by Kayla, Mia
It took all my energy to stand upright, to not flinch and not cower into myself. Because it was the truth. I had nothing to say other than I was sorry, but there would be no forgiveness here, not on her part and not on my part because never in a million years would I be able to forgive myself.
“No. You’re wrong. This is Gabby. Gabby Cruz. Maybe you’ve mistaken her for someone else.” Mason’s eyes teetered between us, his words steady and sure like he knew me, like he knew I could never have done what she was accusing me of, but I had.
“No. I see her as clearly as I did when I caught my husband kissing her.” She seethed.
I wanted to run away, so I no longer had to hide from the hurt on her face, hear the anger in her tone, have to listen to her truth, my truth.
I thought back to how it’d all come out in the open. Mike and I had been at the grocery store. We’d just had the most amazing movie date night, and I wanted to keep it going with Netflix and brownies at my place. That was where she’d seen me. Us. And she’d followed me around after that, and I’d had no idea until pictures had shown up on my door. Not only pictures of me. But pictures of them. Of their happy times. Of their kids.
My hands trembled at my sides. “Mason, she’s telling the truth. All of it.”
His gaze wavered to me, and he blinked as though he couldn’t believe it, what she was saying, what I’d done.
And I couldn’t take it any longer. I scurried past all the people on the dance floor, past the people having dinner, past the people trying to get inside. I heard Mason call my name, but I kept on running until the wind was at my back, until my lungs hurt from the air that I was trying to get in, and until all the memories bombarded me, causing tears to well up in my eyes and fall down my cheeks. I couldn’t look at Mason’s face and see pity. Even more than pity, I was terrified I’d see disgust, disgust for a woman who’d broken up a family.
“Gabby!” he yelled, trying to catch up.
He’d driven me here, but that didn’t mean that I had to leave with him. I was sure he didn’t want anything to do with me.
My lungs filled with the cool night air as I took breaths in big, overwhelming gulps. The fall air chilled me to the bone, but that wasn’t the only reason I was cold. Seeing Carla’s face, the hurt written all over it, had an ache tightening in the middle of my chest.
“Gabby! Hold on! Wait up.”
I could hear Mason’s heavy footsteps behind me, and I walked faster, as fast as I could in heels. Still, I was no match for his long legs. He reached for my arm and steadied me, flipping me to face him. Before I knew it, one hand cupped my cheek, brushing the tears away.
“Gabby …” His voice was soft, consoling.
I didn’t deserve the way he’d said my name so reverently.
I pulled his hand down and stepped away, swiping at my cheeks. “You know what, Mason. We don’t have to do this. I’ll catch an Uber home.” Tears fell heavy down my face. From embarrassment. From guilt. And whatever else my tears were from.
“That’s ridiculous. I’m driving you home.” His tone was sweet and gentle and everything I was unworthy of. “Whatever happened—”
I cut him off, “It’s all true. That woman in there”—I pointed back to the club—“she’s someone’s wife. My ex-boyfriend’s wife.” The tears fell faster and harder down my face until he was a blur in front of me. “I slept with a married man. A married man with kids.” I was yelling now, so much anger boiling underneath the surface. Anger with myself and anger with Mike and anger with the world.
He shook his head, his face disbelieving. “That can’t be the whole story.” He stepped into me, not giving me a second to deny him as he pulled me into him.
The contact surprised and shocked me at the same time. I was sobbing, full-body shakes, and though I shouldn’t have, though I didn’t deserve any comfort, I fell into him, needing his warmth to dull the coldness I felt everywhere. He held me against his chest until I soaked his shirt with tears and until my body stopped shaking.
“It’s going to be okay.” His fingers massaged the back of my neck, his other hand holding me close. “Everything’s gonna be fine, Gabby. Let it out. I’m here. Everything is going to be okay.”
His arms squeezed around me, and I cowered into him, using him for balance. My knees felt weak, my stomach rolled with nausea, and it was as though I’d fall if he let me go.
