Sweet Ultimatum

by Naima Simone

  Awakening hunger joined the amusement in Selig’s expression. “Yeah? I can grow it down to my ass if you want.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she snickered.

  “Now it’s my turn.” He turned, propping his shoulder on the headboard. His head tilted to the side and he studied her, waiting. She nodded even as her stomach clenched, uncertain about what he would ask. “Exactly how long had it been since you’d had sex? You said a couple of years. Was that true?”

  She stared at him, the answer hovering on her tongue, yet she was unable to say it. To admit the truth would be divulging something far more intimate, far more revealing than a length of time without a sexual partner. Taking a deep breath, she blurted the answer out before she could change her mind.

  “Six years.”

  She saw the exact moment her confession clicked. His eyes widened, his expression went blank. The breath caught in her throat as she waited for the shock to pass. The silence was deafening. Staring at his face, she noticed the spasm of emotion that crossed his face. Say something, she longed to shout.

  Selig pushed himself up, lifting a hand to stroke the back of his fingers down her cheek. His gaze, bright with hunger and a softer emotion she was too afraid to identify, gleamed. He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her forward. He met her halfway.

  Selig kissed her.

  His lips moved over hers, coaxing, tender and…loving. She closed her eyes, squelching the hope that flared in her chest. She’d take this moment, right here and cherish it. The slow, lazy exploration aroused her just as much as his torrid, erotic kisses. They were different but still devastating.

  “Why?”

  She opened her eyes, meeting his close inspection. What could she say? That she couldn’t stand to have another man touch her? That none of them were him? That she had never stopped loving him. No, she couldn’t tell him that. So she said nothing. She shrugged, looking away.

  “More secrets, baby?” He brushed her jaw with his lips, nuzzling beneath her ear. She trembled, her breath coming fast.

  “No one attracted me,” she lied. No one else existed for her.

  “Am I a selfish bastard to admit that I’m glad?” His teeth grazed her neck and she arched into the pleasure.

  “Yes.” She chuckled, breathless. She threaded her fingers through his dark, heavy waves, holding his head to her. “But I forgive you.”

  “I think you may need to punish me.” Selig rose over her, bearing her down to the bed beneath her. “I mean really give it to me.”

  She laughed, locking her heels at the small of Selig’s back. “Have you been a bad boy?”

  Selig groaned as she licked up his throat and rubbed her wet pussy over the rigid length of his cock. “Oh you have no idea.”

  * * * * *

  “You didn’t have to walk me to the door.” Caitlin smiled up at Selig. “You didn’t even have to follow me home. I would’ve been fine.”

  “I know and I know.” Selig offered her his hand and she placed her palm in his without hesitation. He helped her out of her car and slammed the door shut. As they started up the short walk to her front door, he didn’t release his grasp.

  Her heart expanded a little more.

  Selig had insisted on following her home to make sure she arrived there safely. The gesture, though unnecessary, charmed her. If there were any parts left of her soul that he hadn’t already laid claim to, they would’ve been his after tonight. Today she’d been reunited with the Selig she’d fallen in love with so long ago. Yes, he’d changed—circumstances had altered them both—but the core of him, that kind, humorous, warm core of him remained the same. As she’d told him at the cemetery, geography and time couldn’t transform the spirit.

  If Selig never confided in her about the secret that haunted him, it would be okay. She didn’t need to hear the words to know his heart. She believed in him. She loved him beyond distraction.

  “So…” Selig swung her hand, his grin teasing. They climbed the shallow porch steps and stopped in front of her door. “I believe this is where I sweat bullets and babble away in hopes of a good night kiss.”

  “A good night kiss?” Caitlin gasped in mock outrage and splayed a hand over her chest. “That’s kind of forward, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Selig nodded. He waited a couple of heartbeats before tilting his head to the side. “What about now? Is this enough time?”

  She scrunched up her face as if thinking it over, playing along. She adored this side of him. “Okay, yeah, this works.” She lifted her arms, encircled his neck and pulled his head down. Their lips met, melded and tasted. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her still while his cock ground into her stomach. She moaned into his mouth.

