Momentary Lapse

by Toni J Strawn

  Cole pressed against her back, nudging her lower so she opened further and the root of his cock pounded against her sex. He played with the pretty, pink peaks of her nipples, feeling her stiffen as the sensations increased. Became too much. He found her clit and she let out a cry, but one little touch was all she got as his thumb dipped back into her damp juices. Cole had other plans. He trailed the creamy liquid up to the pucker of her ass. Madison tensed.

  “Keep going,” he whispered urgently.

  She bucked back to meet his steady rhythm and he rewarded her by pressing his thumb against her ass. Her pace stuttered. Cole slid the hand kneading her breasts down her belly to curve into the manicured strip of her mound.

  “Don’t slow down,” he commanded. His eyes locked on hers in the mirror, forcing her to understand what he saw. Sweat sheened her face, her mouth open, air blowing out in little breaths across the glass. “Don’t think. Just feel,” he ordered as her eyes widened.

  Cole felt her moan rather than heard it. He pushed harder against her ass, at the same time finding the swollen bundle of nerves just begging to be petted. One hand on her clit, one playing with her ass, Cole drove his thumb a little deeper. Her legs started shaking, and as his thumb breached her anus, she clenched around him, an untamed, feral look on her face.

  The sight sent Cole tumbling over the edge, the sensation a brutal, exquisite ambush. He came so hard, everything else just stopped. Fuck. He’d never felt anything so good.

  He fought for breath, clutching Madison to him as any lingering reservations he had about being with her shut off with a definite click.

  * * * * *

  Fingers whispered over her skin. Madison smiled, turning sleepily into arms that had stayed wrapped around her all night.

  All night.

  The first hint of storm clouds nudged at her conscience.

  Please. Don’t let it be morning.

  But, even with her eyes closed, Madison could see the light seeping beneath her eyelashes…letting reality in.

  Logan.

  Her mother.

  Oh god. Before she could stop them, recriminations came calling and her eyelids flickered. If her mother could see her now…

  Madison imagined her face. Perfectly contoured lips clenched together and that resigned, disappointed look.

  Closing her eyes did nothing to lessen the impact of her imagination. There was nothing she could do about it now. Nothing she wanted to do. Years of being told how to act, who to talk to, and what to say had flown out the window last night.

  Now it was over and Madison was supposed to act like it hadn’t happened? She’d never participated in a one-night-stand—although her night with Cole could hardly be called that. More like a one night, all night stand, sit, lie, lick, suck and fuck fest.

  A giggle bubbled in her throat as the words tumbled through her brain. Words Cole had whispered to her as he’d covered every inch of her skin with his tongue, filled her with the hardness of his cock until she screamed.

  She swallowed. Her throat was still raw. She’d never known half of the things he had done to her could be done.

  And her mother would never accept that as a good enough reason to act like a slut.

  Oh, shit. Madison leapt out of bed like a scalded cat. Lunch today.

  She spun around. Cole lay watching her, a lazy smile on his face. She tried not to notice how good he looked. His hair was mussed into a tangle of blond locks, his hooded half-stare waking up her hormones with a happy good morning. Sensuality practically sizzled off the bed sheets, begging her to crawl back in there with him. He was, in a word, magnificent.

  Madison ripped her gaze away, guilt making it hard to keep drinking in his wanton stare. She’d promised herself one night.

  That night was over.

  “I’d ask if you have any regrets, but I see you’ve found plenty.” Cole lifted himself up on one elbow with a grimace.

  Madison’s frown deepened. Why would she be ashamed of what’d happened last night? It hadn’t been just about sex. Not for her. More of an awakening.

  “No. No regrets.”

  She hadn’t held back. Madison had given everything, things she hadn’t even known about herself. One reckless night to be someone else—anyone else—except Madison St. James.

  She blushed as scenes flashed back, reminding her how far she’d gone. Touching herself in front of him, riding his cock, being pounded in front of the mirror, head thrown back while she screamed his name…

  Had she really done all of those things?

