Cruel and Beautiful (Cruel & Beautiful #1)

“Well, pack some condoms in your purse. I hear it gets a little wild.”


I’m still thinking about Mandy’s comment on Friday after I get home from work. Jeff has given me a thorough view of Ted’s company’s accounting system and practices. It’s good and he and his team seem to know what they’re doing. I set up a meeting with Ted’s office on Monday morning after filing a report with my boss. I’m going to have to bring muffins, donuts and coffee as peace offerings and maybe take them all to a fancy dinner to make up for my ruse.

There is a knock at my door and I’m pumped. Since I wasn’t sure when I would get off of work, Jenna agreed to take a cab to my place when she lands.

“Jenna,” I say throwing open the door. Only it isn’t Jenna. “Andy.”

Confused, I just stand there. Since he hasn’t called all week, I’ve assumed he’s given up on us.

“Cate,” he says before leaning down to take my mouth in a possessive kiss.

He pulls back and I dumbly say, “Andy,” again like my mouth is on repeat.

His smile widens into a smirk. “Cate.”

With an arm around my waist, he dances me back so that the door can close behind him.

“Andy, I’m so happy to see you. Come in,” he mocks.

“I’m—” I start but I’m unable to finish. Jenna will be here at any time and I’m not ready for her to find out about him. She will have so much to say, none of it good.

He pulls back to stand straight. His arms are gone and I’m suddenly chilled by the cool air created between us.

“I can go.” His face is so serious and I know that things are already messed up between us.

“No, it’s not that. You didn’t call all week. I assumed—” I waved a dismissive hand between us.

“I didn’t call, but you didn’t either. I planned to wait you out and not push. But when I want something or someone, I don’t play around. I want you, Cate. I can’t get you out of my head. I think I said your name at least twenty times this week by accident in multiple conversations. I had to see you.”

“It’s just that—” I try again but his lips are on mine.

He pulls me close and I feel his need pressed against me.

I practically swallow his tongue as I give him entrance. He tastes of coffee and hazelnut. I find myself on my toes wanting to get closer.

He obliges me by scooping me up under my butt. He turns and walks me over to set me down on my Ikea bistro table. It’s not expensive solid wood and I worry it won’t hold us both if he has what I have in mind.

He manages to untuck my blouse from the skirt I wore to work. I hadn’t changed yet, not knowing what Jenna might want to do tonight. His hands brand my sides. I want them to move north and touch me where I ache. I push at his coat on his shoulders. He takes the hint and lets it fall down his arms and to the ground.

“Fuck, Cate, I need you. I love the feel of you.”

That one word makes me go cold. Love. It’s as if he’s reached into my chest and fisted my heart in his hands. Love. It’s a dirty word in my book and brings me back to the past we both promised to leave behind. But it’s there. I remember with aching clarity all the reasons why he should hate me and I should hate myself.

He pulls back and focuses on my face. “Cate.” He says it so soft it almost sounds desperate.

“I can’t.” My voice breaks on the word and I feel on the verge of tears.

“Don’t do this.” He sounds calm but I hear the anger behind the words. And he has every right to be angry. “You’re going to run aren’t you?”

He steps back without bothering to wait for an answer. I cover my mouth with my hand, fearful of the sob that’s banging at the back of my closed lips. I say nothing because only pain will spew forth. He reaches down to gather his coat and when he stands I can see the bulge there for the taking. But it’s too late. He turns and heads out the door. It rattles when it closes making me jump. I’m about ready to release the sob when a knock comes at my door.

I run to it, hoping I can straighten things out. When I open it, I realize my mistake.

A wide-eyed Jenna points a finger down the hall. “That guy looks a lot like—”

Her words trail off when she turns and gets a good look at my face.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” That’s when my floodgates open. “Was that—?”

I shake my head. “I can’t. I can’t talk about it right now.”

She walks inside, drops her suitcase, and I’m immediately engulfed in a fierce hug.

“We don’t have to talk about it tonight. But we will talk about it before I go,” she declares. “Tonight, wine and ice cream. Plus—” She steps back and from her massive purse she pulls out a DVD. “I bought this.”

Proudly, she holds up a copy of the latest installment of the Magic Mike series. It could have been sixteenth or seventeenth, for all I know.

“We can watch this on mute.”

“On mute,” I sputter, wiping at tears.

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