I looked up through the valley of her breasts. “This is real,” I murmured. She put a hand on my shoulder to steady herself and I rose, guiding her fingers to my chest to trap them there. “Tell me you don’t feel this?” My heart beat faster, blood speeding up to thud through my veins as I waited for her answer.
Her fingers closed in a fist against my skin before she yanked her hand away. “You just want me to care about you,” she accused. “You want to be better than anyone else, to have what no one else has.” A short, bitter laugh followed her words. “That’s all part of your strategy, isn’t it? Win at all costs?”
“That’s not true.” I reached for her, but she skittered out of my hold. I flexed my fingers, my chest suddenly so tight I wondered that my heart could keep beating.
Abby shook her head. “Isn’t it?” Her steady gaze dared me to deny it. “Tell me you don’t need me to give in for you to win then?” She waited a moment. When I didn’t say anything, she stared at me a moment longer before turning away. But not before I saw the light dim in her eyes. “How many times do you need to win to be satisfied?” she said. “How many times before you realize you’re good enough?” She grabbed at her clothes, pelting accusations at me so fast I could barely keep up.
I glared back, my frustration growing. “Who hurt you?” I asked. I moved to block the doorway, wanting to push at her control. I didn’t give a shit about the game right now—I just wanted her be honest with me.
Abby struggled into the last of her clothes, her movements awkward as the material stuck to her wet skin. Her face was flushed by the time she smoothed her shirt and was ready to face me again.
“Someone who didn’t care who they hurt to get what they wanted. Someone exactly like you.”
Shouldering me out of the way, Abby grabbed her shoes from the living area and was halfway out the door before I realized what had happened. I cursed as the door slammed shut behind her, listening to the distant thud of her feet as she raced down the stairs.
I turned back to the destruction of the bathroom, my heart thudding dully in my chest. The scene was reminiscent of a battlefield. There was no other way to describe it. A fitting tribute to my evening with Abby, where we’d parried and thrust pointed barbs, searching out the chinks in each other’s armor. Playing the game.
At least I was right about one thing. Abby had been hurt. Now I understood why there were times she held me so tight it was almost impossible to catch my breath, and other times she shoved me away. Someone had broken her heart. And tonight she’d admitted it.
I should have scented victory. Abby used games to hide and she’d just handed me the vital, winning strategy. It was what I had been waiting for, the opportunity to go for the kill. Strike hard. Break her.
My gaze swept the sodden mess of the bathroom once more and I slumped against the basin, hit with the realization that I didn’t want to play anymore. This wasn’t what I wanted with Abby, to face each other as rivals and not as lovers. For everything to be a competition. My eyes widened as I faced my reflection and saw for the first time that what I wanted was an actual relationship.
Something real. Something loving.
How was I supposed to make that happen? The more I pushed, the more Abby retreated and the more I hurt her. The knowledge settled like lead in my chest and I pressed my hands against my eyes, weariness sinking into my bones.
What had I done?
When I had started this stupid competition of one-up-man-ship, I hadn’t considered Abby as a person. I’d treated her like a conquest, an object to be won. Abby had been close to the truth when she’d thrown out her damning accusations. She couldn’t know how hard I had driven myself, the impossible measures I’d set to better my life. To be the best.
Now as everything between us unraveled, I considered there were worse things than losing. I straightened, raking my hand through my hair. I wanted to run after Abby. To shake her. To beg her forgiveness. But I knew if I pressed her now, she might break and shatter.
I should let her go.
I shook my head even as the thought formed. I couldn’t do that either. My heart gave a hollow thump.
All I could do was ride this train wreck until it reached the end of the line. And all I could hope for was that I was strong enough to survive the crash. For the both of us.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Abby
For once, six o’clock came far too quickly. I wanted to go to Marcus. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to see him, needed to see him, but I didn’t want to need to see him.
Argh. Confusing!