  “Yes. Regrets.” He cocked his brow, his stare lingering on her cheeks as they heated.

  Madison looked away. “No. I just have things to do.” She checked the time on the bedside clock and let out a gasp. “You really have to go,” she urged, her ribs squeezing tight as something close to panic filled her chest.

  She didn’t have time to hustle him out. Madison launched into a frenzy of activity, throwing open the curtains, scooping up discarded bits of clothing. Not that she could wear any of them. One didn’t visit Patricia St. James in second-day clothes—especially ones involved in last night’s debauchery.

  “Why?” Cole still hadn’t budged from his spot on the bed, despite the fact she needed him to leave. Like, five minutes ago.

  Madison scowled harder. “I’m meeting my mother. For lunch.” She flung his pants at his head, trying to impress on him the urgency of the situation.

  Cole relaxed, his mouth curving into a sexy grin. “Plenty of time.” He patted the bed. “It’s only nine thirty.”

  “I know!” Madison almost screeched. It took that much time to build up her outer layers, a thick impenetrable wall of charm and perfection to pass her mother’s critical eye. “Why do you think I’m in a hurry? I mean, look at me.” She shuddered in disgust at her reflection, already imagining the acerbic tone her mother would employ. “My hair is a complete rat’s nest. I still have streaks of make-up left from last night and I really need to iron my trouser suit. That alone will take me half an hour.”

  And she still needed time to calm herself. Her nerves were churning with the thought of having to explain to her mother about Logan. The sick feeling in her stomach intensified and Madison wrapped her arms about her. All the time in the world would never be enough to prepare for that.

  Cole looked like he could burst out laughing at any second. Madison wanted to yell at him to leave, but the smoldering look as he ran an assessing eye over her body caused her to falter.

  “You are fucktastic just as you are,” he grinned. “I like that look. A lot. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so good.”

  His sexy tone lured her and Madison drifted closer, almost within touching distance of the bed. Cole flexed his shoulders, his arms lifting into a lithe stretch that highlighted every ridge of hard muscle. Oh, and there was a lot of him. A lot of sexy him. A few more inches and her hands would be all over the sleek heat of his skin.

  Madison stopped. Wow. How had he done that? With only a few words Cole had turned back the clock and they were still lovers, lusting after each other like there was no tomorrow.

  And there was no tomorrow, she told herself firmly, the reminder dousing her with a cold shower of reality.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She turned, unable to face his disappointment any longer. The bedsheets rustled, then came the thud of feet as Cole got out of bed. Got dressed. A sharp pang pierced below Madison’s breast and she rubbed at the spot self-consciously. She twisted back.

  “It’s just… You don’t know my mother.” The words dropped out before she could stop them. Her excuse sounded lame, even to her. No matter how true it was.

  Cole seemingly agreed. “I bet I do. In fact, I guarantee I know exactly what your mother is like.” The derision in his voice was ice crawling through Madison’s veins. “Just like I
know about the real you and how you live in a world where pretense is everything. It’s all about what everyone else sees on the outside, isn’t it? Last night you told me you wanted something real.” He stared at her pitilessly. “You enjoyed it. But not enough to give up the pretense.”

  Each word was delivered like a blow. Madison endured each hammer fall, her anger rising. Cole knew nothing about her life. He had no idea what she had done to get here. And with her mother and her break-up with Logan riding on her shoulders, Madison didn’t have time to waste on his blinkered views.

  “Yes. You’re right.” She confronted him with a bitter laugh, surprised she could speak past the clawing ache in her chest. “Why should I give up the pretense? It’s what attracted you, isn’t it? When you picked me up last night? Out hunting for a rich lay.”

  Cole’s lips tightened, but he didn’t refute her accusation.

  Madison was sickened by the truth. “So, why bother hanging around?” she mocked. “What? Are you disappointed I didn’t leave you a tip?”

