by Cher Carson
He called the middle school where Callie was a teacher, only to be told she was in the middle of a class and could only be disturbed in the case of an emergency. Instead of leaving a message, which she would likely dismiss, he asked the receptionist when she would be taking a lunch break. With Callie, a face-to-face meeting would definitely be more productive.
Walking through the halls, students stopped to stare at him, pointing and whispering to their friends. Some of the pre-teen boys were brave enough to approach him, asking for an autograph. When they did, he asked for directions to Callie’s eighth grade classroom.
He waited just outside the door while she dismissed the class, which he realized too late was probably not the most pragmatic decision. Pandemonium ensued when some of her students caught sight of him.
Callie simply glared at him while issuing a stern warning to her students that they could make their way outside without delay or risk spending their lunch hour in detention.
She raised her hand to beckon him inside once the kids had filed out of the classroom. “Get in here before you cause a riot, Atwell.”
He grinned and extended his peace offering. A paper bag containing lasagne and garlic bread from his favorite Italian restaurant. He figured if he was going to intrude on her lunch hour, the least he could do was buy her a meal.
She rolled her eyes, trying to conceal a smile. “I’ve been dieting all week; I’m trying to lose five pounds before Jen’s wedding. But I’ve got to admit this smells heavenly, thanks.”
He tried to ignore his physical reaction to the mere mention of Jen’s impending nuptials. He was angry, frustrated, and desperate for help.
“Wanna share?” she asked, opening the plastic container as she claimed the seat behind her desk.
“No, thanks, I ordered a veal sandwich,” he said.
She withdrew the garlic bread and a bottle of water before passing the paper bag back to him. She pointed to the back of the room. “Pull up a chair.”
“Thanks.” He walked to the back of the room to retrieve the stackable chair. He and Callie had always had an easy rapport, but she was fiercely loyal to Jen, which may work against him when it came time to pump her for information about the infamous Kevin.
“So, what brings you by, Mark?” She grinned, tearing off a small piece of garlic bread. “As if I didn’t know.”
He set the chair on the opposite side of Callie’s desk. “Have you talked to Jen since Friday night?”
“You mean, did she tell me what happened?” She nodded, popping a forkful of lasagne into her mouth. “Yeah, she told me.” She closed her eyes, savoring the food. “Hmm, this is so good.”
Mark forced himself to sit down and open the foil bag containing his sandwich before asking the question burning his lips. “What did she have to say about me, about us?”
Callie chewed slowly, obviously considering his question. “You know my loyalty lies with Jen, always. If you expect me to divulge information about a private conversation I had with her, I won’t.”
Mark sighed, pushing the sandwich away. His appetite, along with his concentration, had been shot to hell the past couple of days. “I don’t expect you to betray Jen’s confidence; I know you wouldn’t do that. But you’ve gotta help me out here, give me something to go on, please.”
She tipped her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. “Why should I?”
“Because I love her,” he said quietly. “I need her in my life.”
Callie sat back, removing the cap from her bottle of water and tipping it to her lips. “For what it’s worth, I think she still has feelings for you.”
“Did she tell you that?” he asked, praying she would take pity on him and throw him a lifeline. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on like this.
“Let’s just say she’s confused.”
A glimmer of hope emerged, displacing the fear and despair he’d been feeling since he heard about Jen’s engagement. “Does that mean she’s having second thoughts about marrying this guy?”
“Why aren’t you talking to her about this?” Callie asked, taking another bite of the pasta.
“She won’t talk to me. I’ve tried everything short of ambushing her.”
Callie smiled. “Maybe that should be your next step.”
“You really think so?” he asked, leaning forward. He’d considered showing up at her apartment, but if she refused to take his calls, she wasn’t going to allow him past the security guard stationed in the lobby of her building. “What if she won’t see me?”
Callie shrugged. “You could always stop by her office. That way you’d have the element of surprise working in your favor.”
He considered that option as well, but he didn’t want to instigate an argument at her place of business. “You think that’s a good idea, under the circumstances?” He could imagine how upset she would be if her co-workers believed she was messing around with him just weeks before her wedding.
“Look, I know Jen. She’s running scared right now.”
He linked his hands behind his head, stretching his legs out in front of him. “You think she’s afraid of her feelings for me?”
“Can you blame her? She’s getting married in a few weeks and here you are stirring up all kinds of feelings she thought were dead and buried.”
“I hate that I’m doing this to her, but I can’t sit by and do nothing while she marries this guy.”
She shook her head. “I know; to tell you the truth, Trace and I aren’t too thrilled with the idea either.”
He braced his hands on his knees, leaning forward. Finally, they were getting somewhere.
“Really? Why’s that?”
She shrugged. “He’s not good enough for her. She could do better.” She smiled, her eyes raking over him. “Much better.”
He chuckled. “Thanks, I think.”
