Beloved Page 10


“Oh, we have a thing, do we?” I ask with a smile.

“Are you asking about my thing?”

I gasp, immediately feeling my face flame red. “What? No! I never said anything about your thing.”

He laughs out loud, full-on belly laughing at me. After he recovers, his voice drops as he says, “So you do want to see my thing.” He winks and leans in close to me. So close I can smell the mint on his breath. “I wouldn’t mind.”

I take another step toward my car, flustered by him and my incapability to handle him. “Again I revisit the list—definitely a pain in the ass.”

“You just have to ask.”

My pulse is so loud I’m sure he can hear it. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not asking,” I manage to reply. I wonder if I sound as frazzled as I feel.

Jackson takes a step closer to me, stalking me like I’m his prey, and I counter with another step back. Once my back hits the car door … that’s it. He has me pinned and we both know it. He raises his arms, placing them on the frame and caging me in.

His lips brush against my ear when he whispers, “Oh, but your body says otherwise.” His body closes in on mine and the last remaining space between us disappears. Heat floods my core, my face, my body—my lids flutter closed and I take a shaky breath. “Open your eyes, Catherine.”

I submit to his command, watching how his pupils dilate as his eyes seem to go from solid to liquid. Colors blend together in a sea of blue and green lust. He leans forward, removing one of his arms from the car and placing it on my arm. Slowly his fingers trail my bare skin. The current flowing between us is even more powerful than before. While my common sense dies a slow death, every other part of me is alive under his touch. My body and mind are at war with each other, both trying to gain the upper hand—right now my body is winning.

He licks his lips slowly, torturously, until I’m unable to take another second of this suffering. I snap, grabbing his shirt and yanking him toward me. My lips meet his with a passion that borders on hostile. He pushes us backward, pressing me against the car. The cold metal bites through my shirt, but I don’t care. I can barely feel it. His tongue licks the seam of my lips, and when I grant him access, he plunges it in. With every swipe of his tongue against mine, he’s igniting the lust I was smothering.

I’m losing myself in his incredibly skilled mouth, feeling lighter, as though I’m floating away. The only thing tying me to this earth is Jackson. He’s taken over every part of me. All that exists are his hands and his lips and him, but I want more. I kiss him deeper and harder as he moans against me. Releasing his shirt, I run my hands down across his chest and then lower over his abs, taking in every dent and ridge. His arms pull me tighter, securing me against the front of him. I gasp at his excitement pressed against my stomach, and his mouth moves to my ear.

“Next stop Hoboken Station.”

“What?” I ask breathlessly as his nips at my earlobe.

“Now arriving at Hoboken Station.”

My eyes flutter open, expecting to see Jackson’s sexy face, but … no. I’m on the train.

Holy shit! I was dreaming. It was so real. My palms are sweating and my pulse is racing, and if I’m being honest, I’m panting a little. But none of it happened. Oh, how I wish it had.

I gather my belongings, grab my keys out of my purse, and head out to my car. That drink is looking better and better.

Chapter Five

The drive back to my apartment is short thanks to the lack of traffic at this time of day. It’s odd being home so early. I have about an hour until Ashton is due home, which gives me enough time to change and check my emails. Throwing my hair into a messy bun, I opt for my leggings, a gray tunic, and my mint-green lace leg warmers—cute and sassy, as Ashton would say. I can’t wait to unload all the stuff going on in my messed-up brain—nothing seems to make sense.

I step out into the living room and stop dead in my tracks. This place is a mess! Papers are everywhere, mail’s lying around, dirty dishes sit on the table, and clothes are strewn over the back of the couch. Between both our schedules, the house is rarely spotless, but we’ve never let things get this bad. I decide to skip the emails and pick up a little. We pay way too much money for this place to allow it be this out of control. Ashton and I looked for an apartment in Manhattan. We had always wanted to be like the girls on television, but once we saw the going rate for apartments and sublets we opted for New Jersey. Our high-rise is on the river, overlooking the city, so our rent is high, but it’s worth it. We both make a good salary, so we decided to live comfortably and have an apartment with security.

Me: Hey. Gonna start dinner.

Ashton: K. I’ll be leaving the city soon.

I look through the kitchen and realize we’re out of pretty much anything edible. I can either head to the store or order in. The sensible choice would be to go to the store, but after the day I’ve had, I decide to say screw it.

There’s a knock at the door. Weird. The doorman usually calls if we have visitors.

“Open up, Cat,” a bubbly voice says. Gretchen.

With a huge grin, I throw the door open.

“What are you doing on this side of the river?” I ask.

“I had a case here in Jersey, so I figured I’d see if my two crazy-ass friends were around. And lucky me, I get you!” She grins as she walks through the apartment.

“At least it’s lucky for one of us,” I snort.

“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be here. What gives?” she says, assessing my outfit and facial expressions.

“I had my meeting today for that prospective new client. I finished early. Figured I’d work from home.” I shrug, attempting nonchalance.

Gretchen glares, giving me her lawyer look. The one that sees through you as she weighs each word you say and interprets your tone. She does that and then she chews you up. I should’ve remembered who I’m dealing with. Even fielding questions from crazy reporters hasn’t properly prepared me for her.

“So why do you look like shit? Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on, Cat? Considering I don’t believe you for a second.” Her voice is stern but sympathetic. She knows the nightmare I went through. I knew it would only be a matter of time until she started pushing me to talk.

We head into the kitchen and sit at the table. I look down, trying to find a way to put into words what’s jumbled in my head, as my fingers trace the grain of the wood. “I’m a mess, Gretch. It’s been three months since Neil cheated on me, and sometimes it feels like it happened yesterday. Sometimes it hurts so much it’s hard to breathe, but I have to pretend I’m great.

“Then today I had to present against him at the client meeting I told you about. Not only was Piper there …” I trail off, looking up to see her reaction.

“What? Oh wow,” she says, stunned, before recovering. “You’ve had quite a day, babe.”

“You could say that. And then I find out he stole my presentation.” My head falls to my hands and I release the flood of emotions I’ve been restraining. “This is the man I was supposed to marry?” I drop my hands, letting out a ragged breath. My voice trembles when I ask, “How can I still love him, Gretch?”

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