RidingtheWaves Page 2

  The kitchen glowed with romance and passion. She loved her home. The black and multiple shades of orange she chose for the walls and floor gave it a warm, cozy feeling. It wasn’t too big or too tiny of a house, but was perfect for a small family.

  Tonight they would put an end to the boring, almost nonexistent lovemaking routine they’d fallen into. She’d dance the tango naked if she had to, or pole dance with the family room floor lamp. Aha, Plan B.

  Seven forty-five slipped by, and then eight o’clock without any trace of Jared. Had the weather delayed him too?

  Why hadn’t he called?

  She stood abruptly, pulling on the robe, then dug the cell phone out of her purse and punched in his number. After three rings, her call transferred to voicemail. “Where are you, Jared? Call me.”

  Now she worried. She began pacing the family room, stopping to glance outside through the picture window. The wind wasn’t blowing nearly as badly, but a heavy wall of snow continued to fall.

  Rather than trudge back and forth in a never-ending path, she turned on the television, sat down on the couch, picked up her cell phone and called him again, only to encounter the same recording.

  Where the hell could he be?

  Time ticked by in long, agonizing, nail-biting minutes.

  The thought of calling the highway patrol and local hospitals crossed her mind, but if something happened, someone surely would’ve contacted her by now.

  She picked up her cell and called him once more. It didn’t ring and connected directly to voicemail. Apparently he’d shut off his phone. Why would he do that? To avoid talking to her?

  What the hell?

  From the moment she’d owned a cell phone, her dad impressed upon her to never turn it off, and to make sure she carried it wherever she went. That way she could be tracked if she’d gotten lost. Ever since, if not in her purse, she had it in a pocket or stuffed in a sock.

  Too bad he hadn’t preached that theory to Jared. Were her attempts to fix their relationship like applying a Band-Aid to a gaping wound?

  Rather than lay the cell phone down, she pressed in her mom’s number. Mom was the family rock, blessed with an ability to mend emotional wounds. Her soothing voice alone nurtured a battered soul back to health. Because caring for Grandma physically drained her, Annalee rarely confided in her anymore. She refused to add any additional worries to fuss over, but just listening to her soft tone was comforting enough.

  During the second ring, her mom answered the phone.

  “Hi, Annalee.”

  “Hi, Mom. How’s Grandma?”

  “She’s about the same, dear. How are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You don’t sound it. What’s the matter?”

  How did moms always sense something was wrong? “I’m just really tired. I’ve been working a lot of hours.” Her stomach sputtered in shame for having lied to her mom. Who did that? She never had before, but it was easier than explaining the woes of the past two months.

  Annalee’s parents were in their late sixties. She’d been a surprise—a change-of-life baby who’d caused a huge shock. They considered her a miracle since the doctor diagnosed her mom with a severe case of endometriosis and said she’d never conceive. No way would she let them down by telling lies.

  “How is my handsome, future son-in-law?”

  “He’s great.” Lie number two. For sure, she was going to go to hell. “He’s also been working a lot.”

  “I’ll have a guest list to you next week for the wedding. I’m just so exhausted. It’s hard to find time to do anything.”

  “Don’t rush.” The wedding wasn’t an exciting topic lately. And before proceeding with any further plans, she wanted things right with Jared. “Have you considered increasing the amount of time the home health aides spend with Grandma?”

  “They’re here quite a bit. I’ve even started playing bingo once a week again.”

  “Finally. You should have done that six months ago.” Her mom started playing bingo years before Annalee was born. And as far back as she could remember, every Wednesday night, right after dinner, her mom loaded her bag of ink dabbers into the car and drove off. Annalee wouldn’t see her until the next morning while dressing for school.

  “Your father tried talking me into it, but I didn’t feel I could enjoy myself.”

  “Well, I’m happy for you. Make sure you take time for yourself, Mom, otherwise you’ll burn yourself out, and that’s not good for you or for Grandma.”

  “Oh she just woke up. I’d better go help her to the bathroom before she has an accident. She’s becoming very incontinent.”

