by Jessica Dale
I’d started with the forehead kiss tonight, and was now working my way down her neck to the delicious swell of her breast, blindly unbuttoning her blouse as I went.
She was working on my shirt buttons as well, as we staggered sideways in the general direction of the stairs leading to her bedroom.
I stood still for a moment, leaned down to lick and suck the tender skin just above the black lace of her bra.
And she winced.
Pulling back a little, I reached behind her and unhooked the bra. My mouth was halfway to her nipple when I stopped cold.
There was a ragged scab above the nipple and faint bruises, a sickly yellow with hints of fading purple, all over the breast.
The other breast was about the same, minus the scabs.
My erection melted away. I stepped back from her, pressure building in my chest.
“Drew.” It wasn’t a question.
She hung her head, but I could see the red flush of her cheeks.
“How could you let him do that to you?” I shoved past clenched teeth.
She grabbed for the front of my unbuttoned shirt.
I pulled the fabric out of her hands and stepped further away, then pivoted and headed for her front door.
“Jules, wait!” she called out. “Let me explain.”
I kept going, afraid of what I would do or say if I stayed.
<<>>
Erica
Again, I was sitting on my sofa and crying. In less than forty-eight hours I’d gone from two men to none. Vision blurred by tears, I rehooked my bra and buttoned my blouse.
My phone buzzed, letting me know I had a text.
I fumbled for it on the coffee table and checked the screen. Another please-forgive-me message from Drew. I deleted it without reading the whole thing.
Should I text Jules?
Pride stilled my fingers. Maybe tomorrow.
The doorbell rang. I raced for the living room, then caught myself and peeked out the curtains on the front window.
I’d been wrong about never seeing the pink florist’s van again.
I couldn’t see the face of the guy on the porch from this angle—wasn’t sure if it was the same one or not—but the end of the box sticking out under his elbow was much bigger than the normal thin box holding one red rose.
I opened the door. It was the same guy. I mumbled a thank you and took the box.
I dropped the box on the table, wrestled the lid off.
A dozen red roses. I didn’t bother to read the card, other than to confirm they were from Drew. For a tiny second, I’d hoped Jules had sent them.
I gathered up flowers and box, walked through my house to the back door and dumped the whole mess into my outside trash can.
.
A week had gone by and still nothing from Jules. Yesterday, I’d finally gotten up the nerve to send him a short text, asking him to give me a chance to explain. I’d gotten no response.
Drew, however, persisted in texting and leaving voicemail messages. There were now three boxes of red roses filling up my trash can out back.
Yes, I’d trashed the roses but I could feel myself weakening. My treacherously fickle inner voice was now lobbying for continuing the fun with Drew. That made me wet and terrified at the same time.
God, I’m sick!
I sat down at the kitchen table with my third cup of coffee and tried not to think about Jules. Unfortunately, my brain seemed to believe that the only alternative subject for rumination was Drew.
I really, really missed the sex, the hottest I’d ever had.
But as I’d told Amanda in our interminable phone conversations during the last week, I was not going to be one of those women—a woman who thought so little of herself she would stay with a man she couldn’t trust, a man who hurt her physically. Lord knew I’d stayed with enough of them who’d hurt me emotionally.
In our last conversation, Amanda had made supportive noises, but then she’d gone quiet for a few seconds. I suspected she was thinking, She doth protest too much.
But I was determined not to give in. I’d been fine before either of these men came along. In time, I would be fine again.
I thought briefly of my old therapist, whom I’d seen a few times after the big breakup with Nick. She’d helped me see how my father’s betrayal and abandonment had left me vulnerable to putting up with relationships that weren’t in my best interests.
“Not in your best interests.” Those were the words she’d used, and I’d thought them odd at the time. But now not so much. It was a simple matter of letting your brain make the decisions, not your heart, when said heart was too raw from betrayal and rejection.
I pulled over my laptop. Opening it, I signed into my email and quickly checked incoming messages. None from Drew since I’d marked his address as spam. My lips actually curled up in a smile.
I clicked on compose message and began typing.
Damn it, I was going to get the words out—the explanation that had been spinning through my head, day and night, for a week. I couldn’t control whether or not Jules read it or how he reacted to it. But I could control whether or not I got to say the damn words!
Yet another lesson from those weeks of counseling.
My phone beeped yet again, signaling another text from Drew. The screen went blank before I could delete it. The phone was out of juice.
I plugged it into its charger on the kitchen counter, while wondering if I would need to get a restraining order against Drew.
<<>>
Drew
I’d miscalculated. But I was sure I could undo the damage. I just needed to be patient. Which wasn’t my greatest strength, but I could rein myself in when necessary.
“Keep your eye on the prize,” I muttered to myself as I rang her doorbell.
The curtain in the front window fluttered.
“Erica,” I called out, “I’m not going away until you talk to me.”
Half a minute passed. I rang the bell again.
The door opened partway and she peeked out. I maintained a remorseful expression while inside I was grinning. But she was only nibbling on the bait, not hooked yet.