“Seriously, he’s not the right guy for her. I think he loves her, but…”
“But what?”
She closed the container, tossing her napkin in a nearby wastebasket. “I don’t trust him. I felt that way even before…” She hesitated, obviously reluctant to share too much information.
Mark respected her loyalty to her friend, but he needed to know everything he could about their relationship if he stood a chance of making inroads with her. “I know he screwed around with a stripper.”
Callie rolled her eyes. “Can you believe that? What an asshole.”
Mark smirked. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“So, you’re obviously running out of time. What’re you gonna do?”
“I was hoping you might have some advice for me.”
She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I happen to know she’s in the office until 2:00, catching up on some paperwork. If I were you, I’d pay her a little visit.”
He stood up, pushing his chair back. “Done.”
She reached across the desk to grab the cell phone he’d left there when he sat down.
“What are you doing?”
“This is the name of the restaurant Kevin manages. It wouldn’t hurt to pay him a little visit. Ask around; I’m willing to bet that stripper wasn’t the first chick he messed around with, Mark.” She passed the phone back to him. “Good luck.”
He walked around the desk and bent to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Callie.”
She grabbed his hand when he turned to walk away. “One more thing…”
“Yeah?”
“You hurt her again, and you’ll have to answer to me. Is that understood?”
Mark smiled. “I won’t screw this up. I promise.”
Jenna stared at the contract, trying to force herself to focus on the task at hand. Her client was making an offer to purchase a residential/retail building. It was her job to make sure it included all of his terms before presenting it to the other agent and his client. This deal, if it went through, represented forty thousand dollars in commission, but the single-minded determination that made her the top age
nt in her office was buried beneath thoughts of Mark and their night together.
Someone knocked on her closed door. Expecting it to be her assistant or one of her team members, she shouted, “Come on in, door’s open.”
Mark stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. His hot gaze seared her, travelling from her face to the tight black sweater dress and high black boots she wore.
She tried to slow her erratic breathing, taking shallow breaths, so as not to draw attention to her discomfort. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“We need to talk.”
He took a step closer, and suddenly the huge corner office she’d worked so hard to earn seemed no bigger than a utility closet. “I have nothing to say to you. I thought I made that clear.”
“Fine, I’ll talk. You listen.” He walked around to her side of the desk, perching his backside against the edge of the desk in front of her.
She had to slide her swivel chair back or she would be face-to-face with the bulge in the front of his designer jeans, which she had no doubt he intended. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”
He folded his arms across his chest as he stared down at her. “That’s too damn bad. You owe it to me to at least hear me out.”
She stood up, trying to shift the balance of power. Big mistake. Only inches separated them, making the temptation too great for either of them to ignore.
He grabbed her by the waist, crushing her against him as his hands moved up her back, tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck. He dipped his tongue into her open mouth, holding the back of her head in his hand as he took possession of her.
Her entire body went on high alert; every slick swipe of his tongue sending a pulse straight to her core, soaking her panties. She moaned into his mouth as he flattened his free hand against her ass, grinding his hard cock into her.
She tried to shake her head, to find the willpower to fight him off, but it was pointless. They both knew she wanted this, needed this, as much as he did.
He reached behind him to clear the desk, sitting down on it as he urged her between his powerful legs.
They were the same height when he was sitting down and she took advantage of the rare opportunity to regain some of the control. She leaned into him, forcing him further back on the desk as she claimed his mouth, thrusting her hands into his hair. It was a battle for power, for dominance, and while they both knew he would come out on top, she was savoring the struggle. She worked the buttons on his shirt, baring his hard chest.
He sucked in a breath when she pulled her dress over her head, revealing a lemon yellow strapless bra and thong. “I need to taste you,” he said, standing up to shift her body until she was perched on the edge of the desk where he’d been sitting. He spread her thighs apart and pushed her panties aside as he dropped to his knees in front of her.
“This is crazy,” she whispered, trying to reclaim the sanity he robbed her of with the slightest touch. “We can’t do this in my office, in the middle of the day.”
“I’m not gonna fuck you here,” he whispered, kissing the soft skin on her inner thighs. “I’m just going to give you a taste of what you can expect if you agree to have dinner with me tonight.”
She knew dinner was out of the question, but she needed to take the edge off before meeting with her client, and his proposal sounded so much better than sneaking into the bathroom for a quick, self-induced release.
He spread her wide, hooking her legs over his shoulders.
He glided his tongue back and forth over her swollen clit before sucking the tight bud into his mouth.
She fought the urge to cry out, biting her lip until she felt the sharp bite of pain balancing the carnal pleasure.
He worked her over thoroughly, licking her inflamed lips as he consumed her with his tongue. She dug her palms into the hard wood of the desk, riding the crest of the orgasm that threatened to tear through her. She rotated her hips, thrusting her pussy into his face as he greedily lapped at the juice trickling into his mouth.
