Catch Me Twice

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Catch Me Twice Page 28

by Charmaine Pauls


  His expression grows despondent. “If it’s a revenge fuck, so be it, but know it’s going to happen with me right there. I’ll be in the room, watching. I don’t want any more lies between us. If that’s what you need to get over this, I only ask that you tell me honestly and not do it behind my back.”

  What he’s offering is huge. He’s willing to put his possessiveness and jealousy aside to let me sleep with another man if it means he gets to keep me. Not that I’d ever consider anything so destructive. I only wanted him to imagine himself in my shoes, to understand what I’m going through.

  I can only stare at him as he walks to the door and pauses in the frame. Turning back to me, he says, “You’re enough.”

  I’m still standing in the same spot long after he’s gone, his words echoing in my mind. The revelation that comes to me is sudden and clear. Nothing he can do will make the wrong go away. There’s no action he can perform that will ease my pain or make me feel better. Only I can do it. It will take a leap of faith. If we’re going to get over this, I will have to open myself up to hurt and give him my trust. I will have to accept the past, however painful, and learn to live with it.

  Jake

  Leaning with my palms on the windowsill in the lounge, I stare at nothing outside. What if we’re beyond fixing? What if the damage I did is too vast, too absolute for us to glue the broken pieces of our lives together? I shake my head, willing the desolate thought away. I want Kristi too much, even more than when I married her. The problem is I didn’t realize it in my drug-infused, semi-permanent state of drunkenness. I only realized it when I saw her kneeling in front of a pot of flowers. The accumulated emotions of a lifetime assaulted me at that moment, and I knew with crystal clarity I couldn’t let her go. She’s the woman of my dreams. She’s the mother of my child. If I can’t make it with her, I don’t want to make it with anyone. It’s her or no one. If she rejects me after two weeks, I’d have lost the war for my love. Whatever happens, I won’t lose my soul again.

  “Jake.”

  I tense at the way she says my name, full of need. I can’t look at her for fear of breaking my own word. The dark part of my lust threatens to erupt, but I suppress it. I want to be gentle with her, not hurt her. My desire for her is driving me insane. It’s a constant battle, but I’m willing to fight harder. The prize, if I win, will be worth it.

  Her whisper is tremulous. “I need you.”

  “What do you need, ginger?”

  “Take me to bed. Please.”

  Her request is a powerful temptation. My body breaks out in a sweat. My hands tremble where I clutch the windowsill. I hold on to the ledge as if it’s an anchor that will prevent me from being flung into the storm of my waning willpower. It’s a battle between body and mind, one my mind barely wins.

  “Why?” I direct the question at her reflection in the glass.

  “Make me forget.”

  My shoulders sag. I hate denying her. I hate the disappointment of her answer. Wrong reason. “No.”

  “Why?” she cries. “Don’t you want me?”

  I turn to face her. I want to look her in the eyes when I reply to that question. “More than anything.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “Forgetting is like hiding.”

  Her pretty features contort with anger, but I know her well enough to know she only uses it to mask her pain. “You gave it easily enough to other women.”

  “They didn’t ask.”

  “No, they got paid. Is that what I have to do? Demand money?”

  The mere notion sends a bolt of rage through me. “You’re not a whore.”

  “Why can’t you give me what you gave them?”

  Walking to her, I cup her face. “I value you too much.”

  I know why she’s doing this, why she’s demanding sex. She’s hurting. She needs a distraction. I knocked her self-image down by making her feel she wasn’t enough. She needs an affirmation that she’s attractive and desirable, but sex will only be a quick fix for issues that go much deeper, and it will hurt us more than help us in the end.

  Pulling her close, I wrap my arms around her. She doesn’t resist. She accepts the hug I offer in substitution for sex. We’re both aching, our hearts flayed open and our feelings exposed. I knew this holiday was going to hurt, but there’s no alternative way of getting to the other side. We’re on the top of a steep mountain, and there’s no helicopter to offer a quick lift. If we want to get home, we don’t have a choice but to battle it down the cliffs.

