Built for Pleasure

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Built for Pleasure Page 68

by Sarah J. Brooks


  “All I want is someone to trust, Colt. That’s it.”

  I felt cold inside as I stared at the wreckage that was the woman I loved. “It was him that made you this way, wasn’t it? Carrie’s father.”

  She froze and then began to cry, nodding. I handed her tissues and held her. I wanted her to get it all out.

  “I’m not going to ask you about it because that’s your past. You are my future. I want you to marry me, Gwen. Come here and live with me, you and Carrie. We’ll stay here in Brookfield—hell, I’m sort of starting to like the little place. Let me look after the both of you. I don’t need to work, except if I get bored and somehow I don’t think life around you could be boring.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, I will marry you.”

  “Oh, my god, Gwen, you’re not even going to put up an argument? I love you, and I don’t want to question this, but what turned you around? A moment ago, you came in here accusing me of vandalism, terrorism and I don’t know what else. What changed your mind?”

  “Because, I love you, too. I knew it the moment I walked in here and saw you. It was like we’d never been apart. I’ve missed you so much and even though I thought those horrible things about you, it never made me stop loving you. I figure that’s a good start to get through a marriage.”

  I pulled her against me and hugged her so tightly she began pounding my back to release her. “Can’t… breathe…” she gasped, and I kissed her.

  “Let me give you a little mouth-to-mouth.”

  She nodded, but I reached over and lifted her up, against me and took her down the hall to my bedroom.

  “My sweet Juliet. I had the costume made for you especially.”

  “I thought the colors were a perfect match,” she smiled.

  I set her down and reached behind her and began unbraiding her hair, laying the tiara on the nightstand. “I want to see you naked,” I whispered, and she nodded and began removing her clothes.

  When she finally stood before me in all her glory, I couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful. She came toward me and began unbuttoning my shirt, pulling the tail out of my pants and then undid my belt. A few, swift hand movements and my clothes were in a puddle on the floor with her gown. We stood naked against one another, man against woman.

  I reached forward and touched her breast, weighing it in my hands. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

  “You can tell me again,” she allowed.

  “You are beautiful, my sweet Gwennie. I’ve been waiting for you all my life without knowing it. Since the moment I met you, you’ve been like a tune in my head I can’t forget. I try to put you out of my mind, but you’re always there.”

  I pushed her smoothly against the comforter and pushed her legs wide. I took her then, without preamble, without preparation, and without guilt. She had been mine for so long, I just wanted to finally claim her. I think she knew that because she became instantly pliable, receiving my thrusts and matching me, rhythm to rhythm.

  There was a sweetness to our lovemaking. It was not sexual teasing or dominating roughness. We were reuniting what shouldn’t have ever been separated—a recombination of spirits. We let our bodies celebrate the feel of one another, taking our time and letting skin excite skin. At one point, I stopped and pulled her hard against me. “Swear to me you won’t leave again,” I ordered her.

  “I swear.”

  “Never?”

  “Never, ever.”

  I thrust hard then, finding her depth and driving into her with all the frustration and longing I’d felt for her. She answered me with her body and soon, the crest was upon us and the liquid fire spread through our bodies. I held her against my chest, not wanting to let go because I feared she’d run off again.

  We lay there a very long time. “I have to go,” she said, her head popping up. “Carrie.”

  “All taken care of. She’s staying with Peter and Kathy at the cottage here on the estate. She’s fine.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but I saw the decision to trust me come into her eyes. She nodded, laid her head back on my chest and drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 24

  Gwen

  There was a pounding noise and I pushed away the deep, dreamless sleep to find its source. I felt Colt move on the bed next to me. “What is it?” I rolled over to ask.

  He sat up, pulling on his pants. I grabbed the blankets to cover myself and watched as he went to the door and opened it. There stood a man in uniform.

  “Mr. Marshall, we need you to come with us. There’s a fire at your factory. People are hurt. Come on.”

  Colt looked over his shoulder and bent to grab his shirt and socks. “Gwen, I’m going to need Peter to go with me. I’ll send Kathy with Carrie up here to the house. You stay put, you hear?”

