24 1/2 Kisses (A Bashir Family Romance) (7 page)

I wanted to ask him why he led me to believe he was cheating on me when he wasn’t. I wanted to ask him why he let our love die. And why he so callously broke my heart. I wanted to ask him why he never told me about Gerald Franklin or the extreme stress he must have been under.

But the question I really wanted to ask more than anything was too much for me to say out loud.

Do you still love me?

Instead, I did what I came there to do. I did my job.

“Is the rumor that Gerald Franklin is your biological father true?”

I saw the pain in his eyes when he realized that I was asking as a reporter and not as Scarlett—
his Scarlett
. I instantly regretted my question.

He lowered his voice and leaned in closely to me.

“Is that what you really want to know, Scarlett?”

It wasn’t. I already knew the answer after meeting Gerald; he was indeed Dev’s father. But I came here to finish a
job
.

Didn’t I?

“Yes, it is,” I lied.

His eyes narrowed in disappointment and I wanted to run away.

“The rumor is true. Gerald Franklin is my father.”

I came back to my senses. What was I doing?

“You know this is on record, Dev, and it will be printed?”

“Yes, and now you have the story of the year. Congratulations.”

He turned to leave, but I grabbed his arm. The words tumbled out my mouth fast and reckless.

“Every night I pray that your face will fade away from my dreams…because you still haunt them. And when I got this job and I knew I had to move to New York—
your city
—I prayed even harder that I would never run into you. And then I get this story assignment, Dev. Can you please understand what hell this has been? And I still don’t understand what…your angle is.”

His eyes were cold.

“My
angle
? Who do you think I am, Scarlett?”

“That’s a good question, because I don’t know…and the more time I spend with you, the more confused I am.”

My words seemed to cut him and he suddenly looked lost. I so badly wanted to help him find his way home, but I didn’t know how.

I saw Eric approach us from behind Dev. He looked concerned and I realized how puzzling our intense interaction might seem.

I let go of Dev’s arm.

“Scarlett, you okay?”

Eric gave Dev a warning glance, the testosterone palpable between them.

“I’m ready to go,” I answered quietly.

“You sure you’re finished here?”

I looked at Dev. We were a mountain of unfinished business, but I didn’t know where to start.

“We’re finished,” I answered, looking straight into his dark eyes, wanting so desperately for him to correct me and say we weren’t, and ask me not to go, and tell me that he wanted to explain everything to me finally.

More than anything, I wanted him to tell me that he still loved me. 

But he said nothing and walked away.

On our way out, Eric gave me a strange look.

“Why didn’t you tell me there was something between you and Bashir?”

I was stupid to think I could hide it for so long. I liked Eric and I didn’t want to hurt my chances with him. He was the best opportunity I had to get over Dev, and now that the interview was done, maybe that could happen.

Unless I had just ruined that, too.

“I used to know him, but I don’t anymore.” I grabbed Eric’s hand. “I’d rather get to know you better.”

I almost believed myself for a moment.

Eric smiled at me and squeezed my hand a little tighter. I wished he would squeeze it until it hurt…until it broke. I had been numb for too long and I wondered what it would take to feel again.

When we arrived at the company car
Time
provided for our return, he did something quite unexpected. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. When he pulled his mouth away, he searched my eyes for my response.

“I don’t think I have to tell you how much I like you, Scarlett.” He kissed me again, softly on the lips. “I want to get to know you better too.”

Before I could respond, I was distracted by a shadowy figure standing at the front door of the mansion watching us. Dev quickly turned around and walked into the house.

If there was anything left between us, I had probably just killed it.

T
he next morning at the office, Bill and Linda wanted a full briefing.

“Did he tell you?” Bill asked, almost chomping at the bit.

“No. Sorry. I asked him but he refused to say.”

I had decided to lie. I wasn’t going to humiliate Dev’s family like this. He obviously wasn’t thinking in his right mind when he told me Gerald Franklin was his father.

“What an ass,” Linda chimed in. “So he was just screwing with you again, huh?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

Bill became immediately disinterested and started digging through some papers on his desk, obviously thinking of the next big story.

“You have enough material for a satisfactory article, so get to work,” he said, ending the meeting.