  That was another sad decline in her health. “I love you,” Annalee said.

  “I love you too, dear.”

  “Give Daddy and Grandma a kiss for me.” She ended the call and set the phone on the coffee table, noticing the quick conversation released the tension in her shoulders and lower neck.

  She walked into the kitchen, blew out the candles then packed up dinner and placed it in the fridge.

  No sooner had she changed into a pair of flannel pajamas and snuggled in the corner of the couch than Morton climbed onto her lap, pressing his paws into her thighs, feeling for a comfy spot. He only cuddled when he sensed an upset.

  For a long time she petted his back in a comforting manner to soothe them both. Exhausted and confused, she dozed off.

  She woke with a start. Morton lay purring in her lap, the soft vibration massaging her legs. She grabbed her cell and checked the time. “Eleven o’clock.” She’d slept nearly two hours?

  Where’s Jared? She glanced around the room but found not a single sign of his presence. Where in the hell is he? He’d never stayed out all night.

  Her heart pounded so loudly it thumped inside her ears.

  She dumped Morton on a vacant cushion, jumped off the couch and charged into the kitchen. Jared’s keys and wallet lay on the counter and his shoes sat by the door.

  With a deep, heartfelt sigh she sauntered into her bedroom but found it vacant. Just then she heard the faint spray of the shower. She approached the bathroom door and quietly turned the handle, opening it a crack. The relief of seeing him standing inside the stall was so great tears bubbled in her eyes. But they hadn’t even spilled when a familiar powdery scent spiraled to her nose. Hastily but quietly, she closed the door and sneezed into her sleeve.

  That was not Willow’s perfume. Dear God, that was not Willow’s perfume reeking from his rumpled clothes on the floor!

  She wanted to throw up.

  “Take a deep breath,” she mumbled through a gasp of air. “You’re upset. Your mind could be playing tricks.”

  Talking herself down, she carefully reopened the door and…sneezed. Jared jumped and threw open the shower door.

  No way. No fucking way. Her fiancé! Her best friend! The woman she used to ride double with on her bike and share diaries with when they were little girls.

  Is that why he wouldn’t answer his phone? Had he shut it off so it wouldn’t disrupt the sexual tryst with Willow?

  Damn him to hell. And her.

  Annalee stared into his eyes before he quietly closed the shower door. He didn’t accomplish it quickly enough to hide the long, red welts tainting his abdomen in the shape of an X, or the two additional marks stretched across his thighs.

  She didn’t ask. She didn’t have to. And if guilt had a face, she’d found it on Jared before he hid behind the glass door. Hopefully her eyes didn’t express the horror or pain chewing a hole through her stomach. When she’d confront him, she wanted to remain as calm as possible. No accusations. No screaming. No jealous rage.

  She wanted to puke.

  And scream.

  Now she knew why that woman fled the store in such a hurry. She also knew, without a doubt, why she’d purchased the whip.

  How could they? No wonder Willow acted like a bitch earlier. The woman wanted Jared. And she couldn’t have him all to herself with Annalee in the
way.

  She closed the bathroom door, walked into the family room and sat down on the couch. It wasn’t bad enough that one knot after another twisted her guts, but the engagement ring on her finger suddenly felt meaningless and foreign, to the point of suffocation. She twisted and tugged it during the jog into the kitchen before she grabbed the dish soap and doused her finger.

  As sure as her lungs required air to breathe, she was done with Jared. Never again could she kiss his lips or hold his hand, thinking they’d been in contact with Willow’s pussy.

  The visual crawled inside her head like a horror film. Nausea churned in her stomach and her temples throbbed while a lump crept up the back of her throat. Closing her eyes, she swallowed, hung her head over the sink and took a deep breath. No tears. She refused to shed one tear on their behalf.

  After she dried her hands, she laid the ring on top of his wallet. Some screwups were forgivable and worth a second chance, but not cheating. Never cheating.

  “Annalee, what are you doing?” Jared asked, scaring the shit out of her.

