It’s going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done if that’s what it comes to. If I know her taste, it will kill me to leave her.
Watching the trail of her hands on my skin as she caresses around my ribs, I feel close to embarrassing myself and she hasn’t even touched my dick.
“Oh!”
Her surprise ‘oh’ and the slight shake in her hands tells me she’s finally noticed what she’s done to my body.
As I stare at Dahlia’s bent head, I feel her hand start to slide lower, and I’m torn as to whether to stop her or let her carry on and see what she does. I just hope I’m strong enough to hold it together.
She palms me through my clothing and I practically explode at that first, timid touch. Then her hand slides into my pants and she uses a finger to rub against the crown of my dick, and I have to lock my knees to stay standing. Dahlia quickly looks up and meets my heated gaze before smiling and looking back down to watch what she’s doing.
Losing all reason, I cup her face in my hands, and seal my lips to hers. As our tongues meet, shivers of desire race through me.
I leave a trail of kisses along her chin and kiss the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat while I try to get ahold of myself. Hissing between my teeth, I fight my need to come.
Breathing heavily, I slowly pull away, knowing that if I don’t we won’t be doing any talking, and I don’t want her to have any regrets.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she says, her tone sad, but a wry smile appears on her beautiful lips. “I should regret it, but I don’t.”
“What?” I’m surprised.
My foggy brain needs to clear of the lust still taking hold of my body. I expected regret, not acceptance.
“I can’t regret touching you.” She rubs the frown that I know is marring my brow. “Have you seen Brittany since you’ve known me?” she asks, unexpectedly.
This isn’t a conversation I want to have while my hands are still on her.
“Dahlia.” I sigh. “Let me shower and dress, then I’ll tell you everything, but I will answer your question first.” I hesitate, and then admit, “Yes, I’ve seen her, but only because her family guilt me into seeing her on her birthday.”
I hate the whole damn situation I’m in, and for the first time since I met Brittany, I’m going to look after myself and do something for me. I wasn’t lying to my mom when I mentioned finally getting a divorce. We could even get an annulment, as we never slept together as man and wife. Thank God.
Separating from Dahlia, I pray she doesn’t notice the precum on my sweats. Before she does, I turn my back and walk toward my room. “Give me ten minutes, and we’ll talk,” I shout over my shoulder.
About to head into my room, it hits me again about her ankle. “Do you need help?”
With a shake of her head, she turns away from me. My heart drops.
“Dahlia?”
She turns back. “I’m okay, Ryder. I still don’t regret what just happened.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll be here when you’ve finished dressing.”
I hesitate before heading into my room and closing the door.
Dahlia
As Ryder disappears, I rub my thighs together to try and find some relief from the fire he’s started. Not that it works. Nothing will work unless it’s Ryder touching me. It was hot, knowing I affect him so badly.
He’s a delicious man, and I long for the day when he gets me naked and under him. I certainly won’t want to leave him while he has me like that. Leaving him? Would I be able to if I need to? I thought about it all night, wondering about the kind of marriage he has. And now, why he only sees his wife on her birthday. That doesn’t make sense.
Then it hits me.
Is she in prison?
That would explain why she isn’t around, and why he only sees her one day a year. But that’s something I can’t get my head around, I mean, why are they still married? Surely he can’t have any strong feelings for her if I’m the one he wants.
I shuffle to the end of the table, and steadying myself on my one good foot, turn and drop into the chair Ryder had previously pulled out for me before our good morning make-out. Our first make-out session, and I hope, not the last.
Shaking my head, I reach out and pull the cup of coffee toward me before adding two spoons of sugar as well as some milk. While taking a sip of the steaming brew, I try to shut my over active imagination down. I wish Ryder would hurry before I combust.
I can hear the shower going in Ryder’s room and I spend the time sipping my coffee and looking around the kitchen. This is a predicament that I swore I’d never experience, but now, I’m right in the middle—doubting everything that I do. Should I move out or weather this storm? I meant every word I said about being the other woman. There isn’t any way I’ll ever put myself into that situation because I witnessed the heartbreak and anger that my mom experienced as the other woman. I’m just not built that way . . . I can’t be the other woman. I’m just not sure where that leaves me.
With the whole-wheat toast probably cold, I take a slice and coat it with butter before taking a hefty bite. It’s while I’m trying to get the piece down my throat that Ryder appears looking so damn sexy it’s all I can do not to drool.
The man knows how to wear a pair of worn jeans. They hang low on his hips, and cup his junk rather nicely. Not to mention what they do to his well-defined thighs.
“Dahlia?”
“Huh?”
“Up here, babe.”
My eyes shoot up to his, and I see the amusement on his face.
The pig!
My gaze travels back to his groin, only to feel a blush as it spreads from my neck up into my face when I realize the bulge behind his zipper has grown.
He coughs trying to hide his laughter, but it escapes as he yanks his tee shirt down to cover his aroused body.
I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to seeing that reaction on Ryder for me. With just one look, he wants me. And he affects me the same way. I only have to hear his voice and my panties are wet. I just never gave a thought to the fact he could react the same way to me. It’s kind of surreal.
