Ten Reasons to Stay ((The Risky Hearts Duet) Book 1) Read online

  It was raining out. Had been since I left work. The fat droplets spattered across the sliding glass doors, rivulets streaming toward the ground. I loved when it rained. I had an affinity for it. Could smell it before it dropped from the sky.

  Some of the most important moments in my life were marked by the rain.

  He chuckled. I perked up, wondering if he was going to share whatever had made him laugh, but he never said a word. There was a chill in the air I couldn’t get rid of. A void ripped open between us, stopping me from reaching him.

  But still, I had to try.

  I dumped pasta into boiling water. “So what did you do today?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Jack,” I said a little louder, stirring the pasta around.

  “Hmm?”

  “What did you do today?” I repeated, feeling a weight in my chest. This wasn’t what I’d built up in my mind. He was supposed to be in the kitchen with me, kissing my neck as I swatted him away. Laughing. Playing.

  “Same as usual.” His voice was distant, his focus still on his phone.

  See me. Please. “I missed you.”

  I held my breath, waiting for him to realize I wanted his attention, but that never came. He chuckled again, fingers flying over the screen of his phone. An ugly monster of jealousy reared its head in my mind. Anxiety churned in my gut, making my skin hot.

  Was he talking to someone? Had he met someone? Was he still thinking about being with another woman? Had he… already?

  We’d never discussed terms. It was just there, in the air, lingering like a thick, dark plague.

  Cole and the message I left hanging on my phone swam into my mind. I spent the latter part of the afternoon thinking about the right answer to his question, but nothing I came up with felt right.

  When did we ever know what we wanted? As humans, we were always trying to reach that mountain peak, only to reach it and realize we still wanted more. Hunger was ingrained in us. A survival mechanism. Maybe to keep us from going insane.

  Jack poked his head over the top of the couch. “Shit. My boss wants to meet up for a beer. Do you mind?”

  There was that ugly jealousy thing again, poking at my insides. Scraping a sharp fingernail against the truth I didn’t want to see.

  “No,” I lied, staring at the dinner I’d been preparing. Choking on a burning tongue. Suppressing my vicious words. His boss was an elusive figure… someone I’d yet to meet, not even at the company dinners.

  He’s too rich and important, and I haven’t made it in yet, Jack would tell me.

  “He’s in town?” It was a stretch.

  Jack sat up, reaching for his shoes next to the coffee table. “Yeah. Big deals are on the table. He said he wants to go over some figures for the company we’re looking to close on. It might mean a promotion for me. It shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours.”

  A couple of hours. Hours I’d surely fill with doubt and worry. I shut the stove off before dumping the half-cooked noodles into the strainer in the sink. “Okay.”

  In every relationship, there was the leader and the led. From the beginning, Jack had been the leader. The one with the voice. He made all the big decisions. At first, it bothered me. Like when we rented our first apartment a couple of years after dating. He signed the lease before I even knew. Before I could even decide if it was where I wanted to live. It put me almost an hour from my job, but I didn’t complain because it was Jack, and he was just trying to do the right thing. Or when we’d go out, and it was always to the restaurants he wanted to eat at.

  Over time, the decisions we were supposed to make together slowly became decisions Jack made on his own. My car was chosen for me. Our house. No kids or pets because they were too messy and dependent.

  And now… the state of our marriage.

  Sometimes, I found myself wondering when I became so submissive. When I let my voice die out like the flame of a candle. I wasn’t always like that. I used to joke. To dream. To hope.

  In those moments, I thought of my mother and the sickening pattern I’d carried on. The nights she’d wait up for Dad. The fact she’d never confront him about it, even though I heard her crying late at night.

  I’d become her.

  Jack stopped in front of the island, keys already in his hand. “You sure you’re okay? You seem off.”

  I hadn’t thought you could tell with the way your nose has been wedged in that phone of yours, I thought snidely. My perfect night was shot. Once again.

  “I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a Betty Crocker smile to my lips. Swallowing past the smallest of knots forming in my throat.

