Almost Forgotten (Contemporary Erotic Romance) (The Broken Men Chronicles Book 2)

by Carey Decevito

  Is it possible that two people could come together that easily and make it last? My parents had done it. Plenty others had as well. I knew from past experience but also, my job had influenced my scepticism. Truth is, I also lacked the will to take that leap too. Go ahead, call me a coward. I doubt that I’d try and prove you wrong.

  I watched as the two recited their vows, as if they were the only ones in their backyard, despite the seventy-five or so guests present. There was something about observing the two of them that struck a chord. I wasn’t quite sure but I shook it off as quick as it hit me, rubbing the ache in my chest while I stood behind Pax, smiling like the dutiful best man that I was. Why the multiple bouts of enviousness? I don’t know. But I sure as hell didn’t like these tumultuous emotions that roiled through me.

  They danced their first dance as husband and wife. My thoughts turned to the hurdles they’d overcome in their short time together, the most recent being her miscarriage, no more than three weeks ago.

  Fuck did that phone call hurt when Paxton got a hold of me. Seeing him broken at the hands of Julie had been one thing, but my best buddy being torn apart because the life of his unborn child had been forfeited, was another.

  Hadn’t it been enough that the man had nearly lost his son to cancer? In that moment, I had questioned a lot about life and its fairness.

  I admired Paxton for the fortitude he showed his fiancée. She blamed herself for their loss. I had been the one to stand at the room’s doorway, taking in the scene before me while keeping everyone else out.

  Her tears.

  Her screams.

  Her words of failure.

  My heart broke with Alissa’s heart-wrenching cries, so much so that I got misty-eyed myself.

  Paxton hadn’t wanted to hear any of it. I doubted anyone did. I know I didn’t.

  He did the best he could at the time. Hell, he was hurting too. It had been their child, a symbol of a fresh beginning coming to a halt far too soon.

  He’d held her to his chest, refusing to let her go, kissing, cuddling, as he laid beside her on the tiny gurney.

  I stopped the doctor that tried to make his way past me. “Unless it’s a matter of life and death, and we both know it isn’t, you’re not going in there.” The man grumbled but I kept him away like all the others before him. The damn vultures could wait until Alissa had calmed down enough for them to proceed with whatever it was that they had to do. My best friend needed that time as well.

  When her crying subsided to a hushed whimpering, I watched as he tilted her face up to his. She fought to avert her gaze from him but he refused to let her hide from him.

  “How can you even look at me after this?” she asked, struggling to keep her emotions in check. “I’m unfit. I failed. Why would you marry someone who...”

  “Stop it, just stop it!” The boom to his voice made her jump in his arms. “I love you, Alissa, you hear me… you! It’s not your fault, none of it is your fault, baby.” He kissed her forehead. “You heard the doctor. There was no way of knowing this would happen. You did nothing wrong, sweetheart. It doesn’t mean we can’t try again.”

  “But I wanted that baby.” She sobbed into his chest.

  The remaining pieces of my heart had shattered as I heard Paxton say, “Me too.”

  It’s safe to say that the memory of that day, the strength that two people could share together, would always stay with me.

  Chapter 3

  At first, I didn’t notice the woman that waltzed up to me, too enthralled in the newlyweds and memories both recent and past, not to mention that feeling of envy that had consumed me for what felt like the millionth time today.

  “Nice speech,” she said and smiled down at me. “Is this seat taken?”

  I smiled at her in my typical charming way. “Help yourself, honey. Friend of the bride or groom?”

  “Bride,” she said, watching the happy couple and got comfortable in the seat next to mine. “To be honest, I was shocked to find out that she’d met someone. When she called to tell me that she was getting married, I thought she had lost her mind.”

  I laughed. “I know what you mean.”

  “Considering some of the idiots she’s dated in the past, I’m floored she took the chance at all.”

  I nodded. “He’s a great guy, he’ll treat her right.”

