Breaching the Contract

by Chantal Fernando

  He puts it down with a grin and then turns to me. “You look beautiful today.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, hand rising to my cheeks. “I have no idea what we’re doing here, Tristan.”

  “Well, we’re going to go to court today and kick ass, and then after that I’m going to take you home with me, and we’re going to have dinner with the kids. And when they fall asleep, I’m going to take you into my room and go down on you until you’re screaming my name.”

  I open my mouth and then close it. “Did you just say that?”

  He nods.

  I purse my lips and stand. “Fine, but I want to sit on your face.”

  I ignore the laughter I hear on my way out.

  “KAT, LOOK WHAT I made at school today!” Logan waves a painting in my face, showing it off excitedly. “How cool is it?”

  “Very cool,” I reply, taking it from him and inspecting it. “You should be an artist.”

  Tristan is in the kitchen cooking us dinner. I don’t know what he’s making, but I’m perched on the couch with Logan and Laura, my feet up and a glass of red wine in my hand. I told Tristan that I don’t mind cooking, or we could even order something in, but he insisted. I personally think he’s just trying to show off his domesticated side. Apparently Tristan is a man who can do it all. Dominate in the courtroom, bedroom, and kitchen.

  If he’s not careful, he’s going to be stuck with me.

  “How was your day, Laura?” I ask the blue-eyed beauty. She’s got her phone in her hand, although I don’t know why she has one at her age. My dad would’ve laughed in my face if I had asked for one, but I guess we live in a different time now.

  “Good,” she says, lifting her head up. “I got chosen as volleyball captain.”

  “Congrats,” I tell her, impressed. “I played volleyball as a kid, and I loved it.”

  “I’m outside hitter,” she says proudly.

  “Awesome,” I tell her. “Maybe one day I can come and watch one of your games.”

  “Okay,” Laura says, offering me a smile. “That would be cool. My friends want to meet you.”

  She’s been talking about me to her friends?

  Surprise fills me. Laura was always the one a little hesitant, a little unsure of me. I think it’s because she doesn’t know whether it’s a betrayal to her or not. I remember when my father dated I would feel the same, and my mother left by choice. So her telling her friends about me means a lot.

  “I’d love to meet your friends, Laura,” I tell her, smiling, warmth filling me.

  I’m in a bit of a tricky place right now. I don’t want to act like their stepmom or anything along those lines. I mean, geez, Tristan and I only became a thing last night, but at the same time, I’ve already spent time with them and care about them without having anything to do with Tristan. I want to be how I was, friends with them, and I don’t want to cross any lines or make it look like I’m trying to insert myself into their lives when that’s not the case.

  “I’m coming too, then,” Logan announces, flashing a wide smile at me.

  “You’re too charming for your own good,” I tell him.

  He winks at me, then starts laughing.

  “Did you just wink at me?” I ask, eyes going wide. “Are you flirting with me, Logan?”

  He smiles and wraps his arms around me. “What does flirting mean?”

  “It means that you’re trying to charm me and get my attention because you like me,” I try to explain to him.

  “Well then, yes, I’m flirting with you,” he says, and my heart melts.

  I give him a tight hug, and then stand up. “I’m going to check on dinner’s progress.”

  And refill my wine.

  chapter 15

  TRISTAN MADE MY FAVORITE meal, the steak one I told him about at the restaurant that day. He even made a perfect mushroom-pepper sauce. Seriously, where did this man come from?

  “It’s better than the one I ate that day,” I tell him, moaning as the soft beef hits my tongue. “I swear there’s nothing you can’t do, Tristan.”

  “Braid my hair,” Laura suggests, taking a bite of one of her fries. “Or let me talk to boys without losing his temper.”

  “Let us eat junk food,” Logan offers, grinning at his dad. “Or sing. He can’t sing at all.”

  I can’t stop laughing as his kids continue to bring his flaws to light, or at least, his flaws in their eyes.

  “Thanks, guys,” Tristan tells them, shaking his head. He turns to me and adds, “See what you started?”

  “I didn’t start anything,” I deny, winking at the kids. “I’m just sitting here, enjoying this delicious meal and minding my own business.”

  “You mind your own business as much as Yvonne and Hunter do.” He smirks, looking down at my plate as I all but destroy everything on it. “Do you want another steak?”

  I shake my head, eyes going wide. “No, thank you. It was amazing though. If I eat anything else I think I’ll explode.”

  We all finish up dinner, and Tristan gets the kids’ bedtime routine sorted while I clean up the kitchen, then hang out in front of the TV. Both kids come to say good night and give me a hug, which I find really sweet. As soon as they’re both fast asleep, the atmosphere instantly changes. I turn off the TV, and with my glass in hand, move toward his bedroom without checking to see if he follows.

  He does, of course, and I strip down to my bra and panties and lie back on his huge bed, my eyes telling him that I’m in the mood to play.

  He strips off his T-shirt, and I allow myself to take my time exploring his muscular body with my eyes. He has a perfect build. Toned chest and his abs are perfectly defined. I want nothing more than to trace them with my tongue. He looks younger than his thirty-one years, more fit than even I had expected. Last night was surprising, exciting, and mind-blowing, but I never got to really take my time and explore every inch of him.