  He came around the island. Pressed his nose against my neck as he wrapped his arms around my waist. “You smell good.”

  It was an intimate touch. Warm. Deeply connected. Just like we used to be.

  I closed my eyes, and grabbed onto his arm. My lingering touch, always reaching as he pulled away. I wanted to keep him from leaving. Knowing I’d never really know if he was truly meeting his boss.

  Not without spying.

  “I’ll be back soon. Love you.” He kissed the top of my head, and was gone just as quick as he was there.

  “Love you, too,” I said as the front door shut behind him.

  Don’t do it.

  I went straight to his laptop, something I’d never done, and opened it.

  My heart immediately hit the floor.

  He was that sure of himself, of us, and of me, thinking I wouldn’t go through his stuff. Right there on the screen was an email from someone named Jessica. Stupid… stupid name. My fingers shook against the mouse as I clicked it.

  Dear Jack,

  I had a great time last weekend. You’re funny and sweet, and I like talking to you. I’d love to meet up again.

  This time, maybe I’ll bring cuffs…

  Yours,

  Jessica

  I felt the earth rumbling beneath my feet. Panic flooding my chest as realization took my hand and squeezed. Last weekend…when he was supposed to be at a conference out of town. When I was stuck home, cleaning, wondering when he was going to call.

  Closing the laptop, I waited for the onslaught of emotion—for the tears and the fury to rip apart my insides—but they never came. I wanted to get angry. It was what I should feel, but that phase had come and gone weeks ago, leaving me empty. Tired. Rundown.

  Lost.

  I’d told him he could.

  Why? Why hadn’t I fought?

  Maybe because you want out, too?

  I went upstairs, carrying an expensive bottle of Pinot. Kicked off my shoes, and then searched for the remote. Binging on Outlander and wine sounded like a good idea. Filling the numbness with romance and alcohol. Hell yeah.

  The bottle was nearly gone by the time I shrugged out of my shirt. I was hot, it was clingy, and I just wanted to feel free. When I stood, I nearly tripped over my own feet with a giggle, then unbuttoned my pants and shimmied out of them, too. I stopped when I heard a thud. My phone stuck out from the back pocket of my jeans, tempting me.

  Cole.

  After I picked up the phone, I sat it on the other side of the bed, as far away as I could get it, before snuggling in. I tried to focus on the TV, on Jamie and the way his body glistened. God, those muscles, and that ass. How I’d love to just…

  I stopped.

  What do you want?

  Cole’s words pulsed through my head. Right then… I wanted sex. No. Not just sex. I wanted mind-blowing, leave-me-reeling-for-days kind of sex. I wanted to be wanted in return… not passed off for another woman.

  Jessica, I thought with a sneer, sticking my tongue out at the name. Childish, sure, but I was drunk and lonely and it made me feel slightly better.

  I reached for the phone, and heat immediately spread between my legs.

  I want to be wanted, I typed as two bodies on the screen held each other in trembling passion.

  I waited a few minutes to see if he’d respond, and then felt my hear
t drop a little. Maybe he decided against talking to me. This was definitely a bad idea. I shouldn’t even—

  How do you want it?

  A flicker of fire started in the pit of my stomach. This was wrong. I shouldn’t be encouraging this. What if Jack came back? What if he changed his mind? Even though I told him to do what he wanted, I never said yes to an open marriage, so would this be cheating?

  Screw him. He has Jessica.

  What do you do? I asked, playing it safe.

  Corporate life. You?

  Vague, but then again, maybe he was just as hesitant to give out personal information as I was. Same, I replied, keeping it short and simple.

  What do you look like?

  My stomach tingled at the question. I could be anyone like this. A new version of myself. Someone he’d never meet.

  I’m short, blonde, and have the curves of a Goddess, I lied, staring at the picture of Jack and me at our wedding on the beach. Back then, I was blonde, but I went back to my natural color of brunette nearly five years ago. A decision Jack hadn’t quite agreed with.

  He preferred blondes.

  I bet Jessica was blonde.