  Rubbing her back, I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s start this day over.”

  “Okay,” she says meekly with her face pressed to my chest.

  That’s the beauty of life. Until it ends, we always get another day, a new start. “What would you like to do today?”

  A short silence follows before she replies. “Can we go back to the beach?”

  “It’s good weather for a picnic.”

  Pulling away, she wrinkles her nose. “Do you want breakfast, or have you lost your appetite?”

  “I can always eat.”

  She detangles herself from my embrace, suddenly flustered. When she turns for the door, I take her hand.

  “If you’re embarrassed about propositioning me, you needn’t be. I appreciate the offer.”

  Pulling her hand from mine, she escapes down the hallway. I give it a couple of minutes for her to get herself together before I follow her to the kitchen and take a seat at the table. She puts a plate stacked with pancakes and dripping with applesauce down in front of me. I wait until she’s served herself before I cut into the food and take a big bite.

  She watches me expectantly as I chew. “Do you like it?”

  I hum my appreciation. “Best pancakes I’ve had.”

  “Not just mine. I mean in general.”

  “Sure. I have a sweet tooth.”

  “Ah.” She nods as if she’s just solved a daunting puzzle.

  While I unpack the groceries, she puts the flowers in water and cleans the kitchen. In just over an hour, we’re ready to go. She’s quiet during the drive, but I respect the silence. She’s got lots to think about.

  At the beach, she announces she wants to go for a walk. Alone. I don’t like it, but I understand her need for space. To make sure she’s safe, I follow at a distance. We walk for almost an hour before she cuts away from the shore to the dunes and sits down on the sand. With her arms around her legs, she stares out at the sea, but she’s aware of my presence. She doesn’t bat as much as an eyelash when I lower myself next to her, so close our thighs touch.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she says.

  “What about?”

  “Us.”

  My heart starts pumping in my chest. The thud echoes in my ears, but my voice betrays nothing of my apprehension. “Yeah?”

  She shifts until she faces me squarely. “I made my decision.”

  Chapter 19

  Kristi

  Jake holds my eyes, uncertainty flickering in his. “You have?”

  He looks more vulnerable than ever, almost as much as I feel with what I’m about to say. I thought about my answer with all the truth I could muster, looking beyond the pain. The part of me that hurts wants to punish Jake and make him suffer as much as me. The part that looks at what lies beyond the hurt knows my feelings for him aren’t dead. When he wraps his arms around me, I ache with all my soul to embrace the comfort he offers. My heart begs me to fall into the gentleness of his love, to let him soothe and give me the happiness I crave. My mind begs me to not give up on what we can still have together, the family I so desperately want with him. To punish him by denying what my heart wants most would be repeating the mistake Jake made by staying away out of shame of his failure. I’d let my pride win over the possibilities of what we can be.

  He takes my hand, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. “Just say it. Whatever you decided, I’ll deal with it.”

  Taking a deep breath, I lay down my d
estructive pride and take the scariest step of my life, opening myself up to unthinkable hurt by taking the biggest emotional risk I’ll ever take. “I want to try again with you.”

  He searches my face. “You do?”

  “I’m not saying I forgive you. It will take time. I’m not even sure I’m capable of that kind of forgiveness.”

  He presses my fingers to his mouth. His hand shakes slightly. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll live with it.”

  “It won’t be easy.”

  He brushes his lips over the back of my hand. “I know.”

  The enormity of the consequences suddenly crashes down on me. “Where do we even begin?”

  “By moving into the house in Heidelberg,” he says with the certainty I need.

  “I’m unemployed.”

  “I’ve got a job. Let me take care of you.”

  “Maybe we should put the house off until I can bring money into the household again.”

  “I’m putting a roof over our heads. I want you and Noah out of that trailer. End of discussion.”

