Uncensored Passion (Men of Passion) (17 page)

“Didn’t their parents intervene?” Kayla asked. “Or did they even know their boys were mistreating the two of you?”

Trey snorted a laugh. “They couldn’t have cared less. All they wanted was the money, and as long as Cindy or I weren’t injured, they gave their sons carte blanche to do whatever they wanted to do to us both.”

“How long were you there?”

“Two years. Then a social worker came around one day right after the three had jumped me and beaten the shit out of me because I rode one of their bikes, and she immediately took me out of there.”

Trey shook his head, remembering the irony of his thoughts at that time.

“Man, I thought that was the best thing ever, getting away from the Donovans. But five months later I was placed with the Samsons and realized real fast there were worse things than being picked on by three older boys.”

Kayla snuggled against him, sympathizing with his pain, realizing his cathartic need to tell all of it now that he had begun.

“What happened there?”

Trey was quiet for so long Kayla wondered if he was going to answer her when he suddenly began speaking again, his voice low and guttural, as though the words were being pulled from the depths of his injured soul.

“Deke and Marion Samson. They were quite a pair. As far as the world knew, they were the perfect couple. Had a nice home, two nice cars, good clothes, went to church every Sunday. He was a well-known lawyer and a deacon in the church. They were pillars of the community.

“They had one daughter, Doreen, and convinced everyone their life was complete now that they had taken me in, and I’m quoting what he said because I remember hearing him say it so often, ‘I have the son I always wanted.’

“At first, I thought I had finally landed in a place I could call home, with people who wanted me. I even had decent clothes to wear to school, instead of hand-me-downs.

“It was great for the first month. Then I started noticing things that didn’t seem right, that I really didn’t understand but sensed were off-kilter in some way. Looks passed between them and the girl, whispered innuendoes, Doreen’s strange mannerisms whenever her father came near her or touched her. Things like that.”

“The girl was afraid of her father?” Kayla prompted when he grew quiet again.

“Doreen was three years older than me. Eleven. She was pretty and big for her age, kind of tall and gangly. She was always so quiet and sad-looking. I couldn’t figure out why at first. I could tell she was unhappy, but I didn’t understand why because it seemed to me that she had everything—until the night I saw her father go into her room.

“I’d gotten up to get a glass of milk from the kitchen. He didn’t know I saw him. I was passing her door, which he hadn’t fully closed and I watched him as he—ah—dropped his pants and made her give him oral sex. Damn, it shocked me.

“Doreen didn’t make a sound, just did what he wanted. Like she’d done it a thousand times before, and I suddenly knew that she had. I almost went to Mrs. Samson. I wanted to tell her, but I was afraid to. Later I would discover that she knew about it, that she was just as twisted as he was.”

Kayla emitted a curse word and Trey nodded. “Yeah. God only knows what a lot of foster kids live through. What you said before, about some people never having children? That was right on the money.

“I told Doreen the next day that I had seen what her father had made her do, and she was scared to death I would tell someone else. She begged me not to, said he would beat her and me, too, if I did. Said she’d been doing that as long as she could remember and it didn’t bother her anymore.

“It turned out Mr. Samson—Deke—overheard us talking. He came storming into the room, took me to the bathroom, stripped me naked, and beat the hell out of me with his belt, warning me to keep my mouth shut or I’d get worse. He was careful not to leave marks where anyone could see. That happened on Saturday. Sunday we went to church like the perfect family.”

Trey snorted his disgust.

“Mrs. Samson sang in the choir and I sat with Doreen and Deke, squirming because my butt was raw and hurt, until he pinched my arm and whispered in my ear that if I didn’t sit still I would be sorry when he got me home. He said that with a smile in case anyone was looking at us, ruffling my hair as he straightened back up. He had the act down pat.

“When we did get home, I heard the two of them talking. He was saying that he thought it was okay to start with me now because I knew better than to talk. He said I wouldn’t be any good to her in the way she really liked because I hadn’t matured enough to fuck like a man, but she could have fun developing me. That’s how he put it. Developing me, teaching me how to satisfy her the way Doreen satisfied him.”

