The Devil's Kiss Series Boxed Set

by Gemma James

  “It’s true.”

  “That could never be true.”

  “I can’t give him my whole heart.”

  Ian closed his eyes. “If there’s anything I regret, it’s not being with you in Texas. Texas could have changed everything.” His chest shook with holding back what he didn’t want to express in words.

  I didn’t think, didn’t analyze the right or wrong in my actions. I only knew that he needed me. As I brought my mouth to his, I forced Gage from my mind. Shattered the images of him as I brought my fingers to the first button of my blouse.

  I’d hate myself later.

  Ian deserved this. I deserved this, because in spite of everything, Gage had taken this from us. And God, I loved that cruel and fragile man, no matter what he put me through. I forgave him for every lash, every bruise, every time he forced his will on me.

  I prayed he’d find the same capacity to forgive.

  “What are you doing?” Ian gazed at me with bewildered eyes.

  “Giving us Texas.” My fingers quaked as I unfastened a button, then another.

  “Don’t do this for me.” He moved to push me away, but his arm was weak, ineffective in fighting me off…in fighting off his own desires. He placed his right hand on my chest, and the instant his palm conformed to the softness of my breast, he lingered until the tips of his fingers brushed my aching nipple through the thin silk of my bra.

  Thrusting my breast more firmly into his hand, I let my shirt slide off my shoulders, and the garment fluttered to the floor. Desperation possessed me. Fear. The idea that the earth and everyone on it would lose him. That I would lose him. I pressed my mouth to his, lips parting. Tongue questing for acceptance.

  He opened to me, groaning deep in his throat, and sucked my tongue into his mouth. We kissed until neither of us could breathe. I reached between us and slid my hand down the elastic band of his sweatpants, and closed my fingers around his erection.

  “Jesus…” He jutted his hips, bringing him deeper into my hand. “Jesus…fuck, Kayla. Stop.”

  “Let me give you this.”

  He swallowed hard. “I want this. Jesus, I want this. But only if you’re doing it for you, because I know it’ll rip into your conscience.”

  “I don’t care.” I swirled my thumb through the moisture collecting at his tip. “You can’t give up yet.”

  A hoarse groan rumbled from his throat. “This isn’t going to change anything. I’m still going to have cancer—”

  “Shh. Come for me.” I wanted him to purge the sickness from his body, free his mind of death and doom. “Let it out.”

  Live for me.

  Sex was living. Loving was living. Giving in and letting go, embracing the free-fall…that was living.

  Ian needed to fucking live.

  I pushed to my knees, giving myself more room to work at coaxing him over the edge. As I pumped his cock with frantic strokes, illogical thoughts assaulted my sanity with trickery disguised as truth. As if I could keep him alive by making him fly.

  The way Gage had made my fly while in the depths of despair over Eve’s illness. My heart blanched, and another sob squeezed from my throat, except I didn’t know who I was crying for now—Ian or Gage.

  I was hurting both of them.

  Giving one a taste of ecstasy as a bon voyage, and breaking into shards the iced-over heart of the man I’d married. The man I loved with such intensity and possessiveness and all-consuming passion that I couldn’t wrap my head around what my hand was doing.

  It didn’t have permission, just as Ian didn’t have my fucking permission to die.

  Every breath he drew was a laborious, wordless plea. A plea for more. A plea for me to stop and let him go. But there was no stopping this. The orgasm came over him in a violent assault, seizing his muscles, cutting off his vocal cords. He came in a muted full-body spasm, his release spurting over my pumping fist in an unstoppable eruption. As soon as he caught his breath, my name fell from his twisted mouth, almost as if it killed him to say it.

  “Why did you do that?” His eyes shuttered as he rested his head against the back of the couch.

  “I…needed to.”

  His arms flopped like lifeless noodles at his sides. “I want to touch you. Taste you on my tongue.” A tear streaked down his cheek, and there was something especially heart-wrenching about a man crying. “I’m sorry, Kayla. I never wanted to hurt you like this.”

