Anthony: Signature Sweethearts Book Seven

by Rae, Kelsie

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” I chuckle. “Come on. Our hotel is right up here.”

  Sway leans into my side, surprising me with her open affection after she clammed up at dinner at the mention of a relationship. There’s something that’s nagging at me about her response anytime I bring it up, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. I’ve never been so curious about someone’s motives in my entire life. This girl is pretty damn perfect, and the more time I spend around her, the more I find myself yearning for the opportunity to call her mine. To prove to her how great we could be if she gave me a real shot, instead of a few stolen kisses to pass the time.

  But it’s clear that she’s only interested in one thing, and I’m not about to screw up the only thing she’s willing to give me. Even when it’s slowly turning my insides into pulverized meat.

  When we reach the hotel, I lead Sway to the elevator and press the button to our floor. Once we’ve reached it, we head to our room to find our duffle bags tucked in the entryway. Sway picks hers up.

  “I have a little surprise for you. I’ll be back in a few.” She walks to the bathroom before softly closing the door behind her.

  Taking a seat on the edge of the king-sized bed, I remove my shoes then start to unbutton my pants with the intention of slipping on some sweats when I hear the door open.

  I look over and find Sway leaning against the wall in a set of black, lacy lingerie that hugs her curves and narrow waist. My mouth waters, and my hands twitch at my sides, begging me to go to her and touch each and every inch of skin on display.

  Her mouth curves up as she says in her silky, sweet voice, “Like what you see, Anthony?”

  I growl low in my throat, “Get your ass over here, Swayze Girl.”

  With a smirk, she pops out her hip and crosses her arms, which only seems to accentuate her damn cleavage. “And if I don’t?”

  Pushing up from the mattress, I saunter over and press myself into her before lifting my hands and planting my palms against the wall on either side of her head. “You want to play a game, Sway?”

  Her teeth dig into her lower lip as she nods. “Maybe.”

  “I thought you were tired,” I counter, grinding my hips into her. Her lids flutter slightly, and her mouth opens on a gasp, but she stays strong.

  “Nope. Just horny.”

  I laugh. “Is that all I’m good for, Swayze Girl?”

  Her eyes dim before blazing with heat. “Maybe.” Then she kisses me with so much lust and passion, it almost erases the sadness in her tone––and the knife that was shoved into my chest from her honesty. With a groan, I press my torso against hers, gluing us from head to toe as her little hands slide up my back, taking my shirt along with them before she pulls the thin cotton over my head and tosses it to the floor.

  Fumbling with the zipper of my jeans, my pants come off next, then I’m lifting her and walking toward the bed like a man on a mission. Even if this is all I’ll ever be to Sway, I’ll make the most of each and every opportunity to prove to her that we could be so much more. I just hope she hears my silent plea to let me make her mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sway

  After another mind-blowing session in the sheets, we fell asleep in each other’s arms then woke up and headed over to Pier 33. Spontaneously, of course. It also happens to be the pier dedicated to the transportation of tourists who want to visit Alcatraz, the famous prison located on its own island in the center of the bay.

  “And on your right, you’ll see cell 181 where the infamous Al Capone stayed for four years. Unfortunately, his fifth year was spent in the hospital wing due to Syphilis,” the tour guide explains, gesturing to a dark cell that’s the size of a room in my cattery back home.

  My eyes widen, and I look at Anthony to see him grimace at the prospect. Ouch.

  “We believe his diagnosis was left untreated from his years as a bouncer for a brothel in Chicago in the 1920’s.”

  Anthony leans down and mutters, “I’m gonna go ahead and say that’s what we call too much fun.”

  I snort, and the tour guide gives me a dirty look in response before I whisper, “I think you’re right.” Pulling me toward the hallway with marks on the cement from a bunch of grenades that were dropped during another prisoner escape attempt, he drags me to a secluded location that lacks tourists.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper-shout, looking around as his hand grazes the hem of my shirt, sneaking onto my bare stomach.

