The Sound of Salvation (Deliverance Book 1)

by I. A. Dice

  And I hated it.

  Thomas kissed my neck, his lips cold against my skin. He acted nothing like his usual, impatient and adoring self, he was anxious, reserved, and hesitant. I could tell by the way he touched me, and the tension in his muscles that he couldn’t adapt to the scenery he created.

  “What is all this?” I muttered.

  His lips were distracting me as they ghosted over the line of my jaw.

  “I thought we could do it right this time.” He slid the straps of my blouse down my shoulders.

  I took a step forward, then turned to face him. “Right? What was wrong about the other times?”

  He straightened his back. “You don’t like it?”

  The anxiousness in his voice made me want to tear the place down.

  “No, I don’t like it. I hate it! This isn’t you.”

  “But… girls fall for impertinent bad boys and then spend their life trying to change them into stay-at-home romantics,” he said, as if reciting someone’s words.

  “And you decided to cut one step ahead of me,” I scoffed. “Well, whoever told you this doesn’t know me. I don’t need flowers or candles.” I cupped his face, forcing him to look at me. “If I wanted a romantic guy, I wouldn’t be with you.” I pecked his lips to relax him. “I don’t want you to act.”

  “I knew this was a bad idea when I set to work.”

  “Next time trust your gut. I like that when we have sex, you act as if you can’t get enough, as if you’re there to take what’s yours.”

  I entered the room, and took off my blouse, then tossed it on the floor. Thomas was one step behind me, but I didn’t let him touch me. Instead, I pushed him on the bed, and let my skirt fall down my legs.

  He inhaled at the sight of a black set of lingerie with a tight corset and matching stockings that hugged my body.

  “No touching,” I murmured, slapping his hands away, and began undoing the buttons on his shirt.

  A song I knew well played from the portable speaker—Heartbeat by Haux, while Thomas clenched and unclenched his fists to stop from ripping my corset off.

  I slid the shirt down his arms, ghosting my lips over his neck. “Take what’s yours,” I muttered in his ear.

  One second I sat astride on him, and the next I laid on the white sheets, surrounded by rose petals, with Thomas’s lips kissing the inside of my thigh. I weaved my fingers through his hair and my mouth fell open, when he slid my panties down and stood to take off his trousers.

  “I want you to look at me,” he said, climbing back on the bed.

  I awaited a restless, brutal thrust as he positioned himself above me, parting my legs, but he slid inside me slowly, inch by inch. A muffled pant of satisfaction left his lips, and I wrapped my arms around him as his moves became rhythmic, my moans drowning out the music.

  “I’ll never let you go,” he whispered, and without warning, he pulled me up, and rested his back against the headboard. “Take what will always be yours, baby doll.”

  I rose on my knees, and fell back on top of him, my fingers on his jaw and my mouth on his forehead. I closed my eyes, breathless and feverish, basking in the luxury of his unrestrained affection.

  My moves grew faster, and my moans louder as the minutes passed. We were the only people in the world, locked in a bubble, unavailable.

  Thomas gripped my hips to keep me in place and pumped his hips up and down fast and hard, bruising my lips with forceful kisses. The pace alone was enough for the muscles in my abdomen to contract, but the urgency of his touch turned the intensity of my orgasm up a notch. His body tensed in sync with mine, and the low growl that came from deep within his chest made me faint a little.

  Black spots danced before my eyes when I buried my face in the crook of his neck.

  “I’m afraid I can’t move,” I murmured. “My legs feel like jelly.”

  Thomas chuckled, then pushed me back until I laid beneath him, gold speckles sparkling in his cinnamon irises.

  “Don’t even think about sleeping. I’m starving.” He pecked my lips, then reached for his phone to order a take-away.

  The food arrived half an hour later. We sat on the floor in the living room, watching TV. Thomas fed me some of his tortellini but refused to try my gnocchi. I sat on his lap with a fork-full and did my best to keep him from wriggling out of my grip.