  The disease had weakened him, stealing his energy reserves, the ravages of cancerous cells holding a strong man prisoner.

  I folded my arms around him and sobbed, leaving tear stains on his T-shirt, and my guilt sucked the strength from me. I’d done the unforgivable. I’d betrayed Gage, and in doing so…it would change nothing. Ian would still have cancer when I walked out the door. Now that the frenzy had abated, and rational thought took hold again, I felt close to vomiting.

  “I can’t…” he began, his voice a mere whisper, “keep my eyes open.”

  “Shh, just let me hold you.”

  A sigh escaped him. “So tired.”

  “Sleep. I’m here.”

  “Don’t want you to see me this way.”

  As he let sleep take him, I held on to him so tightly I thought I might never let go.

  16. Goodbye

  Late afternoon shadowed Ian’s living room. He was warm and breathing steadily in my arms. The clock on his end table pushed time forward, minute by minute. I was frozen, wrapped around him, holding him with everything I had.

  He mumbled something in his sleep, but when I pushed back and studied him, he appeared peaceful in slumber. Healthy. Alive.

  Being careful not to wake him, I slid from his lap, pushed my arms into the sleeves of my blouse and buttoned it, then went in search of a towel. I found one tucked away in a cupboard in the hallway. As I headed to the door I assumed opened into the bathroom, I pulled my cell out and dialed Simone.

  She answered before the first ring completed. “Did you talk to him?”

  “Yeah.” Swallowing hard, I blinked back tears. “He’s made up his mind.”

  “You gotta keep trying.”

  “I will,” I said as I entered the bathroom. “But I need you to do something for me.” I held the phone between my shoulder and ear as I turned on the faucet in the bathroom and dampened a blue cotton towel.

  “What do you need?”

  “Can you pick up Eve from school and keep her for the night?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll get someone to cover the last couple hours of my shift.”

  “Thank you.” I squeezed the excess water from the towel before exiting the bathroom. “You’re already on the list for picking her up.” Pausing halfway to the living room, I lowered my voice. “If Gage calls you, tell him you haven’t heard from me.”

  “What’s going on?” The alarm in her tone unnerved me. She had reason to be concerned. I had reason to be terrified because there was no way of knowing how he’d react when I returned home.

  “Nothing to worry about,” I told her. What a blatant lie. “We’re going to need some time to talk, and it’s best if Eve isn’t around for that.”

  “Kayla,” she warned.

  “It’s okay. I can handle it.”

  “Call me immediately if you need me.”

  “I will.” I halted at the entrance to the living room, where Ian lay sprawled on the couch where I’d left him. His sweatpants were a mess from his cum, and I realized I probably had it on my skirt as well.

  I told Simone I’d talk to her later before hanging up and making my way into Ian’s bedroom to hunt for a clean pair of pants. When I returned to him, he was mumbling in his sleep again. I placed the clothing onto the cushion next to him and worked the soiled sweats down his thighs.

  His lashes fluttered open. “Hey, beautiful.”

  “Hey.” Bringing the towel to his lap, I cleaned him up as quickly as I could, trying to avoid embarrassing him.

  “You don’t have to do that. I’m not an invalid
.”

  I glanced into his stormy eyes. “I know you’re not. I just want to help. Let me help.” I had to do something, even if it was something as simple as cleaning up the mess we’d made and helping him into a fucking pair of clean pants.

  He let me do so grudgingly, and then he patted his lap.

  I wanted so badly to go to him, but if I put myself in that position again, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop at touching him.

  “It’s okay. I understand,” he said, reading the indecision spreading across my face. He leaned forward and rubbed his head.

  “Is it a headache?”

  “Yeah.” He rose to his feet, taking a few seconds to gain solid footing. As he moved toward the kitchen, his left arm hanging limply at his side, I realized he was having trouble using it.

  My lips trembled. Grief stung my eyes and nose. But I refused to give in to my weakness. He needed me to be strong right now, and I needed him to keep fighting.

