“I don’t think that would be wise,” I tell him, but inside I hate myself for not saying yes. I want him. I want to relive what we did together. I’ve thought about it nonstop since I left Vegas. A part of me—a very big part—wants to throw caution to the wind and agree. Titan moves his hand to reach up and push some of my hair out of my face. The simple gesture is sweet in a way that makes that nervous flutter in my stomach deepen, but it also causes the handcuff to rattle against my wrist—reminding me of why I can’t give in to my body’s demands where Titan Marsh is concerned.
“It’s okay. After all, we’re married,” he jokes but the moment has passed and I ignore the sparkle in his eye because I’m slowly coming back to reality.
“Not for very long since you’re supposed to be calling your lawyer,” I respond. Then I hold up my hand, bringing his up as I do it. I shake it slightly. “Can you undo these? I need to go pee.”
He frowns, the light dimming in his eyes—which is sad, but necessary. He shifts underneath me—a movement that causes his cock to push deeper against me. It takes a supreme effort, but I ignore how good that feels. His hand shuffles through the drawer and comes out with a key. In a movement that is too practiced and smooth, he undoes the lock. It would be best not to dwell on that particular talent that Titan has.
“Your wish is my command,” he says and I push up from him, sliding off his body.
“Thanks,” I mumble and walk quickly to the restroom. It takes effort not to run. I need away from him that much. Once I shut the door, I collapse against it. My heart is hammering against my chest. I’m not ready for Titan. My sisters are right. I am stupid when it comes to men. You would think after the mess I was in with Brad I wouldn’t have even looked at another man—let alone marry him. I go to the sink and look in the mirror. “You’re a stupid girl,” I tell my reflection as I splash water on my face.
Through the door I hear Titan moving around. That nervousness in my stomach tightens. I made a huge mistake with Brad. He was a pretty boy and did his best to impress me at every turn—until he didn’t. I thought he was strong; someone I could trust. He was as weak as they come. He taught me a lesson and he taught it hard. I will never forget that lesson; it’s deep inside of me now. It bubbles to the surface when I least expect it.
It surfaced the morning I left Titan and Vegas in my rearview mirror. That was the main reason I ran away without a word. Now, standing in front of a mirror and the harsh florescent light of the bathroom, I can feel that same fear bubbling up.
There’s only one major difference.
I’m not thinking of running right now. I’m thinking of going back in there and climbing into Titan’s bed and taking him up on his offer—and that brings a fear bigger than anything I’ve ever felt. I have to be out of my mind.
But am I?
Titan is nothing like Brad, as near as I can tell. Brad is a “pretty” boy, smooth as a California coastline. There’s nothing smooth about Titan, except the way his body moves as it powers into me—which is better not to think about right now. Still, Titan is rough around the edges. He doesn’t feed you lines; he just plain tells you like it is. I never wonder where I’m standing when it comes to Titan. With Brad I always did—even when I thought I came first to him.
I shut down my thoughts. I have to.
I’m actually considering….
What? Keeping Titan? He tracked me down to get a divorce. Even if I wanted to keep him, he doesn’t want me.
That reminder is like a slap in the face and brings me back down to earth quick. I turn on the shower with a shake of my head. Titan will get in touch with his lawyer and have papers for me to sign and it will be over. Then I’ll jump in my car and head to Arkansas.
I’ll leave Titan behind and I’ll do it for good this time.
I have to.
18
Titan
I hear the shower come on and close my damn eyes. There was a moment there I thought Faith was going to take me up on my offer. It was an offer I had no business making, but one I hoped like hell she’d say yes to. Fuck, the time for thinking with my dick should be over—but here I am. I have no excuses, absolutely none. I’m not a young kid hitting the field with a buffet of pussy waiting for me to fill up my plate and come back for seconds. There’s never been a shortage of women in my life. I’ve enjoyed many, but Faith is different. Sounds fucking crazy as hell, but it’s true. I’ve never had this strong of a reaction to a woman before. Maybe it’s because we’ve had sex and I can’t remember all of it. Maybe it’s because what I can remember is fucking phenomenal and I want more—only this time I want to do it sober and savor every second. That’s not going to happen today. I rub my dick, wishing this morning had gone down differently. It’s probably for the best. I have to get my head in the game. It’s time to go about making my wife an ex-wife instead of trying to get between her legs again.
I reach over and grab my cellphone and sift through my contacts until I find my attorney’s private number.
“Damn it, man, it’s 5:30 in the morning. This better be good.”
I smirk at the sound of annoyance in Marty’s voice. Asshole has probably been awake for hours. Although, I’m going to be honest, I had no idea it was so early. I was more interested in making my dick happy.
“I found my wife,” I tell him, not bothering to call him a liar or finding out how long he’s been awake.
“I figured that was it, since I never hear from you unless you want something from me.”
“You don’t complain when you cash my retainer check every month, asshole,” I remind him, putting him in his place. I don’t let people talk down to me, and I sure as hell refuse to let someone on my payroll do that shit.
“I’m getting ready to raise that bill. What do you need from me?” he asks, finally getting down to business.