  Sounds delicious, Cole replied.

  My heart thumped one hard bang against my chest, another wave of fire scorching through my limbs. Delicious. That one word was exactly that.

  Another message came through. Have you ever gotten yourself off while messaging someone?

  My cheeks went hot as I read, and then reread, his message. This was going too far. We shouldn’t discuss sex. That would be crossing a line.

  But something inside me wanted to cross a line. Maybe because of the Pinot. Maybe because of Jessica… Have you? I replied.

  A gentleman never tells.

  I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling.

  And you think a lady does?

  A second slipped by, and then, Touché. The ball is in your court, Priscilla.

  That wasn’t my name. It jolted me back to reality.

  Is your profile picture really you? I asked, wanting to know more about him. He could lie, but for some reason, I believed he wouldn’t.

  Yes. Is yours?

  That made me smile again. On a whim, I pulled up a recent photo of myself and sent it to him, immediately wishing I hadn’t. What if he was a creeper? This was wrong. I was such an idiot. My brain was such a fucking mess… a dumpster of negativity and doubt.

  The phone pinged. You’re gorgeous. Far prettier than I imagined.

  Thanks, I replied, reaching for the glass of wine. It was empty. Shit.

  But not blonde, he sent a moment later.

  My heart unloaded worry into my veins. No… not blonde.

  His response was instantaneous. Brown suits you better.

  My lips curved again, although I wasn’t sure why. I knew nothing about him. Our exchange was simplistic. But I liked him. Enough to take it a step further.

  My name is really Corinne.

  Hi, not-blonde Corinne. Are you really married, then?

  Not-blonde Corinne. That made me giggle, the nerves slowly melting away. Yes. Everything else I’ve said is true.

  There was a pause before he replied, He’s a fool.

  I reached for the glass again without thinking. Still empty.

  You don’t know me. Maybe I don’t have what it takes to make him happy anymore.

  He disappeared for a second, leaving me alone with my empty glass and the beautiful rolling hills of Scotland on the television screen. What was that commercial? Calgon… take me away? Yes… take me… take me there. Lush green grass. Hot, sexy men.

  Another alert came through. You’re right. I don’t know you. But judging by your hesitation, I sense you’re a good person stuck in a shitty situation. He’s a fool.

  An image of Jack with some perfect Jessica flashed in my head. Cuffed to a bed. Smiling at each other. Touching each other. Was she blonde? Did she have a pleasant giggle? Did he think about me when he was with her?

  My heart writhed. Clawed. Begged for something more to numb it all away.

  I want you to… I backspaced. Chewed on the edge of my nail.

  What do you want? Cole’s question echoed again in my head. This was what we were there for, wasn’t it? Finding someone new. Seeking something different. It could be like picking out a new outfit. I’d try it on and if I didn’t like it, I’d put it back.

  Yeah. Exactly.

  I typed before I could talk myself out of it. I want you. Right now.

  A second turned into a minute, and I wondered if he’d left. I felt like a fool. The ugly side of my pessimism started kicking in. Who’d want me? Jack didn’t. Cole didn—

  Close your eyes. Feel my hand sliding over the swell of your breasts. Your nipples are hard beneath my fingers. I want to lick them, so I do.

  It took me a second. Well, more like a minute of freaking out. Doubting. Questioning myself. Reading it over and over as the liquid heat of desire spread in a slow-burning wave across my body.

  I’d never done this before. Jack wasn’t into phone sex. Nothing kinky or daring or thrilling.

  Except apparently cuffs. I couldn’t forget the cuffs.

  Hands trembling, I slid them over my breasts, running my fingers over my nipples. As I coaxed them into hard peaks, I imagined Cole’s mouth against my skin. He’d feel warm and wet, and I’d be shaking from the inside out with fear and excitement.

  I took my time exploring my body. I’d never really touched myself in that way. Never had a thought to. But this was nice. I liked how soft my skin was, and how good it felt when my fingers smoothed over my nipples. After giving them one last pinch, I picked the phone up.

