“It’s okay, Violet, I’ve heard the word.” I looked up to her and she winked at me.
“Ahhhh…” I belted out for both our benefit. She had a velvet voice and nice brown eyes. She was tall but slender, and had hands that could melt a statue.
“I don’t see a ring,” Alana said, working my arms. “Are you here with someone?”
“No, I’m alone, though I am regretting that right about now. It’s been a crazy few months. I just needed a break.”
“I can feel the crazy few months in your shoulders,” she said, soothingly working the hard knots out with ease.
“You have no idea,” I said, pressing my face tighter into the cushion as she rubbed in more scented oil.
“You have twenty minutes,” she said, her voice lifting in curiosity.
I thought about confessing my sins. I was alone in the Caymans. Chances are she would never see me again. I had never been able to open up to another woman about Rhys, but still couldn’t bring myself to tell the whole truth.
“The cliff notes version is I am days away from a divorce, I was recently robbed and beaten then left for dead, I became involved with a man that has completely ruined me for all other men, but is right now a little bit of a mystery. He’s kind of perfect, but has … a dark side, I guess.”
Understatement of the year, Violet.
“Wow,” she said, digging her elbows into the hard tissue just above my ass.
I chuckled. “All that just in the last two months. That might be one reason I’m here.” I shook my head with wide eyes as I glanced at her over my shoulder. “Anyway, I wanted to make sure I am in love with the dude not the dick, even though I’m sure it’s both.”
“Well, honey, it sounds like a win-win to me. Love a little mystery in a man.”
My phone vibrated and I grinned back at her. “This is him. Let’s make him jealous.”
I let out a moan as I slid my phone to answer. “Rhys, oh GOD, the hands, mmmmmm.”
“What the hell are you doing?” he chuckled as I moaned in his ear.
“Mmm, oh, yes! Don’t stop.”
More chuckling from him.
I deadpanned, “What? No jealousy for me? I’ll have you know I’m being rubbed down by a set of hot hands right now.”
“Those better be the hands of a woman, or maybe I should warn you of what happens when I get truly jealous.” His tone was deadly. I got hot immediately.
“That’s more like it,” I said instantly, no longer interested in the hands that were touching me.
“Violet, I’m warning you now, you moan in my ear one more time, I’ll make your homecoming painful.”
“Mmmm,” I said, thinking of the ways it could be.
“Was that for me or her?” he said, his voice rough and laced with want.
“You, always for you.” Alana tapped my shoulder and smiled. I waved her a ‘thank you’ and sat up. “I like your hands more.”
“Then come back.” His words were harsh. He wasn’t enjoying the distance. My heart tugged. I knew he wanted me without a doubt. I was sure I wouldn’t last the week.
“I’ll be divorced in two days,” I piped happily.
“Good, I’ll see you then?”
“I’m thinking about it,” I said seriously.
“I have to get back to work. Tonight, same time?”
“Perfect.”
You will write one damn thing on your bucket list before you go back to Savannah, Vi.
“Bryce, please, son. Keep them in your tray.” I stared at my bullheaded son who insisted on throwing his Cheerios on the floor. To spite me, he looked up at me with another handful and emptied it onto the floor. I grinned, shaking my head. “Fine,” I said, pouring half the box on his tray. “Try to get some of them into your mouth.”
The doorbell rang, and for a second I got my hopes up. But it couldn’t be her. Damn that woman. She had no idea what she was doing to me. I opened the door and immediately my blood boiled.
“Rhys.” She smiled sweetly. I knew that smile, not a chance in hell.
“Look, if I have to get a court order, I will,” I said, taking an aggressive step toward her.
“Tsk, tsk,” she said, waving her finger arrogantly. “I just stopped by to say hello.”
“Because you thought I would take one look at you and come undone, right?”
She crossed her long legs as she leaned against the door, her smile wicked and her intentions worse.
“I had hoped for a better reception,” she said, leaning in close, too close.
“Listen to me. I want nothing to do with you. I tried with you, I did everything.”
“Everything I wanted you to do,” she fired back, clearly shocked she hadn’t made a dent in my resolve.
“I’m getting a court order. You can’t do this. I was never as weak as you thought I was. You were just fucking delusional. Leave.” I pointed behind her and she snatched my finger with her mouth, sucking it slowly, making a popping sound when she let it go. I heard Bryce knock off the tray from his high chair—a skill he had learned recently—and ran into the kitchen to grab him before he fell out of it.
I got to Bryce just in time and heard her behind me.
“He looks just like you,” she said coldly. I stiffened as I held him, knowing I had no choice but to face her. I turned with Bryce in my arms and saw her take in her son for the first time since his birth. I never wanted him to lay eyes on her. She had just taken that away from me.
“Get out. I’m not even joking; I will fucking throw you out. You can’t do this!” I felt Bryce shaking in my arms from my hostility. Looking down at him, I smiled and rubbed the top of his head. “It’s okay, buddy.”
“Don’t you miss it? The way we were? How hot it was?” she said, completely ignoring the baby in my arms.
