by Naima Simone
She’d changed the course of his life. And that ate at him. Gnawed on his manhood. To think the decision of one woman could affect his existence didn’t sit well with a man who believed he forged his own path, was master of his own fate. Yeah, he grunted, what bullshit.
Sometimes, he reflected on how different his world would be if she hadn’t betrayed his love for her. Would he have been a better person? A better man? Would he be caught up in the shit he even now found himself embroiled in? No. He shook his head. The man he could’ve been wouldn’t be running, but would’ve had the balls to stay in Boston and fight, not hide out in the woods of Washington. Too bad he wasn’t that man.
Something else to lay at the feet of Caitlin Madison. And she stood fucking ankle-deep by now. He couldn’t go back in time and get the years back. She owed him. And he planned on collecting. The last words Caitlin had uttered to him were she didn’t love him and had used him for sex. Well, he didn’t love her anymore and now he intended to use her for sex until he fucked her out of his thoughts and his mind.
Didn’t that just make him a piece of work that he blamed a woman for his failures? Screw it. The past years had been hell for him. Since it had started with her, she could damn well finish it.
He should feel like a bastard—he should possess guilt over what he planned. But only anticipation thudded in his chest. Anticipation to once again graze his teeth over the beaded peaks of those full breasts before sucking them deep into his mouth. Eagerness to drag his tongue through the slick folds of her pussy and savor the sweet cream spilling out of her.
He’d noticed Caitlin the instant he arrived. Hell, Stevie Wonder would have spotted her. Thick, dark hair fell several inches below her shoulder blades and framed a face that would drive a man crazy deciding whether to worship or fuck her. Then there was her walking-wet-dream-body—yeah, definitely fuck her. Like a homing device, his eyes had zeroed in on her ebony beauty and she’d drawn him like a siren’s call to a lonely sailor. And damn, he could’ve happily crashed upon her shores.
“Listen to me,” he growled, “waxing poetic.” If he wasn’t careful, Caitlin would make a eunuch out of him. And imagining all the things he intended, being dickless would spoil every one of them.
Yeah, right. Even that wouldn’t stop him.
“Damn it,” he groaned, downing the last gulp of beer and setting it on the stone terrace ledge. His cock throbbed, demanding he take what they both craved and plunge balls-deep in the sweetest pussy he’d ever known.
So why the hell was he standing out here alone? Selig snatched the empty bottle up and strode back into the reception. Barely pausing to place the beer bottle on a tray, he stalked across the room, following the direction Caitlin had disappeared. Fuck alone. It had been his bedmate for six long years. For the next couple of weeks he wouldn’t spend one more lonely night. Not while he had Caitlin’s body available to lose himself in.
Chapter Three
Caitlin Madison was hiding.
Only how do you hide from yourself? If there were a way, she mused, drawing a fingertip over the dark window, she would have discovered it years ago. With a heavy sigh, her hand dropped away. Only a few moments. A few more moments and she could return to the party and continue to pretend as if everything were fine, great, wonderful…
Before she could smother it, a whimper escaped, betraying the anguish she hid behind the careful mask she’d adopted over the years. The sound, like that of a wounded animal, shocked her. As did the tear that slid down her cheek.
“Tears fix nothing,” she whispered, dashing the back of her hand over her cheek. They were useless. They couldn’t turn back time or bring back what was lost. She should know. She’d cried enough of them.
Damn it! Caitlin slapped her palm against the windowsill. What issue did God have with her? Hadn’t she suffered enough? Six years ago, Caitlin had stood before the man she loved and lied to him—had told him he meant nothing to her. She’d turned her back on love, passion and tenderness to save his life. Now by some cruel twist of fate, Selig Richardson had reappeared, unknowingly throwing himself back in the danger she’d sacrificed everything to protect him from.
And he hated her for it.