“Can you fax me whatever Faith needs to sign to make this annulment happen?”
“All shit aside, Titan, man, are you sure this is what you want?” he asks and, without realizing it, my gaze travels to the closed bathroom door.
“Why would you even ask that shit?” I ask Marty, but I know. Marty doesn’t like the plan Cora and I have in play. Marty might try to act like a mercenary motherfucker, but he never quite pulls it off.
I’m starting to wonder if I can.
“Because at least you get along with this bitch, which is more than I can say for the future Mrs. Marsh. Maybe this happened for a reason,” he answers, being plain spoken—like he always is with me.
“It did and that reason was a starved dick, a hungry pussy and a fuckload of tequila.” I lay it out for him, but I feel a little guilty talking about Faith like that.
Which is crazy. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true… mostly.
“I’ll fax the annulment papers. Have Faith sign them and I’ll get them filed. You can be a free man by the end of the week.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Marty.”
“I wouldn’t thank me. Basically I’m just doing this so you can get married again and really fuck up your life. I’m doing you no favors,” he adds and I rub the back of my neck in frustration.
“Nice, man—real nice.”
“Just calling it like I see it. Give me the damn number.”
I get out of bed and go to the desk. It takes me a minute to find the binder with the hotel information, but I get it and then give him the number. We exchange a few more words and I hang up.
Walking back into the main room, I can’t stop myself from staring at the bathroom door. I try to get Marty’s words out of my head. This is all for the best. Faith and I had one night of drunken sex after a very big mistake.
That’s it.
19
Faith
“What are you doing?” Titan asks for the hundredth time.
We are at a Waffle House, and after breakfast I pulled out the papers Titan gave me and started going over them. That was about fifteen minutes ago and Titan keeps asking me what I’m d
oing—which means I haven’t read very much at all and he’s starting to annoy me.
“I’m trying to read—if you would quit interrupting me,” I grumble.
“What is there to read? You just sign the damn thing and this is done,” he growls. I frown up at him.
Maybe it’s silly, but his constant griping about these papers and wanting our marriage to end is really starting to hurt my feelings. I mean, come on, I have my faults, but geez Louise. I’m not that bad.
“I’m reading because it’s a legal document. My parents didn’t teach me a lot—mostly because my mom was crap and tied my dad in knots. My dad was always trying to undo those knots and did that until the day he died, so there wasn’t much room for him to teach us life’s lessons. Which means, Big Daddy, those lessons came harsh at the hands of fate—who is a fickle bitch at best. Still, one of those life lessons was you don’t sign any kind of contract unless you read it first. So, and I’m only repeating myself here because you’ve been an ass, I’m reading.”
“What’s to read?”
“I’m ignoring you, but the more you talk the longer it will take me to read,” I warn him. I hear him groan under his breath and want to giggle. I can admit it—at least to myself—it’s fun to annoy Titan. When I finish reading, I get this feeling of dread. It sits in the pit of my stomach. I pick up the pen and stare at the line where my signature is supposed to go.
I’m feeling a million things and it’s probably not fair to Titan, but the biggest one of those is feeling like a failure. I can hear Hope and Charity condemning me now, telling me how my life has just been one major screw-up after another. I can even see the looks on their faces. I gaze up at Titan. He’s a good man. I’m convinced of that. I’ve spent my time with bad and Titan is completely different. If I were ever going to get married, I’d want it to be to a man like him—a good man.
“I’m dying of old age here, Faith.”
A good man is an asshole.
“This says I agree the marriage was a mistake,” I tell him, frowning and trying to read his face. As a blackjack dealer, I got really good at reading people’s emotions and find their “tells.” Titan is pretty closed off, but right now I see disbelief on his face and more than a little bit of anger.
“Fuck yeah. You going to tell me it wasn’t?”
“Well, I mean, I don’t know. It could be, because Lord knows you’re not exactly sweet and tender.”
“You have got to be fucking me.”
I bite my lip at his choice of words and the images they evoke.
“Who’s to say though? Maybe the marriage wasn’t a mistake. We might make a great married couple.”
“You really are fucking with me right now,” he growls and I cross my hands at my chest.
“Why is it so hard to believe that being married to me wouldn’t be the end of the world?” I huff defensively.
“Because I’m engaged!” he growls and my body goes completely still. It feels like lead, solid and hard to move.
“You had sex with me when you were engaged?” I whisper, almost choking on the words. I thought Titan was a good man. I felt inside of me that he was. I liked him!
I am a fool.
My sisters are right; I just keep making mistake after mistake.
“I was drunk! I didn’t know what I was doing. Hell, you could have been a hooker off the street,” he growls.
And the blows just keep coming. Trouble is, this one cuts deep. I feel it slice through me like a hot knife. I swallow down the hurt and the damaged pride. I don’t have time to feel those, and I’d never let anyone see it anyway—especially Titan.
“Who’s your fiancée? Does she know about me?”
“I—”
“You know what, never mind. It’s none of my business.”
“Will you just sign—”
“You know what? It is my business. I bet she doesn’t know anything about me. I bet she’s just laughing and happily planning a wedding to a man who is a lying, cheating, cretin!”
