by Karin Tabke
She strutted toward him as if she was a runway model. Her movement poetry in motion. His eyes raked her from head to toe then back again. His dick thickened. If she weren’t careful…
She stopped just two feet from him and leaned against the wall. “I don’t believe you.”
He contemplated the defiant set of her chin and narrowed eyes. She was a complete contradiction. Hot and cold, sexy and prudish, wanton and reserved. Just when he thought he had broken through the walls of her propriety, she ran from him. From that first time in the hotel room, when he’d fucked her until his dick hurt, to her fantasy fuck tonight, she’d been running from him. What was she so afraid of? “What’s going on in that head of yours, Liv? One minute you’re hot, the next cold, then hot again.”
She straightened, crossing her arms across her chest, and, with crystal clarity, he knew what was coming next. It always did. But tonight, she’d mean it. “You’re right. Look, I— um, I don’t know how to say this, but— I— We can’t do this anymore.”
“Because?”
“Because it’s wrong.”
“What’s wrong about it?”
She shook her head, looking for a reasonable answer, one she thought he would swallow.
“I feel— I— It’s dirty.” Her eyes stared at the floor, but her entire body flushed rosy, just like it did when she came.
He didn’t move. He wasn’t going to let her off that easy. “Look me in the eye and tell me that.”
When she shook her head, he nudged her chin up with his hand. Her dark pupils nearly eclipsed the clear blue of her iris. He resisted the urge to slide his fingers into her hair and cup the back of her head, then guide her lips to his. As he envisioned the kiss, he realized that they had not kissed. Fucked six ways to sundown, yes. But kiss? No.
He wasn’t big on make-out sessions. In many ways, he felt that was more intimate than the actual sex act, so he avoided them. But that she hadn’t demanded he kiss her bugged him. Was he really just a fuck to her?
“Dirty is the wrong word, I just feel bad after—”
Anger swept through him. If that’s how she felt— He nodded and made to turn.
She grabbed his forearm. “Is that it? You just walk away?” her voice raised several octaves.
Jesus Christ! What the hell did she want from him? She wants sex, he gave her mind blowing sex. Then she tells him it makes her feel dirty, so he tries to leave and she stops him. Vaden let out a long breath. Her eyes beseeched his. He knew what she wanted, even though she was doing her damn best to act like she didn’t want it. It was what they all wanted. A commitment. He didn’t do commitments. He didn’t know how. He let go of his anger. But if he did, he would commit to Olivia Conner. She was the kind of girl a guy could take home to his mother if he had one. A good girl who simmered just below the surface. A woman who was loyal, smart and a knockout.
“What do you want me to say, Liv? That I can’t live without you? That I want to settle down?”
“No, I—” Her cheeks reddened. Then he watched her face take on the façade of a woman taking charge of her life. “I don’t want anything from you. Not now, not ever.”
He reached out to touch her cheek. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he could see the hurt all over her.
She slapped his hand away. “Go.”
He stood for a long time staring at her, wanting to give her what she wanted but knowing he didn’t have it in him. He was broken inside. If she knew that, she wouldn’t want him. He turned and walked out of her life.
Chapter Three
Olivia pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, and closed her eyes. Her head pounded with each shrill scream that echoed in her classroom like a cannonball blast. She hadn’t been able to concentrate all day, and the kids took full advantage of that fact.
She looked at her aide Sally and motioned for her to take over. “I need to go home,” Olivia said as she grabbed her purse and hurried from the classroom. Olivia nearly ran to her car. Once inside, she sat for long minutes staring at the dashboard. Her emotions were a jumble of contradictions. Vaden spearheaded each and every one of them. Her yearning for him was more than physical. Her chest ached. Her heart hurt more than her libido. He was a drug and she, an unsuspecting junkie, was hooked hard and fast. The hardest part was, she didn’t want to kick the habit but knew she had no choice. Vaden had made it clear: he was part of her past.
She rested her forehead on the steering wheel and slowly banged it. Why did addictions feel so good when they were so bad for you?
