"You say no, but your body communicates something completely different." He shifts me on his lap; I'm facing forward now. Then he lifts my hair off my shoulders and bites the tender spot at the base of my neck. It lights me up like fireworks. I arch my head, praying he'll lick me. "See?" He hooks an arm around my waist, locking me against his body.

"Why torture each other?"

"Because it feels so good," he growls into my ear.

He's relentless, and I'm incapable of denying him or myself the pleasure.

"Remember that night in high school?" he asks, sounding mischievous.

I've begged him to forget about it. But our history together is our strongest link. There's something incredibly wonderful about reliving moments like these. There's unspoken trust and kinship. "Yes."

"I want to hear you tell me why you ran away."

"I gave you the letter."

"Yes," he says. "But I wasn't drunk, Erin. Not sure why you think I was."

Oh G.o.d. Truth sucks sometimes. "I don't remember."

He lets my hair go. "Turn around, baby."

I do, unable to look him in the eyes.

He tilts my chin. "I'm waiting."

I buy some time pretending to get more comfortable. I'm straddling his lap, my knees squeezing his thighs. "Can we talk about something else?"

"After you tell me."

I shake my head, refusing to give in. It might be hopeless to fight our attraction, but I can't budge on this one. I'm not into self-humiliation. If he ever found out . . .

"I already know."

"Excuse me?" I'm afraid of what he's going to say next.

He nudges me back and unzips his pants. Heat surges through my body at the thought of seeing him naked again. I've caught hints of his tanned skin and muscles. No.

"Give me your hand, baby."

He doesn't wait and grabs my fingers, then ma.s.sages gently. He's so warm and alive, so pa.s.sionate and uninhibited. I'm the opposite, scared and unsure of myself.

"Years," he reminds me.

I close my eyes and picture the past. That's when he guides my hand down his pants. I feel soft hair and heat. Then soft skin. s.h.i.t. As if it were the most natural thing to do, I grip his erection, loving the velvet smoothness, how thick and hard it is.

"Open your eyes, Erin."

Again I follow his instructions, finding myself lost in his stare. He's a snake charmer or master magician. He slouches against the leather cushions, granting me better access to his body. I reach inside with my other hand, pawing and exploring. He's so perfect, so unbelievably hard and soft at the same time. I can't let go of his d.i.c.k, so I stroke it.

"Wait, baby," he says a few minutes later.

I remove my hands from his pants and he reaches inside and frees his d.i.c.k. It's in full view now, thick and long and so hard I want it inside me.

"I would never hurt you," he whispers, guiding my hand back. "Touch me again, Erin."

I fall against him and our lips connect. He cups my face between both hands. Slanting his head, he sucks my tongue into his mouth. I moan and squeeze his c.o.c.k harder, stroking faster and faster until he throws his head back and shouts. "Erin, f.u.c.k." Warm liquid shoots out.

I love knowing I made Foster come.

Chapter 21.

Erin I haven't managed my life very wisely. The more time I spend with Foster, the harder it gets to imagine myself living out my fantasies with Jeffrey. In fact, I can't. I've ignored a flurry of calls from him over the last week. But that doesn't change what I have to do to protect my family. My future is with Thomas. Period.

I'm meeting Katie at Denny's for breakfast. I'm already sitting at our favorite spot in the corner. It's dark and rainy outside. The doors open and she struts in with an open umbrella wearing a red raincoat and matching boots. She closes the umbrella and hangs it and her coat on the rack, then straightens her blouse. She automatically looks my direction and smiles.

I've already ordered our traditional short stacks, bacon, and orange juice. Coffee is on the table. She slides into the bench across from me.

"Another sleepless night?"

"I'm a moron."

She chuckles. "Why?"

"I can't keep having clandestine meetings with Foster. We spent all night together again. I'm exhausted and confused. However, I do have some good news. The Halloween party is tomorrow and I know what I need to do about Jeffrey."

"Finally recognized the wisdom in what I told you before? Cancel your membership, blow off Thomas, and accept Foster for what he's meant to be, your future."

The waitress delivers our plates.

I saturate my pancakes with maple syrup. "Maybe in a perfect world. Thomas has made it abundantly clear that after tomorrow, we're a real couple. I can't keep ignoring the facts. I'm the only lifeline my parents have."

"Your father is responsible for his own mistakes, not you." She shoves a straw in her gla.s.s and takes a long drink of juice. "Listen, Saint Erin, can't you seek counsel from the church or talk to a cop off the record? Maybe an attorney?"

"My family is so high profile, the second I mention our name, someone will alert the media."

She shakes her head. "I'm glad I come from an ordinary, middle-cla.s.s family."

