Interlude [Book 2] Read online

  The man who broke my heart earlier leans his forehead against mine. “I don’t know why you ran away from me. But understand this,” Julian whispers. “We belong, Lina. We belong.”

  Storing my aching heart away for now, I continue to ride him. Although he has already come, he remains hard without fail and is ready for round two. We fuck like it’s been years even though it’s only been a matter of minutes. Our bodies entwined and the only sound that can be heard is our breathing. My heartbeat quickens, and wonder if that, too, can be heard.

  We belong.

  His large hands are on my waist, guiding me to move up and down on his magnificent manhood, and instructing me to, “Ride me as deep as you want.” Without a warning, I feel one of his fingers touch my wet folds. “Only you,” he utters before placing the wet finger in his mouth. “You’re the only woman I want to taste.” He smiles before placing the finger along my wet folds again. In a matter of seconds, he places the wet digit behind me, at the entrance of my ass, and without a warning, pushes it inside.

  I gasp. The feeling of having his finger inside my other entrance is a different sensation for me. Julian’s the only man who has ever touched me there. The only man who will ever touch me there. “Darling, soon, I’ll be inside there, fucking this sweet arse of yours,” he says as he continues to play with my virgin hole. The fullness of having his huge, thick length inside my drenched sex, his wet finger inside my ass, and his delicious mouth invading mine is too much to bear. I come undone again.

  “Ohh … Julian!” I scream without care.

  Capturing my lips with such force that it hurts mine, he comes undone as well. “Lina−”

  A tear runs down my cheek when I look into his eyes. He brings me passion. He brings me heartache. He induces emotions that have been foreign to me.

  We don’t discuss why I didn’t answer his calls and texts. I don’t recount the miserable day I had. I don’t mention the photo that brought me to torrential tears. I don’t call him out for lying to me. I don’t scream at him for breaking my heart all over again. I try to fight the tears threatening to break. With an unsteady voice, I whisper, “I’m the fool who loves you … I will always love you, Julian,” before resting my head against his chest.

  Thirty-Three

  The last few months revived something in me. I. Am. Alive. Rather than be a voyeur who watches life go by, I have become an enthusiastic participant. Liberated. Adventurous. Living in the moment, all because of a certain Englishman who captured my heart.

  Beauty really is a bitch.

  The beating of my lover’s heart as I lay my left hand across his chest stirs me. As he sleeps, it’s his breathing I hear. It is the rise and fall of his chest I feel. It is his full lips my forefinger traces. His long eyelashes flutter because of a dream. The sun slowly rises, and the day is about to begin. I’d like to lay here with Julian and pretend I’m not going anywhere. I’d like to pretend I never opened the email. I’d like to pretend we’re not ending our interlude.

  I allow myself a moment to think of all the things I need to do. One of them is to confront my past.

  It’s been three days since I saw the photo of Julian and Shira. Have I forgotten about it? Not. At. All. I just didn’t have the audacity to bring it up. Our fling is coming to a close, and all I wanted to do was bask in the dream-like state of being with Julian Caine. But like all dreams, they are interrupted intermittently.

  I’m not usually a nosy person, but after making love, I heard Julian’s phone vibrate as he retrieved a warm towel from the master bathroom. Out of curiosity? Out of the need to torture myself? How could I not look? It was there, annoyingly buzzing away and waiting for my prying eyes. Just like the email, I was struck with Shira’s text to Julian yesterday. Bold letters brought me back to reality.

  SHIRA: Baby, just arrived in London. Can’t wait to be with you again.

  Bitch.

  Whore.

  Shira.

  Idiot.

  No, that’s me.

  Did I scream?

  No.

  Did I leave his duplex?

  No.

  Did I even confront him?

  No.

  What exactly did I do? I continued to spend the entire day and night with him pretending I never saw the text. The truth hit me in the face. I knew what I had with Julian, and it was going to end soon. And as much as I was heartbroken, I knew I couldn’t do anything but enjoy the time I had with him. Passion. Moments in love. Romantic interlude. Call it what you will. For me, it was love. It is love. Deep, dark, passionate, and unattainable love. If only for a short time, I would revel in these moments with him. At least my heart, although it ached and was shattering, felt its beating, and it was beating only for Julian Caine.

