Wedded in Passion
(
Stir Sticks & Stilettos
)
Yvette Hines
This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as
real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. The unauthorized
reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in
print without written permission by the author.
Wedded in Passion
Copyright © 2013 Yvette Hines
Proof Editing: Bernadette Schane
This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If
you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
purchased for your use only, then please return to eStore and
purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of
this author.
Series Note:
I hope you enjoy another
short story edition of the “Stir Sticks & Stilettos” series.
These
little
nuggets of erotic shorts are meant to excite you, at the same
time, give you a little happiness at the end. Stay tuned for the
next stories to follow.
Let no man put asunder…
“
You Bitch!” I grabbed the
woman, now my ex-friend, by the hair and slapped her hard across
the face twice.
Lenzy swung her hands up trying to protect
her face as she screamed. “Katherine…this is not what—”
Straddling the woman’s squirming body, I
smacked her again for the lie she was about to tell. Why was it
that when people were caught they always attempted to tell the
person who caught them it wasn’t what it looked like. “Your naked
ass is in bed with my fiancé. It looks just like what it is.”
“
Katherine, stop…listen.”
The male voice shouted.
Before I could swing on the girl again, I
was grabbed hard around the waist and dragged off her. Going
ballistic, I kicked and thrashed against the arms around me. There
could only be one person holding me and that was the other culprit
in the situation. “Get your damn hands off me.”
Still trying to hold me, as I was attempting
to break away, he said, “We need to talk about—“
Twisting my body, I started at him, feeling
satisfaction as my nails connected with that pretty face of his. He
was a model in New York, it would be hard for him to get gigs
anytime soon with wounds on him. I let out a dry laugh, finally
getting away from him. “Talk? Now you two want to talk! You’re
screwing my friend in the same suite where my room is just on the
other side of the setting area.” Balling my fist I wanted to sink
it deep into his face. I wasn’t a violent person. Had never had a
fight in my life, but at the moment I just wanted to beat the hell
out of both of them. “You are a self-centered jackass.”
He stood there in nothing but his jeans,
still open, as he tried to wipe the blood from his face.
“Katherine, this meant nothing.”
“
Nothing?” I threw my
hands wide to encompass the room where I just caught them having
sex.
“
Nothing?” Lenzy called
out behind me.
I turned around and aimed a look at the
tramp that had Lenzy closing her mouth. I know she didn’t have the
nerve to be offended. “I trusted you, Lenzy. Even when everyone
said you were nothing but an opportunist. You’re nothing but a
whore. How could I be so stupid as to have you as my maid of
honor?”
“
Look, Katherine—” Michael
tried to take my hand.
“
Don’t
touch me,” I said, shaking him off.
He held his hands up. “You weren’t supposed
to be here. This was just a simple good-bye.” His mouth pulled up
in the corners and he had the audacity to try one of his
million-dollar ad smiles on me.
“
Good-bye?” I looked from
Michael to Lenzy. “How long has this been going on?”
Lenzy scrambled from the bed as she held the
sheet around her. “Not at all. This is only the second time. You
know Michael and I know each other from the industry and we hooked
up a couple years ago on Valentine’s Day.”
Valentine’s Day two years
ago? If a car had run into me I would not have been more stunned.
“The night before you brought him to my house for breakfast because
he was the
perfect
guy for me?”
“
Well, you weren’t dating
then,” Lenzy defended as she tossed her cinnamon colored weave over
her shoulder.
“
That’s your damn excuse.”
Grabbing the long skirt of my wedding dress, I backed up, shaking
my head. “I don’t even want to know at what point you had the damn
bright idea to hook me up with him. I’ve been a stupid fool for two
years.”
“
No, Katherine. We are
good together. Tomorrow when you become my wife this will be
history.”
“
Your wife? Hell, no! I’m
not walking with you anywhere unless it is to take your body to the
morgue.” Snatching the two carat round diamond off my finger, I
threw it at his feet. I hoped he’d make the mistake of stepping on
it and shattering it.
“
Katherine…Katherine…
don’t do this. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.” Lenzy stepped to me
with her hand stretched forward.
I backed further toward the door shaking my
head. “If you touch me, I’ll break each of your fingers off and
feed them to you.”
The other woman’s eyelids stretched wide as
she snatched her hand back.
“
Stop all this, Katherine.
We all just need to sit down and talk.” He came forward.
“
No. No!” I turned,
needing to get out of the room and away from them. I ran through
the suite and out the door.
