by Brea Viragh
He hung his head. “Isabel, let me get some clothes on and we can sit and talk through this. It should have never happened.” This time there was no dissembling, no subterfuge.
The crackle and hiss of fury crashed over me and it was all I could do not to lash out. He wanted me to act like an adult? Well, by golly, I was old enough to rent a steamroller and run him over with it. “If you think I’m staying another minute with you, then you must be insane. No, I can already see you’re crazy. You cheated on me with this…thing.” I gestured to Leda. “Unbelievable. Goodbye.”
“Wait!” Duncan and Leda shared a look as she hurried to finish dressing. “We can go someplace else and I can explain.”
I shot him the finger. “Explain this, asshole. Your common sense must have left the building with your decency.”
Spinning on my heel, I left them both with mouths open and let the door slam behind me. I finally stirred into action as I bolted down the stairwell as fast as my legs could carry me. Eyes blurred when tears sprang to life, stinging me with all the ferocity of a swarm of bees with a vendetta.
I screamed to the sky; my pent-up energy had nowhere else to go. It wouldn’t make it better or erase what I’d seen, but it helped to get it out, to howl until my throat turned raw and my emotional pain manifested on the outside.
Lights blinked on from neighboring rooms as I strode on. My course took me across the parking lot toward my car—and then I careened into a wall of living flesh.
“Isabel, I’m here. Calm down.”
I fought against those arms, pounding my fists into his chest. “Leave me alone, August,” I gasped. “I have to be alone.”
“No, you don’t have to be alone,” he soothed. “Come on. I’ll help you.”
The persistent calm of his voice was a balm on the rage I felt. Sorrow immediately welled up to take its place and filled the hole in my chest where my heart used to reside. Hiccupping against the tidal wave of tears, I allowed him to lead me over to his car.
“Oh my God!” The moment my rear hit the seat, I was a goner. Sent through the ringer and hung out to dry. My head dropped to my hands, body shaking. “Oh my God…”
“I’m so sorry,” August stated gently. He slid into place next to me and turned the key in the ignition. The familiar scents of beeswax, wood shavings, and—of course—Irish Spring soap wrapped me in a cocoon of comfort.
I pressed my hand to my chest, where it ached worse each time I thought about what I’d witnessed. “I don’t need your sympathy. Please, drive. Get me out of here.” I sobbed, leaning my head down on the open window.
I didn’t care where we went as long as we disappeared. August obliged me, silent, and pulled the car out of the parking lot.
The miles flew by and I saw the images again and again in my head. The nightmarish scene replayed each time I closed my eyes, Duncan’s lips pressed to Leda’s and their bare chests mashed together. His hands in her hair, on her skin. The same lips that had been pressed to mine, the same hands on my skin only hours ago. Now his mood swings made sense.
“How did this happen?” I moaned, closing my eyes once more and trying to block out the memory. Logically I recognized the need to focus on now, on what came next. How to deal with this revelation. But my broken heart allowed none of that. It was still too raw.
“I don’t know,” August answered. “I’m sorry.”
“Why aren’t you more upset!” The words shrieked out of me and practically rattled the car windows.
August sighed but kept his attention on the road. “I’m more upset than you know. Though maybe not for the same reasons.”
His detachment grated on my nerves and my stomach tried to leap into my throat. August should be furious. Smashing things and demanding vengeance for his woman’s honor. He and Duncan should have had it out right then and there, instead of the two of us running away like frightened children in the night.
Several minutes later, August pulled into his driveway and put the car in park. I sat in the silence listening to the steady sobs I could not contain until the car door opened and he reached down for me.
“Come on, let’s get you inside.”
Strong hands wrapped around my arms and hoisted me up. I let him tuck me under his shoulder, leading us toward the bright lights of the house. He’d left the porch lanterns aglow, and moths and fireflies danced in the golden halos. My eyes were drawn immediately to the rustic mat at the front door, bidding all who entered a warm welcome.
He opened the door and led the way through a short corridor into the living room. We moved past well-worn furniture bordering on threadbare. I recognized several of the pieces from his childhood home.
“I’m a mess. Sorry.” I sat down on the sofa and sniffled as tears continued to stream down my cheeks. Weak. I was weak and pathetic. And deceived. Although truthfully I couldn’t help but wonder what had me more upset, the discovery itself or my own self-pity over being right.
“Just try to calm down,” August told me as he settled next to me on the sofa. “Don’t get hysterical on me.”
I pointed a finger at him. “I deserve to get hysterical! I caught my fiancé with your girlfriend, and they weren’t exactly playing chess.”
“They were playing something, all right. Let me get you some water.”
“Don’t.” I grabbed hold of his shirt to keep him in place. “Sit with me. I know the moment you leave I’ll remember them together again and I can’t face that image. Not yet.”
His callused fingers took hold of my shoulders and soothed along the taut lines of muscle. “If you want, although I think you’d feel better with something to hold.”
“Then let me hold you,” I begged.
I caught the hint of a smile as he slid his arm around me in a comforting hug, both of us drifting back into the cushions. “Relax and try not to think about it.”
