But Corbin had me where he wanted me, and he wasn’t going to let go.
He grabbed my wrists and pressed them into my lower back. Without my arms to help, it took all my strength to keep my upper body from slamming into the tub. It wouldn’t be long before muscle fatigue left me unable to hold myself up.
Corbin leaned forward, resting his weight at the wet, sticky place where our bodies joined. I moaned. He drove his hips forward. My unprepared ass couldn’t stretch fast enough, and my throaty, desperate cry filled the room.
He was picking up speed. Agony spread from everywhere he touched me.
With each thrust, he grunted, and I felt his cock swelling even larger. The pain became a searing burn. My stomach muscles ached from holding up my torso. I could handle this, but if he continued…
“Wait!” I gasped. “My safe word. Does it still work?”
Corbin went completely still. I glanced apprehensively over my shoulder.
Through his tight shirt, I could see the bulging muscles of his arms and chest.
Then I raised my eyes higher.
The expression on his face made me feel like the floor had been yanked out from under me, like I was a cartoon character who had run foolishly off a cliff and at any moment I was going to plummet to my doom.
“No,” he said.
He yanked his cock out, and my ass burned almost as much as when he’d penetrated me. For a moment, my vision went wavy.
“You don’t need a safe word because I’m done fucking you,” he said in disgust. “I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I’m not going to reward you for being cruel.”
Cruel. It was the one thing all of my dad’s ex-wives had agreed on. That he was cruel.
“How?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. The use of my safe word had saved a man’s life. Asking Corbin now if he could be trusted was profoundly disrespectful.
“You know I didn’t mean it that way,” I said desperately. “I just meant that I knew I couldn’t hold on much longer—”
“So you weren’t trying to insult me, you just don’t trust me. Got it,” he said as he angrily stuffed himself back into his jeans.
“No, that’s not—”
“Isn’t it?”
His lips were turned down in distaste as his gaze ran over my body, my knees still apart, my hands still in place on my lower back. He slowly shook his head, and I saw that he, too, regretted how things had gone.
“Corbin… I’m sorry. I really am. Please don’t hate me.”
“Hate you? I could never…” He shook his head. “Baby, you have to do better. Do it for yourself if you can’t do it for me.”
I flinched as if he’d hit me, and a little cry tore from my throat. I couldn’t hold his gaze. Burning shame unfurled inside me, spreading out from my stomach and growing so hot that I expected flames to erupt from my skin.
He left the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
I sat up and clamped a trembling hand over my mouth.
Already the faint footprints from his shoes were fading from the floor. It was as if he’d never been there at all.
Chapter 6
What could I do but finish my shower?
My libido was turned up too high. All my emotions ran close to the surface. I needed an orgasm, catharsis, but I was too upset to masturbate.
Why the hell had I said what I did? Why did I ask him about the safe word? What the fuck was wrong with me?
It’s something your father would have done.
But I didn’t want to antagonize Corbin. Especially now, when he had so much on his plate.
My thoughts looped back to my father. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to hurt his first four wives, either. Christ, what a role model. It didn’t matter that my mother’s second marriage was healthy. I was much more like my father. Was he cruel? He could do cruel things.
Apparently, so could I. It rarely happened—I’d been as shocked as Corbin by what I’d said—but when I was scared, when my back was to the wall…
The realization made me sick, worse than I’d ever felt in my life. I was a monster. Even if Corbin forgave me, I could never forgive myself.
I used up all the shampoo and conditioner, and I kept washing myself until the shower gel bottle was empty as well.
There wasn’t enough soap in the world to make me feel clean.
Afterward I dried off with a towel the size of a blanket, then continued to scrub at my skin. I didn’t need lotion, but I didn’t want to have to go out there and face Corbin, so I slowly slathered it on. I didn’t want to have the conversation where he’d tell me that we should put our relationship on hold.
I hung up the towel and put on a bathrobe that felt like cuddling a cloud, and I thought about how romantic all this might have been under vastly different circumstances. It was a theoretical concept; I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to stomach romance again.
Cautiously, I swung the door open. The lock, I noticed, was damaged. The hotel wasn’t going to be happy about that.
Corbin must have been so pissed that I’d locked him out. Or concerned about you, a little voice suggested.
I ignored it.
Corbin wasn’t in the bedroom.
I gathered up my dirty clothes and left the bathroom’s warm embrace. A few minutes later, it became clear that Corbin wasn’t anywhere in the suite.
The rush of relief only added to my guilt and regret.
That note Corbin had been holding earlier… Where had it gone? I didn’t see it on the desk or atop any flat surface where he would have left it for me to find.
Maybe he no longer wanted it found.
So I checked the trash cans, and I finally located it inside the wastebasket under the writing desk. It was crumpled into a tight ball.
There was no question as to whether I would read it or not.
I leaned on the desk and smoothed the paper flat, the writing side flipped down so I wouldn’t smudge the ink. He’d used the upscale hotel stationery.
My heart thudded as I finally turned the note over.
Corbin’s messy scrawl: angular letters, no flourishes. Fast and efficient.
