Indulge (21 page)

“That’s horrible.”

“Worth it to get
their crazy asses
outta here.”

“You really did break it off with them for me.”

I don’t know why she’s surprised. “I told you I would.”

“I didn’t know if I should believe you or not.”

“I did it after you left my room, even before I knew about Clark, because I so desperately wanted us back. I still do, Peach.”

“Please don’t say things like that.”

She turns away, but I’m not having it. “Look at me, Peach.”

She hesitates but does what I tell her. There are tears in her beautiful eyes.

“Peach, I’m in love with you. I don’t want you to marry Preston. I want you and Clark to stay with me. So, I will continue to tell you often how much I want and love you.”

T
en weeks is
a long time to watch the woman you love be with another man. The empty pillow beside me a reminder she isn’t here but next to him. I’ve sworn every night to let her go, but I wake loving her more than I did the day before.

Surely she’s been fucking him. Knowing that is far more hurtful than I could have possibly imagined.
I never cared this much when Erin fucked Heath.

I’m tired of the pain. I have a vile desire to lash out so she can hurt the way I do. I know it’s wrong. I’m not supposed to want that for my beloved. I should always want happiness for her. But I don’t if she can’t find it with me.

I’m a selfish bastard.

It’s my day with Clark, and Peach has an approaching deadline with her editor, so she’s working in my office. I know I shouldn’t disturb her but Clark’s down for a nap and we need to talk.

I tap on the door. She doesn’t hear me since she’s wearing earbuds, so I enter. She jolts when she sees me and then removes one of her headphones. “Sorry. Didn’t hear you.”

“Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine. Clark okay?”

“Yeah. He’s asleep. I was hoping we could talk while he’s down.” I hate doing this when I know she needs to be writing, but I’m on my own deadline.

“Sure.” She closes the top of her laptop. “What’s up?”

“The wedding is soon.” I die a little more each day as it approaches.

Wrinkled forehead. Narrowed eyes. I’ve seen that look before, and I’m guessing her wheels are spinning fast, trying to decide where I’m going with this. “Yes. It’s creeping up on us.”

“I can’t do it anymore.”

Those wrinkles deepen. “Can’t do what?”

“Hold out hope for us. It’s time to get realistic.”

She sighs. “Oh.”
That’s all I get?

“There are only so many times I can tell you I love you without hearing it back before you break me. I don’t know the exact number but whatever it is, I’m almost there. I have one more “I love you” left in me, and I’m going to use it today.”

“Beau . . .” she whispers, but says nothing else.

I go to her, pulling my office chair away from the desk. I drop to my knees in front of her. “I know you’re scared, but I’m offering you my heart and asking you to take a chance on me. I swear on my life, you won’t regret it. I will be the man you need me to be. Your friend. Your lover. Your husband.” That last word sucks the air right out of her.

I want to be married to this woman. Very married.

“I’m asking you to trust me with your heart. I will not let you down.”
This might break me, but I need her to know how serious I am.

Tears spill from her eyes and I use my thumbs to catch them. “Please, don’t cry. I never want to be the one to cause you tears.”

I lean forward, pressing my lips to hers. She opens her mouth, allowing my tongue inside to meet hers in an erotic dance.

This kiss is different. It tells me things she can’t or won’t say because she’s frightened of us.

I cradle her face with my hands. “Come to the bedroom with me.”

She looks so pained. “You know I can’t do that.”

I press my forehead to hers. “Please.”

“Beau . . . ”

“Let me make love to you.”

I look into her eyes and see her conflict. I know she wants us physically––she’s such a sensual woman––but I fear she may not accept us emotionally. “Let me make you come until you shatter into a million pieces.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When she looks back at me, she nods.

I hold her hand, leading her from my office to the bedroom. I fear the whole way there she’ll change her mind and back out.

I stop next to the bed and walk behind her. I snake my arms around her body and kiss the back and side of her neck. Goosebumps erupt over her skin beneath my lips.
This. This is what I want every day.

I haven’t touched her like this in almost three months. “It’s been torture having you so near, yet untouchable.”

“Touch me any, and every, way you want.” Her voice is nearly breathless.

I want to lift her dress and bend her over the side of the bed so I can pound into her, punishing her for what she’s put me through the last three months. But my yearning to make love to her overpowers my darkest desire.

I lift the hem of her dress and rub my hand up the back of her thigh. “I’ve missed these legs being wrapped around me.”

