A Commitment to Love, Book 3 (7 page)

“I’m the queen of the day.”

I got to the first step and lowered to my knees. The water rose to my shoulders. “What would you have me do?”

She left the tub’s edge. I backed up to give her more space. Deeper, she got into the water, sinking farther down and letting the hot water cover her body. For several silent seconds, we stared at each other, as candlelit shadows flickered around us.

“I love you.” Tears spilled from her face.

I reached out and she moved my hand away.

“No, I’m fine,” she whispered.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t touch you.” I kept my hand barely an inch from her face.

She backed away. “No. Not tonight. Let’s do something different.”

“Different?”

“Yes, different.” She turned around, leaned over the edge, and propped her plump behind above the water. Breath escaped my chest. It was so moist and inviting. The wet lace now looked painted on her, like they were one in the same—her lovely body and the pattern. The crotchless area drove me crazy. With her ass in the air, those folds stared back at me, groaning for my tongue.

“I’m really hungry.” I bit my lip.

“Not tonight.”

“I can’t lick you tonight? I’m pretty sure that’s against every rule of our relationship.” I closed the distance, but didn’t touch her yet. “I didn’t sign up for that.”

“Just fuck me hard.” She kept her back to me and I hated it, knew she had to still be crying.

“No, not tonight.”

“Yes.”

“Jasmine, look at me, baby.”

“Not tonight, Chase. Just fuck me.”

I can’t lose her.

“Fuck me.”

And so I did. I clutched her full hips and traced those wet folds with the point of my cock.

“Fuck me all night, Chase. I don’t want to remember anything, but you inside me.”

Pre-come spilled out of my tip. I smeared it against her skin, just wanting to merge my body with her in any way. Desire roared in my chest. I shoved it all out of my head—Lucy’s death, Benny’s threats, and even the engagement ring that still sat in my pocket.

“I love you, too, Jasmine.” I slipped inside of her, and my whole body throbbed hard with each inch.

“Mmmm, it always feels so good going in.”

“And how does it feel when it leaves?”

“It just makes me want you more.” She backed onto my cock, rocking with my rhythm. Her ass cheeks slapped against my thighs. Water gushed. Candlelight flickered as shadows danced along blue and brown tiles. The music of her moans and our bodies’ melodies was nothing new in this space.

But.

Something was off.

I could taste the hard truth on my tongue.

“Oh, Chase,” Jasmine moaned.

And from then on,

with every further moan,

I pretended like everything was going to be okay.

We came together,

and again I told myself that it would all be fine.

It would all work out.

But.

Lies were always easier to swallow.

C
HAPTER
4

Jasmine

D
ressed
in jogging clothes and standing in front of the bed, I stared at my sleeping Chase.
God, I’m going to miss you.
Naked, he lay on his back with his sculpted arms splayed across the bed.

Even in his sleep, he dominated everything.

The more I gazed at him, the more I cried. He was pale flesh over chiseled muscle, an expanse of masculine sexuality encased in a huge ego that had been cracking little-by-little with our love.

Now it was all over.

This is going to hurt him, but there’s no way around it. I can’t think of any other way to save us.

Once the snores came, I slipped out of bed and got dressed. I didn’t need to pack. He’d bought everything in this condo from my clothes and jewelry to every piece of furniture. I couldn’t take it, and even if he tried to give the stuff to me, it would be too many memories.

Usually a light sleeper, he’d exhausted himself with my body. All night, we made love—from the bathtub’s bubbling edge to the silk sheets of our bed, on the kitchen countertop to finally on the balcony overlooking Oshane city. A sore ache bellowed through my body. He’d put his name and scent all over me.

And now I would say good-bye.

Should I leave a letter? When I left that message in India, he didn’t like it. Fuck! He won’t like this either way. At least I can let him know that it wasn’t anything he did. After a while, he would understand.

I tiptoed out of the bedroom, right as small rays of sunlight peeked through the condo’s hallway. Most of the walls were huge windows.

When we first checked out the place, I thought I would feel too exposed to the world. Once we moved in, I realized that we were far enough away for no one to see us, unless of course it was a peeping tom. Chase’s security was decent enough, where I didn’t stress about that too much.

Nevertheless, the sun rose in the sky, and instead of sneaking away in darkness, I had to face the truth of my ugliness right in the light, for all to see.

I hate you, Benny. I hate you.

In the kitchen, Chase’s cook messed around with pots and didn’t notice me slip by the doorway. She was a small Cuban woman named Maylin and made the best
ropa vieja
. The braised skirt steak always swam in a flavorful tomato sauce that addicted me at the first bite. The rice fluffed. The chili peppers perfectly merged with the cloves of garlic. Chase had spent months finding the perfect person for us, knowing how much of a food snob I was.

Who could ever take his place? No one. I couldn’t even consider anyone else.

I continued to his small office, closed the door behind me, found a pad of paper on his desk, and started the letter.

Dear Chase,

I …

The pen dangled between my fingers.

Dear Chase,

I’m sorry.