Sitting back, she exhaled, then turned the key in the ignition and slowly drove home, wondering what the next step in her life would be. She could quit her job and travel. There was enough insurance money from Tommy’s premature death from a brain hemorrhage to last her five lifetimes. She could start her own business. Or maybe go back to school and get her law degree. She’d secretly dreamed of being a shark prosecutor. Tommy had laughed when she’d told him her secret, and he’d said she didn’t have the temperament for it. So, she’d gone for a teaching credential like he’d suggested and now hung out with six-year-olds all day.
Her ire rose. She had a backbone. She was smart. Maybe she was cut out to be a crackerjack prosecutor. And maybe she’d find out.
As soon as she put the key into the door, Olivia knew something was wrong. She pushed it open and swore up a storm. From where she stood at the end of the small hallway, she could see that her kitchen was a shambles. The rest of the house probably was as well. She knew enough not to go inside. She closed the door, got back into her car and called the cops.
“Olivia,” Detective Josiah Ames said, leading her to a foldout chair in the garage. “With nothing missing, this screams of an act of vengeance. Any idea who would do this?”
Olivia shivered. She had no clue. She looked up at Jos and, despite the fact someone had trashed her house in a fit of anger, she gave him her full attention. He had a Robert Redford-in-his-heyday quality. That rugged, blond, Harvard look. There was a time when Jos had made her feel like she was the only girl on the planet. For a two-timing-son-of-a-bitch, he’d aged well. He had the good grace to blush under her narrowed glare. “Howz the wife and kid?” she asked a little more harshly than she meant.
Josiah looked down at the floor, then answered. “Ann and I have been separated for three years.” His dark brown eyes rose to hers. “The divorce will be final next week.”
Served him right. “So much for knocking up your fiancée’s best friend on prom night, then having to marry her, huh?”
He had the grace to wince.
And she had the grace not to rub in what had been the most humiliating and painful incident of her life. It had been classic high school drama. Just two months before she was going to marry her knight in shining armor, he’d fucked her best friend. A wave of guilt washed across her conscience. Tommy had been her rebound relationship. She’d married him to spite Josiah. Tommy was no fool. He’d known, but loved her anyway. And for that, she was grateful. Their love wasn’t one of those epic romances, but it worked for them. Now Tommy was dead, Josiah was getting a divorce, and the one man she wanted most couldn’t commit to a damn doctor’s appointment much less a relationship.
Josiah touched her hand. “Liv,” he softly said. With nothing left to lose, and her anger suddenly gone, Olivia looked at him. “I’m so sorry.” His eyes told her the truth. It took him eleven years to tell her, but he was as sorry as a man could be.
She smiled, placed her hand over his, and squeezed it. “No hard feelings if you can tell me who did this to my house.”
He stood and looked over at the tech guys coming out of the kitchen. “We lifted a few prints,” the lead tech said, “We’ll see what comes up.”
Josiah turned back to her and said, “Look, you can’t stay here tonight. Why don’t you come stay at my place? I have a spare room with its own bathroom—”
Olivia was about to decline when she sensed a presence behind her. She turned to see
Vaden staring hotly at her from the edge of the open garage. Her heart dropped to her feet, and her belly buzzed as if a swarm of bees had been let loose inside of her. He was dressed in street clothes. What was he doing here, on his day off? Carefully, she kept her composure. “I couldn’t impose like that, Jos—”
He squeezed her hand and flashed his Hollywood smile. “No imposition at all. We have eleven years of catching up to do.” He looked past her to Vaden, who was dressed in snug fitting jeans, worn leather cowboy boots and a straining black T-shirt. His predatory power oozed off him in waves. Jos wasn’t unaffected. She felt tension tighten his body. “What are you doing here, Holbrook?”
Vaden ignored him and looked directly at Olivia. “Are you okay?”
She swallowed, not trusting her voice. His green eyes shimmered in controlled fury. His gaze dropped to Josiah’s hand holding hers. Her instinct was to shake it off, but the woman scorned in her stepped up to the plate. “I’m fine.” Olivia’s gaze held Vaden’s, challenging him to throw down the gauntlet. His only tell was a slight twitch in his jaw.
