Authors: Cheryl Douglas
He slammed the door and locked it behind them. “Now tell me what the hell I did to deserve that?” He slid his hand over his cheek.
His lips were still stained with lipstick, and the sight of it made something inside her snap. She came at him, fists clenched, beating him against the chest. She sobbed angry, frustrated, mortified tears. “I hate you. I hate you for what you did to me, to us. I hate you for sleeping with all those other women. I hate you for pushing me away, letting me leave.”
“Oh, baby,” he whispered, seizing her wrists and holding them against his chest. “Don’t you know those women meant nothing to me? It’s you, it’s always been you.”
She struggled to break free. “I don’t care what you say anymore. I don’t believe you. I don’t want to hear about all of the women you’ve slept with since I left.” She saw the wedding ring he still wore and the rage resurfaced with a vengeance. “You screwed all those women while you were wearing my wedding ring? You’re one sick bastard.”
He pinned her hands behind her back, pressing her breasts into his chest. “I wear this ring because I don’t want to forget what it was like between us.”
“I don’t want to hear this. I just want to go home to my fiancé and forget I ever met you.”
He stepped forward, pinning her against the desk. “You want to go home?” He dipped his head and nipped her neck.
She gasped, struggling against him. “Stop it.”
His tongue glided up her neck, slowly, thoroughly, setting her on fire. He knew her hot spots, knew just where to apply enough pressure to command her consent. “You want to go home to that cold, empty bed?” he murmured, drawing her earlobe into his mouth. “Hmm,” he groaned, low in his throat, sending vibrations along her sensitive flesh. “You wanna live the rest of your life pleasuring yourself while you’re fantasizing about this?” He ground his rock hard erection into her abdomen. “Or do you want the real thing?”
She sobbed, torn between her conscience and the throbbing ache between her legs. He boosted her up on the desk, moving between her open legs.
He cupped her face between his hands and stared at her. “You still love me,” he whispered.
She shook her head, trying to deny his claim.
“Yes, you do,” he said, nibbling her bottom lip. “That’s why it makes you so crazy, thinking about me with other women.”
“No,” she cried. “I don’t care.”
“Liar,” he whispered. He slid the thin straps off her shoulders and let her dress fall to her waist, exposing her bare breasts. He dipped his head, drawing first one nipple, then the other, into his mouth. “Tell me you care.” He swirled his tongue around her nipple, moistening it and then blowing on it before sucking it into his mouth again.
She cried out, wriggling against him, trying to guide more of her nipple into his hot, wet mouth. He pulled back, refusing to give her more of what she needed. “I need to hear you say it, baby.”
“Fine. I can’t stand the thought of you making love to anyone else.” She held her breath and waited to feel his mouth on her again. “Please, don’t stop.” She instinctively closed her legs around him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She fought the wave of sensation, trying to deny the tremor building, the juices flowing.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “Just let go, baby. I always could make you come this way. Let’s see if I still can.”
She planted her hands on the desk behind her for support, inviting him, begging him to feast on her.
He dropped to his knees, cupping her breasts in his hands. He devoured them, kissing, licking, sucking, kneading until she finally came apart in his arms.
She rode the wave of her orgasm, desperate to prolong the pleasure.
He stood up and leaned over her, locking their hands behind her back. “Come home with me tonight, baby. I need to make love to you.”
She shook her head furiously. “I can’t. Eric.” She sobbed, the guilt wracking her.
“I don’t even want to hear his name. You’re mine,” he growled. “You’ve always been mine.”
She let her head fall against his chest. “I’m engaged, Trey. We’re getting married whether you like it or not.”
“Not gonna happen.” He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Do you hear me? You’ll marry him over my dead body.”
The tears flowed down her cheeks. She was so confused, so torn. She loved Trey, but she didn’t trust him. She cared for Eric. She trusted him, but she didn’t love him, not the way she loved Trey.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispered, tracing her tears with his fingertips. “I know you don’t want to hurt him, but...”
She knew what she had to do. This relationship had already cost them too much grief; she couldn’t risk that again. “I’m not leaving Eric. I’m going home to plan my wedding.”
Trey felt like someone had punched him in the gut. “What did you say?”
“I said I’m getting married.” She grabbed a calendar off the desk. She quickly scanned the dates.
“April 14, we’re getting married April 14 in Maui.”
April 14 was the day they met. Maui had been their honeymoon destination. She was trying to prove a point, trying to erase the past with the promise of a better future.
He grabbed the calendar and tossed it into the wastebasket. “Are you crazy? You actually think I’m going to let you marry him?”
She raised her chin defiantly. “You can’t stop me. I’ve already made up my mind. You’re just going to have to find a way to deal with it.”
Everything was slipping away. He’d come so close to getting her back, so close to having her back in his bed, his life. “Please don’t do this, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I’m sorry if I pushed too hard. We can take it slow...”
She righted her dress and ran her hands through her hair. “No. It’s too late for that. I know what I need to do. Eric was right. I can’t work with you, Trey. We have too much history. I’m sorry.”
He hated feeling so powerless. He wanted to tie her to the desk and make love to her until she was begging him to take her home. “So you’re just going to pretend this never happened?”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’ll tell Eric the truth. Hopefully he can forgive me.”