“No, I’ve moved on, you should too. I don’t want you coming here. It will only confuse him,” I said evenly, hoping to keep the conversation civil. She glared at Bryce, as if he was the reason for our separation, then turned to walk toward the front door.
“He will always be the abortion I should have had.”
I saw red at her words. “If you ever come back here, I’ll have you arrested. You’ll be served with a restraining order, bet on it,” I said, hot on her heels as I followed her out.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Rhys. I won’t be back.”
I slammed the door on her back, eliciting an enraged scream as it hit her in the ass. Violet was right, the porch was cursed.
Fuck. Fuck. Why is she doing this?
I felt my phone vibrate.
V: I am sitting in the tub and could use a war story.
I had been telling her tales over the phone last night that I’d heard over the years of BDSM scenarios gone wrong. They seemed to fascinate her. She had laughed hysterically. I loved that sound.
R: Now is a bad time.
V: Everything okay?
R: Yes, just perfect. Enjoy your soak.
I was too angry to think about my response to her until later that day.
The more I thought about my behavior, the more I thought about her—Violet, not the evil bitch that showed up at my door. She was non-existent and I refused to entertain her. If she wanted me thinking about her, she’d failed.
My thoughts were of the woman who had captured me completely with her body first, and then her words. I wanted to apologize to her, but disliked the idea of doing it over the phone. She’d put up with much worse from me, but she didn’t deserve it this morning, or then for that matter. How the hell could I make it up to her if I couldn’t see her, touch her?
The image of the night I found her on that floor covered in blood flashed through my mind. I got her help text and made it to her house in fifteen minutes. I should have called the police, but I didn’t know where she was, so to be sure I went there first. The rest repeats on an endless cycle of slow motion when I think about it. The door was open, the screen closed, and I immediately felt a heaviness in my
chest I never knew was possible. I opened the door while dialing, afraid to touch her. There was so much blood. There was no way I would ever recover if she was dead. I knew then I would never be the same without her in my life. When I reached her, I knelt down, checking for a pulse. It was there, weak, but there. I scooped her up in my arms, applying pressure to the source of the blood escaping her neck.
She was alone in a house in Grand Cayman. Fuck.
If she only knew how that affected me every day she’d been gone; how worried I was about her safety. She wasn’t concerned about it in the least, or if she was, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t want to scare her by voicing mine. Then again, I had gotten into her house through an unlocked door the night I confronted her about her husband.
I’d never been anywhere close to doing anything like that with anyone else. I should have given her a chance to explain. Then maybe she wouldn’t be off on some island wondering where the hell my head was at, and why I didn’t tell her what I should have a month ago.
The guilt I felt while she lay in that hospital bed consumed me. I wouldn’t fuck up like that again, not with her.
When I had laid Bryce down for the night, I called to apologize.
“I’m sorry, I had a bad morning.” I didn’t even let her finish her hello.
“I figured. What happened?” I could tell she was on edge. I’d probably done that to her. She didn’t deserve it.
“Can we not talk about it right now?”
“No secrets,” she reminded me.
“This isn’t a secret. We can call it a delayed conversation,” I gritted out.
“Nice. I can tell you are still angry. I wish I could serve you some ass to take it out on.” I could practically see the smile she was wearing and groaned in reply. Fuck, she was perfect.
“And this is why I couldn’t get anything done at work today.”
“Tell me about music,” she murmured, her voice putting me at ease.
“Music?”
“Yeah, tell me what you like.”
“I have a thing for good guitar solos,” I said, my mood evening out for the first time today. I climbed the stairs and checked on Bryce then went to my room to strip and bathe.
“Hmm, interesting,” she said, playing along.
“No, it’s not really,” I mused at her reach for small conversation. “I’m taking a bath. Why don’t you join me?”
“I took one today. I was in the tub when I texted you, remember?”
“Take another one,” I said suggestively.
“Okay.” I heard the rush of water as she readied her bath, and minutes later, we both sank into our tubs.
“Kind of a feminine habit you have here, Rhys.” She laughed and I joined her.
“Baths are relaxing. I don’t drink when I have Bryce, so this is what I do. Don’t hate on Daddy’s bath.”
“Not hating, just an observation. Don’t forget to sprinkle your salt.” She laughed again and I heard her water splash.
“Cute, really you are adorable. In my mind, I have blistered your ass about a hundred times since you left.” I knew I had her attention.
“Well then, I guess I’m thankful my ass is safe.” She sighed and I could picture her beautiful hazel eyes peering at me, mouth parted.
My bath was no longer relaxing.
“Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, Violet. I don’t like that you’ll be alone.”
“I have a chicken to cook,” she said, upbeat.
“I’m cooking my first turkey.” I laughed at the thought.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, her silky voice making it hard for me to concentrate on her question.
“Me, Bryce and a raw turkey. I can’t wait until you get a chance to know him. He is a twenty-eight pound Godzilla.
“Tell me more,” she said sweetly.
“What do you want to know?” I asked, rolling up a hand towel with one hand before sticking it behind my head.
