Page 5 of Our Unexpected Beginning (Club Surrender #4)

If he wasn’t careful he’d find himself at home and content. But they weren’t there yet–he hoped she’d give them the chance to get there.

He’d been in a sour mood before Julia showed up. He’d received the fifth phone call in the span of a week asking for comments about his feelings on his father’s passing.

Genetic donation laced in scandal doesn’t grant you the honor of the title father.

Graham didn’t know his opinions on the matter were even relevant. Moving away hadn’t quelled the ebb and flow of curiosity.

He was the bastard son of Vincent Rutford. Senator Rutford.

It wasn’t something that was glossed over forty years ago. His mother was a classic case of the maid sleeping with the boss. Dueling rumors spread wondering if it was an affair or assault. The signed and sealed gag order and stuffed bank account kept the mill unanswered.

It didn’t stop the town gossip from spreading like wildfire that it was a failed entrapment attempt and that somehow his mother had nefarious ideals as a woman a few months into her eighteenth year .

Secrets and lies turned into him and Kat moving in with their mother’s parents when he was twelve. Since his mother’s death, he considered himself an orphan.

A heart attack in his sleep. It didn’t affect Graham in any way. How can you miss someone you never knew? Sure, there were stores. Factual and otherwise, but hearing about someone is different from their living experience.

No, he didn’t have any comment. He had no regrets. No, he wasn’t going to the funeral. No, he wasn’t going to contact his half-brother about family fortune or otherwise.

Graham wanted to live his life, take whatever was coming, and hope to God that it involved the ravishing firecracker sprawled on the couch, waiting for him.

The oven timer went off, and he set to work putting together the makeshift spread for them: nuggets, fries, and a bowl of berries and cheese he’d found in the fridge that had not been lost nor forgotten.

Graham brought the tray over to the couch and placed it on the coffee table, sitting next to Julia. He pulled her feet up and laid them over his lap, her skin soft and warm to the touch. They both smelled of her orange vanilla body wash.

Julia leaned over and grabbed a french fry off of the tray he brought. “Wow, I’m impressed.”

“It is your kitchen after all.”

“That’s why I’m impressed. I didn’t think I had much left. I’ve been with Mel a lot lately. ”

“You have all the basic needs that you’d find in a frat house. I can still speak Greek, I felt right at home.” He pulled a fry from the tray, noticing that Julia was picking through the chicken alphabet nuggets he’d made. “Do you like them made differently?” He’d make a note for next time.

“No, they’re perfect.” He watched her systematically baptize the nuggets in buffalo to the ranch, then back to buffalo before putting it on her plate. She scowled at the O nugget that entangled itself with the T. The latter won and she ate it happily. He found her endearing.

“So,” Graham brushed Julia’s damp hair from her neck.

Her pulse thrummed beneath his touch, he brushed his fingers over her skin as if it was the first time.

Touching and tending to her was his form of aftercare, and one he noticed she thrived under even if it wasn’t a conversation they’d had as of yet.

He’d realized that it was poor practice on his part. He’d have to rectify it.

Instead of stewing around the subject, he thought it would be better to be straightforward.

“I think we should talk about limits.”

“So you have a better view of the goalpost?”

Fuck he loved her smart mouth.

“Has anyone said you’re a Brat before?”

“Not many in a way that’s made me not want to punch them in the jaw.”

He wondered if that was a sore spot, something to steer clear from but needed tending to at some point in time .

“You have Little tendencies like Melody?” Graham wasn’t picking her apart.

“Nah, I don’t think of it that way. Mel always says she ‘feels smaller’ and I don’t. I just like coloring and saying fuck responsibilities sometimes.”

“I see, that makes sense.”

“I’m ’bout as Little as you are a Daddy .“ Julia sassed him good-naturedly. “I mean, it was hot at the moment.”

“Watching you come apart under me was hotter.” She had the most beautiful pink flush that reached her ears.

Graham handed her a bottle of water with a silent nudge to drink. He was pleased that she didn’t balk or huff. Only setting the bottle down when it was half empty.

“Any implements you have an aversion to?”

“I haven’t been into intense play, but I can think of nothing. Although the idea of a whip or vampire gloves doesn’t sound like something I’d like to visit.”

“Noted.”

“Not a fan of gags. They seem suffocating. I’ve seen some intense ones at the club.”

“That’s not something you’ll have to worry about.” Graham gripped her under the chin. “I want to hear every sound you make. I want the whole club to hear you cry and beg for another inch of my cock.”

“Yes, Sir.” She shifted and rubbed her legs together. Graham gripped her calves and met her gaze, filled with promises of things to come .

Julia set the bottle aside and leaned on the cushions with her elbow. She looked him over. “So what makes you tick as a Dominant?”

“Everyone says control. For me, it’s about trust. I don’t think I’d ever look for someone who wanted it all the time. TPE or twenty-four-seven isn’t my thing. But I’ll always care for my submissive’s needs, in and out of a scene.”

“I enjoy coming to the club, but it isn’t a need.” She sat her plate on the tray.

“It’s not nice to tell lies.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I don’t love hanging out with the group, we’re expanding as fast as Nolan can get Mia pregnant.” They laughed together. Mia and Nolan had welcomed their son Ben a few months prior.

“I don’t need all of the equipment, I guess.” She shrugged.

“Oh, I love a resourceful woman who can make any household item pervertible.”

Julia’s grin widened and she scooted closer to Graham. “When Mel moved in with Wes, I bought her two sets of wooden spoons.” She chuckled at the memory. “One for the kitchen…”

It was Graham’s turn to laugh. It was a deep belly chuckle that shook her on the couch next to him. “So that’s why she blushes when we all get together for dinner! ”

Julia gasped. “Wait, wait. Oh my god, you’re right! I didn’t think about that until, Oh fuck, I’m not letting her live this down!”

Their laughter settled into quiet, he rubbed her legs idly while she scrawled on her sketch pad more details she needed for Mia’s wedding dress.

“So,” Graham pointed to the photo frame on the wall above them. “Whose all the mugs?”

She looked in the direction of his point to the photo of a group of adults sitting around a fire and two kids–a boy and a younger girl–feeding marshmallows into the fire.

“Oh, that’s George, Uncle Steven, and Aunt Elaine, my mom ‘never called me Cassie’ Cassandra at my aunt and uncle’s cabin in Denver.” Julia rambled, running off the pictured family members, complete with air quotes. It made her even more endearing to him.

“I think I was six or seven. That one over next to it is me when I was at my brother Devin’s graduation.” Julia beamed with sadness and pride.

Graham reached over and touched her arm. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t talk about him much anymore.”

“Is he away?” Her face lost its color as sadness took over her features. “Or oh, you don’t have to.” He hated that he started such a sore subject and soured her mood.

“He died a few years ago. It’s put a rift in an already torn family. He was the one person who got me. I mean my Aunt Elaine is amazing, but Dev–he got me without me having to say anything. He wanted to be a Marine. ”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. Sometimes I’ll have to stop myself from calling his old number when I have big news to share. The moments matter, if you tell someone or not, but it’s nice to tell someone who’ll care.”

“You can always tell me, Jules. You can always tell me and I promise to listen.”