Crimson Sunsets

by Lacee Hightower

  I’m not a good person.

  But I never meant to hurt you.

  All I want is to love you.

  I flashed back to the moment. Justin was breathing quietly through his nose in deep slumber. God knows he needed the rest. He’d looked so tired last night. I rolled over on my side, trying not to wake him, watching the small fluttering movement behind his eyes as his warm breath swept my neck. He looked completely at peace. His hair stuck out on the side and I smiled, brushing a hand across and pushing it back over his ear. I’d always loved his hair. I kissed the very edge of his earlobe, sweeping my finger over the delicate skin of his eyelids, swallowing back the sudden burst of emotion.

  Please God… Why are you so cruel?

  Why did Justin’s mother stand by and do nothing?

  “Why are you awake so early?”

  His lids slid open, his morning hardness thick and erect against my belly. He dropped his lips against my neck, my nipples instantly tightening with the sudden darkening behind the blue of his eyes.

  I arched into the curve of his strong body.

  “Can I just look in your beautiful eyes for a minute?” I whispered.

  I was still emotional after everything I’d learned last night. He raised up on one elbow, his eyes penetrating mine like he sensed my mental state. We’d only known each other for a short time, but everything between us was like that. We just understood. Felt what each other felt. Whatever this was between us needed nothing else as long as we had this connection.

  He brushed sensual long kisses over my throat, trailing them down and over my breasts, focusing on the sensitive area underneath. With hunger in his eyes, his tongue swirled against my delicate skin, his breath heavy and heated.

  “I want you so damn much, sweet thing.”

  While he moved down my torso, he reached for my right leg, easing it up and outward. His head dropped between my thighs, pressing the same leg back even more as he took me between his lips.

  Oh, my God. I’d never had a man’s mouth on me from this angle. I was so open. Completely vulnerable and powerless. Breathless, I knew that no matter what had happened in our past, today, and tomorrow, and every day forward, he was my future. Whatever darkness either of us endured, we’d face it together. My clit pulsed as he plunged his tongue inside me again and again, his hand forcing my thigh out to the side with every desperate thrust.

  I pursed my lips together with every shove of his tongue, my hand reaching for his head and tangling through his hair as I urged him even closer, the feel of his scratchy jawline pulling even more pleasure from me.

  “Justin … it feels so good, baby,” I whispered, his satisfied moans of pleasure sending me to the brink. The very edge of where I knew he wanted me. This feeling. What he ignited in my body. He owned it. I was his. I think … I always had been. Maybe in some strange kind of way, what we’d both been through was planned by someone higher up to get us right where we were now.

  I shifted, my natural instinct to turn to the side, but the strength of his strong arm pushed me back, forcing me to keep my stance. He was regulating every move I made. Every action of my body. He claimed he was no longer Dominant, but in this moment, he was ruling every single thing. Exercising complete control.

  Turning me on even more.

  My heart raced as he took my clit, purposely nipping it with the edge of his tooth as he slid a finger inside my cavity and curled it.

  “Ahh.” I came violently, urging him even tighter against me.

  “That’s my baby,” he whispered against my inner thigh, placing short kisses against my quaking body and easing back up my belly to sink his hard erection inside my still quivering core. He pushed through my sex until we both were fully spent and exhausted.

  ****

  Breakfast wasn’t my favorite meal. I normally skipped it entirely. But when Brandon brought cheese Danish for everyone, I was suddenly famished. I lifted one of the pastries onto a napkin and walked back to my desk. Fridays were half days for the office since Brandon performed surgeries during the afternoon and the thought of sharing pancakes in bed with Justin shot through my mind out of absolutely nowhere.

  Luna walked in, silent as she munched on her own pastry, her eyes dramatically widening. I knew her well enough now to know this was her way of letting me know she could tell I was feeling better. I also knew what was coming.

  “So the pink lilies did their trick,” she teased. I only nodded, chewing a bite of sinfully good cheese-filled buttery crust.

  “Uhh,” she groaned. Goading me with big puppy-dog eyes, I’d never get my work done if I didn’t spill.

  “Sure did.”

  Luna’s lips opened to speak when my office phone buzzed.

  “Bummer. Saved by the bell.” I winked as Luna turned to leave, pretty sure she’d be back for more explanation later.

