Bed of Lies (21 page)

“No, I hear you loud and clear, Ev! You're not hearing
me.
So now I'll just have to state it plainly.” She leaned forward in her chair. “I am not willing to give you a divorce and if you insist on pushing this issue, I'm going to have to play hardball.”

He lowered his hands.
Hardball?

“I don't want to do it, but you're leaving me with no choice. I already consulted a lawyer and he said that even though you and I may have both cheated, your affair predates mine, so that would put you—not me—in violation of our prenup. I could argue in court that I still get half of your estate, in addition to half of your shares in Murdoch Conglomerated, because of your transgression.”

His disbelief evaporated and now flamed into anger. “That's . . . that's bullshit! You were fucking Dante long before Leila and I started seeing each other. You know that and I know that! You told me so yourself! You had been cheating with him for almost a year.”

“No, as I recall, my relationship with Dante was very brief,” she said, taking on a stilted tone like she had been coached.

Probably by her lawyer
, Evan thought with annoyance.

“I only slept with Dante a few times,” she continued. “I turned to him for comfort after I found out my husband was cheating on me with his then-secretary, Leila Hawkins. I was quite devastated. That and the alcohol Dante kept plying me with obviously impaired my judgment. If it wasn't for that, I never would have cheated on my husband.” She smiled primly and adjusted the hem of her skirt.

He shook his head. “That's a nice performance, but no judge would believe it.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But while you're arguing your case and I'm arguing mine, our divorce won't be finalized. That baby of yours could be five years old before you could legally marry someone else.”

Evan's jaw tightened. Now he could see the old Charisse reemerging: the bitter, manipulative, and vengeful woman who had made his life such a bleak place until Leila had come back to Chesterton and become the bright light to banish all that darkness.

“Okay, fine.” He interlocked his fingers and gazed coolly at his wife. “What do you want? What's the end game? You and I both know you don't give a damn about owning part of Murdoch Conglomerated. Do you want the house?
The cars?
Do you want more alimony?”

“No, Evan, for the umpteenth time, I just want my husband back! I want my rightful place at your side as Mrs. Evan Murdoch. I'm not ceding my spot to anyone,
especially
her.” She rose from her chair and wiped fussily at a wrinkle in her blouse. “I'll give you a few weeks to think it over. Let me know your decision.”

He watched dumbfounded as Charisse turned, strode toward his office door, and opened it. She paused to turn and look back at him. “Believe it or not, Evan, I still love you. And I'm not giving up on us—
ever.
”

She then shut the door behind her.

Chapter 19

C. J.

C
. J. stood in the hallway of Terrence's condo, fussing with her hair. She had spent almost an hour trying to do something with it, wrestling with the flat iron, hair spray, and styling spritz. Now, thanks to a late spring monsoon that hadn't been in the weekend forecast, all her hard work was for naught. Her hair was a mass of frizzy curls. But she guessed it didn't matter anyway. If things went the way she planned tonight, Terrence wouldn't care what her hair looked like. He'd be more concerned with . . . other things.

She took a deep, fortifying breath and pressed his doorbell.

As she waited for him to answer the door, she shivered a little in her raincoat. The air-conditioning in the hallway was giving her the chills, but she guessed it would, considering she wasn't wearing much underneath her coat. She had on a black lace bra, a thong, and a garter belt—and that was it. The lingerie had made her gasp when she saw it at the dress shop.

“It looks like pasties and dental floss! How does this qualify as underwear?” C. J. had lamented as the salesgirl shoved the padded hanger at her. It was the same salesgirl who had dressed her for the now-infamous “fourth date” with Terrence.

“It doesn't leave much to the imagination”—the salesgirl had said with a saucy wink—“but that's
the point
.”

C. J. supposed she was right, but unfortunately the getup also left her feeling naked and awkward.

“He's already seen you naked and you aren't awkward,” a voice in her head insisted. “You're sexy! You're confident! You are finally going after what you want!”

That was right. She was finally going after what she wanted, and what she wanted was Terrence Murdoch.

She had secretly lusted after him from afar, like just about every other single woman in Chesterton, but now that he was a real person to her, that lust had bloomed into something more. They had only dated for two months, but the feelings she had for Terrence, she had never had for any other man before—including her ex-fiancé, Shaun Clancy. It wasn't just the sexual awakening Terrence had spurred inside her that caused her heart to go pitter-patter and made it impossible to get him out of her mind. She was in love with Terrence. She could admit that now. He had opened her heart and her mind to endless possibilities.

“And now you're about to open your legs to him in return?” the voice asked in her head.

Yeah, that sounds about right
, C. J. thought as she heard Terrence unlock his front door.