  He finally gave up, but then caught my wrists, his lips drew a line from my neck through my chin to stop just half an inch from my mouth. I inched closer but he moved away, denying me his lips. He teased me like that a few times, driving me livid. I tore my wrists out of his grip, and caught his face, fastening my lips to his.

  “So impatient,” he murmured.

  His hands moved down my back as I traced the contour of his mouth, and he kissed my fingers one by one.

  We moved over to the couch when a movie started—they-killed-him-but-he-got-away kind. Unlike Thomas, who seemed interested in the plot, I was far more absorbed by drawing little circles on his jaw.

  He kissed my hand every time it got close enough to his lips. His mouth curved into a smile when I nested my head under his chin and played with his fingers next. I adored the little scar he had next to his thumb. It was an inch-long perfect, pale line.

  “How did you get it?” I asked.

  “You know that game where you stab a blade in-between your fingers as fast as you can? I got overconfident.”

  I chuckled. No surprises there. Thomas was overconfident in all aspects of his life.

  “You put a knife through your hand? Why did you play that game?” I didn’t want to think about how much it hurt.

  He looked down at me with an impish grin. “It was the first night in the Army. We all did stupid things that night.”

  “Army?” I raised on my elbows. “You were in the Army?”

  A small wrinkle appeared on his forehead. “Of course.”

  It was the twenty-first century. No one was forced to serve, and I didn’t know a single guy who volunteered. Yet there I was—in the arms of a soldier.

  “That explains a lot.” I kissed his chin. “Arrogance, your huge ego, the way you look down on everyone…”

  Thomas grabbed my wrists and pulled me under him, bringing my hands above my head. “You’re the most annoying little creature I have ever met,” he hissed. “I can’t be all flaws, or you wouldn’t be mine.”

  “Handsome. Protective. Passionate.”

  His lips curved. “Continue.”

  “You’re big-headed as it is. No need to add to it.”

  “Stubborn.” He kissed the corner of my lips. “Impatient. Delicate.”

  “Are those supposed to be my flaws or qualities?”

  “Both.” He kissed my lips and moved back to the position we were before. His eyes focused on the TV, and my fingers returned to drawing different shapes on his body.

  CHAPTER 28

  NADIA

  Forever and always

  I sat on the suitcase wrestling with the zipper. It was almost noon, and I didn’t have much time left to get ready.

  In less than two hours, the girls and I were to walk through the passport control and into the plane to take first-class seats on a flight to Barcelona.

  The guys’ schedule wasn’t as tight, and Thomas was in no hurry, still occupying the bathroom. We were supposed to meet everyone at Nick’s house at noon, but it was already twenty till, and I couldn’t see us making it there on time.

  I growled, irritated, and opened the bag for the nth time to check the contents in case I missed something unnecessary all the other times I looked for things to leave behind, but all that was still there was much needed: gift bags, party gadgets and two sets of clothes.

  Thomas descended the stairs, a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt with stag antlers printed on the chest with “I DO CREW” underneath.

  “Classy,” I said.

  “Don’t mention it. Thankfully, it’s just for the trip, and then we’re back to suits.”


  “Yes, God forbid you loosened up once every few years.”

  He raised an eyebrow, then turned around so I would see the list of dares printed on the back.

  “Kiss five pretty girls?!” I exclaimed. “Kiss five ugly girls?”

  “Any complaints should be directed at Scorpio. It was his idea, but don’t worry. I never kissed an ugly girl and won’t start now.”

  Was that supposed to appease me?

  A playful smile curved his lips, and he caught my waist. “Jealousy suits you, baby.”

  He kissed me, slid his hands to my hips and lifted me up just so he could pin me against the wall with my legs wrapped around his middle.

  “That’s one pretty girl,” he muttered and kissed me again. “Two.”

  “I’m just one girl.”

  “Are you saying you want me to kiss four other girls tonight?”