  She spun around to see him standing in the kitchen entrance, staring at the ring. “Breaking an engagement.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “It’s over, Jared. We’re through. Done.”

  His gaze darted to her eyes. “Why?” He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “Because I came home late and forgot to call? That’s petty bullshit.”

  “No. Because your clothes stink like Willow’s cheap perfume. Can you explain that? And while you’re at it, explain the whip marks on your stomach and thighs.”

  Meekly he shook his head and his shoulders drooped. “You don’t understand.”

  “Try me.” After a silent, two-minute, heart-wrenching pause, she squeezed her hands into fists. “I’m waiting.”

  “She’s not like you.”

  Jesus, he wasn’t even going to try to deny it. “Of course she’s not like me. If she were, you wouldn’t be fucking her.”

  “You’re a good girl, Annalee.”

  “But not good enough for you?”

  He shifted footing. “I don’t mean it like that. I need more.”

  “What in the hell is the more, Jared? I’ve given you everything I can.”

  “That’s just it. You give what you can, not what I need.”

  “What!” She raked a hand through her hair, balling a fistful at the base of her neck, and glanced at the ceiling. Dear God, she’d never been a violent person, but she needed strength not to punch him in the damn nose.

  Refocusing on his face, she glared into his eyes. “What do you need? Your underwear ironed? Your shoes polished? Be more specific, Jared.”

  He took a step forward. “You know what I’m talking about. I need certain things…sexually.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes as the reality of the situation hung over her head like a bag of concrete. It felt as if someone stomped the life out of her heart. “Our sex life was good until two months ago. Is that when you started fucking Willow?” When he nodded, she took a deep breath and released it slowly. Blood pumped through her jugular and her face burned.

  “Annalee, you are a beautiful, wonderful woman. Part of my desires require physical pain. I could never expect you to inflict—”

  “What!” Physical pain? She’d love to demonstrate a little on him right now. “You neglected to talk to me about this, yet you involved Willow? How in the fuck did you discover she’s into that sort of thing? I didn’t even know it and I’ve been friends with her for fucking forever.”

  His gaze dropped to the floor.

  “Oh I get it. She made the first move, didn’t she?” She needed to calm down before the top of her head blew off. “Answer me.”

  “You’re so innocent in certain aspects. I could never subject you to this type of sex.”

  Was that his way of calling her boring? “Not once have you said, hey Annalee, let’s buy a whip so you can beat my ass. Not once, Jared. Not one fucking time.”

  “Annalee, I love you. The sex with Willow is just that, sex, nothing more.”

  She raised her chin defiantly. The remorse in his eyes was, hell, it was too damn late. “And you want the best of both worlds. Pack your clothes and get the hell out of my house.”

  “You’re taking this out of context. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You should have thought about that before playing piñata for my best friend.”

  Chapter Two

  Annalee sat on a chair in the back of the banquet room, sipping a glass of soda mixed with rum. With each refill, she had unbuttoned another button on her coat. Only one remained fastened, which was directly between her breasts. Eventually she’d shed the coat, but not yet. She wasn’t mentally geared for the exposure.

  During the past two weeks she’d been so distressed about her breakup with Jared, she’d neglected to buy an appropriate costume for Whiltby’s company party. So, here she sat, clad as a belly dancer with rock and roll music playing in the background. She wasn’t the only woman dressed risqué for the event. Surprisingly, three other bellies were exposed by two-piece costumes. The Indian maiden’s breasts poured over the seams of her skimpy top.

  Sean Whiltby Jr., the owner’s son, wore a cheesy smile while he watched the maiden’s boobs sway in sync with her hips, and he buzzed around her like a fly on shit. Men! Always searching for a new cave to warm their cocks.

  No! He was not heading toward her.

  Please, not again.

  She crossed her legs and glanced at the floor. Maybe he’d stumble on by if she pretended not to notice his presence. She’d arrived at eight o’clock and he’d already overindulged in alcohol. His obnoxious behavior was full-blown, but he did what he wanted without any repercussions.