He nodded, turned, and left them.
Dejected, Olivia exhaled. Josiah’s fingers tightened around hers and he pulled her close to his chest. “Hey,” he said softly, nudging her chin up. “Why don’t you grab a few things and let’s get out of here. I grill a mean steak and I have a nice cab to go with it.”
She wanted to. Badly. She needed to. To feel whole, wanted, womanly. Could she find what she sought in this man’s arms? Did she want to try? He bent her arm back around her waist just like he used to do in high school, and pulled her hard against his chest. He worked out. She could feel the hard planes of his muscles through his suit. His breath was warm. His touch gentle yet confident. As a girl, she had fantasized about the two of them making love. Had yearned for it, but Olivia Grace DeMateo was a good girl. And in her world, good girls didn’t do it until they got married. Her body warmed at the thought of tossing Josiah onto her bed and having her way with him. Would he make her feel like Vaden had? Suddenly, she wanted to know.
“Let me make up for those lost years, Liv. I promise I won’t let you down again.”
His lips brushed against hers. Her body responded and, as she opened up for him, she realized, never, not once, had Vaden kissed her. She stiffened as anger, frustration and sorrow commingled in her chest. How tragic was that? They had shared everything except the simple intimacy of a kiss.
“Jos,” she said, pulling away from him. “I want to get my place cleaned up. I have a grill. Maybe you could do your chef thing here tonight?”
He smiled and smoothed a stray lock of hair from her cheek. “It’s your call, princess.”
She smiled. Princess. The endearment brought back so many memories. But his betrayal clouded the feelings.
He read her thoughts. “Look, Olivia. I was young, stupid, drunk off my ass, and pissed off at you. Ann was offering what you were holding back. I have regretted touching her every damn day of my life.” His fingers dug into her arms. “In the eleven years we were married, each time I touched her I imagined she was you.”
She doubted that. It must have shown on her face.
“It’s true, Liv.” He grimaced. “Each time I looked at her, I saw you and what I threw away. I got tired of pretending, and I wasn’t doing my son any favors either. So I left. We were separated for two years before she filed for divorce.” Josiah let go of her arms and stepped away from her. “I never stopped loving you, Liv.”
“Tommy has been gone for a year, why didn’t you contact me after he died?”
“I was afraid you’d tell me to go to hell.”
She nodded. “I would have. You broke my heart, Josiah Ames.”
“If I could take it all back, I would.”
“Jos, I— don’t know what to say, I—”
He put his fingers to her lips. “Don’t say anything. Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?”
She nodded, not knowing how she felt. All this time, he’d still loved her? While she’d resented him? Could she ever really forgive him? Did it matter?
He smiled. “I’ll be back in a few hours to help you clean up, then we’ll have some dinner and catch up, okay?”
“Okay.”
Several hours and the removal of multi-layers of print dust later, Olivia had restored order and cleanliness to most of her home. Only her guest bedroom and office needed restoration. Tomorrow. She’d called her principal earlier to let her know what had happened and that she would need a few days. She’d also told her she wouldn’t be coming back in the fall. Olivia’s mind was made up. She was going to law school. And no one was going to stop her.
When the doorbell rang, Olivia jumped. Even though it was a sultry night, she’d locked every door and window. As much as she tried not to feel as if the vandal was still inside her home, she could not shake the feeling she wasn’t alone.
“Olivia? It’s Josiah.”
She flung off the uneasiness and hurried to the door. She slid the chain free, then unlocked the deadbolt and knob lock.
“Hi,” she said brightly, pulling him into the house. Her hands shook as she turned the deadbolt.
Josiah placed his hand over hers and squeezed. “It’s okay, Liv. I’m here. You’re safe.”
She exhaled loudly and felt like a helpless female when, in reality, she wasn’t. She had a gun—two in fact—and knew how to use both. Tommy had been adamant that she learn to shoot. She was a better shot than him. She was always vigilant. And she never took chances. But just the same, she felt safer with Josiah in the house.