She’d stared up into his fallen angel beauty and fear for his safety had taken a backseat to the soul-destroying hunger that had immediately roared to life at her first glimpse of him in years. Her thighs had trembled, the flesh between them softening, preparing itself for his possession. She emitted a sharp bark of laughter. I am so pathetic. Her forehead pressed to the back of her hand, the cool glass of the window soothing her stinging palm. Her mind realized and acknowledged that she needed Selig’s anger toward her. If he ever suspected the truth—that her hurtful words those years ago had been lies—his life would be in jeopardy. She hadn’t risked his safety then and she wouldn’t now. Even if it meant Selig continued to loathe the sight of her.
The click of the office door opening behind her reverberated like a gunshot in the quiet room. Her head jerked up. She was no longer alone. And, from the drumming of her heart, Caitlin knew who had entered the room.
“I guess a closed door doesn’t mean what it used to,” she murmured, none of her inner turmoil reflected in her voice.
“Not between us. After all, we were friends once.”
The dark seduction of his voice pooled in her stomach even as the mocking drawl grated over her skin. Steeling herself against his taunt and her body’s response, she flicked him a glance over her shoulder.
“Friends.” She shrugged. “Okay, if that’s what you want to call it. Even that doesn’t explain why you’re in here. Somehow I’m not convinced you would willingly seek me out.”
“No?” An elegant eyebrow arched high.
“No.”
“I’m wounded.”
Striding across the room in a loose-limbed stroll, Selig halted within inches of her, propping his shoulder against the wall, his arms crossing over his wide chest. Head tilted to the side, he gazed down on her, the sardonic lift of his lips not detracting from their sensual fullness. She shifted her gaze away. “Coward” might as well have been emblazoned across her forehead, but she couldn’t meet that bright gaze, knowing that everything his walk promised, Selig could more than deliver. Memories of being under him, over him…she clenched her thighs against the sweet ache blossoming between them.
“Somehow I doubt that too.” Not a tremor shook her voice and Caitlin could have cried with relief.
“You underestimate your appeal, Caitlin.” His gaze took intimate inventory of her face, chest and thighs before traveling up the same path to meet her eyes again. “After all, you are the most beautiful woman in the room.”
“I thought Alise was.” Caitlin bit back a groan of mortification. Damn, she sounded as if she were shopping for a compliment to salve her pricked pride.
“She’s a gorgeous bride.” Selig shifted, his arms falling away from his chest. His hands slid into the pockets of his slacks. “And she’s taken. You, on the other hand, are not. You represent a threat to every woman there, married or single. Even Nicholas’ wife recognizes that.”
Once more his eyes trailed her figure, lingering on the provocative cut of her bodice that revealed the shadowed valley between her breasts. She trembled, feeling the heavy stroke of that hot gaze. Her nipples tightened to aching points until even the silk of her dress seemed almost unbearable. And he hadn’t even touched her. If he guessed…
The reminder of what lay at stake stiffened her resolve and the face she lifted up to him reflected the smooth, blank mask she’d perfected over the years.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“So confident. So poised. And yet…” He lifted a hand to her face, stroking the back of his finger down her cheek. Despite knowing Selig played at some sort of cat and mouse game, Caitlin’s eyes drifted closed of their own volition. One moment, she thought, leaning into his caress, she would allow herself only one moment… “And yet,” he repeated, voice h
ardening, “I can’t help but wonder if somewhere under that icy exterior is the woman who could take me for hours and still demand more.”
“Don’t,” Caitlin cried out, twisting her head to the side and dislodging his hand.
The flash of triumph in his bright gaze told her he’d detected the chink in her armor. A huge tactical error on her part.
“Don’t what? Don’t touch you? Or don’t remind you of the woman you used to be?” Oh God, that hurt. He’d been the only man to unlock her inhibitions, introducing her to the sensual nature she hadn’t known existed within her. And for him to throw it back in her face…
It hurt.
“Stop it,” she rasped.
“Stop. Now there’s a word I can’t recall you ever using before.”
“Things change. So does taste. Mine have matured—and improved—with time,” Caitlin lashed out, desperate. Anything to stop his words from falling on her like daggers to her soul, ripping her apart.
His eyes narrowed, hinting at the burning anger that lurked behind the sardonic smiles and teasing sensuality.