She reaches overhead and grasps the back of my neck as she leans against me.
I love how she does that.

She rubs her bottom against my crotch. If I wasn’t hard before, I am now.

I haven’t fucked since she was in my bed in New York. I think it’s the longest I’ve ever gone without sex. “God, I’ve missed you.”

I bunch the bottom of her dress in my hand and push it up until it’s over her head. I start at the center of her neck and kiss down to the back of her bra. I push the straps from her shoulders as I unfasten it.

She turns in my arms and grasps my shirt, pulling it off and tossing it to the floor. She flattens her palms against my chest and rubs my pecs, causing my nipples to harden. Dropping down, she sucks one into her mouth.

I lift my face to the ceiling and close my eyes, savoring the feel of her mouth on my skin.

She yanks open the button on my pants and pushes them and my boxer briefs to the floor.

The only clothing left is her panties, but not for long, when I push them from her hips and they fall to the floor.

We move onto the bed. I feather kisses down her chin and throat until my mouth finds one of her nipples. Something between a moan and the sound of my name escapes her mouth when I suck.

I take my time with both breasts before dragging my face and mouth down the center of her body to reach her hipbones. I kiss each of them and everything in between before dragging my nose over her groin. I inhale deeply. “Mmm, you smell so good.” Sweet with a hint of debauchery.

I’m kneeling between her legs and a thought occurs. I flatten my palm against her chest between her breasts and slowly glide it down, over her belly where our child once resided. I drag my fingers over the stretch marks on her lower stomach.

There isn’t a single part of her body not worth kissing.

She pushes my hand away. “Don’t. I hate them.”

She probably thinks I find the marks unattractive but it’s the opposite. These lines are proof that a part of me was once inside her. Nothing is sexier. “Your body carried our son and gave him life. I wish I could have watched you grow with him.”

She laces her fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry.”

I kiss her over the top of her pelvic bone before journeying south. “We’re done with regrets.”

I lick straight up her center. “Ahh!”

She squirms beneath my mouth before finding a steady rocking motion. “I love your mouth on me.”

Mmm, I love the way she tastes.

My fingers glide up her thighs and find her hands. She laces them with mine as she lifts her head to watch me. Our eyes meet only for a moment before she throws her head against the pillow and arches her back from the bed. She lifts her hips closer to my mouth and squeezes my hands tightly as her entire body stiffens. “Ahh, Beau!”

Her body trembles and then goes completely lax, panting as though trying to catch her breath. “My God, you’re magnificent at that.”

I scale her body, kissing my way up until I hover above her.

“I want you inside me.”

“No more than I want to be inside you.”

I nestle between her legs and stare at her eyes. Everything in this moment feels different, as though we’re the only two people in this world.

I press my erection against her, and our eyes share a silent conversation our mouths don’t dare interrupt. She wants to be closer, the same as me. Skin on skin, nothing between us.

I swallow hard when I barely push myself into her slick opening, giving her time to object. It’s my way of asking, without words, before entering her body completely. I’m giving her an out if this isn’t what she wants.

She grants me permission by lifting her hips against me. I glide into her slickness and squeeze my eyes shut as I hiss, “Fuck, Peach. You feel incredible. So much better than I dreamed.”

She tightens her muscles around me as I move in and out with methodical slowness. I savor the full sensation of being inside her unsheathed. It’s a damn shame I have no memory of doing this the first time, but I will never forget this moment.

I watch her beautiful face as I move over her. I’m certain I’ve never felt closer to anyone in my life. Ever.

I make love to her, the way two people in love should. Slow. Deep. Significant. The affection I have for her is overwhelming. I love this woman with all my heart. She owns me, body and soul.

We’re heart to heart, and I fade into her until I don’t know where I end and she begins.

“I’m getting close.” I feel I should warn her in case she wants to ask me to pull out. She answers by locking her legs around my waist. I couldn’t free myself from her tight hold if I tried. It’s fine by me. I want to mark her, to make her mine.

Surely this means she is mine.

I bury my face against her neck and push deeply within her body, holding steady when I spasm, filling her with a part of myself. She locks her arms around me and squeezes her legs tighter. It’s in this moment I know he’s her past. I’m her present. Her future.

“I love you, Anna James,” I whisper against her ear as I pour every part of myself into her.

This is it. She knows, after this time, I have no unrequited “I love you” left in me.

