by Marilyn Lee
I shrugged, annoyed that he never did what I wanted or expected him to.
"And just so we're clear, you didn't ask who I was sleeping with because you're not the one who got her ass kicked to the damned curb, Sherlyn!"
Part of me wanted to believe he really cared, but he seemed more angry than hurt. "Yes, I ended things but we both know you're angry because I beat you to the punch."
He frowned. "Is that what you think?"
"It's what I know," I countered.
He shook his head and stalked across the room to stare out the living room window. "I don't know where you get your information from, but I was not going to end our relationship."
"Yes, you were!"
"No, I wasn't."
I shook my head, confused by his insistence. "After we had unprotected sex..."
He turned to look at me. "What?"
Recalling the feel of his bare cock pushing deep into my pussy made me hot and made coherent thought difficult. I had to take a moment to push the memory away before I could trust my voice to stay level. "You turned dark and so cold, I almost felt I was in danger of getting frostbite each time you touched me."
His nostrils flared but he remained silent.
"I had to end it before you did," I insisted.
He stalked across the room to stare down at me. Even though he didn't touch me, I felt surrounded by his sheer masculinity. "Even though our relationship was far from ideal, I was not going to leave you, Sherlyn."
"You were!"
"I wasn't."
For one painful moment, I believed him and felt overwhelmed by the thought that I might have ended our fantasy relationship because I'd misunderstood him or misread his intentions. Then I gave myself a mental shake. Had that been true and had he felt a quarter of what I felt for him, he would have made an effort to change my mind. He hadn't.
I shrugged. "It doesn't really make a difference now."
"Why the hell doesn't it, Sherlyn?"
"Because it needed to end."
He shook his head. "Why the hell did it need to end after our having waited so long for it to begin? Things were good between us."
His insistence that things had been good between us only minutes after calling our brief relationship less than ideal didn't make much sense but still hurt. I swallowed a lump of emotion. "Yes. Physically, things were good between us for a while. But only for a while and emotionally, we were never any good together."
He compressed his fingers and gripped my arms. "Says who?"
"Says my heart," I snapped and jerked away from him. "The same heart that you chipped at, cracked, and finally shattered every time I entrusted it to you! That's who!"
He inhaled slowly and shook his head. "How the hell can you not know that I never meant to hurt you, Sherlyn?"
"Despite your intentions, you always manage to hurt me, Thomas."
"That was the last thing I wanted and the thing I tried so hard not to do."
I shrugged, shaking my head.
He stared at me. "What does that mean?"
"It's over."
"So you're not interested in giving it another try?"
"No. I'm not," I lied, even as my heart shouted hell yes.
"Because of Reddorn?"
"How many times do I have to tell you I'm not dating him before you believe me?"
"He kissed you with the confidence of a man who believes otherwise and one who's done it before."
"Janine is interested in him."
"Obviously the feeling isn't mutual or he wouldn't have kissed you the way he did."
"Look, Darkwater—"
"Don't you tell me he's never kissed you before and expect me to believe it. We both know he has."
"So?"
"What I want to know is how much more he's done besides kiss you."
Damn him. "I’m not dating him or you."
"Meaning what? That you slept with him?"
"Meaning I really don't want to discuss this or anything else with you, Darkwater."
He sucked in a breath. "I see. So you slept with him."
I shrugged. "That's none of your business."
"Then I won't waste anymore of your time."
"What?" He was bailing on me again?
"Walk me to the door."
As before, he didn't intend to do a damned thing to make me feel as if I or a relationship with me was worth fighting for. Confused by my conflicted emotions, I followed him to the door.
When he turned and stared at my mouth, I knew what he wanted.
Even though I wanted it too, as he bent his head, I shook mine. "No, Darkwater."
"Yes, Drake."
"Don't touch me."
