Spin It Again (2 page)

He was crazy. A man gone mad.

He’d been fired from his high-stakes, high-paying job on Wall Street after he’d attacked his boss when he’d dared tease him about his broken engagement. His comment had not been the least bit frickin’ funny, although apparently his boss had thought so. David had brusquely shoved him up against a wall, wanted to see if he thought that was funny, which he obviously hadn’t.

When he’d been fired, David had remarkably felt—nothing.

Nothing.

His job meant nothing to him anymore. His whole life meant nothing. And it was no one’s fault but his.

And maybe that damned spin devil’s.

And Evie’s. For not forgetting…not forgiving.

David curled his fingers around the ring that hung from his neck. He yanked on the chain, tearing the weak gold links open, and fisted his hand around it.

Gathering his courage, he spread his palm open to reveal the diamond solitaire ring. For a few precious months, it had been Evie’s ring.

It was no one’s ring now.

The diamond glinted mockingly at him and David gritted his teeth, the sight of it bringing fresh, searing pain anew. This time not to his ribs, nor to the cut at the side of his lips, but to his heart. His very soul.

He’d replayed that day a million times in his head already. Wondering if he’d said something differently, done something differently, she would have forgiven him.

How fucking fragile their love had turned out to be.

He’d once thought they were invincible. He’d thought that, with Evie beside him, he could take on the world.

One mistake. That’s all it took. One fucking mistake and he’d lost everything.

It had been a windy day, the day he’d returned to New York from a weekend trip to Florida, where he’d met with his college buddies. He’d been too caught up with work during the last couple years to pay any attention to what was going on with their lives, and it had seemed like a fun idea to see them again. Sebastian, always the rebel. Jason, the best pal to get drunk with. Luella, with her loud voice and even louder opinions.

Cleo, about the sweetest person at their college, and Haley, always fun and easygoing.

It had been the biggest mistake of his worthless, piece-of-shit life.

That, and having been way drunk by the time they’d indulged in a game called

“spin devil” that Luella had suggested. They’d spun a plush red devil as if it were a bottle, and dared and taunted each other mercilessly. As the night progressed, the group got drunker and the dares got riskier. During his final dare, Sebastian couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get Cleo naked, and pretty soon all his friends followed.

Caught up in the moment, David ended up with his mouth buried in Luella’s cunt while Haley sucked him off. Both women were his friends, and he’d never intended to fuck them, but things got wild. Crazy. As if the satiny little devil had robbed them completely of their senses.

David regretted every fucking minute of it.

The day he got back to New York he’d taken a cab straight home, where he and Evie had been living together for several months after he’d left his own apartment in the Upper West Side. The guilt on his shoulders weighed heavily and he couldn’t stand the feeling of the burning black poison running through his veins, product of the sheer hate brewing inside him. He had to tell her, tell her now. Evie knew he loved her. She knew he loved her more than anything in the world. She would know it hadn’t meant anything to him, nothing but a good time. She’d understand it had been nothing but a foolish, reckless moment. He had to tell her, and if she loved him, she had to forgive him.

When she opened the door, David felt like he’d been punched in the gut, the air wheezing out of his lungs with roaring speed. She looked so beautiful, her face glowing with excitement, her heart shining in her eyes as she gazed up at him, at the man she was engaged to marry, as if he were her hero.

Some fucking hero he’d turned out to be.

“Baby, you’re home!” she said happily, flinging herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms encircled her waist and he held her to him, held her closely.

“Evie.”

It was all he could say. That word meant everything to him. It meant I love you, I missed you, I want you, I need you…and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

Inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo, David closed his eyes and tightened his hold on her. She felt so small against him, so delicate. God help him, no matter what happened, he would never let go of her. He was crazy about her.

“Honey…you’re squishing me. I can’t breathe.” Her voice was muffled by his chest as she struggled to free herself.

He pulled back and looked at her, his eyes insatiable as they roamed over her face.