“Careful, baby,” he murmured, pinching her chin between his thumb and finger. The gentle, yet firm grasp issued its own warning. “I might have to make you prove those words.”
Her heart slammed against the wall of her chest. He could do exactly what he threatened. And she would be helpless to stop him. This man could make her die in pleasure only to be reborn, hungering for more. He was her Achilles heel.
“I said don’t touch me.” She jerked her face from his grip, ready to beg for space. Or his kiss.
“Hmm.” He moved closer until only a breath separated them. A smile curved his lips, but only a fool could have missed the calculating glint in his watchful, predatory gaze. “You’re protesting awfully strong, sweetheart. I don’t know whether to be offended or suspicious.”
The bottom fell out of her stomach and she bit her lip, imprisoning the denial that threatened to spill past her lips.
“Intimidation tactics, Selig? I’m sorry to disappoint you. They’re not working.” Disdain curled her lip, hardened her voice, while inside she quaked at the speculation in his narrowed gaze.
“Disappoint me?” His voice deepened to a sensual purr. “Betray me? Yes. Make a fool of me? Yes. But disappoint me? Never. I’m sure Nicholas can attest to that. He seems to harbor some,” he paused, his eyebrow arching high, “affection for you. Makes me wonder if he has reason to be so attached.”
Pain punched the breath from her lungs. She needed him to believe that she didn’t want him—that she was the same cold bitch who’d betrayed him years before. But that Selig could believe her capable of having anything to do with Nicholas, a man she loathed—his contempt cut deep.
“Thank you for the ringing endorsement,” Caitlin choked out. “Your faith in me is humbling.”
Selig snorted. “Baby, faith deserted me about the same time as hope and charity.”
“What happened to you, Selig?” Caitlin whispered, her heart breaking all over again in her chest. Not for herself this time though. No, it ached for the embittered, resentful man before her. All these years she’d tortured herself with images of him happy and content with a wife and children. The thought of his children with another woman had especially tormented her. In spite of her own pain, she almost wished that picture were fact. The alternative—the harsh, angry stranger—stabbed at her heart, her conscience. She’d done this, her and Nicholas. Their lies.
The taunting smile fell from Selig’s lips. A flash of emotion contorted his features before it disappeared behind a fierce scowl.
“Don’t you pity me,” Selig growled, stepping away from her. A gaze gone bright with rage glared down at her. “Don’t you dare fucking pity me.”
Caitlin shook her head. “I don’t—”
“I am what you made me, baby,” he interrupted with a sharp bark of laughter. “Don’t worry. You’re going to fix what’s broken.”
Her stomach clenched at the threat in his words. What the hell did that mean? It was as ambiguous as the “depends” from earlier. Her tongue peeked out, sweeping over suddenly dry lips.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve tried everything to erase you from my mind, my dreams. Work. Alcohol. Women. So many damn women over the years, Caitlin, I’ve lost count. But none of them could wipe you from my memory. Then it hit me. They were all substitutes for the real thing. Only you can exorcise you.” A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth. And the gesture frightened her like nothing else he’d said or done the entire night. “See, Caitlin, you’re going to do what those women were unable to—fuck you out of my life.”
“You’re crazy,” she gasped, swearing her pounding heart would rip out of her chest. He couldn’t be serious. She stared up at Selig, shaking her head even as she backed away from him. She didn’t move fast enough. His hand shot out, grasped her wrist and reeled her closer. His touch blasted past the shocked denial. The feel of those hard, calloused fingers on her skin scorched a path up her arm to her breasts, culminating in a relentless blaze between her thighs. With renewed strength she wrenched her arm from his grasp. Her reaction to him reminded her why his plan was ludicrous—and dangerous. “If you think I’m going to fall in line with your little plan, you’ve lost it. What? I don’t have a choice in your insanity?”
