Rose of Betrayal (15 page)

Bracketing his haggard, damp face
with both hands, her voice relayed her concern. “Brad, you look awful.”

“I feel awful,
Bernie,” he whispered.
 

Snake like his arm
circled her waist.
 
He jerked her against
him.
 
There was no mistaking the arousal
pressing against her stomach.
 
Wasting no
time his lips found hers, a kiss curling her toes and making her weak.
 
“Lord, if this is a dream, I never want to wake
up.
 
Do you hear me?
 
Never,” she whined.

His kiss intensified
and deepened, his eager tongue entered her mouth as his skillful fingers
slipped the robe from her shoulders.
 
A
strong firm hand claimed a breast.
 
For a
brief moment he loosened his hold just enough to remove his overcoat and suit
jacket, not caring that they found the floor.

           
Strong
capable arms snatched her off the floor bringing forth a gush of breath.
 
He was moving toward the sofa with a
purpose.
 
Knowing what he wanted, afraid
he might change his mind, Bernie’s hands fumbled with his belt and zipper.
 
Carefully positioning her on the cushions, he
lowered himself on top. Her skin soft and pliable, felt wonderful beneath him.
 
Delirious with desire their bodies began
moving like a raging tide.
 
His knees
nudged her legs apart, her hand found what it sought.
 
Long legs encircling his haunches encouraged
him to enter her.
 
The moment he did, a
moan split the air.
 
“Oh, God, Sam, I
need you, want you,” word’s that instantly turned the subtle, body beneath into
cold hard steel.
 

“You fool,” she chided herself,
“First Ted, and now you.
 
Leave it to
some country hick to come between us.
 
I
finally get him into the sack and he thinks he is screwing her.”

           
Feeling
the luscious body beneath tense, Brad froze.
 
It was not until looking into her glazed eyes that he realized what he’d
said.
 
At once, every muscle of his body
went limp.
 
Jerking upright, stuffing his
anatomy back where it belonged, he yanked the zipper closed. “I'm sorry,
sweetheart, so sorry.
 
I don't know
what's wrong with me.
 
Forgive me,
Bernie.”

           
Palms
slamming against his chest hurled Brad onto the floor with a loud crash.
 
Irate, Bernie sat up shouting, “Damn you,
Brad Johnson.
 
I'd like to strangle the
shit out of you, scratch your eyes out, but . . . but . . .”
 

           
Clouds
floating past a small sooty window barely permitting the moon's glow to
penetrate spotlighted the gap in Brad's shirt exposing a chest full of hair and
the tie hanging loosely.
 
Warmth
beginning at her toes flashed upward as she watched him sit up; draw his knees
to his chest to rest his elbows.
 
His
hands raked his hair.
 
Closing his
eyelids forced tears between the cracks that bravely clung to long, dark,
upswept lashes.
 
Sights reminding Bernie
how much she loved him.

           
Her
anger vanished.
 
“I can't.
 
I can't even get mad at you.
 
You're a rogue, a handsome, worthless piece
of shit.
 
Do you know that?
 
I hate you . . . I love you . . . No, I take
that back.
 
I mostly hate you, O.K?”

When his hand reached to soothe hers,
Bernie jerked away screaming, “Don't you touch me, you shit head.”

           
Steeling
her mouth, arms folded across her chest, she stared forward trying to regain
composure.
 
Women were their own worst enemies,
she sputtered inwardly, for being too damn vulnerable, for loving
unselfishly.
 
Damn men to hell for being
born with the ability to protect themselves from the hurt's women suffered an
ability she hated especially at the moment.
 

           
Betraying
herself, seconds later she glanced again at Brad.
 
His despair disintegrated her heart.
 
Fingers reaching out gently smoothed his
flyaway locks, and then moved to caress his cheek.
 
Words choked through her emotions, “You need
a shave,” she whispered. “What's wrong, baby?
 
Tell me what you want.
 
What I can
do?”

           
Embarrassed
and frustrated, feeling like an abandoned child, Brad climbed upon the sofa and
stretched out the length of her, sandwiching her naked body between him and the
back cushions.
 
“Just lay with me, let me
hold you.
 
Tell me everything will be
O.K.
 
Make it all go away, Bernie.
 
Please, please.”

Cheeks touching allowed their tears
to merge.
 
Cradling him in her arms, she
soothed, “It’s O.K., baby, it’s O.K.
 
I'm
here.”

           
Feeling
more love than she wanted too, than she ever believed possible, she combed her
fingers though his thick tresses until his body relaxed and his tears
subsided.
 
His head lifted from the crook
of her neck, needy lips found her forehead, her cheek, in an attempt to kiss away
the hurt he had caused.
 
Her head
turned.
 
Lips connected, this time
gently, sweetly, his playing a melody she‘d never heard.
 
Somehow, against her will she allowed his
tongue to steal between her lips, entering, delving deeper with each
penetration begging for more than she thought her broken heart could give.
 
Growing hard against her, this time he did
not have to urge her legs apart, they did so willingly, her inviting hand
directing his penis to her warm cavern.
 
Nature took over, showing them what moves to make, how fast to
ride.
 
