Union of Sin

by Eden Summers

  “But I…” She didn’t know what to say. She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she had more will to fight. “What if—”

  “No.” He gave a sad smile, announcing a myriad of emotions in one simple glance. “Please don’t fight this anymore. I can’t take it.”

  She tried to mimic his calm, and was sure she came up short. It wasn’t easy when her insides were putty and the pounding in her veins felt like the world was going to end. She needed to touch him. Just once. To feel the strength under her palm and the heat to warm her frigid soul. She reached for him, running her fingers over his chest, sinking under the hypnotizing beat of his heart.

  “I won’t stop loving you.” She continued to cling to his shirt, bowing her head to his shoulder. She closed her eyes, sinking into the rhythm of his heartbeat, wishing they were in another place and another time.

  “I know. But will you ever forgive me?”

  His whisper spread right through her, touching every nerve. She squeezed her eyes, gripping the material in her fists until her knuckles hurt. “I don’t know.”

  There was so much to forgive—the way he’d shut her out for months after their trip to Brisbane, the way he’d tied her to the bed in Vault of Sin and left her blanketed in humiliation, and most of all, the unanswered questions.

  “I’m so sorry, Cass. I wish I knew how to explain my guilt so you would understand.” His breath brushed her ear, his lips a delicate caress against her skin. “I never should’ve introduced you to all this. I should’ve been happy with what we had.”

  If only they hadn’t pushed the boundaries. If only she hadn’t enjoyed it enough to want more. If only they weren’t lost to breathtaking, heart-palpitating love, none of this would’ve happened.

  If only.

  She pulled back, her fingers still tangled in his shirt. “Your lifestyle choices were what I chose for myself too. I wanted everything you offered. I would’ve told you if I didn’t.”

  He winced, the harshness crumpling his strong features into something heartbreakingly vulnerable. “I wish…” He sighed. “I should go.”

  He moved to pull away and she increased her grip. Yes, this was goodbye, but she couldn’t lose his warmth just yet. She needed to hold him, to breathe deep of his scent so her memory never faded.

  He was beautiful. His face a picture of torture and devotion. Grief and adoration. She loved this man. Always would. And now she had to let him go.

  “Goodbye, Tate.” She leaned into him and brushed her mouth over his. The delicate sweep scorched her all the way to the tips of her toes. It was exquisite in its softness. A purely instinctual glide of lips.

  He returned her affection, sinking between her thighs, weaving a hand around her neck. She knew this was goodbye. The end. And still, she couldn’t stop herself from deepening the connection, sliding her tongue into his mouth.

  Her fingers gripped tighter on his shirt, her body unable to get close enough, her heart too far away. She adored this man. Always would. But they were over now. This was all they had left.

  She moaned against his mouth, kissing him harder. The parts of her soul that had died when he’d walked from her life reawakened with the force of a million tiny nerve explosions. He was everywhere—in her mind, in her heart, his taste on her lips, his love in her veins.

  She couldn’t get enough.

  He groaned and pulled back, snapping her from the pleasured daze. His eyes were filled with heat, his breath coming in short, shallow pants. He was on the brink, just like her. Wanting to take this further, yet needing to walk away.

  “This is the end, Cass. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

  “I know,” she spoke against his lips. “But I’m already dead inside. Make me feel alive again, one last time.”

  He closed his eyes, his forehead etched with lines of pain as he winced. When he looked at her again, she glimpsed determination. Desire. Passion so wild and unrestrained that it caught her off-guard when he slammed his lips back against hers.

  He grabbed her hips and yanked her forward to the edge of the windowsill, his body sinking between her thighs. “God, I’ll miss you.”

  She released his shirt, sinking her hands into the lengths of his hair like she’d done so many times before. “Make love to me, T.J.”

  He growled and shook his head.

  “Please.” She met his gaze, showing him the resignation she felt for their marriage. She knew it was over. He’d never let her jeopardize her future, even if she weighed up the risks and threw caution to the wind.

  “I don’t want you to think—”

  “We’re over, T.J.” She kissed the side of his lips, his cheek, his earlobe. “Show me how much you love me before you leave.”

  He froze, his spine stiff as her pulse echoed in her ears. Please don’t walk away.

  “I’ll love you forever.” The clatter of his belt was a melodic frenzy, followed by the grate of his zipper.

  She pulled at his shirt, tugged it over his head and let it fall to the floor. He was more defined than she remembered. His muscles were honed, his skin taut and inviting.

  She grappled for the waistband of his boxer briefs and yanked them forward to expose the tip of the erection begging to be freed. Her mouth watered at the sight of it. The thick, bulbous head she wanted to get her mouth around.

  “Cass…” He scrunched the material of her dress, tugging it up her thighs. “I haven’t had sex in a long time. I haven’t been with anyone but you.”

  She grinned, enjoying his pained lack of self-control.

  “You think this is funny?” he taunted, hitching a finger under the crotch of her panties. “You seem just as defenseless, pretty lady.”

  She nodded, jolting her hips toward his touch, striving for the briefest glimpse of penetration to sooth the ache in her pussy. “I’ve never wanted you inside me as much as I do right now.”

  She lifted her dress over her head and threw the material aimlessly. She didn’t care if the neighbors could see her in her underwear. Instead, she sank under the spell of lust and love her husband was bathing her in, refusing to believe this was the end.

  “You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  Her heart fluttered. “I guess you still don’t get out much.”

  “I get out just fine, thank you,” he growled, reaching around her back to unclasp her bra.

  Her breasts fell free, tingling under the admiration of his gaze. He descended upon her, taking her hardened nipple in his mouth, lavishing it with his tongue in an intricate pattern that tore a whimper from her lips.

  “I need these off.” He yanked her panties down as he moved to the other breast, paying it the same attention.

  She lifted her ass off the windowsill, one hand on the frame, the other clutching his neck while he tugged the last item of clothing down her legs to fall to the floor.

  “Spread your thighs,” he demanded. “One foot up on the sill.”

  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 seeping 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 sent, 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. There was still 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 navigated 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 af
ter 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, eight-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.