"Want to swap places?"

"Sorry, girlfriend, I love my peeps too much."

I sigh, wishing I had a different life.

"So, about Jeffrey . . ."

"I'll attend the party, but the first chance I get to pull him aside, I'll explain why I changed my mind."

"Good. And Foster?"

"Email?"

She slaps my hand. "Don't even go there."

"I can't see him again, we almost slept together last night. A phone call, that's the best and safest choice I have to say goodbye." I nibble on a piece of crispy bacon. No matter how I feel, I can't let my emotional attachment to Foster get in the way of following through with Thomas.

But I love Foster.

"You've spent time rebuilding your friendship, getting closer. How can you walk away? Don't let Thomas win. Let Foster be your first or you'll spend the rest of your life regretting it."

I hold up my left hand, staring at my ring finger. "In a few days I'll have a two-carat diamond on this finger. A gift from Thomas' grandmother. How can I sleep with Foster and turn around and accept an engagement ring from Thomas?"

"The a.s.shole is blackmailing you. Screw commitment."

"Maybe I'll add that to the prenup."

"Prenup?" she yells.

"Lower your voice." I look around, embarra.s.sed. "Yes, not the traditional kind. Thomas mentioned something about a list of expectations I have to fulfill in order for my father to maintain control of his company and other a.s.sets."

"A f.u.c.k clause."

"What?"

"He's not taking any chances I bet. Thomas wants to make sure you consummate the marriage."

Thank G.o.d I have a voice of reason in my life. I'm so preoccupied with Foster I can't think straight half the time. Eventually the subject of s.e.x would need to be fully discussed. Thomas has already expressed interest in fathering two or three children. I suggested artificial insemination.

We finish our breakfast in relative silence, the gloom and doom of my future prospects too much for me to accept.

Two hours later I'm on my patio sipping lemonade. The forecast calls for temperatures in the low-fifties for the next few days. Hints of sunshine break through the dark clouds overhead and I smile grimly. That's the prefect representation of my life, cloudy with only a chance of sunshine. Am I really willing to sacrifice my own happiness to keep my family's secrets? Would my mother and father do the same? I have to confront them.

Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men. Lord Acton's words couldn't be truer.

My cell buzzes, and I gaze lazily at the table next to my chair. Foster. I answer on the sixth ring.

"Good morning, baby," he greets.

"h.e.l.lo, Foster." I'm not going to put off the bad news any longer.

"You don't sound happy."

"I'm not."

There's a short pause. "What's wrong, Erin?"

"We need to talk."

"My thought exactly. I'll drive over."

"No!" I sit up, my whole body one tense muscle.

"All right." He sighs. "You can tell me anything."

He's stated that many times before. I hope he means it, because breaking up, even though we never had a formal commitment, isn't going to be easy. "I want you to forget about me."

"What the f.u.c.k, Erin?"

"On Sunday my parents are formally announcing my engagement to Thomas Kingsley."

I hold the phone away from my ear, not missing his chain of expletives. "I'm coming over."

"Please don't." A tear wets my cheek. If I ever see Foster again I don't know what would happen. He destroyed any resistance I had left in my body last night. "I'm happy we spent time together and resolved our differences."

He murmurs something I can't make out. "Is that how you felt when I was licking your p.u.s.s.y last night?"

I deserve his resentment. I'm weak. I prepare for more insults as silent tears stream down my face.

"I expected more from you, Erin. Never knew you were the kind of girl to let someone kick you around like a G.o.dd.a.m.ned sack of s.h.i.t."

Waves of sadness wash over me. I'm too close to confessing everything. I don't want Foster walking around hating me for the rest of his life. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," he roars, "but for entirely different reasons." He disconnects.

Foster Forcing Erin to tell me why she's marrying that douche bag won't accomplish anything. Neither will insulting her, but it's too late. My rage gets the better of me sometimes. I drop my phone on the floor, numb. Then I storm out of my bedroom and open the sliding gla.s.s door in my living room. Wind blows the drapes apart and I step outside in my boxers.

Everything is f.u.c.ked up.

Why? That question keeps surfacing. Thomas Kingsley has nothing to offer a woman. He's a f.u.c.king idiot. Weak. Manipulative. Selfish. Erin is too good for him. I should have strangled him at the country club.

I smash my hands against the balcony railing.

If she needs money . . . But Kevin reported her father's financial situation as stable. And her store is in the clear. Nothing makes sense.

I have a standing appointment in Venice next week, but can't possibly go. Erin Covington is the only woman I've ever loved, the only person I need. I let her go when I was young and stupid. Not this time.

The Halloween party will be our ground zero.

Chapter 22.