  Two rings later, I answered, struggling to swallow the lump of flaky goodness in my throat.

  “Good morning, sweet thing,” he uttered.

  I dropped the uneaten bite of breakfast into the trash and reached for the sanitizer on the corner of the desk with my free hand.

  “Hi. You’re calling me on the office phone. That’s different.”

  “You ran out without your phone,” he replied. “I brought it home with me. You still get off at noon today, don’t you? I have a special dinner planned. I’m cooking for you tonight.”

  My heart burst with sentiment. He remembered me telling him I wanted him to cook something for me one day.

  “That sounds awesome, JT. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  The call ended and I quickly logged on to the coding software, burying my head in work that I’d let pile up.

  “Have a nice weekend, ladies. I’m off to the surgery center.” A little before eleven, I waved at Brandon, closing my now empty folder of work. Thankfully, I’d finished.

  Eager to see what kind of meal Justin had planned, I tidied up my desk and gathered my things, heading toward the front office to walk out with Luna. Fully anticipating another interrogation about my sex life, once we stepped outside into what was turning into a full-fledged thunderstorm, we both hurriedly ran to our cars.

  “Have a great weekend, Luna,” I yelled, as a large clap of thunder had us both jumping.

  It was hard to see with rain suddenly falling down in hard sheets. After creeping the entire drive, I was finally at Justin’s apartment. Thankfully, he’d added me to his covered garage pass, so I didn’t have to get entirely drenched. I reached the penthouse level, Justin immediately opening up the door.

  “How do you do that?” I asked, reaching over for a soft kiss. “You answer the door right when I step off the elevator every single time I come over here. It’s eerie.”

  “Eerie? Come in. I’ll show you eerie.”

  Casual Friday at work, I was dressed in ankle jeans and a soft pink, three-quarter sleeve tunic top with cut-out shoulders and white Adidas. The door shut and Justin’s blue eyes met mine, taking me in his arms with one hand against the back of my hair.

  “Fuck, I missed you,” he uttered, kissing me passionately and walking at the same time, his mouth never leaving mine. Somehow, we miraculously ended up in his bedroom. I finally caught my breath and ran a hand over the fine hard curve of his astonishing ass.

  “I don’t think I like leaving you in the mornings, sweet thing.” His voice was sensual, his eyes blazing.

  “Kinda hard, being that I have to work mornings,” I answered, my breath still shaky from his kiss.

  “You don’t have to. You know that, don’t you?” My hand was still brushing over the denim hugging his amazing backside when his jaw suddenly tensed up. His hand fell from where it rested on my hip and clutched his temples.

  Another migraine. More than familiar now, I knew exactly what to expect.

  “Lie down on the bed, baby.”

  I ran to the bathroom, turning on the water, and dampened a soft cloth. I rested it across his head.

&nb
sp; His eyes filled with emotion as he struggled to keep them open. Oh crap. The light. I switched the bathroom light off that I’d unintentionally left on. He needed darkness. And quiet.

  “What do I do JT? Please tell me.”

  “You don’t have to do this, Hartley.” He eased his eyes shut and pushed his head further into the pillow.

  “I know I don’t have to. Now tell me what to do, baby. Don’t turn gladiator on me now.”

  He stood from the bed and walked to the bathroom.

  “Stop gritting your teeth,” he whispered. I was grinding my teeth. I always did that when I was upset. Shit, could he hear me? Was his hearing that sensitive during a migraine?

  He shut the door. The sounds of him purging up everything in his stomach was viciously loud. I ran to the kitchen looking through cabinets. Drawers. Finally, I opened the bottom drawer and saw two white bottles of Coenzyme Q-10. A small pipe and baggie sat beside it.

  I grabbed two bottles of water and went back to the bedroom. He sat on the side of his bed, his elbows planted against his thighs with his head dropped deep into the depths of his palms.

  I kissed the top of his head.

  “Here, baby. I brought these. Do you need to change your patch?”

  He nodded, his eyes red and swollen, while all the color from his face drained.

  I handed him the pill vial and twisted off the plastic lid to one of the water bottles.

  “I don’t know how to do the pipe. I’ve never smoked before.”

