Sweet Ultimatum

by Naima Simone

  “The umbilical cord had become knotted, cutting off her oxygen. They induced labor and delivered her that same day. She was so small and even then I expected to hear her cry…”

  “Stop,” Selig ordered, voice hoarse, “please, stop. Don’t do this.” He wanted to go to her, to wrap her in his arms and murmur those nonsensical words that seemed to provide comfort. Years of resentment bound him, though, keeping him rooted where he stood even as his fingers curled with the need to soothe and ease. He pictured her anguish at having to go through a delivery, knowing she wouldn’t hear her baby’s cry. He envisioned the tiny, still body he never had a chance to hold, to kiss. Grief howled from his soul and he had to swallow the sound back.

  He needed to get out of here.

  Desperation enclosed around him until he felt trapped, pummeled by emotions that came too fast and furious. He cast a quick glance at the front door, longing for the darkness on the other side.

  He shook his head. “I have to go.”

  As if sensing his struggle, Caitlin smiled, the gesture humorless. “Sure.”

  He was abandoning her, but he still spun on his heel and rushed to the front door. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t afford to. Yanking the door open, he stepped through and pulled it shut behind him. He made it to his car parked several blocks over before the first sob tore free. Slamming his fist on the steering wheel, he bowed his head. The tears burned past his eyes and tracked down his face for the loss of life they both grieved. For her suffering. And for them.

  * * * * *

  Caitlin stood at the window watching Selig disappear in the darkness. She remained there long after his shadow had been swallowed by the darker ones of the night. Weariness weighed on her shoulders until they sagged under the burden. Sighing, she finally abandoned the window and crossed the small living room to the couch. She lowered to the cushions and curled her feet under her, resting her head on the sofa’s arm.

  Reliving one of the most painful times of her life had leveled her emotions. How could she explain the guilt and shame to Selig? She couldn’t without revealing everything, including the real reason she’d left New Eden in hasty secrecy. If Nicholas had discovered her state, no pact would have protected either Selig or their baby. She had already sacrificed the man she loved, she couldn’t give up their child too. Not the only piece of him she’d retained.

  He believed she didn’t feel ashamed by her actions. Every time their baby kicked or tumbled in her belly, guilt would quickly follow the joy and fascination. Guilt over Selig not being there and never knowing about their daughter. Because she could have never revealed the truth to him, even if their daughter had lived. Revealing daughter to father would have resulted in exposing a defenseless child to Nicholas. By no means would she have done that, no matter how unfair it seemed.

  Her eyes flew open. Frowning, Caitlin straightened, lowering her feet to the floor. She hadn’t even been aware of drifting off to sleep. It took a moment, but she realized the insistent knocking at the door had awakened her. She noted the time as she passed the clock toward the front door—twelve fifteen a.m.

  “Who is it?” she called out, though she knew.

  “Selig.”

  Closing her eyes, Caitlin drew in a deep breath and released it. Opening her eyes, she turned the lock, gripped the knob and pulled the door open.

  Like a replay of earlier in the evening, he stood on the porch, staring down at her. Caitlin stepped to the side, allowing him entrance. Selig entered and waited for her to secure the door.

  “I would have been a good father.” The words burst from him in a mini eruption.

  “Yes.” Caitlin nodded as his golden gaze bored into hers. “I know.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me?” He shook his head. “The only reason I can come up with is you didn’t want me in the baby’s life like you no longer wanted me in yours.”

  His pain slapped at her. The same loathing and desperation she’d detected in his voice at the cemetery echoed in his words now. Nicholas’ ugly tale about Selig came to her. Did that have something to do with the disgust he seemed to harbor for himself? She didn’t believe the story, but maybe there existed enough elements of truth that made Selig doubt his worth and value.

  Caitlin took a hesitant step forward, drawn by his torment, and unable not to respond. She reached out to him, but at the last moment, dropped her arm not certain if he wanted her comfort. Selig caught the aborted movement, his eyes narrowing.