  “It was the brothel thing,” he starts. His mouth inches along my neck, his stubble gently scratching against the sensitive skin.

  Laughing, I push him away, and mutter, “You’re insatiable.”

  “With you, I am.”

  “Oh, so you weren’t like this with other girls?”

  “Girl. There was only one before you. You know that.”

  My jaw drops, and I look around the empty corridor. “Are you serious? I knew there was one long-term girlfriend before me, not that she was your first…everything. You’ve only been with two girls?”

  The skin beneath his stubble turns a soft shade of red, and I instantly feel guilty for putting a glaring spotlight on his admission.

  “It’s not a big deal,” I console, stepping closer to him and squeezing his hand. “I’m just surprised.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Because you’re freaking amazing in bed,” I admit, a blush of my own heating my cheeks. “I kind of assumed you were a manwhore in high school or something before she tied you down. Not gonna lie.”

  Throwing his head back, he laughs at my confession before throwing an arm around my neck and pulling me in for another kiss. This one has less heat and is more lazy and casual. I kind of love it. It’s so effortless that part of me wishes I could bottle up the emotions it elicits so I could save it for another day when I’m missing him.

  “Yeah, I definitely wasn’t a manwhore, and I never thought I’d be okay with someone having that misconception about me. But with you, I’m cool with it.”

  I pinch his butt, and he yelps before laughing even harder.

  As I join in, I bounce my brows up and down suggestively. “Good. You can be my manwhore. How does that sound?”

  We walk to catch up with the guide before he drops another kiss to my cheek. “With you? Sounds pretty damn perfect.”

  * * *

  After finishing the tour, Anthony and I head to the ferry. As soon as we’re seated, the salty sea air, combined with the gentle sway of the boat, lulls me to sleep. When I wake up at our destination, I notice a spot of drool soaking Anthony’s shirt and wipe the side of my mouth with the back of my hand.

  “Whoops.” I grimace as I peek up at him to see a smile spreading across his face.

  “No worries, Swayze Girl. Did you sleep okay?”

  “Like a baby,” I quip.

  He leans forward and whispers low, his voice husky and sexy as hell as it brushes against the shell of my ear. “Well, I hope it was worth it, ‘cause you missed quite the spectacle.”

  “Ooo, what’d I miss?”

  “A seagull pooped on the lady a few rows up from us, and she freaked.”

  My hand lifts to my face in an attempt to muffle my giggling, but I’m greeted with a dirty look from a blonde lady who’s sporting a giant damp spot on her shoulder that looks to be about the size of my hand. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she’s the victim of the Seagull Assault of 2019.

  “Whoops,” I repeat, mumbling under my breath as Anthony shakes with laughter beside me.

  “Subtle, Sway. Really subtle.”

  Shoving my elbow in his ribs, I glare at him. “You’re the one who told me what happened! You could’ve waited ‘til we were off the ferry. What else did you expect me to do?”

  With his chest still rumbling with amusement, he tosses his arm around me and pulls me into him before dropping a kiss to the top of my head. “Exactly that, and you didn’t disappoint, that’s for sure. If I’d have w
aited until we were off the boat, I never would’ve gotten to see the look on her face as you lost your shit.”

  “You sneaky little jerk.” I pinch his side. “You got me in trouble on purpose!”

  “Why, yes. Yes, I did.” His voice lacks any kind of regret and makes me want to elbow him again.

  “Whelp. That’s it. No sex for you tonight.”

  With a gasp, he pulls away, and I look up to see his mouth open wide in shock. “How dare you!”

  “Sorry, but every action has consequences, Mr. Wrong.”

  Narrowing his gaze, he probes, “You do know that no sex for me means no sex for you, right?”

  My mouth quirks up on the side. “Says who?”

  Yeah, I’m playing with fire, but we both know I’m full of crap. I think. I mean, he knows he’s the only one I want, right? Glancing up at him, I see the hurt on his face that he covers with a cocky smirk in the blink of an eye. Did I imagine that?