I worked all day and got a first draft on Bill’s desk just after eleven that night. I took a deep breath as I walked away—and I could almost feel Dev slip away from me. Then it hit me like a Mack truck: There would be no more reasons to see him after this.

My cell beeped with a text and I half-hoped it was Ashley, Dev’s assistant, asking me to meet him in some odd place to finish the interview.

It was from Eric.

Dinner with me tomorrow night?

He’s nice, Scarlett. Go out with him…

I typed into my phone as the elevator descended.

You’re exactly what I need right now, Eric. Yes.

There has been no one else since Dev. Maybe that was my problem. I resolved that night I would just get it over with.

I would sleep with Eric.

The next evening I made myself a cup of tea and searched my closet for the perfect dress, one that would make me irresistible to Eric.

And then I found it.

The red dress.

I hadn’t worn it since Annika picked it out and practically forced it on me; it was a dangerous dress on my ample hourglass curves. I held it up to my body in the mirror and imagined what he might think when he saw me in it. I definitely looked like a woman on the prowl…
for sex
.

That’s what you want, right?

I fished out the matching red bra and lace panties. If this wouldn’t get him into bed, then nothing would.

It had been so long since I felt a man’s body next to mine, but I wondered if it would be as good as it was with Dev. Could anyone make me feel the way he did? I had to at least give Eric a chance.

I pulled the tight dress over my head and smoothed it out to its length which was four inches above my knees. The back was open and haltered around my neck leaving not much to the imagination. I glanced at the time—Eric was going to pick me up in ten minutes. I rushed to get my red lipstick on and spray a little perfume in all the appropriate places.

When I opened the door to him I knew I had picked the right dress for the job.

“I’m speechless. You look incredible.”

He was dressed in a sports jacket and clutched a bunch of red roses in his hand which he held out like an offering to the goddess of love, mouth slightly agape.

“Thank you, Eric. They’re pretty. Would you like to come in?” I purred.

“I think I would.” He stepped in, his eyes never leaving my red dress.

“I’ll put these in water. Please have a seat.” I gave him my most seductive smile and then brought the roses into the kitchen. In a moment, he was there leaning casually against the entryway and watching me carefully.

“I don’t think I adequately expressed how completely breathtaking you look. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop myself from staring tonight.”

As I arranged the flowers in a vase, I met his sparkly blue eyes and said seductively.

“We don’t have to go out.”

I was determined to make this happen.

The sooner you sleep with Eric, the sooner Dev will be but a distant memory.

Eric read my cue and moved in closer. He put his hands around my waist and pulled me to him. He smelled like pine and clean soap…and the outdoors. He kissed me slowly before responding to my suggestion.

“If the lady wants to stay in, then we’ll stay in. Aren’t you hungry though?”

“Yes. But not for food per se.”

I returned his kiss and willed myself to melt into the moment.

It was decided.

He pulled me with him to the couch, his kisses steadily increasing in passion and frequency, his hands moving with purpose over my body.

We found the couch and he sat me down and leaned into me, his body now in control. When he kissed me deeply, exploring my mouth with his tongue, I started to feel something…that familiar warmth radiate through my body. And if I closed my eyes, I could almost believe he was…

Stop it, Scarlett. Be with Eric. Forget Dev.

I opened my eyes and watched as he kissed down my neck. Better to get this over with or be haunted by Dev forever.

“Eric, make love to me.”

He looked up suddenly and met my eyes assessing my sincerity, and then he grinned like a hungry bear offered a gallon of ripe berries.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

Before it could go any further, my cell phone rang. I wasn’t going to answer it but I could see from the coffee table it was Bill, my boss.

“Sorry, Eric. It’s Bill.”

Eric reluctantly released me from his weight. He took off his sport coat and settled into the couch while I picked up the phone.

“Hi Bill.”

“Well, looks like you were right all along, Scarlett.”

“About?”

“Bashir’s lawyers just killed the story.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Legal recommends we don’t publish. They’re threatening a lawsuit. I guess that guy was just jerking you around like you said he was. He never intended to give you a story.”

I stood up from the couch, my face burning hot. All the time I spent being humiliated and tortured in his presence…and he knew all along he was going to stop the story from running.

“Tell you what, you can do that orphanage story. See you on Monday.”