A shiver of fear ran through me. So many things went through my mind. What would this do to him, after losing Lucy? He didn’t have a lot of people he could turn to. What would happen to him? Was it my heart or ego’s thinking that his life would collapse without my love?

I sighed.

Dear Chase,

I’m sorry. I know Benny. He will kill you. I can’t let that happen. Our love is not worth your death. Our love is not worth other people’s deaths. Our love …

I lost it right there.

More tears fell.

And it was that ugly, choking cry,

the one you only did alone,

when just the shadows witnessed the breakdown,

when you just couldn’t keep it in anymore,

and no one was around to judge,

or point,

or tell another soul,

or kick me,

while I was already down on the ground.

My face scrunched up into distorted expressions. The pen fell from my hand. I hugged myself, and prayed for the strength to walk away.

Don’t be so selfish that you’d lose him. Rather I love him from afar, on the TV screen and in magazines, than lose him from the world forever.

I wiped my face with my sleeve, picked up the pen, and finished the letter.

Dear Chase,

…I need you to move on. I’m leaving. Don’t look for me, because you won’t find me. Let me go.

Jasmine.

I set the letter on his desk, and hoped he would find it, before going crazy and searching for me. With him sleeping, I would have an hour head start, maybe even more. His guards and he would think I was out jogging. I did a lot of my morning runs. I never let his security follow me, which we’d fought over weekly. But still, Chase and his guards gave in, and left me alone for those jogs.

Okay. Now where am I going?

I didn’t have a big plan. There were only two ways that I could hide from Chase. Either I could go to Benny or South End. The latter wasn’t a sure thing, but South End was the only one I felt comfortable with. Chase would never consider my hiding in the hood.

At least, I hoped not.

It took five minutes to tiptoe out of his office and get to the back entrance, where his cleaning staff usually parked and entered each day. By now, savory smoke filled the space as Maylin cooked something marvelous. My stomach growled, yet I pushed on. If I didn’t leave before Chase woke up, then I would never go. He owned my heart. I couldn’t deny him.

If he stood right in front of me and begged me to stay, I would.

I got this. Don’t look back. Walk forward. I’ll figure it out.

At the back door, I paused and held the doorknob.

Is there any other way? Maybe, I don’t have to leave. No. Stop it.

My heart beat fast in my chest, just booming in my head at this crazy pattern. Scenario after scenario flashed through my mind. Every one ended with Chase bloody and sprawled on the ground. Each one ended in tears and heartbreak.

Our love isn’t worth his death.

Maybe I really was a fairytale princess after all. The real ones never ended with some blissful and happy marriage. That was Disney’s altering of the stories. The company wanted to bring joy and make money. In the end, who would want the kids to watch a horror princess story and then race home in tears?

The original fairytales ended badly.

In the older version, Cinderella killed her first stepmother. Her dad actually married the housekeeper who then verbally abused our lovely princess years later. Perhaps, Cinderella deserved it.

The true Sleeping Beauty never woke up from the handsome prince’s kiss. Her kids did it. Instead of lip-to-lip action with a comatose chick, the prince went for it all, had sex with a sleeping princess, and impregnated her. The babies woke her up. I hated that story most of all. How much love could a violating creep provide?

And don’t let me get started on the Little Mermaid. Poor chick never got the man, and so she dove into the sea and disappeared.

I squeezed the knob hard.

Stop stalling. Leave.

I opened the door.

Benny sat on the first step, carving an apple.

What the hell is he doing here?

He wore jeans and a T-shirt. Beside him lay a gun with a silencer at the tip. Amusement wrinkled across his face. It was in the twinkle of his fucking eyes, and the wicked half-smile plastered all over his smug face. Whistling, he continued to carve his apple, sculpting it into some twisted art piece. I studied the blood red fruit between his fingers. The son of a bitch had placed a broken heart in the center. Was it mine? Did he revel in the fact that I hurt? Or was it all for Chase? Did it even matter, in this dark man?

Red peelings scattered on the floor around his feet. He sliced some of the heart away and ate it. “How are you doing, sweet Jasmine?”

“Why are you here?” I quietly shut the door behind me.

“I figured you would need a ride.”

“A ride where?”

He sliced off another inch of fruity flesh, and plopped it in his mouth. “I figured you would need a ride to a place where Chase couldn’t find you.”

“You figured wrong.” I walked past him and down the stairs, hoping he would follow and get as far away from Chase’s home as possible. “I don’t need your help. Go away. You’re getting what you want. I’m leaving him. Now, move the fuck on.”

“You never cursed around me before.”

“I never had to.”

“I don’t like it.”

I stopped on the fourth step and faced him. “I don’t give a fuck.”

What was I thinking? This man, my father, was evil, sick, a killer, and dangerous in every sense of the word.

What was I thinking?

Of Chase,

and all that we’d lost,

and all the things that would never come,

babies that looked like mixtures of us, Chase Stone the third, a tan version of him with green eyes and brown, chubby cheeks, and bouncing curls. Little Vivian, the daughter I would name after my best friend and now sister. Chase would think little Vivian was a perfect angel, whether it was true or not. He would spoil her like he pampered me, and I would be so happy with my life,