  When did I decide to fly back to LA?

  Last night.

  I wouldn’t be able to endure watching the man I love leave for London. I didn’t want to witness him walk out the door knowing he would be with another woman hours later. Pride got the best of me. While Julian attended an outside meeting, I went to my loft, pulled up my laptop, and emailed Andrew. I simply wrote:

  I’ll see you tomorrow evening.

  I didn’t mention reconciliation. After hitting the send button, I silently cried and then purchased my ticket back to LA. I packed some of my belongings and walked back to Julian’s duplex, knowing it would be my last night with him.

  As soon as he greeted me, I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered something I shouldn’t have said. “I’ll always be yours.”

  Last night, I explored his body as if it were my last night on earth. Committing to memory the muscles on his shoulder when he lifted me, the scar on the side of his cheek, the curvature of his ass as he entered me, the parted lips when he groaned, the haunting expression of his eyes as he stared into mine, and the way our bodies pressed together so perfectly.

  Last night, I loved him with everything I had in me. Knowing it would be the last time our lips would kiss, the last time our bodies would melt into one, the last time our hands would be intertwined while our chests touch, the last time I would hear utterances as he entered me. I never had the chance to properly say goodbye to all those I have loved and lost− my mother, my father, Elisa, Caroline− I wanted to be able to walk away in the morning knowing I had given myself to him. And although I was leaving Julian, I allowed my heart to belong to him one more night.

  The alarm clock goes off, and The Cure’s “Lovesong” plays. “Good morning, darling.” He turns to his side to face me. As he has done the past few weeks, he plants a soft morning kiss on my lips. Moving slightly away, he examines my nervous face. This man knows me too well.

  “Good morning,” I say, barely a whisper. Reaching out to touch his cheek, my forefinger traces his scar. This is our last time of intimacy, I think sadly to myself. “Julian.”

  “Lina,” he says my name like it’s the most enchanting thing I’ve ever heard.

  “Tell me something, something you’ve never revealed to anyone before,” I ask, wanting him to share a piece of himself. Something I can take with me before leaving our cocoon.

  His sparkling eyes bore into mine as he interlaces our fingers. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I was besotted with you.”

  “A few months ago?”

  “No, the first time we met,” he corrects me, emphasizing the word first.

  “Julian, you were what seven years old?” I ask incredulously. “And I was a chubby ten-year-old who always had tangled hair.”

  “That’s correct, and I adored your tangled hair.” Squeezing my hand tightly, he admits, “I’ve been crazy about you ever since.”

  I allow myself to process Julian’s words and wonder if I’m making a mistake. I remember the past few months, and unfortunately, Shira’s photo and texts trump them all.

  Julian knows I would never share. And he hasn’t asked me to be with him for always.

  “Darling, what’s wrong?” he asks, unaware of the brew
ing ache in my heart.

  I don’t respond. My thumb now rests on his cheek for a few more seconds before I lean into his arms, resting my head on his chest.

  Walls close in. And although the sun shines brightly through the bedroom, it feels so dark in here. The day to let go has finally arrived, and all I can do is weep at the memory of the past few months.

  In a matter of hours, I’ll be on a plane heading back to LA.

  “What did you just say?” he asks with a hint of disbelief.

  I urge myself to speak. “I’m … I’m returning to LA today.” I stare into the distance, unable to face him. “I need to see Andrew. And you’ll be leaving tomorrow.” I don’t mention the woman waiting for him in London. I don’t mention he lied to me. I quickly disentangle myself from his arms, knowing this is the only way to walk away from him, from us. I make my way over to the dresser, taking a change of clothes before placing them on top of the gray armchair. I turn around as I wait for him to respond.

  He sits up with his back against the headboard. Glaring at me, he says, “What do you mean you’re returning to LA? What do you mean Andrew? Why do you need to see him? Help me here. I don’t understand. What about us? I assumed you would stay here and wait. We would remain together.”

