The Man I Can't Have (Ward #1) (Ward Duet)

by Shanora Williams

  He looks me over, eyes filled with hunger, lust, and something else that I can’t quite figure out. In only a second, he’s fully inside me again, and my back arches as I gasp, but he lifts me back up.

  “Tell me,” he commands. “Would you leave him for me? I have to know.”

  He buries himself completely, balls deep. “Marcel—I’m close. Please.” I’m pleading with him.

  “Would you leave him for me?”

  “Ugh—yes! Yes, I would leave him for you!” We lock eyes, both of us breathing raggedly. “But I can’t.”

  “Fuck that,” he grumbles, and he hammers his hips, giving me exactly what I wanted. “You know you belong to me. Fuck him.”

  He’s angry-fucking me but I don’t make him stop. It feels too good, and deep down maybe I deserve this angry-fuck. I led him on, made him want more. I caved this week, and had I not, maybe he would be better off. He would have gotten over me eventually, but no. I had to come here and make him fall even harder for me.

  He fucks me until I come, screaming his name and dragging my nails over his forearms, and then he leans forward, stealing kisses from me, parting my lips with his tongue and sucking mine until he comes too.

  “Damn, Gabby,” he groans as he comes with his mouth on my neck. “It’s too soon. You can’t go. Stay with me.”

  His words…oh, God. They hurt me. They cut me deep. I hear the brokenness in his voice, how much he wants this to continue.

  Tears creep to the corners of my eyes. He’s still on top of me, trapping me beneath his weight. I try and push him off, and when he finally moves, I slide from beneath him to stand.

  Angry tears have come out of nowhere, running down my cheeks. I’m fuming.

  I hate the situation we’re in.

  I hate my temper.

  I hate that he fell for me!

  “You knew I would have to go back, Marcel!” I scream at him. “You knew this couldn’t go on forever! You can’t say shit like that to me and expect everything to be okay in the end!”

  “Well it’s fuckin’ true, Gabby!” he barks back, pushing to a stand too. “I fuckin’ want you! I want you more than the air I’m fuckin’ breathin’ right now! Sorry if that shit offends you, but I’m a fuckin’ man, and I’m not about to lie to you or myself about how I feel! Life is too short for that shit!”

  I shake my head, turning away from him. “This was a mistake.” I rush to the bedroom and grab my bag, picking up loose pieces of my clothes off the floor and stuffing them inside it.

  He’s trailing right behind me. “A mistake?” he asks, like he can’t believe I’ve just said that.

  “Yes, it was a mistake! All of this! I never should have come here!”

  “But you did, Gabby, and we fucked the whole time, and you loved it! You loved when I made you laugh! You loved when I put my hands all over you! You loved every fuckin’ moment of it, so don’t pretend this was a mistake!”

  I’m blinded by tears, but I don’t stop packing. I go to the bathroom to get my toothbrush and other toiletries, but after I stuff them in the bag, Marcel is right beside me, grabbing my arms before I can go anywhere else.

  “Let me go!”

  “No. Not until you calm the hell down!”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down!” I’m so frustrated, and he sees it, but he doesn’t let me go. I try beating on his chest, but they’re weak attempts. He doesn’t flinch, just holds me tighter. “We can’t be together! I’m married! You knew that when you met me!”

  He doesn’t say anything. Just stands there, letting me sound stupid, which pisses me off even more.

  “Why did you have to come around, huh? My life was perfectly fine before you showed up!”

  “You hired me, Gabby!”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d come in like this! I was happily married, living a great life!”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it! You were miserable and lonely as hell! You married him for comfort and convenience, but there’s no fuckin’ passion with him! None! But for us? That shit seeps out of our pores and drips through the goddamn walls, Gabby. You burn for me, so much more than you ever would for that motherfucker, and you know it. You fucking know it.” He reels me in to his chest, swallowing me with his arms. “Why stay? Why waste your time with him when that’s not what you want?”

  “I can’t leave!”