“Dear God!”

“Yeah, they were both perverted as hell. And that was the night it began. There was no longer any pretense. We all slept in the bed together—or rather, we didn’t sleep for the most part. Doreen would be servicing him while I was forced to service her.”

Kayla was aghast. “Did you tell the social worker? Surely they were checking on you.”

“They checked occasionally, but what they saw was carefully orchestrated: a boy who was kept clean, well fed, well clothed, in a nice home with two seemingly loving parents and a foster sister who all doted on him. That was the picture we presented, what Doreen and I knew we had to present if we didn’t want to suffer later.”

Kayla squeezed his hand, in lieu of words she knew would be inadequate.

“When you did mature, you were forced to fuck her?”

“Yes. I matured early, at thirteen. I never understood why they didn’t just fuck each other, but they never did. I found out later from Doreen that her mother had had a hysterectomy after she was born. We both decided that after that, evidently Deke just didn’t find her appealing anymore.

“He was just into Doreen giving him oral sex and she, Marion, just wanted me. And they both enjoyed watching. So I guess you could say we had an orgy every night. Of course, once I started climaxing, I kind of got addicted to it.

“Marion Samson was a good-looking woman, so it wasn’t like I was fucking a hag. But when Deke realized I had started to act like I enjoyed it too much, he got jealous and mad. That’s when he started to—ah—periodically beat me.

“Thinking on it now, I know he was taking out his impotent rage on me. He had this leather strap that he used. He would soak it beforehand, ‘to give it more of a stinging slap,’ he said. Every time I saw him doing that, I knew what was coming. But the blows were always on my back or butt, never where anyone could see the signs.

“And the older I got, the bigger my dick got, the more jealous he became. Crazy, huh? He didn’t want to fuck her and he wanted me to, made me do it, in fact, but he didn’t want me to enjoy it.

“We were one screwed up bunch. I was really messed up in my head by then. Even though I knew the way we lived was wrong, I just accepted it as right because it was the only way I knew. So I both looked forward to our nights and dreaded them. I knew it would start out good and I’d get my rocks off, but then I’d be punished.”

“Damn. How long did you stay in that awful hellhole?”

“I ran away when I was fifteen, but they found me and brought me back. Deke talked the authorities out of putting me back in the system, said I was just going through a teenage phase and he loved me enough to stand by me. So they put me back in their household.”

“What did he do to you for running away?”

“He whipped me, worse than he ever had before, and then locked me in my bathroom for two weeks. Naked. No food. I got water from the faucet. When he let me out, after I promised never to run away again, I was pretty weak. Took me about a month to get over that.”

“How did he explain your absence? At school and church?”

“Told everybody I had the flu. I hate to admit it, but that just sort of broke my spirit. I didn’t try to run away again. I stayed and did what they wanted me to until I was eighteen. The beatings stopped, though, when I turned seventeen and had a growth spurt. I was taller than Deke was, and I think he was afraid I’d fight back. Then, as soon as I graduated and turned eighteen, I left to join the Army.”

“And you didn’t ever tell?”

“Not until after I finally left. I tried to tell the authorities then, but nobody believed me. Other than that, you’re the first person I’ve ever told everything. Though I did confide some of it to a great chaplain I met in the Army. He got me to realize that I was laboring under a ton of guilt. He helped me to finally forgive myself. It was crazy. I was the one who was abused, but I felt guilty.”

“Yes, that’s not uncommon.”

Trey pulled her closer. “This guy had suffered as a kid, too, and he helped me to come to terms with it all. Up till then I couldn’t even have a decent relationship with a woman.”

Oh, Devon, I’m so sorry.”

“But hey, it’s in the past. And you know what they say, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. But as far as the future goes, I’d like an old-fashioned one.”

“Old-fashioned?”

“Yes. A regular home, maybe even with the proverbial white picket fence, with a wife and kids who wouldn’t have to worry about being beaten or made to do unspeakable things. Just an ordinary, old-fashioned life. That’s what I want, Kayla. Isn’t that what you want?”