After he hung up, I found I couldn’t breathe I was so angry.

“Is everything okay, Scarlett?” Eric asked.

“My story’s dead.”

“Ouch, that’s a tough break.”

He stood up behind me and started to massage my shoulders. It was a decent effort to bring me back into the moment, but it wasn’t enough. I was about to explode from rage.

I turned around, his hands falling away from my shoulders.

“I need to go somewhere right now.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Now? Okay, I’ll take you then.”

“No, Eric. I need to go alone.” I felt bad for turning up the heat so much and then failing to make good on my carefully executed seduction. But it had to be done.

He gave me a reluctant smile and put his jacket back on. When he got to the door he turned around to say one last thing.

“Tell Dev Bashir hello from me.”

Then he left.

After a few minutes, I gathered my senses and grabbed my purse.

It was time to confront Dev once and for all.

D
ev looked understandably surprised when he opened the door dressed in a silky black robe, his hair still wet from the shower. His ebony eyes raked ruthlessly over my tight red dress.

“Scarlett…”

I didn’t have time for pleasantries. I lunged at him.

“Were you just playing with me the whole time… making me pay some debt you think I owe you? How could you be so cruel?”

He backed away from the door, his gaze unwavering and I stepped inside his shadowy apartment, continuing my verbal assault.

“You’re a—a
controlling monster!
”

“Well, I can call names too,” he said coolly.

“You’re weak,” he seethed. “A weak, pathetic liar.”

His words made me snap and I slapped him hard on the cheek feeling my hand sting from the assault. Oddly, I felt something else—something come to life inside of me.

What’s happening to me?

His eyes were dark and sinister as he closed in on me, undeterred by the slap. I took a step back, a shiver traveling down my spine.

Suddenly possessed, he grabbed my arms and pushed me hard against the wall—so hard the silver and black painting crashed to the floor, the glass broken in shards.

“You’re hurting me,” I uttered, my heart pounding through my chest. What was he doing?

He didn’t let go.

“I saw him kiss you,” he whispered intensely. He had the desperate face of a man who hadn’t eaten in a month. “It’s my turn.”

He attacked my lips with a hard, hungry kiss.

I loved it. I wanted it.

No, I’m not supposed to
...

He’s hurting me…

I bit into his lower lip full-force feeling my teeth sink into his soft flesh, and he jerked back, releasing his tight grip from my tender arms.

My eyes widen when I saw he was
bleeding
.

Refusing to avert his menacing gaze for a second, he casually wiped the blood off of his mouth with the back of his hand, as if it were a light scratch.

“Hit me again, Scarlett,” he dared.

I did.

It was so hard I thought I broke my hand, but something else broke instead—
something from deep inside of me
. Out of nowhere, I could feel tears brimming in my eyes as emotions I had locked away for years rushed to the surface.

He rubbed his cheek as if the sting were a soft kiss from his beloved.

“I never lied to you,” I said, defensively, hot tears flooding my eyes and burning trails down my face.

Did I?

He smirked at me, his right hand grazing the neckline of my red dress. He slowly moved his finger across from one side to the other, his eyes studying the rise and fall of my breasts.

“You promised you wouldn’t give up on me.” He sounded wounded, betrayed, and weak, and his accusation penetrated my core.

Did I…give up on you?

“I loved you,” I whispered.
And you forgot about me.

I grabbed his wrist and struggled to push his arm away from my dress, but,
weak no more
, he pulled back on his own, taking a handful of material with him, the flimsy dress tearing open in front—my red lace bra on full display.

I slapped him again, and he seemed to get a rush from it—even more than the last time.

“Is that the best you got, Scarlett? You haven’t improved much since the night you hit me with my baseball bat.”

He leaned into me again, his body forcefully pinning mine against the wall. Feeling the heat of his chest against my naked skin changed something inside me.

I wanted him.

I needed him in that twisted moment with all the pain and pleasure that would come with it.

Sharing in his possession, I kissed him hard on his lower lip, tasting his salty blood, and knowing full-well how sore it would be for him—
but he moaned in approval.

In turn, he grabbed my wrists and slammed them tightly against the wall behind my head. I could feel the blood cut off to my hands.

“Does that hurt, my love?”

