Forgotten Sweethearts: A Romance Novel

by Bender, Melissa

  Hands reached the top of the coat and peeled it slowly off my shoulders. “So sexy,” he murmured as his lips began kissing in a row down the curve of my neck and shoulder. “Sweet tasting.”

  “You should taste elsewhere,” I said with a moan, rolling my head to the side.

  “Later; need you now.”

  The clink of his belt and thump of his pants as they hit the floor, my body pushed forward and legs kicked open. Brody, with a swift and precise movement, was inside me and erratically thrust with need.

  Doing the final button up on his crisp white shirt, Brody gave me a lazy smirk. “I want to come home. Wait an hour, and I’ll be done?”

  Music to my ears, I slipped into the jeans I had brought with me because I wasn’t a woman walking around without anything on. I brought an extra bag and tossed it on the floor before he noticed. Although, he did speak to me without looking up and asking if I had come to suck his dick.

  One woman kept popping her head in every five seconds to ask if Mr. Whittaker wanted anything or needed her assistance. He would sigh and tell her no then she’d leave. Coming back with a cup of coffee and a snide remark about needing to use the gym or to even to brag about a hot date, she went on. I think she was trying to make him jealous, but it wasn’t working. He didn’t drink the coffee or ask about her dates.

  I was able to see what he was like when he really worked, listen to the calls with other businessmen or arranging meetings. He was fascinating, brilliant even.

  Standing up with a yawn, I stretched out and picked up my handbag. “I’ll meet you at the elevator, need to use the bathroom.”

  “Still leaking?” He cocked a brow as he peered over the computer screen.

  “No,” I laughed, “that’s disgusting.”

  “I fucked you twice, just making a point.”

  Case closed; I needed to use the bathroom and not to wipe out what he blew in there. My bladder was full, and a baby was growing. It was one thing I hated about being pregnant.

  As I passed her desk, I heard her snicker under her breath. “Leaving so soon?”

  Stopping, I backtracked up to her desk and gave her a smile. “Yeah, Brody wants to go pick out some furniture for the baby’s room, you know, since we had sex over and over again until his third child was growing in my stomach.”

  “There are three babies in you?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  Oh, my God… really? “No, just one, but it will be our third.”

  It was petty, but she was young and acted as if everything should be brought to her on a gold and diamond platter. She brought this bitch side out in me.

  “You’re? really?” she asked, a scowl on her gorgeous face. It actually made her seem so much uglier.

  My hands slid to the front of my stomach. “Yeah, we’re pregnant. It’s a wonderful thing.” I left her there to sit and mull over that thought.

  On my way back from the ladies’ and where Brody and I had realised, we weren’t over each other, an elder gentleman almost bumped into me as he walked out of the men’s room. With a steady hand on my back, he smiled in realisation. “Oh, Gabriella, I didn’t see you there.”

  “It’s okay,” I smiled and then realised who it was wearing a navy suit. “Oh, Hi, just going to meet Brody at the elevator.”

  Brody’s boss, Mr Paul Ward, the man who couldn’t believe his little, beautiful daughter wasn’t seducing married men. Glancing around, I made sure Brody wasn’t on his way towards the elevator just yet as I gathered the courage I needed to do this.

  I had confronted Cathy. I could do this next.

  “Can I have a quick word?” I asked, tilting my head towards the empty lunchroom.

  Eyeing me with his greying brows, he nodded. “Of course, what can I help you about? If it has to do with your husband’s hours, I’m sorry that I can’t help with that. He chooses his own time.”

  My heart was pumping a thousand miles an hour as I shook my head, closing the yellow door once he’d entered the room and followed him in. God, I hated confrontation. “Actually, it’s about Kate.”

  “Oh?” he seemed surprised.

