by Larkin Rose
“Well, it’s not like you’re a hag or anything. But you’re single. For a reason.” Marci trailed a finger along her ribcage, igniting a path of heat. “You are single. Right?”
Tessa could hear the plea, and the mistrust, in her question. It made her sad. Marci was living proof that love could be destroyed in the blink of an eye. Someone had cheated on her. Someone she loved. Trusted. They had stabbed that knife deep.
“Completely single. Not partially. Not halfway. Not even an ex looking to get back together, kind of single.” Tessa took her hand and placed it between them, mainly because those soft caresses were heating her skin all over again. “Tell me about her. Your cheating ex.”
Marci briefly looked away but not before Tessa caught the light of pain in her eyes. Whatever happened, she’d never seen it coming. The sucker punch.
“Instead, why don’t you tell me how long you’ve been a wedding planner.”
“Since potty training, I think?” Tessa grinned. “My mom passed down the trait to me and my big sister, Michelle.”
“Only one sibling?”
“Two. I have a half sister much younger than me. Monty. She is the polar opposite of me and Michelle. You?”
“Only child. Only grandchild. Both my mom and dad were only children and grandchildren. Giving up at one seems to run in the family.” Marci played with Tessa’s fingers.
“Count yourself lucky. I spend most of my time making Michelle’s dreams come true at our, her, venue and keeping Monty out of jail.”
“Ah. A troublemaking black sheep?”
“Oh no. She’s actually amazing. Great friend. Fantastic sister. Chef at a five-star restaurant. Worked hard to gain her position. Volunteers at the homeless shelter once a month. Very dependable. Adores her family. Adored by the community. Thinks I walk on water, poor thing. Pays her own bills. Stunning apartment overlooking the city. Extremely mature in most ways.”
“I hear a huge but coming.”
“She can’t keep her hands off married women to save her ass from a beat down.”
Tessa hadn’t meant to make light of the facts about her little sister. Truth was, her behavior was disgusting. It was disturbing. But no matter how many times she scolded her, or even begged her to stop the bullshit, Monty was a grown adult and Tessa couldn’t make her behave.
“Not cool,” Marci said.
“Not cool at all. I love her to death. Would protect her until my dying breath. But that bad habit drives me to cuss. It disappoints me, ya know?”
Marci nodded, and Tessa could tell the subject was hitting too close to home.
“Your turn. Tell me about her.”
“Not much to tell. She cheated. I went in one direction. She went in another. End of story.”
“That simple, huh?”
“That simple.”
“And did she admit why she did such an ugly thing to you?”
“I didn’t give her a chance. There wasn’t a single excuse that would change the outcome.”
“The outcome didn’t have to change to get that answer. Don’t you think you deserved that answer?”
“I deserved to not be cheated on. So I didn’t give a shit what excuse she had.”
“That would explain your hostility and mistrust.”
“How so?”
“You haven’t found your closure. Haven’t come to grips with what she did. You still don’t know what made her stoop so low.”
“Oh, I got plenty of closure. I burned everything she left behind. Packed my shit, put my house on the market, and came home.”
“That’s not closure. That’s angry mode. That’s robotically shifting into self-defense.”
“What else was I supposed to do? Thank her for the porn show, then go back to work as if my whole world wasn’t crumbling around me?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then what was I supposed to do?”
Tessa shrugged. “I’m not an expert on cheaters, nor am I a cheater. But you’re going to run across her again someday if you’re lucky. Ask her why. Your closure will be in her answer. I promise. And then you’ll be free of your own chains.”
Marci considered her words. Had she been robotic? Too fast to ship out? Too quick to run? Should she have given Ashley the chance to explain, even if the answer wouldn’t, couldn’t, change the ending? Did she even care why anymore? Was her need to fuck and walk away now the chain still binding her to Ashley?
What exactly would have given her closure? Hearing the why? Was there any answer that might have mattered? No. She couldn’t think of anything that would have made the pain stop. Nothing Ashley could have said would have taken away the fact that the world as she knew it was over. Just like that. All gone.