He clamped a hand on the back of my neck. "If you were going to tell anyone not to touch you, it should have been that damned Johnny-come-lately Reddorn. Not me." He brushed his mouth against my ear, sending a shiver through me. "Not after I waited years for the privilege of doing more than touching you."
For the privilege? Did he really feel that way? I stared up at him, my heart racing. Lord, I wanted to believe he meant what he said, but how could I when he'd never done a single damn thing to make me feel as if I were worth a little effort to keep?
Even though I knew I meant no more to him than I had before, I couldn't deny my hunger and need for him was as strong, if not stronger than it had been before. I wanted him then and I wanted him now.
When he bent his head for the second time, I lifted my chin with my lips slightly parted.
"You belong to me."
I inhaled quickly, my heart racing at the passionate intensity I heard in his voice. "Darkwater—"
"Hell will ice over before I let him or anyone else take you from me again," he whispered seconds before his warm, insistent lips pressed against mine.
A shock of desire and need overwhelmed me at the touch of his lips. That first taste of his lips in weeks felt almost as powerful as the first time he'd kissed me. Then, as now, his kiss surpassed my expectations. Don had changed my world and given me a level of confidence in my ability to attract the opposite sex I'd never lost. Shane's passion had revved me up to a fever pitch. But no matter who I was with or whom I loved, Darkwater would always be my first and greatest love. His kiss and touch would always transcend all other lovers' kisses and caresses.
Reluctantly accepting that sad fact, I moaned and melted into his embrace.
Tearing his mouth away from mine, he teased me with a series of fleeting kisses that made me burn with a slow, deep hunger I could barely contain. Curling my fingers in his hair, I struggled to keep his lips in intimate contact with mine as I rubbed myself against his groin.
He sucked in a breath and abruptly stepped away from me, allowing his arms to fall to his side.
Shocked by the sudden halt of his sensual assault on my senses, I opened my eyes and blinked up at him.
He stared down at me with an inscrutable look in his dark eyes.
Was he going to make me beg him before he continued? "Darkwater...?"
"Darkwater? Really, Sherlyn?"
"Thomas," I said quickly, longing to hear him call me sweet girl again. But somehow I couldn't find the courage to ask him to because I wanted the endearment to come as naturally to his lips as it had in the past. If I had to ask him to do it, it would mean no more than my calling him Thomas when I longed to call him Darkwater. That's who I'd fallen in love with. Darkwater. Not Thomas.
He caressed my cheek. "That's better. Now tell me the truth. Did you sleep with him, Sherlyn?"
"You have no right to ask me that. We both know you've probably slept with countless women since..."
"Since you kicked my ass to the curb?"
"That's not what happened."
"That's exactly what happened." He smiled suddenly. "I still have a clear outline of your footprint on my ass to prove it."
I bit my lip and then laughed. However, I sobered quickly. "That didn't stop you from bouncing back and falling into the arms and bed of h
ow many silicone injected bimbos?"
"Since you ask so politely, I've slept with five or six women since then." He shrugged. "Maybe seven."
"Maybe seven women?" I blinked. "You've slept with seven women in the short time we...seven women in that short time?"
"It seems an age since—"
"It hasn't been an age. It's only been...how could you?"
"How could I? Don't bother trying to make me feel guilty. I meant it when I promised you I wouldn't see or sleep with anyone else while we were a couple."
"Did you really?"
"Damn right I did. I kept my word. I had no interest in or desire to sleep with anyone else while we were a couple." He caressed my cheeks. "I slept with those women after you'd kicked my ass to the curb. Not a moment before. I never cheated on you."
The fact that I believed him did little to mitigate my pain at the knowledge of how quickly he'd started sleeping with other women.
"Your turn to confess, Sherlyn. Did you sleep with Reddorn?"
"And if I say I did?" I challenged, hurt and angry at the number of women he'd bedded while I'd slept in miserable solitude night after night.
"Did you?"
"No," I whispered, praying he didn't ask me anything that would require me to either lie or tell the truth and risk him storming off in a jealous fit.
