Betrayal

by Ember Dante

  I punched the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel. “Call Parker.”

  The dial tone filled the vehicle. He answered on the fourth ring, catching it before it rolled to voice mail.

  “Ace. Long time, no talk.” He chuckled. “What’s up?”

  “Are you busy tonight?”

  “Not really. I gotta swing by Release around ten or so. Why?”

  “I’m on my way back from Salado. Thought I’d see if you wanted to meet for a drink. Or three.”

  “How far out are you?”

  “About an hour, give or take.”

  “Where and when?”

  “Flying Saucer at seven-thirty?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Later.”

  I made better time than I thought and rolled into the Flying Saucer’s parking lot shortly after seven. No big deal. I could get a head start. I was sure I’d need it to deal with all the shit Parker would throw my way. He was a great listener, but he definitely didn’t pull any punches when it came to giving me advice.

  I had just ordered my third beer when Parker arrived and slid onto the stool beside me. “How long you been here, Ace?”

  “Long enough to be on my third beer.”

  “Fucker. You shoulda called.” He waved over the bartender and ordered his favorite IPA. “So what’s on your mind?”

  I had only given him bare-bones information about Caitlin, so I brought him up to speed, the good, the bad ... all of it. In typical Parker fashion, he didn’t say anything for several minutes. He sipped his beer calmly, digesting everything I’d said.

  “How do you feel about her?”

  “Uh ... I don’t, not really. I mean, I like her. I don’t want anything bad to happen to her. But I’m not developing any real feelings for her.” I shrugged. “I just want to fuck her.”

  “Good pussy will do that to us.”

  I rolled my eyes. “C’mon, man. Give me something I can use. Typically, I’d be balls-deep in Caitlin by now.”

  “You mean you chose me over pussy tonight?” He smirked. “I’m touched.”

  I scowled and lifted my beer for another sip. “You are not helping.”

  “Okay.” He chugged the rest of his beer and motioned for another. “I’m thinking she’d probably say just about anything to keep you from walking, right?”

  I nodded.

  “And you’re pretty well locked in for five months?”

  I nodded again.

  “I’d give it another month, two tops, and see how she acts then. If she meant what she said, nothing will change. If she didn’t, you’ll be able to tell. She’ll probably start pushing again. It may be subtle at first, but she’ll definitely start pressuring you for more.” The bartender slid the fresh brew across the bar, and Parker nodded in thanks. “In the meantime, I’d fuck the shit out of her, every chance I got.”

  I left the bar with no better clarity than I’d had before meeting up with Parker. The only thing I knew for sure was I was horny and needed some relief. I drove straight to Caitlin’s. She greeted me at the door less than a minute after I rang the bell. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun and she wore no makeup.

  “Hey...” She backed up, allowing me entrance.

  “Hey.”

  I pushed the door closed and lunged for her, drawing her to me and claiming her mouth. Our hands were everywhere, tearing at our clothes, littering the floor between the door and the living room.

  We landed on the sofa, and I pulled her onto my lap. “Ride me.”

  She straddled me and rose up, taking my cock inside her.

  Fuck.

  It was hot. It was fast. It was frantic.

  I was losing my fucking mind.

  After, we lay spooned together on the sofa. “Can you stay?” she asked.

  “I want to, but I really can’t. I just got back from a multi-site shoot for Architectural Digest, and I’ve got a ton of images to process tomorrow. They have to be finished by the end of the week, then I’m out all of the following week. My agent submitted samples of my work to a few other magazines and I have to fly to New York to meet with them and see if we’re going to be a good fit.”

  “When will I see you again?”

  “I’ll try for next weekend, but I’m not sure. It will depend on my travel schedule and how much Troy and I can get done during the week.”

  “Okay. Call and let me know?”

  “I will.” I rolled her onto her back and settled on top. “But I’m not leaving just yet.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  My father had asked for five months.

  That was the expiration date on my situation-ship with Caitlin. Was I enjoying myself? Sure. What man wouldn’t enjoy having a hot chick at his disposal for sex whenever he wanted it?

  We didn’t go out. I didn’t want to waste the time since we only saw each other every other weekend. God help me, I couldn’t wait to see her, and we fucked like rabbits the entire time we were together, but I still didn’t feel any emotional attachment. I did care about her, on some level, but it wasn’t anything close to love.

  Unfortunately, Parker was right, and around the three-month mark, she started to push. It was subtle, but it was there, starting with being added to the approved list at my building. Then it was a key. Then a commitment. None of which I did. She started dropping hints when she mentioned her engaged and married friends. It was wearing on me. I may have ended it sooner, to hell with my father, if I hadn’t been so goddamned addicted to her.

  By September, she was making holiday plans. I kept my responses vague and began scheduling more frequent sessions at Release just to give myself an easy out when Caitlin asked to see me. The fourth quarter had always been a hectic time for me, and I had no idea what other assignments might come my way.

