Authors: Katheryn Kiden
Copyright © 2014 Katheryn Williams as Katheryn Kiden
Cover Designer: Fidem Publishing
Editor and Formatter: Wendi Temporado
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy
This book is dedicated to a new year full of love, life, and happiness.
“This isn’t what I meant when I told you about tied up Tuesdays,” I growl.
Tuesday falls forward, laughing against my chest as I struggle against the rope securing my hands to the drawer handles on my desk. It’s almost impossible for me to catch my breath when she shifts her hips so she can sit back up and smile down at me.
“It’s Tuesday, my name is Tuesday, and it’s my birthday. You’re the one that told me I could do anything I wanted today. So… I do what I want and this only seemed fitting.”
“Not what I meant,” I stress again. “I need to touch you, you know this.”
“Suck it up, cupcake.”
The teasing look in her eyes disappears when I thrust up against her and she whimpers, but the second I open my mouth, it comes back with a vengeance. “I’ve got something you can suck…”
Leaning forward, Tuesday’s breath skims across my skin as she whispers in my ear and it drives me insane. “I planned on it.” I push my head off the desk so I can watch as she uses her lips, teeth, and tongue to work her way down my body. “Besides, you got your Thursday and Friday specials at once on your birthday so this shouldn’t be a big deal.”
There’s no denying that I remember my birthday with the grin that spreads across my face. That was a good night and even though I’m not keen on sharing Tuesday with another guy, I would gladly do it again to see her fall apart like that.
I’m about to fight her on it, to beg her to let me free because the need to touch her is crazy, but the second her lips wrap around the tip of my cock I forget what I was doing. Tuesday’s fingers circle around the base while kneading my balls with her other hand. This woman, the one bent over my desk blowing me, is definitely not the same one that I met seven years ago. Everything that I loved about her back then is still there, but all the uncertainties, all the doubts she had about herself have vanished. It’s been a hell of a ride with her thus far, and I can’t wait to see what kind of trouble we can get into together.
My teeth clench together, thighs tensing as she uses her tongue to tease my piercings. Thankfully she decides to give me a bit of a break by removing her perfect mouth and just uses her hand.
“I think I need a piercing.” Her eyes glisten with a hint of mischief. I groan at the thought of having a new thing to drive her insane with.
“Tuesday, baby, I need to touch you.”
As she rounds the desk by my head she has the audacity to laugh at me in my time of need. “You need to, do you? For some reason I don’t think you do. It’s more like you want to.”
“Woman! I swear if you don’t untie me you will regret it later.”
Pulling back so she can look down at me, she knows it’s not a threat to hurt her, but a promise to give her so much pleasure she won’t know what to do. “Teasing me will get you nowhere.”
Grabbing my triceps, Tuesday pulls as hard as she can until my head drops off the desk. “This doesn’t feel like you untying me.”
“If you want to touch me, use your mouth.”
As much as I want to taste her, I don’t move after she straddles her legs on either side of my head and starts kissing her way down my body again. When she realizes that I’m not moving, which is something that never happens when she’s offering herself to me, she pushes back up and arches her brow at me.
“Untie my hands and I’ll do anything you want.”
Tuesday pouts but reaches down and loosens my hands enough for me to pull them free. “Such a poor sport.” Before she has a chance to move, I grab her hips and pull her down to my mouth. At this point I don’t even care that she’s not touching me back while I use my tongue to make her come. Could I have done this without my hands? Sure. But there’s just something about the feeling of her skin under my fingers that drives me wild. Screaming, whimpering, and moaning my name does a lot to me, but nothing like the feeling of touching her. Just as she quiets down, her head resting against my stomach as she tries to catch her breath, Sean bangs on the office door.
“Come the fuck on, you guys. Shop opened ten minutes ago!”
I chuckle against Evan’s stomach as Sean continues to rant as he walks away. This is the third time this month that he’s either walked in on us or heard us through the door because we can’t seem to stop ourselves, even at the shop.
As I pull my clothes back on, Evan swings around on the desk and drags me between his thighs as he buttons his jeans. I adjust my shirt around where his hands are sitting and lean into him.
“What are you doing New Year’s Eve?”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I shrug. “Evan, I don’t even know what I’m doing tomorrow other than working.”
I’ve let go of a lot of my issues over the years. I no longer panic if a car is behind me for more than a mile, I don’t have a bag ready for me to run, and I’m not constantly on high alert. One thing I can’t get myself to do is make plans for anything other than that day. He knows this, so why he’s asking me what I’m doing in three weeks is beyond me.
“We’ve been engaged for over three years. I want you to be my wife. I’d give up everything, the house, the shop, everything just to be your husband.”
“I don’t want you to give up anything for me,” I whisper.
I feel myself starting to panic, just like every other time he’s talked about us getting married. As always, he realizes it and does what he does best to distract me and keep me from freaking out. Today, all it takes is him sliding his hands under my shirt and up my back to pull me to him. His body against mine, his lips on my neck— it’s almost enough to have me pulling our clothes off again. He waits until he knows I’m OK to start talking again.
