by Cecy Robson
It’s what I believe. So why does it I feel like I’m losing my right arm in one slow torturous pull?
Because she’s a part of you, asshole, I tell myself. No matter how many times I remind myself that I’m nothing but toxic to her, there it is. I don’t want to be without her.
She slides back in, reaching for her seatbelt and snapping it in place without a glance my way. If she was anyone else, I’d call her an Uber. No way would I drive her home. But she’s not some skank who’s trying to take a swing or asking me to buy her shit. She’s Aedry. A woman who deserves respect.
She wants to be my everything, she claims. She can’t see she already is.
I ease out of my spot carefully and pull onto the main road. Again, we drive in silence. Again, it eats at me all the way to her neighborhood. I find a spot almost at the end of the block. The minute I set my ride in park she opens the door, walking toward the front of her building without saying goodbye or bothering to see if I’ll follow.
I cut the engine, flinging the door shut behind me and stalking forward. I slow my steps when I realize she’s not in a rush. She unlocks the door as I reach her, allowing it to fall behind her as she steps inside the foyer.
I catch it before it closes. She didn’t exactly hold it open, but she didn’t slam it behind her, either. I’m not sure what she’s up to. All I know is that I’m getting pissed.
“You can stay here if you want,” I tell her. “But I’m walking you to your door.”
She strolls ahead as if I didn’t just growl at her. “Suit yourself.”
I storm forward, following her as she hops up the steps. Any other day, I’d have my arm around her and she’d be glued to my side. I force myself to keep my stride relaxed, even though by now I’m ready to rip someone’s throat out.
With her carefree pace, and the way she neglects her environment, anyone could attack her. Safe neighborhood or not, she needs to be careful.
“You need to watch your surroundings. Anyone can come up and grab you,” I snarl, angry that this is what she does when I’m not around and even more furious that I won’t be at her side anymore to protect her.
She glances over her shoulder as she reaches her apartment, her gaze indifferent as it passes along my form. “Oh, I doubt that,” she says, turning back to unlock the deadbolt.
“I mean if I weren’t here,” I say, trying to keep from yelling. “Decent area or not, we’re a short drive from a city infected with pervs and maniacs waiting for the opportunity to assault you.”
“Mmm,” she says, nodding.
It’s as if what I’m saying isn’t important. I follow her inside, throwing the door closed behind me and flicking the lock. “Look, Adrianna. You can be mad at me all you want for speaking the truth. That doesn’t mean you get to be careless, or that I want anything to happen to you.”
She places her keys and purse on the counter and shrugs out of her coat, hanging it on the hook by the door in this tiny-ass apartment. “Is that what you were doing?” she asks, slipping out of her boots, and socks. “Speaking the truth? Like you always do, right?”
My muscles tense as she throws what I said in my face. I don’t know if she’s seen through all the lies I’ve told her about Vin, or the lies I told her today about how I feel. But when she pulls her sweater over her head, I still for different reasons. Her dark hair brushes against her shoulders as she wiggles out of her jeans and her hips swing as she strolls into the bathroom.
She’s wearing those shiny brown panties she just bought, the ones that are nothing more but a strip of cloth across her ass. They give a glimpse of her sweet body, especially when she bends―shit―like she’s doing now as she flips on the water to her shower.
“What are you doing?” I rumble, feeling myself get hard.
She keeps her back to me as she unsnaps her bra. “Getting a shower,” she explains, like I’m a moron.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and scrunch my eyes closed. I all but shoved her away today―gave her every reason to walk away when she told me she loved me and I didn’t say shit back―rejected her as if she hasn’t been good to me―as if she didn’t turn my world upside down―or become the woman I’d cut my own heart out to protect.
My hand falls away in time to see her panties drop to her ankles. She pauses as she pulls aside the transparent curtain. “If you want to leave, leave,” she says, her voice tight. “Lock the door behind you and toss your key in my mail slot. I won’t make you stay if you don’t want me.”