  Wait? Like one of his women?

  I take a deep breath. “Julian, when we started this, we both knew this would be temporary. Even though Andrew and I broke up−” It takes everything in me to try to find the right words, if any.

  As I try not to falter, he interrupts me, “Didn’t I just tell you I’ve been crazy about you all my life? Did we not just make love a few hours ago? More importantly, how could you go back to him when you love me? Did you not tell me that you love me?”

  “I love you. My God, I love you so much. But it’s not just about Andrew. Julian, you and I, we both know you don’t do relationships.” I look sadly at him.

  “Yes, I’m the first to admit that. In the past, I didn’t. I couldn’t, but things have changed. How can you not feel what’s happened between us?”

  “I know you, Julian. The truth is, I’ll never be enough for you.” He left you right after you made love. “I need more than just your words. I want a family. I want kids. I want a marriage. I want more than an interlude. I deserve more than an interlude. I want something I’ve never, ever had. Andrew wants to marry me and he’s willing … he’s willing to adopt.”

  The man I’m leaving stares at me, and although I refuse to meet his eyes, I sense melancholy has come over him. I slowly turn his way, and I’m met with a side of Julian I had never encountered before. His arms are folded as if trying to hold himself although he remains in bed. His cheeks are slightly reddened. He lowers his head and his eyes remain downcast. His shoulders slouch. His body language reveals both anger and … defeat.

  Slowly raising his head, he says, “You can walk away so easily from this? From us?”

  “You’re the one leaving tomorrow. I’ve waited years for you. And I allowed you to waltz back into my life so easily.”

  Ask me to go with you. Make me believe I’m the only one.

  His eyes glisten, and I wonder if he’s holding back the tears I’m trying to prevent myself from forming. How can he ask me to stay when another woman is waiting for him? Why hasn’t he asked me to join him? I want to scream Shira’s name but realize nothing will change him. She’s not the problem. Julian is; he will never be mine.

  I wanted Julian to want me, to love me, to own me, even though I knew all along that nothing could ever come out of it.

  The man I love has an unattainable heart; he’s unable to commit to being with one woman.

  Resigned with the knowledge he’s not offering me an invitation, I refuse to beg. Even if I don’t reconcile with Andrew, I’m not going to be the woman waiting for him.

  “I’m leaving, Julian. When we started this, you were the one who said that we would enjoy a month together. It’s been more than a month. You were the one who admitted you couldn’t offer me more than our time in New York.” I shut my eyes tightly. “And you have women.” I open my eyes, trying my best to compose myself. With my attention on the clock on the nightstand, I say, “My flight leaves in less than four hours and a car will be here to pick me up in thirty minutes. Let’s make this easy and let me go.” Slowly backing away for fear that the closer I am to him, the more difficult it will be to leave.

  “Make it easy?” There’s no mistaking the sarcastic tone in his voice. “What the fuck, Lina? Women? What women? I’ve been faithful to you. Do you want me to say it? You know how I feel about you.” He rushes out of bed, moving toward me. Pulling me into his arms, I feel so at home when my head leans on his chest. The rapidly beating heart of his matches my own. He lowers his head as I tilt mine up.

  “Lina, you are all I know. All I ever want to know and will ever know. No other woman … No one will ever have my heart. Everything I have done in my life, it was all for you,” he murmurs against my lips.

  He left me for another woman−one he will be seeing as soon as he’s done with me.

  “I don’t expect …” I pull away, and only a few inches remain between us.

  “I love you, Lina.”

  I do a double take.

  “What? What did you just say?” Unsure of the words he uttered a few moments ago. The last time he said those words I was half asleep, believing it was just a dream. Those words never escaped his lips since then.

  He studies my anxious face for what seems like an eternity before confessing, “I told you I’ve been crazy for you all my life. I love you. I love you with all that I am. I have always loved you. Only you. I just never thought I was worthy of you. I’ll never be worthy of you. But I refuse to be without you anymore.”

  Stunned by his words, my mouth remains open, but I’m unable to say anything.

