Playing Dirty

by Jamie Ann Denton

  Ford’s chest tightened, and he swore a piece of his heart shattered. He looked at Mattie and she winced. Phoebe returned the photo to the bookcase, then took off toward her bedroom oblivious to the pain tearing him in two.

  “I’m sorry,” Mattie said. “I didn’t think...God, I’m so sorry.”

  Stunned by what he’d just witnessed, he had no words. Instead, he stood and brushed past Mattie on his way to the bar where he poured himself another drink and downed it in one shot.

  * * *

  Mattie turned the switch on the Little Mermaid lamp until the nightlight portion bathed Phoebe’s room in a gentle bluish-green, under-the-sea glow. Two songs, and a reading from one of her favorite storybooks later, Phoebe had finally fallen asleep. She’d half expected Ford to join them, but he’d been pretty shaken by Phoebe’s nightly ritual. In all honesty, when she’d told Phoebe to kiss her daddy goodnight, she hadn’t given the photograph a single thought. She’d just assumed now that Ford was home, Phoebe would’ve kissed him goodnight, not his picture.

  But why would she? It wasn’t like she’d ever known her father. Not once in her entire life had Ford been there for bedtime. For any part of Phoebe’s life. All their daughter knew of him were the stories and snippets of information she and the rest of the family had told her, and she had no idea how much, or how little, the girl had absorbed.

  Anger unexpectedly slammed into her. She struggled to ignore the red-hot sensation, along with all the other emotions she’d thought she’d buried. No one ever said life was fair, but for what had to be the ten millionth time, she questioned fate. Why, when she’d finally found happiness, had Ford come back into their lives? It had been sheer hell, but she had learned to live without him. How was she supposed to let him back in again after everything she’d gone through?

  She hovered near the door and attempted to rein in her emotions as she watched her daughter sleep. A good five minutes and several deep, meditative breaths later, she finally closed the door to Phoebe’s room. She considered taking the coward’s way out and retreating to her bedroom for the night, but knowing Ford, a closed door would not keep him out of her thoughts, or her bedroom. Being near him with a bed in the immediate vicinity would not be a smart move. Five years might have passed, but that didn’t mean she still wasn’t physically attracted to him. Their kiss this morning told her that much.

  God, was it really only that morning, a mere sixteen hours ago? She found that so difficult to comprehend, especially after the emotional upheaval they’d all experienced today.

  The family room was empty by the time she returned. The buttery glow of the lamp bathed the room in soft light, but there was no sign of Ford. She retraced her steps and headed back up the hallway to check the guest room, then her bedroom. Both were deserted, so she went back down the hall to the living and dining rooms. She was about to check the garage, but movement on the back deck caught her attention.

  She opened the door and stepped outside into the warm, sultry night. The red tip of a cigarette caught her attention seconds before a curl of smoke wafted in her direction. She wrinkled her nose at the acrid scent and was instantly assailed with memories. Ford rarely smoked, but when he did, he was usually upset about something. After the day they’d had, she wouldn’t say no to a vodka-something, either.

  “I found an unopened pack hidden in the glove box of the Mustang,” he said as he pinched off the tip.

  “Those have got to be stale,” she said. “It smells nasty.”

  “You have no idea.” He stubbed out the remaining butt on the railing for good measure, then chucked it into the flower bed.

  “Really?” she chastised.

  “Sorry,” he pulled a roll of mints from his pocket and popped one into his mouth. “Bad habit.”

  “One I hope you don’t intend to continue.” She approached him and settled her hand on his arm. His skin was warm, the hair on his arm smooth beneath her fingertips. “Ford, I really am sorry. I had no idea Phoebe would do that.”

  “I suppose I should be grateful she at least knew who I was.” He stared at her with a hardness in his eyes that had her low-simmering anger spiking. “Even if it was only a photograph.”

  “And whose fault is that? Dammit, Ford,” she said, her voice catching. A lump wedged in her throat. “Why didn’t you come back to me?”