  “Damn.” Selig lifted his head, grazing his lips over hers one more time. “I can’t wait until our second date.”

  Laughing, Caitlin pressed another quick kiss to his mouth. Damn, had she ever been so happy, so free?

  “Go ahead and open the door,” he ordered. She removed the house key from her purse and opened her front door. She reached inside and flipped the light switch. Once light spilled from the living room, she faced Selig. He nodded, and as if unable to taste enough of her, covered her mouth in another burning, brief kiss.

  He bounded down the porch steps before turning around to stare up at her.

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Caitlin remained standing in the threshold, watching him back out of the driveway and drive off. She smiled, memories of the day wrapping around her. Selig may not have declared the words, but she knew from every touch, look and smile that if he didn’t love her, he did care. And for tonight, that was enough.

  Pivoting on her sandaled heel, she entered the house, closing the door behind her.

  She didn’t see the car parked across the street or the shadow sitting in the driver’s seat, watching.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Son of a bitch.

  The fucking bastard.

  A knock sounded at his office door and Nicholas whirled around, feeling his lip curl into a snarl.

  “What?” he barked. His secretary, the stupid mouse, cracked the door open. Her timid gaze skimmed the room, stopping somewhere over his left shoulder. Shit, all he did was fuck her mouth and she couldn’t deal, acting as if she’d been—please—raped. She’d had a simple choice. Give him head or look for another job. Providing for her three kids was her problem, not his.

  “Your one o’clock appointment is here.”

  “Cancel it.”

  “But…” she stammered.

  “I said, cancel it.” Nicholas stated through clenched teeth. He hated repeating himself.

  “Yes, sir.” She closed the door, no doubt scurrying across the waiting area to make excuses to whoever his appointment had been with. He didn’t give a fuck. They could reschedule or not come back at all. It wasn’t as if he needed their money. Thanks to his lucrative “sideline” projects, he’d earned his first million five years ago.

  He had it all. Money, prestige, a malleable wife who did any sexual act he wanted and a mistress who actually enjoyed them. What he couldn’t cajole or buy, he bullied or stole. Bottom line, any and every thing he desired came to him.

  He paced the length of the office, stopping before the window that overlooked the main street of New Eden. As if on cue, Alise Dunn and Caitlin exited the restaurant they frequented every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at eleven a.m. for lunch. He knew this because he had one of his employees keeping tabs on Caitlin. He had since she’d returned home. For months, it had been the same routine, lunch with Alise, at home with her parents or at that tacky rental cottage. No deviation except for the odd evening out with Alise.

  Just lately she’d started disappearing for several hour stretches and his man hadn’t been able to locate her. Thanks to a little late night spying, Nicholas knew why.

  He scowled at the reminder, his fingers curling into tight fists. That fu
cking Selig Richardson. Again.

  He should’ve killed him years ago. He should’ve had a bullet put right between his eyes and put the sorry motherfucker out of his misery. Selig should have never put his hands on Nicholas’ property.

  Caitlin.

  The woman who owned his soul. The whore who’d betrayed him.

  First with copying those fucking documents and blackmailing him into letting her out of their relationship. Second with Selig.

  The first one had infuriated him, but even then he hadn’t worried. He’d indulged her show of backbone, knowing he’d eventually have her again.

  But letting Selig plow the pussy that was his? Unforgiveable.

  Six years ago, Nicholas had made her get rid of him. That should have been the end of it. Yet from the look of last night, they were fucking again. Did Caitlin really think he would allow her and Selig to pick up where they’d ended it? He’d warned her and she hadn’t heeded it. Maybe she needed proof that he was a man of his word.

  He grinned, and pivoting on his heel, strode over to his desk. Sinking into the leather chair, he picked up the phone extension and pressed a button that would dial an impossible to trace number.

  When the gravel-roughened voice answered, Nicholas’ grin widened.

  “I have a job for you.”