“How the hell can he blame you for looking elsewhere? He can’t give you what you need.” Trey was trying to rein in his temper, but when he thought about her spending the rest of her life with another man, it ate him up inside.
“He does give me what I need, in ways you never could.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“He loves me. He’s there for me, and he listens.”
He couldn’t argue with her reasoning. There were too many nights, especially toward the end of their marriage, when he wasn’t there for her when she needed him.
He reached out to brush the hair off her shoulders. “I love you, baby. God, I love you so much. Please, don’t do this.”
She wiped away the trail of tears and pulled a compact out of her bag, checking her reflection in the mirror. “I’d like to stay for a few minutes, wish your dad a Happy Birthday, say hello to everyone. If that’s okay with you.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah, sure. I’ll take you back to the hotel whenever you’re ready.” Maybe once she had a chance to cool off, he could convince her to stay.
“No. I want you to stay; spend some time with your family. I’ll take a taxi to the hotel.” She looked him in the eye. “I meant what I said. I’m leaving tonight.”
He grabbed her hand, but she withdrew. “Is there anything I can say, anything I can do, to change your mind?”
She shook her head, looking down at the ground. “No, I’m sorry. Good luck with the album, Trey.”
Suddenly the career he had been fighting so hard to save seemed meaningless.
Marisa rushed up to them as they crossed over the threshold of the ballroom. “There you are. I thought you’d left.” She hugged Sierra before turning to her brother. “Is everything okay?”
Sierra tried to keep her gaze from wavering, searching the expansive ballroom for the woman who would undoubtedly be sharing Trey’s bed tonight. “Everything’s fine. Unfortunately, something’s come up. I have to leave tonight.”
Trey glared at her, his blue eyes darkening. “Why don’t you tell her the truth, sweetheart? You’re running away again.”
Marisa grasped Sierra’s forearm. “No! I thought you two were going to be working together on this album. When we talked on the phone, you said...”
“Things have changed, Marisa.” She forced a smile. “It’s for the best, really. I have a benefit coming up and a wedding to plan.”
Marisa looked from her friend to her brother. “But I thought you two were...”
“So did I, but I guess we thought wrong. If you ladies will excuse me, I think I need a drink.”
Sierra and Marisa watched him walk to the bar. Within minutes, a crowd of people surrounded him, Megan included.
“She makes me sick,” Marisa said, glaring at the backside of the woman in question.
“You know her?” Sierra asked, tearing her gaze away from the small group.
“I’ve met her a few times.” She shrugged her shoulders. “She’s just like all the rest, fake from the inside out.”
Sierra sighed, wishing it didn’t matter, wishing it didn’t hurt so much to see him with another woman. “Whatever makes him happy, I guess.”
Marisa grabbed her hand. “But that doesn’t make him happy. You make him happy, Sierra.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Why can’t you two find your way back to each other?”
Sierra struggled to find the words to explain to her friend. “I wish it were that easy. I love your brother. I probably always will. But...”
Marisa squeezed her hand. “No, don’t make excuses. You love him. That’s all that matters.”
Sierra shook her head. “I wish it were that simple.” She nodded her head toward the bar where Luc was running interference for Trey. “You’ve been in love with Luc since you were a teenager, but that doesn’t mean he’s good for you, honey.”
She sighed, looking despondent. “I guess you’re right.” She hugged her friend. “I wish you didn’t have to go. I thought we were going to be able to spend some time together over the next few weeks.”
“I know. Listen, I’ve got a benefit coming up next month. Why don’t you come? You could bring Josh. It’ll be fun.”
Marisa smiled. “Okay, I’ll ask him.” Her eyes wandered to her brother. “I’m so worried about him.” She watched him tip a crystal glass to his lips. “I don’t know how we’re going to get through to him.”
“You just have to keep trying. Don’t give up on him; he needs you.”
Trey watched his parents greet Sierra. They lit up when they saw her, especially his father.
Even from a distance, he could see that Sierra was fighting back tears. He didn’t understand why she was making this harder than it had to be. She still loved him, loved his family as though they were her own. She belonged in Nashville with him.
He excused himself from the group, begging off when Megan offered to join him. He crossed the dance floor, anxious to find out whether his family had made inroads with Sierra. He watched her watching him. She was engaged in conversation with his mother, but her eyes never left him.
He extended his hand to his father, who pulled him into an embrace, slapping him on the back. He grinned at the old man, marveling at how good he looked. “Happy birthday, Dad.”
“Thanks, son, glad you could make it. And you couldn’t have brought a prettier date.” He slipped his arm around Sierra’s waist. “This little lady is like a fine wine, just gets better with age.”
Trey regarded her carefully, waiting for her to correct his father’s assumption about her status as his date. Instead, she reached up and kissed his father’s cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”
Trey’s gut clenched. She had always called his parents Mom and Dad when they were married. He couldn’t believe she still did. Apparently, Val had been right, his parents still thought of Sierra as a daughter, in spite of the divorce.
His mother put her arm around his waist. “We were just asking Sierra if we could impose upon the two of you to sing a few songs for us, honey.”
He looked at Sierra, waiting for her to make an excuse so she could leave the party early and avoid any more intimate encounters with him. “Really? What did she say?”