I didn’t know how much time had passed, how long he had held me in his arms, but before I knew it, we were in his parked car, me staring blankly at the glove compartment, him holding and caressing my hand.
I reveled in the silence, though my mind was pounding loudly with Carla’s words, and the pictures of their family kept flashing through my thoughts.
Mason’s eyes burned through the side of my face, piercing me with questions I didn’t want to answer. But I liked him. And because I liked him, I wanted him to know the truth.
I took a deep breath and began my story—my true story. “I didn’t know he was married. I’d met him at a salsa club. He didn’t have a ring on, and I had no idea. He didn’t give an inkling, not one, that he had a wife. A family. I never suspected anything. He said he just moved here, that he wasn’t originally born in this area.” I released a shaky sigh, wringing my fingers together. “I even met some of his friends.” Maybe they weren’t good friends. Maybe they knew, but men always stuck together. The thought made my stomach turn even more.
“How did you find out?” Mason’s voice was quiet, careful. He was most likely afraid the waterfall would come raining down again.
“Carla sent me pictures and a long note, telling me he was married.” My voice was hoarse from crying, scratchy, as though I’d been screaming for days. “She sent me pictures of their wedding day, of their kids, of their happy times. She blamed me.” My chest constricted, making it difficult for me to breathe.
“Then, it’s not your fault. How could it be when you didn’t know he was married? This is just her blaming someone other than her husband,” Mason said, his tone confident. He reached over and gripped my hand, his eyes fierce with determination to make me see his point.
And I got that. I got that Carla loved Mike, just as my mother had loved my father and blamed herself for not being good enough and blamed his new wife for taking him away from us. I got that. But I also wasn’t innocent in this situation.
I retracted my hand from his and squeezed my fingers together. “He told me he would leave Carla for me. Leave the children for me. But I couldn’t …” I swallowed back the bile that rose in my throat.
Mike had told me their marriage had been over for a long time, and because I loved him, because I wanted a life with him, I wanted to believe him. But with every passing day, I hated him more and more for lying to me, for putting me in that situation. For making me the other woman. Only then had I realized that it wouldn’t work.
I slammed my fist against the dashboard, pain trailing up my arm, but that agonizing pain was nothing compared to the heart-wrenching, unbearable ache I felt in the center of my chest. I hated him for what he’d turned me into—a homewrecker. Just like Carla had said.
I was so ashamed of myself, but I held nothing back. “I thought of the kids, of those children without a father … and I knew it wouldn’t work.” I took a deep breath. “We began our relationship in a lie, and I would forever doubt every word that left his mouth.”
“Gabby, it wasn’t your fault.” He tried again to convince me, but Mason’s consoling words were drowned out by the voices in my head, the memories, the heartbreak I’d caused.
I rubbed at the center of my chest, feeling the unbearable pain of betrayal. “Did you know that I grew up without a father?” I stared at my hands, my newly manicured nails, ones I’d gotten done for today’s date. “Of course you wouldn’t know that …” We barely know each other. My voice trailed off, distant, almost not sounding like myself.
My hands trembled on my lap. “He left us when I was ten and I remember that d
ay so vividly because my mother could not stop crying.”
My sisters couldn’t remember him as well. Maybe that was better, as the ache would be less. They wouldn’t remember how he’d made us laugh, how he would bring us ice cream after work. How he’d cooked the best tamales. It was better that they didn’t remember him because they had nothing to miss.
I lifted my eyes to Mason’s. “He left us …” I swallowed down all my choked-up emotion. “And … and I didn’t want to be that, like my father’s new wife had … I couldn’t do that to his kids.”
His eyes showed such conviction, and his words were strong and intense as he pulled both of my hands into his. “And you’re not, Gabby. You didn’t. Maybe you had a moment of weakness, but don’t live your life in guilt for something that scumbag did to you,” he said more firmly. “What I see in front of me is a strong, gorgeous woman who cares deeply about her family and has a strong desire to help, teach, and shape the future of young kids.”