  Our easy camaraderie began to disintegrate at the beginning of October. Connor informed me that the drilling permits were in process—Caitlin’s progress reports had loosened George’s purse strings—and I would soon be free to cut ties. I didn’t want to be a complete dick, so I gave Cait the benefit of the doubt. To be honest, I was also giving myself a buffer so I could keep fucking her.

  I never said I wasn’t a selfish asshole.

  Two weeks before Halloween, we were lying in Cait’s bed. It was late Friday night, and we’d already fucked most of the afternoon and evening. My heart may have been closed, but my physical hunger for her had not waned.

  “What are you doing next Saturday?” she asked, curled beside me, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest.

  “Probably the same thing I usually do. You.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure that will still be in the plan, but do you have anything else in mind?”

  “Uh ... I think I just answered that.”

  “The reason I ask is my friend David’s having a Halloween party. I thought it might be fun.”

  “Cait...” I groaned. I’d met the guy a couple times, and he gave off a weird vibe. I couldn’t quite say why, but I didn’t like him.

  She rose onto her knees and straddled me. “C’mon. It could be fun. We can do a couples’ costume.”

  I grasped her hips and adjusted her so I could slip my dick inside her. She got the hint and rocked against me.

  “Halloween’s not really my thing.”

  “It could be fun,” she purred, running her tongue up my throat to my ear.

  “So could being naked in bed.”

  Her hard nipples scraped against my chest. “We can do that, too. Before and after the party.”

  I growled. “I don’t know.”

  My hips rocked into hers, and the conversation was forgotten—temporarily, at least. She asked me again when we were sweaty and breathless.

  “So, about David’s party...”

  “Look, Cait, I really don’t want to go. I’m not into it. Why don’t you go? I’m sure you can get a few of your girlfriends to go with you.”

  That was when I got a glimpse of the real Caitl
in, the one who had made all the demands months before. The one who threw a tantrum for not being on the approved list.

  She pushed onto her elbow and glared. “I’m asking for one simple thing. It’s a party, Ian. We can fuck anytime. I really want to go to this party, and I want to go with you. I don’t think I’m asking all that much.”

  I ground my teeth, biting back all the scathing remarks that sprang to mind. “Fine.”

  “I thought we could go as Jay Gatsby and Daisy. Won’t that be cute?”

  Fucking fabulous.

  “Whatever you think,” I grumbled.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I hadn’t worn a tux since Mason’s wedding. Before that, it had been at the last bullshit society dance I was forced to attend. Never in a million years would I have imagined wearing one on Halloween as a fucking costume.

  But that’s what Caitlin wanted, and she continually let me know that from the time she brought up her douche bag friend’s party until the actual day of the event. She must have sent over twenty text messages of costume suggestions for Gatsby.

  I realized too late that, contrary to my intentions, I had lapsed into complacency regarding our relationship, and that had allowed her to get a bit too comfortable. My dick had overruled my common sense, and I was paying the price for that. I had put off ending it because I enjoyed the physical benefits, but it was time to cut my losses and move on before she got even more attached.

  Against my better judgment, I stayed over Friday night. It was for purely selfish reasons, though—I planned to break things off after the party because I wanted one last night between her thighs. I also hoped that it would put her in a good mood and make her more agreeable about the whole thing.

  Cait walked into the bathroom while I was tying my bow tie. “Could you zip me, please?”

  “Sure.”

  I finished the knot and turned toward her. The dress she wore was a typical flapper style, black with a beaded peacock design and green fringe, form-fitting and sexy as hell. Her hair was pulled back and twisted through her beaded headband.

  Her smile fell. “Aren’t you going to shave?”

  “Hadn’t planned on it.”

  “Ian...”

  “We’re going to David’s party like you asked, and I let you talk me into wearing a tux, for fuck sake. I seriously doubt two days’ worth of stubble is going to ruin our evening.” I arched a brow. “Unless you let it.”

  “Gatsby didn’t have a beard,” she huffed.

  “Well, Daisy was blonde, so we’ll have to suspend disbelief tonight, won’t we?”

  Her brows knit. “It’ll grow back. It’s not like I asked you to cut off your dick.”

  “If you’re so unhappy about it, you can go by yourself. Or, I can drop you off. Call me when you’re ready to leave, and I’ll pick you up.”

  She glared, indecision written on her face as if she wanted to dig deeper into an argument but understood that was a bad idea. Instead, she spun around, head bowed, exposing the smooth line of her back between the gap from the open zipper. My fingers moved on their own, gliding over the soft skin and tracing her spine before drawing the zipper upward.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, turning to face me.

  “So we’re going then?”

  “Yes. I’ll get my shoes.”

  She joined me in the foyer several minutes later.

  “You look gorgeous.”

  A rosy flush filled her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  It seemed the evening was back on track.

  Until we were trapped together inside a moving vehicle. “I’ve been thinking...” Her voice was quiet, with a slight tremor.

  Wary, I shifted in my seat. “About?”

  “Well, the past few months have been amazing, don’t you think? I mean, we’ve really been doing well together.”

  Sensing a trap, I hesitated before answering and chose my words carefully. “Things have been better, yes. For the most part.”