  “I’m not trying to start up anything. But to be honest, I’m pretty pissed off.” I held my ground and sounded strong, not letting a six-feet man intimidate me with his ageing gaze. You could see that he oozed power and was a man to always get his own way. This could blow up in my face and backfire or go amazingly well. I hoped for the best. With a deep, steady breath, I finally spoke, “Brody won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to jeopardise his place in the company, but I can’t sit back and ignore it any longer.”

  His eyes turned to little slits of almonds, and his polite demeanour was gone. “I would watch your tone if I were you. I don’t take kindly to threats, Gabriella.” He was now an evil snake. Damn, I hadn’t even said anything bad yet.

  Laughing, I crossed my arms over my chest. “She calls him on the weekend more than once, leaving drunken voice mails of being able to come and blow his mind if he’s up for it if you get my drift. I suggest you make it stop.”

  “I don’t believe that,” he sighed about to stand as he waved me off. “Kate doesn’t speak that way.”

  “You will listen to me because I am pregnant. I am hormonal, and I am ten seconds away from throwing that daughter of yours through the top-floor window.” Being pregnant was such a great excuse for anything. No one really denied me much of anything. That or they didn’t want to risk the chance of upsetting me and being responsible for the tears flowing down my cheeks.

  “Gab—”

  “Do not interrupt me while I am speaking. It’s incredibly rude! You make it stop because if she offers to fuck him again, I will come in here and deal with it myself. He doesn’t need a fuck from her. He gets that from me, his wife, and I would appreciate it if you would make her respect the fact that he’s married.” I was shaking so bad, angry and tearing into him.

  Sighing he swiped his thumb over his lower lip and spoke, “I cannot control your husband’s extra hour activities. It’s clear to me that you’re jealous, and as a pregnant woman, you may be insecure about your appearance.”

  I gasped a loud snort of laughter. “You… you think he’s screwing her? She repulsed him. She’s harassing him, and it needs to end now.” When he looked more amused, that pushed me. “Actually, don’t worry about it. I have the text messages and photographs, the ones of her in disgustingly trashy lingerie. Selfies, they call them, it’s not just her face but her whole damn body along with graphic words. He saves them. Well, I made him do it for legal reasons. Instead of bringing it to your attention, which you have dismissed without a damn care, I’m going to take my balls and head on over to T & Gull. You know who they are since they’ve done legal work for you in the past. I have a friend there, and he owes me a favour for picking his daughter up from school on occasion. They will take this as sexual harassment and then go after you as his employer for not doing a damn thing about it. They would ruin you!”

  “Are you threatening me?” he asked, bewildered with a slamming fist against the table. The force was so sudden it made me jump slightly.

  Gripping my fingers into the leather chair, I leant forward and smiled, speaking low and slowly for him to understand. “You’re damn fucking right I am. Take that whore out of my husband’s office, or you’ll be in your grave and still dealing with all the litigation and trial dates, not to mention, being broke after you’re sued.”

  “Now, there’s no need to do that. I’m sure… no, I’m positive it will be fixed by the end of the day today.”

  “Good, also, my husband deserves a raise, and by raise, I mean a big fucking promotion for all the work he’s doing while you’re sitting on your ass and being blown by the secretary you think no one notices.”

  His eyes were glowering and face turning even redder. The vein pulsing in his neck was increasing. “I am a married man. You have no right, no right at all, to accuse me of such ludicrous behaviour!”

  “Th
e apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You must be so proud of Kate, taking after you.” Rolling my eyes, I headed for the door. I tossed the old man a glance, remembering the day Brody had come home and told me about sitting in a meeting for two hours while she was under there doing God knows what. “Your desk isn’t to the floor. Her grey heels are always poking out.”

  “Gabrielle,” he said with a grumble. I turned back and looked at him, almost bursting into laughter as he uttered words that were probably the most humiliating things for him to ask me. “Don’t tell my wife.”

  Needless to say, I walked out of that lunchroom with a victory smile on my face.

