I inched my legs apart as far as they would go with his legs on each side, and I waited. He squeezed my nipple at the same time his hand moved on its own between my legs. Taking it slow, he made tiny circles over my clit with the pads of his fingers as he pistoled his hips against my back in the same slow rhythm as his fingers.
My hips lifted from the sofa, silently urging him to move his fingers down and inside of me, filling a void only he could fill. Erasing the intrusive trespassing of the man who, in all honesty, raped me the previous night.
Feeling completely out of my skin with need, I pushed his hand lower and moaned as the pad of his middle finger pressed to my entrance.
I wanted him inside of me so badly.
Before I could silence my need, he had me flipped onto my back, his shirt shrugged off. His jean-clad lower body wedged between my legs, thrusting against me, as his lips attacked my mouth and his hand shoved my bra up so my breasts pressed to his warm chest. Both of his hands gripped the arm of the sofa as he dry-humped me, the denim giving me so much friction I saw stars behind my closed eyes when I orgasmed.
Ronin’s moves were hard, almost violently so, and he yelled as he found his own release.
It brought instant tears to my eyes because he yelled her name.
Completely out of breath and sticky with sweat, Ronin collapsed onto me, tucking his face into my neck as his body started to shake.
He was crying. Ronin was crying.
“No. No. No …” His words destroyed me.
It reaffirmed what I knew in the deepest, darkest depths of my soul—I wanted to die. The pain would stop for me and Ronin. My time was near.
Something I mistook for reason whispered to my conscience, telling me to tell Ronin the truth about Evelyn and Graham. But I just couldn’t. Their fate wasn’t mine to decide. I let Ronin cheat on his wife of his own accord. I had to let fate take care of the truth in its own time.
I waited, emotionally preparing for him to climb off me and run out of the house without so much as a glance back. But he didn’t. Once his sobs subsided, he moved us so we were on our sides, hugging, legs intertwined … and then we slept.
Two hours later, I woke from a deep sleep all alone with a blanket covering my half naked body and no sign of Ronin.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Evelyn
Oh the nevers …
I never imagined falling in love at a bubble tea cafe in Vancouver.
I never imagined marrying a man after knowing him for only a few months.
I never imagined that man would cheat on me.
But more than all of those nevers put together and multiplied times infinity … I never imagined my best friend screwing my perfect husband.
The truth?
I didn’t know anything for sure. I just knew something in my gut caused me to leave my kids with Sue and have Sophie cover the shop while I followed my husband. Honestly, I imagined him driving to Adrianne’s apartment. I never imagined the trail would lead me all the way to Denver, to the Porter estate. Yet that was where it led me.
I waited outside of the gate, just down the street. I waited for three hours. And while my mind tried to play tricks on me, forcing me to think the unthinkable, I never truly imagined I’d peek through the gate three hours later and see him practically stumbling out the front door, pulling on his shirt and jacket and carrying his shoes.
That day marked the beginning of the end, just not how I imagined it. Life never went in the imagined direction. It traipsed through the mud, climbed impossible mountains, and leapt the widest oceans. But usually not without getting muddy, slipping off a few cliffs, and drowning in the current.
Where to go?
What to do?
I didn’t know that answer. Our actions affected two children. Packing a single bag and skipping town or tossing Ronin out of my house held consequences for Franz and Anya.
Instead of busting into Lila’s house, demanding answers, I made the long drive home, being mindful to stay far behind Ronin’s car. I needed the time to think, to let my knee-jerk reaction calm into something less hostile.
I made it to Franz’s school twenty minutes early. Twenty more minutes to let my emotions make sense. When we arrived home, Franz hopped out excited to see Ronin’s car.
“Daddy’s home!”
“Daddy’s home,” I mumbled to myself.
Mrs. Humphrey greeted us as Ronin held a finger to his lips. “Shh … she’s sleeping.”
My baby girl wasn’t well yet—another reason I needed to be meticulous with my words and actions. Everything we did had aftershocks that could be felt for many miles.
“Go wash your hands, Franz.” I shooed him toward the bathroom, and Mrs. Humphrey followed him.
Keeping my eyes on Anya, in spite of feeling Ronin’s gaze heavy on me, I kissed her warm forehead. Before I could stand straight again, Ronin pressed his free hand to my cheek.
It hurt. That look in his eyes hurt more than his touch, more than the memory of him leaving Lila’s house, more than anything. I had never seen so much torment and regret with one look.
“How was your day?” he whispered.
It felt like my mom died all over again.
I shrugged. “How was your day?”
He released my face and drew his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes slightly narrowed. “I’ve had better days.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Maybe later.”
Later …
It felt like the longest evening of my life waiting for later.
Making dinner.
Walking Mrs. Humphrey.
Washing dishes.
Baths for the kids.
Bedtime stories.
Rocking Anya to sleep.
When later came, I didn’t get a confession or a long description of Ronin’s day.
I got a kiss. A hard kiss.
I got needy hands tugging at my clothes.
I got pushed against the bedroom wall as if the bed was just too far.
Ronin stole my breath, my words, my fight.
Tears begged to be set free. Words fought for their voice. All thoughts evaporated as he suffocated me with his need. That need broke my heart as tiny pieces of the puzzle started to align. This explosive need came from Lila.
The day he said he was going to Denver for CPR—he went to see Lila.
They shared something I couldn’t completely understand. He felt her … but on what level?
I couldn’t believe he’d cheat on me. I refused to believe Lila would do this to me. There had to be some other explanation. But why the secrecy? If they weren’t having an affair, why lie to me?
So many questions. Ronin didn’t give me a chance to ask a single one before he had half of our clothes ripped off and his cock buried inside of me on a painful grunt. A bed … we had a bed. But he chose the wall as if to prove the depth of his need, the urgency to be inside of me.
I kissed him because I loved him and needed him—needed us—so much that the idea of losing what we had made jagged cuts into my heart, tearing away pieces of my soul.
Over the next few hours—into the early morning hours—I tried to approach the subject of Lila, but Ronin silenced me with his mouth, his hands, his whole body manipulating mine, giving me pleasure but not without pain.
After he passed out a little before two in the morning, I set my tears free and muted my sobs with my pillow. Many years earlier, I’d helped Lila concoct a custom scent for all of her bath products—a very distinct scent made just for her. I knew that scent well.