“Did you know the person she cheated with?”
“No. Some twat much younger than her. Caught them in the act. In my fucking house. In my fucking bed.”
“Ouch. That punch hurt. What a douche.”
“That she fucked someone or that she did it under our roof.”
“All of the above. But the bed is personal. If someone ever cheated on me in my own bed, I would be severely tempted to burn them alive in it. Don’t fuck with my bed.”
Marci snickered. “I burned the sheets and sold the bed.”
“Did you stuff her body in the mattress?” Tessa added a playful smile.
“Nah. But the thought of stuffing that other bitch in it did cross my mind.” Marci trailed a line over the curve of Tessa’s hip, already tired of talking about Ashley. Wendy had worn that subject out.
“Oh no. It wasn’t the other woman’s fault. Never blame the wrong person. Your wife did this to you. Not her young little twat, as you called her.”
“It’s hard not to blame them both.”
“I’m sorry she did that to you. That had to be pretty rough. How long were you together?”
“Eleven years. Married nine of them.”
“That’s a long time considering most couples don’t make it five. You must have really loved her.”
“Let’s talk about something else. Or just whimper. That sounds much better.” Marci leaned down and captured a nipple between her lips and gave a light suckle.
Tessa rolled over with a moan and squirmed against the mattress, her hips lifting slightly off the mattress. “You didn’t say her name.”
Marci leaned up to look at her. Was she serious? “You want to know her name? Now?”
“Yes. Say her name.” Tessa pushed Marci’s hand between her legs and ground against it.
Marci teased her wet opening and then eased her fingers inside, hoping she would forget her request. She was sick to death of talking about a dead subject.
Tessa hissed and matched her thrusts. “Say it, Marci.”
“Ashley. Dammit.”
“Well, remember this, Miss Marci. Ashley only got a piece of you.” She covered Marci’s hand with her own and pushed her in deeper. “Your best revenge is to make sure it wasn’t the best piece.”
Out of every grueling conversation with Wendy, not a single sentence had struck a chord the way Tessa’s just had. She was so right. Ashley might have put a dent in her, but she didn’t break her. Dammit. She wasn’t broken. And how true those words were. It was up to her to get back on track, to put the ugly past behind her, and to give all of herself to the next person in line.
She rolled on top of Tessa, silenced her with a hard kiss, then bucked inside her.
An hour later, Tessa finally crawled out of the bed. She was in desperate need of a shower. Her body was so sore it made her groan. Pain that banked on pure satisfaction or a freight train disaster. The way her muscles ached, she wasn’t so sure anymore. She had no clue that much bliss could be so tense. Wow. So. Much. Sex. She was positive her whole lifespan of orgasms couldn’t match this single night. Including, but not limited to, her own masturbation.
Her head swam and she struggled to remember the last time she’d eaten. Or drank. Many hours ago, for sure.
&n
bsp; A cup of coffee would help before she headed to the lodge to start the cleaning and restocking phase. Camille and her rowdy friends would be departing soon. Their transportation was due early this morning. Her and her crew’s scorecards would be turned in to Wendy shortly before their flight left, as Wendy was the last line of communication and saw each set of clients off at the airport. Within a few hours, Tessa would get the dreaded news.
Tessa’s private outburst could have possibly cost her team the win. Hell, if Camille wanted to get downright nasty about being put in her place, if only she and Tessa and Marci had heard all of it, she and her crew could be headed home by nightfall.
The thought made her sad. And angry. She’d worked so hard. Her crew had been amazing every step of the way. No way Camille could be the petty, immature, drunken ending none of them deserved.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Marci reached for her.
“I need coffee, a shower, and more coffee before I head back up to the lodge to see what kind of damage awaits me.” Tessa dodged the outstretched hand and searched the bedroom floor for her clothes, tugged off and tossed away in the rushed throes of lust. “And I think I need to squeeze food in there somewhere. I can’t tell if I’m famished or I’ve pulled a muscle.” She tossed Marci a teasing grin.