She was the most beautiful thing in the world to him. Her blue eyes danced with excitement, her small pouted lips forming a wide, sincere smile. Her skin was flawless, white and pure, sharply contrasting with the inky blackness of her hair, worn loose past her shoulders like a mass of heavy black silk. A light shade of pink tinted her cheeks, giving her skin a soft glow. She had the face of a doll, her features delicate and feminine, soft and rounded. To him, no Renoir, Botticelli or any other master ever created anything that could begin to compare to Evie’s classic beauty. She was worthy of placing on an altar with candles all around her.

“I need to tell you something.” He was barely able to speak when he took a step forward and closed the door behind him. His heart pounded harsh and loud against his rib cage. The way he felt, he could have carried the whole city on his shoulders and the load would have been lighter.

Her smile vanished completely at his words, and there was concern in her eyes as she cupped his face with one fragile little hand. “Did something happen?” It was painful, to feel her skin against his, so soft and warm. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his jaw against it, savoring the feel of her touch, the gentleness of it. “You feel so good. I missed you so much,” he said hoarsely.

“David.” She sounded alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

He opened his eyes and looked right into her breathtaking blue gaze. By the time he’d gathered enough courage to speak his stomach was already tied into a thick, tight knot.

“I had sex this weekend.”

It was like watching a murder, like being witness to a war.

He saw the way the beautiful vivid light in her eyes completely, totally vanished.

He saw the way her skin paled from rosy to ashen. He saw the way her features—

always beautiful, always perfect—distorted with pain.

She retracted her hand from his face, not wanting to touch him now, but David felt frantic, grabbing her hand midway and pressing it back to his cheek.

“It didn’t mean anything, Evie. I love you,” he quickly said, squeezing the hand he held forcibly to his cheek. “Only you. Always.” She shook her head wildly, looking hurt and pained and confused. “No, no, no—

don’t say this!” She yanked her hand free from his and took a step backward, still shaking her head.

He stretched his arms out to her. “We were all drunk, playing games…and one thing led to another. I never meant for it to happen, but then Cleo and Bas were going at it and Haley dropped my pants—”

“Shut up! Just shut up! I don’t want to hear it!” She clamped her palms over her ears, all the while shaking her head, her eyes shimmering with tears as she stared at him in disbelief. Her lips trembled and David suddenly felt his own eyes flood with tears.

What kind of a motherfucker was he to do this to her? What kind of a freakin’

pathetic asshole would do this to the woman he loved?

“Evie, I love you!” he shouted in desperation. He reached for her and hauled her to his body, crushing her to him.

Stiff and unyielding, she pushed herself away with surprising force, immediately turning her back to him. “Don’t touch me,” she whimpered.

The sound of her breathing was louder and harsher than those itty-bitty words. But those words, no matter how softly spoken…oh, how they hurt. How they tore through his chest. They coiled around his heart like a snake, crushing it.

Ignoring the clenching pain that tore through his insides, he cupped her shoulders from behind. She cringed at his touch, visibly sickened by him.

“Please forgive me,” he whispered in her ear, his hold on her shoulders tightening while he repeated those words like a chant. “Please, please forgive me.” And then he went crazy, because he knew he had to have her. He had to sink himself inside her, had to know she was still his, had to know if she still loved him, if she would forgive him this. This betrayal.

Frantically he nuzzled her earlobe, dipping his tongue into her ear as he slid his hands past her shoulders. He cupped her breasts and pressed her body back against his.

“I want you. God, I need you,” he whispered hotly. Every inch of his body shook with fear, with longing and desire.

She was rigid against him, and her lack of response scared him. It made him want to pour his soul out to her, made him want to find a way to make her melt, make her forgive him, make her his. Trailing a path of hot, urgent kisses down her neck, he squeezed one breast while he lowered a hand to cup her sex over her jeans.

“It wasn’t like with you,” he said desperately. “Nothing compares to you, Evie.