A fool. I had been a damn fool. For two
years, I had given up so much of my life, besides my job as
marketing specialist. While dating Michael, the insecure ass, I had
spent all my free time with him or traveling with him on his
assignments.
“
Katherine…wait,” Michael
yelled.
I whirled around in the
middle of the hall and screamed, “Stop calling me Katherine…I’ve
told you a million times over I
hate
that name. It makes me sound
like an old lady.”
Halting, Michael looked at me oddly for a
moment. As if the words were new to him.
They weren’t. Turning, I continued on. I was
thankful the elevator opened before he got down the hall. I stepped
in and pushed the close door button double time. I pressed the
button for the lobby, not knowing where else to go. Hopefully,
there would be a room available.
Ah, hell, all of my family and friends were
staying in the hotel.
I could go to my parents’ room, but I didn’t
feel like an ‘I told you so’ speech. Mom and Dad had hated Michael
from the first moment I brought him home to meet them. Dad was a
political science professor so he enjoyed vigorous debates and
intellectual conversations. Michael provided neither of those.
My ex only concerned himself with fashion,
parties and indoor activities such as racquetball, swimming and
running on an inside track.
Michael is a selfish ass.
Now enclosed in the elevator, I realized I
was shaking all over. My throat felt as if someone had a vise grip
around it as I fought the urge to cry. I would not allow a single
tear to drop over that jerk.
Seeing myself reflected in the shiny metal,
I looked like even more of a fool. Garbed a day early in my wedding
dress, my hair pulled back in the French roll I had been wearing
all day. I was disgusted.
The elevator chimed, flashing the number one
as it came to a gentle stop. A second before the doors slid open I
sent up a quick prayer that there would not be a member of my
family or any of the wedding guests in the lobby.
When the doors parted, my breath caught in
my chest as the one person who could make me feel even more like an
idiot was standing before me. Char Randle.
“
I must be late for the
wedding,” he said. Char, whose real name was Charles, stood six
two, that had not changed. But the nerdish guy I’d grown up with
was long gone. His medium golden brown locks that used to hang in
shaggy locks around his head were now cut neat and comb away from
his face. The new style allowed an unobstructed view of his
sincere, soft fawn-brown eyes. Eyes no longer hidden behind
wire-rimmed glasses. Char had become a hunk.
“
Um…no.” That was the only
thing that came out of my mouth before the tears I had refused to
let go moments before came streaming down my cheeks. Shit I hated
crying. It always made me feel weak and hopeless.
“
Oh, Katy…why the
tears?”
In two seconds I was wrapped in Char’s
strong arms.
“
Sorry, this elevator is
full.” He called out to whoever had been waiting in the
lobby.
I couldn’t see past his broad shoulders that
shielded me from onlookers.
“
Tell me what’s wrong.”
His hand rubbed along my back.
I shook my head, not knowing if I could
reveal my humiliation to the one person I truly abandoned for the
asshole in my suite.
“
You want me to take you
back to your room?”
Stepping away from him, I wiped my face and
pulled myself back together. “Heavens, no. Anywhere but there. I
don’t want to see anyone right now.”
He gave her a raised eyebrow.
“
You’re fine.” She smiled
and waved her hand. Char could always do that. He could always make
her smile even when she was feeling horrible.
Leaning over, he pushed the button for the
seventh floor. “Then I will take you to my room. I doubt if anyone
will look for you there.”
Moving a little further away, I pressed my
back against the wall then leaned my head back. Closing my eyes for
a brief moment, finding it hard to look at my friend of so many
years. Guilt was eating at my core.
The old saying floated through my mind that
‘you never push friends aside for lovers because when things go
wrong your friends are who you would need to turn to’. That was so
true. Here I was dependent on Char like when we were younger.
When I opened my eyes, I was caught in his
gaze. He held mine for a moment then his gaze traveled along the
length of my gown.
I wondered what he thought as he assessed me
in my Signature Galina. I had fallen in love with the dress the
moment I saw the soft gown with its ruched bodice and embellished
beaded neckline that continued over one shoulder. When I had stood
in the mirror at the bridal store, I had believed that the sultry
charmeuse fabric draped along my new curves just right. Hell, I had
dieted for six strict months to have them.
Feeling self-conscious under his inspection,
I stood up straighter and made sure my bare feet were hidden
beneath the hem.
Michael had originally stated he loved my
thick curves when we met. That my body was different from the
emaciated models he was around all the time.
I shook my head. They had been empty words.
As soon as we’d gotten engaged he’d begun pointing out all my
flaws—from my style of dress to my weight. He wanted me in heels
and small tight dresses all the time and never without make-up.