  I smacked his head and rediscovered his lips. “Three.”

  “I’ve got you. I wouldn’t kiss another girl even if you approved.”

  He pecked my forehead and put me back on the floor, then grabbed my suitcase, squeezed the top and zipped it up as if it were empty.

  “A for all you need, baby doll. Remember?”

  Even in the obnoxious t-shirt, he looked as if he just left a photoshoot. Dark, damp hair kissed his forehead here and there; long, dark eyelashes made his cinnamon eyes pop, and he smelled like amber, musk, and sex. He could kiss fifty pretty girls if he wanted to and wouldn’t need to work for it.

  “Look all you want, but no touching” I wheeled the suitcase out to the hallway, the pink, strappy stilettoes on my feet clicking on the marble floor. “I mean the strippers and the hookers,” I explained seeing his bewildered expression.

  “You think I would risk losing you over a cheap whore?”

  “They’re not that cheap.”

  “I know. I’m paying for them.” He took both suitcases and walked out to the car. “No kissing and no touching. And you …” He closed the boot, then opened the passenger door while I locked the house. “Stay safe, okay? No mixing. If you have any problems, get the security, and let me know when you’re back at the hotel. Now, get in. We’re late.”

  Yes, we were. When we arrived at Nick’s, a white limo was parked outside and the girls were already in, sticking their heads out of the windows, flutes of champagne in hands.

  “What took you so long?!” Mel exclaimed, waving me over.

  Thomas took my suitcase out of the car and gave it to the chauffeur. Nick, Scorpio, Ethan and three other guys stood outside, smoking, talking and waiting for their limo to arrive, but the audience didn’t stop Thomas from weaving his hand through my hair, and devouring my lips as if it was the first kiss we shared.

  “Have fun, baby. Just not too much fun.”

  Alex looked ready to tear my hair out when I took a seat. She looked even angrier when Thomas, who was already walking toward the guys, turned around and stuck his head through the open window.

  “Almost forgot.” He took a small envelope out of his back pocket, gave it to me, then pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Miss me.”

  The driver set off the moment Thomas stepped away. I opened the envelope and took out six VIP passes to the hotel spa.

  “Looks like we’re getting massaged back into shape tomorrow,” Jane said, peeking over my shoulder.

  “Are we even sure this is Thomas? I mean, he’s like a brand-new person with you, Nadia.” Mel chirped.

  “This was supposed to be an evening without boy-talk,” Alex snapped, her pretty face red and her arms crossed.

  “True, but have you seen the list of dares on their t-shirts?!” Camila, Amelia’s friend from university said.

  Her husband, Jake, was part of the “I DO CREW”.

  Jane burst out laughing and dismissed Camila’s worries with a wave.

  “Oh please, as if they have the balls to pull through.”

  Another bottle of prosecco waited for us in the first-class lounge at the airport, but I refused to drink just yet. There was still plenty of time for that, and since I was the maid of honour it was my responsibility to see that the party would go according to plan.

  Besides, I wanted Tequila.

  We boarded the plane, and two hours later we landed in sunny Barcelona. Another limo waited to take us over to the hotel. I rented out a villa with Thomas’s recommendation. The receptionist greeted us with a smile, and the bellboy unloaded our luggage. I remembered to tip him, and as soon as he left, I took my phone out to text Thomas.

  So far so good. We’re at the hotel, leaving in an hour. Thank you for the gift.

  You’re welcome, baby. We’re on our way to the hotel, too.

  Holding a small package in hand, I knocked on the bathroom door where Amelia was getting dressed.

  “I can’t believe that after all those years of treating you as my sister, you’ll finally be a true part of the family,” I said, taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub. “I know you’ll make him happy, Mel, and I know he’ll do the same for you.”

  I spoke two sentences and she was already emotional. I had more to say, but ruining her make-up or getting her to burst into tears was the last thing on my list. I kept the speech short and sweet.