Something had happened last night after I’d left. I’d returned to my hotel to stand under the shower, shivering with an inner chill so fierce I imagined a solid block of ice lay just beneath my skin. No coldness, no heat. Nothing.
Marcus obviously felt it too. He’d been avoiding me all day. Now, it was after six and I was still in my office. Waiting. I gave up on working, wandered down the corridor to the kitchen to fill a glass from the faucet. As I pressed the chilled glass against my cheek, my eye caught on a rowboat out on the water. It skimmed the river toward the private beach at the back of the house.
It wasn’t hard to recognize Marcus. My breath caught at the striking image, fierce determination in every line of his body. The epitome of a champion. A winner. I could imagine his grin. He slowed to a stop, muscles straining as he back-paddled to turn the skiff around. The sight of him triggered a swell of desire that became a turbulent pull I couldn’t escape.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
It had to end. One way or another, this thing between me and Marcus had to end. I couldn’t keep pretending like it didn’t matter. Last night in the shower, I had accepted I wasn’t playing against Marcus anymore. Hidden under the thrum of the water I’d acknowledged that somewhere in the last few days the game had changed. Or maybe it was me that had. What started out as a light, lusty competition had turned into an all-out war—not against Marcus, but against myself and what I felt for him.
Marcus walked out of the boatshed and I met him on the path, taking advantage of his hesitation to move toward him. White stone crunched under my feet, the noise sounding loud in the still of the deepening dusk.
I couldn’t meet his eyes as I slipped open the top button of my shirt. I kept going, one step, one button, until I reached him. The world fell into silence as if waiting for me to speak.
“I want you.” My heart was pounding. I faltered as Marcus drew back. Uncertainty flickered in his eyes and his grip tightened painfully. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I want you…inside me.” My words were a whisper.
Marcus’s breath caught, his head dipping to nuzzle my forehead. I waited for him to move lower, to claim my mouth and hold me within his heat, but he didn’t. Barely relaxing his hold, he drew me to sit on a patio lounger. Marcus pulled me onto his lap so I straddled his thighs, facing him. I’d never seen him look so serious.
“As much as I want to rip every shred of clothing from you, I need to be sure of what you’re saying,” he prompted. He smiled tightly, a grin that came nowhere close to reaching his eyes.
Of course. Marcus would want to hear me admit he’d won. I’d forgotten he was still in the game. Twisting the hem of his T-shirt, I had the sudden urge to hide my face and sob. Or run.
“Did you love him?”
“What?”
“The guy who hurt you. Did you love him?” he asked again, gentler this time.
I tilted my head. “Yes.” I replied automatically. Yet…was that still true? I rubbed my arms against the chill of the night. Of course it was.
Marcus pressed his lips together tighter and I fought against the urge to smooth my hand along his jawline. “Do you still love him?” he asked, his voice dropping.
I blinked, thoughts of Nathan…Nicky…betrayal slipping from my grasp. “I-I don’t know,” I stammered. “Does it make a difference?” My chest ached. I didn’t want to bring Nathan into this moment. Nathan,
Nicky and my mother weren’t part of my life anymore. “Whether I love anyone or not, it doesn’t change a thing. It has nothing to do with us.”
Marcus cupped my face, refusing to let me look away. “It has everything to do with us, Abby. He’s still in your thoughts, dictating how you live your life. Don’t you see that it wasn’t just love you lost, but your belief in love itself? You let him take that from you.”
The temptation to lean into his touch overwhelmed me. I wanted to be swept away and forget everything I’d ever known about love. Squeezing my hands together, I drew on the bitterness that had been a constant companion since I’d found out about Nicky and Nathan.
“Why? Is this ruining your pet project.” I forced a sneer into my voice. “Am I souring your win?”
“No.” Marcus’s grip on my chin tightened. “I’m not playing games. Don’t you get it, Abby? Neither of us can win.”
My breath roughened at the sincerity in his voice and his unguarded stare.
