Taunting Lips (A Teasing Hands Accompaniment) (7 page)

How could I when it felt like this was our goodbye? She pled again, and this time I let her see all of me. Every bit of my desperation and hurt. Amanda let out a painful sob and swayed, and I rushed to reach out for her and pulled her in close.

Perfection was how she felt in my arms. Warm and soft. The perfect equal to my harsher lines. I angled my hips away from her slightly, my cock becoming harder with each shudder she released. This is how we were meant to be. This is how we would be if I had any say in it.

“I’m—” I began again, but the tremble of her body and the shake of her head made me pause mid-sentence.

“Please don’t,” Amanda begged through quivering lips.

“
Gatita
, I need to explain. Just let me explain.” At this, she pulled herself away from me—stumbling, she managed to hold her body up using my car. My face crumbled, and an invisible, yet painful knot lodged itself in my throat.

“Not now.” In my head, all I heard was never.

I’d lost her.

7

I stayed glued—my limbs couldn't move as she pulled away and walked inside. The invisible wall she’d resurrected was firmly in place, and it would take more than what I had to break down every stone I helped create.

They say that time heals all wounds, that you will breathe easier with each day that passes. It was a lie. It took me losing this sweet girl to realize the things I avoided after serving Olivia the divorce papers. She hurt me, and I let her.

After a few minutes, I regained the use of my body and walked toward the driver’s side. I cast one last longing look toward the front door, then opened the car door, and got in. If I wanted my 
gatita
 back, I was going to have to face the one demon that—until today—I never knew existed.

Picking up my phone, I dialed the one person I knew would never judge me. “Hey, man, can you meet me at the condo?”

“Took you long enough.” Oliver laughed. I didn't, and that sobered him up quickly. “You okay?”

How did I respond to that and not sound like a total bitch?

“To be honest with you, I don’t know.” Backing down her driveway, I made a fast turn once on the main road and headed toward I-95. My condominium was in a trendy part of South Beach; I liked it this way. Near the beaches and surrounded by women dressed in next to nothing. “Just saw Amanda…”

He let out a long sigh before speaking. “Let me call Stacy…give me twenty, and I’ll be over.”

“I’ll pick up a bottle of Middleton on my way home.” Getting off the highway, I drove up a few streets until merging with US-1 and continued on until reaching my destination. It took just a few minutes to locate my poison for the evening; would've been quicker if the female sales rep would’ve left me alone.

Why couldn't a woman realize—and not take offense—when a man wasn't interested in wetting his dick?  Wasn't that hard to comprehend, if you asked me.

Oliver was just pulling in next to my designated spot when I parked. No one spoke as we exited and walked toward the elevators. Not a single word until we sat outside on my rooftop terrace with our drinks in hand and looking out at the crashing waves hitting the shore.

“She did a real number on you.”

Nodding, I took a sip of my whiskey and let it sit on my tongue for a minute before replying. “Amanda has done more than a number. I love her, man.”

“Could’ve told you that, but Camden, I wasn't talking about her. Olivia, bro. 
She’
s the one that did the number on you.” The asshole smirked at me from over his glass and took a sip. “Good shit.”

“As much as you being right pisses me off, I can’t deny that she did. Young and in love, I gave her everything I had and even what I didn't. She never gave our relationship any priority.” It was all about the parties, her desires; what my family had, and I would someday acquire. People live with this fucked up notion that money is the key to happiness, and it isn't. All it does is bring out the worst in people, makes them bitter and unsatisfied.”

Nothing was ever good enough. I was never enough.

 “Olivia was, and is, a money hungry bitch.” This caught my attention…what did he mean “is”?

My eyes left the skyline in front of me and snapped toward his. “Have you seen her?”

Oliver’s lips set into a thin line, his face turned hard and expression cold. “She’s friends with one of Stacy’s friends. We don’t associate with her, but have bumped into her a time or two when one of them is throwing a party.” He stopped for a second and took another sip of whiskey. “Damn, that’s good.”

“Agreed,” I added and waved his explanation on. If he knew where she was all this time, why not tell me?

“Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled and put the tumbler down on the small table next to him. “It was an irrelevant fact. You never spoke about her until I found that picture at your place and asked.”

Oliver was right, yet for a brief second I felt betrayed. Olivia, years later, was still the bane of my existence, and thanks to her, I’d hurt the one woman to break down my walls and love me for me.

“We need to talk,” I said the moment Olivia had come through the door of our apartment. She’d been out all night. Partying with her new friends and living her life, apart from me, as if she didn't have a husband who busted his balls to pay for all of her “needs.”

“Not now, Cam.” She unceremoniously dropped onto the couch in front of me. Her makeup looked messy, like a woman who’d been on a dance floor all night sweating and drinking. Sloppy. “Jesus, I’m tired. By the way, did you pay my credit card bill? I’m going shopping in the morning.”

Her blasé attitude didn’t surprise me one bit. It was always about her. I didn’t matter enough to warrant any affection.

No kiss.

No hug.

No, ‘“Hi, honey, how was your day?”’

“Yes, the fuck now,” I hissed and slammed a manila folder on the center table in our living room. She eyed it, yet didn't make a move to ask what it was. “I’m over this. You…me…it doesn't work. No more, Olivia, I’m done.”

“Oh, would you quit bitching? What happened to the man that lived to make me happy?”

I let out a jaded laugh and stood up from the couch. “You killed him. Died the night he said ‘I do.’”

