by Eden Summers
Her core clenched at his command. “I’m not as flexible as I used to be.”
“Sure you are. You just need the temptation of an orgasm to test yourself.”
There he was, the man who pushed her boundaries. The one who didn’t take no for an answer when it came to pleasure. She tilted her hips and lifted one foot to let it rest on the windowsill, baring herself completely.
He stepped back, taking in the sight of her, his chest rising and falling with fevered breaths. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
He sank to his knees, tearing a gasp from her throat as he roughly wove his arms around her legs and lowered his head between her thighs. He wasn’t timid. He wasn’t kind. He devoured her, his tongue lapping her sex and parting her pussy lips to taste her arousal.
She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the sweep of his mouth, the rough graze of stubble against her skin. His grip tightened, the dominant grasp of his hands on her thighs adding to the ease in which she submitted to him.
She was at his mercy. A mere leaf up against the harshest northern wind.
“T.J.” She reached out a hand, searching for stability and grasping nothing but air. Her pussy was throbbing. Deep down inside her, every nerve was pulsing, poised, waiting for that next brief swipe of his tongue over her clit.
Then he stopped, leaving her panting, her lungs threatening to explode as he stood and shucked his jeans. The remains of his clothes fell to the floor at his feet. He was glorious. His chest heaving, his eyes feral. He appraised her again, taking his time while his cock pulsed against the slight patch of hair leading to his naval.
“Having second thoughts?” She cocked a brow and swallowed over the dryness in her throat.
“Actually.” He cleared his throat. “I’m devoid of thought. Your beauty makes it hard to think.”
She smiled and leaned forward, swinging her arm around his neck to pull him against her body. There was the briefest moment as he lowered to kiss her, mere seconds when their passion-filled gazes collided, that their connection flung her into the past.
This was perfection.
Bliss on every level, emotional and physical.
She kissed him, hard, and moaned at the taste of her pleasure on his lips. The sun beat down on her back, but it was his chest, the skin radiating with heat that warmed her from the inside out.
She needed more of him. She needed everything.
“I have to have you.” Her ass was poised on the edge of the windowsill, his erection rubbing against her pussy.
He slid his hand between them, positioning his cock at her entrance. The briefest glide of his length over her sex made her whimper. The memories of what he could do to her already had her poised on the brink of orgasm.
He paused, no doubt trying to build anticipation she was already too aroused to appreciate, before he thrust into her, his shaft stretching muscles that hadn’t been used in a long time.
“Jesus.” His voice was guttural. “There’ll never be anyone else for me. Nobody can compare—”
“Shh.” She placed a finger on his mouth and savored the way he closed his eyes at her touch. With the tip of her finger, she rubbed his lower lip and sucked in a breath when he sank his teeth into her nail.
“Nobody.” He blinked down at her, the rhythmic movement of his hips now demanding.
She nodded, becoming breathless as one of his large hands cradled her head, the other gripping her hip. He leaned his forehead against hers, holding her gaze as he continued to make love to her. With a rhythm perfected over time, he undulated inside her. Forward, back, forward, back, each thrust grinding harder.
Her pleasure spun out of control, building with intensity she couldn’t deny. She clung to him, gripping his broad shoulder, clutching at his hair. A cry escaped her lungs as her orgasm hit—one of pleasure and despair. She was soaring, at the high of all highs, but on the other side was grief. She could already feel it seeping in—the anguish, the loneliness.
His thrusts became harsh, his guttural groan announcing his release. She would never forget the way he looked, his eyes riveted on hers, every flicker of his thoughts showing through the emotion in his features.
Goodbye, T.J.
She placed a palm against his stubbled cheek and rocked her pelvis harder, enjoying the last diluted pulse of euphoria before it was gone forever. Slowly, he stilled, his hips no longer moving, his length buried deep inside her.
She savored his scent, his beauty, and was thankful for this one last moment together. All that was left was to move forward.
“Thank you.” She wasn’t referring to the pleasure. Her appreciation was for how they would end this—with love instead of hate.
He nodded and slid his arms around her waist to hold her close.
She wanted to remain like this forever. To continue to fight for what they had.
If only she could. He’d never give her the option.
Unfortunately, she knew his mind was made up. There was no going back. She placed her forehead against his, rubbing the pad of her thumb over masculine skin she would never lose the need to touch.
“T.J.” She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
Chapter Sixteen
One week later.
Cassie was back to packing boxes. She’d found more of T.J.’s belongings in the cupboards of the spare bedroom. Then more in the home office. She hadn’t thought to clean out his business files or disconnect his emails from the computer until now…when her mind was finally accepting her fate.
T.J. had already changed his email password. The software would no longer download new mail. But it didn’t make the old messages disappear. There were still business emails in the inbox, a sent box full of his mail, along with messages in the deleted folder.
They needed to go. Everything needed to go.
With a glass of wine in hand, she delved through his past, making sure she wasn’t deleting anything important before permanently removing them all one by one. She tried to pretend his name wasn’t comforting. That the professional and gentlemanly way he responded to clients didn’t make her heart ache. She pretended until her head was buzzing with alcohol and her stomach grumbled for food.