“Can you honestly tell me you’ve been happy these last few days?” he asked. My face must have shown my answer, because the grip at my waist tightened. “You deserve more than that and so do I.” He took a breath and it was as if he were trying to breathe me in too. Hold me to him. “I’m willing to walk away if that’s what you want,” he said, looking away. “I’d rather do that than hurt you.”
I couldn’t absorb his words, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but stop him from speaking them. I didn’t want to hear him say anything more, to offer false promises or phony proclamations of love. Not from Marcus. I sealed my lips against his mouth and took what he offered. No apologies. I wanted this one perfect moment.
“I need you.” I pushed the words into his mouth. “Please Marcus. I need you. All of you.”
Marcus’s gaze searched mine for a moment before he swept me into his arms and carried me upstairs. He lowered me beside his bed and began what I had started. His touch was almost reverent as he unfastened the rest of my buttons, drew off my shirt and let it slide to the floor. His lips parted, a soundless sigh of pleasure as he took in the sight of my lace-covered breasts, my flat belly.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to my shoulder.
Hands slid around to unfasten my skirt. I barely felt it slither past my hips as he pressed kiss after kiss into my skin. My panties were next, then cool air hit my nipples as my breasts came free. Marcus pulled back to look at me and his eyes etched a path over my body, so hot I could follow the blazing trail.
“You now.” My hands were trembling as they reached for his belt.
His T-shirt was lifted over his head. My lips tasted the salty nectar of his skin as I traced each muscled ridge of his chest. When we were both naked, Marcus knelt on the bed and offered his hand. I slipped my fingers into his and was pulled down until they lay together face to face, only millimeters apart.
Lips fused together in a series of slow, intoxicating kisses. Our bodies aligned, legs tangling in an effort to press closer as Marcus started a sensuous exploration of my body. I moaned as his fingers trailed over first one nipple, then the other. I repaid him in kind, mirroring each of his caresses with one of my own, my fingers lingering on his chest, his hips, his thighs.
Pleasure built between us, fed from each other until every cell in my body was alive and aching. For Marcus. His fingers slid between my parted legs, and a low hiss seeped from his lips as he found me wet and ready. I ran my nails over his cock, feeling the silken hardness of him as I stroked him from tip to base. An all-consuming need rose, basic and primal, until all I could think of was Marcus inside me, filling me…completing me.
My lips found his in a silent plea and he allowed me to pull him closer.
A shiver of icy finality slithered to the base of my spine when I read his look, both ecstasy and sorrow. It was fleeting. The heat he ignited chased away the coldness, the unease dissipating as he fitted a condom and slid between my thighs. His cock nudged my entrance and he pushed forward to claim me.
“Ahh.” Nothing had ever felt so right. A guttural groan of acceptance escaped as I closed my eyes and drank in the feeling of wholeness.
Marcus stilled, waiting until my eyes opened before starting to move in long, lush strokes.
“You are everything I want.” His lips branded mine with a crushing kiss.
Marcus. His name became a whispered litany. I wrapped my legs around his thighs as his pace quickened. The delicious rasp of his cock so deep inside me built to a crescendo and his urgent cries mingled with my own. His breath came in stilted bursts, eyes glittering like burnished topaz as he stared down at me, his chest rumbling with deep-seated pleasure.
I dug my fingers into Marcus’s back, rising to meet him stroke for stroke. I was on fire, flushed with heat, the sensations almost too much to bear. My mind shut down as I came hard, wrenched apart and put together again. I breathed his name against his lips with a cry and Marcus stiffened, his hips lurching forward, cock jerking as he came inside me.
“I love you,” he whispered.
The harsh sound of my breathing quieted and Marcus relaxed to lower himself like a blanket over my body. I blinked back the tears as I splayed my hands across his back and held tight. I didn’t want him to move. I didn’t want this moment of weakness to end.
He’d said he loved me.
I would give Marcus everything, if only I could let myself believe it was real.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Abby
I sat at the bottom of the shower, letting the water drum hot needles into my skin. As soon as I’d gotten back to my hotel room, I’d wrenched my clothes off and turned the water to scalding.