“Grab a shower here.” Marci scooted off the bed and pulled Tessa against her chest. “I’ll get us some coffee started. I can even whip up a mean omelet.”
“Mmm. That sounds great.” Tessa draped her arms around Marci’s neck, completely aware of the quickening in her gut.
Not from the mention of food. Or coffee. Not from hunger. Not from too many sexual abdominal crunches.
She liked Marci. That was the problem. That was the familiar stirring. She liked Marci’s personality. Loved that she loved the great outdoors as much as she did. Hated that she liked and loved those things about her. She absolutely shouldn’t.
But this wouldn’t last much longer, Tessa reminded herself.
The game was nearing an end. Too close to the end, if Camille had anything to do with it. Regardless, once this contest was over, whether that be in a few hours or the next few weeks, her time with Marci would be over.
Marci, and these little stolen moments of sexual magic, couldn’t be a roadblock on her path to success. Actually, Tessa wouldn’t allow her to be. As much fun as this was, nothing and no one would stand in her way.
“Thanks. But I need to get back to my cabin so Seth can give me the lowdown on last night’s adventures.”
“You sure?” Marci tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m positive I can prove you wrong on the pulled muscle theory.”
Tessa playfully pushed against her. “I’m sure. But thanks for the offer. If I’m still a participant by the end of the day, a rain check will be necessary, however.”
Tessa regretted the words as soon as they left her lips. This needed to stop. Not because it was against any rules. Simply because Tessa was going to get in her own way if she wasn’t careful.
No. This had to stop. Very soon. Very, very soon. And the way Marci was devouring her with those chocolate eyes, she might never escape this paradise.
Marci gave a nod. “In that case, I’ll go throw myself in the shower. Have a great day.” She turned and headed for the bathroom.
Tessa watched her retreating naked form, second-guessing her decision to shower in her own cabin. Marci had proven she was pretty good on her knees.
She blinked at the thought and quickly headed for the front door. The cold air outside would help cool down the snaking desire to join Marci.
Her coat was tossed over a chair in Marci’s office so she ducked in to grab it and noticed a file in the center of the desk. Her name was handwritten on the tab.
Curiosity won over being respectful of someone else’s privacy so she plucked it off the desk and flipped the cover open.
A five-by-seven picture of her was taped to the inside. The very one on the venue website that was snuggled right beside Michelle’s.
Tessa Dalton. Peoria, Arizona. Wedding Planner. Group Leader.
Tessa felt her breath snag in her throat as she read the adjoining page. Her age. Her experiences. The name and address of the venue. What day she had been accepted to the contest. How she was chosen to be the group leader. All listed in the different blocks on a form letter.
“What the fuck,” Tessa whispered, anger crawling through her like slow rolling fog.
How long had Marci had this file? Before the contest? After?
Had she known who Tessa was as soon as she stepped into that bar?
Too many questions filtered through her mind.
She charged back to the bathroom, unclear what she wanted to say. Or what she wanted to ask. She only knew that she couldn’t leave without getting an answer.
Steam filled the room as she yanked open the sliding doors and thrust the file forward.
“Changed your mind?” Marci wiped water from her face and looked down at Tessa.
Her joking smile melted from her lips as she focused on the file.
“How long have you had this? Did you know who I was before I got here? Did you know who I was when you fucked me all night?” Tessa shoved the folder closer.
“Yes. No. Wait. No!” Marci stumbled over her words as Tessa backed away, fuming.
“Did you or did you not have this folder before this contest began? Fucking yes or no!”
“Yes, but I—”
“You accused me of trying to fuck my way to the finish line, Marci. And you meant it. And yet you are the one who knew exactly who I was?” Tessa took another step back, conflicted between the need to hear Marci’s response and the fear of hearing a lie. “You are a twisted mental case. And a dirty sleazebag. A genuine, fucking class A dirty sleazebag.” She dropped the file on the floor. “Stay the hell away from me. I mean it.”