Business email—delete. Business email—delete. Spam—delete. Business email—delete. Sports subscription—delete. Private message… She clicked on the latter, the subject—Private and Confidential— piquing her interest.
Thank you for your email, Scott.
I’m sorry it’s taken hours to reply. I’ll be entirely honest and say I feel responsible for the young woman’s situation.
I’d like to thank you for the files you prepared and the links you sent. I agree there is no longer a need for your services now that the man is in custody, however, before you send me the final invoice for the work completed, I’d like you to investigate whether or not I could financially compensate this woman without a trail leading back to me.
I would be grateful for any information on this matter, and as usual, your discretion is appreciated.
Tate Jackson
Cassie placed her wine glass on the table and stared blankly at the screen. A shiver of dread inched down her spine and she couldn’t deny the jealousy pooling in her stomach. Was this the information she needed to prove there was another woman? Was the compensation for a child?
She scrolled lower, hoping to read Scott’s original email below T.J.’s text. Nothing was there. Shit. She pressed print on the cryptic message and then searched for more mail sent to Scott’s address. Nothing. If there was any other mail sent to that address, T.J. had done his best to hide it.
Her heart thumped harder, the buzz of intoxication dying under fear. She’d ended her relationship with T.J. on a bittersweet note. The only way she slept at night was knowing he still loved her. She could hold a tiny glimmer of hope that one day he would wake up and realize his mistake. Only now, his claims of guilt had a different context.
She naviga
ted to the deleted folder, searched for Scott’s name. Again, nothing. There were no more emails to or from this man.
“Damn it.” She couldn’t call T.J. and ask about it. They were done. Over. She had to find more information somewhere else.
Files and links.
There had to be an internet trail. Or documents on the computer somewhere. She opened an internet browser, clicked on History and scrolled all the way back to the date on the email.
Six months ago.
She straightened, her breaths coming hard and fast. This had something to do with T.J. moving out. She knew it did. There was no evidence yet, nothing to cement her assumption. It was the ache in her bones that told her the truth.
She clutched the wine glass, took sip after sip until the website links on screen aligned with the date in the email. There were only two, with the preview text on both linking to the same news site.
Her hand shook as she clicked the first website address. Then everything in her stomach threatened to revolt when a familiar man came on screen. Haunted blue eyes, a sharp nose and oil-slicked hair. The glass slid from her hand, the base connecting with the desk and then toppling to the floor.
She couldn’t see straight. Couldn’t think. There were only memories, vivid recollections, as she blinked her eyes to focus.
Serial Rapist Back Behind Bars.
She held her breath and skimmed the article, her gaze catching on caustic words like rape, brutal, hospitalized, forty-year sentence. She pushed from the chair, stumbled back and covered her mouth to fight the nausea creeping up her throat.
Nothing could stop the onslaught assailing her. Tears fell without her permission. Her chest threatened to explode. A woman had been raped. An innocent young woman had had her life ruined by the same man who’d assaulted Cassie, and it had happened only six months ago.
She stumbled from the room and ran down the hall. Her feet stumbled as she shoved past the bathroom door to lose the contents of her stomach in a violent purge.
T.J. had known. He’d known for over six months.
Six months. Since the day he left.
“Oh, God.” She retched again and closed her eyes as the tears continued to fall.
The divorce made sense now. Everything made sense with torturous clarity. The devastation of their marriage was her fault. Not only that, but a woman had been raped because Cassie hadn’t gone to the police.
She leaned back against the bathroom wall and let the sobs take over. Time passed in the measure of tears. She didn’t know how long she sat there, wasn’t sure when the sun set and darkness seeped in.
The phone had trilled its sterile call more than once. The television still mumbled from the main room, and everything inside her ached. She wasn’t sure what made her more emotional—the woman whose rape could’ve been prevented, the years of marriage that could’ve been saved, or the secrets T.J. had kept from her.
“Cassie,” his voice called in her mind.
She winced through the delirium and cried a little more. She didn’t deny the madness. She deserved it, and so much more.
“Cassie.”
This time, she frowned and slowly moved to her feet. His voice wasn’t a dream. He was here, unlocking her front door and stepping into her nightmare.
“Cassie.” T.J. shoved into the house, his heart pounding. He ran for the hall and pulled up short at the sight of her in the fading light. Her hair was a mess, her eyes bloodshot and skin pale. “What’s wrong?”
She blinked up at him, her forehead creasing. “What are you doing here?”
“Jan called.” He held out a hand, like he was creeping toward a frightened child. She looked fragile. Breakable. “She said she could hear you crying but you wouldn’t answer the door.”
Cassie blinked and shook her head. “I didn’t hear it.” Her voice wasn’t even the same. It was lifeless. Numb.