Olivia brushed back her unruly hair, and realized she was a disheveled mess. She’d been cleaning like a fiend for hours. It had served two purposes: it kept her mind off Vaden and she removed all vestiges of the vandal.
Josiah smiled down at her. “You look good enough to eat.”
A warm flush spattered across her skin. “Come in. I got to most of the house. I’m going to tackle the rest tomorrow.”
“I came ready to clean, Liv. Put me to work.” He held up a stuffed brown bag of groceries. “But first let’s crack open this bottle of cab and have some dinner. I haven’t eaten since a lousy bagel and coffee this morning.”
Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since her bowl of Cheerios before work. And even that she didn’t finish. She had sat there miserably drowning Cheerios as she thought of Vaden. She’d tried pushing him from her thoughts all day. And even now, with a hunk like Josiah standing in front of her, Vaden invaded her mind. It had taken her years to stop thinking of Josiah; she refused to be held hostage again by unrequited feelings. She was no longer a heartbroken schoolgirl. She was a mature woman who had a mind of her own and would live life on her terms. Even if that meant she stepped out of the narrow lines of propriety that had been drilled into her head since the day she was born. Lord knows she had with Vaden. She could with Jos. She was done being safe. For crying out loud, she bored herself. How could she expect Vaden or any man to find her fascinating if she thought of herself as exciting as a brown paper bag?
She smiled a Cheshire cat smile. Oh, but she had let the cat out of the bag with Vaden. Their trysts had been throw-down, dirty, epic sex sessions. Last night proved to her she could not only be naughty but that it was okay. No one got hurt. Well, except her heart, but that didn’t count. She needed to be more careful. Sex for the sake of sex could be good. She cocked her head and looked at Jos who stood watching her with a fascination he had never regarded her with before.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Liv?”
She laughed, feeling flirty and carefree. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He set the bag of groceries down on the granite counter. “Very much.”
“Hah! You’ll just have to use that imagination of yours.”
He pulled the bottle of wine out of the bag along with a corkscrew. Expertly, he uncorked the bottle, never once taking his gaze off her. Olivia warmed to their flirting. She liked
the power of it. With Vaden, there had been no courting. They had jumped right into the fire and never once looked back. Her nipples puckered when she wondered how it would be to be courted by a man like Vaden? Did he even know the meaning of the term?
“I know what you’re thinking now,” Josiah said, as he handed her a full glass of wine. His gaze dipped to her breasts. Her nipples poked at the thin fabric of her shirt. He brushed his knuckles softly across her left nipple. Sensation rippled through her. Olivia caught her breath. “I was thinking the same thing.” His lips lowered and brushed across hers. Her nipples tingled and tightened.
Suddenly feeling awkward, Olivia pulled away and sipped her wine.
Josiah smiled. He moved back to the counter and started to empty the bag. “Liv, I’m at your beck and call. You call the shots, I’ll eagerly follow.”
She let out a long, shaky breath. “Thank you.”
As Josiah worked his way around her kitchen, Olivia perched on a counter barstool. “How is your son taking the divorce?”
Josiah shrugged. “Like any ten-year old. He’s the reason I stayed so long. But I realized I wasn’t setting a good example of a loving husband. Ryan’s a good kid, and Ann is a good mom. Much better than I am a father.”
“I doubt that, Jos. You’ve always been great with kids.”
He nodded as he seasoned the steaks. “What’s up with Holbrook?”
Her hand shook and she almost dropped her glass. “Vaden?”
He looked pointedly at her. “Yeah.”
Olivia felt the heat rise in her cheeks, then spread down her neck to her chest. It was her tell. Tommy always said he knew when she was nervous or embarrassed. She turned as red as a tomato. “He helped me out with a few things after Tommy died.”
Josiah stared at her, his gaze sweeping across her chest. He knew, too. “What kind of things?”
She sipped her wine and looked past him. “Just... things.” Then she collected herself and looked as pointedly at him as he had her. “None-of-your-business things.”