He stared at me in silence.
"I didn't sleep with him," I said again, desperate for him to believe me.
"But he's done a lot more than kiss you. Hasn't he?"
I moistened my lips. Even as my mind screamed that I didn't owe him anything—including an explanation of how far things had gone between me and Shane, I found myself nodding.
He stiffened. "He's had his hands on you...touching you in places—"
"You can't hold that against me," I said angrily. "Not when you admit to having actually fucked so many other women you're not sure if it's five or six or even seven! You whoring bastard!"
"I'm a heterosexual male with a healthy sexual appetite. Fucking women is what I do," he said in a cool, angry voice.
"Yeah? Well, I'm a woman and maybe I need to be fucked some time too without you trying to make me feel cheap and easy!"
"You want to be fucked, Sherlyn?"
"Yes, Thomas, I do!"
"Then I'll fuck you," he said and pressed his lips against mine with a relentless force that ruthlessly curtailed any response I might have made.
Despite the hostility and tension I felt in him, I just couldn't resist my need and desire for him. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back while his lips burned a moist, hot trail down from my mouth to my neck.
He cupped my breasts in his hands and massaged them through my blouse as he continued to nip and lick at my neck.
My emotions were off the scale. Even when he was clearly annoyed, I was drawn to him emotionally. Being with him was wonderfully different from being with any other man. Any intimacy with him—whether physical or emotional—touched something deep inside of me that I feared would always love and belong exclusively to him.
Longing for another kiss, I curled my fingers in his hair. "Darkwater..." I whispered. "Please."
"I'm going to please you, Sherlyn," he said. He disengaged my fingers from his hair and knelt in front of me.
I bit my lip and stared down at him. The thought of his mouth and tongue sampling my pussy again quickly roused my passions. Do it. Eat me. Please.
When he pushed my dressed up and rubbed his cheek against my belly, I felt as if he'd lit a match inside me.
He tongued my belly button and rained warm, biting kisses on my stomach before slowly pushing my panties over my hips and down to my feet.
I kicked them off, leaned back against the door, and eagerly spread my legs. I longed to feel his bare cock inside me but would happily settle for his tongue and fingers instead.
He pushed the tip of his tongue against my clit before parting my slit and tracing the outline with his tongue.
"Yes," I whispered, pushing my hips forward. "Please."
"I'd almost forgotten how fragrantly sweet your pussy smells and tastes," he whispered, stroking his big hands down my thighs.
"My pussy is yours."
"You're damned right it is." He stroked his tongue inside me, slowly followed by his fingers.
And oh my lord that felt good. Whimpering with pleasure, I fucked myself on his fingers with a greedy pleasure I was eager to feel exploding when he made me come.
Sliding both hands around my body to cup and massage my ass, he ate me with a maddening leisure that kept my rush towards my climax fully under his control. When I was within a few sucks of coming, he held his mouth and fingers still while he inhaled as if savoring the aroma of my pussy.
"Please...oh, please," I whimpered, jerking my fingers in his hair.
But he wouldn't be rushed. He kept bringing me to the brink of orgasm only to still his fingers and trail his tongue and lips away from my pussy to kiss my belly.
"Please!" I begged and pushed myself against his face. "Thomas...please."
Settling his hands over my ass cheeks again, he slowly licked my slit several times before sucking my clit into his mouth.
Oh...God. I came hard, shuddering and humping myself on his face until he rose, unzipped his pants, and rubbed his fully erect shaft head against my slit.
I moaned and clung to him. Take me. Fuck me as only you can.
He released me, took my hand in his, and led me to my bedroom.
In the doorway, he swore angrily, and released my hand.
Confused, I frowned. "What's wrong?"
"I'll show you what's wrong." He stormed across the room and snatched Don's picture from my nightstand. "What the fuck is this, Sherlyn?"
