by Kat T. Masen
Out of breath, I pull away for a brief moment. “Haden, we can’t.”
His lips have already moved to the base of my neck as he mumbles. “I need you.”
The rush he gives me shoots straight down below and between my legs. I’m soaking wet. I’m struggling to hold onto my morals as my physical side demands he give me all of him.
Just one more minute, then I’ll stop.
He knows I’ll stop him, and with a desperate rush, he has made his way down to my breasts, licking circles around my nipples and causing my back to arch in pleasure. It’s difficult to keep my moans to a silent plea, and sensing my desperation, he moves his right hand toward my mouth and covers it with his palm.
“Just let me have a taste… just one taste.”
I don’t have to let him. He takes what he wants, and the moment he sucks on my nipples, an impending orgasm is on the verge of breaking loose. No, no.
“Haden, we have to stop!”
I manage to push him away just as the orgasm is about to hit. Guiding his head back toward my face, I watch his eyes and the fire burning within them.
“We can’t do this. Not while you’re in a relationship. I’m not that person.”
His chest is pumping hard, and trying to catch his breath, he finally speaks, “I know it’s wrong, but I want you, Presley.”
“I want you, too, Haden. But we can’t, not unless you end things with her.”
He pulls back. “Is that an ultimatum?”
“No,” I correct him. “It’s called having morals. I’m not a mistress, nor do I want to have an affair. I can’t deny what I feel for you, but I’m not the one engaged here.”
I see the turmoil in his expression and pull him closer one more time, for one last kiss.
“I should probably go,” he whispers, disappointed.
“You probably should.”
Reluctantly, he climbs out of bed and slides his shoes back on. He adjusts his crotch, and I ignore how hard he looks beneath the fabric.
Why, oh why was I raised to be a good, moral woman?
Walking toward the door, he stops and turns back to face me. “Give me time to sort out my life, Presley. I want you in it. I just need to fix the mess I’ve created.”
Those are his final words, and for me, tonight, it’s exactly what I need to hear—a promise of a future.
Twenty-Four
The next day, I get a surprise visit from Haden’s mom. Armed with a bag of wool and knitting needles, she insists I take a couple of hours off to do whatever the hell I want to do. At first, I’m reluctant. Masen is almost four weeks old, and I haven’t been away from him at all.
“I understand you feel conflicted. The first time I left Haden with my mother-in-law, I was a blubbering mess. It didn’t help that she was the wicked witch of the West. God rest her soul.” She raises her head toward the ceiling and makes the sign of the cross.
“How about I just go for an hour?”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with. If you need longer, please take longer. I just want to spend time with my grandson.”
I opt to feed him before heading out. It gives me the peace of mind I need, plus chatting with Mrs. Sadler keeps me entertained.
“Please, call me Liz.”
“Okay, Liz,” I hesitate, not sure why. “So, Haden tells me he has twin sisters. That must have been a handful.”
She continues to knit what appears to be booties, all the while managing to hold a conversation. “The girls weren’t as much of a handful as Haden. He was and still is strong-headed. Takes after his dad.”
“You’re telling me. I’ve met mules less stubborn than him.”
“He’s a good boy, it’s just…” she trails off for a moment before continuing, “His father’s death was hard on all of us, but it was Haden who took it the hardest.”
“Of course,” I mumble. “Boys need their dads.”
Looking down at Masen’s angelic face, I can’t imagine bestowing any pain on him. If I had my way, I would wrap him up in bubble wrap and protect him forever.
“Liz, I don’t know how you do it. The thought of my son going through any pain kills me.”
“Over time, you learn to let go, but only slightly. Haden shuts down and doesn’t allow anyone in. For a couple of years, I was a wreck, worried for his life. He was erratic and had no regard for his well-being. David kept telling me that he needed to grieve in his own way as well as grow up. He was young when the accident occurred.”
My heart breaks for Haden. It was too much for him to experience at such a young age, and so unfair that he was dealt that card. I love my dad so much and can’t even begin to understand the grief of losing a parent.
“You know, Presley, you’ve done wonders for my son.”
“For Haden? You must be mistaken. It’s not like that between us,” I stammer nervously.
She places her knitting needles on her lap. When she smiles, she looks exactly like Haden.
“Liz, both of us have had a lot of growing to do to be able to co-parent Masen, and even then, it’s only been four weeks.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t see what I do. My son adores you.”
With my eyes fixated on Masen, I speak solemnly, “He’s marrying Eloise. Things between us are far too complicated. Whatever happens, happens.”
“You know…” she adds, “… one thing I’ve learned about Haden is that he’ll never listen to anyone. Every decision he makes, he feels he has to own it, whether it be good or bad. Just be patient, Presley. Let him do what he needs to do, but in the end, I have faith that he’ll make the right decision.”
The decision he made to marry Eloise is still the million-dollar question with no answer. But just like Liz said, he owns his decisions, good or bad. When he was in London, we were practically strangers—if you ignore our midnight rendezvous. I didn’t know where his head was at or what his intentions were. Now, he seems completely different. He’s matured with the birth of his son, and deep down inside, I know he is a good man. He’s everything Liz said he is.