“I know you don’t want me to give up anything, that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying that I’d do anything to get you to marry me.” Evan sighs, pressing his forehead against mine. “You said yes when I asked you, why won’t you actually marry me?”
“I’m scared,” I tell him honestly. “I’m still scared that something from my past is going to come back and bite me in the ass and I don’t want you to get hurt because of how attached you are to me.”
“Nothing is going to happen. I know that deep inside you know that nothing is actually going to happen and even if it does, we’ll stop it.”
I don’t speak for a minute while I think about everything he’s said. I know it’s only hurting him every time I tell him I can’t go through with the wedding. Sighing, I take a deep breath and will myself to push the words out.
“Why New Year’s Eve?”
“Because I want to wake up and start the new year as your husband,” Evan says without hesitation.
I nod, biting my lip and I know he can tell I’m petrified. “How the hell can I say no to something like that?”
“Was that a yes?” He pulls back and stares at me, obviously waiting for me to change my mind again.
“It was never that I didn’t want to marry you, Evan. You’re the best thing that I could ever hope for. It’s that I wanted you to be able to walk away if you didn’t feel comfortable without having to worry about legal shit.”
When I’m finally able to make myself look at him, his smile is blinding and I doubt he’s heard anything I’ve said after telling him yes. Jumping up from the desk, Evan hoists me over his shoulder, holding me still with a hand on my ass, and heads out into the main part of the shop and toward the door.
“You’re in charge today, Sean,” he yells over his shoulder. “We have a wedding to plan.”
The clapping from the waiting room as we pass by makes me blush and when Sean jumps up from his chair and yells something about it being about time it just gets worse. I don’t say anything to stop Evan from leaving the shop even though I should because seeing him this excited isn’t something that I get to see very often. If this is the reaction I’m going to get when I tell him yes, I’ll never tell him no again.
For the first time in almost a month I don’t feel like I’m drowning in paperwork and planning. With the label’s Christmas party in a few days and everything else I have to do to keep everyone happy, it seems like I never stop going. If I’m not on the phone, I’m having papers shoved into my face to sign or problems to fix for artists that can’t seem to do anything for themselves. It’s nice to finally have time to breathe.
Leaning back against the elevator wall, I take the two seconds I have to breathe before the doors open. I know as soon as they do I will have a stack of messages and emails waiting for me in my office again. When the doors finally do spring back I’m met with the forced smile of Jameson as he waits for me. As usual, I make myself force one back. Just as he’s about to say something, his phone rings and just like always, he answers.
“We need to talk,” he says before greeting whoever is on the other end of the line.
“We always need to talk,” I mutter under my breath as I push my way through my office door, not bothering to wait for him.
Just as I suspected, there’s a pile of messages waiting for me. I flip through them, hoping something will take my mind off the fact that I just let Jameson walk away again without finding out what he needs. It makes me feel like a shitty wife and since I haven’t seen my kids in over two days, I feel even shittier. I wish I knew what he needed so I could just get it for him instead of him trying to catch me all the time. When my door creaks open, I plaster on a smile just in time for Jameson to poke his head around the corner.
“Got a minute?”
I nod but don’t say anything. He doesn’t bother sitting which doesn’t surprise me. Something is wrong between the two of us. We both know it, but neither one of us can fix it.
Stand up. Kiss him. Do something! I tell myself, but I don’t move.
With his hands stuffed in his pockets, he rocks back on his heels. “Tuesday’s birthday.”
Jameson rolls his eyes and sighs. “I’ll just sign your name.”
“I’m sorry! I forgot. I have a lot going on here if you haven’t noticed.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed, don’t worry about it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I bite out.
“Sophia’s Christmas concert.”
My mouth drops. How could I have missed that? She’s been talking about it for weeks and I can’t believe I still forgot. Tears spring to my eyes but instead of pulling me into him like he used to to comfort me, Jameson just stands there and watches.
It’s not that there’s a lack of love between us, not on my part at least, but we hit a snag. One that keeps us standing in one spot while it unravels on its own. It’s one of those things that if you don’t catch it in time, there will be no way to fix it. I can’t help but wonder if we’ve let things unravel too far to repair them.
“Something needs to change here.” Without bothering to look at me any longer, he turns to leave, only stopping when I call out to him.
“Please don’t walk out like this.” The plea that leaves my mouth is barely loud enough for me to hear, but Jameson catches it like I screamed.
“Like what?” he asks, finally turning back around. “Like a man who misses his wife? Or like a father to children who miss their mother? Do you even realize what you’re missing when you don’t come home until after everyone is asleep?” When I don’t say anything, he continues to rant and I can’t help but wonder how long he’s kept all this bottled up. “You do know that Izzy’s petrified because you’re not around and Sophia’s the same age she was when Alex died and when your parents died. She’s scared that one of these nights that she doesn’t see you before she falls asleep will be because something happened. Not just because you think this job is more important than your family.”