  “She got lucky,” the woman said. “It’s why I don’t bother with relationships.”

  I chuckled and said, “Amen to that.” Jackpot! I held out my hand. “I’m Jake, by the way.”

  She grasped it in hers and smirked. “I know.”

  “And you are?”

  “Yours… for the night,” she said and gained my full attention in the process.

  “Well,” I eyed her from top to bottom, “I think I might have to take you up on that offer…” I hung on my words so she could introduce herself.

  “Mia.”

  “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” I got up and pulled her with me so she stood. “Would you like to dance, Mia?”

  “What kind? I’d prefer horizontal, myself.” She winked.

  Christ! I laughed. “All in good time, honey, there’s no rush.”

  A few drinks and a couple of hours later, we stumbled into her hotel room, she being tipsy, and me making sure she didn’t trip and fall thanks to those heels of hers.

  Mia wasn’t wasting time. She peeled away at her clothing on her way to the bed and was left in nothing but her red lace thong as I followed, removing as much as I could of my attire on my way.

  I took in the sights and said, “Woman, you’re a wet dream come true.”

  “Shut up and fuck me, Jake.”

  Who was I to argue with her?

  Tackling her to the bed, I kissed her hard and hovered above her body, my shirt discarded to the floor, my belt loosened but I was still clad in my pants. I trailed my lips downward and nipped her jaw as she leaned back onto her elbows with a sensual hiss. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back, opening her neck for my possession.

  By the time I reached her navel and circled her belly button with my tongue, she flipped me over and began to divest me of my tuxedo pants. My briefs followed at the same time.

  “Not your first rodeo, huh?”

  “Hardly,” she said, grabbing the condom from my fingers, tearing into the packaging with her teeth and sheathing me.

  “Have I mentioned that I love a woman who knows what she wants?”

  “I kind of figured.” She gave me a wry grin.

  When the condom was on, I let her straddle my waist and position me at her entrance but that was as far as she got.

  My hands held her hips in place, preventing her from plunging down atop me. With one swift upward thrust, I pushed hard into her, pulling her down onto me. Her breath caught and she fell forward onto her hands to brace herself. The guttural moan she emitted was enough to drive me wild with lustful need and so I flipped us so I was above her.

  “Fuck, yeah!” I said into her neck and stayed still.

  “Fuck me, Jake,” she said as if the wait for movement was painful. “Fuck me, hard!”

  Sex was always great, not to mention the release at the end, explosive, but my favorite part was the variety of noises and sounds that I could get a woman to make in the throes of passion. I couldn’t care less that they screamed my name. It was the other expletives they managed: the moans, groans, grunts, whimpers, and the looks on their faces, the way their eyes changed as I plunged deep into their hot, wet pussies, taking what I needed from them as they took from me. Watching them lose control was one hell of an aphrodisiac and I was never satisfied unless I knew she was. I strived for the most intense climax and for the most-part, I succeeded at my task. Not one complaint as of yet, aside from perhaps wanting more and being denied.

  I got up to leave Mia after a three hour session between the sheets.

  “No need to rush, handsome.”

  By habit alone, I knew I needed to get the hell out of Do
dge. “I have an early morning tomorrow. I wish I could stay but I can’t.”

  “It’s Sunday, what’s so important on Sundays?”

  “Work,” I fibbed, pulled my pants up, shoved my arms in my shirt sleeves, bent over and kissed her forehead. “Thanks for tonight, gorgeous.”

  I was quick to grab my socks, shoes and tuxedo jacket and get out as she yelled, “Anytime.” The door closed behind me with a loud click.

  The next thing that was worse than having a woman spend the night was spending the night with her in a woman’s bed.

  An old couple walked out of the elevator, heading for their room as I tried to stuff my shirt down my pants and make myself look presentable. The man shook his head, smirking at me while his wife looked appalled at my state of undress. With my shoes on, I slung my jacket over my shoulder and high-tailed it home.