Droplets mingled with tears until I couldn’t tell if I was crying anymore. I hadn’t wanted Marcus to tell me he loved me. Those words, whether he meant them or not, set my heart beating faster, made me ache for something I couldn’t have. Those words ruined everything.
The end of our quasi-relationship was inevitable, and already I had fallen much deeper than expected. It hurt. Knowing nothing was guaranteed, not promises of love, not the unconditional love of a family…my own mother. Love, if there was such a thing, didn’t last. I knew all too well that this had been a game Marcus had set out to win at any cost.
His words tonight had been a seductive whisper, a call to let go and explore what was between us that’d shattered my rigid little world. But even if he had accidentally fallen in love, I’d always be holding my breath, waiting for his betrayal.
At least Marcus was right about one thing. Nicky and Nathan had stolen something from me…something integral…something that made me less than whole. A fresh well of tears burnt a path down my cheeks and I clasped my hands around my knees, holding in the pain that threatened to break me apart.
It was the insistent buzz of my phone that finally pulled me out of the shower. I left it running, grabbing my cell from the pile of clothes by the door, half-expecting, wishing, it was Marcus’s name on the caller display. My heart squeezed tight with disappointment when I found Stacy instead.
“Are you all right?”
My friend’s anxious question prodded through the numbness. I didn’t even question how Stacy knew something was wrong. Calling my best friend to check on me was exactly the kind of thing Marcus would do. He cared. The thought brought fresh tears and a sob escaped from my too tight chest.
“Oh God, Abby. You’re crying?”
I kept trying to tell Stacy I was all right. Or, would be all right once I could shove all of this emotional shit into a place where it couldn’t touch me anymore. I’d done it before. But this…this was different. This time it felt like the hollow void inside me could never be filled. And the weight of it was crushing me.
“Stay right where you are.” Stacy was crying too, doing her best to comfort me from a million miles away. “I’m getting on the first flight I can. It’s okay. You can come home now.”
Numbly, I hung up and climbed back into the shower.<
br />
I left for Chicago at ten o’clock the next morning, while Stacy made her way to Marcus’s home to complete the contracted work. The handover had been simple enough. That part was easy, much easier than looking my friend in the eye and trying to put into words what had gone so wrong.
“Someday, you’re going to have to stop letting what happened with Nathan control your life.” Stacy’s parting shot tumbled end over end in my mind as I drove, skirting Buffalo to follow the highway as it curved around the Southern reaches of Lake Erie.
“Marcus is playing a game, just like everyone else.” I had convinced myself of this in the hours I’d waited for Stacy to arrive last night.
He had to be playing. Neither of us had won, but from every loss, I could only grow stronger. I lifted my chin. Next time, next game, I’d get better. Next time. I blew out a breath, unable to imagine there ever being a next time. Not without Marcus.
But that would pass too, right?
“And if he’s not playing?” Stacy had asked, more than a hint of exasperation in her voice. “Why would he be chasing you so hard, setting up this consultancy deal when he probably didn’t need it, calling me about you when he’s worried? God, he even shut down his offices with fake repairs just to get you into his home.”
“What?” My mouth had dropped open and a welcome swirl of anger had tightened its grip in my belly. “That just proves I’m right.” I’d tried to get Stacy to see what I knew in my heart. “Nobody pulls shit like that unless they’re playing. He was always determined to win.” I’d poked my finger in Stacy’s face. “It’s all been one giant set-up from the start.”
The specialized cab had arrived a moment later and Stacy had frowned. “You’re my best friend, you know that right?” She’d tugged me downward until our eyes had met.
“Of course.” I had sunk to my knees, gripping tight to her hand. Stacy was the only good thing I had in my life. Without her… I’d shivered, not even wanting to contemplate the thought for fear it might come true.
His Rules (One Night Stand Series Book 1) Page 11
