Betrayal

by Ember Dante

  “Excuse me?”

  She crawled over and knelt before me. “You can use your father as an excuse all you want, but I know the truth. I know you care about me. It’s obvious when we make love.”

  I couldn’t hold back—I laughed. Loudly. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

  “Don’t deny it. I can feel it every time we’re together.”

  “Sweetheart, one thing’s got nothing to do with the other. You’re hot, and you make my dick hard.” I smirked. “I can fuck anyone if my dick is hard enough.”

  “You’re an asshole,” she exclaimed.

  “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

  “We’re supposed to be together. We’re the perfect couple.”

  I laughed. “You can’t possibly believe that shit.”

  “Our fathers have plans for us.”

  There it was.

  “Exactly.” I pointed at her. “And therein lies the problem.”

  I finished dressing and left her there, naked and kneeling on the bed, calling after me, telling me what an inconsiderate asshole I was.

  Tell me something I don’t know, honey.

  Caitlin never stayed mad for long.

  It was actually funny how that worked. It didn’t matter what we fought about, or how bad the fight was. She always came back.

  Unfortunately, she was more demanding each time. It was getting difficult to control the situation as she was putting more pressure on her father, who, in turn, was putting more pressure on mine. I knew what she wanted, I just couldn’t do it.

  No, scratch that. I wouldn’t do it.

  About a week after I walked out of her bedroom, I was in the studio, finalizing some image edits for Architectural Digest, when the concierge buzzed my office.

  “Hey, Derek, what’s up?”

  “Mr. Walsh, there’s a young lady here to see you.” He paused, and I heard chatter in the background. My stomach twisted when I recognized the voice. “A Miss Lancaster. Should I send her up?”

  I debated going down, but her visit would most likely lead to a very public argument. “Yes, that’s fine,” I sighed. “And Derek? Make sure she stays on the ‘must call’ list.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  I saved my work and left the studio to wait for Caitlin. I had just locked the door when the elevator dinged, signaling her arrival.

  The doors slid open, and she stepped out, looking as pissed off as I’d ever seen her. I wasn’t surprised—she’d had ten floors to stew over the fact she wasn’t on the approved list.

  Her brown eyes were narrowed to slits, her lips pressed into a thin slash. A muscle ticked in her jaw, and when she spoke, it was through clenched teeth.

  Honestly, it was kinda hot.

  “This is unacceptable,” she growled.

  I laughed and scratched across the stubble covering my jaw. “Which part? Not having free run of the place, or having to take the elevator? I’m sorry that teleportation isn’t available.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious, Ian. Why am I not on the list?”

  “For occasions such as this, when you decide to pop in unannounced while I’m working.”

  “Working?” she scoffed. “It’s nine o’clock at night.”

  “Your point? The workday doesn’t always end at five when you own a business, sweetheart.”

  “God, you can be such an ass.”

  “I’m not sure God would appreciate you saying that about him,” I quipped.

  Her hands balled into fists and rested on her hips. “I meant you.”

  “Yet here you are.” My lips twisted into a smirk. “If I’m such a bad guy, why do you keep subjecting yourself to being around me?” I paused, closing the distance between us. “Oh, wait. I know. Because you think you can just have anything you want—whatever, right? Little Caitlin sees something she wants, and Daddy buys it for her.”

  I felt the slap before I even realized her hand moved. It was a good effort, I’d give her that. My cheek stung, and I rubbed a hand over the point of contact. “Wow. Not bad. Did I strike a nerve?” She lifted her hand again, and I was ready, catching it with one of mine. “I guess the truth hurts.”

  “Let go of me,” she demanded, yanking her wrist from my grasp.

  I released her and took a step back. “Go home, Cait.”

  “Why are you being deliberately mean?”

  “Why did you think you could just show up without calling first?”

  She took a step forward. “You are my boyfriend. I should be able to see you whenever I want. That’s how it’s supposed to work.”

  “No, that’s how you think it’s supposed to work. You don’t own me. I have a life and a job. I have shit I need to do, most of which doesn’t involve you.”

  “Then why are you even with me?” she pouted.

  “Are you being serious right now?” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “We’ve been over this a million times in the past six months. I’ve repeatedly told you how things are, but you refuse to listen. I feel like a broken record. Tonight is yet one more example of how fucking spoiled you are. Whenever things don’t go your way, you think you can just stomp your feet and I’ll give in.”

  “You just wait until my father hears about this,” she warned, nostrils flaring.

  “Oooh,” I muttered, shaking my hands in mock fright. “Tell him. I don’t give a fuck. You can’t threaten me with him.” I flicked a hand toward the elevator. “Now go throw your tantrum for him. I’m sure he’ll buy you a few more pairs of Louboutins to make you feel better.”

  “I hate you,” she screamed.

  “Good,” I countered, matching her volume. “Now get the fuck out before I call security and have them escort you out.”

  She glared at me and stalked to the elevator. She was wearing the same expression after she stepped inside and turned to face me. “This conversation is not finished.”

  I smiled and gave her a little wave as the doors closed. “Bye, Cait.”

  She was right. It wasn’t over. But I was one step closer to ending things, whether my father liked it or not.