I lift my face from her neck and look at her eyes.

Nothing.

She doesn’t utter a word, but her silence is loud and clear. This is her telling me she doesn’t love me. Doesn’t want me.

And this time, I believe her.

She’s choosing him.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I pull out of her and push up to sit on the side of the bed, my back turned to her. “That was the last time you’ll get to tell me no. I’ll never again ask you to love me.” No more begging. No more pleading.

I stand and pull on my pants.

“Beau . . .”

“No.” I don’t want excuses or explanations. And I can’t bear hearing how she doesn’t trust me, or how she loathes the life I’ve lived.

I despise the man I once was. His choices are robbing me of the thing I want most in life.

I say nothing when I leave the room. Not even when she calls out to me to come back so we can talk.

I can smell her all over me. She’s on
and
under my skin. But, fuck. Everyone has his or her breaking point, and I’ve met mine.

I’m stupidly in love with a memory, an echo of days forever gone.

“I’m done.”

I won’t lose myself trying to hold on to someone who doesn’t care about losing me.

Ours hasn’t been a love story, as I thought. It’s a fucking tragedy.

I
love
Beau so much it hurts. I wanted to say those words to him so badly. But I couldn’t.

Against my will I’ve fallen into a love I think I’ll never be able to recover from.

I was very aware of what Beau wanted from me when I agreed to go into his bedroom. And it was far more than sex. I knew, yet I went anyway, knowing all along I wouldn’t be able to say those three words he wanted so desperately to hear from me.

I’m so fucking selfish. I let him make love to me because I wanted one more, one last time with him.

Beau Emerson is a wild card. And the things I desire from him will destroy me in the end. He has the ultimate power to ruin me. That’s a precarious scenario, one I won’t leave to chance. That’s why I’m choosing the assured route.

Preston Mitchell is safe.

Shit. Beau said he wanted to be my husband. My fucking husband. It’s been five days since he professed that to me. I still can’t begin to wrap my head around it.

I love you, Anna James.
Those words bind me to him tighter than any chain.

Together, Beau and I are the equivalent of a flame meeting gasoline. We burn so hot it’s impossible to be extinguished. But with a scorching fire, someone always gets burned. I can’t let it be me.

I haven’t seen Beau since we made love, but he’s all I’ve thought about since. Who am I shittin’? He’s all I’ve thought about since leaving Jamaica. There’s never a time when he’s out of my head.

Preston has to know something is going on with me. I haven’t let him touch me since I was with Beau in New York. That’s a long time, even for us.

I use work and deadlines as excuses, always saying I’m too busy or I’m brainstorming about a new story. He doesn’t complain, but any man would have to question a fiancée uninterested in sex.

Clarification: I’m plenty interested in having sex, and lots of it, but not with him since Beau came back into my life.

Beau’s visitation with Clark has cycled around so it’s his day with him. I must admit I typically look forward to their time together since I get to tag along. But today is different. I have to face Beau for the first time since I hurt him. I don’t look forward to that.

I let myself into Beau’s house as I’ve been doing for the last couple of months. “We’re here,” I call out.

“In here.”

I put Clark’s bag on the couch as I pass by on my way to the kitchen. “Want a sandwich?”

Beau has a production line of bread, cheese, and deli meats. “No. I ate before I came.”

He wipes his hands on a towel and reaches for Clark. “Hey, buddy. I missed you this week. Come ’ere and see your daddy.”

Watching Beau grow as a father to our son is beautiful. And sexy as hell.

He kisses the side of Clark’s face. “Seems like he grows an inch from one visit to the next.”

There are four sandwiches on the counter. Beau eats like a horse, but even he can’t put away that much food. “Hungry much?”

“It’s a picnic, of sorts. There are some local musicians playing at Piedmont park today. I thought we might go over and hang out.”

“That sounds like fun.” I love live music.

“I thought it would be nice for you to get some peace and quiet so you could work uninterrupted.”

Oh. I’m not invited. “Sure. I have a deadline, so that would be great.” Lie.

I wasn’t planning to work today. I guess it’s a good thing I brought my laptop.

“Just you and Clark?”

“No. My friend Daphne is coming with us.”

Daphne?
The name is familiar, like maybe I met her at one of the family functions, but I can’t place who she is. “The name rings a bell, but I can’t put a face with it.”

“Tall redhead. I think you said her voice reminded you of nails grating down a chalkboard.” Ugh.