  “Miss Parschen?”

  Damn it. “Yes, Sean?”

  He stopped beside the chair, examining her leg as she began bouncing her foot. “Will you allow me the pleasure of hanging up your coat now?”

  “I’d rather hold onto it. I’m still a little cold.” The headpiece she wore gave away her outfit, and she had no doubt he impatiently waited to examine her costume up close.

  “Then how about another drink? I’m on my way to the bar.”

  “I’ll get one when I’m ready. Thank you.”

  He turned and walked into the crowd. She’d spotted only nine or ten coworkers from her office, escorted by their spouses. The remaining guests traveled from Whiltby’s numerous out-of-state locations. He deemed the costume party the biggest event of the year because it represented their existence within the party supply industry. For seven years, Annalee held the supervisor position in finances. Willow worked in accounts receivable. Ugh, why’d she let that name surface? She didn’t care if she ever saw the woman again. Although, realistically, she’d be forced to endure her presence at least once a month to audit Willow’s reports. Double ugh.

  She rose and, surprisingly, the room tilted. A quick grab for the back of the chair saved her from an embarrassing tumble. She giggled. It’d been a long time since she’d drunk alcohol, but she couldn’t think of a better reason to get shit-faced than having her heart ripped from her chest. Soon, she needed to tell her mom and dad she’d cancelled the wedding, but she hadn’t been able to talk about it yet.

  When she regained control of her equilibrium, she sauntered to the bar and ordered her third refill.

  “Nice party,” someone said at her back.

  She grabbed her glass and spun around. A man dressed as a surgeon in blue scrubs stood three foot to her left holding a beer. A lopsided grin contorted half of his face. When he smiled, his eyes turned into thin slits. “Hi,” she replied. “It’s a very nice party.”

  He became a blur when, from the corner of her eye, she spotted two muscular, mammoth-sized men open the entrance door to the hall and enter the room. They stood above the tallest man present by at least six inches or more. And they looked so much alike…wow.

  Was she seeing double? Ho
w many drinks had she had?

  She backed into a barstool, treating herself to a complete view, and gasped as they greeted one individual after another. A few people stepped forward, offering handshakes or hugs, their body language expressing an acute amount of respect. It was no secret each held those men in high regard.

  Neither male wore a coat despite the outside temperature lingering around twenty degrees. Whoa, their huge bodies must harbor tons of heat. They carried pride on those broad shoulders, and the confidence in their well-paced strides captivated her to such an extreme, every person and artifact in the immediate vicinity faded from her view.

  Holy hell, they even walked alike.

  One had on a white shirt, the other wore a black vest over an unbuttoned, black long-sleeved shirt that hugged his biceps. Some type of gold band or manacle encircled both arms above his elbows. The sleeve cuffs were folded, exposing well-proportioned forearms. And his chest, dear God, it was bare down to the waistline of his black leather pants. She found it nearly impossible to get a clear, below-the-waist view through the abundance of bodies, but she tried. Damn, she tried.

  She gulped and took a sip of the drink. Then off went the last button on her coat. Literally. She tugged it open so quickly the button shot into the air and dropped to the floor.

  And then his gaze met hers.

  Her fingers trembled as she brought the glass to her lips once more. As if on cue, he switched direction and headed toward the bar, leaving the other guy talking amongst a group of people.

  While guests addressed him in passing, he smiled and nodded, but his gaze never wavered from Annalee’s face. The dark shadow of a beard defined his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. Long jet-black hair hung below his shoulders, swaying in rhythm to his stride. The familiarity in those rugged, perfectly chiseled features and gait caught her off guard, causing her knees to weaken and her heart to pound.

  Then a too-familiar wanton ache thumped inside her pussy. She placed her hand on the closest barstool for stability and smiled as he drew near. His exotic scent of musk and spices reached her before he physically did. She inhaled sharply as he stopped only inches away. The hunger in his gaze prickled her skin as it traveled from her eyes, lingering around her bare belly to her red-painted toenails.