  I nodded and watched him leave, my heart pounding in my chest. When the men were gone, I ran to the window, hoping I could see something, but the forest surrounding the house was too dense. I quickly dressed in some sweatpants and a sweatshirt I found in Colt’s closet. I folded up the legs and sleeves, so I wouldn’t trip and ran down the stairs. Just as I arrived at the front door, there was a knock and I opened it to find Kathy, holding Carrie in her arms. “Thank you, just give her to me,” I told her.

  I looked around to get my bearings and remembered I brought my purse into Colt’s office. I quickly went up the stairs to retrieve them and came back down, still in my bare feet. “I can drop you at the cottage, but I’m going home,” I told her.

  “I’ll be okay on my own,” she said, and I swept past her and ran out into the yard to find my car. I put Carrie inside and carefully drove down the long drive but turned to the right, so I wouldn’t pass the factory. I wanted away from it all. It was all coming back to me. Colt in the defendant’s chair. Colt with that smirk on his face. Colt, with the logical explanation for everything. Had he bought Marshall Manufacturing so he could be near me, to control my life in the very town where I grew up? Now that he felt he had me, did he want to rid himself of the obligation? He thought he had me, that I would go anywhere with them. He wanted to take me back to Chicago, I just knew it. I wasn’t going anywhere. I was home.

  I put Carrie to bed at the house and told Patsy what was going on. She was shocked and wanted to go down to the company, but I told her to stay home and keep the lights off. I wanted away from it all, to not be involved. I’d gotten caught once again.

  * * *

  The fire marshal opened an investigation. He had found a pile of boxes that looked suspicious among the rubble. Although people were injured, none were hurt too seriously and they were being cared for the local hospital. The town was all abuzz, especially when it was learned that Colt’s name was not Tom Marshall, but Coulter Stillman. It surfaced that he was a multi-billionaire from Chicago who had tracked me back to my hometown. The more that was said, the further I withdrew. The accusations, the open-ended justifications—so easily created by such an intelligent man. I didn’t know what to think. I loved Colt and wanted to stand by his side. But I had to know. I had to know.

  Chapter 25

  Coulter

  The courthouse overflowed onto the lawns of the town square as the entire community gathered to “be the first to know” what happened in the courtroom. I walked through the throng with Mason and received a mixed response. Some, who were my employees, nodded respectfully, but that’s as good as it got. Others, who were only gawkers, behaved like they’d come to enjoy a good hanging and growled and shouted names.

  I didn’t see her. I was distraught. She had run again.

  It remained undetermined whether the fire was deliberately set at Marshall Manufacturing. Either way, the families of those injured had done their research and unearthed the details of my trial in Chicago. The prosecutor, seeing the opportunity to make a name for himself, filed charges in a group action against me to claim I was neglige
nt. It was the fastest action Mason had ever seen—the court docket had been cleared in favor of the expected drama, especially in light of the upcoming election for the prosecutor and the judge.

  “Might as well get it over with,” advised Mason in my office the day after the court papers arrived. “These hicks have no idea what they’re doing. There’s not even been proof it was arson! But we have to respond and clean up later. You’re as innocent as hell and the sooner that’s out, the sooner you can get down to the business of rebuilding and putting those people back to work.”

  “I really don’t care anymore,” I told him. “I’d be better off in a cell somewhere. Hell, Mason, she’s walked on me again.”

  “Look, Colt, you’ve got bigger things to worry about at the moment. She’ll be there when this is all over. Trust.”

  “Hell! What kind of trust did she have in me?”

  Our conversation turned there as Mason made a couple of calls while I sat in misery. I barely heard him as he told me he’d put some guys he knew on rooting out the background and details. I nodded as he patted me on the back on his way out the door. I couldn’t remember being that low.

  So, there I was, entering the courtroom, again, for something I’d had no part in. People with money were always targets and I sure as hell was living proof.