  Making my way towards the elevator, Brody was there and waiting. A blank stare covered his face as he leant in and placed a kiss on my cheek. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

  I wondered if he would still love me, knowing what I had just said to the man he was working for.

  “Come on, I want to go look at baby clothing.” Baby shopping makes everything better.

  When the metal doors dinged shut. My back was pinned hard against the wall from the force of his heavy body against mine. His eyes devoured me, fingers through my hair and erection pulsing against me.

  “What?” I breathed out and confused by this sudden charge of dominance from him.

  “You know…” Brody smirked with a gorgeous smile. “L'intero ufficio appena sentito che strappare il signor Ward un nuovo stronzo.” He sounded so smooth and fluent but husky and manly. Listening to him speak in Italian was like the sweetest of chocolate melting against my tongue and down my throat.

  I was too speechless from the sheer shock that my husband had just spoke full blown Italian to me to realise that he’d just told me the entire floor of offices had heard me tearing their boss a new asshole.

  All that I could say came out as a breathy moan. “Oh, baby, talk dirty to me all the time.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Yawning as I held the large hot mug of coffee clasped between my palms, I looked over at Noah and Lila who were eagerly and patiently waiting until their father walked into the room before they were allowed to start opening Christmas gifts.

  “Now?” Lila asked, yawning once more.

  They’d woken us up at 6 AM, too eager to sleep. They also decided to come and jump in the bed with us until Brody told them if they sat by the tree very quietly, they would get to open gifts before our family arrived. Hot on their heels and off they went, Brody jumped on top of me and put the Christmas cheer on my face with a Good Morning, Merry Christmas fuck.

  Walking into the living room, the colourful glow of the Christmas lights lit up the room and almost blinding me because of how early it was. “So,” he began as he set his drink on the table and walked over to the kids. “I think mama should open her present first, seeing that she’s the most beautiful woman in the room.”

  Melting my heart with more love, “Aww, you’re so sweet.”

  The doorbell sounded, and Brody stood again. Going to answer the door, he was there for a good couple of minutes before coming back into the living room, giving me a look and shaking his head in anger.

  “Wait here,” I whispered and followed him into the kitchen. “What happened?”

  “Scott just showed up,” he said quietly. “Dropping off a Christmas gift.”

  I hesitated before I asked, “What was it?”

  Reaching into his back pocket, he held out a photograph and then another. “Oh, God,” I gasped and snatched it from him. “He… just gave them over?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did you say? Did he say anything?” I whispered, unable to talk louder.

  Brody flexed his hand out and shook his head. “I reintroduced my fist to his face and told him I had nothing more to say at this point. He mentioned something about rehab, but honestly, I am too mad at him right now. If he’s getting help for the addiction of pills, then great. He won’t be allowed back until he’s made amends with you and until you feel safe around him again.”

  That made me feel a little better.

  “Dad,” Noah grumbled. “Hurry up!”

  Laughing as we were given our cue to go back to the kids, I sat on the couch and my husband on the floor. Brody just reached under the tree and pulled out three gifts, one with a card attached to it and crawled over towards where I sat. Lowering his head, he placed a kiss to my bump and then a sweet kiss landed on my lips. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

  “Merry Christmas,” I smiled. “I love you.”

  “I love you more.” He took the first small box and held it up to me. “Open it. Leave the card for last.”

  The kids enthusiastically watched as I pulled apart the red and silver paper until I was staring down at my first gift, a new camera. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. He knew I wanted to get a new one before the baby came in four months.

  “Thank you.”

  He smiled as I leant forwards and kissed him once more. We may have shared many Christmases together before, but today was different. It was our first one here in our home. Usually, we went to our parents, either for lunch and then the other for dinner. Not this year, Brody told me that he wanted to stay here, and he’d love it if I would cook lunch.

  Our parents were on the fence, and he told them that they were invited, but he wasn’t bothered if they turned up or not. It was our day, a new beginning and new traditions.