  “I think we’ve turned a corner.”

  “What corner?”

  “In our relationship, silly.”

  Oh, fuck no.

  “Cait, I thought we sorted this out,” I sighed. “You said you understood what I want and the way things are.”

  “Of course, I understood. But that was before. Things have changed.”

  “Before? What do you mean changed?” We reached our destination and parked a few doors down from the party. I killed the engine and turned toward her, my back against the door. “What the fuck are you talking about? Nothing’s changed.”

  “Yes, things are different now that we’ve been spending so much time together.”

  She had gone fucking insane in the span of twenty minutes.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, the only thing we do together is fuck. That’s it.”

  “We need to talk about that, too.” She released her seat belt and moved forward so she could turn and face me fully. “I want to start going on real dates—frequent dates. And I think we should start staying at your place on occasion. It’s time we make some concrete plans and be a real couple.”

  “You have lost your fucking mind,” I growled. “You know what, I was gonna wait until later, but after tonight, I think we need to go our separate ways.”

  Even in the dim lighting I could see the smug smile stretch across her face. It was the same expression she’d worn the first night we had sex. “I’m pregnant.”

  “What the fuck did you just say?” I croaked, the words stuck in my throat, my mouth suddenly parched.

  “I said, I’m pregnant.” She leaned closer and placed a hand on my knee. “I suggest you get ready to be a father. I’m having this baby, and you will do this with me. You have six months to get used to the idea.”

  “How long have you known? And why the fuck are you just mentioning this now?”

  Shrugging, she rested her hand on the door handle, curling her fingers around it. It was such a casual gesture, given the seriousness of her revelation. “A couple weeks, I guess. I’ve been waiting for the right time to bring it up. Now seemed as good a time as any.”

  Heat rushed through me, and my breath came out in short, sharp bursts. My fists clenched, fingernails digging into my palms in response to the familiar feeling of betrayal. She fucking planned it—most likely endorsed by our fathers—to force me into marrying her.

  “I thought you were on the pill.”

  “I am ... I was. But you know nothing is one-hundred percent effective.” Her words came out carefree as if she hadn’t just knocked me on my ass. “I think I may have missed a couple days, though. There were a few times we barely got out of bed, and I can’t remember if I took a pill or not.”

  “Did they put you up to this?”

  Ignoring my question, she pulled the handle and popped the door, a smile spreading across her face. “Shall we go inside? We can talk about this later, at home.”

  Seething, I slammed my own door and stalked behind her. I had known she was more than just a pawn, but I never suspected she would stoop that low. No wonder she agreed so readily to my terms—it was part of her game all along. And I had fallen right into her trap.

  The party was fairly crowded, and it wasn’t long before Caitlin disappeared. She was crazy if she believed she could drop a bomb like that on me and just vanish. I moved through the cramped space and found her in the kitchen, huddled with her girlfriends, holding a glass of wine.

  Unbelievable.

  I grasped her elbow. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “What?” Her attitude turned haughty, and she gestured to her friends, who all shared the same snobbish expression. “You’re being very rude.”

  “Ladies.” I nodded and gave them a tight smile before leaning closer to Cait. “May I speak with you a moment?”

  She fluttered her lashes. “Of course, babe. Anything for you.”

  I’d never hit a woman, but fucking hell, the urge to throttle her was strong. I pulled her away from her f
riends and lowered my voice. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Ten minutes ago you tell me you’re pregnant and now you’re drinking? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Rachel said one glass won’t do any harm.”

  I plucked the glass from her fingers and placed it on the nearest counter. “I don’t give a shit what your friends say.” I lowered my mouth to her ear. “I’m not sure what game you’re playing, but in the off-chance you’re telling the truth, I’m not going to allow you to endanger the life of my child.”

  “So you believe me now?”

  My grip tightened. “I don’t know what to believe, but next week we’re going to see a doctor—together—and find out.”

  Caitlin flinched—a brief but involuntary movement that I almost missed. Her face paled, but just as quickly color returned to her cheeks. “Fine. I promise I won’t drink anything else. Just water.”

  “Okay, then.”

  She hooked her arm through mine and steered us from the kitchen. A petite girl dressed as Tinkerbell wove through the crowd with a tray of Jägermeister shots, and I grabbed one as she passed. I hoped it would take the edge off.

  It worked. So I had another.

  Eventually, I relaxed enough that I was convinced things would work out, that the next day we could talk about things like reasonable adults. We would be fine, and if Cait really were pregnant, we’d deal with it.

  My newfound optimism lasted about an hour.

  Cait excused herself to find a bathroom, and then never returned. A vague sense of unease settled in my gut and I made my way through the house searching for her. My progress was halted by another guest, someone I’d met in passing at Mason’s wedding. Manners took over, and I allowed myself to be drawn into conversation.

  As soon as courtesy permitted, I excused myself. I finally discovered her on the patio, near the bar.

  Doing shots.

  With David.

  She was hanging on him, damn near making out with him. Based on her posture and the looseness of her limbs, she’d had several. She was taunting me, knowing I would seek her out again.