Our conversation leaves me with a lot to think about, so with a settled Masen, I grab my purse and kiss him goodbye. The second the door closes behind me, I burst into tears, overwhelmed by leaving him behind.
There are so many moments over the past four weeks when I just wanted a break, and now that I’ve finally got some time alone, I’m a blubbering mess. All I want to do is open that door, pull on my sweats, and never leave him again.
Reality check. I have to do this eventually, so I make my way out of the apartment and promise myself I’ll be back in exactly an hour.
It turns out that I enjoy my freedom way more than I should. I stop at a local café and devour a meal in peace and quiet, followed by a trip to the salon. In the space of two hours, my regular stylist, Chantelle, works magic on my hair and eyebrows. She even manages to get the forest down below back to normal. By the time she’s finished, I feel like my old self again. My hair is trimmed, and because I’m in the mood for something different, she dyes it a honey-brown color. My body is hair-free, and I can’t believe how such a simple thing could lift my spirits so much.
As Chantelle wraps up, I quickly grab my phone and send Haden a text.
Me: Thank you for sending your mommy over. I’m feeling much better and nicely trimmed.
The chime of my phone goes off before I even have a chance to place it back in my purse.
Haden: Poodle got a trim? Dare I ask where?
Laughing out loud at his text, I hand my credit card over to Chantelle and finalize my bill. After saying goodbye, I stroll leisurely back home and respond to his text.
Me: Mind out of gutter Jerk! My fro…
Me: On my head!
It’s in our best interest not to mention the entire makeover. That, and I’m still trying to adjust to being bare. I wait for what feels like forever until my phone chimes yet again.
Haden: Always playing hard to get. Can’t wait to see the trimmed poodle ton
ight.
Every night this week, Haden comes over after work. This time, however, it’s different between us. He stays for hours on end and lies beside me, just talking. Both of us share stories of our past, laughing at random memories from our childhoods to our awkward teenage moments. We share our dreams and hopes for the future, and every night I learn a little bit more about Haden Cooper. Tonight is no different, and Haden finally begins to open up about his dad.
“The night we got that call, we were all sitting at the dinner table waiting for him.” He closes his eyes and continues to lie on his back recalling the tragic memory. “I was angry at my parents that night, especially Dad, for not letting me go to baseball camp. Mom had made his favorite soup, and I remember the skin on the soup forming over because it was cold. He didn’t have a phone back then, so we just waited.”
I lace my fingers through his, ignoring his sweaty palms.
“The police knocked on the door, and I watched my mom fall to the ground screaming. My sisters were really young at the time, so I told them to go to their room. I didn’t want them seeing Mom like that. It wasn’t the police who told me, but my mother. He had been driving home on a winding part of the road, and another driver swerved to avoid hitting a drunk hitchhiker and hit Dad’s car head-on. The man driving lost his wife and young son in the accident.”
Haden takes a deep breath and opens his bloodshot eyes, turning to face me. “The man driving that other car was David.”
My mouth gapes open as the blood rushes from my face. “Mr. Sadler?”
He nods. “After the deaths and funerals, Mom and David became friends, both having to deal with similar grief. Romantically, nothing happened until years later, but it didn’t surprise me when it did. I wasn’t dealing well with anything, and everything just went downhill from there.”
“You were fifteen, right?”
“Yes. Fifteen with a massive chip on my shoulder. The rest of high school I kept to myself, losing any interest in baseball or girls. Kids would tease and bully me, but I ignored them. When college rolled around, I was desperate to move, and David convinced Mom to allow me some freedom. I don’t know if it’s what I needed. It was a time in my life where I experimented with everything I could to forget the pain, and I also got a taste for sex.” He chuckles lightly, unable to hide the wicked grin on his beautiful face.
I laugh along with him. College is the time everyone gets a taste for sex. Yet somehow, through the generations, parents still allow their kids to attend and move into frat houses.
“Remember this conversation when Masen asks to move across the country.”
He simply grins. “That seems so far away.”
Still holding hands, he continues to tell his story, “After college, I had no idea what to do with my life. I traveled a bit and got into extreme sports abroad. There is such an adrenaline rush when you jump off the highest bridge in the world. I got really addicted to that feeling, but after a couple of years, Mom and David had had enough. Plus, I ran out of money.”
“And then what?”
“I couldn’t hold down a job in the city. I was bored with the usual political shit until David offered me a position I couldn’t refuse. He wanted me to learn the ropes at Lantern Publishing, so he could commence his five-year retirement exit.”
“You know,” I say, “it explains so much. Like why half the time you just didn’t give a shit about anything.”
His smirk widens, and as he moves to his side, he runs his finger down my cheek. “Oh, I gave a shit all right. About you.”
“Whatever.” I laugh. “You never once paid attention to me unless you needed something.”
“The very first day I started, you were wearing a black tunic with a white collared shirt under and those red pumps I couldn’t stop jerking off over.”
“Haden!” I say in shock.
“True story. But then I overheard you rambling on about your wedding, so I lost interest. I wanted to fuck you, not break up your engagement and have you wanting a commitment from me. So, I occupied my time at work by playing the stock market. Actually, I got quite good at it and managed to make a fairly decent amount which I’ve reinvested into property.”