  “I love you, Mel, and this…” I gave her the gift. “This is to remind you of all those crazy times we shared together.”

  “Thank you,” she hugged me, her eyes wet. “I love you too.”

  She opened the package, taking out a silver bracelet with two dozen charms. Each one provoked a memory. There was the Eifel Tower because we celebrated her eighteenth birthday in Paris; a giraffe to remind her of the time one spit on her when we visited a drive-through safari park; a wellington, because we snuck into a festival when we were fifteen and danced the night away in mud.

  There was also a hen to remind her of whatever was to happen later. I knew it would be a great night. Not because I planned it but because Mel and I always had fun together no matter what we set out to do.

  “Forever, and always,” she said, and put the bracelet on.

  “Forever, and always. Now hurry up, we’ve got dinner reservations in half an hour.”

  I closed the door behind me, slipped into the cocktail dress I had prepared for the evening, and walked out to the balcony.

  I fought the urge to call Adrian for two days since Ty texted to let me know the suicide watch was over, and that Adrian was in better shape. Despite refusing to fly over to New York, I wanted to check how he was doing, and I wanted him to tell me why he overdosed.

  With a cigarette in one hand, and a phone in the other, I rested against the rail, bathed in the afternoon sunlight, and surrounded by the sounds of road traffic in the distance.

  I knew the moment we would land in Barcelona, the moment Thomas would be far away enough, I would cave and call Adrian. I tried to prepare for this conversation, prepare for the effect his voice had on me, for the way he could isolate and brainwash me even from the other side of the Atlantic. The second he uttered the first word, his voice small, and tired, my preparations proved useless.

  “Puppet.”

  Relief washed over me and travelled straight to my heart. The faint beeping of hospital machines resonated in the background, and I could almost smell the antiseptic and gauze. The image of Adrian, a strong, athletic man, lying in a hospital bed flashed before my eyes. I felt sick.

  “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” I said, but my voice broke half-way through the sentence, and I had to whisper the rest.

  There were no tears this time, just overpowering weakness.

  “Don’t cry, puppet. I’m okay. I swear. God, you don’t know how glad I am to hear you.”

  I bit my fist and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath through my nose, and exhaling through my mouth the way Thomas taught me.

  “Why did you do it?” I asked when I trusted my vocal cords again.

  “Because I lost you. Nick said you’re moving on, that you met someone. I
tried to accept that I hurt you too much, and you can’t forgive me, but I couldn’t imagine my life without you. I still can’t. What’s the point of all this if I don’t get a chance to earn your forgiveness?”

  “Don’t say that.”

  All the bruises, cuts and screams; the fear, panic and tears; everything lost their significance in the face of Adrian’s suicidal thoughts. It wasn’t his fault he hurt me. It wasn’t Adrian on the other side of the line. It was the other guy, the one which was no longer there, because Adrian was clean.

  “No number of apologies will change the past, but I need you to believe that I am sorry, puppet.” He was close to tears. “It wasn’t until rehab that I saw what I have done to you. With each passing day I was buried alive under the guilt and hatred, and I broke. I couldn’t take it anymore when Nick said that this was it—that you were done with me.”

  There was not an ounce of doubt in my mind about Adrian’s remorse. If he could turn back time and never touch PCP, he would do it no matter the consequences.

  “I don’t need apologies. Just please don’t give up. You’re almost out of the woods, baby. You’re stronger than you think.”

  “I love you, puppet,” he whispered. “And I know you may never trust me again, and that you may never be mine again, but right now I just need you here. I need a chance to earn your forgiveness. Nothing makes sense without you, and I know I won’t make it.”

  Those few words summoned hundreds of memories. He helped me through the darkness and pieced together my broken heart, mind and soul. He watched over me like a guardian angel—always there when I needed and wanted him and when I didn’t want him, too.

  Sometimes I screamed and cursed to make him go away and let me fall apart in peace because I had no strength to fight, but he always stayed and fought in my name while I licked my wounds.