The Terms Duet

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The Terms Duet Page 38

by Rowe, Ruby


  “I won’t let him down. He’s giving Liam and Camilla a life most girls only dream about.”

  I’m quiet until we reach the tattoo shop. Ellis doesn’t need to tell me that I shouldn’t spend time alone with Sasha. I know it, but I’m a selfish prick, and my conscience will tolerate the guilt while I enjoy my time with her.

  Sasha

  “Your pain face is too funny,” I say to Greyson over the sound of the tattoo gun.

  “Stop. I already have to accept I’m a candy-ass. I don’t need you teasing me for it.”

  I giggle, and the male tattoo artist laughs, but then my eyes stray from Greyson’s face to his body, and I’m distracted in an instant.

  His shirt is off, and I’m appreciating his 5:00 a.m. workouts. Maybe I should consider exercising myself, but I’m thinking in the evening would be a better fit for me. His body … I could lick Pixy Stix sugar right off those rock-hard muscles.

  I can’t believe I’ve found a man I want to touch while I’m not high, but maybe the fact I can’t touch him is why I fantasize about it. I know it’s not going to happen, so I feel a bit safer.

  “What are you thinking about, Ladybug?” My eyes flit to his, and he’s exposing his sexy dimples. Damn, I’m busted. OK, I’ll play.

  “I was thinking how I’d like a juicy popsicle to suck on right now. I really like them.”

  Swallowing, his smile recedes. “Girl, that’s not funny. I’m on to you.”

  The young artist smirks but never looks up.

  “What?” I ask innocently. His fixed gaze transforms to hungry and determined. I’m chained to it as he transmits his desire to ravish me. Through the turquoise of his eyes, I see the fantasies and feel his urges. The words from his lips aren’t necessary.

  Oh, no.

  “I need to use the restroom.” Darting to the lobby, I search for the bathroom.

  I slam the door closed behind me and squeeze the handle with my sweaty hands. I want to believe it’ll protect me from him, but I know the truth. I’ll go back for more since the punishment is worth the high.

  After I wet my face with a damp paper towel, I leave the room. Greyson is paying the artist at the counter in the lobby, and I see him hand the man a wad of cash.

  “You missed the end result,” he says to me.

  “Sorry, you can show me later.” We stroll to the Rolls-Royce, and since the tattoo is on his right shoulder blade, he winces as he leans back against his seat.

  “Why did you choose a mountain and eagle?”

  “They represent freedom.” Starting the car, he looks over at me. I’m staring straight ahead, but after a few seconds of having his eyes on me, I steal a glimpse of him. “I want to show you something,” he says. “It’s something no other soul knows about.”

  “You want to share it with me?”

  “Yeah, I do. I have a feeling you’ll appreciate it and understand it more than anyone else.”

  Intrigued, I quirk an eyebrow. “If you’re sure, then I’m down for it.”

  “We’ll have to take a drive, and we’ll stop for food on the way.”

  “You have me curious.” Sinking down in the seat, my mind dwells on all the possibilities of where we could be going, but I come up with nothing. All I know is I feel more vulnerable than ever if he’s sharing something this private with me.

  ***

  “We’re almost there,” Greyson says. “You’ve been quiet since we stopped at the store. Actually, you’ve been different since you ran off to the restroom at the tattoo parlor. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

  “Why do you have to say such honest shit?”

  “It’s who I am, so tell me why.”

  I sigh. “OK. Why do you look at me like I’m more than a blip on your radar? I’m Podunk, whereas you’re like a tropical island or Times Square in New York. Hell, you probably own an island.”

  He laughs. “I don’t own an island, but that’d be cool. Seriously, Sasha, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, I do but it’s not accurate.”

  “You’re handsome, wealthy, educated, and it sounds like women throw themselves at you, so the fact you want to spend time with me makes me wonder who’s kidding who here.”

