Sweet Ultimatum

by Naima Simone

  “Sometimes there’s such sadness in your eyes.” Compassion shone from Alise’s gray gaze. “I notice the same sorrow in Selig’s. You two are a pair. On the surface, he seems to have this great life. Success. Wealth. Nice home and car. You can’t miss the pain, though, when you really look into his eyes. He tries to hide it with smiles and jokes, like you, but it’s there.” Alise squeezed her hand one last time before releasing it. “Of course, he has a little more anger than you.”

  Caitlin doubted that. The difference was Selig hated her. Caitlin abhorred the man responsible for all of their pain. Nicholas Gordon.

  “Both of you have suffered, Caitlin. But you can’t exist in this emotional isolation. Even if it isn’t Selig,” Alise continued, “you deserve to be happy. No one should go through this life alone. At some point you have to take a risk and allow someone to touch your heart and add to your life. You are worthy of that.”

  Caitlin turned her gaze to the table and plate of unfinished food. A chasm of longing yawned wide in her chest. She hungered for the relationship Alise described. She ached with it! Maybe it was part of her genetic makeup that only Selig could fill that hole. She’d resigned herself to that fact. Dating over the years had resulted in one disaster after the other until Caitlin had conceded defeat. When Selig had left New Eden, he’d taken her soul with him.

  She no longer had a heart to give.

  Chapter Nine

  The thud of the car door closing in the emptiness of the cemetery parking lot resounded like a cannon boom. The early afternoon sun warmed Selig’s head and arms as he traversed the lot and stepped onto the path that meandered through the many plots and headstones. Though a gentle breeze stirred the air, his shoulders hunched against the soft wind as if it were a blustering gale.

  His heavy footfall along the cement path mirrored the weightiness in his heart. Coming here was a double-edged sword. Pain throbbed in his chest while peace settled over his spirit. He hated this place, yet it represented a haven in the cluster fuck his life had become.

  Selig slowed, veering off the trail to tread across the vibrant green grass bordering the many people laid to rest. He stopped before a single sun-dappled plot.

  Stephen and Maureen Richardson. Adored Father, Mother and Friends.

  Together in life and death.

  His parents. His mentors and best friends.

  Selig stuffed his hands in his pants pockets, the breeze teasing the strands of his hair. He smiled, the sadness lifting a bit as he hunkered down beside the plot and gleaming headstone.

  “You would probably hate my hair, Mom. I can hear you now, bugging me to get a haircut. Asking me if I planned on piercing my ears next.” He chuckled, smoothing a fingertip over the marble stone of the plot, tracing the date of their death. “For you, I would have considered it.”

  He glanced up, noting the pink roses resting on the headstone. His mother’s favorites. Warmth invaded his chest at the sight of the full blooms. Maureen Richardson would have adored them.

  “I see Mac and Alise have been visiting.” He dropped his head, a sob catching him off guard. It had been seven and a half years since they’d died in the car accident. When would the grief and pain ebb? Though not as sharp, the loneliness ached like a war wound that had never fully healed.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. I’m sorry for that. I couldn’t—” He cleared his throat, needing a moment before going on. “I moved back to Boston and came back to New Eden for Mac’s wedding. You both would like his wife. Alise is perfect for him. Quirky enough to keep him from being so uptight.” Selig settled on the grass, hanging his wrists over his raised knees. “He’s happy. They both are. I’m a little ashamed to admit I’m envious. At one time, I imagined having their lives, having the marriage you two had. But…”

  Selig’s shoulders sagged, his head bowed low.

  “My life is so fu—messed up. My career is up in the air. I don’t even know if I want it anymore. I’m bitter and angry all the time. I’m forcing a woman I claimed to have loved into an arrangement she hates. I’m a user.” This time he didn’t bother to choke back the sob that welled up. It tore from his chest on a raw moan. “Dad, I want to be the man you raised me to be. Neither one of you would be proud of me right now.”

