Then she realized that they might have thought Beth was her. If so, then they must think she’s dead—and if she was thought to be dead, then no one would be following her. Nobody’d be tracking her. Nobody’d be looking for her. She laughed gleefully at the thought of it.
She wanted to take an assessment of what she had—decide what her next move should be. She figured parking would cost four dollars, which would leave her sixteen. She’d grab something to eat, and that would leave her with about ten. Where could she go with only ten dollars and a little less than a half tank of gas?
She got out of the car and opened her trunk, periodically looking around to see if anyone was watching or walking by. She kept a gym bag there with clothes and running shoes. And cash. Hallelujah! She tore out of the parking garage, filled up the gas tank, and grabbed something to eat from a drive-thru. Next stop, Miami, and then to Spain.
“But you were the next of kin. Wouldn’t you have been contacted and questioned?” Hill asked, jarring Caitlin from her thoughts.
“They may have tried to contact me. I’ll never know. I left the country. When I finally did come back, I met Adam. The rest is history.” She looked at the time. “Speaking of Adam, I should be going. I love you, Hill. I hate leaving you. I wish we could be together forever.”
“We could. Divorce Adam, and all our problems would be solved.”
“I’ve thought about that. But I’d get nothing if I divorced him now. I have to wait until we’ve been married five years to get even just a little bit.”
“Pre-nup?”
She nodded. “It was the only way he’d believe I wasn’t after his money.”
“Were you?”
“Was I what?”
“After his money?”
“Of course not! I didn’t even know he had money until he proposed to me.”
“Okay. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Would it bother you, Hill? I mean, if I divorced him now, would it bother you that I’d have nothing?”
“No. I don’t care about that. Of course, it would be nice if you were loaded. But it’s not a deal breaker if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She looked relieved. “I love you,” she said again and kissed him. “Shower with me.”
“Okay,” he said, happy to oblige.
18
At Caitlin’s request, Hill arrived at the rear edge of the Church property at nightfall. Caitlin had left the golf cart for him so he could drive it to the bungalow unseen. As he approached, he saw her standing in the cabana, looking up to the sky, perhaps star gazing. He parked the cart and crept up behind her, startling her.
“It’s okay, it’s just me,” Hill whispered as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck.
Her fragrance was different, bolder, more seductive. He ran his hands along the front of her pelvis, inching her skirt up until her panties were exposed. The warm breeze caught her breath as his fingers roamed beneath the elastic band of her panties, pressing against her sex. Rubbing. Taunting. Feeling her wet response to his touch. Her moans were heavier than before, more alluring. She leaned back, her head against his chest, caressing his strong thighs as he grew longer, harder—desiring her, pressing himself against her.
“Hill?” Caitlin’s voice called out from behind him.
He glanced back and saw Caitlin standing there, a baffled expression on her face. Shocked, he yanked his hands from the woman he’d been unknowingly violating and turned toward Caitlin.
“Cate? I—I thought . . .” He looked at the woman, who finally turned around to face him. “Oh, shit. I’m—I . . .” He ran his hand through his hair. “Shit.”
“Aw, does that mean you don’t wanna play with me anymore?” the woman asked with a pout. “You were so scrumptious,” she said.
For a second, Hill felt a strong desire for her, but he forced that urge out of his mind. He looked at Caitlin, her bewilderment transforming into a grin, as if she were unaffected by all of this.
“Hill, this is my dear friend, Amelia Morales.”
He extended his hand to shake hers. She smiled at him in a seductive way.
“Nice to meet you, Hill,” Amelia said, staring up into Hill’s eyes, smiling seductively as she gripped his extended hand and took his finger into her mouth—the one that had rubbed her—rolling her tongue around it, smiling devilishly. “Mmm. Tasty.”
His mind had wandered to the land of ménage a trois. He found it hard to pull away from her hypnotic gaze. “Amelia, I’m so sorry,” he apologized.
“I’m not,” Amelia said, grabbing his face and cradling his chin in the web of her hand. She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him, tracing the outline of his lips with her tongue. “Delicious.”
“Amelia is passing through on her way to Spain,” Caitlin explained.
Amelia took the envelope Caitlin handed her and sighed loudly in an exaggerated fashion. “Too bad. It could’ve been so much fun.”
Hill nodded, not sure what to say. He noticed that Amelia didn’t have an accent like Caitlin. Actually, she had that very distinctive drawl of native Chicagoans.
“Amelia, Hill is the man I told you about.”
“I see what you mean, Cate. He is quite handsome.”
Was he actually blushing? What the hell?
“Well, I should get going,” Amelia said.
“It was nice to meet you, Amelia,” he said.
“The pleasure was all mine.” Amelia grinned widely.
The women hugged, kissing each other on the cheek. Hill watched Amelia saunter away, waving goodbye with the envelope.
“I’m sorry, Cate. I thought she was you. Dammit, I’ve got to be more careful.”
“Don’t worry about it. Amelia wants me to be happy. From the looks of things, she wants you to be happy, too,” she winked. “Come inside.”
“When will Adam be back?” he asked as he followed her into the bungalow.
