated his orgasm-on-demand command. Determined, he lifted me off the chair and onto the floor.

  On top of him, I knelt over his striking face.

  “Relax.” His grip on my ass was firm. That long freaky tongue, all of it, probed me.

  Leaning forward, I owned my vajayjay power. So close. Every part of me was on fire. All of a sudden, I felt his wet tongue, licking where his thumb had been moments before.

  WTF!

  I tried to get up.

  He snarled, “Mademoiselle, as I said, your derrière is mine.”

  Sweet booty-licious. My hands on his shoulder, I gyrated my hips.

  He moaned, pushing his tongue past the ring of muscle.

  Forbidden excitement pinged through me. I wanted to make this feeling last as if time stood still but the pressure built up faster than I realized. Frantic, I flicked my clit and arched my back.

  “Come, woman. I want to drink you,” he begged.

  With a slight bounce, I held onto his shoulders, feeling the wave of my orgasm washing over me, “Yes! Fabian.” Eyes shut tight, explosions of color pulsed behind my eyelids, enough to where I let go and fell beside him.

  On our backs, we lay there for a minute, speechless, panting.

  “You are—”

  There was a loud, rapping thud at the door.

  It took us both by surprise.

  I got to my feet and reached for my robe, cinching it around my waist.

  Fabian, who was still fully clothed, sat up and said, “Enter.”

  Gustave. From the look on his face, he wasn’t pleased.