Truly Mine Page 15

  “Mind your business, Tyler.” She enters her office and slams the door in my face.

  I open the door, and it crashes against the wall. “You don’t get to do this anymore, Dara. Dad isn’t here to protect you. Dad will not be back here, so you’d better learn how to treat people. You don’t run the show anymore. We are equal partners once Mom signs the paperwork. This firm will belong to all of us. Whether or not you approve of how Kail and I live our lives does not matter.”

  Dara is so used to our father allowing her to behave like this that she has no boundaries. They are two peas in a pod. In your face and abrasive are the nicest things I can say about either one of them.

  Her verbal abuse turns up a notch. “You’re about as useless as she is anymore. Why are you even here right now? What the fuck do you even do around here? You couldn’t make it as a lawyer, and that’s the only reason Kail’s a partner in this firm.” Dara turns away from me and points at the door where Kailin stands, watching us. “And to make it worse, Tyler, she’s taking after you. She can’t keep up with Eden and me.”

  Normally, my dad would be standing between Dara and me, forcing me to leave and get some fresh air. Really, all he would be doing is giving his pride and joy her way.

  Well, I’ll be damned if I do that. Things have to change around here, and today is as good a day as any for it to start. Not to mention, now that we know that our father’s health condition will not allow for him to continue doing what he was so passionate about, it’s up to us to keep this business moving in the right direction.

  This type of behavior is not going to uphold the reputation that he spent years building. No matter the strained relationship I have with my father, it’s important to me that we make him proud. With that said, I have to put Dara in her place and set a line in the sand that she’ll soon learn even she can’t cross.

  “You know damn good and well that Kail is an excellent lawyer. She’s going through personal shit that you wouldn’t know anything about because you’ve never had a man who would put up with your shitty attitude for more than a day. Maybe you need to focus on your own personal life and quit sticking your nose in ours. Being a raging bitch has gotten you nowhere.” I turn and walk toward the door before looking back at her. “And I won’t apologize for not enjoying sitting in an office all damn day. I’m happy with what I do now, and I promise you that I don’t need you to approve of what I do for a living. Just for this bullshit you pulled today, don’t ask me to work your cases anymore. Good luck, and we’ll see just how useless I am when you have to do all your own work.”

  As good as it felt to get all that out, the whole day has sucked.

  I leave the office and meet Kailin at her house. We discuss Dara and her unwavering bitchiness, and she fills me in on some details about Eden that she has not shared with anyone else. It seems as if her husband, Cal, has been spending a whole lot of time dealing with his father’s mysterious illness, which I already knew. What I didn’t know is that she’s pretty sure another woman, an old acquaintance, is the reason he finds it necessary to travel back to his hometown and not let his siblings who live there handle the situation.

  My sisters are a damn mess. Shit, but I am, too. We’re all a damn mess.

  I don’t know what the hell is going on. All of a sudden, the people closest to me are hurting, and I don’t like it. Worst of all, I can’t fix it.

  The month has passed in the blink of an eye.

  Things are pretty much back to my version of normal now. Rion has gone back to New York for school. I’m busy with working on several cases for my sisters and one for an attorney in Chicago. I meet Cory at Perdue’s most every evening for a drink.

  My hook-up with Katie was just that once. I haven’t even been tempted to go there again. I avoid her at all costs, and she’s noticed. I don’t care though. Sex isn’t enough, and the sex wasn’t good enough to begin with. She still makes it clear that I have an open invitation inside her pants. I have no interest and will never take her up on that offer again.

  I’m content to carry on just as I always have.

  I find myself thinking of Truly every single day. The few weekends that we spent together have changed something for me. If I believed in magic, I would swear she put a spell on me, that she ruined all other women for me. Somehow, I don’t look at women with the same intentions as I did just a few months ago.

  It seems there’s only one person who fully satisfies me, and she’s too far away. I wish the miles were the only thing between us, but that just isn’t the case. I’d travel to New York every weekend just to see her. I have to remind myself that distance is not our biggest issue.

