by Melody Anne
Thirty minutes of running isn’t enough to burn my energy, so after making sure I’m alone, I throw off my shirt and continued to run in my sports bra and shorts. I’m overheating, but that’s good. I want to barely be able to walk when I leave this building.
My favorite workout mix plays and I sing along — completely off-key — and turn up the speed on the treadmill, setting the incline to five and pushing hard for another ten minutes. By the time I set it to a brisk walk for a cool-down, I’ve worn myself out. I don’t have the energy to lift tonight. My muscles are still sore from Thursday, so I’m not going to be too hard on myself.
After a five minute cool-down, I grab my towel and wipe my brow as I turn off the machine. I wipe my sweat from it, then turn . . . and stop in my tracks.
Kaden’s standing there.
His eyes burn me from where he leans against the door, his face taut. He isn’t supposed to be here. Only the security guards are supposed to be in the building. This is my safe place. This is where I come to unwind, to stop thinking about Kaden, to stop thinking about Mason, to stop thinking about the rest of the world.
I’m exhausted as I step off the machine, but that burn in Kaden’s eyes makes my heart thunder, makes my adrenaline pump through my veins. I want to run to him, wrap my arms around his neck, and press my sweaty body against his.
My breathing, which has just settled down, escapes me in erratic pants as I’m lost in his eyes. He pushes away from the wall and steps toward me with purpose. He’s on a mission, and it’s up to me to stop him. My throat closes. I can’t utter a sound.
“Say something if you don’t want me to kiss you,” he says, his voice low and gravely. He’s barely in control of himself. I don’t know what to do.
He stops in front of me and I finally inhale, his scent of musk and sweat the sweetest thing I’ve ever smelled. I bite my lip as I try to keep from hyperventilating. I want his arms to wrap around me, want him to take the choice from me.
“You are so fucking hot,” he growls. He reaches out, his arm snaking around my back and pulling me against his body.
“I’m sweaty,” I finally say, worried about his expensive custom-made suit.
He raises a brow, his lip turning up the slightest bit, his eyes darkening to almost black slits.
“Hell yes, you are,” he says, his voice so low it travels through me, making my core pulse. He pushes his hips forward, and there’s no mistaking the large bulge pressing against me.
He wants me and he isn’t afraid to show it. I feel sexy and beautiful, even though I have to look an utter wreck. I want him. I don’t care if it’s wrong.
Do I decide to do it or not? One second I’m standing, and the next my arms reach up, wrapping around his neck, just like I’ve pictured myself doing a thousand times.
It’s all the incentive he needs. His mouth crashes down against mine. His kiss is nothing like I imagined it to be. And trust me, I have imagined it so many times I should be ashamed of myself. His lips are firm and demanding, but they’re also incredibly giving. He doesn’t give me a chance to catch my breath as he consumes me, forcing my mouth open, slipping his tongue inside and taking what he wants.
He lifts me from the ground, and I realize we’re moving, as if I’m floating through air. His lips don’t leave mine as he carries me to the men’s locker room then through a door that leads to his office. My fingers tangle in his hair as he deepens the kiss, his hands gripping my hips.
He sits on his plush couch, pulling me onto his lap as he continues ravishing my mouth. I not only let him, but I kiss him back, pressure building inside me to the point I’m about to burst.
His hand slips around my slick body and my stomach trembles beneath his touch. Then his fingers slide over my breast and squeeze. I pull back and cry out as my core pulses and my nipples throb.
Both of us are breathing heavily as I sit on him, his erection pulsing against my core, wanting me to strip away our clothes and allow him to sink deep inside me.
He doesn’t pull me back to him. His eyes are dilated and dark, his breathing uneven, but he sits here, leaving this decision to me. I close my eyes, unable to look at him.
“I can’t do this,” I say, apology in my voice.
He stiffens as he moves his hand back down my body and squeezes my hips. He knows he can convince me to make love to him. We both know it won’t take much to push me over the edge. I want him as much as he wants me.
“You can, but I understand why you won’t,” he says. There’s resignation in his voice.
I want to lean forward, want to rest my head on his shoulder. But if I do, I won’t leave him. I’ll do something I’ll most certainly regret. He lets me go when I tug against his hold. My legs are barely able to hold me up as I take a few steps away from him. I’m afraid they’ll buckle and send me sprawling to the floor. But they hold me. The door from the gym is still open. I move to it.
I don’t turn. “I’m sorry,” I say again.
“I’m right here, Miranda. I’m going to always be right here,” he says, the words coming out as a promise. I can’t turn around and look at him. I’m too afraid of what I’ll do.
“I can’t be with you,” I say. Am I trying to convince him or am I trying to convince myself?
“You will be. I have no doubt,” he says. The confidence that turns me on is back in his voice. I’m too afraid he’s right to argue with him.
Instead I slip away like the coward I am.
I quickly throw my sweats and sweatshirt on and leave the building, deciding to take the stairs. I’ve punished my legs enough, but I’m afraid to try the elevator. If I run into Kaden again, I don’t think I’ll have the strength to keep saying no. After a three-day weekend I’ll be stronger. But tonight I certainly am not strong enough.