“Of course. No way I could forget her.” Although, I’ll keep trying.

She’s the one who kissed Beau at the football game. He didn’t seem receptive, but maybe there was more to it than I thought. I’m surprised by the flip my stomach does when I consider that prospect.

It hasn’t even been a week since he said he loved me, pleaded for me to love him back, and now he’s going out with her. Right in front of me.

This is why I choose safe.

I’m getting left behind while Beau takes our son on a picnic with another woman. I didn’t see this one coming.

He’s acting as though five days ago never happened.

He told me he was done. Now . . . I think I believe him.

I need a minute to absorb this. “Sorry. I drank a ton of water on the way over. I’ll be right back.”

I speed walk toward the bathroom. It’s a race against the tears collecting in my eyes.
Don’t let him see you cry, Anna James.

I use a folded tissue to absorb the tears from the corners of my eyes as I recall the things he said to me.

I’m offering you my heart and asking you to take a chance on me.

I will be the man you need me to be. Your friend. Your lover. Your husband.

I’m asking you to trust me with your heart. I will not let you down.

I love you, Anna James.

I don’t understand how he can say those things, mean them, and then go out on a date several days later. I can’t sort that one out.

I return to the kitchen when I’m finished having my meltdown. “Everything okay?”

Shit. Do I look like I’ve been crying? I need to get away from him ASAP.
“Of course. I’ll be in your office if you need you.”

I’m staring at my laptop screen when the doorbell rings. I cringe. I don’t want to see or hear that big mouth but I’m forced to do both when Beau brings Daphne back for an introduction. “This is my son’s mother, Anna James Bennett, soon-to-be Mitchell.”

Soon-to-be Mitchell.
Hearing Beau say it so nonchalantly hurts. It’s as though he doesn’t care at all.

“Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials.” I don’t even have it in me to thank her.

She turns her attention on my son. “Oh! My! God! He’s the cutest little thing ever!”

Poor Clark is looking at her with a frown threatening to turn it into a cry at any moment.
I know the feeling.

“Thank you. We think he’s pretty adorable.”

She leans into Beau and grins at me. “Just like his dad.”

I’m instantly pissed off. That was intended to taunt me.

Beau is grinning. I hope it’s because he’s proud to have his son compared to him and not because his date is trying to push my buttons.

I don’t want to see them another minute. “You should probably get going. Piedmont has terrible parking.”

I get up to kiss my boy goodbye. “Mommy will see you in a little while.”

I’m sitting in Beau’s office trying to work but the words won’t come. I’ve literally worked on the same paragraph, with a few minor changes, for fifteen minutes. At this stage of the game, I’ve learned that when it’s not popping, it’s time to walk away for a little while.

I close my laptop and think about how I would kill for a glass of Wittmann Westhofener Morstein Riesling as big as my head. That might help the words flow.

My first book was based on my experience with Beau at Indulge, told through Emma Jane’s eyes. The second was Ben’s point of view. Now, I’ve been asked to write their HEA. And I’m fucking uninspired. How do I write about something I’ve not experienced?

This book is supposed to be a modern-day fairy tale filled with breathless moments. And sex. Lots of it. And babies.

I’m just not feelin’ it.

Feeling a little snoopy, I open Beau’s desk drawer. Nothing interesting there so I move down to the next one.
Hmm. What is this?

I flip the picture frame over. “Ah, Beau.” It’s a framed photograph of us with the dolphins.
I haven’t seen this picture since I stowed my copy away in the box never to be opened again.

I find a stack of six pictures beneath it, all of us. Four in Jamaica. One at my book signing in New York, the day he found me. The last of him and Clark in the hotel lobby the morning they met. All worn with frayed corners.

Fuck.

I go to Beau’s bedroom and sit on the edge of his bed. I grab his pillow and bring it to my nose. I inhale deeply. God, it smells so good, just like him. I fall back and squeeze it to my chest.

My life sucks.

I thought the heartbreak I felt when I fled Jamaica was the worst but my world split down the middle when I saw him with those two fuck-tarts.

I hurt so badly afterward.
Is that how Beau has been feeling these last few months seeing me with Preston?

I had a year to get my shit together. And I did. I found a friend and companion I trust and feel secure with. But then Beau inserts himself into my life and all that goes to shit. He has been making me question everything for months.

Now, I see him with someone else and the problem is clear. I may have fucked up when I didn’t tell him those three words he wanted to hear.