Dear Audrey,
Is Paris just like Tijuana?
Please call when you get in. I’ve arranged things so we can spend a couple of hours together.
Miss you, baby.
All my love,
Corbin
His words seemed so optimistic, so hopeful. He’d believed we’d be fine.
Even knowing the truth about his ex-wife, that she was alive, he’d rearranged his schedule to spend time with me, and I’d—
I squeezed my eyes tight and fought the hysteria welling up in my chest, and even though I told myself, over and over, that it was better if he was pissed at me, I wondered.
What if I was wrong?
My eyes flew open. I wasn’t wrong. I knew Corbin. He was loyal. He’d made promises to his wife, and I couldn’t stand in his way.
Coward, a small voice whispered. You’re just afraid he’ll leave you for her.
Yeah, and so what? Cowards tended to live to fight another day.
I tossed the paper back into the wastebasket. And then I picked up the phone and called the office.
Erin answered, “Stroop Finders. Please hold.” She huffed it out in a harried rush.
“Erin—”
But she’d already put me on hold. I wondered what could be distressing our capable receptionist.
The phone pinned between my ear and shoulder, I crouched and unzipped my suitcase, which still sat on the padded bench. My favorite and most flattering jeans were near the top. I pulled them out, along with a pair of lightweight shoes that would be good for walking, and a fashionable white top that hung loosely at the shoulders and draped across the back. I’d bought it thinking Corbin would appreciate it.
Choosing to wear it was perhaps ill-advised, but it was just a shirt. Right?
The phone dropped the call just as I was stepping
into the jeans. Just as well—I needed a bit of leverage to get them over my hips.
They were always a little tight after being washed, but the mirror showed that they molded my ass nicely. I finished dressing, then stuffed my dirty clothes into the side compartment before zipping the suitcase closed and setting it on the floor.
The door opened just as I was pulling up the long handle.
Corbin’s eyes flickered from me to the suitcase, and compassion touched his masculine features. “What are you doing?” His deep voice was low and commanding. “You’re not leaving.”
I opened my mouth to ask why the hell he would want to be around me. But instead I said, “It’s better if I stay somewhere else.” I focused on gathering up my other bags. Despite my resolution that this was the right choice, I was on the brink of tears.
“And then what?” he asked.
“Then sometime later I’ll come back and we can talk.”
“I see. And how do you propose to find someplace else?” Corbin asked, crossing his arms across his muscular chest.
I felt my face heating because it was true that I’d forgotten I was in another country and not just in one of the boutique hotels that Corbin enjoyed whisking me off to for short, romantic getaways. “People in the hospitality industry all speak English.” I licked my dry lips.
He tilted his head slightly, his electric blue-green eyes interrogating mine. It felt too intimate, but I couldn’t look away.
“What just happened was fucked up,” he said. “But that’s not how things are going to end with us. I told you to trust me, and you said you would.”
“But—”
“If we break up, it should be because it’s what you want, not because you’re scared. We’ve been over this.”
My hand tightened around the suitcase’s plastic handle, which was growing slick with sweat. Everything he said sounded so reasonable, but it wasn’t that easy.
The hotel phone rang.
Cursing under his breath, Corbin turned abruptly away to answer it. His familiar scent wafted over me, and tears stung my eyes.
“Oui, allô,” he said. “Of course.” He held out the phone.
I accepted it with a mix of regret and relief. “Hello?”
“Audrey, we’ve got a problem.” It was Rob.
“There’s always a problem,” I pointed out. “Can’t it wait?” I didn’t have the emotional reserves for dealing with whatever else life felt like throwing in my path.
“Hey…” He paused, and I could imagine him leaning against his desk at work, one hand buried in his straight reddish hair. Strike that. He’d be sitting at Dad’s desk. No, wait, Dad was back from the cruise. Theoretically he’d arrived right after Rob had dropped me off at the airport…
“Shit,” I said. “Dad changed his mind about the office expansion.” My voice felt feeble, tense, and I hoped Rob wouldn’t pick up on it.
“No, he didn’t change his mind.” Rob cleared his throat lightly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
I glanced at Corbin, who was standing only a few feet away. His arms were still folded over his chest, and he watched me closely, his expression dispassionate.
“What do you need?” I asked Rob. I had to hurry out the words because I knew I was just moments away from dissolving into a crying mess.
“Erin is trying to get my attention. Can we talk later today or tomorrow?”
I nodded because I didn’t trust my voice. Corbin took the phone and hung up.
He turned, and I couldn’t look at him, but then it didn’t matter because he’d wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his broad chest.
The anxiety began to lessen immediately. It was a physical change, a gradual relaxation of my tense muscles.
Within moments my breathing had slowed, and my lungs filled more deeply. My fears and worries slowly melted away. The longer he held me, the easier I breathed, until finally I felt like I might not spontaneously combust after all.
Sighing, I wrapped my arms around him.
He held me and stroked my damp hair.
“Audrey,” he said, his deep voice so soft it was like a caress. “Look at me.”
I raised my head. The side of my face was warm from being pressed against him.