I don’t see him as I leave, and luckily I don’t have to wait long for the bus. On the ride home I’m consumed with guilt. I cheated on my husband. It may have stopped with a kiss, but that’s cheating. It doesn’t matter that Mason hasn’t been kissing me, making love to me, giving me any attention. I still cheated.
I should go home and tell my husband it’s over, things aren’t working out between us. But as I get off the bus and walk to my house, I decide not to do that. I don’t know why.
I’m glad he’s nowhere to be found. I can’t face him after what I’ve done. I don’t try to call him. And I don’t wonder where he is. I go straight into the bathroom and shower for a very long time.
I don’t sleep much that night . . . and my husband never joins me.
Chapter Seventeen
Then
The night lingered, and by the time Mason carried me from the wedding reception, I giggled with girlish delight as he lifted me at the doors of the vineyard where we’d held our reception. He walked down the steps and our friends and family gleefully threw birdseed in the air, calling out their good wishes — and a few lewd comments.
I didn’t care. It was magical. I was the center of the world that night, and Mason was right there with me. I couldn’t imagine feeling anything other than love for the man who gave me everything I ever wanted.
We didn’t see anything from the back of the limo on our ride through town. The only thing that pulled us apart was a tap on the window before the door opened. I blushed as the driver held it.
Mason thanked him then made me laugh again as he quickly swept me into his arms. There were flowers and white balloons lining our walkway and a sign that read just married in beautiful teal and grey lettering.
“This is real, isn’t it?” I whispered in awe. “This is us as husband and wife, entering our house together.” My voice hushed. I couldn’t believe how my life was turning out. Me. The girl who never had anything she didn’t work dang hard for. Now I had a husband, a house, and a beautiful two-carat diamond, proving it was all real. We were young, but it was real.
“This is just the beginning,” he said.
He managed to open the door without setting me down and walked across the threshold. I truly felt our lives were just beginning. I’d been with him for three years, but this was different. We wouldn’t have to be apart anymore. We wouldn’t have to wonder if we were meant to be together. We were together and we’d stay together. We were husband and wife.
Mason didn’t stop as he made his way down the hallway. Flameless candles glowed on the floor, and I could see rose petals strewn about. He’d gone all out to make this night special. We weren’t leaving for our Hawaiian honeymoon until the next day. I was glad. It would be terrible to fly all night after such an eventful day. I didn’t want to wait that long to make love to my husband.
“When did you have time to do all of this?” I asked as he stepped into the bedroom. What appeared to be at least six-dozen roses were scattered across the bed, and a gorgeous bridal see-through negligee rested on top.
“It doesn’t take me nearly as much time as you to get ready,” he said with laughter.
I attempted a glare. “Are you saying I need a lot of time to be pretty?” I asked. He laughed again.
“You have such a natural beauty it doesn’t take anything to get you ready.” He grinned, expecting praise.
“You’re a smart man,” I assured him.
I never got into that beautiful lingerie. I was slightly bummed about that. But I could wear it later. We made love, ate, made love again, snoozed a little, and made love again. Neither of us were able to get enough of each other.
Standing in that church exchanging vows had made our relationship much more special than it had ever been. He wasn’t just my boyfriend anymore. He was my husband.
“I love you, my husband.” I heard how the word sounded on my tongue. It seemed foreign and made me giggle.
The passion in his eyes as he looked at me took the laughter from my voice. It sobered me right up. I wanted him to look at me like that forever. I couldn’t imagine anything that could make him stop.
“You will always be mine, my wife,” he said, the words a promise.
We fell against each other again as the sun rose in the sky. The world was spinning, unaware, as we started our journey. We missed our flight, but we didn’t care. We rescheduled and stayed in bed for eighteen hours, touching, laughing, loving.
If I could have frozen that moment in time I would have. If I could feel that passion toward him again, I would give a body part. I love him still, but I don’t think I love him enough — I don’t think he loves me enough either.
Chapter Eighteen
Now
It’s been a month since my passionate kiss with Kaden. A full month since we nearly consumed each other. I was correct though. After a three-day weekend, I’ve had plenty of time to realize I made a mistake, plenty of time to choose the kind of person I want to be and the kind of life I want to live. I walk into the offices feeling stronger.
If I miss a morning workout, I don’t do another night one. I may be stronger, but I’m also not going to test my limits. It’s more difficult to resist temptation when darkness falls. I wonder why. Maybe it’s a different pull in the air, less oxygen, or maybe it’s exhaustion. Who knows? I know better than to tempt fate though.
I see Kaden the very next day, and I can’t read the expression in his eyes. But he must be able to read mine. Because I see disappointment flash in his eyes, and I almost feel guilty. I have to remind myself I’m doing nothing wrong by not being with him. It’s wrong if I cave in to my desires and take what isn’t mine to take.
My husband comes home Saturday morning, apologizing profusely, saying his phone died, and he was out with Tony. They’d drunk too much so he crashed in his spare room. There’s no reason for me to not believe him. There’s a part of me that wants it to be a lie, wants to think he was off with some woman so I won’t feel as guilty as I do.