  She made a show of grabbing for her bag and rifling through for her wallet. She almost missed the flash of dark regret in Cole’s eyes as his expression closed in.

  “I wouldn’t touch your money.” Disgust laced his voice. “This was obviously a mistake. One I won’t be making again.”

  Madison could do nothing but watch him go. If she’d had time, she might have cried, but the thought of lunch with her mother drove her on. She rushed around the room, pushing through the routines that would cover the cracks in her disintegrating life.

  And Cole was wrong, she thought, ruthlessly scrubbing the scent of his body from hers. It wasn’t her pretense she lived with every day.

  It was her mother’s.

  Madison was the mark Patricia St. James measured herself by. And she had very exacting standards.

  Chapter Six

  There was only one way it would go when Patricia St. James found out about Madison’s broken engagement.

  Badly.

  No point sugar-coating the fact.

  Madison sat in the back of the cab on the way to her mother’s, bile burning her throat. Of all the things that had happened since finding out about Logan’s infidelity, anticipating her mother’s reaction to the whole fiasco would be the worst. Patricia had worked hard to secure Madison a good marriage. A good name. Good breeding. To her mother, it meant everything.

  And Madison usually played along. She’d never had a reason not to.

  It had been this way, from the moment Patricia had recognized Madison’s beauty was something that could be used to her advantage. She’d worked her daughter hard, taught her how to trot out phony speeches on saving the earth, feeding the hungry, making the world a better place. Madison could tap dance, belt out the national anthem, all while strutting in front of a crowd wearing a skimpy bikini.

  But could she keep one lousy fiancé?

  No.

  And that, Patricia would find impossible to get past. Going back to the poverty they’d crawled out of was the one thing that terrified her. Madison too. Losing her mother to the person she’d been back then was something Madison didn’t want to revisit. With her unpredictable moods, often going days without being talked to, followed by outbursts of anger. Yelling. Crying. Beatings.

  Madison had promised her mother over and over that she’d never do anything to risk the position they had now.

  Despite the cool interior of the car, perspiration dampened Madison’s skin. She flapped her hands in front of her face and the burn in her muscles was a comforting reminder of last night’s activity. Her legs too. A smile nipped at her lips as she recalled just how long said legs had spent twined around various parts of Cole. His hips, his shoulders, his wicked mouth…

  Madison shifted in her seat. This wasn’t the time to remember things she could not have.

  She took a breath, employing the same technique she’d used as a kid when she’d suffered crippling bouts of stage fright. Her mother had taught her all the tricks to reach a state of inner calm…

  Count backwards from ten, a touch to make sure your hair is flawless, eyes wide aaannnndddddd…smile.

  Madison worked through the routine twice until a measure of composure settled over her. She knew it had worked when the driver glanced in the rear vision mirror and offered a smile.

  “You look happy, Miss. Going home?”

  Madison inclined her head gracefully, her mouth stretching further. “Why, thank you. Yes. I am visiting my mother and stepfather.” She intoned with impeccable politeness.

  His eyes crinkled appreciably. “Well, I’m sure they’ll be very pleased to see you.”

  Madison kept the smile on her face, even as her stomach lurched sideways. The sick feeling magnified when the St. James mansion rose majestically from its grove of Princeton elms. Her heart leaped into her throat and she dug in her bag for her compact to check her reflection one last time.

  Lipstick.

  Perfect outline and bow.

  Eyebrows.

  High arch, faultlessly smoothed.

  Skin.

  She twisted the mirror left and right, up and down, rechecking twice for shiny spots before settling back in her seat.

  Prior to last night, Madison had been prepared to let her mother talk her into going back to Logan. Prepared to talk herself into believing he wasn’t so bad. Rationalize his behavior. That would be the easy—cowardly—thing to do. To allay her mother’s fears of a downhill slide back to the gutter they’d risen from. But after the honesty Madison had faced in herself with Cole last night, she wasn’t sure she could do the right thing anymore.