  * * * * *

  Selig backed out the driveway, shifting the gear into “drive” and sped off down the road. As he rounded the bend taking him to the coastline, his cell phone rang. He snatched it up, pressing the answer pad with his thumb.

  “Hello.”

  “Where are you?”

  Selig grinned at Mac’s familiar rumble. “Damn, you’re such a mother hen. I’m on my way to your house now.”

  “Hmph,” Mac grunted “you’re late. I arranged for Caitlin to take Alise shopping after lunch. That leaves us with—”

  “Hours and hours,” Selig interrupted, laughing. “Relax, Mac. We have plenty of time to decorate for your little one week anniversary dinner. One week anniversary,” he snorted, turning on the coastal road. “Do you get extra special sex for being pussy-whipped?”

  “Yeah, I get whipped.”

  “Shit,” Selig groaned at Mac’s smug reply, “I sincerely hope that was a play on words.”

  Mac chuckled, the sound dark and lascivious. “Sure it was.”

  “You’re one sick bas—” Selig glanced in the rearview mirror and started, his foot tapping the brake in reflex. He uttered a curse under his breath. The dark sedan had startled him when he’d looked in the mirror. It rode his bumper, less than half a car-length separating them.

  “What?” Mac’s voice growled in his ear.

  “Hold on, Mac.” Selig eased his foot off the break and resumed his speed of thirty-five miles. He peeked in the mirror again, waiting to see if the car would zoom past him. Dangerous as hell on the two lane coastal road, but this guy was obviously impatient. “Some ass is behind me tailgating.”

  “What’s new about that?” Mac scoffed. “Don’t try to use that as an excuse for not being here within the next ten minutes.”

  “You are so suspicious,” Selig accused. “Now would I—?” He bit off another curse as the steering wheel jerked under his hand and his car swerved into the opposite lane. “What the fuck?”

  “Selig? What’s wrong?”

  “The bastard in the sedan just hit me!” Shit, he couldn’t pull over. The stretch of road didn’t have an emergency lane like an interstate. A look in his mirror showed the car had sped up as Selig did. Unease slithered through his stomach. Something wasn’t right.

  “Hey, man, you still there?”

  “Yeah, Mac. Do me a favor. Call the cops and tell them to meet me at the end of Maple View.” Selig couldn’t believe he sounded so calm when the unease had escalated to worry. The sedan bore down on his bumper again and showed no signs of slowing. His heart pounded a thick and heavy rhythm.

  “What the hell is going on?” Mac barked, anger and anxiety boosting his voice to a roar.

  Another jarring slam to the right end of the bumper and his car swerved toward the guardrail. The bottom plunged out of his stomach as the drop to the ocean below came into view. Selig dropped the phone to the car floor. It required all his concentration and strength to wrestle the car out of the slide it started to veer in to.

  This wasn’t an impatient driver and it wasn’t one with road rage. The other car’s movements were too deliberate, too controlled. At that moment, the sedan changed direction, swinging into the opposite lane to speed next to him. Selig risked a quick glance at the vehicle, but the tinted windows prevented identification of the driver.

  “Fuck this,” Selig snarled, stomping on the accelerator. His car jolted as if startled before flying forward, rushing past the other vehicle. The victory was short-lived. Once more, the sedan pulled alongside him and veered sharply into Selig’s lane. The obscene screech of metal meeting metal rent the afternoon air. By some miracle, Selig kept his car on the road, managing not to scrape the guardrail to his left. As if realizing the same, the car straightened, propelling faster next to him and Selig knew the driver was preparing to nail him again.

  The sudden and insistent blast of a car horn yanked his attention from the vehicle and to the road in front of him. Relief surged through him. Another car bore down on them in the same lane as the sedan as if they were engaged in some insane game of chicken. At the last possible minute, the sedan swerved in front of Selig, tires squealing. He noted the license plate caked in mud, concealing the tag number. Nothing else stood out about the vehicle that zoomed off into the distance, disappearing where the coastal lane forked off into the interstate. The car Selig thought of as his savior zoomed past, flipping him the bird and he couldn’t do anything but laugh. And it sounded hysterical even to him.