  He pushed off the railing and faced her. The intensity in his eyes had her backing up a few steps until her backside brushed against the side of the house. He closed in and braced his hands on either side of her, trapping her between his body and the weathered siding she’d planned to upgrade in the fall.

  “You promised,” she said on a harsh whisper. She pushed at him, but he didn’t move. “You promised me.”

  “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Moisture filled her eyes and blurred her vision. She tried to push him away again, but the man was immovable. He was her husband, the man she’d known from the minute she’d met him, they were destined to be together—forever. And she’d hurt him.

  God, how she loved him. Losing him had nearly killed her. He’d taken with him her will to live, and if it hadn’t been for Phoebe...

  Those were bleak times during the darkest days of her life. He was right. He was here now. Shouldn’t that be all that mattered?

  But for how long? How long before he felt the call for adventure, the need to do what he’d been trained to do? How long before he left them again for some hot spot halfway around the globe? Could she live that way again?

  She didn’t like the answer. In fact, neither would he.

  She looked into his eyes, burning with such vivid desire her nipples instantly hardened and her inner thighs tingled. He was her husband, at least legally. “Kiss me,” she demanded against her better judgment. Kiss me and make me forget everything but you.

  A sexy half-smile curved his lips. “I plan to do more than kiss you, Mattie,” he said softly as he lowered his head. His mouth hovered millimeters from hers. “I plan to make you come.”

  She melted into a puddle right then and there. His lips caught hers. The kiss hot, open-mouthed. Searing. A kiss meant to possess. To brand. There was nothing gentle or coaxing about the way his tongue swept boldly into her mouth.

  Heaven help her, she kissed him openly, wantonly. She kissed him as she’d done thousands of times before. Why would she hesitate? This was Ford, the man she’d always loved. The man she’d promised to love forever. The man who’d promised to love her for the rest of her life. Her husband, her lover.

  Her soul mate.

  There was no pushing him away now. Instead, she wreathed her arms around his neck and clung to him. His hand slid over her hip, his fingers pressing into her backside as he urged her close, leaving no doubt as to how much he still desired her.

  She rubbed up against him, desperately needing to feel the weight of his big body along hers. She tried not to think of all they’d lost and focused on the here and now, but she couldn’t help herself. Every stroke of his tongue, every brush of his fingers were stark reminders of every moment they’d spent apart, of all the months of missing him so badly she could barely manage to get out of bed in the morning. Of needing him and knowing she’d never be held in his arms again. Of having to learn how to breathe again, how to live again.

  Yet here he was, holding her, kissing her, setting her on fire with his mouth and his hands. Her breasts pressed against his chest, sending spirals of heat from the tips down to her throbbing clit. She wanted him with a ferocity that should have shocked her. Instead, she took comfort in the familiar sensations, his scent, his touch. His love for her.

  His mouth left hers and trailed a path of fire along her jaw to the sensitive spot just below her ear. She shivered as a myriad of fresh, sizzling sensation washed over her. God, how she’d missed him.

  The air around them was hot, heavy with humidity. He nudged her legs apart with his knee, widening her stance, then he drew his hand from her hip to the but
ton of her shorts. His knuckles brushed enticingly against her skin as he slid down the zipper and slipped his fingers beneath the band of her panties.

  She sucked in a sharp breath as he drew his fingers along her slick folds, then let it out on a slow, throaty moan when he dipped one inside her. He withdrew, then pushed two inside her and pumped slowly.

  “God, you’re wet,” he whispered against her mouth. “I want to taste you.” He kissed her then, long and slow and deep. His tongue mated with hers and he used his skillful fingers to push her toward a hard and fast release.

  She envisioned his mouth on her, teasing her with his tongue, sucking on her clit. She moaned into his mouth as need exploded inside her.

  Her legs trembled as the tension coiled tighter. A car door slammed in the distance, reminding her of where they were. Not in the privacy of their home, but on the back deck. Not exactly in public view, but should someone come through the gate or up the dirt path...