She steps into the tub, the cascade of water soaking her naked form as steam rises to the ceiling. I stand there, taking in what she tells me and mesmerized by the way she passes her hands along the skin that felt like silk beneath my touch.
I did this to her. I denied everything she offered, including her love. This is what I told her I wanted, right?
I replay every damn detail of our time together, knowing that life without her is the last thing I want. She’s telling me to walk, giving me an out, because this is the hand I forced her to play. But as much as I think I should, I can’t leave her.
Just like I can’t keep my hands off her.
She steps out of the shower like I’m not there and no longer exist, passing a thick white towel along her face, hair, and curves before wrapping it around her body and edging toward the sink. She pauses in front of the mirror. At first, I think she’s going to say something, but instead she reaches for a comb to pass through her thick hair.
Like I said, I don’t know what she’s up to. All I know, is that I’m done watching.
She finishes combing her hair. I march forward and lift the bottle of lotion she reaches for out of her hands. The hitch of her breath when I nip her neck is her only acknowledgment of me, that and the way her eyelids lower as I glide the lotion across her skin.
My hands . . . they’re not as fast as I want to be. They pass along her shoulders and arms like a slow dance between my palms and her skin. I fall to my knees, feeling the muscles of her toned legs tense as I massage up, and down, and further up until my spread fingers cup her ass.
Part of me thinks I should stop, that she may not want what I’m doing to her. But the soft moan she releases as I slip my hands beneath the towel and knead her ass tells me that at least for now, she doesn’t want me to leave. I yank the towel off her in one hard tug. It falls in front of me as she grips the edges of her sink, her body shuddering as I pry her legs apart and take my first lick.
My face buries deep and my tongue probes, thickening my staff so it bulges painfully against my jeans. She gasps with each flick I give her throbbing center, each pull of her sweet flesh, her hips circling as I spread her thighs further.
Her increasing moans and the way her thighs tremble tell me she’s peaking, she’s almost there. I go faster, needing to hear her release. I expect her to come in that way she always does for me, with her back and neck arching, and her screams of pleasure releasing through clenched teeth. Just as she starts, she stumbles away from me and into the hall.
I clasp the edge of the sink, gliding my tongue over my lips. “Where are you going?” I ask, my voice as rough as crushing stone.
Aedry’s eyes glaze with lust. She clutches the counter behind her, appearing to struggle to keep her balance. Her breath releases in short bursts and her skin is flushed. “What are you trying to do to me?” she asks.
I rise arduously, my erection stabbing and clenching my pelvis. But I don’t answer.
She shakes her head, the motion batting her small breasts and drawing attention to their tight centers. “If you didn’t want me, I’d understand,” she says, her voice quivering and her focus lowering to the large mass behind my zipper. “But you do―”
I don’t feel myself move, I’m just suddenly there, my body shoved against hers. “It’s not that I don’t want you,” I tell her. “And you know it.”
She tilts her chin, capturing my gaze. “Then prove it,” she says.
I know what she’s asking. I�
��m ready to tell her no, point out all the countless fucking reasons I shouldn’t rip off my jeans and push inside her. But before I can ease away, she wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me softly and in a way that makes me feel every bit of her pain, fear, love.
“Make love to me,” she begs between kisses. “Please.”
She should be reaching into my jeans or rubbing herself against me to get me to give her what she wants. But what she’s doing to me—everything she’s making me feel—makes me want her more.
It’s like all the hate and anger leaves me at once, all the poison infecting my body dripping from my pores and vanishing into the air. But it’s the guilt over everything that I’ve seen and done since working for Vin that stays, keeping me from acting.
My fingers fasten against the counter on either side of her as I struggle to stay in control. “You don’t want this,” I bite out. “Not from me.”
I try to keep my face averted. But Aedry’s done with my excuses and she’s done waiting. She nibbles her way along my jaw. “You’re wrong,” she whispers, slipping her tongue in my ear.