  “Selig—”

  “I wouldn’t have let you go through the pregnancy or losing our baby alone,” he interrupted. One moment he’d been across the room from her and in the next he burrowed his fingers in the strands of her hair at the nape of her neck, tugging her head back to meet his gaze. Lowering his head, Selig leaned his forehead to hers and his lashes lowered, hiding his anguish from her. “No matter the anger or hurt, if I had known, nothing in heaven or hell could have kept me from you. Nothing. Baby, I would have been there for you…”

  Tears pricked her eyes and love for him swelled so huge it left little room for anything else. Not fear of rejection. Not mistrust. Caitlin lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck and holding him close. No, this man in her embrace was not the man Nicholas had described. This man had a soul, a conscience, a sense of responsibility—and she loved him.

  Selig untangled his fingers from her hair and slid down her body, sinking to his knees. With a small murmur he pressed his cheek to her stomach. He clutched her to him, his embrace almost too tight. Not that she objected. She could pretend he loved her when held like this.

  “Are you okay?” He laid his lips over the place their baby had rested. The warmth of his breath soaked through the thin robe to her skin. “Were there any complications? Can you still have…?”

  “I’m fine.” Caitlin threaded her fingers through his dark waves, adoring the feel of the heavy silk. “I can still have children when I’m ready.”

  “Good, that’s good.” He sighed, once again resting his head on her abdomen. They remained there for several long moments, the quiet a peaceful haven she didn’t want to disrupt. Still…

  “Selig?”

  Selig tipped his head back, lifting his golden gaze to her, questioning.

  “You would have made a fantastic father. You will one day.”

  His lashes lowered and she felt the breath shudder from him.

  “Let me stay with you tonight.” His fingers massaged the small of her back as he watched her. “Not for sex.” He shook his head. “I just want to hold you. I couldn’t be there that night you lost our daughter, let me be here now. I need to hold you.”

  Oh, she sighed and the tears she’d been battling won. No one had held her—just wrapped their body around her and offered security and peace through the night—in so long. She slid to the floor in front of him. Closing her eyes, she laid her head on his shoulder and slipped her arms around his back. She breathed in his familiar, unique scent and the steady beat of his heart thudded against hers. She sighed once more and tightened her arms around him, trying to imprint the feel of chest and thighs on her mind as well as her body.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Two days.

  It had been two days since she’d revealed the truth about the baby to Selig.

  Two days since Selig had held her through the night.

  And she’d awakened alone.

  She’d rolled over that morning expecting to find him curled around her. The disappointment had been as if waking from one of her dreams. Only it’d been worse because she could still see the imprint on the pillow revealing where his head had rested next to hers most of the night. He’d chosen not to awaken next to her.

  Caitlin sighed and made the turn onto his street. If her mother knew what her daughter planned, she would’ve called her a hussy. Not that Caitlin could bring herself to care. She and Janet Madison possessed polar opposite ideas of happiness and security. Janet considered stability a weal
thy husband and social standing. Caitlin, on the other hand, understood stability didn’t exist. Her father’s stroke underscored that theory. Money couldn’t buy him health. Happiness meant capturing every moment possible with the person you loved, even if it proved fleeting. Security came in recognizing life could change in the bat of an eye, so the best bet was to exploit every blink.

  Which brought her here—exploiting.

  Pulling in to the driveway of Selig’s home, Caitlin’s heart lodged in her throat, butterflies the size of bats took flight in her belly and her palms prickled with perspiration like the first time she’d laid eyes on him. Of course, that had been in the seventh grade. How appropriate since she regressed to a teenage girl with a crush on the football star when around him.

  An additional carport stood behind the house. According to Maureen Richardson, refurbishing old cars had been a hobby of her husband’s. He’d had the second garage built to store them in. The cars had been sold, but the carport still stood. She followed the curve of the cement drive around back and eased the car into the converted shed. She shut the ignition off, alighted from the vehicle and exited the carport on automatic. As long as she concentrated on the actions she wouldn’t have time to rethink the rash decision to show up at Selig’s house unannounced. His car was parked out front so he was probably home. That didn’t mean he would be pleased with her surprise visit.