Tessa charged from the room. She grabbed her coat and jerked open the front door just as she heard footsteps pounding from the bedroom.
She slammed the door behind her, angry tears threatening, though she didn’t know why.
Marci was nothing to her. Nothing more than a release of pent up energy created from this chaotic game. The game that could deliver her a future she envisioned long before this contest. The future she’d been dreaming of for so long.
So why was she on the verge of mad crying? Because Marci decided to throw a twist in the contest by fucking one of the contestants? What exactly was her plan for that? Why did Tessa give a shit at all? And why hadn’t she practiced what she’d preached only hours ago? Why hadn’t she listened to Marci’s answer?
Because she was afraid there was a logical explanation, that’s why.
Because Marci was right. The excuses couldn’t change the ending.
Her ending, if Camille hadn’t sabotaged it, didn’t include Marci Jones or her ability to give multiple orgasms.
This was for the best. This was exactly what Tessa wanted. A reason not to look back. A reason to stay far away from Marci.
She was nothing more than a distraction.
A distraction she wouldn’t be allowing again.
Chapter Ten
Marci plopped down in the chair across from Wendy’s desk. She hadn’t planned on driving down to the resort to vent or whine or bitch, but after four days of trying to contact Tessa, she needed to get the hell out of that cabin.
The walls were closing in on her. Minute by minute, her thoughts were consumed with the need to explain herself. To make Tessa listen.
Tessa wouldn’t answer her texts. Wouldn’t answer phone calls. And going to her cabin was completely out of the question. That was one line she wouldn’t cross. She wouldn’t involve Tessa’s crew in personal drama. Although, she’d come very close.
She was hoping to intercept Tessa during one of her morning walks, or even her ritual evening strolls, but even those had vanished. She’d had nothing. Not a single glimpse of her unless it was darting to the Jeep. H
ell, she’d even sent Seth to Marci’s cabin with their itinerary for the new clients again instead of coming herself. She wanted to congratulate her on winning top points again when she truly thought Camille was going to seek revenge in the most distasteful way. Yet she hadn’t. She and her posse had raved about the crew, how professional they were, and how fortunate they were to have gotten Tessa’s crew for their vacation.
Marci had been tempted to ask Seth about her. Tempted to beg him to make Tessa return her phone calls. Wouldn’t that have been mature? No, she wouldn’t have looked like a crazy person at all.
“Man, if you don’t look like shit.” Wendy turned away from her computer and arched a brow. “I take it she still won’t speak to you?”
“Not even a text.” Marci forked her fingers through her hair and leaned back.
“I probably shouldn’t be talking to you about this at all, since I’m basically her boss, but the fact is, if you had done your job like I asked you to to begin with, this whole fiasco could have been avoided. Going over those files was your only job.” Wendy shrugged. “You only had one job.”
“Thanks for the reminder, pal.”
Wendy dismissed her sarcasm, turned back to her monitor, and clicked a button on the mouse. “You know I’m right.”
“According to you, you’re always right. Yet you still find the need to remind me.”
“I have to remind you because you will sit right there and play the victim for the next hour if I let you.”
“I’m not playing the victim.”
Wendy turned in her chair and pushed the reading glasses on top of her head. “Then why are you sitting across from me with your bottom lip rolled out like a red carpet pretending that she doesn’t have a legitimate reason to assume you’re an ass?”
“I get it, Wendy. I know how it looked. I just wish she would give me the chance to explain.”
“Kind of the way you gave her a chance to explain?”
Marci angled her head and stared hard at Wendy. “Damn. Drive the knife hard, won’t you?”
Wendy’s expression softened. “Marci, you know how desperate I am to see you back in the game, but maybe Tessa isn’t the one you should have your sights set on.” She leaned against the desk, her eyes so serious Marci had to look away.