“Hey!” she cried, feeling her pulse thrum at a breakneck speed and her palms begin to sweat when she saw him.

“Hey,” Terrence replied softly. He was wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants. His feet were bare. She imagined that he had probably been lounging on his sofa when she rang the doorbell. “I wasn't expecting you tonight. What's up?”

“Oh, nothing! Nothing! I just decided to stop by.” She kissed his cheek and then sauntered through the doorway into his living room. “I didn't catch you at a bad time, did I? Are you busy?”

She was speaking too loudly. Her voice sounded squeaky to her own ears.

“Tone it down, C. J.,” the voice in her head warned. “Try not to sound so terrified!”

But she
was
terrified. She was a twenty-six-year-old virgin about to offer herself to a man for the first time and she was going to do it wearing only a raincoat and underwear. This was new territory for her.

Terrence's handsome face creased into a bemused frown as he shut the door behind her. He shook his head. “No, I wasn't busy. Actually, I was about to head off to bed, but since you're here, I—”

“You go to bed
this
early? I'm usually awake for about another hour,” she rambled, shoving her hands into her coat pockets when she realized she was fidgeting again. “I watch the late night shows. If I really can't sleep, I'll watch the late
late
night shows, though they aren't as good. I usually end up turning off the TV and reading a book until I finally drift off to sleep.”

Terrence squinted at her. “Umm, okay. Well, anyway . . .” He paused to purse his lips. “It's a good thing you stopped by.” He walked past her and farther into the living room. His head was bowed. His back was to her. “I've got to talk to you about something, C. J.”

Talking?
Not more talking! She'd be rambling all night if he got her started again.

“Do it! Do it now!” the voice in her head urged. “Do it before you lose your nerve.”

C. J. quickly undid the belt and buttons of her raincoat, revealing the sexy ensemble underneath. She sucked in her stomach and stuck out her hip, trying her best to strike a seductive pose.

Terrence slowly turned to face her. “I don't know how to say this, but I talked to Ev today and I found out that—”

He stopped midsentence and stared at her in amazement like she had just performed a magician's trick.

“I want you, Terry,” she blurted out.

She pushed her coat off her shoulders and down her arms and let it fall to the floor. In the cold air of his living room, her entire body sprouted goosebumps. She was shaking a little, too, but not just because of the chill in the air.

“No more lessons. You don't have to be my tutor anymore. I'm . . .” She cleared her throat and slowly walked toward him. “I-I'm ready.”

The silence caught her off guard. She had just offered herself to him. He didn't have anything to say?

Confused, C. J. followed the direction of his gaze, which was presently on her feet.

“Yeah,” she muttered, looking down at her purple galoshes, “not the sexiest footwear, I know. I bought a pair of killer stilettos that would have looked a lot better. But with the rain and the mud, I didn't want to—”

Her words were abruptly smothered by his lips. Terrence had moved with record speed, nearly tossing aside his cane before he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flat against him. He had done all that before she even had the chance to realize he was kissing her. By the time she did, his hand was already sliding down her back and cupping her bare bottom. His tongue was already in her mouth and moving with the languid ease that she loved.

He reached for her bra clasp and began to fumble with it. His other hand groped for her garter. He suddenly wrenched his mouth away.

“Shit! I can't do this standing up. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and started to drag her toward the hall leading to his bedroom.

“Wait!
Your cane,” she said, leaning down to get it.

“Don't bother. Don't need it,” he muttered, tugging her again, making her trip out of one of her galoshes.

Terrence was right. He didn't need it. He quickly made his way to the bedroom, pulling her the entire time. His limp was barely noticeable. She knew he'd been walking better, but she had no idea he had gotten this good!

I guess he just needed a little encouragement
, C. J. thought with a naughty smile as he shoved open his bedroom door and turned on the overhead lights, revealing a bedroom that she knew all too well now considering the pleasurable hours she had spent here the past few weeks.

She hurriedly kicked off her remaining shoe as they walked through the door. He turned to her and started kissing her again. She tugged his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing the broad muscled chest underneath. He eased her back onto the king-sized bed and landed on top of her and she savored the reassuring feel of his weight, of his body pressed against her own. He started to remove her bra and garters again, but this time with a lot less struggle. In less than a minute, one hand was skimming her breast. The other eased between her legs, moving the flimsy lace of her thong aside.

She parted her legs in ready invitation, responding almost automatically to his touch. She had definitely become a good student under his tutelage. Her body reacted without hesitation now. She arched her hips and pelvis toward his hand, urging him onward. His fingers moved nimbly until she was slick and wet. His tongue slid across her breasts before he took one of her nipples between his teeth and clamped down hard on the sensitive nub. At the dual sensations, C. J. closed her eyes and moaned. Her body writhed in a mix of agony and ecstasy.