  Truly gets inside her own head, and that’s a place no map can guide me. I wish like hell I could understand what goes on in that manic mind of hers. And how she can fight the feelings I know she has for me, too. I swear, she’s punishing herself, and this is just one of the many ways she does it.

  What better way than to remain in a lonely state of being?

  There’s no possible way that she has never once had feelings for a guy and wanted more out of the relationship.

  Yes, I’m positive she enjoys the pain of denying herself the things she most wants, as fucked up as that is. The problem is, I don’t deny myself what I want. Quite the contrary, I don’t stop until I get what I want.

  The more I analyze this whole situation, the more it pisses me off.

  Aside from the brief conversation Truly and I had via text when I returned to Fallport, I haven’t heard from her. This is so typical of her that, until right now, I’ve not let it bother me like I did when she left Fallport last time. In fact, I’ve carried on with my life as it was before she showed up on her birthday a few months ago.

  Don’t get me wrong. I miss everything about her. It’s not so casual anymore. We used to fuck, emotionless fucking. When she was here to settle her mother’s estate, it felt different. I chalked it up to being more mature than the last time we were together. When we were younger, only the start and the finish were exciting. Everything else was a challenge to see how long we could last. When I was in New York, something changed. What was in between the start and the finish took center stage. It was an intensity that I’ve never felt, and I’m pretty sure it’s because I love her.

  The only thing I have left of her is that bottle of Chanel No. 5. It’s no replacement though for her smart mouth that I wish to God I could kiss every night before bed or her soft skin that I would give anything to glide my hands over every morning. Most of all, I crave the feeling of sinking deep into her while she moans my name and drags her fingernails down my back. No woman has ever felt like an extension of my own body when I’m inside her the way Truly does. Even so, I’m smart enough to accept that if she is not capable of being the partner that I need, then this is where it ends.

  I’m forty years old and set in my ways. I have no interest in making a home or a life with anyone else. So, I’ve settled for life the way it’s been for years, and I wait to see where it’ll take me.

  I’ll look forward to every visit with Truly. I do, however, plan on seeing her more often than every ten years. She doesn’t know it, but when I go visit Rion next week, I’ll be stopping by Truly’s office for an unannounced visit.

  And I will make sure she remembers that I am the only man she needs, the only man who will bend her over that desk and fuck her like she needs it. Even though it isn’t exactly the way I want it, it is exactly the way Truly needs it.

  pronunciation dis-hahr-muh-nee

  (n.) something disagreeable to the ear; strife

  Truly

  It’s ten a.m. on a Monday morning, and I haven’t yet made it out of bed. I have a few missed calls from the same number, but I don’t recognize it, so I’m not worried about it.

  Being the genius that she is, Marie has left my schedule open this week, knowing full well that I would need it after a second go at Rodney Addison.

  I don’t have a good feeling about this gu
y.

  The past year, we have become lax in investigating our clients before we agree to work with them. We’re really lucky this is the worst that has happened. Frankly, I think we are all getting a little tired and feeling less interested in what once started out as a passion to help people.

  Most of all, I’ve seen the shift in Marie. She’s been spending more time developing her lingerie line. It’s about time, too. She’s so talented, and her designs are absolutely stunning. Besides, her involvement in the business she shares with Lissa and me is a sore spot with her husband, Thomas. He tolerates it only because she was years into it before they even met. He’s a wonderful man, and he would never ask her to walk away, but he doesn’t interact with Lissa and me at all. He keeps anyone and anything to do with the business far removed from his life. The day she no longer is involved will be a very happy day for him.

  Lissa seems to be only tolerating the lifestyle these days. I really think that’s why she’s dating Ellis. She’s never had an interest in him, outside of a friendship, and I’m surprised that she would be willing to risk losing that friendship just to have a companion who accepts what she does for a living. Being our first client and playing a major role in how we modeled our business, he knows exactly what Lissa does when she’s at work. He won’t challenge her.

  Besides, I guess not everyone can be satisfied with being a lonely bitch like me. What a joke that is. I’m so dissatisfied with myself that it’s sickening.