“Look, I just wanted to apologize. I was in a strange mood that night last week.” I put on my sincerest I-really-am-a-nice-guy face. “You don’t have to agree to see me again. I’ll understand if you don’t. But I wanted to make sure you knew I felt bad about what I did.”
She opened the door wider, but one knee and foot were still behind it.
As if that would stop me if I decided to barge in. I indulged in that fantasy for a heartbeat, again stifling the grin.
“And what exactly do you think you did wrong?”
That threw me for a second. “Let me in, would you? This is kind of an embarrassing topic to discuss on your front stoop.”
She stood her ground. “What exactly did you do wrong?”
“Not listening when you said stop.”
“Close.” She glared at me.
“Can I take you out to dinner? As friends, to apologize.”
Her expression relaxed slightly. She was thinking about it.
“Hey, I’m just a dumb guy.” I held out my hands in a helpless gesture and shrugged. “Enlighten me.”
“Where?”
“It’s a really nice place, a little ways out I-70. I doubt you’ve heard of it. It’s only been open for a couple of months.” I dropped my gaze and shuffled my feet a little.
Damn I’m good!
“I made a reservation, in case you said yes.” The plaintive note in my voice was just right.
She stepped back, opened the door all the way. “I’ll change.”
“No need. You look great, and it’s not fancy.” I didn’t want to give her time to think too much.
She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you said it was a nice place?”
“It is, but not fancy nice, great food nice. Trust me, you’ll love it.” I picked up her purse from the table by the door. “Come on. Be sp
ontaneous.” I gave her my best sexy smile.
She half-smiled back. “Oh, okay.”
Once in the car, she started in on what I’d really done wrong. “What you did was disrespectful. You can’t follow the letter of the ‘stop’ rule but then turn around and do something similar.”
I let her blather on, even though I wanted to tell the bitch to shut up.
But I knew I would have the last word.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Erica
Drew said all the right things and shot me apologetic glances as we headed to this new restaurant of his, but I wasn’t sure he truly got it.
“Let’s drop the kinky stuff completely,” he finally said. “That way, you won’t feel uncomfortable.”
That gave me pause. I was surprised by how disappointed I felt. But maybe that was the only way I would be able to trust him again.
And although I now knew I didn’t have strong feelings for this guy—he’d been a lot easier to give up than Jules was proving to be—I really didn’t want to go from feast to famine sex-wise.
Maybe Drew was the perfect man for me. Willing to take me out, show me a good time, bed me, and, uh, show me even more of a good time. But not really wanting anything else.
Wasn’t that what I wanted too, a no strings attached set-up? I told myself it was, but my chest was heavy.
My stomach gurgled. “So, how far out of town is this restaurant?”
“Not much further now. Trust me, it’s worth the drive.”
It was full dark, over an hour after we’d left my place, when Drew finally turned onto a gravel road barely wide enough for two cars to pass. Thankfully we didn’t encounter any oncoming traffic.
We went around a curve and a clearing opened in front of us. A wooden cabin stood in the middle, well lit with floodlights on the corners of the eaves.
“What’s the name of this place?” I said. “I didn’t see a sign.”
Drew put the car in park and turned slightly in the driver’s seat to face me. “Look, I’ll take you back home if you like, but hear me out. I rented this place from a friend, for the weekend.”
My empty stomach clenched uncomfortably. “I can’t stay the whole weekend, Drew!” My voice rose with a touch of panic. “I have things to do.”
“Okay, so we’ll go back tomorrow morning then.”
That wasn’t really the issue, it was just the first thing that popped into my head and out of my mouth. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You lied to me.”
He gave me a sheepish look. “A little white lie. I wanted to surprise you.” His eyes softened. “Let you know how truly sorry I am for upsetting you.”
I felt myself weakening. My body tingled at the thought of a whole night of hot sex. And he did seem genuinely remorseful. “I don’t have anything, no toiletries, spare underwear–”
“Sh, sh,” he raised a hand in a reassuring gesture, “I took care of all that. Everything you could possibly need is in the bathroom. And I bought you some new panties.”
I looked at him skeptically. “How did you know my size?”
He snorted and grinned. “Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m not intimately familiar with your butt.”
And with that, I laughed and my stomach relaxed. “Okay, but I do need to go home tomorrow.”
“No problem.” He opened his car door and jumped out, almost ran to the door of the cabin and put a key in the lock.
I followed at a more serene pace, taking in my surroundings. We were in the middle of dense woods. I hadn’t been paying real close attention as we’d been driving along, especially once it had gotten dark.
How far from civilization were we exactly? My stomach clenched again but I ignored it. I’d already committed to staying. If he broke his promise and got too rough again, I wouldn’t say anything. I’d wait until he’d taken me home tomorrow and then tell him we were done.
A sound strategy, I thought as I followed him through the open door of the cabin. And I’d get at least one more round of good sex out of the deal.
Inside, a table stood in the middle of a large rustic room. It was covered with a white tablecloth. Candles in brass holders and two dozen red roses in a large crystal vase adorned its center. Two place settings of white china and silverware sparkled as Drew lit the candles.