When my gaze dropped to the ground, he lifted my chin to meet his eyes.
“I wish you’d see what I saw because what I see in front of me is beautiful. You have the moral compass of a saint. I mean, you called the cops on me because you thought I was a predator.” He laughed. “Can’t you see that? All of that back there, not your fault.”
Peering up at his dark brown eyes, I let his words wash over me. He was goodness and light and everything I didn’t deserve, but I wanted to drown in him, believe his words so badly that it physically hurt not to be near him, so I closed the gap between us and kissed him.
Chapter 16
Mason
Her kiss shocked me. It was unexpected, and it shot straight to my dick.
She was hurting, and I really should step on the brakes, but I couldn’t.
Not when she was kissing me and especially not when she jumped over the console and was now straddling me, her skirt rising to her thighs.
Her body pushing up and wriggling against mine felt like heaven. I was drawn to this woman in a way I’d never been drawn to another. Almost as though she had bewitched me.
I kissed her with relentless passion, tasting and feasting on her lips. Gripping her waist and angling her toward me. She tasted of the sweetest mint, refreshing, and smelled like a damn field of roses, and I didn’t ever want it to stop.
We were all hands and lips and tongues. I threaded my fingers through her hair and licked a path down her neck and back up again. She was a banquet that I wanted to feast on, devour, and enjoy. And as her hands crept up my shirt, anxiety crept up my throat.
If I didn’t stop this now, I’d have her in my car, and I didn’t want our first time to be in the car. What if someone caught us, and we’d get charged with indecent exposure? I’d never even gotten a ticket. My slate was as clean as my grades in college.
I breathed her in one last time and slowed our kisses to little pecks on her lips. I rested my forehead against hers, eyes closed, breathing hard.
“I don’t want this to end.” I didn’t mean just this night either. I wanted more with her.
With Gabby, it’d been instant. Maybe not love at first sight, but shit, she’d turned my life upside down, and I couldn’t deny it.
Her lips found mine again, and her hands slipped to the buckle of my belt. “Who says this has to end?” Her voice was hot and horny against my lips, and my cock strained to be free.
Shit. This wasn’t how our first date was supposed to go, me taking her in this car. Not for our first time, not on this night, not when the date had gone horribly wrong earlier.
My tongue intertwined with hers, my hands digging into her waist. If she kept riding me like that, I’d blow like a teenage boy. Now, that would make this a night to remember, but for all the wrong reasons.
“Tomorrow?” I asked, forcing myself to slow our tempo. “Go out with me tomorrow.”
She bit my bottom lip and ground against me. “Why don’t I just come over tonight?”
I stilled and double-blinked, meeting her eyes. Her statement was like a cold bucket of water to my face. Only my face because my dick hadn’t gotten the cold-water memo as it pushed against my pants, hard as a rock.
My abrupt movement had her pulling back.
“Yeah … omigod.” Her voice was soft, shaky. Her cheeks flushed all shades of pink, and she slowly shook her head, her gaze meeting something over my shoulder. “I’m not usually this aggressive. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I don’t have sex on the first date.” She ruffled her hair, averting her eyes, embarrassment clouding her features. “I’ve never had a one-night stand.”
She pushed herself off of me, but I kept my hands firmly on her waist to still her. I could feel the distance expanding between us even though we were merely a breath apart.
The issue was, I wasn’t prepared to take her home tonight. I’d pictured driving her home, walking her to her door and giving her a sweet kiss on the lips before she stepped inside. I was a wait till five dates before we slept together kind of guy. I wasn’t a kiss on the first date kind of guy, more like second date. I also hadn’t been on a ton of dates before.
But I had rules. Rules I adhered to, and with Gabby, all rules flew out the door.