“You’re being overdramatic.” Stupid bitch didn't give a shit about me.

“No, what I’m doing is getting a divorce. It’s about time I began to live my life…actually get some pussy every once in a while.” Olivia’s eyes flashed to mine with rage. She prided herself on being beautiful. The only girl to have ever caught my attention in all these years, I’d never cheated or so much as looked at another. I’d loved her.

Fuck that. Fuck her.

“Stacy can’t stand the woman.” He spoke low, yet in the silence of the night, it felt loud. What was it about her that still affected me so? It couldn’t be love. Not a fucking chance. Hate? Yes, that made sense.

Sighing, I ran a hand down my face and grabbed the bottle from the table. “Olivia was never one to make friends, especially the female kind—too obnoxious––a snob in the worst form since she didn’t come from money.”

“She hasn’t changed a bit, Cam. Just looks haggard…older. Bitter.”

“Where does she live?” I asked and poured myself another two fingers of whiskey. He eyed me as if I were a mental hospital escapee. “I need to talk to her, Oliver. There’s a lot of anger within, shit that I need to let out. Olivia deserves to bear the brunt of that anger.”

“Will it help?”

“Yes.”

Tipping his glass back, he drank the last of its contents and smiled. “I’ll have it to you by the morning.”

The address Oliver gave me led me to a little house in the up-and-coming Mid-Town area of Miami.  What had been a rundown art district was slowly becoming the place to be seen for the young and trendy. Her house, a small, single-family home, sat on a corner lot, a block away from the water’s edge.

This couldn’t be right. I turned to look at my GPS and compared it with the address Oliver texted me this morning. However, it was, and it boggled my mind.

The Olivia I married would never step foot in a place like this. Her false aristocratic ideals would never let her see the beauty in the eclectic vibes this part of town thrived on. Small businesses littered the area; lounges, art galleries, clothing shops. It wasn’t her style then.

Getting out of the car, I walked over to the door and rang the bell. I heard the sound of paws hitting the floor, of a woman yelling for the dog not to run. This had to be the wrong address. My ex hated dogs.

Then the door swung open and…nothing. That it was her, of that there was no doubt, but there was no rage or hurt inside of me. Numb. No reaction.

“Camden.” Olivia’s surprised face almost made me laugh. She fidgeted from foot to foot just inside the entryway, still in her robe and slippers, her hair piled up at the top of her head and not a drop of makeup on her face. “What are you doing here?”

My eyes drank every inch of her in, trying to reconcile what stood before me now, and the woman I was married to. She looked old—tired. What the fuck happened to her?

“I’ve asked myself that same question many times within the last few hours.” Leaning an arm against the door’s frame, I took in a deep breath and tried in vain to calm the nerves that had taken over.

“You’ve always been so handsome.” Olivia’s eyes roamed me then; I felt their intensity as they raked down my body. They made me feel dirty. She’d lost that right to me a long time ago.

“May I come in?” The conversation had to be diverted, or the next words that came out of my mouth would hurt her feelings. She looked like shit.

At the harsh tone in my voice, she jumped and waved me in. “Sure…fuck! I look a mess; can you give me a few minutes to change? Plus, I need to put Gaby away.” The dog by her feet barked at the sound of her name, tail wagging as her owner crouched down and picked her up.

“No.” Her appearance, while nothing like the girl I married, had no bearing on this conversation. If I’d let her, she would be gone for an hour trying to look “presentable” for me. Waste of time in my opinion. “We need to talk.”

“But, it’ll just—” She signaled the room down the hallway, her bedroom I presumed. I interrupted before she could finish.

“Put the mutt away, and make it quick.”  Sighing, I ran a hand down my face and turned to glare at her. There was no way in hell I was going to stand here and listen to her whine. Just hearing that nasal, almost wail-like tone made me angry. Reminded me of how she ran my life with that sound, and how I did anything in my power to avoid hearing it.

Instead of arguing with her, I walked past and into the tiny living room next to the entryway. Sparsely decorated and with almost no personal touches, it had a cold effect. Like the residents in the property were temporary.

“Why are you being so difficult?” she grumbled and sat down on the couch next to me after taking her dog into the kitchen. Her huffing and puffing annoyed me, but this wasn’t her show. She would wait until I was ready to begin.

My eyes traveled around the room, taking it all in before turning back to face her. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Her eyes narrowed and lips pursed. “How dare you come into my home and—”

“Save the dramatics, Olivia. I’m not that man anymore…could give two shits if you’re upset or not.” A sarcastic laugh bubbled out of me. “You made me this way, remember?”

“I know.” The bitchy expression she wore mere seconds ago softened immediately. Shoulders slumped and eyes shining with unshed tears, Olivia lowered her head and watched her wringing hands in her lap. “You have no idea how sorry I am for everything, Cam. Every day, when I wake up and face my reality, I mourn what we had.”

“Don’t,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “Don’t.” If she thought—for just a small second— that I felt any kind of remorse over the destruction of us, she was dead wrong. I tried to regulate my breathing, to control the sudden anger that had resurfaced, before I let go and unleashed all I held within.

Did she deserve it? Yes, but looking at her, seeing with my own eyes that life hadn’t been kind to her, made me stop. I was never one to kick a person when they were down. I wasn’t raised that way.

“Camden,” her meek voice called out to me. When the fuck did I stand up and begin to pace her living room? Suddenly, I felt like a caged animal. This, coming here, was a mistake. “Can I say something?”