by E. Jamie
"No!” Connor slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “I refuse to accept it because I know you still love me."
Sara opened her mouth, but he cut her off.
"Tell me you don't, and I'll call you a liar!” He grabbed her by the shoulders.
Sara was silent for a while and forced herself to meet his eyes. “You're right. I do still love you, but none of that matters now—"
"How could you say it doesn't matter? It's everything."
"Please, Connor. I'm begging you. If you ever loved me, let me go. Let me live my life with Aaron. I can't betray him. I won't. The only contact you and I can ever have is through Nathan."
"You're wrong. We still have this.” He grabbed her and crushed her mouth against his.
Sara fought against him with her hands even as her mouth kissed him back. She gave a soft moan, and dug her fingers into his shoulders while his tongue rubbed against hers.
Her mind was sent spinning at the familiar taste of him. God, the memories this conjured set her body on fire. His fingers dove into her hair and held her head in place, his mouth feasting on her.
"You remember, Sara,” he said against her mouth as he continued to kiss her. “You remember what we were like together,” he stated, sucking on her lower lip. His hand strayed beneath her skirt to rub her mound.
She wanted to pull away. Sara wanted to tell him no. “Yes,” she replied. She remembered every second, every movement. They had been insatiable, unable to get enough of each other, giving up sleep many times so that they could feast on each other's bodies.
Connor slid the crotch of her white panties aside and plunged two fingers inside of her. Sara cried out at the exquisite pleasure.
"God, baby, you're so wet. You want this, sweetheart. I can feel it. I can see it in your eyes.” He locked his gaze with hers. His eyes shone in the darkness with undisguised lust. “Let me, Sara. Let me make love to you,” he whispered, breathing hard against her face while he thrust his fingers in and out of her.
She rocked her hips with his motions. Her mind told her to stop him, but his touch was short-circuiting everything that was right and turning her into a bundle of need. Nothing else mattered but the pleasure pulsing through her blood right now.
He placed his free hand around her wrist and set it down over his erection. “Feel that? Oh God, Sara, please,” he pleaded. She cupped him. His eyes met hers waiting.
With her brain clouded from pleasure, Sara stared at him. God how she loved him. Still. Always. “Not here,” she finally decided. In her heart he was still her husband just like Aaron was. Aaron and Connor both owned her heart, but Connor also owned the deepest part of her soul, that part that she had locked away when she'd made the decision to marry his best friend.
"Where?” he demanded, bringing her closer to the edge.
"Tomorrow, wherever you want.... “Sara cried out when a powerful orgasm shot through her. Spent, she stared at him while he caressed her flushed face.
Her heart slowed, and she knew she could back out and say she had just agreed because he had driven her into a frenzy, but they both knew it wasn't true. She would go to him tomorrow because she had never stopped loving him. That simple fact assured her that whatever happened was because she was following her heart.
* * * *
Isabella Castellano's house reminded Sara of Hawthorne Manor. For that reason, her dislike of the woman increased. Sara was led into the house by a seriously tanned, middle-aged butler.
"Senora Castellano is out by the pool. Please follow me.” He led her through the beautiful furnished rooms and down a pale blue-carpeted corridor. Through the den were sliding glass doors that led out to the patio. The woman was sitting at the patio table writing what Sara guessed to be a letter.
"Mrs. Dawson is here,” the man announced.
Isabella raised her head, and a small smile crept across her lips. “Thank you for coming,” she said pointing to the chair in front of her.
"I'm just here to do whatever the hell I have do to make sure you to keep your hands off my company,” Sara replied, insulted by the woman's false politeness, considering what she was trying to do to her. Sara had dealt with her fair share of sharks in this business but never someone who had tried to personally attack her and was trying to steal her company when it was hardly worth anything to anyone but Sara.
"The only way to do that is by either paying off the bank in full or by spending the next few days here with me."
"What are you talking about? I don't even know you. Not to mention that I have a house of my own, thank you."
