Page 11 of The Devil’s Detail (The Greystone Family: Greystone Brothers #2)

“Your voice, how you speak about her. I’m so sad you might not see her again. She obviously likes you. Surely it was more than just pleasure.”

She’s always about the emotions, but clearly Mr Bonney was not.

I shrug, a little helplessly. “They haven’t been back to reconnect.

I handed over my details a few weeks later and said if they did contact the club to give my details out.

Someone has to make the first move. But so far, nothing.

I’ve got to move on. Regardless of how stupefying the night was.

” I wink at her to try to lighten the mood. “They’ll be back. I’m irresistible.”

She’s studying me harder now, her brow furrowed. “Did you speak to Jonno about it?”

“A little, but very generically. I wanted to, but I did sign an NDA and really couldn’t go into details.

I wouldn’t break their trust either. I would hate that were it done to me.

I knew the score before they arrived. Clearly security and secrecy was a major issue for this person.

I could have said no and left. I could have called a halt at any time throughout that night. But I didn’t want to.”

I think about my next statement before sharing it.

“To be honest, I was enjoying myself too much. I could have gone on longer. I wanted more. Handing myself over to them, letting someone else control your every move. Be in charge of your pleasure. A person who knows what to do and how to do it. So fucking staggering. Astoundingly breathtaking, in fact. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that. ”

I’ve rambled on too long, she’s going to have a heart attack from the details I’ve shared. But then she totally surprises me. She really is very astute.

“You know, Jackson, throughout the whole of your little tale, I’ve been identifying the person you were with as she/her.

Yet you’ve identified them as they/them.

My question is, is that how they asked to be identified?

” Her eyes are trained on my face and body, watching for my reaction.

“Or is it because they weren’t a she/her but a he/him and you just have not wanted to say? ”

She sits back in her chair, and it’s then that I see the tears falling from her eyes. My heart rate picks up. I hate her being upset. I certainly have that in common with her husbands Marcus Russell and Xander Barclay.

“What’s the matter, Kitten?” I call her by her family nickname as I take her hand in mine. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m upset that you didn’t feel you could say if you had been with a man.

I love you, Jackson. I don’t care who you are with, have sex with, don’t have sex with, and love.

I love you, brother. And if you love them or want them or whatever it is that’s happened, I will love them. As long as they are loving you.”

I wipe the tears from her eyes and close mine.

I didn’t mean to upset her, I just didn’t know if I wanted to divulge everything to the whole of the family at this point in time.

And I didn’t mean to play around with pronouns.

I feel bad. Like I’ve used a serious issue for my own gain.

Oh God, I need to rectify this, and quickly.

“I was with a man. And he didn’t identify as they/them. I just used that to avoid saying it. It was never my intention to offend or upset you. And I was going to tell you, I just didn’t know how, or if there would even be anything to say.”

She starts to cry and I wrap my arms around her. Trying not to crush the baby between us.

“Why didn’t you say? Do you think I’m bothered if you’re gay? Or bi or anything? I’m not, Jackson. I just want you to be loved and be happy. End of story for all of us.” Her eyes shine into mine.

“I know. It’s just… I’ve never been in this position before.

I left the club on a total high. I’ve had sex with men in the past—all very casual, and not normally my preference—but I’ve never had sex like that.

Because that night, what he did… Well, it blew my mind.

And that takes a bit of doing,” I state with awe and confusion. It’s a bizarre mix.

We sit for a while in comfortable silence and then she asks, “And you have no idea who he is? No distinguishing marks, voice, anything?”

“No. And believe me, I have been on high alert. It’s not as if I can say to you, yeah he sounded like this person or that person. He didn't. He just sounded like himself. Seriously posh, and seriously British. All very stiff upper lip.”

“A Brit. Wow. We’re not known for our caring side. Or being overly emotional.” I can see her mind working.

“I have to say, though, the cool exterior voice, and the things he did, didn’t really match. But what is it they say, the more educated the man, the more kink? It was not only his lip that was stiff, and upper.” I chuckle at my joke.

“Ewww, no. Stop. That is far enough.” She tries to laugh. She knows I’m deflecting. But she allows it. “I’m glad you told me even though it’s not a happy ending for you.” She half rolls her eyes. Her tears have stopped, but I can see she’s still a little upset.

God this is a mess. But I feel utterly at ease with her knowing.

I knew she’d be magnificent about it all.

She’s loving and kind, and accepting of every part of us all in all our glorious fucking mayhem.

She has loved us all through some very messy spots in life, and continues to do so.

I feel lighter having bared that part of my soul to her.

So when the calls start again from London, I’m content to go knowing that she knows everything, and loves me even more.