  As soon as he approached the fork in the road the sedan had sped past, Selig chose the direction that led toward one of New Eden’s residential neighborhoods. With shaking hands, he pulled over on Maple View. As soon as he slid the gear into park and shut off the ignition, he rested his forehead against the steering wheel. Every minute of the hit and run played through his mind like a bad movie reel.

  Selig didn’t know how long he sat there in the car. He was still seated behind the wheel when the police cruiser pulled alongside him and an SUV screeched to a halt behind his car. Doors slammed and the daze ebbed. His heart slowed its hammering and his shallow breathing deepened.

  Even then, he started at the tap on the window. Glancing up, he met the concerned gaze of the police officer. Blowing out a hard breath, Selig pulled the car door handle and pushed the door open.

  “Sir, are you okay?” the officer inquired.

  Before Selig could reply, Mac barreled in between them.

  “Selig,” he roared, “what the hell happened?”

  The incident raced through his mind, scene by scene like a car chase in an action movie. The jarring blow of bumper meeting bumper, the vertigo of staring down that steep plunge to the waves below, the screech of metal scraping metal.

  Selig glanced down, seeing the scratches and paint embedded into the right side of his car. It had been so close, so damn close.

  He tugged his eyes from the damage to meet Mac’s dark scowl.

  “I’m going to need a tow.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Caitlin slammed the gear into park and bounded from the car before it had rocked to a complete stop.

  “Selig’s had an accident.” Since Mac’s phone call to Alise, the words reverberated in her ears over and over, and each time her stomach heaved in protest.

  “Please, God let him be okay. Please.” For the first time in years Caitlin appealed to God, begging Him for the safety of the man she loved. Rushing up the front steps of Selig’s home, she couldn’t think past the moment of having him in her arms and verifying for herself that he was fine.

  Not bothering to knock on the front door, she twisted the knob, pushed and rushed past the foyer and i
nto the living room. She heard Alise arrive, the engine of her car shutting off. She’d left her friend, speeding along the streets to get to Selig, to hold him.

  “Hey.”

  Caitlin whirled around, spotting Selig in the doorway leading to the kitchen. Relief so great it weakened her knees washed through her. Frozen, she took stock of every detail from the dark, disheveled waves to the bare feet under the hem of his faded blue jeans. Except for the faint lines bracketing his unsmiling mouth, she didn’t see any obvious signs of injury.

  “Thank you, God,” she breathed and launched across the distance separating them to throw her arms around his neck and clutch him to her. “Thank God you’re all right. I thought—I thought maybe…”

  Hard arms enfolded her in a strong embrace. Selig held her tight, his face buried in her neck. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of him—every wonderful, unscathed inch of him—pressed tight to her. His lips grazed her neck and the light caress rocked her. She shivered in his embrace, squeezing him closer. Dipping her head, Caitlin sought his taste, needing the familiar flavor of him on her tongue. Selig ended her search, his lips covering hers in a tender kiss that set a sweet fire in her veins. She sighed into his mouth.

  A throat cleared behind them.

  Well, damn, she stiffened, her eyes flying open, she’d forgotten they weren’t alone. Selig lifted his head slowly, his hair sweeping her cheek, flames of desire brightening his eyes. He bent his head over her and placed one last soft kiss to her lips. Then his head whipped to the side and he glowered at Mac who waited in the kitchen entrance, two beers dangling from his fingers.

  “What?” he snapped, releasing her from his embrace, but keeping an arm around her waist and tucked close to his side.

  “I’m going to assume you two have talked,” he drawled.

  “Why do you say that?” Selig arched an eyebrow.

  Mac snorted. “Intuition.”

  “Someone care to explain what’s going on here?” Alise demanded from the entranceway. Caitlin shot her friend a look, knowing from the speculative gleam in her eyes that she referred to the kiss between her and Selig. Later for that explanation.