This time there was no rush.
 
Both needed what the other offered.
  
Although both wanted their union to last,
the sensations became unbearable, each slow purposeful thrust encouraging
delirium to take over.
 
She screamed into
his mouth, and he hers.
 
Clinging to one
another, sweat mingling, with lips leaving nothing unexplored, they trembled
together.
 
A time when she felt her heart
become disembodied from her.
 
After, they
snuggled and slept just long enough to regain strength for an encore that
lasted longer than the first.
 

           
Fully
aware the love she felt for him he would never be returned it was gratifying
that Brad needed her, sought her out, if only for one night.
 
An evening that would remain pasted into the
album of her heart forever.

           
As
they recovered, believing he had fallen asleep, an unexpected lecture spilled
from Bernie’s mouth. “You fool.
 
You damn
fool.
 
It serves you right for falling in
love before giving me a chance.
 
Although
I guess, I always knew I never had one.
 
She’s going to break your heart, you stupid jerk, she will ruin you, I
know it.
 
I feel it.”

Though pretending not too, Brad heard
every word.
 
Lying motionless staring at
the cracked and stained ceiling, he held her until her sobs subsided and she
drifted asleep.
 

           
Careful
not to wake her, easing away he stood looking down at the brown hair splayed
across the pillow, her elegant naked body.
 
Bernie was beautiful, desirable in every way.
 
Anger shook him for knowing she loved him,
probably loved him more than anyone ever would.
 
Unwilling to hurt her again, he knew there could never be another time
for them.
 
Regretfully, beyond the
pleasures of her body, she would never be Sam.

           
A
woman of the night had given him the strength to do what he had to do, confront
Ted.
 
He had to quench the terrible
compelling need within to find out what was going on, how long Sam was going to
stay, and if she was all right, if Ted really loved her.
 
More importantly, he needed to deal with his
feelings for someone he did not even know, really.

CHAPTER 14

 
“OCTOBER 2010”

           
Having spent the evening at
an elegant nightclub, throughout dinner Sam and Ted consumed enough champagne
to bring on a mellow, uninhibited mood.
 
Dancing
to music that invited slow intimate steps along with the fragrance of Sam's
body were aphrodisiacs that stripped Ted of his defenses and toyed with his
fantasies.
 
  

           
Sam’s
nipples were visible through the sheer fabric of her dress did not help.
 
Becoming lost in her Ted felt as though he
would drown in emotion.
 
An odd lazy heat
engulfing him strengthening the sensations prickling his skin tightened his
genitals.
 
Desires grew
self-destructive.
 

By the time they returned to the penthouse, Ted was a sheet
of flame, the coveting stirring within a threat, a danger.
 
Closing and locking the door, he purposely
neglected to flick on the light.
 
Instead
positioning his hands on the wall on opposing sides of Sam's head, supported
his frame as it leaned pinning her hard against the surface.
 
One hand found the back of her head, fingers
crawling through tresses.
 
The other
splayed across the width of her jaw secured it in a stronghold.
 
Lips found hers, a proficient tongue
spreading soft pliable lips in its anxiousness to explore her inner
sweetness.
 
A knee came between her legs.

          
Revolted
by his body moving like a tidal wave, Sam tried to squirm away her desperate
moves causing his fingers to draw her locks up tight.
 
The hand-holding her jaw slid down her silky
throat to trace the cleavage exposed by the plunging neckline of her dress,
then came to rest between the mounds heaving from apprehension.
 
Thick from passion his voice whispered, “I
want to see your breasts.”
 
His fingers
eagerly drew her dress aside exposing a round, golden globe.

          
Feeling
as though a fly trapped in a spider’s web awaiting consumption panic struck
with an amazing force.
  
Never before was
Ted so brazen, so forceful.
 
Rape groped
her mind the reality making her suddenly aware there was no matching his
strength.
 
Her first time could not be
like this she thought as she wrenched her face away abruptly ending his kiss.

In response Ted moaned, “I have to have you, Sam.
 
I cannot take this any longer.
 
Please, for Christ's sake, let me have you.”

          
Hot,
wet kisses stole her breath and robbed her of any verbal protest.
 
Strength shot to her palms that shoved at his
chest.
 
Countering her resistance, anger
lowered his mouth to a breast where he painfully sucked the dark erect
bud.
 
Removing his hand from her hair
tore away the comb securing ebony waves.
  
An arm securing her waist held her steadfast against him while he
unleashed his throbbing penis.
  
With his
frame imprisoning her, a hand wandering to the hem of her dress lifted it to her
waist while she struggled, and screamed and cried.
  
      

She felt his fingers slip beneath the edge of her silk
panties, gather them, and with one quick jerk rip them free.
  
It was when the power of his penis began
rubbing against her bare skin, that abhorrence struck its mighty blow.
 
His moans of ecstasy shot a frisson of terror
through her bringing power to fists that were now pounding his shoulders.
  
“Stop, Ted.
 
Please! Oh, God, please don’t do this, not this way.
 
You're drunk.
 
You don't know what you're doing.
 
You'll get me pregnant.
 
Please,
Ted, please, I'm scared,” she pleaded.