Finally, perhaps sick of my attempts, Lance pulled his hands reluctantly away from grabbing my ass and instead tugged his shirt off, up over his head. The neck of the shirt mussed up his dark hair a little, and I ran my hands through it as he tossed the article of clothing aside.
Now that he was topless, Lance apparently decided that I needed to become that way as well. His hands dropped down to my shirt, pulling it up and off of my body. We pressed together again, but this time both of us were bare from the waist up, pressing together and feeling the heat of each other's bodies.
Sometimes, I worried about how men saw my body, whether they considered me attractive. I'd always kept a slim figure, but I knew that I lacked many of the curves that other girls possessed; I had a flat behind without much of that roundness that men apparently sought after, and my breasts, while not totally flat, never really gave me much more than a suggestion of cleavage. When I was out riding, I was glad that I didn't have to strap my chest down to avoid bouncing, but I always worried that men found my lack of busty balloons disappointing.
Clearly, however, Lance didn't feel that way. After a moment, he pulled me physically forward on top of him so that he could press his face against my chest, wrapping those flexible lips of his first around one nipple, and then the other, kissing and nipping and teasing me. I loved the sharp little mix of pleasure and pain, and I pulled his head in against my small breasts, holding it there and spurring him on with little cries of pleasure as he nibbled.
I reached back behind me, feeling the man's pants still buttoned and fastened. It was very hard to maneuver my way through undoing a button that I couldn't see, behind my back, but after a bit of fumbling I eventually managed to unbutton the top of Lance's jeans. I immediately carried my success onward to unzipping the zipper, pushing them down enough for me to slide my hands inside.
Oh, there it was! My hands, resting on his crotch, suddenly encountered a hard rod, throbbing and swollen even through two layers of fabric. I wrapped my hands around it, wanting to free it from its enclosure.
I slid back down the man's body, tugging his jeans down along with me. He was free, now, at least half-exposed and throbbing in between my legs! I pressed down against him, feeling him there through the thin flannel of my shorts, so close to being pressed right up against me.
It was here, however, that I felt my inner voice rise up, interjecting before I could let myself be carried all the way.
Did I really want to do this right now? Shouldn't I at least talk with Marsden, first, in order to truly bring my relationship with that man to an end? How would it feel if any future with Lance was constantly overshadowed by the fact that it had begun while I was still technically together with my ex-fiancé?
I hated those words inside my head, hated the logic and sense that they made - but I couldn't deny their truth.
Feeling reluctance in each movement, I forced myself to stop grinding down on the man's crotch, lifting myself up a little and ending the kiss we now shared. I opened my eyes as I backed off, gazing down at Lance.
I didn't know how to explain the battling, competing thoughts fighting in my head, but one look in his eyes showed me that I didn't need to provide any explanation. He understood, and even though I could see his own desire still fighting for control in his dark eyes as he gazed back at me, he gave me a little nod.
That nod was all I needed.
With a groan, I tossed myself sideways, flopping down off of the man and landing on my back in the bed beside him. "Well, that was crazy," I said aloud, staring up at the ceiling, not bothering for the moment to cover up my exposed breasts.
Next to me, I felt Lance nod, but he didn't say anything. He was waiting for me to speak, to work through my own thoughts.
Finally, I couldn't take the silence any longer. "I guess I shouldn't have thrown the ring away quite yet," I said, glancing over at the corner of the room where it had landed somewhere. "Since I'll need to be giving it back, and all."
"I'll help you find it," Lance offered immediately, but I shook my head.
"No, this is on me. And I am going to bring it back - Marsden slipped up, but he's not a bad person, most of the time. I think the two of us just never really fit together. Nothing felt natural; we always had to fight to make things work." I sighed. "That should have been a sign, I suppose."
After another minute or two, Lance sat up. "Well, I think I'm going to head downstairs and make some breakfast," he said, reaching down and picking up his shirt from where it had landed on the floor. "Should I make you some?"
I shook my head. "No, I don't think I could eat anything right now."
The man nodded, and rose up. He stepped quietly away, and had the presence of mind to close my door behind him as he left the room.
For a minute longer, I just lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts swirling in my head as I tasted Lance's essence still on my lips. Jumping on him, kissing him, had been, by far, the most out-of-character thing I'd ever done, I thought to myself.
And yet, it had felt absolutely amazing.
I knew that I should get up, should get dressed, find that ring, and go to Marsden's to return it - and apologize to him. Even though he'd been the one to hit me, I still did think I owed him an apology for not talking with him sooner, for just kind of blindly letting things drift along. It took two people to maintain a silence, after all.
But for a minute or two longer, before I dragged myself out of bed, I lay there and pictured Lance wrapping those big hands of his around me. I pictured him stripping off my clothes, kissing me all over, pulling me on top of him once again, this time with nothing separating us, so that our bodies could fully come together...
I squirmed and grinned as I tugged the sheets into a mess around me at the very idea.
Chapter twenty-five
I finally found the ring on the far side of my room, hiding underneath my dresser and up against the wall. Only the little glint from the diamond stone gave away its presence, and when I pulled it out, cobwebs and strands of hair clung to it.