  By the time my head hit the satin pillow I was unable to stop pondering about the day’s events.

  Paxton and Alissa looked happy, so much so that it was almost sickening. How my best friend and his new wife made it look so worthwhile and easy, I would never know but I knew that it hadn’t been a cake-walk for either of them.

  In the midst of thinking and taking in my large home, I became aware of a void I could no longer ignore. I felt lonely. Being alone in my large home had never bothered me before, so why did it seem to all of a sudden?

  Chapter 4

  Sundays have always been my day to relax. Women were never part of the agenda. It’s always been me, myself and I and sometimes the guys, if their women were willing to part ways with them for an afternoon or evening of football, or if their jobs didn’t interfere.

  Today was one of those days where it would be me and me alone. I was glad. After two back-to-back nights of frolicking about, I needed to get my head back in the game. I didn’t like that I was relying on the attention of women more often. What was worse was that with the frequency of women came an increase in thoughts about Danica and my loneliness.

  Like an oozing sore, the pestilent thoughts I had fallen asleep to came back upon waking.

  I headed out for a run to clear my head, seeing as next to sex, it was my cure-all. Waving to a few housewives on my block as I passed, I set the pace that would lead me into a good hour’s worth of cardio.

  I slowed from a jog to a walk and rounded the corner to the coffee shop by my home, when my hour was up. A caffeine boost was needed next.

  As always, the barista served me with a smile and a lack of flirtatious subtlety when she skimmed the tips of my fingers with hers while passing my cup of Java.

  I headed out with a quick nod and made a beeline toward my posh abode. I had managed to clear my head some but the minute I slowed my pace, the thoughts I had managed to ward off during my run were there waiting for me to deal with them all over again.

  As I got to my front door, I forced those thoughts away. I had better things to do, like a full day of football, rest and relaxation. Too bad that went to hell in a hand basket by ten o’clock that night.

  With my buddy Brent’s call, last night, I walked into my office on Monday morning with a sense of unease. Suffering with breast cancer, his wife had taken a turn for the worse and I’d been tasked to take over one of his cases.

  Being ill-prepared by not having ample time to study the case didn’t sit well with me. I knew that it was a big one because Brent had said so. If handled right, this case could put me up for partnership with the firm.

  Seated in the conference room, early and waiting on the other party to arrive, I figured I’d pull out Brent’s case notes and skim through them to make sure I knew as much as possible about what I was dealing with.

  Bent over, fishing away in my briefcase for my notepad, I was greeted by a set of endless legs, tucked away in a navy pin-striped skirt.

  As your typical virile man, my hormones took over and my eyes scanned from her four inch heels, up those bare stilts that disappeared beneath the aforementioned skirt. It hugged a tight ass with hips that swayed as the woman walked toward the other end of the conference room table. I felt a twitch down below. Down boy.

  It wasn’t until I stood and looked over that I found myself looking into bright blue eyes that held me captive with their familiarity.

  Tight-lipped, she said, “Mr. Landen.” Her expression was replaced by one of confusion. “I was under the impression that we were meeting with Mr. Brent Townsend?”

  What the fuck? “Yes. Well,” I began as her counsel looked between her and me with curiosity, “Mr. Townsend has asked that I handle his caseload seeing as he’s been pulled away for a personal emergency, Miss...”

  “Actually, Mr. Landen, it’s Mrs. Spalding… for now,” she said. “Shall we get down to business?”

  It was safe to say that I felt like a complete idiot during our meeting. Combine my lack of preparedness with the old memories of our past and I can guarantee you my focus was far from sound. This case had just gotten more complicated.

  By the time our hour was up, I couldn’t high-tail it out of there fast enough. Making a beeline for my office, I told my assistant to hold my calls and turn away any visitors.

  She’s back. Damn.