  He hadn’t contacted her in two days. The reason could be as complicated as dealing with the emotional fallout from her confession or as simple as needing time to himself. Both shared a common theme—he didn’t want to see her. She needed to see him though. Her time with him ticked away and she hungered to be with him. Sleeping next to him with his arms holding her to his chest and their legs tangled had been wonderful. Yet the heat had simmered beneath her skin, between her thighs. It never extinguished. It bubbled right below the surface, a constant fever. Even now, her thighs tightened against the low-level pulse in her clit and the faint quiver in her pussy at the thought of seeing him. She craved to hear the hot sex words he uttered, the raw sexuality he didn’t hide, but invited her to drown in. Last night she’d had to drag out her vibrator and try to satisfy the hunger he created. No luck. How unfair was that? He’d ruined her not only for other men, but for her vibrator too.

  The soft whisper of a sliding door caught her attention. Selig stepped through the opening onto the patio. A gentle breeze teased his hair, rippling the gray t-shirt so his hard chest muscles were delineated against the soft cloth. He stared at her, his beautiful face inscrutable. Her stride stuttered, but she kept going. He hadn’t told her to go away—yet.

  “Hi,” Caitlin greeted and suppressed the urge to wince. The last time they’d seen one another they had slept in each other’s arms after he’d learned their baby had been stillborn. And all she could come up with was “hi”? Well, damn.

  She dropped her gaze to the patio and spied his bare toes peeking out under the frayed hem of his faded blue jeans and recalled how he’d tucked them under hers while cradling her close. That fast the faint quiver in her pussy escalated to ripples at the sight of his toes. The man had sexy feet. She had it bad.

  Selig flicked a glance in the direction of the carport where she’d parked her car and closed the barn-like door behind it. His amber gaze returned to her, fixing on her face.

  “Planning on staying awhile?”

  She couldn’t be positive, but maybe his question contained a touch of laughter? She clung to the idea because it meant he wasn’t irritated over her impromptu visit.

  “If you want me.” To, she silently added, If you want me to. Shit, he had her so nervous she acted and sounded like that awkward thirteen-year-old girl. As she opened her mouth to remove her size seven foot, she caught the flare of heat in his eyes and the small flex of his jaw.

  “Always,” he stated, the tone serious enough to slam her heart against the wall of her chest. “Come on in,” he invited, reentering the house and leaving her to follow. She stepped into the great room and Selig slid the glass door shut behind her. Whirling around, she watched as he slid the lock home. Her fingers tangled together in front of her and his sharp gaze didn’t miss the edgy gesture. He crossed his arms over his chest and arched an eyebrow.

  “Nervous?”

  The automatic denial of nerves rose in her throat and stayed there. She chuckled, the sound breathless even to her own ears.

  “I feel as if I’m back at your mom’s desk waiting on you to show up after school.”

  Startled, Selig blinked. After a long moment, his lips quirked at the corners until a smile and then full-blown grin covered his face. He laughed, lowering his arms to slide his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

  “Okay, so I wasn’t expecting that.” His head tilted to the side and as his warm, jeweled gaze smiled down at her, her mouth went dry. “Why are you nervous?”

  “I should have called and not just shown up here.” She shrugged, faking nonchalance when her heart hammered away. “You hadn’t called and under the circumstances…” Her voice trailed off under his close scrutiny.

  “The circumstances,” he repeated. “Which ones would you be referring to? There are several between us.”

  “Take your pick,” she quipped, her humor ringing false. “I was referring to your plan to exorcise me from your head by…umm…by—”

  “Fucking you out of my life?” He supplied the phrase she’d stumbled over, grinning.

  “Yes.” She nodded, flushing. The word alone conjured up all sorts of images of them together—her riding him in the car, panties pushed to the side, caressing his cock. His mouth buried between her thighs, licking over her clit and stabbing deep inside her pussy. Her chest rose and fell in deep pants and liquid heat spilled onto the panel of her panties.

  Amusement fled his expression and Selig’s eyes narrowed.

  “Is that why you came here today? To get fucked?” The words sounded harsh, but the sensual delivery, the lowering of his lashes over his eyes, the softening of his lips, made it sound like an erotic promise—or offer. “What if I told you the terms have changed? I don’t want to just fuck.”

