by Yvette Hines
Wedded in Passion
(Stir Sticks & Stilettos)
Yvette Hines
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission by the author.
Wedded in Passion
Copyright © 2013 Yvette Hines
Proof Editing: Bernadette Schane
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Series Note:
I hope you enjoy another short story edition of the “Stir Sticks & Stilettos” series. These little nuggets of erotic shorts are meant to excite you, at the same time, give you a little happiness at the end. Stay tuned for the next stories to follow.
Let no man put asunder…
“You Bitch!” I grabbed the woman, now my ex-friend, by the hair and slapped her hard across the face twice.
Lenzy swung her hands up trying to protect her face as she screamed. “Katherine…this is not what—”
Straddling the woman’s squirming body, I smacked her again for the lie she was about to tell. Why was it that when people were caught they always attempted to tell the person who caught them it wasn’t what it looked like. “Your naked ass is in bed with my fiancé. It looks just like what it is.”
“Katherine, stop…listen.” The male voice shouted.
Before I could swing on the girl again, I was grabbed hard around the waist and dragged off her. Going ballistic, I kicked and thrashed against the arms around me. There could only be one person holding me and that was the other culprit in the situation. “Get your damn hands off me.”
Still trying to hold me, as I was attempting to break away, he said, “We need to talk about—“
Twisting my body, I started at him, feeling satisfaction as my nails connected with that pretty face of his. He was a model in New York, it would be hard for him to get gigs anytime soon with wounds on him. I let out a dry laugh, finally getting away from him. “Talk? Now you two want to talk! You’re screwing my friend in the same suite where my room is just on the other side of the setting area.” Balling my fist I wanted to sink it deep into his face. I wasn’t a violent person. Had never had a fight in my life, but at the moment I just wanted to beat the hell out of both of them. “You are a self-centered jackass.”
He stood there in nothing but his jeans, still open, as he tried to wipe the blood from his face. “Katherine, this meant nothing.”
“Nothing?” I threw my hands wide to encompass the room where I just caught them having sex.
“Nothing?” Lenzy called out behind me.
I turned around and aimed a look at the tramp that had Lenzy closing her mouth. I know she didn’t have the nerve to be offended. “I trusted you, Lenzy. Even when everyone said you were nothing but an opportunist. You’re nothing but a whore. How could I be so stupid as to have you as my maid of honor?”
“Look, Katherine—” Michael tried to take my hand.
“Don’t touch me,” I said, shaking him off.
He held his hands up. “You weren’t supposed to be here. This was just a simple good-bye.” His mouth pulled up in the corners and he had the audacity to try one of his million-dollar ad smiles on me.
“Good-bye?” I looked from Michael to Lenzy. “How long has this been going on?”
Lenzy scrambled from the bed as she held the sheet around her. “Not at all. This is only the second time. You know Michael and I know each other from the industry and we hooked up a couple years ago on Valentine’s Day.”
Valentine’s Day two years ago? If a car had run into me I would not have been more stunned. “The night before you brought him to my house for breakfast because he was the perfect guy for me?”
“Well, you weren’t dating then,” Lenzy defended as she tossed her cinnamon colored weave over her shoulder.
“That’s your damn excuse.” Grabbing the long skirt of my wedding dress, I backed up, shaking my head. “I don’t even want to know at what point you had the damn bright idea to hook me up with him. I’ve been a stupid fool for two years.”
“No, Katherine. We are good together. Tomorrow when you become my wife this will be history.”
“Your wife? Hell, no! I’m not walking with you anywhere unless it is to take your body to the morgue.” Snatching the two carat round diamond off my finger, I threw it at his feet. I hoped he’d make the mistake of stepping on it and shattering it.
“Katherine…Katherine… don’t do this. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.” Lenzy stepped to me with her hand stretched forward.
I backed further toward the door shaking my head. “If you touch me, I’ll break each of your fingers off and feed them to you.”
The other woman’s eyelids stretched wide as she snatched her hand back.
“Stop all this, Katherine. We all just need to sit down and talk.” He came forward.
“No. No!” I turned, needing to get out of the room and away from them. I ran through the suite and out the door.
A fool. I had been a damn fool. For two years, I had given up so much of my life, besides my job as marketing specialist. While dating Michael, the insecure ass, I had spent all my free time with him or traveling with him on his assignments.
“Katherine…wait,” Michael yelled.
I whirled around in the middle of the hall and screamed, “Stop calling me Katherine…I’ve told you a million times over I hate that name. It makes me sound like an old lady.”
Halting, Michael looked at me oddly for a moment. As if the words were new to him.
They weren’t. Turning, I continued on. I was thankful the elevator opened before he got down the hall. I stepped in and pushed the close door button double time. I pressed the button for the lobby, not knowing where else to go. Hopefully, there would be a room available.