Please, baby, please don’t let this break us.” The sudden sound of her sobs wrecked him completely. They tore from somewhere deep, so very deep inside her—slicing him like a thousand knives driving into his flesh at once. Along with the clenching in his throat he felt his own tears then, spilling without notice, skidding slowly down his cheek and onto her shoulder. For the first time, he wondered how they would ever be able to make this thing, this pain, this cursed mistake go away.

“How could you?” she whispered shakily, not even turning to face him.

“Please forgive me, Evie.” He’d never uttered those words with so much passion, so much meaning, ever. His eyes stung as he fought to hold his tears back but just looking at her, looking at what he was doing to her, was enough to make him want to kill himself.

Feeling desperate, he whirled her around and kissed her, kissed her rough and hard, sinking his tongue into her mouth. She didn’t pull away but she was frighteningly unresponsive, not kissing him like she used to, all eagerness and playfulness and love.

She was still sobbing even as his tongue slowly stroked the soft, pliant cavern of her mouth. Tears continued to slide down his cheeks as well, but that wouldn’t stop him from kissing her. He pressed his lips to hers harder, trying to deepen the kiss. He knew that just one night, one night of loving Evie, and everything would be all right, everything would be like it used to be.

It just wasn’t going to happen.

She pulled away from him then, slowly, not angrily like he’d expected, but so damned hurt. “Here. I don’t want this,” she said, placing something in his palm, his fingers reflexively closing on it. She kept her face lowered, as if she couldn’t stand looking at him, and her voice trembled when she spoke. “I’ll let the judge know.” David glanced down at his hand, slowly uncurling his fingers so he could stare down at the object—her ring. The one he’d given her three months ago tied to the stem of a single red rose. At the mere sight of it, he knew—this was what it felt like to fall into the deepest, darkest pits of hell.

Even now, one year later, David felt that familiar knot in his throat, that clenching in his gut and the excruciating pain in his heart.

Hell.

He’d been living there for a whole year, a fucking resident, maybe almost president by now. He’d called her a million times, sent her trucks of flowers, faxes, emails. He’d tried cajoling, begging, explaining. His calls, emails and intentions went unanswered, and his flowers were unfailingly returned.

The thought that Evie might never forgive him hadn’t occurred to him until he got a call from her eldest brother, Gregory, a man whom David had done business with and had always admired and respected.

“Haven’t you’ve hurt my sister enough, David?” he’d demanded. “She’s trying to get on with her life, and if you have the slightest amount of decency you should lay off, for God’s sake. Stop following her, stop calling and just leave her the hell alone. She doesn’ t want to see you.”

“I love her, Gregory!” David had shouted, but Gregory had already hung up.

A half-hour later, David had found himself locked in the stinking bathroom stall of a nearby establishment, screwing the brains out of a curvy waitress in a striped uniform. She’d smiled at him three times while he’d sat at the restaurant-bar, so he figured she was practically begging for it. He followed her to the restroom, covered her mouth with his and pumped inside her so hard and fast that all the woman could do was hold on tight.

He’d ripped the top of her uniform open and when her tits spilled out, sucked and bit on them fiercely. She clutched his hair and the one time she spoke called him “pretty boy”. He didn’t care. He’d actually called her something worse plenty of times.

When they were finished, she’d claimed to be a little “bewildered” but still offered her phone number, acting all charming and giggly, despite his deadly frown. Before she tumbled all over herself to get a pen, he simply lifted a hand to halt her and said, “Don’t bother.”

Leave her alone.

The words haunted him every day, every second, no matter if he was drunk or screwing someone—or, at the way things were heading, screwing something. Anything.

Anything to forget. Anything to forget her…and leave her the hell alone.

So David had left her alone, hoping if he gave her time to heal she would forgive him. If he demonstrated that he did have a shred of decency, enough of it to give her space and time to think, she would forgive him. He kept thinking if she loved him, she should forgive him. Then he thought one way or another, she had to forgive him.

He’d sunk himself further into hell as he waited for her, as he drank to forget, fucked to forget, while every day that went by effectively managed to kill another little bit of his hope.

Hope.