  Chapter Twelve

  The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result. That was the theme of my life, and the thought that kept echoing in my head as I sat in my father’s study two days after Caitlin’s surprise visit.

  “Ian,” he sighed, dropping into his chair. There was a sad droop to his shoulders and dark shadows under his eyes—the first evidence of strain since the bullshit with Caitlin began.

  “Look,” I began. “I know what you’re gonna say, so just save your breath. This shit isn’t working out.”

  “What’s the problem, son?”

  “You mean aside from the fact she’s spoiled? She will never be content with things as they are. I’m sick and tired of her pushing me for more.”

  “George threatened to pull his funding—and political support—from Hudson Petroleum’s natural gas project. That will have a huge impact on the future of our family if that happens.”

  “So now you’re dragging Bailey’s father into this mess?”

  “Ian, this is a good match with Caitlin. In time—”

  “No.” I held a palm facing him. “I will not learn to love her in time. I don’t want to be with someone I have to learn to love. Don’t you get that?” My hand scrubbed over my face. “Even if I give her everything she wants, it’ll never be enough. Ever. She’s always going to want more. I can’t live that way.” I blew out a ragged breath. “I won’t.”

  “Okay.”

  I shook my head. “Did I hear you correctly? Did you just say okay?”

  “Break it off if you must, but I only ask that you wait until after Hudson gets the drilling permits in place for the natural gas wells. We really need George’s support to make that happen. There have been multiple delays, and his connections can move things along.”

  It was always about money.

  “And do we know w
hen that will happen?”

  “As long as Caitlin’s complaints cease, it could be late August or early September. I’m only asking for another three months.”

  “And what if it takes longer than that? What then? Will you keep tacking on more time, hoping I’ll change my mind about Caitlin? Because I won’t.”

  “Even if we need more time, it won’t add more than a month or two.”

  “So now we’re up to five months. Un-fucking-believable,” I snorted. “You’re never happy, are you? Nothing I do is ever enough. You always want more.”

  He leaned forward, eyes wide, his forearms on the desk, hands clasped together. “Please, Ian. I’m begging you. Make it work a while longer—five months, at the most. After that, break it off—whatever you want to do.”

  I reclined in my chair and regarded him. It was, hands-down, the most emotion I’d ever seen him display. It made him seem almost human. “Fine. Five months.” I stood, and he stood with me. “But I want to be clear about something.”

  “Anything.” He nodded, his loosening jowls jiggled with the movement.

  “After this is finished, you will never—and I do mean never—ask me to do anything like this again. Period. The end. I don’t even want to suspect that you’re trying to set me up with the daughter of any of your friends. Ever.”

  He extended his hand. “I promise. You have my word.”

  We shook on it, sealing our newest bargain. I left without another word, debating how to get back into Cait’s good graces without losing my self-respect in the process.

  Caitlin had a fondness for yellow roses. After I left my father, I stopped and bought a dozen as a peace offering. I didn’t call first—partly in rebellion for her not extending me the same courtesy. But, as it was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, I had a pretty good idea she’d be at home, lounging on her balcony.

  I rang the doorbell and stood, patiently waiting for her to answer. Several minutes passed, and I began to wonder if she had broken her weekend pattern. About the time I had decided to give up and try again later, the door swung open.

  “Ian,” Caitlin murmured, her expression wary, and her voice decidedly cool. “This is a surprise.”

  She wore a short, tissue-thin purple robe and held a towel to her head. The fabric clung to her still-damp body, highlighting every curve and hollow. My dick began to stir at the sight of her erect nipples protruding through the slinky material.

  “I wanted to stop by and apologize for my behavior the other day.” I held out the cellophane wrapped bouquet. “These are for you.”

  She accepted them, holding them close and breathing in the soft fragrance before stepping out of the way. A bashful smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “Would you like to come in?”

  “Are you sure this is a good time?” I asked, indicating her state of undress.

  “Oh, yeah. I just got back from my yoga class a little while ago and needed a shower.” She waved me in with her free hand. “Come in. I’ll go put these in some water.”

  I followed her to the kitchen and watched her reach for a vase above the refrigerator. The stretch shortened the already abbreviated robe, revealing the gentle curve where her thighs met her ass. A sudden visual of bending her over the kitchen table flashed in my mind.

  “You know, I wanted to apologize to you, too.” She placed the vase in the sink, filling it halfway with water as she carefully prepped the roses. “I was out of line. I barged in on you, late at night, and then got mad when you didn’t respond the way I wanted.” She flipped off the water and turned toward me. “I overreacted, and I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry for being a dick about it. I’ve been a little stressed lately.”

  “Thank you for the roses.” Her resulting smile lit up her face. “They’re beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome.” I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms. “I think we need to iron out a few things.”

  She moved the vase to the counter. “Oh?”

  “I think we both have a very different idea about the way things are between us, and what we want out of it.” She opened her mouth to speak, but I waved her off. “I said from the start, I’m not thinking about anything long-term. I don’t see this ending in marriage, so if that’s what you truly want, then we probably need to end it now. But if you think you can just relax and enjoy the way things are, then fine.”