  Chapter 26

  Gwen

  I was on the back patio with Carrie, watching her stack plastic blocks as she sat on a blanket in the sunshine. She was innocent and pure—she was who I wanted to be again. I felt dirty, as though I’d put myself in the crosshairs of community judgment again and was found guilty. Everyone seemed to know that Colt and I had a history, and now my reputation was also on trial.

  I didn’t answer his calls because there hadn’t been any. I guess he’d finally gotten the message. I didn’t want to see him; he couldn’t be trusted. Either way, the phone remained silent and my heart was going down in a Titanic sort of way. All I could do was focus on positives, like my tiny daughter playing in the sunshine.

  Patsy came bursting through the slider, out of breath. She grabbed a folding chair and dragged it close, facing me. “He’s innocent,” she whispered excitedly, looking over her shoulder at Carrie.

  I leaned forward, my eyes wide. “What happened?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know the details, I couldn’t get a seat inside, but the word came out to everyone outside. There was no negligence because arson couldn’t be disproven. Everyone says the prosecutor got ahead of himself and pointed fingers when there was no proof of guilt. It’s over, Gwen. You can go back to him now.”

  I shook my head. “No, I can’t. I doubt he’d have me. Oh, Patsy, I’ve screwed up everything. What happened? My life used to be so simple. I had a future and it all looked so bright.”

  “Well, you’ve got Carrie, haven’t you? You wouldn’t wish her away, would you?”

  “Of course not, but Carrie aside, it all started on graduation night.”

  “Paul…” Patsy acknowledged, nodding.

  “Exactly.” In a lightning bolt of thought, I began doubting myself. Was it possible that it wasn't Colt after all? Was I fixating on him and overlooking someone else who would fit into the weird pattern of what was happening?

  “Patsy, listen..."

  "You sound still upset."

  "Yeah, you better believe it. Look, I don't want to get into all of this, because I'm not really sure what I'm dealing with, but do you have any idea when Paul has been home from the service on leave?"

  "On leave? No, not exactly, because he’s not in the Army anymore."

  "What? Paul's not in the Army?"

  "Oh no, I thought you knew that. He wasn't in there very long at all and they gave him a general discharge, I think they call it? I'm not sure what that means but it's not dishonorable and it's not honorable, either one. I guess he just didn't fit in or they didn't want him around. I don't know why. I think he's a hunk and I always have, but you knew that."

  "Patsy, have you seen him around town?"

  “Sure, all the time. I thought you'd seen him too. In fact, I guess I figured you were seeing him socially."

  "Are you serious? Do you know what that man did to me?"

  "Well, I'm not sure how to ask this, but isn't Paul Carrie's father?"

  There it was. Small town America in one sentence. I thought I had hidden things so well. I thought I was clever and that my reputation would vanish any nasty gossip, but I was so wrong. My best friend at home knew and never let on. What was I thinking? “How long have you known?”

  "Well, I guess since the beginning. As soon as I knew you were pregnant. Who else could it have been, except Paul? I thought that's the reason you went to Chicago. You wanted to get away from him."

  "Oh, my God. Here I thought I knew what I was doing, and it seems that everyone else did, too. Well, do me a favor, if you should happen to run across him, don't tell him that I'm home."

  "Oh, it's too late. He already knows."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He was the one that told me you'd come home. Not the other times, just this time. I guess he wanted me to know that he knew."

  There was a chill creeping down my spine and I felt sick to my stomach.

  Patsy’s head popped up. “I hear the doorbell. You sit tight, I’ll get it.”

  She was only gone a minute. When she came back, Colt was standing behind her. “Uh, Gwen, Mr. Stillman is here to see you. I asked him to wait out front, but… well, you see.”

  My head snapped to look up at him, towering over me like a dark tower of rage, about to explode.

  “Uh, I think Carrie needs to go to the park,” Patsy hurriedly put in, her eyes darting between me and Colt’s face. “We’ll be back after a while… uh… or… whenever,” she stuttered, gathering up Carrie and her blocks and hurrying inside.

  Colt waited until we heard Patsy’s car start up and back down the drive.