  I followed him into the kitchen. “I need you to do something for me.”

  “Anything.”

  “Go back on the chemo.”

  He frowned. “Anything but that.”

  “Please, Ian. Don’t give up.”

  “I fought for six months.” He grabbed a pill box and single-handedly flipped the lid on one of the sections. “I don’t have anything left.”

  “You have me,” I said, my voice and soul splintering in two.

  He dropped the pills into his mouth and washed them down with a swig of water. “We both know that’s not true.”

  Unable to argue with him, I found myself speechless.

  He set the glass of water on the counter with a loud thud before spanning the few feet between us.

  “Ian,” I said, my heart pounding something fierce as he backed me against the refrigerator. The stainless steel chilled me to my bones.

  He fingered a strand of my hair before lowering his right hand to my collared neck. “Does he make you happy?”

  “Most of the time.” My guilt leaked through the fissure in my soul. I tried ignoring the lingering scent of Ian’s cum on my body, but I couldn’t, just as I couldn’t ignore what I’d done.

  “Don’t tell him about this, Kayla. He doesn’t need to know.”

  I nodded, even though I knew I would tell Gage. Not only tell him, but beg for forgiveness. Keeping this bottled inside would end me. And Gage would know anyway. He’d spot the treachery in my eyes as soon as he walked into the house.

  “Thank you for loving me too,” he said.

  I clung to his T-shirt, burying my face in the soft fabric, and cried. “You’re saying goodbye.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why are you giving up?”

  “I refuse to spend the last few weeks I have left on chemo.”

  “But it could save your life!” I fisted my hands and pounded against his chest, hoping to beat some sense into him. “Please, Ian. Please. It could work. Look at Eve! She—”

  “It’s different!” He halted my furious fists with his working arm. “My fucking brain is quitting on me. I can’t do this anymore. The chemo wasn’t working. The tumor isn’t going away. It’s only getting worse.” His chest stilled as if he were holding his breath. “I’d rather go with dignity. On my terms. You need to accept that.”

  “Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?”

  “It’s in my blood.”

  That was true. Gage shared that same blood. But could he find it in his heart to forgive Ian before it was too late? I honestly didn’t know, especially after what we’d done on the couch less than two hours ago. I never believed myself capable of betraying Gage, but I had. I’d done the unthinkable. The unforgivable.

  And I couldn’t find the strength to regret it, other than for the pain it would cause him. I gulped just thinking of how he’d react—how I was about to tear his heart out.

  “You should go home.”

  “Who’s going to take care of you?”

  “I’ll be okay. Stop worrying about me.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “This is why I didn’t want you to know.”

  “Then why did you meet me in that coffee shop?”

  “Not seeing you was impossible. I’ve thought of nothing else since I walked out of your hospital room a year ago.”

  “But why now?” I already knew, heard the words before he spoke them.

  “In some irrational part of my brain, I thought if I could win you back, maybe I’d have more reason to fight.” He frowned. “But I realized it wasn’t fair to you. It’s not your job to give me a fucking reason to live.”

  “If you need a reason, I’ll give you one.”

  He lifted a brow. “Are you willing to divorce him?”

  I gaped at him, unable to find words because I didn’t like the answer. Even now, faced with his illness, I’d still choose Gage.

  “I knew the answer before I asked, Kayla. And I’d never ask that of you anyway. I’m just making a point. You can’t give me a reason. I have to want to fight, and I did fight. I tried all kinds of treatments. But some things can’t be fixed.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It is what it is!” He stepped back, no longer touching me. “You need to accept it.”

  “Please. I’m begging you.”

  “And I’m begging you to go home. I can’t argue with you about this anymore.”

  I leaned against the refrigerator, frozen in that position for what seemed like forever with my hands balled at my sides.

  “Jesus, Kayla. You told me in my office that being near me was torture. Well this is worse. I need you to go. Please, just go.”

  “Okay,” I choked out. As I left his house with tears dripping down my cheeks, splattering the ground with despair, the ache in my gut shoved the truth into my head. Into my heart.