"I don't mean move in here. I mean listen to what I have to say and then promise that you'll come visit me for the next few days. I wish it would be longer but Lorenzo, that's my husband, well, he doesn't know about you, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. In four days, he and I will be moving to France."
"Lady, you're getting on my nerves. Who the fuck are you, and what do you want with my company?” Sara shouted, frustrated.
The lady smiled at her again. “Well, to answer your first question, ‘Who the fuck am I?’ I'm your mother, Sara. Your company is the one bargaining chip I have to ensure you'll listen to what I have to say."
Sara couldn't speak. She was frozen in some place back where it was safe and the world made sense. Aaron's arms. She imagined herself buried in his arms, shutting out this woman's words. Sara moved to take the seat the woman had offered earlier, but her legs buckled too soon, and she landed on the concrete.
Isabella rose to help her to her feet.
"My mother? No, she was a ... a...” Sara slowly rose and slid onto the white-cushioned chair.
"A whore?” Isabella asked, arching a delicate dark eyebrow. “Oh yes, I was, a very long time ago. But I took your father's money and made a new life for myself. Sara McGinley died, and Isabella was born."
"How could ... I mean, I thought ... Look at you! You're sitting here in your mansion, and I had actually wondered about you, wanted to know you even though I hated you for taking my father's money. Now, now, I despise you!” She covered her mouth and shook her head. She had to get out of here. Now!
"Sara—"
"Don't say my name!” Sara yelled. “Don't you fucking say my name! You have no right! I wanted a mother. Someone who would love me no matter what because that's what real mother's do!” She was horrified by the tears filling her eyes. She didn't want to appear weak before this woman, but all the years as a child who never measured up, never being simply loved for who she was swamped her again. “But no, you pawned me off for a couple hundred thousand bucks. You didn't want me. Well, guess what? Now I don't want you."
Isabella, her face twisted in anger, grabbed her arms. “It's so easy to judge when you're on the other side isn't it? Let me tell you something, you arrogant little brat! When the only way you can put something inside your belly is to put a man inside your body, when the only future you see for yourself is an endless supply of drugs and sex and you have no idea if you'll even leave a man's room alive, when you find yourself saddled with a dirty little baby you don't want and someone offers you a way out, honey, then you can tell me what you would do."
Sara choked on a sob and Isabella clamped a hand over her mouth in shock at her words. “Oh God, Sara, I didn't mean—"
Sara jerked out of her grasp. “Don't touch me. I'm a dirty little baby, remember?” She turned and ran away from the woman who had given her life.
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Chapter Eleven
She fell sobbing into Connor's arms when he opened his front door.
Connor held her as she clutched him. “What happened? Sara, Jesus, what's got you so upset? Did something happen to Nathan?” he asked, panicked.
"No,” she wailed, shaking her head against his chest while she continued to cry.
He brought her into the house and closed the door behind them. “Baby, what is it?” he asked stroking her head.
"She said ... she called me a...” S
ara couldn't speak. She was crying too hard.
Connor tilted her chin up to look at him. “Sara, breathe, okay? Take it easy, and then tell me what happened."
He brought her toward the baby blue couch then moved one of the blue-and-grey-striped pillows aside, and waited for her to speak.
Sara tried to stop her sobs and her chest hurt from the effort. She closed her eyes and tried to return her breathing to normal.
Connor got up and pulled open the liquor cabinet to pour her a shot of scotch. “Here, drink this,” he said placing the glass in her hand.
She downed it in one gulp and trembled with the force of the alcohol burning its way down her throat. She could feel the warmth settling in her stomach, and the effect was soothing. Sara took a deep cleansing breath.
"Better?” Connor asked, placing a hand over hers.
"Much. Thank you.” She nodded.
"Ready to tell me what happened?"
"Well.” She cleared her throat. “Do you remember that woman I told you about yesterday?"