  “It’s not so bad.”

  “You deserve better.” Cupping my nape, he drags a thumb over my jaw. “If you like, Gina can move in too.”

  “She’s with Eddie now.”

  “The guy lives in a bachelor flat above the mechanic workshop. Hell, he can come too for all I care.”

  “Really?”

  “The house is big enough, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but what if we can no longer afford the rent?”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  “That’s not how a partnership works.”

  He gives me a gentle smile. “Fine. We’ll make the decisions together.” His gaze is imploring. “We have little over a week left just for ourselves. Let’s enjoy the time instead of wasting it with worry. I want to make the most of every minute I have you alone.”

  Biting my lip, I smile up at his hopeful face. “I suppose I could do that.”

  The ache still lies shallow under the weight of my feelings, but a little more of the hope I felt earlier pushes through the surface.

  Getting to his feet, he offers me his hand. “Shall we head back?”

  Clouds are rolling in. A breeze has picked up. Shivering a little, I let him pull me up. With his arm around me, we walk along the shore to our picnic spot at the edge of the water. Our lunch is a little uncomfortable with the tension hanging in the air. The build-up to this moment has been too momentous for us to be casual about it.

  There’s nothing any longer preventing Jake from touching me as I want, but he still abstains. He lets our fingers brush when he hands me a sandwich and a glass of wine, and he wipes crumbs from the corner of my mouth. He doesn’t take it further, which only makes me more nervous. By the time we pack up, every muscle in my body is tense. I wish he’d just kiss me or fuck me and get it over with so we can both relax.

  Once everything is loaded into the car and we’re about to head back, I can’t take it any longer. I go on tiptoes and fold my arms around his neck. The length of my body presses against his, and his hardness tells me the truth. He wants this as much as I do, but when my lips cover his, he doesn’t participate in the kiss. He doesn’t open for me. His hands wander to my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh, but that’s where it ends.

  Pulling back, I stare at him. “You’re not kissing me back.”

  “If I do, I’ll lose it right here, and I made you a promise.”

  The mention of a bed flitters into my memory. “The sand is soft.”

  “You’re a tease, know that?”

  “For wanting you?”

  “Damn.” He presses a finger against my lips. “And hard to resist.” Grabbing my hand, he leads me around the car and opens my door. “Get in.”

  My seductive powers must be out of practice more than I thought. Biting my lip, I get inside and try to not think about the only thing my one track-mind brain can seem to focus on.

  His banter is easy on the way back, for my benefit, I guess, but it doesn’t make me relax. My tension doesn’t ease at home when he offloads the car in the setting sun and offers to run me a bath. Trying to ignore my growing apprehension, I sink into the warm water and soak the sticky saltiness from our day at the seaside from my skin. When the water cools, I wrap a towel around my body, go to my room for a change of clothes, and stop dead in the door.

  Candlelight basks the room in a soft, golden glow. Some are on the nightstand and others on the windowsill. Pink rose petals are scattered over the bed and floor, making the scene look like a picture from a wedding night.

  “Like it?” Jake asks behind me.

  I give a little start and turn to stare up at his handsome face. I’ve had sex with him twice, but I feel like a novice as my body heats with nervous expectation. I fumble for words in my mind.

  He takes a step closer, putting our bodies flush together. “Say something.”

  “This is…”

  “Romantic?”

  “I was going to say unexpected.”

  He raises a brow and waits for me to continue.

  “You destroyed the roses.” Ugh. What a stupid thing to say.

  “I’ll get you another bouquet.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean it’s, um, sweet.”

  “Sweet?” His lips tilt in one corner. “Not the ambience I was aiming for. My information must’ve been poorly verified.”

  “What information?”

  “I had to read up about this stuff.”

  “About being romantic?”

  “The articles claim a guy can’t go wrong with flower petals and candles.”

  “No,” I whisper, “you can’t go wrong with that, but having you in the picture makes it a winner.”