“You’re so crass. I can’t believe you thought about me that way.”
“Well, the day the office buzzed about your broken engagement, I wasn’t going to let anyone get a hold of you. Sergio and Russ were the first to express their interest in you.”
“Russ with the beer gut and Sergio with the unconfirmed toupee?”
He shakes his head, laughing quietly, not wanting to wake Masen. “I shut them down, saying the reason you broke up with what’s his face was because you had baby fever.”
“You did not say that. They must think I lured you in like a cougar,” I profess, half embarrassed.
“They can think whatever they want. I had my eyes set on making your life hell, so you’d notice me. I just didn’t expect this.”
“So, the Fallen Baby project?”
“I coerced David into letting me work on that. Mind you, that was before I knew you were pregnant.”
“What about London?”
“That’s half my fault. David wanted me there, but I kept refusing. After that night in the club, I knew I couldn’t be around you. You’re like this magnetic force field, and no matter how much I told myself I could resist you, I just couldn’t.”
I let out a sigh and try to take all of this in. How different things could have been between us if he were honest about his feelings all along. There is still the issue of Eloise, though.
“And Eloise… why?”
“Presley,” he chastises. “Please let me sort that out. I’ve made mistakes, one’s I need to rectify.”
I turn over onto my back. This Eloise thing is the only thing stopping us from being together. From being a family. Why can’t he just admit why he was, still is, in my eyes, marrying her?
“I need time to take all of this in,” I confess.
“Take what in?”
“You, not answering my questions about Eloise. Everything about the past. I’m just… overwhelmed.”
No more words are said. And maybe it’s for the best.
He moves his body to a sitting position, then leans in to kiss my cheek. “So, tomorrow, you’re bringing Masen into the office?”
I simply nod, followed by the only smile I can muster. A confused one.
Entering the office building feels like visiting your home after a long vacation. I missed everything about it from the hustle and bustle of the corporate world, to the office attire, and even the politics. Vicky greets me downstairs in the lobby, running toward me in new Louis Vuitton pumps.
“Ahem, what’s going on south of your kitty?”
She gladly lifts her feet, proudly showing off her new attire. “Oh, you mean these? Well, Patrick bought them for me. Kind of like an I-want-you-back present.”
I shake my head at her willingness to accept extravagant gifts from a dickhead who can’t keep his pants shut. I drop the subject, not wanting to get into an argument.
“So,” she drags, taking the stroller off me and pushing it toward the elevator. “What’s happening tonight? Are you still meeting Jason for dinner?”
The whole week I went back and forth about canceling my dinner with Jason. Things are going so well between Haden and me that I don’t want to create any unnecessary drama. But last night, after his confession, I thought long and hard about what I want. Having dinner with Jason is just that—dinner. I’m not planning on having sex with him, but although we ended on friendly terms, there is a sense of closure that I need from him to be able to move forward.
“Right now, I’m still deciding. But if I do, you’re still okay to babysit?”
“Of course! Can’t wait to hang out with my gorgeous soon-to-be godson.” She coos at Masen.
“And about that. Don’t mention this to Haden yet. I don’t think he’s religious, at all.”
Vicky slides her
finger along her mouth, then flicks it to the side. “My lips are sealed.”
Bringing Masen to the office is extremely overwhelming. Every woman and her overactive ovaries are fussing over him, all fighting to have a cuddle so they can smell his skin. It was only announced last week that Dee is expecting a baby with her sugar daddy. Four months along, according to Mr. National Inquirer himself, Clive. She seems happy, asking me questions about pregnancy and birth. I’m not here to judge her, despite her sugar daddy being old enough to be her grandfather.
Clive is doing his thing, making weird sounds at Masen trying to make him smile.
“Jesus, Pres, he looks exactly like the Jerk.”
“I’d question her if he didn’t.” Haden is standing behind an embarrassed Clive.
Haden moves into the circle, and my eyes move up his body and land on his torso. He’s wearing a fitted navy business shirt with a thin black tie, and he has rolled up the sleeves like he always does.
Kill. Me. Now.
His face has broken out into his trademark smile, and his glasses…
Why the hell does he look so irresistible today? Because you promised not to touch him while he is still engaged to Eloise.
“Motherhood agrees with you, Pres.” Clive raises his eyebrows and cups his chest, motioning to my huge breasts. “So, Masen drinks breast milk only?”
I nod. “Haven’t had the need to start the formula yet.”
“Have you tasted it?” Clive attempts to whisper.
“Clive!” Vicky scolds, followed with, “Yeah, have you?”
I shake my head at them, trying to hold in my laughter. “No. But I heard it’s supposed to taste like—”
“Cantaloupe juice,” Haden interjects. “It was on an episode of Friends.”
Mortified because he must have tasted it the other night, I lower my head so as not to reveal my flushed face. Vicky and Clive snicker as Haden continues to stand there with a wide smirk on his face, rubbing his chin with his stare fixated on me.
“Well, there you go,” I say with a fixed smile. “Cantaloupe juice. Not that I know what that tastes like, but I imagine it’s sweet. Anyways, look at the time.”