  This was goodbye.

  17. Mistake

  Gage found me naked and kneeling in the basement, the bullwhip coiled in front of me, waiting to strike me like a snake. The thing ticked, ticked, ticked like a rattler in my mind. Or maybe that was time ticking by, bringing me a second closer to the annihilation of my marriage.

  To the sharp sting of leather that, for the first time, I’d gladly welcome. I wanted the strikes to take away my pain—pound to dust Ian’s illness and my shame over what I’d done.

  He halted in front of me, his shiny black shoes coming into view. I tilted my head and wanted to sink through the floor as his suspicious gaze flickered between the bullwhip and my face.

  “Where’s Eve?” he asked.

  “Gone for the night.”

  He knelt before me and held my chin between two harsh fingers. “I called you hours ago. Where were you?”

  No words or explanation could express the chaos inside me. I thought I was void of tears, but I was wrong. I’d been so, so wrong for betraying him like this.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, a sob squeezing from my throat. This was going to hurt him so much, and the knowledge rose like acid.

  “Baby…” He broke me to pieces by brushing the tears from my cheeks. Doubt colored his features, and in that moment, I read him so easily, had an idea of what he was thinking.

  Maybe he was wrong. Maybe the dread in his gut was lying to him.

  “What’s wrong? Is Eve okay?”

  “S-she’s fine.” I swallowed hard. “I did something you’re going to hate me for.” I lifted the whip and pressed it against his thighs. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I…God…” Shaking my head, I let the tears drop.

  “Just tell me.” A familiar tick went off in his jaw.

  “I saw Ian.”

  “What do you mean you saw him?” He furrowed his brows. “Because I know my wife, the woman I love more than anything in this world, would never see my brother.”

  “More than saw him,” I said, my voice a croak that echoed my shame. He pushed away, and the whip crashed to the floor.

  I grasped it by the handle, scrambled to my feet, and offer
ed him the implement I feared the most. The one I deserved the most.

  “Please, Gage—” Everything inside me fractured. “Strike me with it. I deserve nothing less.” I couldn’t bear the devastation my words drilled into his eyes. Every emotion he rotated through came off him in a tangible blast.

  I hadn’t voiced my sin, but he heard it anyway. He stumbled back, hands clenched at his sides, shaking with the need to punish. To maim the way I’d maimed him.

  “Gage, please.”

  “What did you do?” he asked between tight lips.

  “I…” I’d never felt so broken, so helpless. He’d taken me to hell and back, but it turned out my actions were the final accomplice in my destruction. “It just…happened.”

  “You fucked him.” No question, only harsh certainty.

  “No.” The denial felt like a lie. “Let me explain.”

  “God, Kayla—” His voice broke, and that anguished sound alone brought tears to my eyes. He buried both hands in his hair and paced the room like a lost man. “I don’t want to hear it. The reasons don’t fucking matter.”

  “Please—”

  “Nothing you say will justify you cheating on me with him!” He propped his back against the wall and slid to his haunches.

  I couldn’t fix this. I’d done the unforgivable, and I absolutely could not fix this. After everything we’d been through, I’d hit him in the one place capable of destroying him.

  “I’ll do anything,” I said, forcing the words out beyond my constricted throat. “It was a mistake.”

  “A mistake? We’re fucking married. This isn’t like Texas when you had a choice to make.”

  “You didn’t give me a choice!” Probably the wrong time to point that out, but I couldn’t help it.

  “I gave you a choice!” his voice bellowed through the basement, making my muscles lock and tense. My legs threatened to go out on me. He jumped to his feet and stormed to where I stood with the bullwhip gripped in my nervous hands.

  “On your fucking knees. Now.”

  And just like that, I dropped. Groveled at his feet. Let my tears bathe the floor.

  “I gave you a choice,” he repeated, calmer this time. “I dragged your stubborn ass back home, but right here in this spot, I gave you the option to walk.”