"Sure. Isabella something or other,” Connor said. “Why does she want your company? Did she tell you? Is that what's got you so upset?"
"That and more. She told me she's my mother,” Sara said as her eyes filled with tears. She lowered her head setting the glass on the maple coffee table and buried her face in her hands when the enormity of the situation swamped her yet again.
Connor's eyes widened. “I thought you told me your mother was a ... well, you know."
"She was. She reinvented herself with the help of my dad's money,” Sara said, feeling a renewed burst of anger mingle with her despair.
"Come here. Shit.” Connor wrapped his arms around her.
"She could've fought for me after, when she got rich but she didn't,” Sara said. “She said she didn't want me. She said I was a ... a ... dirty little baby she didn't want so she took my father's money. I'm a dirty little baby!” She began to cry again.
"No, Sara. No!” he exclaimed, cupping her face in his hands.
"Why didn't she want me then? Even Roger and Victoria only wanted me as long as I did what they wanted. Why don't they love me? For God's sake, what's wrong with me?” Sara cried in his arms.
"Nothing. God, baby, I want you. I love you. Nathan loves you. How could there be anything wrong with you if you made such a perfect little boy? And even though it rubs me, I know Aaron loves you."
She sniffled, pulling away. She took the tissue he offered her. “I know, but why does nobody want to claim me as a daughter?"
"Because they don't deserve you. Sara, they aren't worthy to be your parents, any of them. Something I don't understand is what does this Isabella what's-her-face want with your company?"
She wiped her cheeks and gave a bitter laugh. “She thinks if she holds that over my head then I'll listen to what she has to say."
He exhaled. “Blackmail you into listening to her. Nice,” he said, shaking his head. “Does she want forgiveness or what?"
"I don't know. God, I don't fucking care. There's no way in hell I'll ever forgive her,” Sara vowed. She suddenly looked around at the romantic setting of the room, took in the champagne in a bucket and candles on the table and the roses in small vases, and then back at Connor. “Oh, Connor, I'm so sorry. I know you wanted us to—"
"Hey, that's not important. You're in no mood to do anything, and I would never expect you to follow through in the condition you're in now."
"But—” Sara protested, feeling guilty.
He placed a kiss on her lips. “It can wait, trust me. I'm not going anywhere. You wanna go lie down? Take a nap?"
She wrapped her arms around him tight and inhaled his strong comforting scent. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear.
"I love you, too. That's the only reason I'm not ripping your clothes off and jumping you right now,” he said, leading her into his bedroom.
She let him tuck the blankets in around her, and within seconds, she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
* * * *
Sara opened her eyes to see Connor's sleeping face across from her. He lay over the blankets, fully dressed with an arm around her waist. For the first time, Sara felt something different when she looked at him. She felt everything she usually did when she was near him—love, desire, passion—but for the first time, she felt something new. Safe. She had never felt that with him. She had known he'd never let anything happen to her. She had felt happy with him, and she had trusted him with her life, but this peace in his arms was something new, and it shocked her. Her heart wasn't racing at his touch. It was just beating, strong and steady. She lifted her head and brushed his lips with hers, softly.
Connor's eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at her. “How did you sleep?"
"Why didn't you wake me? Aaron's gonna think we—"
"I called him last night,” Connor told her. “I explained you were sleeping and that nothing was going on."
"He's probably still furious,” she said, nervous.
"Maybe. You could always stay here and not go home,” Connor suggested smiling. He sat up.
Sara smiled at him. “I'm sure you'd like that. I need to explain to him what happened.” She rubbed her eyes and followed him up.
"Yeah, I know. I hate it, but I know."
"Connor, I—"
"Forget it, Sara. Last night wasn't the right time."
"I don't know if there ever will be. I don't want to hurt him. I want to be a good wife to him. I love him, but God help me, I love you, too,” Sara said, dropping her head in her hands helplessly. She couldn't do this. She couldn't be selfish like everyone around her had been. Her real mother had taken the easy way out, selling her to the highest bidder, and her parents had lied to her all her life. Sara didn't think she could stomach a deception of her own after what she'd learned.