  “Don’t do this.” He glowers. “Don’t act like you don’t matter. Rhonda told me you’re overqualified for your position. That means you’re capable of doing a more challenging job or getting a college degree if you want it.

  “You’re funny, kind and beautiful, too, and once you believe it, more people will. Then, more opportunities will come your way.”

  I break our gaze, wishing I believed what he said, but it’s contradictory to how I was treated in the past. Only Camilla held on to hope that I’d amount to something, and I’ve disappointed her more times than I could count.

  Greyson turns onto a long gravel driveway, and I see a cabin in the distance. “Pity parties are my least favorite to attend, so liven up, Ladybug. I’m about to show you my favorite place.” He parks in front of a small log cabin.

  “This is yours?”

  “Yep.”

  “And I’m the only soul you’ve told about it?”

  “Correct.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “You’re weird.”

  Finding my smile, I poke him in the shoulder.

  “No, your weird.”

  “I’ve concluded we’re both a little weird. Now, come on so I can show you around.”

  Grabbing the grocery bags, we head inside the cabin. I’m surprised over how small the kitchen and living room are, and I have a strong suspicion there’s only one bedroom, too. Setting my bags on the counter, I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans.

  “It’s quaint and reminds me of cabins in the Carolinas.”

  “I know it’s small, but that’s how I wanted it. It’s my refuge, and I plan to keep it that way.”

  I stroll over to the picture window and gasp from the view of the mountains. There’s a door to a deck, and I can’t resist walking out onto it to suck in the crisp air. Earth is what I smell, and a cool breeze is what I savor on my skin.

  “Breathtaking … I love it here,” I whisper.

  “So do I,” Greyson says as he comes up behind me. I jump from his presence, and I can’t look back at him. All I can focus on is the view before me. Low-hanging clouds shroud some of the rocky slopes, but the peaks stand tall above them.

  “What do you think of the view?”

  “It’s as if the trees are kneeling before their king … the way they line the basin.”

  From right behind me, Greyson grips my biceps. I flinch again but don’t pull away as he leans his head over against mine.

  “Sasha … I knew you’d see it the way I do.” I open my dry mouth to speak, but words won’t come out. Slowly, he turns me to face him. His hands cup my cheeks, his thumb skims across my lips, and I tremble uncontrollably in the process. “I want to kiss you.”

  “I–I don’t think that’s possible.”

  “That I want to or that I can?”

  “I won’t be able to handle you kissing me.” Looking to the door, I picture myself running.

  “Now, I’m more confused. Handle it as in you’d like it too much or would be repulsed by it?”

  Glancing back at him, I roll my eyes.

  “I don’t believe kissing you could be repulsive.”

  “Explain, weirdo.”

  Stifling a giggle, I slap his chest. “Don’t make me laugh because then you’ll think it’s OK for you to kiss me, which will result in me ruining your perfect place. I don’t want to create a bad memory for you at your special hideaway.”

  “So, what you’re saying is I’ll be repulsed by kissing you.”

  “Why do you have to be so charming?”

  “Why are you putting up a fight?”

  Humor vanishes from my existence, and my iron wall goes up.

  “Because fighting a man off is all I’ve known.” I stomp back in the house and head straight to the fro
nt door. I don’t know where I’m going, but it’ll be far away from here. Greyson grabs my arm about the time I reach the door.

  “Stop running from me, and tell me why you’re fighting this.”

  “You want to know why? I’ll tell you two reasons. One, because unless I’m high, fighting a man off me is all I know to do when he touches me. Second …” I grab my hips and shake my head. “Wait, I shouldn’t have to tell you the second. You’re getting married, Greyson. Married.”

  “Maybe I won’t.”

  “I never dreamed my entire future balanced on the cliff of a maybe.”

  “That means you see me as a possible future.”

  “No, I see you as an impossible future. An unattainable future. A broken heart is what I see when I think of you and my future.”

  “I hear Whitney’s spending her time with another man. His name’s Sebastian, and he’s who she wants.” Pulling me to him, Greyson grips my chin. “I want you, and I believe you want me, too.”