“This place has electricity,” he said, “but no central heat. Let me get the fire built up and then we can eat.”
I smiled gratefully. I was cold in my long-sleeved tee shirt and jeans. “I should’ve thought to bring a sweater.” The late March day had been balmy, but it was definitely cooling off. And out here in the boonies it was even cooler than in town.
He stepped back from the fireplace, which was now emitting crackling noises, and dusted off his hands. “Hang on. I’ll get you something.”
He went through a door I hadn’t noticed before—a bedroom, I assumed—and was back in a few seconds with a blue sweatshirt. “It’ll probably be a bit big on you.” He gave me a warm smile as he handed it to me.
The remaining tensions in my muscles relaxed. I pulled the sweatshirt on over my head—it was a little musty smelling—and then smoothed down my hair. It was indeed too big, hanging halfway down my thighs.
“You look adorable,” Drew said. He was now in a small kitchen area, stirring something in a big crockpot. It smelled delicious.
My stomach growled enthusiastically. “Thanks,” I said in response to the compliment, but I was still looking around, taking in the wooden bookshelves, loaded down with paperbacks, and the old but comfy-looking stuffed furniture.
This would be perfect if Jules was here, my rebellious inner voice commented.
I ignored the vice squeezing my heart and gave Drew a big smile. “I hope that’s ready. I’m starving.”
He grinned back and dished food into big white bowls.
We ate in silence for a few minutes. The food was delicious.
“Good to know that you can cook,” I said.
He smiled and topped off my wineglass.
I saw no reason not to imbibe. It’s not like we were going anywhere.
His glass didn’t seem to go down much, but his eyes sparkled at me over the edge of it each time he lifted it to his lips. He’d never been this attentive before. And he seemed more relaxed than usual.
I wondered briefly if he knew Jules had broken up with me. Was his newfound relaxation because he now had no competition?
I hoped that didn’t mean that he would soon lose interest. Some men were more into the chase than the prize at the end of the game.
“Done?” he asked, his wineglass halfway to his mouth.
I nodded and put down my fork. “That was great. Where’d you learn to cook?”
He shrugged. “Crockpots make it easy.”
I grinned. “We’ve got that in common.”
“Say, I’ve got chocolate mousse and whipped cream for dessert. Would you like it here...” He trailed off and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Or perhaps a bit later, in the bedroom.”
I laughed. “Definitely the latter.” My insides were already heating up.
<<>>
Drew
I knew she would tense when we went into the bedroom, and she did.
I raced over to the bed and quickly undid the red leather cuffs hanging from the brass frame. They were lined with soft pink fuzz, unlike the other pairs I had stashed in the nightstand drawer. “Sorry. I meant to put those away earlier.”
I read the indecision on her face and stifled a smile.
No, darling, you don’t get to have your cake and eat it too.
Tonight I would fuck her without the bondage elements—nice, sweet, boring sex.
As I said, I can be patient when I need to be.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jules
I read the email and immediately called Ricki. She didn’t answer. Her phone rang several times so I knew she wasn’t talking to someone else. Then it went to voicemail.
Not wanting to lea
ve what I had to say in a message, I hung up and tried again a few minutes later. Same result.
She always kept her phone with her. What was going on?
I didn’t sleep much that night, mostly stared at the ceiling of my bedroom until it went from black to gray in the predawn light.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to see her, apologize for being so quick to judge.
I went over to her house. Her little gray Mazda was there, but no one answered the doorbell.
I headed around the side of her end unit and into the backyard. I knocked on her kitchen door.
No response. Putting my hands to either side of my face, I peered through the window in the door. Lights were on inside, but no movement.
I sat down on her back step to think. Had I driven her back into Drew’s arms?
My chest tightened.
A corner of pink tissue paper caught my eye. It was hanging out from under the lid of a metal trash can nearby.
I stood, lifted the lid. The can was full of wilted red roses and florist’s paper. I dug through the flowers, pricking my fingers on the thorns, until I found a card.
Sure enough, they were from Drew. That man did not give up easily.
Feeling sick, I trudged back to my car.
I called her phone and left a message this time, apologizing and saying I really needed to talk to her. Then I texted the same message.
After a few minutes of silence, I started my car and headed slowly for home, glancing at the screen of my phone every few seconds.
It’s a wonder I didn’t drive off the road or run into somebody.
<<>>
Erica
“Ricki, wake up. Time to rise and shine, darling.”
The singsong voice penetrated my brain, refused to leave me alone. I tried to tell it to go away, but my mouth was too dry. Nothing came out.
I worked my mouth, trying to find some saliva. It felt and tasted like cotton balls. I must’ve drunk more wine than I thought last night.
I opened my eyes.
Drew leaned over me, his eyes sparkling, his mouth smiling. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
I gave him a lopsided smile and attempted to wrap my arms around his neck.
They caught halfway there.
He moved back a step and laughed. The gleam in his eyes had shifted.