  Hell, he could ask her to swing from the chandeliers and she would agree and happily supply her panties as a harness.

  “Whatever you want.” Yeah, she was that easy with him.

  Selig chuckled and the low, sexy sound undulated through her, pooling between her thighs. “You trust me that much with your pleasure, sweetheart?”

  My pleasure, my body and my soul, she confirmed silently, for all three belonged to him.

  “Don’t you want to hear the new terms, Caitlin?” Selig moved close, his hips rolling in that loose-limbed sexual promise thing he had going on. She yanked her eyes from his hips to his vivid gaze. He pressed up close to her and his hands rose, burrowing his fingers through her hair, the blunt tips massaging her scalp. She groaned and leaned into the caress, biting her lip. “The new terms, Caitlin. Do you want hear what they are?”

  “Tell me,” she breathed, delighting in the dual caress of his touch and dark, sexy voice. Both stroked and fired her senses.

  “I don’t want to just fuck you,” he whispered over her lips. He placed a soft kiss there then to the skin below her ear. “I want to make love to you. I need more than fucking. Can you give that to me, baby?”

  He wanted that from her? She could touch him and not have to try to conceal the tenderness accompanying the lust? She could hold him to her after the passion cooled and not fear his rejection? Caitlin nodded, breathing a yes and another yes before turning her head to take his lips. Love made her bold. She thrust her tongue deep, seeking and finding the taste that belonged solely to him. He tasted like passion—dark, wild—him.

  “The bed,” Selig growled, dipping his head for another quick sample. “We haven’t made it to a bed yet.”

  Caitlin slid her palm down his chest, coming to rest over the thick erection thrusting under his zipper. She cupped him, squeezing and l
oving Selig’s groan of pleasure. “Hurry,” she pleaded.

  “Damn it,” he moaned. Snatching her hand from his cock, he enfolded it in his and hauled her down the hall toward his bedroom. Entering the large, airy room was like stepping into the past. It had been six years since she’d last seen the inside of the room. A glass door covered an entire wall, allowing sunlight to pour down on the huge, dark cherry wood bed. She skimmed the huge fireplace that would warm the room on cold nights when the breeze off the water chilled the air. Her gaze returned to Selig. He would always draw her attention and cause everything else to fade to nothing.

  Selig steered her toward the bed. The back of her thighs barely skimmed the mattress edge before his mouth covered hers, claiming it. And she did some claiming of her own, not content to simply be taken. She wanted to give him the same amount of pleasure he granted her. Threading her fingers through his dark hair, Caitlin arched into the kiss, rubbing her nipples over his chest. He groaned into her mouth and changed the slant of the kiss. He cupped her chin in the natural cradle between his thumb and forefinger and held her steady for his sexual exploration. He stole her mind with his kiss, transforming her into a creature of feeling and passion. Needing more, she grazed her nipples over the hard plane of his chest again and again, gasping as pleasure speared straight to her clit on each pass.

  Selig nipped her lip before he leaned back, and slipping his fingers under the straps of her dress, tugged the bodice down, baring her to the waist. Light blue lace covered her breasts, pushing them up for his perusal.

  “Damn, Caitlin.” He traced a fingertip over the top of her breast, just above the cup of her bra. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” He flicked her tight nipple with his thumb through the lace. Caitlin groaned and he repeated the action.

  “Please, Selig,” she pleaded, “more. I need more. Suck me.”

  In response, he bowed his head over her breasts and captured a stiff bud between his lips, drawing it deep into his mouth, lace and all. She cried out, arching into the devastating caress. He fingered the clasp between her breasts, popping the closure, but leaving the mounds covered. Satisfied with one breast, he turned to the other. His tongue lashed the nipple while his thumb continued to ply the abandoned tip. Caitlin shuddered beneath his sensual torment, loving every bit of it. She glanced down and the sight of Selig sucking at her lace-covered nipple—his cheeks hollowed and his fingers plucking at the other bead of flesh—caused a spasm to ripple through her abdomen. Caitlin bit her lip, riding the swell that signaled her nearing orgasm.