“A choice?” The timbre of his voice lowered and she shivered from the fury emanating from the two small words. “Yeah, baby, you have as much choice as I did six years ago. That would be fucking zero.” Then, like a light switch, the anger flipped to an equally devastating sensuality that hummed over and under her skin, igniting every nerve ending it grazed. His lashes lowered, shielding all except a thin line of his topaz stare. He reached out and skimmed a fingertip from her jaw, down her throat and over the rounded curve of her breast. The light caress trapped the breath in her throat and she couldn’t control the goose bumps that followed in its wake or the shiver that shuddered down her spine. “Remember how it used to be, baby? You hungered for me like I craved you. I could spend hours licking your sweet pussy. And afterward you would start coming around my cock before I was even halfway in. That’s how it was for us.”
“Was.” With an indifferent flick of her wrist, Caitlin slapped his hand away from her aching flesh. Channeling every fear and possibility she could imagine if Selig went through with this plan, she schooled her features into disdainful amusement. Remember what’s at stake. Remember why this is necessary. “There’s only one problem with your little arrangement.” Pain coursed through her even as the cruel words spilled from her lips. “I don’t want you. As I said when we broke up, it was good while it lasted. At twenty-three I was too…inexperienced to understand real pleasure. Now though,” she lied, “I’ve had six years to discover it on my own, so thank you, but no thank you. I don’t need your services, nor do I want them.”
He recoiled, flinching from the slap of her words. Almost immediately the blank mask of shock transformed into something cold and forbidding. She fell back a step, her trembling fingers rising to her throat at the savagery on Selig’s face. It was too late. He moved so fast, she barely had time to mouth a protest before Selig clamped hard fingers around her wrists, locking them together and dragging them over her head. His big body pinned her to the wall and the objection on her lips became a strangled cry as he pressed himself flush against her. Selig surrounded her, his hard chest crushed to hers, his hips notched between her thighs, the thick, hard column of his cock grinding into her soft belly.
“What are you doing?” She couldn’t hold back the whimper at the feel of his cock. All good intentions burned to ashes under the heat of the memories of her sucking it deep inside her mouth, loving the taste and essence of him. She wanted it again. She needed it again.
His mouth curved into a smile next to her ear, his breath bathing the shell in moist heat.
“Making a liar out of you.”
If only he’d used brute stre
ngth against her. If only he’d forced her to accept his touch, maybe then Caitlin could have summoned the determination and will to protest. But even his restraining grip on her wrists was sensual and dominant enough to make the folds of her sex plump and weep in pleasure. And when his mouth opened over the tendon in her neck, biting down with just enough pressure to drag a broken groan from her, she ceded the battle. She’d craved this for too long. She’d dreamt about it in vivid details, waking up wet and aching. Force she could have fought, but this erotic tenderness—she didn’t have a defense capable of withstanding it.
Caitlin arched her neck back, giving him access to her throat, no longer caring that if he continued to touch her, he would discover the depths of her hunger. She could lie, but the pussy that wept for him betrayed the truth.
With one hand shackling her arms high above her, Selig stroked the other up her hip, past her waist, skimming up her rib cage to cup one full, taut breast. With a throaty moan, Caitlin bowed into the erotic caress. Her head fell forward on his jacket-covered shoulder. Oh God, she pleaded silently, just touch me. Just…please don’t stop touching me.
She may have uttered aloud the feverish thoughts running through her mind. Or perhaps he still remembered her needs from years earlier, because his fingers obeyed her plea, plumping the lush mound of flesh in his palm, his fingers spreading over the hard nipple to capture and tug.
And she almost came right then.
“Fuck.” Selig pressed closer, grinding his straining cock against her stomach. Wanting more, craving more, yet unable to voice her need, Caitlin wriggled her arms from his grasp. Her hands fell to cup his head, dragging him down to the tips of her breasts, silently begging for more. He complied, his lips opening to suckle and nip through the silk of her dress. His fingers plucked at the other rigid point, driving her closer and closer to a shattering orgasm. She gasped, liquid heat racing to her drenched core with every pull and twist. Her legs shifted restlessly, fighting the long material of her skirt as she tried to part her thighs and shift him where she needed him most.