She didn't know how Terrence had learned how to do this, how to play her body like an expert violinist, how to coax out every shout and whimper with ease. Years of practice with countless women, maybe? She tried not to think about that right now. Instead she let her body do the thinking for her and she was rewarded with a mind-blowing orgasm that made her toes curl and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She shouted over and over again until the tremors subsided. When they finally did, C. J. pushed back the hair that had fallen into her face and slowly opened her eyes to find Terrence grinning down at her.

“I
love
to watch you come,” he whispered, making her chuckle.

“Only because it feeds your ego.”

He shrugged. “Hey, a guy's gotta get his rocks off somehow!”

“Well,” she said, licking her lips, “I can think of better ways.”

C. J. then rose from the bed and climbed on top of him. She straddled him and felt his hard-on jutting between her thighs.

“Are you really ready to do this?” a voice in her head asked.

In reply, she lowered her mouth to his and kissed him again. Terrence fisted his hand in her hair and linked an arm around her, drawing her close. She tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants and his boxers. He took her cue and shoved them down his waist and hips so that they dangled around his knees. He then shifted her aside to grope for one of the night table drawers. A box of condoms sat inside of it. As he did that, she took off her thong and tossed it to the other side of the bed.

A minute later, Terrence was wearing a condom and they were kissing again. C. J. told herself to stay in the moment, though her anxiety increased with each passing second. Despite her best efforts, the panic was starting to win.

“Don't be scared,” the voice inside her urged as Terrence climbed on top of her and settled between her parted legs. “You can do this. It won't be as bad as you think.”

Terrence left a trail of kisses along her neck and collarbone before gripping her hips and centering himself. He plunged forward without warning and sank into her with a throaty groan. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. She shouted out again—this time in pain.

Oh Jesus!
It
was
as bad as she thought it would be. Maybe even worse! Being impaled on a red-hot poker came to mind, or having a knife driven straight down her center. She gritted her teeth. Her nails dug into his back.

He plunged again with another grunt and she shouted out again. She felt like she was being split in half.

Terrence paused to gaze down at her. He frowned. “Are you okay?”

She couldn't talk. She couldn't breathe! God, the pain was so bad!

“Do we need to stop?”

His voice sounded like he was coming from the other end of a tunnel. She couldn't hear him over her frantic voice inside yelling,
Why did I do this? What was I thinking? Women do this voluntarily? Are they insane?

“C. J., talk to me,” he ordered.

She shook her head. “I'm fine,” she whispered finally, closing her eyes. “Just . . . just give me a sec, okay? Don't . . . don't move.”

He waited as she asked. Gradually the pain dulled from excruciating to somewhat bearable. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her worriedly.

“Okay, you can keep going.”

His brows furrowed. “Are you sure?”

She quickly nodded and forced a smile. “I'm sure.”

They resumed making love, but this time, Terrence was more tempered and tenuous with each thrust.

“I'm not hurting you, am I?” he would ask every other minute.

She would shake her head, her smile firmly in place.

When C. J. focused on the sensation of his warm, full lips, on the soapy smell of his skin, on the tickle of his goatee on her cheek, the pain wasn't quite so bad. Besides, love was the ultimate opiate, and she was pretty high on it right now. She could fight through the pain.

After a few minutes, Terrence's tempered pace suddenly increased in vigor. He stopped asking her if he was hurting her. Instead he closed his eyes and plunged forward again and again and again. He shouted out her name a few minutes later, then fell on top of her. He breathed heavily against her ear while she wrapped her arms around his wide shoulders.

C. J. stared at the ceiling in amazement.

I did it,
she thought with bemusement.

She had given her body to a man she truly cared about, someone she had fallen for.

Her father had once told her that the only man whom she should ever share her body with was the man that she would marry, but she had instead chosen to do it with the man that she loved.

 

C. J. woke up the next morning bleary-eyed and alone in a massive bed. She frowned when she realized the pillow beside her was empty. She reached out and placed her hand on the imprint left behind on the fluffy cotton.

“Terry,” she called out weakly, pushing herself to her elbows and squinting against the bright light. “Terry?”

He had been lying beside her a few hours ago. In the wee hours of the morning, before the sunlight had pierced his bedroom blinds, she had felt Terrence stir in bed. His hand had fallen on her hip. His lips had skimmed her neck and shoulder. She had felt his manhood nudge insistently against the back of her thighs, begging to be let in, and she had instantly turned and offered her mouth to him first, then her body. She hadn't hesitated and neither had he. They had made love a second time in the dark and quiet of his room.