I kissed her before I had a chance to overthink this, before the space between us was too wide that I’d lose this opportunity. She stiffened at first until I coaxed her with my lips to loosen. And when she did, she melted into me. We made out in the car, like teenagers in high school. The heat jumped to inferno hot until I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted her too badly to just stop here.
“I’m taking you back to my place,” I said with a finality in my tone, breathing labored, lips swollen.
The hardest part—well, second hardest part, no pun intended—was stopping our make-out session to make it back to my condo.
I could barely drive home. She kissed my neck while giving me a hand job over my pants. I duly noted that this was a hazard, a car accident waiting to happen, but any sense of logical thinking had flown out the door the moment I set eyes on her.
When we parked in the garage, the heat only heightened. She hopped up on me, and I carried her from the car, through the building, and up the elevators, waving to a couple as I passed them by.
I’d never felt a fire in me, a need so strong to be with someone else, the sensation so intense that it overwhelmed me.
I had to set her on her feet to get my keys out. Once I unlocked the door and kicked it open, we were back at it, lips and mouths and tongues and hands everywhere.
She reached for my shirt, untucking it and I assisted by unbuckling my pants.
If she didn’t slow down, I knew I wouldn’t last long. And I wanted to make it so good for her.
“Wait,” I said, cradling her face within my hands.
This was me taking it slow.
I had a method to seduction. I’d like to think I knew how to seduce women as I had been in long-term relationships in the past.
So, this had to go by my pace.
Tonight, she would follow my lead.
She let me carry her down the hall, to my bedroom, where I laid her on my bed.
She was exquisite. Beautiful. No words could do her justice. Her hair was splayed in little ringlets across my mattress, and her dress rode up her thighs. And if I inched it up higher, I could see if her underwear matched her dress or if she was wearing any at all. The thought had me about to fucking explode.
But then I remembered the worst possible scenario, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.
“Uh … I have to brush my teeth.” I jumped to a standing position and retreated to my bathroom, walking backward.
“Really?” She laughed, resting on her elbows. “Right now?”
“Yeah.” I was weird with hygiene. But shit, that wasn’t the reason I was rushing to my bathroom.
“Okay.” She laid her head back on the bed, running one hand over her body and squeezing her breast.
I groaned. “It’l
l only be one second.”
I rushed to the bathroom, slammed the door shut, and moved to the counter, opening cabinets, checking for the number one thing I needed right now—condoms.
“Fuck.” No condoms.
I went on my knees, pulling open the drawers, searching, and came up with nothing. I’d been in a serious relationship for years, and Janice had been on the pill. I didn’t even remember the last time I’d bought a box of condoms.
I lightly tapped my head against the sink. Why couldn’t life just be easy, just this one time? And if I wasn’t so determined and hell-bent on being with Gabby, I’d think the universe was trying to tell me something.
I walked out of the room, frustrated and cock throbbing against my slacks.
She went up on her elbows again, and when I locked eyes with her, I sighed. “No condoms.”
But she grinned. I narrowed my eyes. She couldn’t be that reckless. Shit, I wasn’t that reckless to think we could do it without protection. Is she even on the pill? How did she know I was even clean?
“In my purse.” She tipped her chin to the corner of the room where she’d discarded her purse and heels.
I paused and blinked at her, the corners of my mouth pulling downward.
“I’m not sleeping with anyone, Mason. I’m just all about safety, and I like to be prepared.”
Now, it was my turn to smirk.
Well, then … game on.
* * *
There was a method to seduction. At least in my head, there was. It was nice and slow, and a woman was to be savored and cherished.
But with Gabby, I was having a hard time savoring anything. I was at the mercy of this woman on top of me.
We’d made it to the bedroom, and just when I had control, she coerced me onto my back. We were all heat and passion and her hands were everywhere—in my hair, on my chest, on my cock. Clothes flew all over the place, shirts torn off, zippers undone, buttons popping off, and it was the hottest thing I’d ever experienced.