“Tomorrow afternoon. We have all night,” she smiled. “Looks like Amelia got things started for us,” she said, glancing at the swelling in his jeans.
***
“What do you dream of, Hill?” Caitlin asked.
What did he dream of? It was an innocent question that would reveal more than he was willing to share. He hadn’t thought about his dreams since his mother died when he was sixteen. Not really. He wanted to be like his father—rich, powerful, respected . . . perhaps feared. But when his mother died, his dreams had died with her.
“I dream of you,” he said instead.
She smiled and shook her head at the same time. “No, what do you really dream of? What makes you happy?”
“I’m really happy when I don’t have to answer a lot of questions,” he said, tickling her. She laughed and flailed her legs, trying to avoid his fingers.
“Stop being silly. I’m serious, Hill. I want to know more about you. I know you’re good with your hands—in every way,” she smirked. “But what else?”
“I’m just a simple guy. I work outdoors, I drink beer, I watch sports . . . and lately, I’ve been having sex with a beautiful woman. Not really much to tell.”
She sucked her teeth. “You sound like a caveman. I know there’s more to you, but I guess I’ll have to settle for learning more as time passes.”
He was relieved. He really didn’t want to talk about himself. Actually, he didn’t want to talk at all. He just wanted to relax. One thing that being with Caitlin did for him was relax him—until she started asking questions, making him think and dig deep into himself. He didn’t want to do that. Digging deep meant opening wounds and remembering things he had worked hard to forget. It meant feeling stuff he didn’t want to feel and expressing emotions he didn’t want to deal with.
Caitlin climbed on top of him as he lay with his hands behind his head, propped up on a pillow. Her body was tight, firm, and youthful. His bottom lip between his teeth, Hill’s eyes roamed along the curves and contours of her body as if he’d just scored an orig
inal masterpiece.
“Tell me, Hill,” she said, gathering her hair into her hand and raising it off of her neck. “You look at me as if I’m the first woman you’ve ever seen. What is it that you see when you look at me? I mean. . .” she contemplated how she’d frame the question, “we all come with the same stuff. You’ve seen one of us, you’ve seen us all, right?”
“That’s a lot of questions, sweetheart.” He paused to consider if he wanted to indulge her with the answers. He ran his finger around the outline of her areola then down her stomach to her navel, watching her body shudder. He continued, “In my view, every woman is different. A woman is not just a body. I see everything you are—your scent, your crooked smile, the way you walk, the way you talk, your accent, which is very sexy to me, by the way. It’s all of that. And then, when I unwrap the package and see what lies beneath, it’s like Christmas morning,” he said, grinning from ear-to-ear, resting his hands on her waist.
“What about Amelia? You thought she was me. If we’re so different, how could you have mistaken us?”
“Is that what this is all about? You’re worried I’m attracted to your friend?”
She chuckled. “No. I’m not insecure. I’m curious. I ask a lot of questions, I know. So just answer me.”
“Answer you. Hmm . . . I was expecting you, Cate. I expected that she was you, and so I didn’t pay attention to the differences. And, by the way, you two could pass for twins.”
“Yes, we hear that a lot.” She leaned down and kissed him. “Would you like us both, Hill? Me and Amelia? At the same time?”
Hill’s eyes widened. A million images of that threesome played through his mind in fast-forward. He was sure his mouth had dropped open. What was she trying to do to him? Was this some sort of test to find out how attracted to Amelia he was? Or maybe she was into threesomes. She did seem awfully comfortable with Amelia’s advances toward him.
“I’m here with you, Cate. You’re all I want. I don’t want images of other women in my mind right now,” he said, quite pleased with his response.
And so was she.
But it was too late. The seed had already been planted, and Hill’s thoughts took over. Images of Amelia invaded his mind. Amelia and Caitlin. And as Caitlin kissed and teased him, something primal emerged from him. His eyes grew feral. His desire, base. He tossed the condom wrapper on the floor and grabbed Caitlin with an aggression she hadn’t expected, pulling her body against his. Knowing he should temper his strength, he was instead unrestrained, allowing the primal, untamed part of him to take control until he was slick and wet with her desire—feeling the sensations of her yearning drawing him into her, tightening around him, not letting go. His powerful thrusts pressed deep inside of her, gyrating, rolling, grinding—pushing until the pressure was all-consuming. He couldn’t get enough, desiring all of her.
Caitlin’s muscles tensed around him, tight and unrelenting. He bit down on her bottom lip. And when her mouth opened to his, he sucked her tongue, and then her neck, her breasts. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto her stomach as he rolled her over and rose to his knees, grabbing her, pulling her into him. She pressed her hips toward him, swerving as he thrashed his body against hers, begging him not to stop. And as her body quivered, he finally let go—his sweet release overcame him. His feral eyes tamed. His primal desire, satiated. His strength, expelled. He lay on top of her, drenched in sweat, completely drained.
19
“This mattress sucks,” Hill complained.
“I can get a new one. This was one we had stored in the basement.”
She admired his hard glistening body when he rolled over, flaccid, sweaty, and smiling after yet another rigorous romp in the bungalow.