  He grips my shoulders and pushes me back to look me in the face. “Why the hell not? What does he have on you?”

  “He doesn’t have anything on me!”

  “You act like you’re afraid of him.”

  “I’m not afraid of him.” I’m panicking all over again. I breathe rapidly, and when his grip grows limp, I snatch away and take out a dress from my bag. I pull off the nightgown and slide into the dress.

  “What does he have on you, Gabby?” His voice is demanding. He’s no longer trying to convince me to stay. He knows I’m hiding something now, but I’m not about to tell him.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He grabs me again. I try and yank away, but he’s twice my size and too damn strong. “You’re wastin’ your time with him.”

  “I’m leaving.”

  “Gabby—”

  “Let me go, Marcel! I need to get back home!”

  He blinks down at me. “If you call that a home, you really are delusional. You have more of a home in this villa than you do there.”

  I ignore him, picking up my rings and walking out of the bedroom with my bag. As I slide into my sandals hurriedly, stuffing the rings into the pocket of my dress, I say, “It was fun, but this is reality, so just deal with it.” I hike my bag on top of my shoulder then pick up my tote and go to the door.

  He chases after me with a hopeless frown. “You told me you’d leave him for me. When?”

  I look into his misty eyes long and hard. I see the anguish. I’m hurting him. Not only that, but he’s afraid to be alone again. After what I know about him and his past, I can’t blame him for that. But I can’t stay. I just…I can’t.

  I wish I could be selfish and give him everything, but this was wrong from the start. From the moment I hired him, and our eyes connected, I knew he would be trouble, but I let him stick around anyway.

  “If my circumstances were different, and leaving was simple, I would leave him for you, Marcel, but unfortunately, they’re not.” Another tear skids down my cheek as I step toward him. I reach up to cup a hand around the back of his neck, bringing his head down to kiss his cheek. Then I kiss his lips, and he kisses me back, but this isn’t like the other kisses that filled me with hope and pleasure.

  This one fills me with nothing but dread, because I know that once our lips part and I walk out that door, I won’t see him again. I can’t. Kyle is…he would…ugh.

  Our lips part, and I step back, pressing my lips before turning for the door. I grab the handle and open it, but before I go, I say, “You told me last night that you were falling for me.” He stares at me, confused. Broken. All because of me. “Well, I’ve fallen for you too, Marcel. I really, really like you.” I huff and shrug, blinded by tears now. “I wish things were different for us. I really do.”

  “Gabby,” he calls again, reaching for my hand. I look down at his tan hand in mine. I love how masculine they are. They’re not too rough, not too soft. I squeeze his hand. My eyes shift up to his again, and he sighs, defeated.

  He knows this has to happen, whether we want it to or not. I can’t stay here forever, and we’ve only just met. Yes, it seems like we’ve known each other for a lifetime, but that’s not the reality of this situation. I’ve known Kyle for years, and Marcel for only three months. I’m glad he’s not fighting me on it anymore.

  “Take care of Callie,” he murmurs.

  “I will.” I squeeze his hand again. He squeezes it back.

  We linger.

  Breathe.

  More tears threaten to escape me. He steps forward to cradle the back of my head, reeli
ng me back in for another kiss.

  Our final, final kiss.

  This one brings way too many emotions out of me. There isn’t just the sadness and hopelessness I felt before, but a fleeting spark of joy and relief.

  He’s a dream come true, Marcel. He’s not perfect, but after spending these days with him, I realize how romantic he can be without even trying. How selfless he is, despite his rough background. He’s exactly the kind of man who would have stolen my heart, and had I not met Kyle, I would have let him take it.

  But had I not met Kyle, I never would have moved to Hilton Head. Never would have been in that house with a yard that Marcel landscaped. I never would have even met Marcel. I don’t know if he’s a life lesson, a stumbling block, or something much more…but I know we’re not meant to last.

  So, I finally pull away. Completely away.

  “Take care of yourself, Marcel,” I murmur, stepping back.