That part of me wants to check his story with Tony. But even if Mason wasn’t there, Tony will cover for him. They’re best friends, and they’ll die for each other. I don’t ask anyway, not because I fear a lie, but because, if I can’t trust what my husband says to me, our marriage truly is over. I’m not ready to admit that. I don’t believe it is, but I don’t know why.
One day melts into the next, and the burdens I carry begin to lift. Kaden is gone more often than he’s here. I always know when he’s in the offices. His presence is impossible to miss. I swear he changes the very air with his existence. He’s a man the world revolves around. I wonder what it’s like to be him.
It won’t take long for a person to be consumed by him, to lose every single piece of themselves while he grows stronger. I don’t need that in my life. The sad thing is I still dream about him, I still wonder. I don’t know when that will stop.
Things are slightly better at home. I wonder if Mason realizes I’m on the line about what to do. I wonder if he wants to fix our marriage. We don’t talk about it. We still don’t make love very often, but we share meals and tell each other how our days went. It’s all so . . . so . . . I don’t know, Leave it to Beaver maybe.
Each day I look in the mirror and feel better about myself. The sexual frustration I feel does incredible things to my body. I gaze in the mirror and see two perfect lines on my stomach, see where my hips jut out in a nice curve. That inch I wanted to lose on my thighs is gone, and my calves have shape, making me feel like a million bucks in a pair of heels.
Even with these changes, Mason isn’t interested in lovemaking. I’m beginning to think it really isn’t about me. Yes, we do it sometimes, and yes he kisses me nearly daily, but it’s that awful obligatory kiss, not a passionate one — not like the one I shared with Kaden. That kiss told me exactly how much he wants me. That kiss made me feel as if I’m the only woman in the world.
We’ve had one more meeting since the last one, and tonight we’re having another. I’m more confident as I step into the blue room. This time I wait, not wanting to be alone with Kaden. I know he won’t push me, won’t do anything to make me feel uncomfortable — at least not on purpose.
The thing is, though, just being in his presence makes me feel things I don’t want to feel. It’s hard enough to be around him in a crowded room. To be alone with him is nearly impossible. I’ve managed to avoid it for quite some time.
He’s there when I walk in. As if he can sense me as much as I sense him, his head turns, his eyes grasping onto mine. I still for a moment lost in the hunger of that gaze. It feels like an eternity though it can’t be more than a second or two.
I put my head down and make my way to my seat. If anyone witnesses the look between us they’ll assume something is going on. So far I haven’t heard a single peep about our kiss. I think we got away with it. I don’t know if Kaden bribed the security guards, or if no one caught anything, not even on camera. Kaden says there are no cameras in the gym to protect everyone’s privacy. There certainly were none in the locker rooms, and of course none are in his office, but I still worried about it for days.
The meeting begins and I look at him as he speaks, without appearing as if I’m staring. Everyone looks at him. And while his eyes rest on me often, it’s no more than he looks at the others. There’s an intensity when his eyes meet mine that everyone must see. But no one seems to notice.
I speak a few times and have to stop myself from fidgeting in my seat when all attention is on me. I speak quietly at first, then gain more confidence in what I say as I see the positive looks on people’s faces. They like my contribution. It makes me feel on top of the world.
“That’s great, Miranda,” Dell says, a senior VP. I give him a dazzling smile.
“I agree, Dell. Miranda, you’ll come on the Vegas trip,” Kaden says.
My heart stops for at least two seconds. I worry I’m about to have a heart attack. I look at him, feeling the color wash from my face.
>
“What?” I ask, the word barely a whisper. Maybe I heard wrong.
“This is your idea, and I think you’ve earned the right to present it,” he tells me.
I gulp. There’s a round of applause. No one seems jealous. More importantly no one appears as if I’m getting a special favor or there’s some sort of devious objective to accompanying Kaden on this trip. Still, I’m scared. Not scared of Kaden. I’ll never be afraid of him. I’m scared of what I might do if I go on this trip. If I let my defenses down for even a minute.
“How many people are going?” I ask.
Kaden rattled off a list of names. I let out the breath I’ve been holding and slowly feel color return to my cheeks. Half a dozen people are coming along. We aren’t going to be alone. I can handle this. I’ll probably not even see him while there. He doesn’t need to be with his employees while they are pitching ideas. He’ll be off with the other big wigs getting wined and dined.
I smile. “Thank you, Sir. That sounds wonderful,” I say, actually meaning the words.
The meeting breaks up after that and Kaden calls out to me as people begin leaving the room. It’s nearly midnight. I hadn’t felt the time pass as we sat around the table, ideas flying, excitement brewing. There’s no work tomorrow. He gave us the day off.
As the room empties I stand at the back of my chair and look longingly at the door. A few people say a couple more words to Kaden then quickly hightail it from the room. I stay right where I am, gripping the back of the chair with white fingers. I might fall over if I let go.
“Yes, Sir?” I finally say when I can speak.
