Free Divine by Cait Jarrod

number had been blocked
was over a year ago. A year!
    Heat bloomed from her stomach to her face. Your parents assured me he vanished from your life. She eyed
Cal with distaste and distrust. Her expression must have been grim
since he pulled his hand back. “What have you done?”
    He rested in his chair and drummed his
fingers on the table.
    The nerve!
    “I did what I needed to do,” he said
matter-of-factly, without questioning what she referred to.
    “You blocked Matt’s number?” She grounded out
each syllable. “How dare you!”
    “You think I’d let a man overseas get in the
way of what I want? A man who doesn’t even have a financial
portfolio?”
    “You pompous ass!”
    “He’s no good for you,” Cal said. “You know
it. He doesn’t have the bloodline. He couldn’t honor the Lovett
name.”
    For the first time in her life, her heritage
disappointed her. “I can’t even live up to the Lovett name. And, I
don’t want to!”
    “You can’t be serious.” He chuckled. “Your
own mother doesn’t think Mr. Carson is good enough. Your parents
would toss you out if you married beneath your class. You’d depart
with the money and status for him?”
    Every muscle in her body went slack. She
stared, mouth open. “My mother put you up to this?”
    “Katrina—”
    “It’s Trina!”
    “Keep your voice down,” he barked. “I’m still
willing to make this work. Give us a chance. Think about it, Trina ,” he said the nickname Matt had given her as if he bit
into a sour piece of candy. “We’re right together. We have good
connections. Good bloodline.”
    “Bloodline? Oh great!” She stood. “You’re
comparing me to a canine.”
    “If you walk away from me, I won’t give you a
second chance.”
    She regretted several decisions she’d made.
Dating Cal topped the list. “You’re mistaken. I won’t be giving YOU
the second chance.” Then she added, “Asswipe” just to see Cal
cringe, before marching toward the parking lot.

    Matt stormed into a bar in Georgetown, not
far from where he left Trina with her fiancé. Loud music blasted
his ears; the lights were low. He swept the filled bar, searching
for any available woman. It didn’t matter if her hair was short,
long, blonde or brunette, but definitely not a redhead. No Trina
look-a-likes.
    Two women wearing low cut tops and short
skirts, a brunette and a blonde, beamed and waved him to the bar.
Exactly what he needed—horny women to boost his spirits.
    “May I buy you ladies a beer?” He moved
between them to rest his forearms on the bar.
    The blonde to his right slid her bare toe
along his shin. “Yes.”
    He chuckled and gazed at the brunette, who
sipped a pink frozen substance through a straw. “I’m good.
Thanks.”
    A blonde it was.
    “When you get a chance, two beers, whatever
you have on tap,” he said to the bartender, who wore a nametag
reading JIM, and tossed a twenty on the counter.
    In two shakes, Jim deposited the drinks in
front of them and snatched the money.
    “So,” the blonde said and sidled against him,
pressing her breasts into his arm, “you’re rather spiffy. Hot
date?”
    The band in the far corner changed the beat
to a slow melody.
    He shifted and let her press those delectable
morsels square in his chest. “You’re it.”
    “Oh.” She grinned, drank half her beer, and
stood. “Let’s go dance. Foreplay, if you know what I mean.”
    He did. For the last decade, foreplay and him
had been friends. For what? To learn the woman he craved accepted
another man’s ring? To discover she didn’t wait for him to
return.
    Nothing had come from him staying celibate,
not a damn thing.
    It fucking sucks. He was an idiot. His
gunny called it right when he said he sat on his balls.
    No more. She chose to lose her virginity to
another. He wouldn’t wait any longer. To him, having sex meant
love, not tonight. Tonight he’d get his rocks off.
    He guzzled the beer, enjoying the hell out of
the bite. “I’m