For one horrible moment, I half-expected him to throw it on the floor and crush it with his foot. "Don't," I begged, quickly crossing the room, I reached for Don's picture.
He held it out of my reach. "You're still in love with him. Aren't you?"
I shook my head. "What are you asking me? You know I loved him."
"I also know he's dead."
"You think I need you or anyone else reminding me that the only man to ever really love me is dead? Give me his picture, Thomas!"
Instead of giving it to me, he swore and hurled it across the room, against the wall. The glass shattered before the picture fell to the floor.
I stared at him with angry, hurt tears in my eyes. "How could you?"
"How could you?" he demanded with no sign of remorse.
While I stared at him in shock, he pushed his cock into his pants, slid his zipper up, and stalked out of the room, leaving me standing there half-naked. Moments later, I heard my front door open and close.
Only then did I scramble to make myself decent before I ran out into the hall after him. I reached the elevator just as the doors slid shut on his angry face.
I took a slow, deep breath, and went back to my apartment. In my bedroom, I picked up the picture frame to find Don's picture relatively unscathed. Crossing the room to my bed I placed the picture on my nightstand and called Amber.
"Maybe it's time," she said after I'd told her what happened.
"Time for what?"
"Look, Sher. I know you loved him and he loved you, but it's time to put his picture away."
I glanced at the picture that had sat on my nightstand for over three years. I'd already put the others in albums. "That's not a decision Darkwater should have tried to make for me."
"I know and I'm sure he'll realize that and apologize, Sher."
"And you think an apology will atone for what he did?"
"Maybe, if you consider why he did it and if you take the time to consider how having Don's picture still on your nightstand made him feel."
"What?"
"Why do you sound so surprised, Sher? Put yourself in his place for a moment. Imagine feeling romantic and ending up in his bedroom only to find yourself staring at a picture of another woman. It doesn’t matter
if she's dead or alive. Imagine having to look at her every time you're in his bedroom. Think about that and then tell me it wouldn't bother you and you don't understand how he must have felt."
I shook my head. "You're making me sound unreasonable."
"That's because that's how you're acting. You know how you'd feel if the circumstances were reversed. Yet you pretend it shouldn't have bothered him having to look at Don's picture when he knew how much you loved him. How do you think he felt?"
"Why didn't he say something if it bothered him?"
"If it didn't bother him, he wouldn't have tossed it across the room, Sher! Take off your blinders where he's concerned and think rationally. And stop being so damned hard on him."
"Why should I?"
She sighed. "Michael thinks he's in love with you."
Lord, didn't I wish? I shook my head. "Trust me, he's not. He's probably just one of those men who doesn’t want a woman but doesn't want anyone else to have her either."
"You know better than that, Sher."
"What I know, Am, is that he always manages to hurt me. Always!" I sucked in a breath and shook my head. "I'm sorry. You have enough on your plate without me dumping on you. I'll talk to you later."
"Don't hang up just yet, Sher. Not before I remind you that we're best friends. Yes, I have a lot going on at the moment, but nothing so pressing I can't lend an ear when you need me to. I know it pisses you off when I defend him, but he's a good man. You know that. And he's my brother and I love him."
"I know. I know." I sucked in a breath. "I'll talk to you later."
"I'll come over and—"
"No. Don't. I need to be alone for a while. I'll call you tomorrow. Good night."
"I'm coming over."
"Please don't, Am. Let's have lunch or dinner tomorrow. Tonight, I just need to be alone. Okay?"
She sighed. "Okay. Love you."
"Love you too." I hung up and laid back on my bed as tears streamed down my cheeks.
* * *
Shane
Sitting in a well-lit restaurant listening to Sherlyn's friend rattle on about God only knew what irritated the hell out of me. I had no interest in her and even less in her conversation. Small wonder she couldn't get a date on her own. Granted she was pretty and extremely well-shaped, but she lacked the warmth, sensuality, and excitement that Sherlyn projected so effortlessly.