"Gross," I murmured to myself, shaking it clean. I nearly slid it onto my finger, acting out of habit, but I instead caught myself at the last second, instead dropping it into a pocket. Looking down wryly at the blank space on my finger, where the slightly lighter after-image of the ring was still visible against the tanned, darker skin on either side, I had to admit that it would take a little bit of time to adjust to not wearing an engagement ring any longer.
Downstairs, I could catch delicious smells drifting out of the kitchen, as usual, but I refused to give in and spend time eating. I knew that letting myself eat breakfast would just lead to other delays, and I'd keep on finding new ways to prevent myself from tackling the tough task that lay ahead of me.
Instead, I ducked into the kitchen only long enough to grab a granola bar from the pantry, then turning and hurrying out before I could get snared by Lance's cooking. I kept a supply of granola bars on hand to provide snacks during trail rides, but they often served as an ersatz breakfast in a pinch - at least, before Lance started doing all my cooking for me.
With the granola bar in one hand and the keys to my truck in the other, I headed out to the driveway. Thankfully, my truck fired up and the engine turned over right away, and I headed out towards Marsden's apartment, in the heart of the city.
Fortunately, I realized as I hit the road, it was the weekend; the man would likely be around. (For a moment, I surprised myself with the realization that it was Saturday! I'd been so caught up in wedding planning, in trying to stretch myself in a dozen different directions, that the weekdays and weekends all blended together.) Even Marsden didn't usually do much work on Saturdays, and I hoped that he'd still be at his apartment, maybe sleeping off the events of the night before.
Sure enough, when I pulled into the parking lot in front of his high-rise apartment building, I saw his silver Mercedes still parked outside, in one of the two parking spots reserved for his apartment unit. He'
d at least made it home in one piece, I noted gratefully, although I did see some new mud stains on the sides of the Mercedes, along with a scrape in the door that I didn't remember from earlier.
The other parking spot for Marsden's apartment, however, was occupied, filled up by a small red two-door convertible. It didn't look especially expensive - what was that brand again? Mazda? Infinity? One of those types. Still, it didn't look like the type of car that would be driven by a maid. Had someone parked in the wrong spot by mistake?
Fortunately, there were a few guest parking spots, and I claimed one of them, carefully easing my truck into the narrow strip. I checked my pocket to make sure I still had the ring, and then headed inside.
I always chose to not take the elevator in Marsden's apartment building, instead making use of the stairs. I'd adopted the habit back in college to help keep my legs in shape, and it had stuck with me, becoming automatic. I turned into the stairway, climbing up towards his fifth floor apartment.
Halfway up, I paused for a moment, fumbling in my pocket. I pulled out the ring and, after a second of staring at it apprehensively, I slid it onto my finger. It would probably be best to not get Marsden upset right away by revealing that I'd already removed the ring, I thought to myself. Instead, I could come in with it on, and then take it off and hand it back to him after saying my piece.
By the time I reached the fifth floor landing, I was feeling winded, despite regularly taking the stairs. I headed down the hallway outside the stairwell to Marsden's front door, but then paused for a moment, waiting for my breath to come back before knocking.
It was as I paused, leaning forward slightly and focusing mainly on my breathing, that I became aware of hearing voices coming from inside Marsden's apartment.
I paused for a moment, listening. One of those voices was definitely male, and it sounded like Marsden, at least as best I could make out through his front door.
The other voice, however, was just as obviously female.
I thought back to the little red convertible parked in the other spot reserved for Marsden's apartment. Was a family member or friend visiting, perhaps?
Curious, I knocked at the door - and heard both voices inside cut off abruptly at the sound of the knock.
"Who is it?" Marsden called out after a second.
"It's me, Jillian," I called back, feeling more confused now. Why wouldn't he just open the door? In the back of my head, I felt the serpent of suspicion start to rear its head, but I ignored it for the moment. "I'm here to talk about what happened last night."
Inside, I heard sudden scuffling, accompanied by a low-pitched "Oh, shit." "Just a minute!" Marsden called out, amid the scuffling sounds.
A frown appeared on my face. I reached out and checked the door handle, and to my surprise, I found that it turned in my hand. For a moment, I considered waiting, but my mingled curiosity and suspicion got the better of me.
I opened the door and stepped inside.
Marsden's apartment had a fairly modern, open floor plan. The front door opened right on the living room, with a full bank of windows and a set of glass sliding doors on the far side of the living room opening up onto a balcony area. Off to the left side from the living room, a pair of big double doors led into the master bedroom and master bathroom, while a short little hallway on the right side of the living room went to both the kitchen and the guest bedroom and bathroom. Marsden hired some fancy-pants interior decorator to furnish the apartment, and he or she had apparently chosen to paint most of the surfaces white and supply white leather furniture. A few throw pillows and rugs of bright blood red distracted slightly from the dazzling whiteness of the rest of the apartment.
My attention, however, wasn't drawn by the red accent decorations.
Instead, my eyes locked on the topless young woman bending over the back of one of the white leather couches, her ass, clad only in a pair of lacy pink panties, facing towards me.