  Now’s my chance.

  My gaze locks on his deep V indentures and then to his cock, which is still covered by basketball shorts. He truly is an incredible man. He could be on the cover of a fucking magazine if he wanted to, but instead he has a high-power career and completely dominates in his field. On top of that, he’s also an amazing father and completely dotes on his two children. He should be so proud of himself.

  He removes his shorts next, leaving him completely naked before me.

  “Do you know how sexy you are?” I ask him, shaking my head. “It’s hard to believe you’re real.”

  I put my glass down on the side table and slide my feet off the bed. Standing in front of him, I place a kiss on the center of his smooth chest and start to kiss down his abs, tracing the ridges with my tongue, then following them with my fingers. Sitting back on the bed, I take his cock in my hands and glance up at him, locking eyes as I take him into my mouth. He steps back from me, my hands dropping.

  “Lay back,” he demands, stroking his own cock in front of me. I force myself to look away and do as he says.

  “Good girl,” he praises. “Now spread those thighs for me.”

  I spread my thighs and lift my head to see his expression. He’s looking in between my legs, as if mesmerized, kind of like how I was only moments ago. I decide to tease him how he did me, and reach between my legs and start to play with myself, stroking my clit and then sliding a finger inside.

  “Fuck,” he growls, and begins to stroke himself faster, then closes the space between us, gently pushing my hands away and replacing them with his mouth and tongue.

  I gasp, spreading my thighs even further, lifting my head to watch him as he pleasures me. He rolls me over onto my stomach and lifts my hips up so I’m all on fours, licking me from behind for a few moments before sliding inside me in one smooth thrust. I bite down on his bedsheets and push back against him while he starts to move inside me, harder,
faster. Then he starts to play with my clit, driving me crazy with need. I could fuck him forever and never tire of it. I don’t think I’ve ever been so comfortable with a man so soon. He pulls out of me, lays his head back on the bed in between my thighs and pulls my hips down so I’m sitting on his face. His index finger lazily slides over my back entrance, while his tongue works his magic.

  It feels so good, and it’s not long until he makes me come, once, twice, and then a third time with him inside of me.

  Tristan Channing is the definition of a gentleman in the streets and a freak in the sheets.

  WHEN YVONNE STEPS INTO my office, an odd expression on her face, I get a bad feeling.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask her, standing up. Is this about Tristan? Maybe she’s upset to see him with another woman, even if it’s just gossip and hearsay at this point. I don’t want Yvonne to hate me—she’s been kind to me since the first day I walked in here. Tristan and I have been together for a few weeks now, and I guess it would make sense that everyone knows the truth.

  “There’s a man here to see Tristan,” she says, frowning. “He’s not in, but I think we need to call him in.”

  “What does the man want?” I ask her, wondering if it’s some type of emergency.

  She shifts on her feet but doesn’t give me an answer. “Can you call him and tell him?”

  I nod.

  “I’ll tell the gentleman to wait,” she says, exiting the room swiftly.

  “Okay,” I say, wondering what the hell this could all be about. I pick up my cell phone and call him.

  “Was just thinking about you, beautiful” is the first thing he says into the line. “I was thinking I could take you out on a proper date tonight. Anne will stay back with the kids. How does dinner and a movie sound?”

  “It sounds perfect, but, Tristan, where are you right now? Can you come into the office?” I ask, trying to keep my tone even to not freak him out. I don’t even know what this is about, and I don’t know how serious of an issue it is.

  “I’m about ten minutes away, was just going to the prison,” he tells me, his tone turning worried. “I can come there now. Is everything okay?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit, taking a deep breath. “Yvonne just said there’s a man here to see you and that you should come.”

  He’s quiet for a few seconds, but then says, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  We hang up, and I can’t help but step to the reception desk to see what this man looks like.

  “He’s on his way, Yvonne,” I let her know, then sneak a glance at him.

  He looks to be in his early thirties, with blond hair and green eyes. He’s fit, he obviously takes care of himself, and he’s well dressed too, wearing slacks and a shirt.

  Just who is this man?

  Without any other excuse to stick around, I walk back to my office and sit down, tapping my foot on the floor, hoping that this isn’t something that will upset Tristan. Is this man a client of his? What else could it be? What feels like hours later but is only about twenty minutes, Tristan returns. He comes into my office and closes the door behind him.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask him, standing up and rushing over to him. “What was it?”

  “I don’t know yet,” he says, pulling me into his embrace. “I told him to wait for me in my office, I just wanted to see you first.”

  His lips are then on mine in a gentle yet hungry kiss, one that distracts me a little from the current situation. When he pulls away, I’m left feeling dizzy.

  “I’ll be back,” he murmurs, leaving the room.

  I sit down and try to get some work done. It’s hard though, when I have no idea what’s going on in the other room.

  I have no idea what this could be.

  chapter 16

  WHEN TRISTAN LEAVES WITHOUT so much as a word to me, I know something is wrong.