  A soft shuffle sounded behind him. His head shot up, glancing in the direction of the noise. Shock reverberated through him, dragging him to his feet. Caitlin paused on the path behind him, a bouquet of pink roses cradled in her arm. Pink roses. His eyes dipped to the flowers on the grave.

  She couldn’t have…

  “What are you doing here?” He winced at the croak of his voice, heavy with the tears he hadn’t shed. Caitlin studied him several silent moments before stepping from the path onto the grass.

  “Same as you,” she murmured, approaching him and the plot. She skirted around him, bending down at the side of the headstone to lay the fresh flowers at the base. She reached for the older blooms to remove them.

  “Leave them.” He hadn’t meant to bark the order, but his emotions still churned from her unexpected presence and the astonishing discovery that she visited his parents, bringing flowers. He shook his head, sliding his hands back in his pockets. “She wouldn’t mind.”

  Nodding, Caitlin rose. Silence cloaked them, the chirps of the birds and the buzz of nature filling the quiet. Selig couldn’t help it. He stared. Her dark unbound hair swung several inches below her shoulders, framing a face breathtaking in its loveliness. The breeze flirted with the wide hem of the yellow summer dress that floated around her slim calves. She stole his mind, brought his cock to throbbing life. Hell, he grimaced, here he stood at the foot of his parents’ grave and he still craved her.

  “How long have you been coming here?” He dipped his chin toward the flowers. “Bringing those?”

  “About once a week since I’ve returned home.”

  He regarded her in stunned disbelief. “Why?”

  “I loved her,” she stated simply, her movements echoing his from moments earlier as she caressed the smooth marble. “I didn’t know your father that well, still from the way she talked about him, he must have been a good man. Maureen adored him.”

  He felt as if he had tumbled down the damn rabbit’s hole. “I didn’t know you were close to her.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She shot him a look from underneath her lashes and he glimpsed the teasing gleam.

  “You don’t remember, do you?” The smile bloomed. “Your mother worked at Dad’s firm for years. When I would go to the office, I always ended up sitting with your mother. Being the founding partner’s daughter had its advantages.” She chuckled. “If I annoyed Maureen, she never let me know. Soon, I came down to Dad’s office just to visit her. I envied you for having her as a mother.”

  In the silence following that statement, Selig read the unspoken words. Janet Madison wasn’t a patient or affectionate woman. Maureen had nourished a young girl starving for maternal affection. The pressure in his chest increased, the tears pushing behind his eyes. He closed them, and an image of his mother popped into his head. He had inherited his mother’s dark, wavy hair and golden skin, her endowment of his Hispanic heritage. She’d been the perfect foil for his father’s strong Nordic features.

  “I had a huge crush on you when I was thirteen.” His expression must have revealed his surprise because she laughed, nodding. “You were this popular senior. Wide receiver for the varsity football team. Honor roll. And I was a skinny, quiet seventh grader. You never noticed me, of course. Your mother knew. She would call you and have you drop by the office for small errands. Just so I could see you.”

  Selig laughed aloud as the memories of those silly trips by his mother’s job flashed through his mind.

  “Now I remember. I would be annoyed as hell until I walked in the office and she would give me one of those innocent smiles. Neither Dad or I were ever fooled by them, but we gave in every time.”

  “She loved yo
u. She was very proud of you.” Selig refused to look up, afraid of what she might discern in his eyes. The guilt. The shame.

  “Was.” He shook his head. “Neither one would recognize who I am now.”

  “That’s not true, Selig,” she whispered. “Nothing could diminish their love for you. Their pride in having you for a son.”

  Her assurances ate at his soul. He didn’t deserve them. She had no clue who he was or the man he’d become. If she did, Caitlin would look on him with disgust, not sympathy. Anger flared bright in him.

  “You’re determined to see what you want, aren’t you?” he snarled. “Even if it’s not true.”

  “Just as determined as you are to see what you want. Even if it’s not true.”

  “How do you know?”