She contemplated her answer only briefly before saying, “No.”

Trey rose up, turned on the bedside lamp, and propped on an elbow to stare down at her in surprise. “No?”

“I don’t know that I believe in marriage, Devon, at least not in the sense you do.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I do believe in commitment.”

“That’s what marriage is, Kayla.”

“Not necessarily. Sometimes a marriage degenerates into an obstructive cohesiveness because marriage is the socio-political norm, leaving two individuals tied together in misery.”

“Don’t psychobabble talk me. Just say what you mean, Kayla.”

“I mean a piece of paper and some person saying words over you doesn’t make you any more married than a sincerely vocalized commitment ceremony.”

“So you believe two people should just live together without getting married, so either one can walk away without regret if they so choose?”

“You can walk away whether you’re married or not, Devon.”

“I know that, but there’s something more binding about an actual marriage ceremony. I’d like to think the woman I loved would love me back enough to want to marry me, carry my name, and have my children.”

Kayla was silent, nursing that sinking feeling that had begun when this conversation about conventional marriage and home had started.

As their eyes locked, Kayla thought
, somehow I already knew Devon was this kind of man. He’s definitely a one-on-one, you’re-all-mine kind of guy. So why am I disappointed?

Devastated was the more appropriate word for how she suddenly felt. The answer hit her hard. She was crazy about this man, this virtual stranger, who had so casually wandered into her life and now dominated her senses. Sure, all her partners were wonderful and all could satisfy her, but none had electrified her feelings in the way Devon Walker had managed to do with his astounding lovemaking that had left her wanting more and more.

And she had to walk away from him. She knew that.

It would never work for us. Devon will never consent to being a fifth mate and I cannot—will not —discard the four wonderful men already in my life.

The thought tied her stomach in knots.

“Why so quiet?” Devon asked as he kissed her forehead and pulled her close.

“I was just thinking of something I failed to do.”

“Put business out of your mind tonight, Kayla. Let’s just concentrate on the two of us.”

I wish it were just the two of us,
she thought and then was shocked by the idea. For the first time in her life, Kayla was uncertain of her own desires. How could she have been so blissfully happy only a few short days ago, before Devon Walker had stalked into her office like a prize thoroughbred and disrupted her entire world?

She suddenly sat up and pushed away from him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have to go.”

“Go? Kayla, it’s after ten. I thought we were spending the night together.”

“Sorry. I just remembered something important that slipped my mind, something I need to prepare at home.”

Yes, it slipped my mind that I have four devoted men waiting for me, who love me and trust me, who share my beliefs without reservation,
she thought as that old saying her mother had often quoted to her came to mind: “You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”

As she slid off the bed and began gathering her clothes, Kayla fought back a flash of tears.
What’s wrong with me? I barely know Devon Walker! How can I be so devastated that I probably won’t ever see him again
?

Trey reached out and caught her arm, forcing her to look at him as he stood beside her. “Kayla? Look at me. What’s wrong? Is it because I told you about how I was raised?”

“No, Devon, of course not. I just have to go. It’s been—wonderful. I won’t ever forget you.”

“That sounds like a permanent goodbye. I won’t accept that. At least not without an explanation.”

“Let’s just say I suddenly realized we are from two different worlds, Devon, and there’s no future for us. Please don’t write unfavorably about me. Since you have such old-fashioned ideas about love and marriage, you probably think I’m morally deficient, even scandalous, the way I made love to you, even though we’d just met.”

“I think you’re an amorous, wonderful woman, Kayla. This has been the best day of my life. And as far as that damned article goes, don’t worry about that. Nothing that happened between us will ever be publicized.”

She pulled away and continued dressing. Once she was fully clothed, she kissed him passionately. “Goodbye, Devon Walker.”

Trey’s electric blue eyes flashed angrily. “It’s
not
goodbye. Just so long, because I intend to see you again, Kayla. Dammit, I won’t let you just walk out of my life as though we haven’t meant anything to each other—because we have, and not just as casual lovers. It’s much more than that, and you know it.”