Coming Back To You

by Lynne, Donya

  Yes. This was what she wanted. Him. Mark. She wanted Mark. They clicked. Everything about the two of them together felt right in a hundred different ways. For the first time in over a year, her body sang, and it was because of him. Her body had chosen.

  Every nerve ending celebrated. Every cell rejoiced. She was home. With Mark, she was where she belonged.

  Tears of realization sprang to her eyes as he pushed down his pants and kicked them off the foot of the bed. She had thought she’d moved on, that she was over him, when all along she’d only been in denial. She was nowhere near over him and never would be. She’d fought her feelings when he’d returned two months ago, but she’d only been fighting the inevitable. She couldn’t fight fate, anymore. All she wanted was to feel him against her again. Inside her.

  Before she knew it, he’d stripped her out of her bra and panties. There was nothing left between them but air.

  “Condom?” he said between kisses. But he said it as if he were asking permission, as if he was giving her one final chance to stop him.

  “Top drawer.” She pointed to the nightstand. Permission granted.

  He fumbled to open it then reached in, fishing a condom from the box.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered against her mouth. The sound of tearing cellophane made her heart skip impatiently. One step closer to finding her way back.

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  She’d barely spoken the words when he sank inside her. They both let out a ragged exhale, and she dug her fingers into the back of his shoulders.

  So full. He filled her completely. Her inner muscles clenched, already eager to send her into the clouds.

  “I won’t be able to go slow.” His jaw was taut, the skin around his eyes strained.

  “I don’t want it slow.” She rolled her hips against him. What she wanted was hard and fast. She wanted to feel again. For months, she had felt nothing. Sexually, she’d been an apathetic vacuum, defunct and void of arousal. But right now, she was once again liberated. The shackles of resentment and sexual frustration fell away, and pleasure bloomed inside her.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t hurt me.” And even if he did, at least pain was feeling. But she was too aroused for that. “Now, fuck me.”

  Once more, his restraint snapped, and he was fucking her in a way she had never been fucked. Not even when he’d taken her against the wall in the conference room—as savage as that had been—measured up to the vicious way his body took hers now.

  It was as if he hadn’t had sex in forever. As if he’d been starving for affection as much as she had. Just how long had it been since he’d slept with a woman? Surely, there had been others since he’d left. The woman from New Year’s Eve, for instance.

  But now wasn’t the time to think of that.

  Within minutes, they were both speeding toward climax, crying out with every stroke. Karma didn’t care if her neighbors heard. Let them hear. Let them bear witness to the magical, wonderful moment when she and Mark had found their way back to one another.

  “Oh God! Oh God!” She thrashed her head on the pillow, arching against him.

  “Fuck!” His teeth grazed her shoulder as he gasped for air, pounding and thrusting into her body over and over.

  She couldn’t breathe. Her voice failed her. She was about to come. And not just come, but light up so severely she’d be able to energize a small town.

  “I can feel you getting tighter.” He grunted against her neck then raised himself to search her face. “You’re going to come.”

  She nodded and met his gaze. “Yes.” The word flew out of her mouth on a breath.

  “Me, too.”

  And just the way they’d done so many times, they crested together, their bodies splintering into euphoria.

  The muscles of his back and arms contracted and released repeatedly as he came harder than she could ever remember him coming. Wave after wave of spasms ranged up and down her body as she pulsed around his throbbing cock.

  She held onto him as if letting go would kill them both, reveling in the way he tucked his face against her neck the way he used to. She loved that about him. Loved how he seemed to surrender to her as much as she did to him during their lovemaking.

  Tears fell down her face as she closed her eyes. This was right. There was a chance she would regret her decision, but her heart wanted Mark. She’d given her brain a chance to get it right, but it had failed. Now it was her heart’s turn. Hopefully, the damn thing knew what it was doing. If it didn’t, and Mark left her again, it might be the last mistake her heart ever made.

  Chapter 27

  Mark stared up at the ceiling. He and Karma had made love almost non-stop for the last three hours. His lack of sexual contact for over a year had been too much to overcome when she touched him…pressed her mouth against his back…kissed him. He’d dreamed of this moment for so long, but now, lying in the darkness illuminated only by the street lamp outside, reality settled back in.

  What had he done? Distress twisted inside his gut. This wasn’t how he wanted to win Karma back. Not while she was still engaged. She belonged to another man, for Christ’s sake. And yet he’d fucked her. He had fucked another man’s woman. He had broken his cardinal rule.

  Self-loathing roiled through his veins. He was no better than Antonio. He had become the one thing he had promised he would never be. A man who fucked over another man by sleeping with his woman.

  Shit.

  He rubbed his palms up and down his face then turned and looked at her. She was sound asleep. Still as a leaf on a windless day. If not for the heavy rise and fall of her chest, he could have mistaken her for dead. But he’d never seen anything more beautiful than her that very moment. For a year, all he’d wanted was to have her back, but not like this. Not by coming between her and Brad so underhandedly.

  This wasn’t good.