  He tasted more than heard the desperation in his voice, its acrid flavor bitter in his mouth. Then, he’d become well acquainted with desolation. He wanted to curse, rage and let loose the pressure of anger and grief in his stomach and chest. The imminent explosion built and built—and then a slender hand enfolded his, gripping his fingers and quieting the storm tearing him apart.

  “I know you, Selig. Six days could have gone by instead of six years and I would still know you. I don’t know what has occurred in those years and I’m learning the man you’ve become. One thing I do know is geography can’t change your heart or your spirit. You’re still the same loving boy who sent his mother silly birthday cards. The same man who bought his father a new car with his first check as a new lawyer.” She squeezed his hand. “The same man who refuses to sell his parents’ home because of the love that built it.”

  She loosed his hand and Selig checked the insane impulse to grab it again and refuse to let go. She raised a hand to his face, cradling his cheek in her palm. Lifting on her toes, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

  “I’ll give you more time with them,” she murmured, ducking her head. She pivoted on her heel and headed back toward the parking lot.

  Selig stared after her, praying she didn’t turn around. She would glimpse the emotions he didn’t have the strength to conceal. Rage. Confusion. Yearning. Resentment.

  The Caitlin who had comforted him with memories of his mother resembled the woman he’d loved. Yet he couldn’t dismiss the cold mask of the woman who had rejected and betrayed him, her harsh words cutting him deep even to this day. Returning his gaze to the gravesite, he shook his head.

  It didn’t matter.

  He couldn’t trust either one.

  * * * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, Selig retraced his steps. He encountered no one on the return trip, the cemetery as quiet as it had been when he’d arrived. Raking a hand through his hair, he clenched the strands in a tight first before releasing them.

  He felt as if he’d just emerged from battle, returning home an emotional amputee. Before entering the cemetery he’d believed he no longer possessed a heart, a soul. Now he experienced the phantom ache of both. Tension simmered under his skin, as if a dormant volcano had awakened. The combination of visiting his parents’ grave after six years and Caitlin’s unexpected tenderness left him unbalanced and tense.

  The sane part of him was thankful for her presence today, for giving him new memories of his mother. The other part resented being so exposed to her. He didn’t trust her with his vulnerability. The last time he’d opened his heart to her, allowed her in that tender place of fear and insecurity, she’d nearly destroyed him. No, he couldn’t take a chance on her again. He couldn’t afford to take a chance on her again.

  Hell, maybe it was time to give up this plan and go home before the choice to leave and protect his heart was seized from him.

  He strode toward his car, head down, lost in thought.

  “Damn.” Selig ground his teeth together, bracing himself against the sudden impact of a body colliding with his. He closed his hands over slender shoulders and soft skin.

  Caitlin.

  He snatched his hands back, quelling the juvenile urge to lock them behind his back. He rode the edge, every emotion so close to the surface he feared implosion. Caitlin was that lit keg, that detonator that would blast his control from here to hell.

  “I thought you’d left.”

  “I wanted to wait and make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m fine,” he lied. “Thanks for waiting, but you can go.”

  “Selig.” She reached out for him and he jerked away, backpedaling a step to avoid her touch. He winced at how ridiculous it must look to see a grown six-foot-four man back up from a woman who cleared the top of his chest.

  Damn this, if she stood there much longer, so lovely and soft, offering sympathy, he would take much more than her compassion. He wouldn’t stop until he buried his cock in the welcoming haven of her tight pussy, giving him the oblivion he craved.

  “Caitlin,” he shoved his fingers through his hair and skimmed the deserted parking lot as if searching for an escape from this woman, “please go.”

  “Okay, I’ll leave.” She nodded and he spied the pain that flashed across her features before she turned away.

  “Wait. Damn it. Caitlin.” He reclaimed the two steps she’d taken away from him, curling his fingers around her shoulders and dragging her closer. Cupping her face in his hands, he lifted it up to his. “Sweetheart, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Don’t you understand if you stay here, I will? I don’t want gentleness. I don’t want your compassion.”

