Chapter Twenty-two
Ashley
I lay panting on the bed, Daniel next to me, but my bliss is interrupted by the sound of a phone ring tone. His phone. He reaches over the side of the bed for his clothes and retrieves it. I turn to watch him, admiring the sight of his naked back and the ripple of muscles in his broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waistline. Not an ounce of fat on him anywhere. He’s all muscle. Just looking at him, gazing at the flair of his hips and his ass, gets me all hot again. I barely resist the urge to slide my hand between his legs and grope his balls.
“Excuse me,” he says, offering a quick glance over his shoulder. “If I don’t get it, I can guarantee you the phone will ring every five minutes until I do.”
“Go ahead,” I murmur, grinning. My body still thrums with the aftermath of our lovemaking—there, I said it. It wasn’t just sex. That romp in bed just now was a genuine session of lovemaking, and I felt the difference. This sex was leisurely, gentle, and… exquisite. When we were in the playroom I also enjoyed the sex, but that was more like fucking; it was fast and intense and quick, and this was… this was wonderful.
“I’m busy, Mother, what is it?”
I barely hear the sound of a female voice coming from his phone. He startles me when he sits up abruptly, his back stiff. Even before he says a word I can sense the tension emanating from him.
“What? Are you sure?”
The one-sided conversation continues for a moment, and then Daniel speaks again, his voice low and uncertain. “I did. I called her last night and told her. We both know that it’s—yes, I understand, and I know I should have said something sooner, but I—”
I frown as he reaches for his clothes on the floor. I sit up too, holding the sheet to my breasts. Don’t ask me why, because Lord knows, Daniel has seen me naked before. Something is wrong.
“All right, I’ll be there… I’ll get there soon as I can, all right?”
Daniel disconnects the call and sits for several seconds, not moving.
“What is it? What’s happened?”
When he turns around to face me, I feel the invisible punch to the gut. Just a moment ago, his face was flushed with exertion, his pupils dilated, his breathing raspy, his grin oh-so-sexy. It was some of the best sex I’ve ever had, and I hoped he felt the same way—
“It’s Karen.”
It takes a second for my brain to switch gears. “Karen?” Who is Karen? And then I remember. “Your fiancée… I mean, your ex-fiancée?”
He nods, standing to pull on his boxers. He doesn’t look at me. I resist the urge to stare at his now limp dick, knowing that nothing will come of it. He’s leaving.
“My mom called to tell me that she’s in the hospital.”
“Oh my God... what happened?”
“My mom says that she—Karen—called her a while ago, after I broke off the engagement. Karen sounded distraught, but she managed to get her calmed down. Just now, though, she learned that Karen had been admitted to the hospital.”
“What happened?” I ask again, my voice faint and shaky. Oh my God, I hope the woman will be all right. When Daniel speaks, I barely recognize his voice.
“She tried to kill herself.”
I stare at him, disbelieving. I scramble out of bed, looking for my clothes. “What can I do?”
He shoves his legs into his trousers, slips on his shoes, and then pushes his arms through the sleeves of his dress shirt. His hands shake slightly as he tries to button it. I start to move, to help him, and then freeze, especially when he looks up at me, his expression filled with what I can only construe as guilt. He gives me a look that doesn’t need explaining. He mutters softly to himself, tugging at his collar even though it’s perfect. He stares down at his feet for a moment, then finally looks up at me.
That look washes all doubt away and triggers a feeling of intense disappointment. I know what he’s going to say before he says anything. He stands on one side of the bed, me on the other as he speaks.
“I have to go… you understand that, right?”
I don’t answer, and he doesn’t give me an opportunity. He continues, speaking quickly, as if he has to get it out all at once. “It’s not really Karen’s fault that my mom pressured the both of us to get engaged. The engagement was intended to provide benefits for both our families…”
Even before he finishes speaking, I know where this is going. I almost say no backsies, but I keep my mouth shut. I’m not going to beg. I’m not going to be weak.
“I have to go to the hospital to make sure she’s okay. And I have to make things right. I’m sorry, Ashley, but I have to do the right thing here. I have to do the responsible thing.”
I stand frozen, my body still tingling from the sensations those hands of his had invoked deep inside me. I stand naked, grasping the sheet to my body as he turns to leave the room.
He doesn’t look back.
I hear the front door open and close, but I still stand there, staring down at the bed, the rumpled sheets, the smell of sex still permeating the room. My brain feels numb. Damn it! I sink down onto the bed, staring out the window, wondering how in the hell I had managed to do this to myself twice.
I got my hopes up, despite my own internal instincts and warnings not to. When he showed up at my door less than two hours ago, my heart leapt with excitement, and even more so when he told me he broke off the engagement. His words gave me hope that not only our ‘downstairs’ relationship wasn’t over; but actually, it was just going to get better. It was validation, for me at least, that he did feel something for me, something that went beyond “playtime” and my foray into the world of bondage.
Why did I even feel that way? Why? When I first learned that he had a fiancée, I made the decision to give him up. I didn’t want that kind of a relationship. I dealt with it, or was beginning to anyway. I made a logical decision to just let it go. You win some, you lose some. But when he showed up at my door… no, that was different. I’m only fooling myself.
Not that he said that he had chose me, no. All he implied was that he had not chosen Karen. I still don’t expect any promises from Daniel, at least I don’t think so, but now, sitting here on my bed, in my room, naked, I find myself growing annoyed. And to be honest, I’m more upset than I was in his office when I first learned of his fiancée because I had—obviously subconsciously—let myself hope. Let myself hope that by his coming here, it might have meant something.
“You’re a stupid idiot.”
I sigh. I’m bummed. No, I’m depressed. Such an emotional roller coaster. Who the hell needs it? I’m not heartbroken, and I’m not going to be. I don’t need any man in my life to validate who I am or what I want to be. I don’t need Daniel, and I don’t need Stewart. Let him have Karen. I don’t wish ill on either one of them, and I certainly hope that Karen will be all right, but who needs that kind of drama?
I got my hopes up twice. What’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me? I stand, drop the sheet, and head for the shower. I’m stronger than that. Will I make the same mistake again? Maybe. I don’t know. But I know one thing. If Daniel wants to let guilt rule his life, there is nothing I can do about it. I’m not going to be a part of it.
Standing in the shower with the water pouring over me, I feel slightly rejuvenated. I don’t cry. Maybe that will come later, I’m not sure. Right now, I tell myself that what I have to do is focus on my own goals, which means getting my book finished and published with or without Daniel’s help. And then, someday, I’ll find the right man, and then, just maybe, I just might consider settling down.