“What do you see?” he asked.
An easy question, provided I didn’t overanalyze it. “Hot guy, about six foot three, freaky blue-green eyes, dark hair, well-built and well-dressed.” I considered his clothes. “No ripped designer jeans today. I’m surprised.”
“You’d make a great witness,” he said with a gentle laugh. “What else do you see?” he prompted.
He probably didn’t want me to go into the details of his square jaw or the sexy stubble. I shrugged.
“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” he asked.
I waited for him to say something about my green eyes, or that I was short and muscular.
“The love of my life. Ma raison d’être. My everything. Audrey. Audrey, I’ll always love my ex-wife, and I’ll always love you. Even if today is the last time we ever see each other, fifty years from now, I’ll still love you. I’ll still love you both.”
He’d told me this before, but I still sucked in a quick, hot breath. Tears stung my eyes, and I fought them with all my might.
“But I’m in love with you,” he continued in his deep, rumbling voice. “I look at you and see a future filled with happiness.”
I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. “I believe you,” I managed in a shaky exhalation. “But you haven’t seen her in years. Why can’t you understand what a risk it is for me?”
“A point you brought up before, when all this was theoretical,” he said. “Nothing. Has. Changed. But we’re not going to argue about it. Later, we’ll discuss this calmly. Now, if you’re comfortable with staying here and sharing a room, let’s get something to eat. Otherwise I’ll find you another hotel, and then we’ll get some food.”
I exhaled. I still didn’t feel great, but compared to how things had been? It was a definite improvement.
Corbin looked down and frowned. “Where’s the ring I gave you?”
“In my suitcase.” It was in the pocket of the jeans I’d been wearing at the airport. I’d taken it off when I received his text. “It didn’t feel appropriate to wear it.”
He twisted his mouth into an uneven smile, and I loved him so much it hurt. “It’s appropriate to wear it,” he said as he tucked my hair behind my ear. “Ok?”
“Ok,” I said, and I meant it with all my being.
Chapter 7
Corbin apparently had no desire for a fancy meal, because he led me to a narrow alley. We queued up in front of a falafel stand that was little more than a hole in the wall. The French equivalent of a lunch truck?
There were only ten items on the menu, which included photos. But I let Corbin order for us both.
We waited in silence for our order. I wondered if he was thinking about what had happened in the hotel bathroom, about the horrible things I’d said. I certainly was.
Corbin took the food, and we walked across a busy street that was intersected by a bridge. To my right, vendors sold souvenirs and old-looking books out of green wooden structures affixed to the wall. I hadn’t noticed them on the way from the hotel.
We descended a long set of stone steps that took us from street level to the paved riverbank. Although everything looked to be in good repair, dark grass grew between the cracks. I wondered how old the steps and bridges were.
“That shirt suits you,” Corbin said. “Is it new?”
Grateful for a neutral topic of conversation, I looked down at the gracefully draped material. “I chose it for the trip.”
“It’s sophisticated and sexy. I wish I’d bought it for you. You should have charged it to my card.”
“Yeah, about your card… I appreciate the sentiment, but I think we should add it to the list of things to discuss later.”
“R
eluctantly added to the list,” he said, and he squeezed my hand.
We walked past several docked boats. They were like the ones I’d seen earlier, and I wondered if the tours were any good.
Finally Corbin led me to the edge of the path, right to the river. The tall stone walls looked sturdy enough, but it surprised me that there wasn’t a safety rail to stop people from accidentally falling in.
I sat on a slight angle. Rather than dangle my feet over the water, I crossed my legs. Not easy in tight jeans, but I managed. Corbin sat beside me.
Skinny guys in tight shorts whizzed by on old-fashioned roller skates, and people my age walked in small groups. They laughed and joked around, the cadences of their speech musical.
Corbin opened the foil around the top of a pita, revealing creamy hummus and mouthwatering falafel. He handed it over. I took a tentative bite, and my taste buds rejoiced.
“Super yummy,” I said. I had to cover my mouth because I hadn’t waited to swallow before speaking.
Corbin’s smile nearly stopped my heart. “Best in the world,” he said. “Back when I traveled all the time, if I had a layover through de Gaulle, I’d often swing into the city to get one. Even missed a flight once because of it.”
“Intentionally?”
“I had to wait six hours for the next plane, and it included two layovers.” He gave me a look and raised an eyebrow. “Nothing tastes that good except you.”
Blushing, I rolled my eyes.
His phone rang, and he leaned back so he could fish it out of his front pocket. I took another bite and used a napkin to wipe the zesty hummus off my lips.
“For you,” he said, holding out the phone.
“What?”
“Your mother.”
I’d completely forgotten to call her. “Can you tell her I’m asleep?”
He raised an eyebrow, but he answered the call. Instead of lying, he simply said, “She arrived safely. I’ll make sure she calls you later. Yes, I promise.” He hung up.
“Why does my mother have your phone number?”
“I gave it to her,” he said. “She and Rob have my number and the number for the hotel room.”
Broken by a Dangerous Man Page 4