  The band encasing her chest clenched a little tighter as the cab pulled to a stop in front of the house. One more touch of her hair and she stepped from the car, smoothing out the creases in her cream, linen trousers.

  The housekeeper came to the door to greet her. “Your mother is expecting you in the morning room.”

  “Thank you, Marie.” Madison nodded and sucked in her breath.

  Time for the show.

  Lunch was true Patricia St. James style. A bowl of exotic salad leaves, topped with shavings of lean chicken breast and buttons of blue cheese.

  Ick.

  Her mother knew Madison hated blue cheese. Yet she persisted in serving it, hoping to break Madison’s palate from nasty, nasty habits—feed her mac and cheese any day.

  She sacrificed her last sliver of chicken to hide the cheese, then lay her salad fork carefully across the plate to indicate she’d finished.

  Her stomach protested with a low grumble.

  “Really Madison. Must you?” Her mother shot a pained look across the table. Then her eyes arrowed in like a hawk to Madison’s hand. “Where is your engagement ring?” She nodded toward her bare fingers. “Don’t tell me you’ve lost it!”

  The ring. The food she’d just eaten rebelled in Madison’s stomach and she fought against the urge to throw up. Did she tell her? Now? Her thoughts took on a frantic edge. No. She wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. Not without barfing all over the table. And that would never do…

  “Oh, no.” She caught hold of her composure and let out a high, tinkling laugh. “It’s in my bag.” She made a show of picking up her clutch and claiming the ring from the side pocket. “It catches…on things, so I took it off.”

  “Well, put it on for goodness sake,” Patricia snapped. “Everybody needs to see you’re engaged to Logan. Otherwise tongues will start wagging.”

  “Sorry,” Madison mumbled.

  She slipped the jumbo-sized diamond back on her finger, barely holding back her repugnance at the sight of it. Glitzy. Pretentious. And apparently the only real thing in her engagement to Logan.

  Her mother continued to delicately nibble at her salad. Madison watched with morbid fascination as each morsel was pierced by her fork
and disappeared between perfectly coral-coated lips to be chewed twenty times before swallowing.

  Another belly-gurgle erupted. Patricia frowned and Madison pressed her hand to her stomach. She cleared her throat.

  “Really, you must tell Rosa the chicken was fantastic. I could have eaten it twice.” Madison threw out a not so subtle hint. After missing breakfast, a few lettuce leaves weren’t going to do it.

  Her mother glanced up sharply, then carefully placed her fork beside her dish. “Surely not, Madison. You haven’t finished what is on your plate.” She looked purposefully at the remains of the chicken in the bowl. Of course, Patricia knew exactly where the blue cheese hid. “Besides, you need to be careful with your figure.” Her mother picked up her fork to resume eating. “Filling up with protein will stretch your stomach. You want to be in shape for the wedding. What would Logan think?”

  What indeed.

  Madison squeezed one hand tightly in the other, working hard to pull up a conciliatory smile. “You’re right,” she agreed finally. No point provoking Patricia by revealing how little Logan did think of her. And fidelity.

  It took her mother another ten agonizing minutes to finish the last few lettuce leaves on her plate. By which time, Madison held her stomach so tight she thought she might bust a rib. She’d eyed up the flower arrangement more than once.

  “Let’s adjoin to the conservatory, shall we?” Her mother laid down her cutlery and dabbed her lips with her napkin. “I can tell you how your wedding plans are progressing.”

  Madison hid her grimace and followed her down the long passageway to the glassed-in area at the rear of the mansion. Exotic potted plants showered the room in an explosion of green, white wicker furniture strategically placed between waxen-leaved palms with white, buttery flowers, Hawaiian Naupaka. The air was scented. A sweet floral fragrance, overlaid with hints of rich earth and sunshine.

  This room had always been one of her favorites. Madison took a deep breath and drew on the peaceful surroundings to soothe her nerves. It didn’t help. She perched on the edge of the chair opposite her mother.