“Cassie…” He took another step, needing to fix whatever was broken. After sleeping with her last week, he’d vowed to stay away, but as soon as Jan called, he’d been in the car, frantic as hell to get to her side. This was what he’d feared would happen, that he would walk away to protect her but not know how she coped while they lived separate lives. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She frowned at him, anger creeping into her expression. “You knew.” Her chest rose and fell with harsh breaths. “You knew and you didn’t tell me.” She stepped toward him, glaring. “You knew.” She shoved at his chest. “And you kept me in the dark.”
“Cassie.” He retreated, bumping into the wall as he slid backward. “What did I know?”
She gave a delirious laugh. “Everything.” She shoved again, and a tear fell down her pale cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice was a plea. “I deserved to know what I’d done.”
His throat closed over. “You haven’t done anything, sweetheart.”
Her face crumpled as she slammed her fists into his chest and sobbed. “I ruined all our lives.” She sucked in a manic breath. “A woman was raped.”
Everything inside him died. For a second, he stared at her. At the destruction he’d tried to avoid. At the pain he couldn’t stand to inflict. He yanked her to his chest and closed his eyes to stem his own tears.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, holding her tightly while her body shook. “It’s not your fault.”
It was his. It had started years ago, when he’d began to push the boundaries. Love required spontaneity, but he’d gone too far. Their marriage had been perfect, and he’d ruined it with the continuous desire to strive for more excitement. He’d driven her to that club. He’d held her hand as they walked through the door. And he hadn’t yanked her out of there when he’d discovered it was less than worthy of their attendance.
She’d been his responsibility, and in return, he was to blame for her suffering.
“Did you give money to the woman?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“No.” He’d tried hard to cover his tracks, to delete phone logs and emails, but Cassie must’ve found a message from the investigator. Yet another mistake he’d made. “I wanted to. But the possibility of upsetting her because she didn’t know where the funds came from made me rethink the idea.”
Her face contorted in pain and she sucked in a breath. “Is she okay though? I mean…is she…does she have people to support her?”
No. “Yes.” Honestly, he had no clue. He couldn’t bring himself to snoop. He wouldn’t risk scaring her if she found out an investigator was following her. So, he’d made his final payment to Scott six months ago and tried to leave it behind him.
She pushed back from his chest, scrutinizing him. “Why don’t I believe you?”
He winced. There were no words, only the confirmation in Cassie’s eyes that told him she hated what he’d done.
“You should’ve told me.” She shrugged off his touch and moved out of reach. “How could you keep this from me?”
“Because I didn’t want to see you go through this.”
“You withheld information of a rape, and the entire reason for our divorce, because you can’t handle my tears?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I mean you don’t deserve this. This isn’t your guilt to bear. It’s mine.”
“So, I wasn’t responsible for telling the police of a crime this man committed?” Her words were filled with venom. “I couldn’t have changed that woman’s future if I’d pressed charges against her rapist well before she was raped? He could’ve been in jail sooner.”
“You never would’ve been in that club if it wasn’t for me.” He got in her face, needing her to listen to the truth. “You wouldn’t have been attacked, Cassie. There never would’ve been a cause for us to fall apart, and you wouldn’t have even known of this man’s existence. My decisions led to this. Not yours.”
“You’re wrong.” She glared at him, her puffy eyes filled with contempt. “I want you to leave.”
“I tried to save you from this, Cass.”
“I�
��m a grown woman.” Her voice rumbled off the walls. “I take responsibility for my own mistakes.”
“Yes. But this mistake wasn’t yours. It was his and mine.”
“Get out.” Her voice held less venom this time. “Just go, T.J.” Her shoulders slumped, all the fight and fury vanishing.
“Cass, please. This isn’t your fault. You aren’t to blame.”
“No?” She raised a brow. “Then why keep it from me? Why end our marriage if not because you’re disgusted by my actions?”
“Why?” She knew so much, yet so little. “Because I no longer deserved to kiss you when there were secrets between us. I couldn’t stand to look at you knowing I withheld the truth, and I couldn’t sleep in our bed when I kept thinking that woman could’ve easily been you. I’ve told you all along, my guilt made it hard to be close to you.”
“Well, your guilt is misguided. And to think you see me as someone weak and incapable of making my own decisions disgusts me.” She glanced away and sighed. “I don’t know who you see when you look at me, T.J., but it’s definitely not the woman I am.”
“I know you.” He knew her better than himself. She was beautiful. Kind. Nurturing. Above all, she had a heart that felt the pain of others far worse than her own.
“You don’t.” She shook her head and walked away. “You don’t believe in my strength. You don’t think I’m capable of making my own decisions. So, I guess this divorce is for the best after all. I finally agree we’re better apart.”
“You don’t mean that.” She was in shock. Getting over this news would be the hardest struggle she’d had to endure, and he couldn’t stand to let her face it on her own. “Let me stay with you a while.”
“No.” She stopped at the end of the hall, her breathtaking silhouette making his chest ache. “All those nights I wished you were here, holding me. Now I’m thankful I’m not stuck in a toxic marriage.” She strode out of view, taking his heart with her. “Make sure you lock the door on the way out.”