  Your hands feel good against my skin. Rough. Warm. They make me think of you taking me with a loose hand around my neck as I claw your back.

  Taking?

  Cole wasn’t playing games. He was the real deal. There was no hiding behind this eight inches of screen. He wanted truth. I needed truth.

  I chewed the corner of my lip. Not taking… fucking.

  I was already hot and ready, waiting for his next message to come through.

  I’m hard just looking at you, wanting to feel your mouth around my cock, but I push your hand away when you reach for me. Your pleasure comes first. You’re going to scream my name, again and again, until I’ve said you had enough. Touch yourself. Tell me how wet you are.

  I was too caught up to question myself. To think. My face felt like an oven. My insides, too. I’d dreamed of pleasure like this. Of a man unraveling just by watching me unravel. I slid my hand beneath my panties, dipping one finger inside. So wet, I typed back.

  He was even quicker to respond, his words at the ready. I push your legs apart, as wide as they’ll go, so I can drink in every inch of you. You taste like sweet heat. I lick and suck until your thighs are quivering. You are so close to shattering. I can tell by the way you moan and pull my hair, so I slow down. Slip one, and then two, fingers into your heat. In and out. A slow rhythm. And then a lick. A small suck. In and out again.

  I was there, the images so clear in my mind. The softness of his lips smoothing over me. I could almost feel him between my legs as my hand increased its pace. There was no way I could stop to respond. I didn’t want to. This. Him. It felt good. I was so close. So. Close.

  I tipped over the edge, shattering, combusting into an explosive release. Grinding against my hand, I shouted his name just like he said I would. Slow, thick ripples of aftershock rolled over my skin. I didn’t want to come off the high as my body sank.

  I’d needed that. God, I needed that.

  I was a limp noodle by the time I grabbed my phone.

  I came. Hard.

  Good.

  I felt like mush against the mattress. Bet I could melt right in. Muscles relaxed. A sated smile on my lips. Your turn?

  Not yet. Soon.

  I didn’t hear from him after that, spending the next couple of hours wondering where he’d disappeared to. How soon would soon b
e? I even Googled the definition, just in case there was an approximate estimate, like for the terms ‘a couple’ or ‘a few’.

  Soon.

  Jessica and her cuffs were long forgotten… until I heard Jack downstairs announcing he was home.

  “Honey,” he shouted.

  I quickly dressed, and then tucked my phone in my back pocket. “Coming,” I replied, surprised I didn’t feel any shame. Not a single ounce. Just satisfied. Wholly. Completely. And maybe a little paranoid from not hearing back from Cole.

  “Hey,” he said as soon as he saw me coming down the stairs. “We have a guest.”

  “We do?” I asked. Jack never brought people home.

  I tripped on the last step, heart dropping to my toes, the minute his guest came around the corner. Jack caught me, used to my clumsiness.

  Cole?

  “Corinne, this is my boss, Cole. He wanted to meet you. I got the promotion, honey. He’s going to set us up in a penthouse. Isn’t that great?”

  My head bobbing in a nod, I smiled. At least, I hoped I did as I broke into a cold sweat, every move robotic.

  He was real. In the flesh. And even more handsome than his picture. A tall, muscular build. Dashing, devilish eyes that sparkled with mischief. There was a small moment of panic. What if I was catfished? What if I was talking to someone else and not him? In that moment, I didn’t want it to be true. It had to be him. I needed it to be him.

  And then, he reached for my hand.

  Kissed the back of it.

  Looked up with those dazzling velvet-blues.

  And said, “Soon.”

  Chapter 3

  Cole

  The moment I laid eyes on her, I was in trouble.

  She was light. There was no other way to describe it. Everything in the world lit up with her in it. My soul. The gray I’d been living in. I’d never had that reaction before when it came to women. Never felt the curiosity to know them past the feel of their skin.

  I felt the connection between us the moment I took her hand in mine. The shock on her face mirrored what I felt on the inside. I wanted to break away from the pull of her cinnamon eyes, but something in them kept me riveted.