  As quietly as he could, he eased out of the bed. Damn. It was after nine. He should have been in Chicago by now. Not only had he broken a cardinal rule, he’d dropped the ball on getting back to Chicago in time for his fitting in the morning. If he left right now, he could be home by midnight and still not punk out on Rob. Then he could figure out how he was going to fix this with Karma.

  After pulling on his pants and grabbing his shoes, he tiptoed back to the kitchen, where he retrieved his shirt from the floor and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the utility drawer.

  Karma,

  I didn’t want to wake you.

  Thank you for tonight.

  Have to go. Will call you.

  M

  The note was short and sweet, but right now, he didn’t know what else to say, and he didn’t have time to figure it out. He was so unbelievably late already, and his head was a disaster area of emotional turmoil. He hated himself for what he’d done. How could he have been so careless?

  Turning in a rushed flourish, he didn’t see the note lift off the counter and slide down between the cabinet and the refrigerator.

  Dressing quickly, he gave a final look around before grabbing his coat and slipping out the door.

  In his car, he checked his messages. An hour-old text from Rob read Where the hell are you? You’re missing dinner.

  Damn. That’s right. There’d been a dinner planned tonight for a few friends in the wedding party.

  He typed out a quick reply. Sorry. Delayed. On my way now.

  * * *

  Karma woke with a smile on her face and her body aching in the most delightful way. She’d been dreaming about Mark.

  She rolled over, ready to snuggle into him and persuade him into another round, only to be greeted by cold sheets and an empty bed.

  “Mark?” She sat up, searching the shadows. The clock on her nightstand showed it was almost one in the morning.

  Surely, he hadn’t left. Not without saying good-bye. That wouldn’t have been like him. At least not the Mark she remembered.

  “Mark?” She got
up and pulled on her robe.

  The apartment was dead silent.

  The light from the kitchen was on, and she smiled. Okay, he’d just gotten up for something to eat.

  “Hey, what are you—” When she turned the corner, the kitchen was just as empty as the rest of her apartment.

  She glanced into the living room and frowned. Had he really left? Without saying good-bye?

  That’s when she noticed his clothes were gone.

  Okay, so maybe he’d left a note. When she found none, she returned to the bedroom and turned on the light, coming up empty after searching the desk, the bed, the dresser, everywhere.

  This wasn’t funny, anymore. She could understand why Mark wouldn’t want to wake her, but Old Mark wouldn’t have left without at least leaving her a note. He wasn’t that crass.

  As dread began to filter into her heart, she dug her phone from her purse. Nothing. Not a single text or missed phone call.

  She dropped her phone back in her purse and slowly sat on the edge of the bed, numb. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, as if she were deflating like a hot air balloon with an empty propane tank.

  Oh God, what had she done? She’d given herself to him…she’d taken a chance and opened her heart to him one more time. And now he was gone. Again. Without a word.

  Of course he would leave. This very second, he was probably regretting everything they’d done to one another. Otherwise, why would he leave without saying good-bye or leaving at least a scribble of…what? Of gratitude? Of farewell? Her shoulders sagged. Could she blame him? She knew the score. Nothing had changed. He didn’t want any long-term involvements any more now than he had before. Leaving covertly while she slept was his way of letting her know he still wanted what he’d wanted before. No commitments. No strings. Untethered solidarity. And even if he did want more, she was still technically engaged. That had to sit as well on Mark’s stomach as poison ivy.

  Speaking of which…she’d cheated on her fiancé. She’d cheated on Brad like a slut. A no-good, slutty, loose-between-the-legs ho.

  Maybe Jade had been right.

  It didn’t matter that she’d taken off the ring or that, in her mind, she had already broken up with him. She hadn’t actually said the words or returned the ring. She was no longer in love with Brad and needed to break off their engagement, but instead of doing that, she’d run behind his back and cheated. She’d thought she was a better girlfriend than that. That she would have at least had the gumption to break things off before sleeping with someone else.

  Her only defense was that she’d been overcome by grief. Spookie’s death had shattered her sense of reason and flipped her upside down. She had wanted the comfort. Needed it. But now she realized that even if Brad had come over, he only would have made her feel worse. Tonight had cleared her vision about Brad, but now her vision was totally mucked up where Mark was concerned.

  She flopped back on the bed. Misery and disgust at her actions spilled through her brain.

  Did she regret what she’d done with Mark? Honestly, no. Even though guilt riddled her over her behavior, she wouldn’t have taken it back if given the chance. But waking up alone, with no note, no word from him, nothing…that shit hurt. Bad.

  An echo of the heartache she’d suffered when he’d left last September resurfaced and bounced around inside her chest. A lump formed in her throat, and she rolled to her side, tears in her eyes.

  Maybe it was time she counted her losses once and for all. She just couldn’t see how any of this would end happily for anyone, least of all her.

  Chapter 28

  Karma’s Blog

  Sunday, November 18

  “Time For a Change”

  I’ve decided to leave my job. I can’t work with M anymore knowing we have no future together. I love him. I admit that now. I never stopped loving him. All this time, I’ve tried to tell myself that I was over him, that I no longer loved him, that I could be happy without him. And then I slept with him Friday night.