“How can I not?” I moaned and snuggled closer, taking note of his eyes, nearly bruised from lack of sleep. “How could he do this to me?”
“Sometimes these things happen,” August said slowly, his thumb tracing a path along my bare skin. “I’m sorry it happened to you.”
“I want to forget. I want to pretend none of this ever happened. That everything is fine and I am not just another statistic for infidelity. Again.” The thought brought a fresh wave of misery. “Fuck, August, it happened to me again. There must be something wrong with me.”
He shushed me and gathered me close. I latched onto the lapels of his shirt, digging my head into the comforting material. Rubbing my shoulders as I sobbed against him, August spoke.
“I don’t ever want to hear you say such nonsense again. There’s nothing wrong with you. You are a warm, funny, caring woman any man would be proud to call his own. No one else stuck by me during my parents’ divorce, or through those awkward teenage rebellious years,” he reminded me. “But you did. And here we are.”
“Here we are, alone and miserable.” I snuggled into the soft fabric of his shirt and drew him closer. “You must think I’m selfish. Yes, Duncan cheated, but Leda did too. I’m sorry, Augie.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” August leaned down close. “It’s okay to feel hurt, to acknowledge the pain. And no, you aren’t selfish. You are the least selfish person I know.”
Somehow the statement brought a small smile to my lips. “Then you need to get out more.”
I expected a chuckle and was rewarded for a moment before he sobered. “We’re going to get through this.” He stared ahead with a grim expression on his face. “I know you’re hurting, and it’s understandable, but don’t think about it.”
“Easier said than done.” I glanced up into his eyes, the familiar blue and candid depths. Strain tightened the edges of his face until it took on a serious shadow, the edges of his mouth tense.
God, when had we gotten so old?
I hadn’t realized how hard I fought against aging, wishing to stay in a holding pattern until I could put my life on the r
ight track. Then and only then was it permissible to continue to grow old. Somehow along the way I’d missed the point of it all. Now my life had taken another turn yet here I was with August. Back where it began.
And even in my sorrow, something clicked into place.
The arms around me tightened their grip. “What can I do to make you feel better?” August asked.
Emotion in the depths of his eyes changed. Heated. Focused. I latched onto the feeling immediately as my stomach flipped and my breathing hitched, uncontrollable.
“You want to help me?” My voice came out a breathless whisper.
His hands stroked my hair, my back, the nape of my neck. “I do.”
We were very close to each other now, close enough I felt his breath on my skin. The last thing I saw were those eyes when his mouth lowered to mine. It began gradually, an unguent to pacify my soul as August murmured mindless words to take my mind off the pain.
The change occurred before I was aware of its birth. All thoughts of Duncan and Leda fell by the wayside as I rose to meet August, the exacting kiss erasing everything.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I’d always considered myself a rational person. A relatively down-to-earth human being despite my inability to see the brighter side of things at times and my random flights of fancy. I admit I was a bit of a pessimist; if Duncan was right about anything, it was that. I was also not the type of woman to throw myself on the nearest man because of my hurt.
Yet I did just that.
There was no pride or dignity for me in the moment, only sheer desire as August’s mouth plundered mine. My breath came in short gasps when he dragged me up onto his lap, my hands fisting in the collar of his shirt and bringing him closer still.
Something inside me came alive then, brought into existence by his touch. A spark of passion I’d somehow missed until now. I was alive. His hands, only moments ago gentle on my skin, now rose to tangle in my hair, his touch searing me.
Hold me was the only thought in my mind. It repeated on a loop until a quivering need took over and there was only August. A strong, wild, wolfish August, and my need for him. That desire filled me until I let go of everything else.
He shuddered beneath me and tightened his hold until we trembled together. I caught the strains of a desperate moan, later realizing it came from me, standing against a force far greater than myself.
The evidence of his desire tightened and filled against me and all I could do was press myself closer. Oh God, yes. I tasted him hungrily, grabbing his shoulders to steady myself, his tongue driving deeper into my mouth and his scent alluring. I drove back, our mouths moving in tandem until we were as close as two people could get. An extreme hunger stirred in my womb.
He tasted the way I knew he would, the way I recalled from our brief first encounter I’d thought was a mistake. Now I saw it as a precursor. Destiny. He was hot and male and firm. His passion and zest fed mine until his hips jerked beneath me.
I broke away, tilting my head while his teeth grazed the side of my neck. Shivers raced along my spine and I forgot how to draw air.
His hands swept down my back around to my rear, pulling me closer to him and leaving me feeling as though my body tingled. I distantly wondered if this was how people felt when having a heart attack.
I shivered when he kissed me again and twined his tongue around mine. At once, those talented fingers so adept at playing guitar found their way to my chest. I felt the cool air of evening on my bare skin when he tugged my shirt open.
“Holy fuck.” His guttural exclamation came moments before he found my nipple.
My world exploded. Colors burst behind my closed lids and burned away the image of everything except him.
August suddenly shifted his weight to his feet and rose, carrying me with him. I clung to him, my legs wrapped around his waist.