I don’t stand a chance, not with how she’s holding me like I might break.
“I love you,” she says, clutching me tighter. “Show me you love me, too.”
I shouldn’t. But I do, losing my mind to everything she’s making me feel.
I lift her into a straddle and carry her to bed, kissing her hard.
We flop onto the mattress with me on top of her, my hips grinding against hers as my clothes are flung on the floor. I reach between us, rubbing my thick head along her slick center. But as I start to push in, I hesitate and ease away from her.
She clasps my shoulders, her pleading expression holding me in place. “Don’t,” she says, “I need to feel close to you.”
Every tendon in my body constricts against my frame as reason and desire fight it out. I jerk my chin, looking away from the woman I’d give my life for. “I’ll ruin you,” I say, speaking through my clamped jaw.
She caresses my face, drawing my focus. “You’ve only ever made me better,” she tells me quietly. “Help me make you better, too . . .”
God help me, I do.
My chin dips to her neck, my tongue trailing along her throat as I carefully make my way inside her. Aedry’s knees fall open, helping to ease the agonizing push of my hips. Her body seizes mine, clenching me tighter and thickening the lust heating the air.
I want her so much, but I take my time, advancing and stretching her slowly, kissing her softly and gently passing my hands through her hair, along her breasts, and back to that face that always finds its way into my dreams. Her body fastens around mine, grasping me as if afraid to let go. She’s perfect . . . so damned perfect.
I’m not even halfway in when her head lolls to the side and her brows knit taut. “Am I hurting you?” I murmur, kissing the spot behind her ear.
“I’m all right,” she bites out.
“I can stop,” I answer, withdrawing gradually even though every pull away from her kills me.
“No,” she says, her voice barely audible as she pulls me to her. “Please don’t.”
Her mouth finds mine, keeping us joined. I hover over her, torn by what to do. But as she relaxes beneath my touch, I tilt my hips, rocking forward until she and I become one.
She grunts as I withdraw, my thrusts gradual as I take her with care. She’s my beautiful Adriana, my star, my love. I can’t tell her, so I whisper the words in a way she can’t understand.
“Mia bella Adrianna . . . mia stella . . . mia amore.”
I’ve fucked a lot of women. I’ve never cared enough to make love to any of them. Until tonight. Until Aedry. Until everything in my world changed when she told me she loved me . . .
Chapter Seventeen
Aedry
I’m not sure what time it is. All I recognize is that it’s pitch black, I’m in my bed, and I hear Salvatore’s voice.
“I’m staying at Aedry’s tonight,” he says, his deep vibrato like a soft echo in the darkness. “If you’re hungry, get some cash from my drawer and order food . . . No―no . . . no parties, no guests . . . I swear to Christ I’ll beat your asses if I find out you had anyone over . . . What? . . . Yeah, we’re still together . . . She’s fine . . . Apollo, don’t worry, everything’s all right.”
It’s what he claims, but I catch the worry in his voice. I blink my eyes a few times, trying to shake the sleep as my vision adjusts to the darkness. It’s funny how everything can change in a matter of hours. At the festival, we were having so much fun, until Sal pushed me away.
I spent the rest of our trip in absolute misery, doing my best to keep my smile for the boys and my distance from Salvatore. He gave me space, but he wouldn’t leave me completely alone. He’d stand outside each makeshift shop I visited, waiting for me to finish browsing, despite how I barely looked at what was in front of me.
He realized I needed time, and maybe he did, too. But that wedge that grew between us devastated me. He didn’t make an effort to reach for my hand, nor did he speak directly to me. It was as if he’d already moved on, and I was nothing more than a woman he was obliged to take home.
Although I blame myself for discussing such a sensitive subject in public place, I didn’t expect his response. But the way he regarded me when he stroked my cheek, I’ve never felt so adored. I hadn’t been certain about Salvatore’s feelings for me, but I was then, until he once more erected those proverbial walls I’d worked to push through.