  I thought he felt the same way about me, but when I woke up, he was gone. No note. No good-bye. Nothing. If he loved me, he would have at least texted, right? His silence tells me he regrets what we did, and if he regrets what we did, then I can’t work with him, anymore, because all I’ll ever think about is how much I want to be with him, but how badly he regrets being with me.

  So, I talked to an old college professor last night, and he has an opportunity for me. I might have to move to St. Louis, but it’s a good job doing what I love. Writing. That’s right. I’ll be writing for a living. And moving to St. Louis will put distance between M and me. I’ll need distance to move on.

  I’m breaking up with B, too. He’s not what I need. He was only a mechanism of denial, anyway. I see that now. I’m miserable with him, and the relationship was over months ago if I’m being honest with myself. Don’t get me wrong. B is a nice guy. He’s hardworking, and he’ll make some woman a wonderful husband someday. But I’m not her. There’s just too much that doesn’t work between B and me.

  So I’m going to start over. I’m going to leave all this heartache behind and begin a new life somewhere else. I think that’s the only way I’m truly going to be able to move on with my life and let M go.

  * * *

  Mark had been caught up in a whirlwind of activity for the past forty-eight hours. There’d been little time to sleep, let alone think, and now was no different. Rob’s wedding rehearsal and dinner was about to get underway.

  At least the Valium took the edge off. Just acting out a wedding was enough to make his heart hammer uncontrollably.

  He stood to Rob’s right, his sweaty, trembling hands clasped in front of him. His heart rate was elevated, and he constantly shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  “Relax,” Rob whispered. “You’d think you were the one getting married.”

  Mark ran his cottony tongue over his lips and nodded sharply. As soon as the Valium kicked in, he’d be fine. Maybe. Hopefully.

  The reverend gave instructions to the group, and a few minutes later, as the bridesmaids giggled and sang a very out of tune rendition of “Here Comes the Bride,” Holly floated down the aisle toward her groom-to-be.

  Mark forced himself to take deep breaths, but by halfway through the fake ceremony, he started to relax as the Valium broke through his system.

  An hour later and feeling much more relaxed, everyone piled into the rented limousines and headed to Boka, Holly’s favorite restaurant.

  He still hadn’t talked to Karma about what had happened Friday night, but he couldn’t make any sense of it himself. And until he did—and until he could find thirty uninterrupted minutes to devote to talking to her—he needed to hold his tongue.

  “What’s eating you?” Rob asked forty-five minutes later over appetizers.

  “What do you mean?”

  Rob tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been in a funk ever since you got here.”

  “I’m just tired.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Mark glanced at the table full of laughing faces. Friends and family. Everyone was so happy. He felt like the one gloomy cloud in a blue sky. “Not here. I don’t want to talk about this here.”

  Rob leaned over and whispered something to Holly. She nodded and kissed him, then Rob stood. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “What?” Mark looked around the crowded room.

  “You heard me. Let’s go.”

  “Rob—”

  “Are you really going to tell me no. You’re here for my wedding. You don’t get to tell me no.” Rob practically dragged him out of his chair to the bar. Once there, Rob leaned his elbow on the polished wood and cocked his head to one side. “Okay, so what’s up? You look like someone shot your dog.”

  After what had happened Friday with Karma’s cat, Rob’s analogy hit a little too close to home. “No, just my heart.”

  “Huh?” He waved the bartender over.

  “Nothing,
man.” Mark tried to stand a little taller.

  “Two Coronas,” Rob told the bartender. Then he addressed Mark. “Is this about Karma?”

  Lately, when wasn’t anything about Karma? “Good guess.”

  “What happened?”

  Mark glanced around then leaned closer. “I fucked her,” he said under his breath. “Damn it, Rob, I fucked her.”

  No way could what he’d done be considered making love. You didn’t make love to another man’s fiancée.

  The heavy expression on his face must have conveyed the severity of the problem, because Rob’s eyebrows lifted as he gave a single, slow nod. “I see. I don’t suppose she’s broken things off with her fiancé, yet, has she?”

  “Another good guess.” Mark took the beer the bartender handed over and chugged a healthy swallow. “And therein lies the problem.”

  Rob raised his arm and rested his fingers on the top of Marks’ wrist. “Hey, maybe you shouldn’t be drinking. You did take a Valium.”

  “Then why’d you order me one?” He tipped the Corona toward Rob.

  Rob dropped his hand. “Good point. Just limit it to one. I don’t need you comatose tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He took another drink.

  “So, you and Karma, huh?” Rob’s face drew in tight, eyes pinched, mouth stretched into a thin line. “She wanted it?”

  “It was her idea.” Mark glanced toward the ceiling and ran his hand down his face, remembering how Karma had put her arms around him and how incredible she’d felt. Then she’d kissed him, and like an idiot, he’d let things get out of control. But it had been so long, and he’d wanted her so damn badly.

  “It was her idea?” Rob’s brow scrunched.

  Mark explained what had happened Friday night, with Spookie, meeting Karma at her apartment, and then how she’d come on to him.

  “What’s wrong with that? That’s a good sign,” Rob said.