“Your jeans fit well,” I comment, washing the toast down with a gulp of coffee as I hide my smirk.
“Hmm . . . I’ll have to wear them more often if that’s the kind of reaction I get.”
“I wouldn’t complain.”
I bring my gaze back to him and realize all the laughter has gone from his face.
A part of me feels bad that he’s being forced into telling me about his past, but we don’t have any chance if he continues to keep it to himself. I’m convinced he’ll feel better once he’s told me everything.
“Have you finished?” He waves toward the table with our breakfast laid out.
“Yeah. I’m not hungry.”
Before I have chance to move under my own steam, Ryder sweeps me into his arms and carries me into the living room. He helps me to get comfortable on the sofa, and takes the chair opposite. Resting his elbows on his thighs, he drops his head into his hands.
All I want to do is go over and wrap my arms around him. It hurts so much seeing him tormented, and not comforting him. It’s a physical ache keeping my butt on the sofa while he struggles.
Finally meeting my worried gaze, he doesn’t smile, but he does start talking and I wonder when I’m going to get my Ryder back—he sounds so tormented.
“I met Brittany six and a half years ago. It was at a club not far from base and I thought it would be just one night. We had a one-night stand . . . but the one night turned out to be my worst nightmare. I came back from a training exercise to find her waiting. She told me that she was pregnant and the kid was mine. I laughed in her face when she told me.”
Fear clutches at my heart as I listen. Not only is he married, but he has a kid—the resemblance to my mom’s situation is terrifying.
He continues, “I was taken completely off guard considering I’d worn a condom, it was
gut reaction to laugh at her and tell her she was wrong. She called me a few choice names, some of which, I probably deserved . . . I finally agreed to go out for coffee with her. Of course the question on my tongue was, ‘is she sure that I was the father’ and of course, her answer was yes.
“I’m not a complete idiot and I asked around, but no one had seen her with anyone but me for months. I’d planned on having a paternity test done as soon as the baby was born . . .”
Chapter Five
Ryder
God, what the fuck is Dahlia thinking about me as I tell her what a callous bastard I am? She hasn’t said anything yet, but I’ve no doubt she’ll have loads of questions once I’ve finished my screwed up tale.
Sighing, I carry on, “Of course I did the right thing and eventually agreed to marry her. My father insisted we have a prenuptial agreement drawn up to protect us both . . . I also insisted that there was a clause added to the effect; if I discovered the child wasn’t mine after it was born, then she’d grant me a divorce. She didn’t like that, but agreed.”
I drop my head back into my hands since I can’t bear to see her reaction when I finish. “Needless to say, the weeks leading up to the wedding weren’t a walk in the park. It was a friggin’ nightmare. I never slept with her again, I just felt cold inside. As though I was dying. The day we got married, she collapsed during the reception her parents had insisted we have. She was rushed to the hospital and we were told that she’d gone into a coma. After numerous tests, and Gods knows what else, they told us they thought it was a severe reaction to the birth control pill she’d been prescribed.”
Dahlia gasps and I look up to see her eyes wider than I’ve ever seen them.
“Yeah. She was supposed to be pregnant, so why was she on birth control? That was my first question. Apparently, the doctor had no recollection of her ever being pregnant. They even did additional testing to make sure she wasn’t in the first trimester. Later, one of her friends admitted she’d used the sonogram from a client’s file at the OB’s office where she worked to show me our so called baby. I wanted to kill the bitch.”
Every time I think about the pain she’s caused me, I want to cause her harm. I’ve never laid my hands on a woman in anger but I’d sure love to throttle Brittany. Even after all these years, I feel the same anger over the lie. How much of my life has she stolen with her lie? Not that I’d ever admit that to anyone because they’d think I’d finally lost it.
“She came out of the coma after a few days. The doctor told us that this kind of reaction very rarely happens, but she was one of the unlucky ones. Her parents have paid for her care at their home since she was released from the hospital. What it comes down to is, the reaction caused her to have a major stroke. She lost the use of most of her body, apart from her right arm and neck. She permanently has a foul mouth and it takes a lot to not strangle her when I do visit on her birthday . . . She wanted a Marine husband, and got one.”
I lean forward in the chair and fight the urge to pace. Brittany had captured me as easily as a cat caught a mouse and I’d fallen for it. She was a Marine’s wife. “The only reason I’m still married to her is out of respect for my parents. I was so angry and pissed when I found out we’d all been deceived by her. I wanted to find a judge and get an annulment, but my mom stopped me. She’s a devout Catholic and wouldn’t hear anything about it, regardless of my feelings on the matter.” I run my hand through my hair and lean back—I just can’t get comfortable. “I threw myself into my service. Every assignment that came up, I took it and gained a reputation for taking the shit assignments. Pretty soon, I was gone ninety percent of the time and no one was sure if I’d make it home alive. For me, it was a way to lose myself and not be available for her or even for me. When I finally retired, I allowed time to escape me, until I met you.” I meet her gaze and won’t let her look away from me.