My first reaction was hurt at how easily he seemed to dismiss me. Without actually saying the words, he told me to leave if I wasn’t happy with the way things were. But I am happy. I love him and I told him so. I could have chosen better circumstances, but the more I felt him shove me away, the more I needed him to know what he means to me.
My virginity was my gift to him, that final demonstration that he’s who I’ve been saving myself for. A small smile plays along my face as I realize how different he is from the man I’d envisioned myself falling for.
I’d convinced myself my “first” would wear polos and slacks, or perhaps a conservative suit. I was sure he’d be a professor or possibly an attorney, likely because that type was always my draw. I never expected someone so strong, sexy, and dark to fill my heart and make me feel beautiful. Perhaps, that was his gift to me.
I shift beneath the sheets, allowing my hand to skim along my belly. I’m not sure exactly what I expected sex to give me, but I honestly thought it might change me, even a little. But I’m still Aedry and no matter how much I’ve learned over these past few years, I’m still that young woman who drove to the big city from North Carolina.
My hand trails down my belly as I remember how it felt to have him push inside me. He kept each press gentle despite the lust sizzling in his eyes. He wanted to go harder, I could tell by the way the muscles of his shoulders strained as he passed his hands along my body. But he took his time. And that flash of tenderness that lit his eyes when our bodies joined . . . God, it was like a glimpse into his soul.
I tilt onto my side as I hear his fingers tap along his cell phone, my hand stroking his back. He pauses from where he sits naked on the edge of my bed before glancing over his shoulder.
“Hi,” I whisper, so filled with emotion my voice quakes.
He rolls over, the edges of his features wrought with concern as he cups my face. “You okay?” he asks, his thumb sweeping away a tear that escapes.
“I’m fine,” I answer.
His gaze drops briefly as he speaks. “You don’t seem fine,” he says, his frown deepening.
He’s worried he hurt me or that I have regrets, but that’s not case. “Sorry,” I say, swiping another tear. “It’s just . . . I waited a long time for you.”
The way he melds his gaze with mine, I’m unable to draw my next breath. “How do you do that?” he asks.
“Do what?”
“Say all the right things.”
Before
I can deny it, he pulls me to him for a long, lazy kiss. As he inches away, I smile against his lips. “How do you do all the right things?”
My words aren’t meant to upset him, but as I watch, his features turn to stone. “I don’t,” he responds.
I press my palm over his heart, feeling it beat beneath the thick wall of muscle. “You do with me,” I whisper.
“That’s not what it seemed like today.”
“Today wasn’t easy,” I confess. “You made it better by staying with me.” My eyes burn with the words that follow. “But you have to stop pushing me away. I don’t like feeling like I’m someone you can easily discard―”
“You’re not,” he says. He forces a curse through his teeth as he jerks his attention away. “I should have let you go today. But I’m selfish as hell when it comes to you, so I couldn’t, and I did something I maybe shouldn’t have done.”
“Why did you want to let me go?” I ask, my throat tightening. I clasp his shoulder when he tries to ease away. “And why do you regret what we did?”
He squeezes his eyes shut, bowing his head. “Because you’re too good for me,” he bites out, returning the force of his focus on me. “You always have been and you always will be.”
For a brief moment, I can’t move, the weight of his words holding me in place. “I don’t understand why you think that. I only know I don’t like you believing it. You’re my world, Salvatore. I wish I could make you see what you mean to me.”
I don’t wait for him to argue like I know he will, kissing him deeply. For a moment, I’m sure he’ll wrench free from my hold. Instead he gathers me to him, his lips hungry for mine. I surrender to him, ingraining his taste and the feel of his skin into my memory.
His thick staff extends along my belly, making me groan. Yet as I reach for it, he clasps my wrist, keeping me from him. “Did I hurt you?” he asks. “Tell me the truth,” he says, making it clear he won’t let me stroke him until I answer.