  “I’m okay with that.”

  “Are you sure?” I arched a brow. “Because you kinda flipped out on me the other night for not being on the approved list.” My hands dropped to my hips. “If you want anything to work between us—even just a simple friendship—you cannot threaten me with your father every time things don’t go your way.”

  “I know. That was extremely childish.”

  “You think?” I laughed.

  She giggled and covered her face with her hands.

  I moved in front of her and forced her to meet my gaze. “Can you handle knowing I don’t want anything serious? I don’t want you to get your hopes up, and I don’t want you to think I’m leading you on.”

  “I understand.” Her hands rose to my biceps. “Yes, I can do that.”

  “Good.”

  I cradled her jaw with both hands and pressed my lips to the corner of her mouth, a whisper-light touch that had her tightening her fingers as her lips parted on a sigh. Taking that as an invitation, I deepened the kiss, fucking her mouth with my tongue.

  We broke apart, breathless. I dropped my gaze and watched the purple silk flutter over her skin, gaping wide, held together only by the delicate tie at her waist. My hands glided down her throat, past her shoulders, and settled on her breasts. They filled my hands perfectly. I plumped and massaged the soft flesh, my fingers plucking her taut nipples through the fabric. She groaned and relaxed against the counter, her knees buckling.

  I slipped my fingers inside the robe and slid them down her body, separating the fabric and loosening the tie so it hung open, exposing her trim, tight figure. Desire surged through me, a singular need that had to be sated. I carried her the short distance to the table and laid her there, her ass near the edge, and dropped to my knees. Her legs parted shamelessly as I skimmed my fingers up her thighs and over her center, exposing the soft pink of her pussy.

  “Ian...” she moaned, her body writhing on the hard surface.

  I leaned forward and dragged my tongue through her cleft, tasting her, teasing her. One taste and I wanted more—needed more. She was salty and sweet, a heady combination that made me question everything I’d been fighting against. My tongue glided over the silken flesh and swirled over her clit as I slid two fingers inside her. She came within minutes, her feet digging into my shoulders and her fingers gripping my hair.

  Disentangling myself, I stood and removed my shirt. In one movement, I flipped Caitlin onto her stomach and jerked the robe from her body. She supported herself on her forearms, her breasts pillowed beneath her, and shifted her feet, spreading her legs wide.

  I shoved my pants to my thighs and fisted my cock, stroking a few times before rolling on a condom and sinking inside her slick warmth. We groaned in unison as I bottomed out, my hips flush against her amazing ass, my fingers digging into her hips. I remained still for a few moments, just enjoying the sensation.

  Impatient, Cait rocked her hips.

  “What?” I chuckled.

  She looked over her shoulder. “God, Ian, fuck me. Please fuck me.”

  “You got it.”

  I moved slowly at first, withdrawing almost all the way and then driving back inside her. It was a tease, a slow burn, until I couldn’t stand it any longer and I was driving hard, pounding, punishing. Our situation sucked, but the sex was fucking amazing.

  “I’m so close...” she breathed, snaking a hand under her to play with her clit.

  I pulled out and flipped her onto her back, resting her feet on my shoulders as I slid inside her again. Her hands lifted to tease and massage her perfect fucking tits.

&
nbsp; “Pinch your nipples,” I ordered.

  Biting her bottom lip, she complied, pinching and pulling, rolling them between her fingers. Fucking hell, I was gonna nut for sure.

  “Cait ... damn...”

  “I’m ... I’m ...” She sucked in a breath that morphed into a guttural wail as she broke, tripping into her orgasm.

  I followed soon after, teeth clenched, muscles straining. Spent, I collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath. Her legs folded around my waist, her arms over my shoulders. We slid against each other, our bodies slick with sweat.

  “You’re dirty again,” I quipped.

  “So are you.”

  “What do you think we should do about that?”

  She bit down on her bottom lip. “Shower?”

  I helped her off the table and shucked the rest of my clothes. “Lead the way.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Supposedly, the heart wants what the heart wants. In my case, my heart and brain were on the same page. The problem was my dick. That fucker had a mind of its own, and where Caitlin was concerned, it wanted to fuck.

  We’d reached an understanding that day, but I still wasn’t sure I trusted the things she said. I hadn’t gone over there intending to have sex with her, but fuck me ... she was hot as hell, especially in that little thing she called a robe. I couldn’t control myself.

  After a rather long shower, we spent the rest of the day fucking on just about every surface in her apartment. I couldn’t keep my hands to myself and felt like I’d taken a damn Viagra or some shit. I wasn’t sure what time we finally fell asleep, but it was more of the same Sunday. We were insatiable.

  Fortunately for my sanity—and my dick—I was scheduled to leave town Monday for a shoot in Fredericksburg, a little over four hours away. After that, I was due in Hunt and Salado. I had allowed most of the week for those three stops, and honestly, I needed the break; otherwise, I was concerned I’d fuck myself to death.

  I was on the way home from Salado late Friday afternoon, Caitlin on my mind—rather, I had fucking her on my mind—when I decided what I really needed was a fresh perspective on things. I needed some no-bullshit input from someone I could trust.