  She jammed her fingers into his hair and pulled. “We can’t do this,” she said, dragging her mouth from under his.

  “Shh.” He pushed into her, harder, faster. Deeper. Stroking her, coaxing her closer...closer. “Come for me, baby. Let me hear you.”

  He lowered his head and dragged his tongue along the scoop of her top, tasting the slope of her breasts as his fingers continued to tease, effectively obliterating any remnants of common sense.

  One swipe of his thumb over her thick and throbbing clit had her legs buckling. “Ford,” she managed on a strangled cry.

  “I’m here, babe. I’ll always be here.”

  He increased the pressure, and she was certain the intensity building inside her would kill her. Her breath came in short, hard pants as the tension grew, tighter, higher, until she finally came apart with a low, keening moan of satisfaction.

  Shockwaves of satisfaction curled through her. Her heartbeat thundered and she struggled to catch her breath. She heard her iPhone go off on the kitchen counter where she’d left it, Trenton’s designated ringtone echoing through the open patio door.

  “Oh God,” she whispered. What had she done?

  What the hell was she thinking, allowing things to go so far with Ford? They might still be legally married, but they weren’t the only two people in the relationship. There was Trenton, and heaven help her, she hadn’t given him a single thought until her phone started sounding off with the guilt-ridden reminder.

  Her head thumped back against the vinyl siding. Being with Ford had been so natural, so perfect, something she’d dreamed of for so long. Their tryst on the deck was a runaway fantasy come to life, one she’d known would never come true. But it had, and now she’d essentially been unfaithful to Trenton.

  But Ford was her husband.

  Yes, and so is Trenton.

  Embarrassed, she eased away from Ford and straightened her clothes. Good heavens, the neighbors had probably heard her. Boy, talk about fuel for the town gossips. Not only was she a bigamist, now she’d be labeled an exhibitionist, too.

  “We didn’t do anything wrong.” Ford always had an uncanny ability to know what she was thinking. Apparently that hadn’t changed, either. Nor had his ability to set her on fire. And that was a huge problem.

  “I don’t think you should stay here,” she said, zipping up her shorts. “You need to go to the motel. Or to my dad’s. Trenton was right. You can’t stay here.”

  “Why? Because you don’t trust me?”

  “No. Because I can’t be trusted around you.”

  His smile was more than just predatory, it was downright victorious. He narrowed what distance she’d managed to put between them. “And what’s wrong with that?” he asked, his voice low and filled with sex.

  Her thighs tingled. “Ford, please.”

  “I thought I did.”

  Yes, he most certainly did. She pressed her legs together.

  Her cell phone sounded off again, triggering a fresh round of guilt. “Just go.”

  “Sorry, babe. Not gonna happen. This is my home and I’m not leaving.”

  “Then I’ll leave.”

  “What about Phoebe?” he asked. “I thought the whole point was to give us a chance to get to know each other.”

  He was right. Dammit, she hated to admit it, but he was right. Tonight when Phoebe had kissed his photograph goodnight she’d witnessed the hurt deep in his brilliant, blue eyes. He had a right to know his daughter, to establish a relationship with her, and what better way than for him to be an integral part of her life? She owed him that much, at least.

  She let out a long, slow breath. “Fine. We’ll stay here. But you will keep your distance. No more...none of this...”

  That wicked gleam was back in his eyes. “No more what? Orgasms? But you sound so fucking hot when you come for me.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You know what I mean.” The warning tone she was aiming for fell short, all because of that knowing look and sexier than sin smile curving that mouth.

  He chuckled as he drew the back of his hand lightly down her cheek. “No more what?” he pressed. “No more of this?”

  Before she managed to formulate a response, his mouth caught hers in another kiss. A hot, wet kiss. Demanding. Possessive.

  Dammit, her toes curled. Her nipples hardened and her clit throbbed.