Connor was silent for a long time before he kissed the crown of her head. “I'll drop you off if you'd like."
"I don't think it'd be such a good idea for Aaron to see you right now,” Sara pointed out, lifting her head.
Connor nodded in understanding, but she could see the disappointment in his eyes.
* * * *
Aaron was having breakfast with Nathan when Sara walked in the door. Their eyes met over Nathan's head. Sara swallowed hard. He looked so angry with her, but she could tell that he kept himself in check for Nathan's sake. Sara's guilt grew in the pit of her stomach. She knew Aaron had every right to be furious with her.
"Mommy!” Nathan squealed with delight. He slid off his chair and threw himself into her arms.
"Hey, sweetie.” She kissed the top of his blond hair.
"How come you didn't tuck me in?"
The guilt in Sara's stomach twisted further. “Uh...” She didn't know what to say.
"Mommy was working very late,” Aaron explained.
"Okay. Daddy did, and he told me a story about dragons."
"Really!” Sara exclaimed throwing Aaron a grateful look. “You lucky boy."
"Can we go to the zoo now?” Nathan asked, excited.
"Of course.” Sara smiled. She set him down on the floor. “First Mommy's gonna go change, and then we'll get you out of your pajamas."
"All right! I can pick them myself!” Nathan shouted running toward the stairs.
"As long as it's not pajamas!” Sara called after him. Aaron and Sara were now left alone.
"The kid shares his mother's obsession with clothes,” Aaron said.
"Aaron, I—"
"Not now, Sara."
"I swear to you, nothing happened."
"I said not now,” Aaron snapped. “It can wait until you get back from the zoo."
"Okay,” Sara said. “I love you.” She reached over and kissed his cheek. She felt his intake of breath, and it eased her nervousness somewhat. He was beyond furious with her, but she knew he still loved her. She clung to that. She needed him so much.
* * * *
When Sara and Nathan returned from the zoo, sh
e let him run up ahead to the house to show Aaron the stuffed lion she'd bought him. When she came out of the garage, she saw him standing in the open doorway of the house, and when she came up behind him, she could hear him yelling. “Sweetie, what happened?” She looked ahead of him, and the scene before her stole her breath.
The sound of Nathan shouting must have finally punctuated Aaron and Connor's brains because Connor held his fist over Aaron's face when he suddenly looked up and saw Nathan in the doorway.
"Shit,” Connor said, easing off Aaron.
"Why are you fighting?” Nathan screamed running and attacking Connor with his small fists.
He grabbed at Nathan to try to stop his assault.
Sara gasped once she took in the demolished living room and Connor and Aaron's bloody faces. “What the hell is going on here?"
Both men looked away guiltily.
"Answer me!” Sara screamed. Nathan began to cry. Sara tried to calm herself, and she forced a smile at her son. “Honey, why don't you go out to the backyard and play on the swings,” Sara kissed her son's tear-stained cheek.
Nathan turned to Connor and slapped at his legs. “Don't do that anymore!” he ordered turning and running from the room.
Sara waited until she heard the back door close. “How dare you? How fucking dare both of you!” She was seething.
"Sara, we didn't know he was standing there,” Aaron explained.
"I don't care! He was here, and he saw you. Damn you both! That's not even the point, whether or not Nathan was here. What the hell did you think you were doing?"
"We weren't thinking,” Aaron conceded, wiping his bloodied lip.
"That's damn right you weren't thinking. What did you think? That if you beat each other senseless, I'd choose whoever was left standing? My life is not some fucking contest!"
"You have to make a choice, Sara. We can't go on like this,” Connor insisted.
"What are you even doing here?"
Connor's eyes met Aaron's. Neither said a word.
"What? Tell me—You know what? Forget that. I don't want to know. Just get out,” Sara snapped glaring at Connor.