“Yes,” I whimpered.

“Good.”

He kissed my neck, sucking hard—
too hard
—the painful gratification making me moan.

“I hate you.” My voice came out in strangled sobs.

“I know.”

Then, as if changing his mind, he slowly released me.

I realized it was a test, to see if I would leave. He took a step back and watched me, his eyes daring me to stay.

“Run away if you want to, Scarlett.”

I wiped the tears away from my face. I was done being weak.

I stayed put.
No running this time.

I was a willing participant in this manic darkness—this dangerous passion. I couldn’t leave him—
my body wouldn’t allow it.
It was on fire, awake for the first time in years.

I grabbed the tie around his robe and jerked it open; then I pushed the dark silk off of his shoulders. It fell into a pile at his feet, next to the broken glass. He was naked before me and I had to catch my breath in my overwhelming desire for him.

It was all the consent he needed. He pulled the remains of the red dress off of me and then took a moment to take me in, his eyes tracing the outline of my soft form. He knew this body well—his old playground. He knew every curve, every hollow…every secret.

He knelt down in front of me, running his hands down my body, and bit the inside of my thigh with his teeth…lightly at first and then harder, as if he wanted to literally take a bite. I sighed deeply—
this pain was making me alive again.

Just when I thought it was too much, his mouth released me. His hand grabbed my red lace panties and impatiently tugged them off.

There was nothing between us now.

I wanted him to taste me there…and he teased me, biting and kissing up the inside of my thigh making me believe he would.

“Twenty-four,” he breathed into my skin, just as he landed at the upper portion of my thigh, the place where I knew his skillful touch would send me over the edge. I bit my lower lip and held my breath in sweet, torturous anticipation.

And then he cruelly stopped; his dark eyes glared at me from below and a wicked smile spread across his face.

Punishment—punishment indeed.

He stood up quickly abandoning his previous effort, and then lifted me up against the wall deciding he was going to take his pleasure first. In breathless submission to his demand, I wrapped my legs around his hips. He found me and impaled me deeply with a skillful thrust causing me to throw my head back in agonizing bliss.

Every cell in my body screamed in unison,
“Yes, yes, yes.”

I grabbed him by his hair and pulled him to my lips. We kissed each other fiercely as he moved his hips into me—so forcefully I thought I would split in two.

I panted his name and ran my red nails down his back, scratching him hard, and feeling the skin tear slightly. He let out a strangled moan in reply and pushed deeper into me—his sweet revenge.

“Does it hurt, Scarlett?” he breathed, hot in my ear.

“Yes,” I gasped.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Good.”

He slid his hand down my stomach, between us, and touched me where he knew I was burning for him.

If I had been standing at the edge of the cliff before, I was now plummeting in a reckless free-fall of sensations.

I bit my lip, trying to stifle a scream as the intense waves of pleasure hit me. Sensing my ecstasy, he responded in kind, rutting up against me, pinning me harder against the cold wall, gasping in the erotic, heady possession.

If I had been sick before, then this fever, this hot, painful dance seemed to be my cure. I was alive for him and I didn’t care about anything else but being with him in that moment. The article be damned. The mountains of misunderstandings and selfish pride between us be damned. This was the man I wanted. This was the man
I needed
.

As soon as it was over and we both began to breathe again, I nearly collapsed in exhaustion. I closed my eyes feeling mentally and physically weak, my senses depleted.

And then, like that time in the cemetery so long ago—when I fainted in the rain next to my father’s grave—I felt his strong arms envelope me and carry me across the shards of glass to the safety of his bed.

I lay in his bed, my body bruised and stinging—yet deliciously satisfied— and faced him, his long muscled form stretched out across from me under the gray sheet. His dark eyes were full of mysterious thoughts I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

He reached over and lightly brushed his finger over my arm where it was red and swollen from his grasp. I realized in that moment that he wasn’t the man I once knew. I had tried to find him, but he was changed into someone I didn’t recognize—changed by the world, by power and money, by a divided devotion to two families and two polarizing cultures.

And he was alone through all of it.

I didn’t realize I had said the words out loud until they had fallen out of my mouth.

“Who…are you?”

There was an unsettling fear in his eyes and his voice was barely above a whisper when he answered.

“I don’t know.”