  As her cellphone signaled another message left in her voice mail box, she didn’t need to wonder if Ford could sense her body’s response. The man had an uncanny sixth sense where she was concerned. He no doubt knew she was wet for him all over again. Well, she knew him, too, and the whole kissing her stupid thing was the entire point of his argument. Fine. She wanted him. She’d never not wanted him, but until their situation was resolved, she could not allow him to affect her in this way.

  She needed him to agree to keep his distance. The only problem was, she knew there wasn’t a chance in hell Ford would ever agree to her terms. Because when he wanted something, nothing stood in his way.

  Seven

  “YOU GONNA ANSWER that?”

  No. She wasn’t. How could she possibly hope to have a normal conversation with Trenton after the orgasm Ford had just given her? She wasn’t that good of a liar.

  She walked back into the house as the Law and Order theme song she’d designated as Trenton’s ringtone ended. The familiar ding signaling the call had rolled into voice mail followed.

  Ford chuckled as he closed the patio door, then casually strolled into the kitchen. “Persistent bastard, isn’t he?”

  The overwhelming desire to chuck her iPhone at Ford’s smug face had Mattie stalking across the family room to the bar where she poured herself a shot of Crown.

  He came up behind her, invading her space, crowding her.

  “Why won’t you answer the phone, Matt?” he taunted. His warm breath caressed the side of her neck. “Your husband wants to talk to his bride.”

  She spun around and too late realized her mistake. His big body had her trapped between him and the bar. The problem was, Ford hadn’t just invaded her space, he’d invaded her mind, her body. And based on his cocky grin, the rat bastard knew it, too.

  “You need to back off.”

  He ignored the warning and lowered his head until his lips were a mere fraction above hers. His warm breath fanned her lips. “Not a chance. I’m all in.”

  “You can’t keep doing this. I’m—”

  “Married?” he finished for her. “Yes, you are.” His gaze turned momentarily glacial. “To me.”

  He slid his palms along her jaw and angled her head, then he kissed her again. Hard this time. Possessive. Staking a claim to what he no doubt believed still belonged to him.

  She planted the heels of her hands against his wide shoulders, intending to push him away, but the second his tongue swept into her mouth, common sense was no longer in her repertoire. The man was as strong as an ox, and bent on reminding her she was his wife, and his alone. She did nothing to dispel him of the notion, either, and kissing him back sure w
asn’t helping.

  Kissing Ford was...right. Perfect.

  Like home.

  She let out a sigh, gripped the sleeves of his shirt and hung on for dear life as memories assaulted her. Their life together had been filled with departures and homecomings, bittersweet moments forever etched on their collective conscience. Why should today be any different than all the other times Ford had returned from a long mission?

  One reason...Trenton. Was it really a mere two weeks ago that she’d said, “I do,” and had taken off to Europe for the honeymoon of a lifetime?

  She couldn’t do this. Kissing Ford wasn’t fair to Trenton, nor Ford. Hell, it wasn’t even fair to her. There were just too many people in the relationship.

  She broke the kiss. With every ounce of willpower and effort she possessed, she planted her palms firmly against his shoulders, and this time she pushed. Hard.

  “Stop, Ford,” she demanded. “Just stop. Please.”

  He took a step back. Confusion, followed by a flash of frustration, and finally disappointment crossed his angular features. “I’m not sorry. We’ve done nothing wrong here,” he said before he dragged his hand down his face. “Christ, Matt. We’ve been married for twelve years. We’ve been together for fifteen.”

  “I know. But I need time,” she told him. “I need to figure out what I’m supposed to do. And I can’t do that if every time we get near each other, we’re going at it like we were teenagers again.”

  A half smile unexpectedly tugged his lips. “It wasn’t that long ago, you know.”

  Memories slammed into her. “Here.” She handed him the double shot she’d poured, then splashed more into another glass for herself and took a quick sip. “It feels like a thousand years ago, but then there are moments when...”

  “When it still feels like yesterday.”

  “Exactly.” She took another sip, suddenly exhausted. She’d just survived the most insane and bizarre day of her life. Was it any wonder she was ready to collapse?