  Setting aside the camera, I picked up the second which was a larger memory card, and then I went for the smaller box, a Pandora bangle with five small charms and an infinity symbol to remind me of how much Brody loves me. There were letters B, N, L and a small heart with a light blue diamond since we were now expecting another baby boy.

  “It’s perfect,” I said as I began to swell with tears.

  “I’ll add another letter when we decide on the name,” he grinned and passed over the envelope. “Just read it and then let it sink in before you react,” he said slightly sceptical.

  “What have you done?” I asked, using my nail to peel open the top of sealed envelope.

  “You’ll see.”

  After unfolding the A4 sheet of paper, I read line after line and stared at the small photograph right down the very bottom. Looking up at him, he was busy concentrating on my expression which was confusion.

  “I thought you told the realtor to go away,” I said after a moment.

  “No, I gave her a new limit, remember? Then I told her to go and find us something better, bigger and new,” he corrected. “I just let you assume, so my surprise wasn’t spoiled.”

  My mind was going crazy. “You bought us a new house?” I couldn’t contain the grin. “That’s why you’ve been so resistant in setting up the nursery.”

  Brody nodded, and I was soon throwing my arms tightly around his neck as the kids. “I wanted something where we could have a clean state in. This house has some great memories, but they aren’t good ones, Gabby. They’re mostly fighting and us in separate rooms. You always tell me that you love this house, but I can see and feel how cold it is.”

  “You’re right.”

  He looked relieved that I was supporting him in this. “You sure?”

  “Yes. This house is exactly what you’ve just described. It doesn’t feel like our home anymore. It’s riddled with bad memories, and we started fresh again, I’ve wanted to move since we got back from our trip to the snow.” We’d been on the same page about that.

  More presents were handed out, and the kids finally dug into theirs until wrapping paper was strewn across the room in all directions. Toys were unwrapped, pulled from their boxes and each was being played with. Brody opened his gifts. The typical shoes, socks and clothes were there. I stepped it up this year and bought him a new wedding band, something more modern and suited him better than the plain gold ring. This one had a message on the inside, the date I had fallen in love with him, the same as mine. Then, I had taken the photo he took of the two of us in the snow and had it printed blac
k and white, enlarged and framed for our wall.

  “It’s going to my desk,” he smiled, leaning in and tenderly placing his lips to mine.

  In the kitchen, that’s when the heat started to kick in and test my patience. Brody had asked me last week what I wanted to cook for lunch. I wasn’t sure what to make for the family, but he cut me off and closed the recipe book. Looking me in the eye, he shook his head and spoke again, asking me, what I wanted to make.

  Well, being hungry, I wanted to eat everything.

  That led me to today, where we had more pastries than I could look at — sweet, and savoury, fruit and cheese platters, salads, cold meat and absolutely no baked vegetables at all. Christmas in Australia, with the hot sun and gorgeous day, we were having lots of fruits, and I even made my first Pavlova.

  When my mama looked in the fridge, she was blowing steam up my ass for not making traditional Christmas food. Brody was acting as a translator for Lila, who kept asking what that meant every time something had been said. My mama still refused to speak English to anyone. It was also funny that she hadn’t noticed my husband had become fluent in Italian and could understand our conversations better than ever.

  All those times I had scolded him for sitting on his phone, he’s really been learning Italian and was going to surprise me. He learnt all the dirty words first, and it made sex so much hotter when he would whisper in my ear in detail how he was going to fuck me.

  I was standing here, a stupid grin on my face, just thinking about it as my mama and sisters were snapping their fingers and spitting out demands.

  “Le patate sono di troppo morbido. Ecco, lascia fare a me.” They continue on complaining how the potatoes were too soft.

  “Gabriella, dov'è le carote?”

  “Daddy, do they have to speak in a funny language?” Lila asked, propping herself up on the dining table.

  Chuckling, he kissed the top of her head and smiled, “I know. Don’t worry. You don’t need to understand what they’re saying, baby.”