  “That doesn’t change the other issue I have.”

  “No, but you trust me, or you wouldn’t be living in my house, so that means I can fix the other issue.”

  “I’ll stay, but I need time to consider the kiss.”

  “That’s not a no.”

  “Let’s cook dinner; I’m hungry.”

  “Of course you are.” He winks, and my insides turn all gooey. It’s going to be impossible to resist Greyson’s sexiness. I want him to kiss me. I do more than ever, but I don’t know how I’ll feel once he begins. Maybe I’ll brave a chance to find out.

  Greyson

  Sasha and I are sitting on the deck after dinner. While we cooked cheeseburgers, I wooed her with my charm, and after we ate, a food fight ensued with the toppings.

  Best time ever.

  “I could sit out here all night, but we need music,” she says.

  “I can make that happen. I have vinyl.”

  “Really? My parents had a record player.” She hops to her feet, ready to see my stash of albums. “I loved setting the needle down and waiting through the pause for that first sound.”

  I start to shake my head but stop myself. She gets me without even trying. We go inside, and remembering the player and albums are in my bedroom, I decide it’s best to bring them out to the living room.

  “You didn’t have to move them.”

  I shrug. “We’ll hear the music better on the deck.”

  “Oh, right.” She flips through the albums. “You have oldies here.”

  “There’s no other way to do vinyl.”

  She hands me an album. “I know this band. Camilla said my parents would play it before their drinking turned to drug use and their drug use ruined our lives.”

  “Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band’s Stranger in Town. Uh, are you sure you’re OK with listening to it?”

  “Yep.” She heads back outside, and although her parents suck, I’m pleased she shared with me about her past. She then bailed, not wanting me to pry, but that’s OK. She’ll tell me when she’s ready, and if that means a little at a time, I can live with that.

  Sitting next to each other in my lounge chairs, we stare at the view and talk. The sun is setting, and the sky has morphed from blue to saffron.

  “I wonder what it’s like to see a band perform live,” she says.

  “What? You’ve been to a concert, right?”

  “No, Camilla and I didn’t have money to spend on things like that.”

  “Unbelievable… You have to attend a concert. I lost count of the artists I’ve seen.”

  Her eyes light up. “I really want to see Justin Bieber or Bruno Mars since they can dance.”

  “I’m taking you to a concert, girl. I’m going to pop your concert cherry, but Bieber can’t be the third in this threesome.” She giggles, and I love seeing her smile. She’s gorgeous.

  Her hair is healthier, and her skin and the gold in her honey-brown eyes glow. Her body has filled out from consuming more calories, and her curves are in all the right places. Needing to be closer to her, I stand and hold out my hand. “Dance with me.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Bullshit, I catch you dancing all the time.”

  “But I was doing it solo.”

  “Please, dance with me.” “We’ve Got Tonight” begins to play, and there couldn’t be a better song for us. She stands, and her hand is trembling as I take it into mine.

  I pull her close, but she stiffens, so I gradually move one of her arms up around my neck while I gaze at her. “You can trust me. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

  She places her other arm around my neck, and I feel victorious yet again for gaining her trust. We sway to the song, and as I listen to the lyrics, I panic over the future.

  The song reminds me that we may only have tonight together. This might be the closest I ever get to her, right here in this moment.

  “I like dancing with you,” she says as she looks up at me. Something’s different now. Her eyes are alluring, her long lashes batting as she looks at me seductively. “I think I want you to kiss me.”

  Hell. Yes.

  I have this feeling I’m getting one shot at this, so I can’t fuck it up. Stopping our movement, I stare down at her.

  “Close your eyes, and stand still. I’m turning your I think into a yes.” Her breath hitches as she prepares for me to kiss her. She fails to stay still as I press my lips to the corner of her mouth.

  “I won’t hurt you, Sasha.” I press them to the tip of her nose next and the other corner of her mouth. “Do you want me to kiss you, Ladybug?”