"Got it!" the young woman exclaimed as I stepped in, straightening up and holding up a matching lacy pink bra triumphantly in one hand. "It was under the couch-"
She turned, spotted me staring wide-eyed at her, and let out a squeak. For a moment, she just stood there, frozen like a deer in headlights, before suddenly recovering her ability to move and making a mad dash through the open doors into the bedroom.
An instant later, Marsden emerged through those same doors, clad only in his boxers, frowning. "Stop running around! I'm going to let her-" He also stopped short as he saw me, his eyes widening with a similar expression as the young woman had worn.
For a moment, I stared at him with my mouth hanging open, trying to find words to express how I felt. There were none. All I could feel was shock and betrayal - and beneath that, a building rage.
I took a step forward, reaching down and seizing my ring, that damn engagement ring, from where it still sat on my finger.
"Jillian, wait, I can explain," Marsden began as I stepped forward, even though his tone and the way he held up his hands made it clear that he didn't have any real explanation. His words rang false, as though he was just grasping at the last few straws, already knowing that he was about to fall.
I pulled the ring off of my hand, wrapping my fingers around it in a fist.
"Look, she just came over to comfort me," the man in front of me stammered, taking a step back as I kept on advancing. His boxer-clad ass bumped up against the back of the couch behind him. "Really, she doesn't mean anything-"
I took another step forward, now only a foot or so in front of Marsden. I held up the fist with the ring clutched inside, and then pitched the ring forward.
It sailed past the man, through the open double doors to the balcony and vanishing out into the space beyond.
Marsden partially turned, his mouth still open, watching the ring fly away. I reached forward and put both of my hands up on his shoulders.
"Here's my response," I said sweetly - and brought my knee up between the man's legs with all the force I could muster.
I felt something crunch as my knee collided with the man's unprotected privates, and he immediately doubled forward, gasping and making wretching noises.
Letting go of him, I tightened my right hand into a fist. Throwing the weight of my whole body into the blow, I brought it across in a perfect cross, slamming it into the man's face.
Once again, something gave way at this hit - and Marsden tumbled down onto the floor, landing on his chest and knees. He tried to turn his head to say something up to me, but only gurgling noises emerged from his parted lips.
"Goodbye, Marsden," I said, glaring down at him.
And then I turned on my heel and left his apartment.
Well, okay, I did one more thing.
On my way back to the door, I noticed the man's damn cane, that monstrosity with the silver talon clutching a bull's horn, leaning up against the wall right beside the door. As I passed the front door, I reached out and grabbed the ugly thing, bringing it with me.
I intended to toss the thing into a bonfire as soon as I arrived home.
Chapter twenty-six
It wasn't until I was back in my truck, heading back to my house, that the gravity of what I'd just seen finally hit me. I had to pull the truck over to the edge of the road, onto the shoulder, and put it in park so that I could put my head down in my hands, resting it against the steering wheel.
My fiancé had cheated on me - and from the way he'd tried to defend himself, it sounded as if this wasn't a one-time thing that had only just happened. No, from the way that Marsden attempted to justify things to me - before I clocked him - it sounded as though this affair had been going on for quite a while.
How hadn't I seen it? Was I just oblivious, or had I been choosing to ignore the signals?
As I sat there in my idling car, breathing heavily and trying to keep from crying, I realized that the young woman in Marsden's apartment had looked familiar. It took me a minute to place her - when I'd last seen her, she definitely had
n't been nearly naked and looking shocked at my intrusion - but I finally placed her.
Kristy, the young waitress at the Highball Club, Marsden's favorite restaurant. She'd served us the night before, and she'd looked startled to see Marsden bring in another woman. Marsden, as well, had looked surprised to see her there in the evening, instead of only during the lunch shift.
That had to be it, I realized. He must have met her there, and they'd started having an affair. That was why he never wanted me to visit during business hours, and why he didn't return messages or calls right away. I always thought that his delay was because he was so engrossed in work.
Instead, he'd been busy fucking that whore of a waitress, cheating on me with every opportunity he got.
I slammed the base of my palm against the steering wheel, making the truck honk, and howled in helpless frustration. I'd been concerned about even thinking about Lance's body, what it would be like to kiss the man, and the whole time, my fiancé had been having an affair, fucking another woman! How had I been so dumb?
And what to do now? I sat there in the car for several more minutes, trying to think, waiting for my thoughts to return to some sort of order. After another few minutes, however, I gave up and accepted that this wasn't going to happen.
I pulled out my phone, fumbling to unlock it through a haze of tears. I scrolled through the phone book until I found Dahlia Remont's phone number.
"Dolly, I need help," I said right away, as soon as my friend picked up at the other end.
Thankfully, there was a reason why this woman had earned the title of my best friend. As soon as she heard the barely held back panic and sadness in my voice, she didn't bother asking me whether everything was alright. "Do you want to go out, or should I meet you at your house?" she asked.
I tried to think for a second. If I went back home, Lance would learn what I'd discovered, and I'd have to deal with his pity, his attempts to comfort me - and there was always the chance that he'd go storming off, intent on murdering Marsden for me. That probably wouldn't be the best choice, despite how satisfying it might feel.
Dark Horse: Bad Boy Cowboy Romance Page 12