Ah, hell, all of my family and friends were staying in the hotel.
I could go to my parents’ room, but I didn’t feel like an ‘I told you so’ speech. Mom and Dad had hated Michael from the first moment I brought him home to meet them. Dad was a political science professor so he enjoyed vigorous debates and intellectual conversations. Michael provided neither of those.
My ex only concerned himself with fashion, parties and indoor activities such as racquetball, swimming and running on an inside track.
Michael is a selfish ass.
Now enclosed in the elevator, I realized I was shaking all over. My throat felt as if someone had a vise grip around it as I fought the urge to cry. I would not allow a single tear to drop over that jerk.
Seeing myself reflected in the shiny metal, I looked like even more of a fool. Garbed a day early in my wedding dress, my hair pulled back in the French roll I had been wearing all day. I was disgusted.
The elevator chimed, flashing the number one as it came to a gentle stop. A second before the doors slid open I sent up a quick prayer that there would not be a member of my family or any of the wedding guests in the lobby.
When the doors parted, my breath caught in my chest as the one person who could make me feel even more like an idiot was sta
nding before me. Char Randle.
“I must be late for the wedding,” he said. Char, whose real name was Charles, stood six two, that had not changed. But the nerdish guy I’d grown up with was long gone. His medium golden brown locks that used to hang in shaggy locks around his head were now cut neat and comb away from his face. The new style allowed an unobstructed view of his sincere, soft fawn-brown eyes. Eyes no longer hidden behind wire-rimmed glasses. Char had become a hunk.
“Um…no.” That was the only thing that came out of my mouth before the tears I had refused to let go moments before came streaming down my cheeks. Shit I hated crying. It always made me feel weak and hopeless.
“Oh, Katy…why the tears?”
In two seconds I was wrapped in Char’s strong arms.
“Sorry, this elevator is full.” He called out to whoever had been waiting in the lobby.
I couldn’t see past his broad shoulders that shielded me from onlookers.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” His hand rubbed along my back.
I shook my head, not knowing if I could reveal my humiliation to the one person I truly abandoned for the asshole in my suite.
“You want me to take you back to your room?”
Stepping away from him, I wiped my face and pulled myself back together. “Heavens, no. Anywhere but there. I don’t want to see anyone right now.”
He gave her a raised eyebrow.
“You’re fine.” She smiled and waved her hand. Char could always do that. He could always make her smile even when she was feeling horrible.
Leaning over, he pushed the button for the seventh floor. “Then I will take you to my room. I doubt if anyone will look for you there.”
Moving a little further away, I pressed my back against the wall then leaned my head back. Closing my eyes for a brief moment, finding it hard to look at my friend of so many years. Guilt was eating at my core.
The old saying floated through my mind that ‘you never push friends aside for lovers because when things go wrong your friends are who you would need to turn to’. That was so true. Here I was dependent on Char like when we were younger.
When I opened my eyes, I was caught in his gaze. He held mine for a moment then his gaze traveled along the length of my gown.
I wondered what he thought as he assessed me in my Signature Galina. I had fallen in love with the dress the moment I saw the soft gown with its ruched bodice and embellished beaded neckline that continued over one shoulder. When I had stood in the mirror at the bridal store, I had believed that the sultry charmeuse fabric draped along my new curves just right. Hell, I had dieted for six strict months to have them.
Feeling self-conscious under his inspection, I stood up straighter and made sure my bare feet were hidden beneath the hem.
Michael had originally stated he loved my thick curves when we met. That my body was different from the emaciated models he was around all the time.
I shook my head. They had been empty words. As soon as we’d gotten engaged he’d begun pointing out all my flaws—from my style of dress to my weight. He wanted me in heels and small tight dresses all the time and never without make-up.
“You look beautiful in your dress.” Char’s voice broke into my thoughts.
Focusing on him again, I said, “Thank you. You look good without the glasses.”
The elevator dinged.
“Lasik. About eight months ago.” He winked at me as the doors to the elevator opened.
I stepped out first then he exited carrying his garment bag and a small handbag.
He stared at the panel with arrows and numbers to the rooms. “I’m in 726, so that is left.”
We didn’t have far to go. As soon as Michael had the card in the lock I heard my Aunt Macy’s loud voice echoing along the corridor. I quickly went inside the room.
Char’s entry was a lot more casual as he closed and bolted the door behind him. “You truly are trying to hide out.”
“Oh, yes.” I let out a heavy sigh. My head was starting to throb painfully. I began rubbing my temples. I hated getting headaches. Especially a tension one that ached across my forehead and behind my eyes. I’d been getting them a lot over the last few months. My meds were now in my suite with the lying bitch and cheating asshole.