  He doesn’t say anything. With lips pink and swollen and eyes as wet and blue as the ocean behind him, he watches me go.

  I would love for him to walk me to my car, but that will only make this situation harder. Right now, we must part ways…even if the act alone crushes both of us to pieces. But damn, walking away is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life.

  FORTY-FOUR

  MARCEL

  I SAW my sister die right in front of my eyes, and that nearly destroyed me.

  When the cops knocked on the door of my momma’s house and told me my mother had died, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  When my mother told me my father was no longer with us, I didn’t know how to take it, nor did I know how to handle seeing his frail body and bald head on his sick bed.

  With Gabby going, there is that same grief, almost similar to when I lost my mother, sister, and even my father. I can’t explain it, but it lingers, and I’m left wondering why I’m the one who has to deal with this kind of pain.

  I constantly ask myself, “whose sins am I paying for?” Yes, I’ve done a lot of fucked up things, but deep down I know I’m a good man. I work hard. I’m respectful. I’m dedicated…

  But you fell for a married woman.

  Perhaps that’s why I’m being punished.

  Gabby is on the elevator now, and as she boards. I hope she’ll look up to find me still watching by the door of the villa we shared.

  She peers up beneath her damp eyelashes, but she doesn’t smile. She just swipes the tears away and presses a button on the inside, and the doors close instantly.

  She’s gone, and my heartbeat shifts to a slower rhythm. I go back into the room, slamming the door behind me. I’m standing near the kitchen, staring at the porcelain figurines on the counter above the sink, my chest heaving as I breathe raggedly. The longer I stare at them, the angrier I get.

  “Goddamn it!” I shout as I knock them down, sending pieces cascading across the floor. I grab one of the chairs at the dining table and shove it forward, nearly cracking the spine of it as it hits the wooden table.

  They’ll charge me for the damage. I don’t give a fuck. I head for the bedroom and sit on the edge of the mattress, dropping my face in my palms, fighting whatever the fuck this is I feel for her.

  I have no right to want her to stay. She’s married, and she made a vow to another man, but damn how I wish that man was me.

  As I pack, I can’t get her out of my head.

  Her smile.

  Her giggle that’s so damn cute it’s contagious.

  Her body and how perfectly she wraps around me.

  Check-out is in an hour, but I decide to head out earlier. As I do one final sweep, and make sure to pick up the pieces of that damn figurine, I spot something shiny on the nightstand in the room. It’s her wedding band.

  As I hold it between my fingers, I start to think she left it on purpose, as a means for me to come see her again, but she wouldn’t do that. She most likely didn’t grab both when she went for them, as upset as she was.

  I pick it up and tuck it into my pocket, then look around the room again. Nothing’s left here. Without her, this place isn’t the same.

  When I’m inside my truck, driving home, the truth really sets in for me.

  I swore I wouldn’t let anything get to me—not her touch, her need, or her body. But it did. All of it did, and I’ll never be able to let it go. I didn’t just fall for Gabrielle Moore this weekend.

  I fell in love with her, and that truth cracks me open, leaving me vulnerable and raw with nothing but need.

  For the first time in my life, I’ve fallen in love—in love with a woman that I most likely wouldn’t deserve, even if she weren’t already taken.

  How can any man survive knowing that sad truth?

  That he fell in love with a woman he can’t even have?

  FORTY-FIVE

  GABBY

  MY MUSIC IS BLASTING on the drive home.

  I’m doing whatever it takes not to think about Marcel, but even as Kings of Leon spill through my car speakers, there’s no escaping the thought of him. He’s been inside me, wrapped all around me. I can still smell his soap. It’s like his hands have left invisible prints on my body, as well as his cock. Not even time will help me escape the reminder of him.

  Months ago, I remember thinking something was missing in my life. Well, I no longer think it’s something. It was someone. It was him all along.

  “God,” I groan, as a single tear slides down my cheek. I swipe it away as I pull into Venice Heights and park in front of Meredith’s house first so I can pick Callie up.