  Sighing aloud and rolling my eyes, I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed.

  I miss Tyler. I miss him so much that it’s painful. Not only emotionally, but physically. My head and heart have ached for him since the moment he walked out the door, and now, my body is beginning to crave his touch.

  I trace my bottom lip with my own fingertips, wishing they were Tyler’s fingers. I slide my hands down my neck and between my breasts. It’s been over a month, and I’ve been sexually frustrated. I was used to long lapses in my sexual encounters before I arrived in Fallport to settle my mother’s estate. Now that everything is settled, there’s no reason for me to continue seeing Tyler. One more thing that I can blame on my mother.

  I cup my breasts and roughly knead them as I pinch my nipples until they perk up into stiff peaks. As I rub my hands over them, I want so much more—namely, Tyler’s warm wet mouth to suck each of them until it’s just painful enough that I moan in the most satisfied way.

  I let my hands fall against my stomach and over my hips to my thighs. Spreading my legs, I watch the marks that appear on the inside of my thigh as I grab and pinch it. Digging my nails into my flesh, I need just a little pain to counteract the pleasure I’m about to give myself.

  I slide my fingers under my panties and through my damp folds. My breathing is rapid though my own touch is barely enough to satisfy the blaze inside of me. Imagining Tyler’s masterful hands on me, I fall back on my bed and continue to massage my clit just the way he would. My body heats up to a nice toasty warmth, and I let out a moan of relief.

  Trying to stay in the moment, I shimmy out of my panties and place my feet on the edge of the bed, spreading myself. He would bury his fingers deep inside me and lick every inch of me. I thrust two fingers inside. With my other hand, I rub my clit, leaning up to watch myself. My hips move up and down with my thrusting fingers, my tits bounce just the way Tyler loves them to. I need his lips on me so fucking bad. I scream his name as I find my release. It’s quick and relieving, but it doesn’t come near what Tyler does to my body. He sends me to places no other man has, and I know now that no other man will.

  I fall back on the bed, and for the first time, I wonder if living without Tyler is an option. I have never ached for something so bad like I do for him. In every single way possible, he completes me, no matter how much I don’t want him to.

  I decide on a bath in hopes of relaxing myself.

  Once out of the bath, I settle in my chair on the balcony with a book. Just as I sit down, I hear a ringing from inside the house. I rush to answer.

  Grabbing my phone, I press the Send key. “Hello?”

  “Well, she finally answers.” A deep voice that sounds altered comes through the speaker.

  I pull the phone away from my face. In my hurry to answer the call, I didn’t bother to look at the display. As I suspected, it’s the unknown caller who has been blowing my phone up all day.

  Slowly, I press the phone back to my ear. “Whom, may I ask, am I speaking with?”

  I barely get the words out before the loud angry voice assaults me, “Oh, don’t play that proper shit with me. I know you. You can’t fool me like you do everyone else, bitch.”

  My mouth falls open. I gasp before becoming paralyzed by fear. Not able to exhale the breath I just sucked in, I panic. Immediately, I rush to my front door and lock the handle and then the dead bolt.

  “Who is this?” I say sternly.

  “Locking the door won’t help you. I will get what’s mine.”

  How the hell? Is someone watching me? I look around my apartment, as if I’m going to find someone here with me.

  “Who is this?” I say again, trying to keep the fear from my voice but failing.

  “Oh, yes, be afraid. I love it. And don’t you worry your pretty little ass about who this is. Just know this, whore. I’m watching you, and I will get what I want.”

  Not believing what I’m hearing, I slap my hand over my mouth and drop down to the ottoman near the balcony door.

  “So, watch your back!” he screams so loudly that I pull the phone away from my face.

  My hands are shaking so bad that I drop it. After fumbling as I try to pick it up, I maintain a grasp on it. When I’m finally able to hold the phone to my ear, I plead with the caller, “What do you want? Just tell me.”

  There’s no reply.

  “Hello? Who is this? What do you want?”