  “Yes,” she whispers. Cautiously and gently, I kiss her. I repeat it, alternating between the corners of her mouth and her quivering lips.

  They’re soft and plump, and I’m dying for more. I inch her closer, and I’m surprised when she opens her mouth to let my tongue inside.

  Cradling the back of her head, I deepen our kiss and groan as our tongues tangle for the first time. She whimpers in response, the heat from her hum filling my mouth, and it takes all my strength to go slow.

  I imagine carrying her to my bed and burying myself deep inside her. Fuck, I don’t want to give her up. Tonight’s not enough.

  She pulls back and sucks in air before she gifts me a wide–fucking–grin that’s more breathtaking than the mountains ever could be.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  “You’re welcome. I’ve never been thanked for a kiss.” Leaving one arm around my neck, she clutches my shirt and stares at it.

  “Since I was fourteen, I haven’t kissed a guy without being high or drunk. You’re the first.”

  “See, I’d make a great sponsor.” Her head falls over, and her body bounces against mine as laughter thaws my frigid heart.

  I’m curious what the age of fourteen has to do with her confession, but at the same time, I believe the truth could be ugly, and nothing ugly is going to mess up this moment.

  Ending her laughter, she rests her head on my chest.

  “I can’t sleep with you, Greyson.”

  “I know. I’ve been selfish long enough.” I stroke her hair, which is cool to the touch from the evening breeze.

  “I want to, and you have no idea what that says about you, but my sobriety wouldn’t survive it afterward if you ended up with someone else.”

  As the heavy darkness of reality returns, I kiss her head.

  “Let’s go home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Ellis

  Answering the front door, I let Greyson and Sasha inside. He looks irritated, whereas she’s grinning like she won the lottery.

  “Hi,” I say. Camilla and Liam join us in the hall to greet them.

  “Sasha!” Liam runs to her, and she swoops him up into her arms to hug him.

  “I’ve missed you, Mikey, and I swear you keep growin’ and growin’.”

  “I know. I’m getting so, so big. I’m going to be tall like Boss-Daddy.”

&n
bsp; Greyson and Sasha both quirk an eyebrow.

  “Boss-Daddy?” he asks. “I have no words.”

  “Sasha, would you take Liam to the backyard? He wants to show you his jungle gym. I’ll be out in a minute,” Camilla says.

  “Sure. You have a jungle gym?” Sasha asks excitedly while grinning at Liam.

  “Yes, and you can play on it, too.”

  “OK, you lead the way.”

  They wander off, and I know what’s about to happen. I’ve had to hear it from Camilla for the last two hours, and seeing her pissed doesn’t sit well with me. Greyson better listen good today.

  She fists her hips. “Greyson, I like and respect you. I really do, and I couldn’t be more grateful for all you’ve done for Sasha, but you’re crossing a line with her. She’s fragile, and Ellis told you when she was moving in not to touch her.”

  “We’re only friends.”

  “So, friends make out?”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “She called me this morning. She said you two were spending the weekend together and that you kissed her. She likes you and is sick over you marrying Whitney.”

  Greyson grabs the back of his neck. “I only planned to be a friend to her, but since she’s living and working with me, I’ve gotten to know her, and I can’t help but like her.”

  “OK, but she can’t be your mistress. If you’re going to marry Whitney, then don’t spend unnecessary time with my sister.” Camilla tears up. “She can’t end up with someone like Rusty again, doing drugs in some crack house. She could end up dead next time.”

  Greyson points at his chest. “I only want what’s best for her, Camilla. She’s not some secret side piece.”

  “If that’s true, then back the hell off before she falls in love with you and gets her heart shattered.” Camilla storms away, and Greyson drags his hands down his face.

  “Is this why you wouldn’t wait for us to have dinner tomorrow?”

  “I’ve had to listen to that for the last two hours, so it was only fair that you heard it, too. Let’s go to the family room, and I’ll fix you a drink.”

 

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