  Wasn’t there a rule that protected people from having to deal with personal and business mixing together? I guess not. Then again, it’s not like Brent or my employer were aware of my personal history. Fate sure knew how to be mean.

  I sat at my desk, intent to work on this afternoon’s paperwork needed for other clients, but I wasn’t able to make much sense of anything.

  Giving up on regaining my focus, I let out a loud breath, ran my fingers through my hair and made a decision.

  I pushed the button. “Sally?”

  “Yes, sir?” I heard back from the intercom.

  “I’m taking the afternoon off. Clear my schedule for the rest of the day, I’ll be working from home.”

  “What about your twelve thirty, sir? We’ve already rescheduled him once.”

  “Call Stan and apologize. He’ll understand. Reschedule and make a reservation at that new bistro that’s just opened down the street,” I said. “I have it under good authority that Stan has a penchant for great French food.”

  “Right, sir.”

  “Thank you, Sally.”

  Stuffing the work I needed to tackle in my briefcase, I left the office, hoping for something — anything — that would divert my mind from its current thoughts. If only I could get myself out of handling Brent’s case but I knew it was too late since we were due in court on Wednesday.

  I was stuck.

  And I was far from happy about it.

  Chapter 5

  Not only was Fairfax one of my haunts to unwind after a long week, but it was also my joint of choice when I didn’t feel like being home and cooking dinner for myself. In case you’re wondering, I’m not the typical bachelor that relies on takeout for sustenance. Thanks to my mother, I can more than hold my own in a kitchen.

  I picked up my beer and swallowed a generous amount.

  Danica Withers was back in town and looking better than ever. I found myself unsettled for the lack of a better description.

  So this Bruce Spalding guy is her husband. I hadn’t a clue that she was married. I couldn’t have known, considering the day she left, I swore to forget everything about her. So much for that idea. The prospect seemed easy enough at the time. The reality… well, it’s safe to say that she still consumed my thoughts every so often.

  I always knew that old man Withers would find himself in a pickle someday with his tendency to be risky in his business dealings. I just never thought that his daughter would be the one to cause such chaos for him with her choice in a life partner.

  Someone approached the booth I was sitting in, waiting for my meal to arrive. When I looked up, there stood, none other than Danica Withers with those bright blue eyes of hers.

  Damn, but she hadn’t changed much in fifteen years. Now that I had an extra moment, I took more noti
ce. Her body had filled out in all the right places. Her tits were larger and displayed nicely in a silk camisole, covered by an open blazer and those hips that attached to those fantastic legs had gotten wider. The entire package showed that she was built just right for a night of bliss.

  I found myself thinking back to the night we lost our virginity to each other. My mouth watered.

  She cleared her throat and my attention was diverted to the unwanted guest who now sat across from me.

  “Jacob,” she said, “it’s been a long time.”

  My heart raced. Oh, this isn’t good, not good at all. Skipping all reminiscent talk, I cut straight to the point. “What is it, Nica?” I asked, realizing that I used the nickname I had given her back in high school.

  I cursed my slip of the tongue when I saw her bright smile. It was a smile that had rendered me to my knees a little more than once or twice; the one where I would have done anything for that girl — once.

  But not anymore. I forced the memories of pain to replay in my mind so I remembered why I couldn’t go there with her or anyone else.

  “I haven’t heard that nickname in ages,” she said with that sweet melodic voice of hers. “It’s really good to see you, Jacob.” She attempted to cover the top of my hand with hers but I yanked it away as if she would burn me the moment she made contact. She hesitated but continued. “How’ve you been?”

  What’s she up to? “Isn’t there somewhere else you should be?”

  She looked surprised at my flat tone but it didn’t seem to deter her. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s a little busy in here.”

  “And?”

  “And I saw you when I came in to get some dinner to bring back with me so I figured that...”

  I didn’t let her finish. Instead, I finished for her. “So you figured that you’d come over, pop a squat and shoot the shit with your soon-to-be ex-husband’s lawyer?”