  On the way up, I dig into my pocket and notice that I only grabbed my engagement ring and not my wedding band. “Damn it!” I hiss before getting to Meredith’s door. The last thing I want to see is the look on Marcel’s face after he watched me walk away. I won’t be able to bear that guilt, but I’ll need my ring eventually, before Kyle notices that it’s gone.

  “Hey!” Meredith squeals when she sees me. Callie is right on her heels, and she starts yapping, rushing to my feet.

  “Hey!” I chime, picking Callie up. “Was she good?”

  “Oh, she was fine! You know I love having her!”

  “Good!”

  “Let me go grab her stuff for you.” It takes no time for Meredith to return with Callie’s things.

  “Did you enjoy your getaway?” she asks, walking by my side to get to the car.

  I nod and force a smile, putting Callie on the passenger seat and then closing the door. “I did. Thanks for asking.” I help her put the stuff in my trunk and then close it.

  “That’s great. It’s always good to have that me-time. You know, I was going to see if Kyle wanted Callie at the house with him since he was back, but then I remembered you saying he wasn’t a fan of having her around, so I changed my mind.” She laughs but my heart drops to my stomach.

  What the hell did she just say? “W-what?”

  She looks at me and is hesitant to respond this time. “Well, I saw Kyle was home, so I was thinking about asking if he’d wanted her with him. I saw him pulling into his driveway last night when I was giving Callie a walk…but I figured if he wanted her he would have come for her, right?” No, he wouldn’t have, because he has no idea I even left her with you!

  Oh my God. No. No, no, no! He can’t be back already!

  “Are you okay, honey?” She puts a hand on my shoulder, brows dipping with concern. “You don’t look so well.”

  “I—I’m fine. Just didn’t realize he’d be back so soon.” I pat her hand and then walk around my car to open my door. “Thank you for watching her! Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

  “Oh, it was my pleasure!” She waves and tells me she’ll see me later, and I jump behind the wheel, putting the car in reverse and then turning into my driveway. Sure enough, Kyle’s BMW is parked right out in the open, like it always is when he’s home.

  My heart is beating so hard I swear it’s going to rip right out of my chest. With sha
ky hands, I push out of the car, trying to think of a million excuses I can tell him as to why I wasn’t home last night—or even the nights before.

  If he was home, what was with the text he sent this morning? If he’s been home, why would he send that? Was he testing me? What if Meredith only saw him last night but he’s been home for days?

  Oh, God. I’m going to be sick.

  As I take Callie out, she barks, looking ahead, toward our porch. I look with her and Kyle is standing in front of the door, head tilted, and one brow cocked.

  “Hey!” I try to say with way too much enthusiasm and curiosity. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow night!”

  “Conferences ended early.” His tone is dry. Casual. I can’t read it.

  He looks me over with narrowed eyes. I ignore his scrutinizing gaze. He knows something, but I won’t feed into it, so I carry Callie up the stoop so we can get inside. He blocks the door.

  “What are you doing?” I laugh nervously.

  He looks down at me, his face tighter, a grimace in full form. Then he digs into his back pocket, holding up a business card. As he switches it between his fingers, I spot the name Marcel Ward in big, bold print. This time, I really do think my heart is going to jump out of my body somehow.

  I can’t think.

  Can’t move.

  “Why do you have that card—”

  “Shut the fuck up and get in the house, Gabby.” When he speaks in my face, it’s then that I smell the alcohol on his breath. He reeks of it. It’s too early to drink, but I don’t say that because his tone catches me completely off guard.

  He steps to the side, glaring at me, waiting for me to go. I walk in, placing Callie down. She scampers off, sniffing around, glad to be home. At least someone is.

  I watch her rush to the double doors in the kitchen, already wanting to go outside, then I turn and start to ask Kyle what’s going on, but the door slams behind him and then his hand is locking around my throat. I claw at his arm and try to yell, but I can’t. I can hardly breathe—he’s crushing my windpipe. He backs me all the way up until my back slams into the nearest wall.