  “Oh, really? Is that how you wanna play it?” The silent challenge in his voice is enough to make me pause. There’s a certain bite to it that is glaringly obvious. I pushed him too far, and now I don’t know how to take it back.

  No. That’s not how I want to play it. I want to have the guts to tell you how I really feel, that it’d be a terrible idea to pursue anything real between us because I’m not who you want, and I never will be.

  I’m not surprised when my confession catches in my throat. Instead, I do what I always do. I go for playful, fun Sway, instead of the rarely seen open and vulnerable one. It’s easier that way.

  Rolling my eyes, I slide my hand up his thigh then lean closer and nibble the sensitive skin on his throat in an attempt to smooth things over. “Maybe some other time. I think I found a better form of punishment we’ll both enjoy much more, don’t you think?”

  “Meh.”

  I flinch, my hand sliding off his lap as the ferry rocks back and forth, docking at our destination.

  “Meh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  His eyes are guarded as he explains, “It means that I’m curious if you really would go find someone else to warm your bed.”

  “I was kidding, Anthony––”

  “Were you?” he pushes.

  “Of course I was. You’re being ridiculous.”

  With a shake of his head, a distraught Anthony watches the other tourists file out of the top section of the ferry where we’re sitting and disappear down the stairs until we’re the last on the boat.

  The silence is only broken by the shuffling of feet and the chattering of sea lions down below. What I had found so peaceful is now like a set of nails on a chalkboard, and I need it to stop. I need everything to stop.

  When he stays quiet, the panic starts to set in. “Look. Just…Just give me a minute, okay?”

  “Are you ever going to want anything with me, Sway?”

  “Anthony––”

  “Answer the question.” His gaze is cold as he looks down at me, but I can see past the cool exterior to the heart of the problem. His ex left him for someone else, and I just casually threw the same scenario at him like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it didn’t wreck his world the first time, and it wouldn’t hurt him this time, either.

  “I’m sorry I was so insensitive. I really was joking, but it’s not an excuse. I do care about you, and I’d never start seeing someone else without talking to you about it first even if I can’t put a label on this.”

  “And why can’t you put a label on this, Sway? You’re not blind. You can see how perfect we could be together as well as I can.”

  “Anthony––”

  “Answer the question, Sway. You owe me that much.” The defeat in his voice is numbing, as if he’s already shut down. As if what we’ve shared is slipping through our fingers regardless how hard we try to hold on to it.

  I push past the lump in my throat and swallow back the tears threatening to spill. “I just can’t.”

  “Then I just can’t do this with you anymore.”

  With a gasp, my tone is raw as I whisper, “What?”

  “I’m in love with you, Swayze Girl. But I’m not going to keep wasting my time like I did for the last thirteen years. I want to be with you, but I need you to want to be with me just as much. The feelings I had for Indie? They don’t hold a candle to what I feel for you, but if you can’t reciprocate them, then there isn’t much of a point for me to stick around.”

  My heart feels like it’s being shredded. Like it’s a frail piece of paper that’s been torn into so many pieces that it isn’t worth the effort of gluing back together because it’ll never be whole again even if someone was willing to put in a little elbow grease. Just like me.

  “You don’t understand, Anthony,” I try to explain. “You don’t get it.”

  “Then explain it to me,” he pleads, gripping my hand with so much force it almost hurts.

  The horn on the ferry sounds, and I flinch in response. Anthony doesn’t move a muscle. His gaze is still pinning me in place as he waits for the explanation he’s desperately searching for.

  I just wish I had the courage to give it to him.

  Opening my mouth to say something, it closes a second later, and I break his stare to look out at the waves surrounding us. The salty ocean makes me feel like a drop in a bucket. So small. So inconsequential.

  “I want you, Sway. I want to be with you. I want to take this to the next level. To make you mine. I’m done keeping things casual. I’ve already wasted too much time chasing something that wasn’t meant to be, and I don’t want to do it again with you. People say when you know, you know, and they’re right. I know what I want. I just can’t figure out why you don’t want me in return.”