  Her gaze dipped, the long thick lashes concealing her eyes from him. “I understand…”

  “No, you don’t,” he interrupted. “Baby, you don’t understand a damn thing. I don’t want to remember the grave on the other side of this lot. I don’t want to think about revenge. I just need to be inside you, so deep in your sweet pussy that nothing or no one matters.” He exhaled, stepping back and freeing her. “Now you can—”

  “All right.”

  The words stuck in his throat, his mind slow to catch up with what his body had already comprehended. Blood surged into his cock, lengthening the flesh until it tented the front of his pants. His heart pounded so hard he almost missed her reply. “What?”

  “I said all right.” She grasped his fingers, lifting them to her breast. He squeezed the resilient flesh, the reaction automatic. Her moan punched him in the chest, stealing his breath.

  “Are you sure?” His voice grated like sandpaper over glass, sounding painful to his ears.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  He stared down at her, “why” hovering on the tip of his tongue. His cock chose that moment to flex in his pants and obliterate all thought. The reason behind her abrupt capitulation didn’t seem so important when compared to his need for her.

  “Give me your keys.” He held his hand out. After a slight hesitation, she placed her keys in his palm. “Come on.”

  * * * * *

  He didn’t drive far. Leaving the main parking lot, he took one of the pitted lanes that led to the woods surrounding the cemetery. He rounded a bend, thrust the gear into park and switched off the ignition. Through the lowered windows the chatter of squirrels and the drone of insects reached them. Inside the car his breathing, rough and hungry, added to nature’s chorus.

  His fingers clenched around the steering wheel of her car. He ached. One huge fucking, pounding ache. He released a hand, sliding it between the driver’s seat and the car door. After a moment of searching, he found the mechanism controlling the seat’s movement. Pressing the lever, he eased the seat back as far as it would allow.

  He turned to glance at Caitlin and found her watching him. She had remained silent the short distance to the wooded area, not objecting to the location. If she had, he would have explained he couldn’t wait the time it would take to go home or the nearest motel room. He needed her now.

  “Caitlin.” He moaned her name, sliding his hand up her neck and under her hair to cup the nape. He massaged it, squeezing. Her eyes darkened, the lashes lowering. “Caitlin.” He waited until she opened her
eyes and met his. “Kiss me, baby.”

  He unwrapped his fingers from the wheel, one hand undoing the belt at his waist while he drew her closer with the other. His mouth covered hers, hungering for the taste that belonged to her alone. He delved deep, his tongue sweeping through the moist recesses, taking, conquering. Heat flared between them, the blaze burning higher and more destructive with every second.

  She scooted closer, pressing her chest to his, the beaded tips of her breasts stabbing him through her dress and his shirt. Small hands batted his away, going to his pants. While she worked at his belt, he raised his hips and removed his wallet from the back pocket. Later he might be embarrassed by how his fingers trembled as he pulled the condom free and tossed both the billfold and silver square on the passenger’s set. But now, with the hiss of his zipper lowering, he couldn’t give a damn. Not while Caitlin reached inside his pants with eager hands, encircling his erection and giving his dick a long, tight stroke. He groaned and his cock pulsed in her hand, impatient.

  “Fuck, that’s good,” he rasped. “I love your hands on me.” He pressed a kiss to the underside of her jaw, her neck, before returning to the lush temptation of her mouth. He ate at her lips, nipping and tugging, marking them. When she walked away from him today, her lips would be swollen from his kiss. She would think of him.

  Rising to her knees, Caitlin leaned over him, her hands working his dick, her tongue working his mouth. He groaned into the kiss, his palms cupping her ass through the thin material of her dress. She squirmed, her hips undulating, seeking. He squeezed the tight flesh, one hand gliding down and then up her thigh to palm her mound. She jerked into the caress and he devoured the low wail of pleasure. Even through the barriers of clothing, her hot sex scalded him.

  With a little sexy growl, she threw her leg over his hips, straddling his lap. The tight confines of the car offered little room for maneuvering, but she managed to sit astride him, her fingers abandoning his dick to dig into his shoulders so her pussy could have a turn at riding the hard ridge of his cock.