When the song ends, we sit there for a while, savoring the silence. We both have so much to say—how can we not?—but no one’s ready to take that step.
After several minutes, I suck in a breath, I tell him what I should have told him a long time ago. What I should have said the very first night we met. “I can’t do this, Ransom.”
He smiles but his eyes stay fixed on the keys. “We’re not doing anything right now.”
“You know what I mean. I can’t . . . be with you anymore. And I can’t represent you. I’m sorry. It’s highly unethical of me, and it could damage both our reputations. Not to mention, I’m married and I love my husband. I need to do this for all of us. And you and I having any type of interaction just isn’t healthy.”
“Healthy,” he snorts. “How do you know what’s healthy for me, huh? Maybe it’s you that I need to make me better.”
I turn to him and frown. “No, Ransom. I’m not. This isn’t right. We’re hurting him when we both know he doesn’t deserve it.”
“What do you know about what he deserves?” he sneers, his voice suddenly icy cold. “He had it all, yet he wanted more. What makes you think he’s hurting? What about me? What about my pain?”
I start to reach out to comfort him, his vulnerability catching me off guard, but I stop myself before I make contact, hoping to soothe him with my words instead. “I’m sorry we dragged you into all this. I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I didn’t mean to . . . to . . .”
“To fall in love with me?” He looks at me then, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy.
“I never said that, Ransom.”
“But you are in love with me, aren’t you?”
I shake my head. “I love my husband. I want to make things work with him.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Ransom . . .” I stand up then, realizing what a mistake it was to try to talk to him. “Tucker is a good man, and a good husband. I need to be with him.”
In a flash of red rage, Ransom pounds against the keys, creating a disjointed song of fury and pain. “Fuck him! What kind of husband has another man fuck his wife? Huh? What kind of man would manipulate someone’s weakness for his own agenda?” he yells, spewing contempt from his lips.
Startled, I take a step back, putting myself at a safe distance just in case he decides to lunge at me. Hours ago, I relished his violence. Now, it terrifies me in all the wrong ways.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I try to say in a level voice.
“He’s not what you think he is, Heidi. He’s not as good as you think he is.”
“Shut up, Ransom. Don’t you dare act like you know the first thing about my husband and my marriage,” I retort. “You’re a kid. You have no clue what marriage entails. It’s not easy; it’s hard work. But when two people love each other, they do whatever it takes.”
“Right. Sure,” he snorts. “So I guess that’s what you were doing with me this morning. Putting in some of that hard work. Tell me, was it easy to take my dick deep inside your tight, little ass? Or was that just you, doing whatever it takes? Because, baby, you sure can take a lot.”
I’m trembling with rage, completely shocked and appalled that he would say that to me. What was I thinking? Was I really even considering being with Ransom—this punk kid? How could I be so stupid?
“Fuck you,” I spew. “And pack your shit. You’re on the next flight back to Manhattan.”
“No can do, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear? We’ve got a date—you, me, and the good doctor. Unless you’d like me to explain your sudden change of heart. Or maybe he’ll be able to see the evidence for himself. I don’t know if my scratches will heal by tomorrow night. Maybe I should go explain to him how his wife likes to draw blood.”
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you go near him, Ransom, or I swear—”
He’s in my face, just inches from my kiss-swollen lips that he’d ravaged just hours ago. “Or what? What are you afraid of Heidi? That he might see it—the truth between you and me? You think he’s fucking blind? Newsflash, baby. I’m all over you—permanently embedded in every inch of your skin. I’m inside you, H . . . even when it’s him you’re fucking. I’m fucking you too . . . always. And you know that. You know that every time you come, it’s me that’s making your legs quiver. It’s me you’re screaming for. It’s my back you’re scratching when you want it deeper. Mine. Shit, you can feel me right now, can’t you, baby?”
“Shut. Up. Ransom!”
“Stop lying to yourself. Stop lying to me. This is us, baby. We’re both fucked up in ways that he’ll never be able to understand. We’re the same, baby. And only I know what you want . . . what you need. You know that, don’t you? You felt it, just like I did. And you’re still feeling it right fucking now.”
Flustered and furiously aroused, I turn around and stalk out with a huff, the echo of his laughter chasing me from the room. Ransom Reed is the biggest mistake of my life. And it’s time to right my wrongs once and for all.
Chapter Twenty-eight
I thought I could do it—I thought I could finally put my own selfish, narcissistic needs aside for the sake of my husband . . . my marriage. But I’m a coward. A coward that was too afraid of not only losing him, but, dammit, losing Ransom too. Because I do feel for him, I do want him, but I want my marriage more. I may want Ransom, but I need Tucker. He’s my husband, my life. So despite what he says, Ransom is nothing more than a passing phase. That’s all he can be to me.
So here I am—in Justice’s playground. Ready to give it all one last kiss goodbye. I could have told Tucker that I’d had a change of heart and wanted no one else but him. But my insatiable hunger for more—for Ransom—is stronger than the desires of my heart. Or maybe they’re not. Maybe they’re more aligned than I’ve allowed myself to admit.
“Don’t be afraid,” Tucker whispers in my ear, before leaving a trail of soft kisses along my collarbone. I am afraid, but not for the reasons he believes.
We’re on one of the round beds—the ones designed for a crowd. There are fewer people here tonight, however, Justice is present. He watches us intently, those molten blue eyes unblinking. Yet, I don’t find his presence unnerving. If I’m being honest with myself, having him here—watching, studying . . . potentially wanting—only makes me want this more. He’s a powerful man, with a body fit for every woman’s erotic fantasy, and a presence that makes him seem ten feet tall. And in our world, there is no greater aphrodisiac than power.
The lights are dim enough in the room that I can’t really see the other couples around us. I can hear their moans and mewls, but they’re barely visible unless I concentrate. I imagine it’s just us here in this room—just my husband and me. We’re in our bed back at home. We’ve just polished off a bottle of Cab and are feeling free and frisky after a long week. I close my eyes and focus on the feel of his lips moving down my chest and the soft scratch of his 5 o’clock shadow on my delicate skin. He loosens the tie of the terry cloth robe and lets it fall open, allowing cool air to entice my already pebbled nipples.
“Do you want this, Bunny?” he asks before sucking one into his mouth, not even bothering to wait for an answer. I try to speak through a moan but it comes out as an unintelligible mewl. A chuckle rumbles from the back of his throat, causing his teeth to nip my puckered skin. “What was that? You’ll have to tell me, baby. I need to hear you say you want me.”