I have to talk to Preston.

P
reston is at his place
, feet propped on the cocktail table with papers spread all around him. He looks up and peers at me over his reading glasses. “Hey, you. Whatcha doing here?”

“Beau took Clark to the park. Wasn’t much need for me to stay at his place since they weren’t there.” I leave off the part about Daphne. I hate admitting, even to my own fiancé, that Beau is with another woman.

“Grading papers, eh?”

“Yeah. I have to return these Monday.”

Preston never uses his teaching assistant. He doesn’t have it in him to relinquish the control. God, he can be uptight.

“So, you’ll have to go back to
his
house?” Preston refuses to say Beau’s name.

“Yeah, but not for a while. There are some local bands playing at the park. I figure they’ll be gone a few hours.” Clark will let them know when it’s time to come back.

Preston gathers the papers surrounding him and transfers them to the cocktail table. “We’re alone. That’s a rare occurrence these days.”

I know what that means. He wants to have sex. “I need to talk to you.”

He removes his glasses and tosses them on top of his papers. He blinks several times. “Sounds serious.”

“It is, I’m afraid.”

He pats the cushion next to him. “Come sit next to me.”

I do as he asks. When I say nothing, he reaches for my hand, gently squeezing it. “You’ve been so distant, Anna.”

“I know.” Things have been so different between us since Beau came back into my life.

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on and where your head is.”

The tears come before the words. “I can’t marry you.”

“Because of
him
.” His voice breaks on the last word.

“Yes,” I whisper.

Preston leans away from me. He inhales deeply before releasing the breath slowly. “Have you slept with him?”

I want to lie so badly because I’m ashamed of what I’ve done. But I have to tell him the truth; he deserves that much. “Yes.”

“How many times?”

“Twice.”

He says nothing as he releases my hand.

“I’m so sorry, Preston. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I mean that.

“Do you love him or was it just sex?”

I feel so guilty. “I love him.”

He nods. “Of course, you do. You always have, and I knew that, but I thought we were in the clear because he wasn’t around.”

I thought the same. “You know I never intended for him to be in my life again.”

Preston leaves the couch and stands with his hands on his hips staring out the window, his back to me. “Have you told him that you love him?”

“No.” But I’ve wanted to so badly. I’ve held back, believing if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be such a horrible person. Such an unfaithful fiancée. I thought I deserved to suffer in silence for being in love with another man. But the truth is I couldn’t help it. My head didn’t choose to love Beau. My heart did. I couldn’t stop if I tried. And I did try. But it was useless.

Preston is a friend. He’s safe. I could marry him and probably never know a day of hurt for the rest of my life. But I’d also never know what it is to have legs impatient for him to be between. To be unraveled down to my last thread of decency. To have the breath knocked out of me because I’ve fallen in love so hard.

I can’t help myself.

I want mad passionate love, even if it’s harder and hurts more. Even if it comes at a price.

“Has he told you he loves you?”

“Yes.” Many times.

“I believe he does.” He stares out the window for a long time.

“You’re breaking my heart, Anna.” Breaking his heart is breaking mine.

“I’m so sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. There are no words to make this better.

“You’re aware of the things he likes, yet you choose him anyway, knowing in the end, he will destroy you. Hell, Anna. He went right back to that lifestyle after you. I don’t understand why you’d choose to inflict that kind of pain upon yourself.”

I’m glad he went back into a poly relationship after me. I don’t think I could have handled him being in a one-on-one relationship if it wasn’t with me. I want him to save that part of himself for us.

“Beau and I were separated because of lies he had no knowledge of. He was ready to commit to me then, but things got in the way. I believe him when he says he’ll give up that lifestyle. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t put my heart or Clark’s in his hands.”

I’m still talking to his back. But maybe that enables me to say the words he needs to hear.

“I want you to know I wouldn’t have survived and thrived during the last year had it not been for your friendship. I hate how much this is hurting you, but I can’t go into a marriage without giving it 100%. That is what you deserve.”

Preston finally leaves the window and comes back to me, taking my hand. “I can’t change your mind, can I?”

I shake my head. “No.”

He gently lifts my chin with his fingers so I’m looking at him. “I love you, Anna, and I want you to be happy, even if it’s with him.”

Dear, sweet man.

I have loved Preston, but not as he deserves. He has a heart of gold. How he can want what’s best for me at this moment is beyond comprehension.