  “Sit down,” I told him, hoping to disarm the anger I saw there and also put him at my level so I didn’t have to look up at him so sharply. I knew I was delaying the inevitable. I had to hand it to him; he was holding himself in check.

  “I won’t be here long,” he said tersely, but after a moment seemed to reconsider as he took Patsy’s chair, although moving it further from me first.

  I knew I’d better get it over with. “I heard they threw the case out of court.”

  “You weren’t there.” His words were low and deadly.

  Where did the love in his eyes go? This was a Colt I’d not seen before. I’d never seen anyone with that much anger in his eyes.

  “No, you’re right, I wasn’t.”

  “You judged me guilty and ran away again, didn’t you?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I did. Colt, I was wrong. I…”

  “Save it,” he said coldly and looked away. “I’m leaving this afternoon and going back to Chicago. In a few days, I’m leaving the country—going to take the jet and keep going until you don’t matter anymore. I may never get back.”

  “Colt, no!”

  He ignored me and continued on. “I love you, Gwen, and for that reason alone, I’m going to forgive you. I know what’s behind this and I thought I could shake it from you, but you won’t stay put long enough to even give us a chance. Every opportunity you’ve had, you’ve passed judgment. Not because I was on trial, but because finding me guilty absolved you of your own.”

  His words slammed into my chest and mind with the force of a ragged sword. He’s right! Oh, my God, he’s right.

  He saw his words hit home—read the realization on my face. He slapped his hands on his knees and leaned forward, preparing to stand and leave. “Buddy will be running my companies. You know how to reach him. If you ever, and I mean ever need anything, call him.”

  I couldn’t help myself. “No credit limit on that card, huh?”

  His face screwed up into a look of angry distaste. “Why would you say something so crude? That’s not you, Gwen.”<
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  I began to cry. My shoulders shook as I began rocking back and forth in my seat. “No, no, it’s not me, Colt. And it’s never been you. You haven’t done anything to ever hurt me. You’ve only been kind and generous—looking after me and my daughter. I don’t deserve you, Colt. You’re right. I do feel guilty. I let my guard down and I got pregnant—here, in front of the whole town. I felt humiliated and I disappointed my parents. You’re right. I was punishing you for what I couldn’t change about myself.” I stood up and looked at him, my face wet and feeling weak—too weak to even stand. “You need to go, Colt Stillman. Not because I don’t want you here, but because I don’t deserve to have you stay.” I broke down again and pressed past him to go inside. I ran up the stairs to my own bedroom and threw myself on my bed. I didn’t want to hear the sound of his car leaving.

  I didn’t. What I heard instead was the sound of my bedroom door opening. It was Colt and when I felt his hand on my back, I melted. “I’m so, so sorry,” I cried, throwing my arms around his neck and burying my wet cheek against his muscled, male neck. I wanted to stay there, hiding from myself and hiding from the past.

  Colt sat still for long moments, but then he couldn’t help himself. He opened his frozen arms and wrapped me in them. His face turned, and he kissed my wet cheek, my eyes and my mouth. Colt pushed me back on the bed and held his body over mine, rigid, with one hand on either side of my head. I looked up, questioning.

  “I can’t leave you, damn it!” he rasped and pulled me against him as he rolled to the bed. “God help me, but I can’t walk away.”

  I molded myself against his hard body, wanting his strength and protection. I was lost, and he was my home.

  The cold melted between us and in its place, came the heat. Inch by inch as our clothing was peeled away, came the searing touch of one another’s skin. Colt wrapped me inside his flesh and I undulated in the sensation, trying to get as close as possible so we’d never again come apart. There was no time for the gentle teasing, the titillation that precedes the climax. Colt slid into me with a firmness that claimed me—not just my woman’s tunnel, but the core of who I was. Over and over he claimed me, each thrust stronger and longer than the previous. This time, when the coming began, it brought with it every nerve in my body, fingertips to toes. I think for a moment I actually did become a part of his body, or he a part of mine. I heard myself cry out at the peak and Colt stiffened as it overcame him as well. We held on as it rocked us, relaxing only as the wave went back out to sea.

 

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