  Folding my arms, I pinch the sensitive skin on my tricep while biting my cheek for two reasons. One, to keep me from opening my big mouth, and two, to distract me from the excruciating pain spreading throughout my chest.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I hear Anthony shuffle in his seat before he continues. “You’ve given me your body, Sway. Why can’t you give me your heart too? I promise I’ll take care of it. That I’ll cherish it. That I’ll treat you like a damn queen. You just need to let me.” To hear such a strong, sexy man beg for my heart is enough to tear mine in two, but I can’t find the courage to speak up. Hell, I can barely breathe.

  The horn blares a second time, urging us into action. We need to get off this thing or we’re going for another ride, and with how fragile our relationship is right now, I’m not sure we’d survive it.

  “Come on, Anthony. We need to go.”

  “No.”

  “What? Anthony, you’re being ridiculous––”

  He cuts me off. “That’s the second time you’ve said that today, and I don’t appreciate it this time, either. I’m not being ridiculous. I’m trying to communicate with you. I’m trying to tell you how I feel. I’m trying to tell you I love you, and that I could see you playing a big part in my life. And when I tell you these things, what do you have to say? You tell me it’s not that easy. That I don’t understand. But when I ask you to explain it to me, you freeze. Why are you freezing, Swayze Girl? What are you so terrified of?”

  The truth tumbles out of me before I can stop it, and I snap.

  “That you won’t love me when you find out I can’t give you everything you want!” I seethe.

  Pushing away from him, I rush down the stairs. The sound of my sneakers slapping against the metal echoes throughout the empty ferry and makes me feel more alone than ever. I hear Anthony call my name, but I don’t look back. I can’t look back. I’m a coward. Again. But it doesn’t change the fact that I can already see how this plays out, and I can’t handle never being enough.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Anthony

  The palm of my hand rubs against my face in an attempt to wipe away the exhaustion that fills my soul. As I sit on the bed in the hotel room Sway and I shared, I find it empty. The only evidence that she was here is the note ly
ing haphazardly on my pillow after I tossed it aside.

  The letter is simple. Concise. Hell, I shouldn’t be surprised that all she left me were five simple words when she wouldn’t even give me that many anytime I tried to pin her down and make her open up to me. But I couldn’t help myself. Not when I wasted so much time with my ex. Not when I finally felt what true love really is. I thought I was growing a pair by admitting what I wanted, but all I did was push her away.

  That’s on me.

  But what’s not on me? Sway running. She shouldn’t have run. She should’ve stayed. She should’ve fought. For me. For us. For our future. For everything. But she didn’t. And the truth couldn’t make me feel any lower.

  Releasing a shaky breath, my eyes find the damn note that I’ve already committed to memory.

  I can’t do this anymore.

  I grab my wallet off the nightstand with the intention of hunting down a stiff drink and head past the empty closet where her duffle bag once rested. My gaze drops to the bare space, my throat tightening. With a shake of my head, I open the door in search of the nearest bar. I’m gonna need to make it a double.

  * * *

  The next morning, I wake up with a pounding headache. The only thing rousing me from sleep is the possibility that Sway might be on the plane ride home, and I’ll be able to talk some sense into her. Unfortunately, when I consider the fact her cell was turned off the dozen times I called yesterday, not to mention the thirty text messages I sent after my fourth drink, I’m going to assume the possibility of us being on the same flight is slim at best.

  When my phone alerts me that the Uber driver is waiting by the curb in front of the hotel, I pinch the bridge of my nose then slide a pair of sunglasses onto my face.

  The ride is short, though I can’t help but remember Sway being tucked into my side only yesterday. It already feels like a lifetime ago. I pull out my phone and check in using the airline’s app. When the question: Would you like to check in Sway Swenson? pops up on the screen, I squeeze my eyes shut.