She wanted to scream and cry out his name, but having to remain silent only added to the fierce intensity.
Her stomach clenched as her legs started to tremble. “Oh God,” she whispered. “Mark…”
He continued to devour her, relentless in his quest to give her pleasure.
She rode out the final wave, her body finally satisfied, at least temporarily.
He stood up, taking her face in his hands. He kissed her lips gently, and she tasted the tang of her own essence on his lips.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered between kisses. “I think about you all the time. When I’m playing hockey, practicing, sleeping… I can’t get you out of my head.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, battling the inner voice that told her to push him away. “I know how you feel,” she admitted. “I’ve been thinking about you, too.”
He kissed her cheek, her ear, sucking the tender lobe into his mouth. “I love you. I know you don’t believe that, but just give me the chance to prove it to you, please, baby.”
Her heart surged. There was a time when she would have given anything to hear that sweet declaration, but that was a long time ago. Her life was different now. “You know I can’t do that. It’s over. It has to be over.”
He pulled back to look her in the eye, still framing her face with his rough hands. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have made love to me the other night. You wouldn’t have let me love you now.”
She closed her eyes, shaking her head as she tried to refute his claim. “It was sex, nothing more.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “You and I both know that’s a lie, Jen. Don’t do this, don’t go back to him, sweetheart. Please, give me a chance, give us a chance. I know I can make you happy.”
She pushed against his shoulders, trying to put some distance between them. “I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?”
She said the only thing she could think of to drive him away. “Because I don’t love you. I’m sorry.”
He stared at her, as though he were trying to find the truth in her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
She sighed, running a hand through her tousled hair. “What’s it gonna take to convince you?”
He bent to pick up her dress, handing it back to her. “Let me ask you a question.”
She slipped her dress over her head, standing to straighten it. “Okay.”
“Were you ever tempted to sleep with another man while we were together?”
Of all the questions he could have asked her that was the last one she expected. He had never taken an interest in her sex life while they were dating, so why now? She could have lied to save face, but she wouldn’t. “No, why?”
He smiled, running his hands up her arms. “Doesn’t that tell you something, baby? You and I weren’t even exclusive. I’m sure you were propositioned plenty of times…”
“Dozens,” she said, resenting him for calling her out. “I’m just not that kind of girl.”
His eyes fell to her lips. “I know that.”
She sat back on the desk, trying to put some distance between them. It was getting harder to think, harder to breathe. The heady scent of his cologne was clouding her judgement, making her want to cancel her meeting and invite him back to her place so he could give her another mind-blowing orgasm.
“I have to sort this thing out with Kevin. Figure out where we go from here.”
He smiled. “Does he know you’re still in love with me?”
It would be pointless to try again to deny she still had feelings for him, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of defining them. He was trying to bully her into giving him another chance, on his terms, and it wasn’t going to happen. He had his chance with her and he squandered it.
She refused to make the mistake of trusting him again.
She checked her watch. “I have an appointment. I have to go.”
He kissed her softly. “Just so you know, I’m not giving up, Jen.” He grinned. “I intend to pull out all the stops to get you back in my bed, where you belong.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Apparently, Mark wasn’t kidding when he said he intended to pursue her. It started with flowers, and quickly progressed to theater tickets, designer purses and clothes, and finally, jewelry.
“What is it this time?” Trace asked, propping her feet up on Jen’s coffee table.
She set the small box down on the end table, trying to pretend she wasn’t curious about the contents. She’d returned everything, with handwritten notes asking him to back off, but he chose to ignore her requests.
Callie picked the box up, shaking it. “Come on, you have to at least open it.”
“Why bother?” she said, checking her make-up in the hall mirror. She, Tracey, and Callie were meeting up with a few more of her girlfriends for her bachelorette party. The same bar Mark happened to frequent with his teammates after home games. Fortunately, they didn’t have a home game tonight; not that she would mind seeing him one more time before…
“I still can’t believe it; this time next week you’ll be a married woman,” Trace said, sighing. “It just won’t be the same.”
Jenna wanted to deny their claim that things would change once she was married to Kevin, but she knew it was inevitable. They had been her lifeline for more years than she could count, but he was going to be her husband, her life partner. In theory, he was supposed to be her best friend now, but she couldn’t imagine confiding in him about her hopes and dreams for the future. He would tell her to get her head out of the clouds and set more attainable goals.
Is that what she wanted, a man who would quash her spirit? She sank down on the chair, staring at her two best friends in turn. “Am I making a huge mistake?” she whispered.
A look passed between them before Callie said, “Only you can answer that question, honey.”
“I’m asking you.” She looked at Trace, who had always been honest with her, no matter how difficult it was to hear the truth. “I’m asking both of you, please, tell me what you think I should do.”