“You brought me back to life, Dahlia. You make me want a life that has you in it. I want to be free to be with you. I’d never ask you to have an affair with me because I want so much more, and for the first time in six years I have the courage to do something about my screwed up life. I’m prepared to do anything, if it means I get to have you in my life . . . in my bed, for a very long time.”
The energy drains from my body completely and I feel ready to go back to bed now that I’ve admitted to her about what an idiot I was back then. If I hadn’t been so damn honorable, then I wouldn’t be in this mess.
Dahlia is so quiet sitting opposite me, and I watch her swipe at the tears on her face. My heart aches.
Unable to just sit and watch her cry, I drop to my knees and crawl around the coffee table to get to her. When I’m right in front of the sofa, I stand and lift her into my arms. I turn and drop down onto the sofa I’ve just pulled her from and cuddle her close.
Dahlia wraps her arms around my neck and burrows deeper against me. She feels amazing and I don’t want to ever let her go.
After a few minutes, her tears start to slow, the sobs shaking her body lessen and then she’s quiet.
“Are you all right?” I whisper, as I gently move the hair that’s fallen into her face over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Ryder. I had no idea that was your past. I thought she might have been in prison, but I guess she is in a way. And even though you’re married in name only, that’s the reason why you haven’t done anything to move forward with me, right?”
I nod while cupping her face in my hands. “I can’t carry on the way I have been doing. I need to finally get the balls to do something for myself for a change.”
“Won’t that cause problems with both your families? And will she agree to a divorce?” Dahlia bites her top lip, which always drives me crazy, as she worries about everyone but herself.
Getting a boner right now would be damn inconvenient, so with that thought it mind, I use my thumb and caress along her bottom lip before moving to the top to gently pull it from between her teeth.
Dahlia inhales sharply. I quickly glance into her eyes and meet her lust filled gaze.
You can’t follow through until you’re free and clear—it’s unfair.
I pull her against my chest so I can’t see her while I try to get us back on track. I’m just unsure what else I can say to assure her that I’m serious about being with her. The last thing I want is for her to think I’m bullshitting her with what I think she wants to hear.
“Are you serious about wanting to be with me? Because I gotta tell you that everyone else in my life couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”
Swallowing down my sorrow for her, I hold her tight. “You’ve no idea how much I want to keep you forever, and I’m going to do everything I can to make it happen.” I kiss her on the top of her head. “You’re mine, baby. I’m not going to lose you.”
What if she doesn’t want you? She hasn’t said one way or the other.
My insecurity whispers in my head and I can’t help but feel them crushing down on me, especially with her staying quiet. Have I totally screwed this up? I’m not asking her to be the other woman. I just know that I’ve lived apart from Brittany for six years, which is way over the minimum separation limit to be granted a divorce, so it shouldn’t take too long to become free.
No doubt my mom will have plenty to say about my final decision, although she didn’t seem her usual religious self when she was here yesterday. That could be a good thing, but it could also mean the shit’s about to hit the fan.
I love my family and they’ve always been there to support me right from the start. The biggest problem is that we’ve never seen eye to eye about Brittany and what I should do.
If I know I have Dahlia waiting for me, then I can get through anything. I just need Dahlia to realize how much I need her, and that I have no intention of letting her go. She holds my heart and as soon as I’m free to do so, I’m going to claim my girl.
Dahlia
There isn’t anything I want to do more than trust Ryder’s words, but how can I
? I’ve been let down too many times in my life to place my trust in someone I haven’t known long. It’s even hard for me to trust people that I’ve known for years. Ryder has my heart, and I’m not sure how he managed to get it when no one has in the past. He’s there to stay as well. That’s one thing I do know. In the end, I don’t think I have any choice but to trust him because the alternative—leaving Ryder—is unacceptable.
I’m sure I should be asking him questions, but nothing will form in my head. Everything is jumbled.
With Ryder holding me close, I can’t see his face but I feel the slight shake in his hands as he gently rubs up and down my back. I feel for him, and want to reassure him that I’m going to be with him every step of the way. But how am I going to manage to do that when I’m the reason he’s finally going to be getting a divorce? His family, and hers, will know that as well, which doesn’t sit too well with me. I don’t want to be the cause of a divorce, no matter the background.
As Ryder slides his fingers into my long hair, he gently massages my scalp, keeping me against him. In his arms, I feel as though there isn’t anything to worry about, and that we only have the other to think about—that’s my wish, anyway.
I kiss his chest and raise my head. All the light has gone out of his eyes when I finally meet his gaze. Tears form in mine at the loss I see in his. Because of my silence, does he think I’m going to walk away now that I know the truth? It’s what I should do . . . but I don’t have the strength.
With slight movement, I straddle him and wrap my arms around his neck, holding him tight. A few seconds later, I feel him return my embrace.
I tongue his earlobe and feel him shiver beneath me. “I’m not going anywhere, Ryder. I should, but I can’t. You’re more than a friend to me. You know that, right?”
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