“Cretin?”
“That’s what I said, buckaroo. And if the stupid fits wear it! I can’t believe you. You made me a scarlet woman and I didn’t even know! Your fiancée will hate me!”
“She won’t. But does it even matter? Not like you will ever meet her.”
“So that’s your game? What Mrs. Big Daddy don’t know won’t hurt her?”
“Will you stop getting upset over nothing?” he sighs. “You’re starting to attract attention.”
“I don’t care! You just told me you were engaged to get married to another woman and married me instead. How do you think that makes me feel, Titan?”
“Ask me if I care, Faith,” he dares me rather bitchily and further proving that, despite my first assessment, Titan is not a good guy. He’s a complete and utter asshole.
“Ask me if I’m going to give you an annulment, Titan?”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, husband, that I’m going to protest the annulment. I’m not giving it to you.”
“Why in the hell not?”
“I’m doing this for your fiancée!” I proclaim, standing up.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he barks and there are several gasps of shock around us. Good! I hope they throw him out for using coarse language. It’ll serve him right!
“I’m saying that if you’re married to me, you can’t break another woman’s heart. One who probably cares for you. So I’m not giving you an annulment!”
“You can’t keep me married to you, Faith. I can get a divorce on my own.”
“Then go ahead and file for a divorce! Have the papers sent to my Aunt Ida Sue in Texas. Hope can give you the address,” I yell, heading for the exit.
“Where in the fuck are you going?” he asks.
“I’m going back to my jeep in Buck-Stop and then I’m driving to Arkansas!”
“You don’t have a way there and I’m sure as hell not taking you,” he returns, his voice as loud and as angry as mine—but his sounds scarier.
“I didn’t ask you to, Big Daddy. I’m fine on my own!”
“I can drive you, sweetheart,” a giant bear of a man says from the corner. One look at him and I peg him as a trucker. He has a faded blue Ford baseball cap on, a flannel long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up, faded jeans and a white T-shirt—with what I hope are coffee stains. He’s got a long brown beard, and a mop of hair just as long.
“You will not,” Titan orders him.
The man stands up and he might not be quite to Titan’s height, but he’s big and he’s wide. He’s not all muscle like Titan, and that beer belly he’s sporting has not one sign of Titan’s perfect abs, I’m sure, but he’s not going to back down and he’s got one ace in the hole. There’s a state policeman at the booth beside him and he comes out, giving Titan a look that can’t be misinterpreted.
“You got this, David?” the trucker says and it is clear David is the state police when he comes to stand in front of Titan.
“I got it. In fact, I think I’ll give the little lady a ride myself,” the cop says and I smile—aiming that smile of victory directly at Titan.
“Faith, you leave like this and you’ll regret you ever met me.”
“Too late, Big Daddy. I already do!” I tell him and then I look at the state policeman. “Um… I need my stuff out of his car.” I smile, pointing at a very pissed-off Titan. Not that I care.
Titan Marsh is not my problem anymore. He can go hang out with all the other scummy, skeezy, lying cheaters.
And when his fiancée finds out about me, I hope she kicks him in the balls.
20
Titan
I keep replaying shit in my head. I have for two days. I still don’t know exactly what happened. Now, this is nothing new when it comes to Faith, but never have I been more confused than I am right now. It seemed so simple. She signs the annulment papers, I turn them in and we both get on with our lives. I forgot one thing.
I couldn’t go after her immediately, not since she conveniently had state police protection. It has taken me two days to catch up with her. I’m following her Jeep now down a back road somewhere close to the Oklahoma border. There’s no rhyme or reason to the roads that Faith keeps taking. Hell, I swear sometimes she manages to make a complete circle. She literally comes to a stop sign and turns right, goes to another one and turns left and ends up back at the original one. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen. At first, I thought it was because she caught me tailing her. The more it happened, the more I’m sure this has something to do with Faith’s own brand of crazy.
It’s almost dark before she stops for the night. I’ve been following her for at least fourteen hours, watching her from a distance and getting gas when she goes inside to eat or at a station. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve done damn good at it. I’m starting to think I should have been a P.I. instead of a football player. Luckily, her Jeep gets horrible gas mileage compared to my Caddy. She pulls into a small motel that is literally called Highway 69 Motel. The road we are on is not Highway 69, not even close. That should be a warning sign to the woman that she should keep driving. But it doesn’t surprise me that she goes in to register. I pull into the parking lot only after she goes inside. Then I park my car and get out. Every bone and joint I have pops as I finally stand. Too many years of football have made trips like this painful. I lean against her hood and wait.
It doesn’t take long before she comes outside singing—singing—and doesn’t look up. When she gets just a foot away from me I figure if I don’t speak up she’s going to run straight into me. How this girl survives on her own, I have no idea.
“Hello, wife.”
She lets out a startled scream, jumps in place slightly and then stares at me. She’s got sunglasses on that hide her eyes from me. I frown, wishing they were gone. There’s no reason for her to have them. It’s nearly dark outside.
Taking It Slow: Doing Bad Things Book 3 Page 6