“Mm. You’re salty,” Caitlin said, embracing Hill from behind, kissing his strong back. “Adam will be home today. He asked me to schedule a driver for this afternoon.”
Hill turned over and kissed her forehead. He appreciated the disappointment in her voice when she told him that Adam would be home.
“Sometimes, I wish he were dead,” she said as she looked away, her cheeks reddening.
“You don’t mean that,” Hill consoled. He took her into his arms, and their naked, sweat-slick bodies pressed together. He caressed the length of her hair, then cupped her face, kissing her lips tenderly.
Caitlin got up and brewed coffee in the small coffeemaker. While she did so, she made small talk about Adam and his assets and all that he had. She told Hill about how he had planned to leave everything to charity until he had met her. When the coffee finished brewing, she poured it into a mug and handed it to Hill.
“How do you know that,” Hill asked.
“He showed it to me once. I guess he was trying to impress me or something,” Caitlin explained.
“So if you divorce him, you get virtually nothing. But if he dies, you get everything?”
“I’m scared, Hill.”
“Of what?”
“Of this talk—talking about it can make things happen.”
“Talk about what?”
“Adam dying.”
“Who’s talking about Adam dying? Is he sick?”
“No,” she responded.
“Is he old or diseased?”
“No,” she said impatiently.
“Then what are you worried about? Adam isn’t going to die. The most that will happen is you’ll divorce him.”
“He’d never let me. He’d kill me first. He told me so.”
He pulled Caitlin into a hug and caressed her hair. “Nothing is going to happen to us. Nothing is going to happen to Adam. We’ll just have to figure things out as we go along. Okay?”
“We could kill him,” she said.
Hill laughed hysterically. “Ah, there’s my comedian.” He kissed her forehead.
“I’m not joking, Hill.”
He froze. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I know how we can do it, too.”
Hill was silent, still staring at her in astonishment.
“A Perfect Murder,” she said.
“The movie? You’re using a movie as a blueprint to kill your husband? Have you lost your mind, Cate?” He shook his head. “I’m not killing anybody. I’m not a murderer.”
“I’ll do it then.”
“You’ll do it? You’re not a murderer, either. Stop the crazy talk, darlin’.”
She looked away. “You’re right, Hill. I’m talking crazy. It makes me crazy when I can’t be with you. I need you. I want you. I love you, Hill.”
He hugged her and sighed. “I don’t like the idea of you belonging to someone else, either. You’re Adam’s wife, and I don’t like knowing that he’s fucking you. And I sure as hell don’t want to keep hiding and running from him like a little pussy.”
“I’m sorry, Hill, that I put you through this.”
He stared into her tearful eyes. “I don’t care if you won’t have a penny of his money. But you do. That’s very clear to me now.”
“I just want us to be happy.”
“I am happy. I’m happy when I’m with you, darlin’. And I’m even happier when you’re not talking crazy like this. We’ll work on getting you a divorce, and we’ll go from there. Okay?”
She nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. He did the same, though he was uncomfortable with the exchange they’d just had.
“Hill?”
His gaze met with hers. “Yes?”
“I bought a new toy I’ve been saving just for this moment. Wanna try it now before you have to leave?” She held up the gadget.
He loved her accent. It made everything she said sound sexy. “Okay. How does it work?”
***
On his drive home, Hill reflected on the past several weeks that he’d spent with Caitlin. He had pressed her a few times about divorcing Adam, but she insisted that she couldn’t, that there’d be dire consequences if she did. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could endure the relationship the way that it was—Caitli
n married to Adam, and Hill getting the leftovers. Yet he wasn’t ready to walk away from her. His feelings had grown too much at this point. But he knew that there was definitely a hard line drawn in the sand that he refused to cross. Still, he smiled as he recalled that little gadget she had used. He’d never felt anything like that before.
His phone chimed, jolting him out of his reverie. When Hill answered, his father was gagging and coughing. The judge sounded terrible.
“Dad, are you okay?”
“Counselor,” the judge perked up. “So good to finally reach you, son.” He coughed some more.
“Dad, you sound really bad. I’m on my way over there,” Hill said.
“No need, son. I’m okay. Just a little bout of allergies,” he said between coughs.
“I’m on my way.”
“No, Hill. I’m in Springfield. I won’t be back in. . . .” He coughed again, this time sounding like he was drowning. “I won’t be back in Chicago until next weekend. You can stop by then.”
Hill got off the phone, worried about his father and not even sure why the judge had called. He thought about calling him back but decided he’d wait until he saw him to find out what he’d wanted. He’d be sure to be at the judge’s house Saturday morning, first thing.
20
Until it happened to him, Hill hadn’t believed loving someone could play out this way. Truthfully, it was just downright stupidity on his part. He’d thought that if he just let Samantha have some space, she’d realize she had a good thing with him. But instead, she’d found someone new. Hill sat at the corner of the bar, drowning his sorrows with self-pity and cheap alcohol.
He read the text message from Perry over and over again.
Hill: Drinks?
Perry: Man, where’s your head? Today is the day. Did you forget?
Hill: What day?
Perry: Your girl’s wedding.
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