“Please,” I begged, not exactly sure what I wanted other than him. In that moment nothing mattered except August. I felt no shame at our actions, no embarrassment, no little voice telling me how wrong it was to yearn for Augie.
I looked into his eyes, smoldering with desire, and found all those things I’d lacked before. Everything I’d envied in other couples.
I found our past.
And I found our future.
He turned slightly and brought us away from the couch before slamming my back against the wall. I gasped, the breath knocked from my chest in the most amazing way. Those curls brushed against my skin as his incisors once more found their way to my breast. Every part of me was aroused, sensitive to him. Wetness pooled between my legs and I ground into him, arching my back against the sheetrock.
He grabbed my hips and hauled my body higher against his, thrusting up until he pressed against me fully.
“Please take me,” I managed to get out. Breath strangled in my lungs when his fingers pressed against my pants, above my core. The beat of my heart echoed in my ears as time stilled and held. No one in the world existed aside from us.
I expected him to rend the fabric from my body and slide his girth deep inside. Imagine my surprise when he jerked back with unsteady hands.
August leaned on the wall and shook his head. “No.”
I heard a sound like breaking glass in my head as the rest of me remained mush. “Excuse me?”
He helped me slide gently down to my feet although I still clung to him, unsteady. “This isn’t right.”
I placed my palm over the bulge in his pants, feeling the heat there and rubbing until he twitched. “It feels right to me.”
“It’s not—” He broke off with a sigh and took my wrists, holding them away from him before resting his forehead against my own. “This is a mistake. I can’t believe I’m saying this.”
The glass broke again and this time the sound of a woman howling accompanied it. “You can’t be serious, August.”
“Not a mistake, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s simply not a good idea.” He ran his hands up and down my arms once more as he fought for words. In my right mind, I would have admired his struggle to maintain control. Now I cursed it, the whole of me swollen and aching for him.
“Not a good idea?” I repeated, too horny to be annoyed yet.
He stilled against me. “It’s time to be honest.”
“What, about the fact we’ve always had this attraction for each other?” I let out a breathless laugh. “I think we’re past that point now. Although I have to admit, I never realized how fucking sexy you are.”
Any other day August would have found the expletive amusing. “It’s not the attraction, although Lord knows I’ve waited my entire life for you. To hear you say those words.”
“So what’s the problem?” I moved forward again only to have him stop me, keeping me at arms’ length. “If you’re worried about this being—”
“I haven’t been honest with you, and taking advantage like this…” He gestured toward my chest, where one breast still hung free of its confines. “It’s not right.”
I replaced the boob in its holster and looked up at him. “It is right, if we want it to be. We are two consenting adults.”
“You’re only doing this because of Duncan.” August released his hold on me, returning to sit on the couch.
Straightening, wiping my palm over my cheek, I wondered if he was right. It sure hadn’t felt like a rebound in the moment. It felt…correct. Like the final piece of whatever I’d been searching for clicked into place at long last. My rapidly beating heart had nothing to do with Duncan and everything to do with August.
“I’m not doing this because of him,” I said on an exhale. “He may have been the catalyst for this, sure, but he’s not the reason.” I smoothed my hair into a semblance of order and crossed back to him, laughing a little. “In fact, Duncan was out of sight, out of mind the moment you put your lips on mine. I was a goner.”
Looking at August now, I wanted to feel his mouth, feel his hands on me again. Wanted him to never stop touching me.
“I can’t let you go through with this, Isabel, your personal reasons notwithstanding.” He shot an inscrutable look over his shoulder to where I sat next to him. If I didn’t know any better, hadn’t almost been ravished against the wall, I’d say he was afraid to touch me now. “It would be taking advantage of you in the worst way.”
“Please enlighten me, then. Because I’m not going anywhere until we settle the matter, and I fully plan to have it settled in the next ten minutes so we can finish what we started.”
I shifted and took a seat on the ottoman directly across from him, the better to see his face.
August let out a great heaving sigh and lifted an eyebrow in one swift, ironic movement. “You are going to hate me.”
“I highly doubt it.”
“Still, you won’t like what I have to tell you.”
The tingle began low in my belly as desire shifted to dread at his words. Not again. “Go on. Get it over with.”
“You remember Brett? How you said it was my fault you two broke up because I told you he was cheating on you?”
I scowled at the change in conversation. “Brett? I really wish you wouldn’t bring him up now.”
August stared at the floor and ran tense, white-knuckled hands through his hair before settling on his neck. “It’s part of my explanation, I’m afraid. And you remember the guy before him? Travis?”
“What about him?”
I learned long ago not to assume, which didn’t help when my mind automatically reached for elucidations and explanations. Now, I knew August had a point to this conversation, though I assumed the worst despite my better judgment.
“Travis hated how I drove you to school every day because your car wouldn’t run,” he continued dryly. “Made a big stink about it, remember? He said he was jealous of all the time you spent with me and didn’t need the competition.”
“I remember, thanks. I was never more humiliated than the day he cornered me after third period and made some speech about how something fishy was going on. I laughed at him.”