  He watches me from hooded eyes. “Is that so?”

  “Maybe,” I look him up and down, “without the clothes will be even better.”

  Gripping the towel where I’m clutching it between my breasts, he gives a gentle pull. When I loosen my hold, it falls around my feet. His gaze travels down my body for a slow evaluation. “Definitely better.”

  Without him laying a finger on me, my breathing quickens, and my skin breaks out in goosebumps. We’re caught in the charged stare for another moment before he hooks his arms under my legs, lifts me to his chest, and carries me to the bed. The covers and petals are cool underneath me as he places me carefully in the middle.

  “I’ve been dreaming of this,” he says as he strips, first the T-shirt and then his shorts.

  Naked, he crawls over me, making every inch of my skin where our bodies touch come alive. He lowers his hips between my thighs and rests his weight on his elbows. “Sometimes, it feels I’ve been waiting a lifetime for this.”

  Being in love with Jake since I’ve been six years old is a lifetime. “I’ve loved you even before I could ride a bike or before I ate pizza for the first time.”

  A sensuous smile curves his lips. “You didn’t manage to stay on until grade four, so I’m not sure that’s a compliment.” He chuckles when I swat his arm. “However, Pinky’s Pizza opened just after I’d turned seven, so there’s that.”

  Threading my hands through his hair, I pull at the wet strands. “You washed up?”

  “While you were having your bath.”

  “There’s only one bathroom.”

  “I used the outside tap.”

  I shiver for his sake. “That must’ve been cold.”

  “Believe me, I needed it.”

  “Not any longer.”

  Framing my face between his palms, he brings his lips down to mine for a kiss that starts out like rose petals but soon deepens with a slow burn. He takes his time to explore the shape of my mouth and the depth of my desire, his hands tracing aching paths over my body as he follows it up with kisses that end between my thighs.

  When I come for the first time, it’s in his mouth. I’m wet from my arousal and still shivering with aftershocks of pleasure when he grips his cock and position
s it at my entrance. It’s a moment I embrace with my eyes wide open, watching the ecstasy etched on his face as he lodges the tip inside and waits. Our kiss is languid but our sounds urgent as he slowly sinks deeper. I revel in every step of his possession, in each inch he pulls back to slide two inches deeper. The buildup of my pleasure is unhurried. Rocking a slow rhythm into me, he brings me to another peak, and another, until I beg for no more. Only then does he pull out to fit a condom and allow himself release.

  Boneless, I snuggle closer as he turns us on our sides, keeping my back to his chest. He drags his fingers over my arm and brushes the hair from my face before pressing a tender kiss in my neck.

  “Love you, Pretorius.”

  “Love you right back.”

  I fall asleep in the sweetest bliss and wake up in an inferno of desire with Jake pressing into me from behind. We fuck wildly this time, with an animalistic savageness. Our frantic touching borders on the darkness we explored during our first two times, but Jake doesn’t cross that line. He remains careful and gentle. Afterward, he strokes my hair as I doze off with my head on his chest.

  Twice more during the night, he wakes me, taking me with opposing gentleness and urgency. By morning, I wake with an ache between my legs and every muscle in my body reminding me of the sexual marathon of the night, but a feeling of contentment leaves me peaceful for the first time in four years.

  “Good morning,” he whispers, kissing the shell of my ear.

  “Mm.”

  He rolls over, bringing me on top of him. “Ride me.”

  I bite my lip. I’m about to say I’m too sore, but when he looks at me with such desire, his voice hoarse when he admits, “I want to watch you,” I can’t deny him.

  I lift onto my knees and sink down on his hardness, loving the way in which he stretches me. His grip around my waist is firm, his eyes fixed on my face as he starts moving me to his rhythm. Despite the many orgasms from last night, my need builds again, a fire that’s meant only for him, a fire that will never go out.

  Abandoning my hips, he cups my breasts and squeezes gently. “Show me.”

 

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