  “What happened?” I ask Yvonne, worried.

  “I don’t know,” she murmurs, biting her lower lip. “The man said he needed to see Tristan, it was very important and involved Logan.”

  “Logan?” I repeat, fear slithering inside my body. “Is Logan okay?” Now I start to panic.

  I grab my bag and get ready to call it a day early. I don’t care who knows what from my actions, but I need to make sure Logan and Tristan are okay. I get into my car and drive straight to his house. Rushing to the door, I knock hard a few times. Tristan answers, and from the look in his eyes I can tell one thing.

  He is not okay.

  “What happened? Is Logan all right?” I ask, trying to look behind him to see if he’s here.

  “He’s okay,” he assures me, stepping aside so I can come in. I see Logan sitting on the floor playing with tiny toy soldiers, and I sit down next to him, laughing when he looks up and notices me, and then gives me a big hug. Tristan must have pulled him out from school early today.

  “Hey, buddy,” I tell him, arms around him. “Nice to see you again so soon.”

  “Hey, Kat,” he says, letting go of me and handing me a toy. “You can play with this one.”

  “Awesome,” I say, glancing up at Tristan, who is watching the two of us. I play with him for a little while and then step into the kitchen, where Tristan is staring out the window.

  “Will you please tell me what happened?” I ask in a gentle tone.

  “Do you know how much I loved my wife, Kat?” he starts, and I look down at his words and let him continue. “I loved her so much, I never even looked at another woman. And after she passed away, you’re only the second woman I’ve been with. I’m not the type to sleep around, and she was the only one I ever wanted.”

  I don’t know what this has to do with today, but I let him finish.

  “I put her on a pedestal. I didn’t think I’d ever love again, I thought that was pretty much it for me, that my time with her was all I’d be given, and I’d begun to accept that.” He takes a deep breath and turns to the side to look at me. “The man who came to the office today claims he slept with her. That she cheated on me with him.”

  My eyes widen in shock. What the fuck?

  His next words break my heart, so I can’t imagine what they’ve done to his. “He says that Logan is his.”

  I still. Everything inside me freezes, and for a few moments all I feel inside and out is icy coldness. I rub my chest, hoping the pain there will go away as I ask, “What proof does he have?”

  “Photos of them together,” he says, tone emotionless. “Letters. Emails.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s Logan’s father,” I say, lifting my chin. “Does he want to do a DNA test?”

  He nods. “He wants one, yes.”

  The way he says it makes me ask, “But you aren’t going to give him one?”

  Tristan shakes his head.

  The man could apply to the court for them to make an order for the DNA test, if he has enough evidence and reasoning. That can take some time though, especially if he’s going up against a man like Tristan. Still, it’s inevitable that Tristan would eventually have to give the man what he wants, even if it’s in a year’s time.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to know right now?” I ask him in a small voice.

  “No,” he says harshly, shaking his head. “Logan is my son, Kat. It doesn’t matter either way. So this Franklin Thompson guy can prepare for war, because he’s not going near Logan.”

  He faces the window again, and I hug him from behind, offering him silent support in the only way I know how. Not only does he have to deal with the fact that Logan might not be his, he’s also fighting his past, now knowing that the woman he married was unfaithful to him.

  A hard hit no matter how much time has passed since she’s been gone.

  Memories, damaged.

  Questions—now unanswered.

  And as for us, ho
w are we going to make it through this?

  Long-lasting, deep relationships probably wouldn’t survive something like this, so what chance do we have? Tristan and I only just found each other. We don’t know everything about each other yet; we haven’t had a lot of time together. How are we going to pull through this one? And why does our first obstacle have to be such a mountain?

  “Tell me what you need me to do to help, Tristan,” I ask him.

  “I just . . . I just need some time alone to think, Kat. I need to sort my head out. I’m not going to be good company right now,” he tells me, stepping out of my reach.

  He wants me to go.

  He’s pushing me away.

  I’ll give him that . . . for now.

  “Okay,” I say, stepping to him and giving him a peck on the lips. “If you need anything, anything at all, give me a call,” I tell him. “I’m here for you, no matter what, Tristan.”

  He nods but stays quiet.

  I say ’bye to Logan, get in my car, and go home.

  Alone.

  How things can change in such a short time.

  TRISTAN TAKES THE REST of the week off work, and I try to pick up the slack as much as I can. Why do I feel like the weight of the firm is on my shoulders? Thank God for Hunter.

  Tristan doesn’t call me, message me, or return my emails when I contact him. He’s trying to cut me out, push me away. His wife betrayed him, and now I’m paying the consequences. I shouldn’t even call her his wife anymore, because she’s not even here. She’s just a ghost that seems to still be haunting him, first in a good way, and now in a bad way. And Logan . . . what if he isn’t Tristan’s biological son? He’s still his, either way. But I don’t see how this can end without someone getting hurt. How come this man took so long to come forward with this information? I’d ask Tristan, except he’s clearly avoiding me.

  He needs time, and I’m going to give him that, for another few days at least, but then I’m going to push my way back in.