“Everything,” she sighed.
“Before I brought him home from the hospital, I Googled everything and I mean everything. I watched a few videos to get the gist of it. There was a lot of trial and error. I had help from my family, but I’ve been pretty much alone the whole time. I thought it would be easier than it was. Feed him, clothe him, change him. I didn’t put much weight on sleeping schedules or an extra set of clothes just in case, or the croup or baby reflux.” I paused. “I really never thought I would be a dad. I’ve been pretty selfish with my freedom my whole life. I liked just worrying about me. And then I found out he was coming and I couldn’t handle the thought of not keeping him.”
Thinking about the lengths I had gone to be his father, I admitted the truth to her. “You know I had to beg for his life. I had to beg every day for her to keep him until it was too late and she had to carry full term.” I thought about my son and smiled. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I really do love it, being a father. I’m not resentful I had to give up my freedom, because honestly, I realized I wasn’t too happy with it. Things changed for me so drastically, I didn’t even realize that I’d become a father and nothing else. You were the first thing I had for myself since he was born. I guess that’s why I waited to tell you; I was being selfish.” There was nothing but silence on her end of the phone.
“Violet?”
“Can I call you right back?”
“Sure, is everything—”
When I was done sobbing into my washcloth, I waited a few extra minutes to call him back to make sure my emotions stayed in check.
This woman, who he referred to so carefully, intrigued me. What kind of a woman wouldn’t want to have a family with Rhys? I was in no place to judge and I had agreed to learn more, but I already knew I didn’t like her. And from what it looked like, she had abandoned them both.
I had to get a grip on these feelings. But in truth, when he spoke about his struggle and his love for his son, it left little room for doubt.
I shook those thoughts away and dialed him.
“Sorry, I had to use the restroom,” I said, the only decent excuse for my quick withdrawal. I was all for heavy conversation but I feared I couldn’t take much more, so I started where we left off on a light note.
“So tomorrow you and Bryce are going to cook a turkey?”
“I’m cooking one of four,” he said casually. “Thanksgiving is kind of ridiculous at my parents’.”
“Yeah, it will be the first one I’ve spent without mine, ever,” I said softly. “I wasn’t thinking about the holiday when I booked.”
“You do deserve to be there. You do deserve this break. Please tell me you are locking the house every time you go in and out?”
The worry in his voice gutted me. Fuck, I hadn’t thought about him having to worry about me, but I was touched that he was.
“I am, I promise. I actually carry mace with me everywhere. I get a little afraid sometimes, but it’s gated and I feel mostly safe here. I have a hard time some days. I’ll be honest, feeling safe was something I took for granted.”
“I’m sorry I brought it up,” he said, his voice low.
“No, I mean it’s valid. I’m in this big empty house, I didn’t think about how that would bother either of us. Honestly, I came to think about my next step, to get my shit together, but I kind of did that before I left. I’d stopped drinking as much, started working and working out,” I said, defeated. “I haven’t written one thing on my bucket list.” I sighed, getting out of the tub. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful here and I have a nice tan.”
“You ran away,” he stated firmly.
“I ran away,” I conceded. I was thankful when he let the subject drop.
“Tell me what you look like right now in the mirror.” His voice instantly put me on edge and made my pulse kick.
“Naked,” I said slowly. “You aren’t going to try to have phone sex with me, are you?”
“No, but if I was there right now...Fuck, the things I would do to that mouth and
pussy.”
I was wet, so wet, and I’d already dried myself with a towel.
“Tell me one thing please,” I said breathlessly, feeling my pulse pick up as I watched myself aroused in the mirror.
“I would open you up and lick you smoothly, but only once, from bottom to top with my whole tongue.”
My nipples peaked with that one sentence.
“Okay, a little more,” I begged.
“I would hesitate, because you would be so close to coming. I would work around your clit then plunge my tongue inside of you so you wanted it more … but you wouldn’t have time to ask because as soon as you opened wider for me, I would lick your tip so fast and then drive my fingers in, fucking you until you came hard, closing your legs around my neck. You do that, you know? You close your legs around my neck and squeeze when you come.”
“More?”
“No.” His voice was firm. “Tell me what you are doing.”
“Watching my body respond to you. Should I touch?”
“That’s for me to do. Come back, I’ll do it all in that exact order.” His voice was heated and hungry.
“I will. I just...I hate that house now, Rhys. It’s not a home anymore. It’s a graveyard of bad shit. I think I just figured that out. I’m going to sell it.”
“I’ll show you where home is.” His voice was ragged and I knew he was just as turned on as I was.
“Rhys, I need you inside me so much,” I breathed.
“Fuck, come home now,” he commanded, no longer playful.
“I am. I’m packing. I swore if I could write one thing on my bucket list, something worthy of doing before I die, then I would come home.”
“What will you write?”
“ ‘Go back to Savannah’. I’ll call you with my flight info. No more unannounced visits.”
“Violet,” he paused.
“Yes,” I said, half packed and dying to get back to him.
The Last Dance: Sexual Awakenings #3 Page 3