“Well, why don’t you have a seat on the couch and I’ll make you some tea and see if I can find some pain relievers in my bag.” He moved beyond the sitting area and into the double doors of the bedroom.
From where I stood, I could see the king-size bed that encompassed most of the room and the door leading to the bathroom. Char was now out of my sight at the closet putting his things away, I assumed. I glanced away, not needing to think about the fact I was in a hotel room alone with a man. This was Char, he was my best friend from childhood. We shared tents when we were kids when our parents took us camping every Fourth of July in the Appalachian Mountains. Granted, his sister and brother were also in the tent with us, but he and I always put our sleeping bags next to each other. We would stay up late whispering about things while the others slept.
Char was different.
We had both been nerds in school. Social outcasts. He was into science and technology while I loved business and marketing. It was no wonder he’d ended up a neuro-radiologist and I’d become a marketing graphics consultant. The joke was, I was a consultant to fashion magazines and I knew nothing about designers and things. Michael and Lenzy had no problem reminding me of that often. Michael loved to call me his ‘little project’.
Thinking about that nickname pissed me off and made me want to march back up the stairs and beat the shit out of him with the $900 heels he had convinced me I had to have to go with my wedding dress.
I shook my head in disgust. I may not know fashion, but I was a master at helping magazine’s set it up for high consumer sales. All companies truly worried about was the bottom line—money.
Plopping down on the couch, no reason to be concerned with the state of my dress, I tried not to think about my job or the two people who betrayed me. Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes and just tried to breathe for a moment and hoped the tightness in my chest would ease some.
“Here, Katy, take these.” Char’s voice caused me to open my eyes.
I sat up and held my hand out. He shook three pills into my palm and handed me a cup of tea.
I realized I must have drifted off for a moment since I had not even heard him making the tea.
“I think I’m exceeding the recommended dose, doc.” I offered him a small smile as I popped the pills into my mouth.
“True, but I figured if you’re traipsing around the hotel in your wedding dress, not caring who sees you in it, then you’re sporting a doozy of a headache.” After he placed the bottle on the table, he sat down on the other end of the couch and shifted so he faced me.
Good. He looked and smelled so good. Char was different from Michael. It took Michael’s high-dollar clothing to make him attractive, when Char could put on a department store polo shirt and slacks and take a woman’s breath away.
Wow, Katy, where did that thought come from? Char had never been the breath-stealing kind of guy—in high school or college.
Lowering my eyes from his gaze, I sipped the tea and swallowed all three pills. The beverage was hot but not scalding. I realized he must have added a little cold water to it so I could drink it immediately.
I drank more, enjoying the mild unsweetened tea. “You remembered I don’t like my tea with sugar.”
He chuckled. “I did. Hard to forget. It always amazed me how someone that loved sweets so much could take their tea and coffee straight.”
Shrugging my shoulder, I said, “I don’t know why I like it that way either. But it always seemed like I was ruining the hard work of the people making the blends if I tainted it with sugar.”
“Taint…enhance. The sweeter the better.”
We fell silent as I continued to drink. When the cup was empty, I sat it on the table.
&
nbsp; “Would you like some more?”
“No, thank you.” I looked around the room, anywhere but at him.
“Your mom always said tea makes everything better or puts things into perspective.”
I nodded. “She does say that. Mom always liked you.”
“That’s because I’m a likable guy.” He patted his chest.
More time stretched.
“Are we going to discuss the elephant in the room or are we just going to study the paint on the wall?”
That was Char, blunt and direct. He never was one to beat around the bush.
“I’d rather talk about the paint or why you’re here.” I glanced back to him.
“That’s not as important.”
My mind wondered for a moment about his presence. I hadn’t invited him to my wedding. Char was a big ‘no no’ in Michael’s book. His parents weren’t even invited because my mom told me they would be in Cincinnati; Char’s sister was having her first baby; rather babies—twins. His parents had moved there temporarily once Vera, Char’s sister, had hit her six-month mark.
“Where would you like to start? Why I’m wearing my wedding dress or how I caught Michael fucking Lenzy?”
Char’s blink was quick, as if prompted from the shock of my words.
“Shit… you kidding me, Katy?”
“Oh, Char…the only joke is the one played on me for two years.” I grabbed the pillow behind my back then pressed it against my chest.
“That ass.” He glanced away and shoved his fingers through his thick hair.
“Yup, he is.” My fingers played with the tassel on the corner of the pillow.
“Let’s start with what I hope is the easier part, why are you in your wedding dress?”
I sighed. “We might as well. In some way, I think the two things are combined.”
“How?”
“We had the rehearsal dinner tonight. My mom and I had plans to go and tour the church and the ballroom where we were going to have the reception with the wedding planner.”