  Thirty-Four

  “I… I love you, Lina. Do you hear me? I. Fucking. Love. You. This,” he says with a hoarse voice while pointing at his heart, “this is so much more than love. I live for you. I would have died a long time ago, and when I saw you a few months ago, standing in the rain, in front of your house, I felt joy. I felt sad. I felt, period. I fucking watched you in Santa Monica for months before calling you. Hell, I may as well admit it now. I’ve loved you from afar for years. You were always with me. My only regret in life is not coming after you sooner.” He drops to his knees, his hands folded as if he were praying. “As cliché as it may sound, I need you like I need air to breathe. I need to hold you. You’re the first thing I want to see when I wake up and the last I want to see at night. My days need to begin and end with you. Foolish me, I actually believed you felt the same.”

  Although he’s the man I love, whatever we have needs to end. How can I ignore that Shira is waiting for him in London? How can I ignore he lied to me? How can I ignore he hasn’t asked me to join him?

  I remember the way he left me fourteen years ago. I remember the way he left me the day after my birthday.

  He’ll leave you again.

  I can’t let him break me. Trying to preserve my heart, I say, “There’s too much history with Andrew, and I can’t let that go. But more than anything … I … I’m also afraid this is something you think you want and in a few months” −my breathing hitches when I admit−“you’ll realize you don’t want me anymore. Where would that leave me?”

  My eyes wander, refusing to look at the man before me. “Lina, look at me. That’s just it with Andrew, history. Why are you doing this?”

  My lips tighten as not to fall apart. Taking a deep breath, I confess, “I can’t pretend everything is okay.”

  Stealing my hand, he brings it to his heart, allowing me to feel it rapidly beating. “I’m here before you without pretense. When I look at you, I see my future. I envision possibilities I have never imagined before. All I ask of you is to let me love you.”

  He’s going to love me yet continue to see other women?

  I release my hand from his
hold, taking a step back. “I know about Shira.”

  “What about her?” he asks before slowly rising from his kneeling position.

  It takes everything in me to ask. “Did you see Shira a few days after my birthday?”

  Julian bows his head, his eyes darting away from mine. “Yes.”

  I move an inch closer to him. I rise on my tiptoes and cup his chin. “You lied to me. You told me you didn’t leave me to be with her. I can handle only so much. Lying is not one of them. You see, Julian. I’ll never be enough.” All my strength wavers, unable to prevent the onset of tears. I now find myself banging his chest. “I saw a photo of the two of you. Two days after my birthday. I know you only offered me one night.” Breaking down, I sob. “You can fool yourself into believing that I’ll be enough for you, but that’s not true. You left me for her right after I had given myself to you. Don’t you know?” I begin to hiccup. “I had never ever surrendered myself to anyone the way I gave myself to you. I never loved Andrew the way I love you. You broke my heart, Julian. You broke me.”

  “Lina−”

  I close my eyes tightly before admitting, “I wonder if you would be here if the circumstances had been different. If your father never had a heart attack, would you have returned? ” I shake my head. “No, don’t answer that. I actually don’t want to know. You’ve left me too many times. No more, Julian. ”

  “Please believe me, I didn’t leave you to be with her. I had to go to London.”

  “Bullshit. Don’t make excuses for leaving me.”

  “I’m not making excuses. I’m being honest.”

  I remain silent as my body shakes.

  “I was stupid and childish for being with her the night of my father’s party. But I wanted you to be jealous. I wanted you to feel something for me, even if it was out of jealousy. I needed to see if you could feel something after all these years.” He rubs his temple. “I’ve watched you love another man−a man who was never worthy of you−for years. And I’ve … I’ve fucked so many women without having to give any piece of myself to them. I’m with you once, and you own all of me. I couldn’t even fuck another woman after our first night. I beg you, please look at me. I did not fuck her. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Lina, please, please believe me, I didn’t fuck Shira. I haven’t been with anyone since our first night together. I … I don’t want anyone else. I can’t be with anyone else since you. I can’t be without you. You. You, you alone, own me. In every woman I have been with, I was searching for you.”