  There’s nothing coming from the other end. The call has disconnected, and I don’t know who or what this is even about. I begin to fall into a panic attack.

  Stumbling to the balcony door for fresh air, I again drop the phone to the floor and frantically reach out for the door handle. I need fresh air right now. The moment the door opens, I fall clumsily onto the balcony and into a chair, gasping for air like my life depends on it.

  Twenty minutes and a few glasses of wine later, I’ve regained my composure. I’m sitting on the balcony, looking out at Central Park, wondering if the unknown caller might have been right out in plain sight as he made the call.

  My first instinct is to call Tyler. I wish I didn’t find such a sense of comfort and calm with his voice and touch, but the fact is that I do. I know that I also have to tell Lissa and Marie. They need to know. If anything does happen to me, they need the whole story, so they’ll have something to take to the authorities.

  Finally, I’ve had just enough wine that I’ve worked up the nerve to call Tyler. I feel as though I’m moving in slow motion as I open my Contacts app, scroll down to Tyler’s name, and tap the phone icon next to his name.

  Pressing the phone to my ear, I nearly change my mind and hang up the call. Instead, while the phone rings, I occupy my hands by picking up the bottle of wine, and I take a long drink right out of the bottle. That should help me through this conversation. A month has passed, and I know he will be sour with me about letting it end this way yet again. I don’t blame him. I’m no happier with myself than he is. And now, I’ve gotten myself into some mess that I have no idea how to deal with.

  “Hello?” From the moment he speaks, Tyler’s voice has a soothing effect on me.

  I’m sure I should say something witty, but I don’t. “Hi, Ty.”

  After a short pause, he speaks, “Tru, how are you?”

  To my surprise, I don’t sense aggravation in his voice at all.

  I choose to lie to him. I don’t want to involve him in my mess any more now than I ever have. “I’m okay. How are you?” I’m still feeling out his mood towa
rd me. I almost want him to be angry with me. I deserve it.

  “Right this moment, I’m very good.” He seems sincere.

  Right now, after the incident earlier today, I need Tyler. No, I don’t need him. For the first time ever, I want him. I just want him.

  “I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve called,” I whine.

  “No need to apologize. I’m just glad you did.”

  “Um…” Now that I have him on the phone, I have no idea what to say. “How have you been?”

  “Fine. Same old, same old really. You?” He seems as lost for words as I am.

  “Nothing exciting to report. I’ve been busy.” I take a deep breath, and when he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, I tell him the real reason I called, “Tyler, I miss you so much.”

  He pauses for so long that I fear what might come out of his mouth.

  “Well then…” In his tone, I can hear the smile that my admission of misery gives him. “I miss you, too, babe. A lot.”

  I have the most wonderful ache deep in my soul from hearing him refer to me as babe. “You do?” I beg to hear it again.

  “Of course I do. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to be fine,” I whisper.

  “So, something is wrong then?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said you’re going to be fine. So, you’re not fine now?”

  “No, I am fine. Everything is fine. Really.” I try to reassure him, but he’s not stupid.

  He pauses for too long, and I know that he doesn’t believe me.

  “Are you drinking?”

  Again, I choose to lie. It’s only because the last time I called him, I was drinking. If he knows I am again, he’s going to think I’m a lush.

  “No, I’m not drinking. I just really miss you.”

  For a moment, we’re both silent. I think the wine hits me all at once because I have word vomit suddenly. Either that, or the fear of him not wanting me after all the games I’ve played drives me to spill out all the pent-up feelings I’ve been holding in for far too long. “Tyler, I want you to know that I don’t know what’s wrong with me or why I find it necessary to keep you at arm’s length. I hope you know how much you mean to me. I don’t want to live a life without you anymore, Ty. I mean, I know you don’t sit around waiting on me to call you. You’re probably seeing someone by now, but I’ll take you in any capacity I can have you, and if that’s as a friend, I’ll gladly take it. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep running from something I’ve always wanted. I’m tired of it.” I face-palm and bite my lip, waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, I resort to begging. “Please say something, Tyler.”