  He raised a shaky hand and opened the small baggie, lifting a pinch of weed and rubbing it between his fingers before placing it in the opening of the pipe. He reached over into the bedside table and pulled out a lighter.

  He flipped on the Bic lighter, holding it over the small bowl. He inhaled for several long seconds, leaning his head back with closed eyes before exhaling a long stream of white smoke. He added a second and third pinch and did the same before setting the pipe down.

  He reclined back into the pillow, his eyes staring straight upward. He seemed somewhat better, even though he hadn’t spoken.

  “Can I try some?” His eyes shot toward mine, surprised.

  “Yeah, sure,” he answered, his response curt and short. He reached for the pipe and loaded it.

  “I’ll hold the lighter. Just breathe in. Not too deep though. It’s strong.” His eyes were still bloodshot, but a trace of color had returned to his face. I held the pipe to my mouth as I watched the red flame cover the opening. I inhaled for seconds, exactly like I’d seen him do.

  “Oh, my God!” I coughed. My throat was on fire. It was hot and dry.

  “Water,” I choked.

  “I told you not to inhale so deeply. You didn’t fucking listen.” I guzzled the water that tasted like liquid gold.

  “Holy fuck!” I said before bursting into laughter. “Give me that!” I reached for the pipe.

  He lit the little bit of weed still inside and I inhaled again, holding it in a little longer than the first time. In seconds, I broke into the worst, most embarrassing laughing fit I’d ever experienced.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this was so fucking good? This is amazing.”

  “I’ve never heard you cuss like that. Well, not since the first day I saw you in the asswipe’s apartment,” he murmured. He started to smile, but quickly sealed his lips.

  “Asswipe? Jackson’s an asswipe?” Suddenly, that thought was the funniest thing I’d ever heard in my life.

  “My brother’s an asswipe.”

  I reached for the pipe, but Justin pushed it toward the far end of the bedside table out of reach.

  “He’s a Dom, too,” I whispered. “But then you are, too.” I rolled into laughter again. What had happened only minutes ago suddenly disappeared. I wasn’t thinking about anything but the weed I’d just smoked for the first time in my life. And how good it made me feel.

  “Oh, my God. I have to pee like a monster.” I stood up and walked to Justin’s bathroom, turning to shut the door.

  He was watching me, his head reclining against the headboard as he shook his head. I smiled.

  He smiled back.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Justin

  Will she still love me ten years from now?

  It was still the early hours of the morning when I’d awoken to Hartley’s sleeping sighs. She still slept as I sat outside drinking coffee. Never planning on introducing her to weed, after a couple of deep hits, she’d begged for more. I didn’t give it to her. I shouldn’t have let her have any.

  After long expletive-filled comments and ridiculous out of character chatter, she finally fell asleep against me, not moving an inch for hours, other than to eventually sink her feet underneath my legs. Two hours after we’d hit the pipe, my head still felt like it was trying to give birth to my brain, pounding on one side then the next, while an ice pick stabbed through my left eye over and over. When I eased my lids shut, trying to avoid the fucking splinters in my sinuses, I managed a few hours of sleep.

  Almost noon as I worked on my third cup of coffee, scathing regret rested in my stomach. I’d already made so many mistakes with Hartley, and I wondered if I could stay on a clear path and not fuck up anymore. The damn migraines and accompanying mood swings were enough on their own to pull a person into darkness. Should I have stayed away? Stuck to the one-time plan we’d originally agreed to? Would she end up resenting me one day? Would she decide ending her father’s life was unforgiveable? My significant question—would her faith in me last? I needed this woman in my life way too much, which just didn’t make good sense.

  Fuck me. Nothing seemed on track anymore. Not if we weren’t right.

  I loved her. I wanted to grow old with her.

  I stood up and stretched, turning around to go back inside. I needed to go to Venture tonight. I’d basically turned the club over the last couple of weeks to Sam and her new assistant, Rhonda. Sam was perfectly capable of running the place, but it was still my club. My responsibility. Right now, it all just seemed so unimportant. I loved Venture and everything I’d made it into over the years. But now, I was having second thoughts. Ultimately, I knew I could hire another manager and let the two of them run things entirely. Maybe even take a break from the entire environment. Focus on my life for the first time. Maybe visit my mother at some point.

  Or spend more time with my sweet thing, if we stayed together.

  She stood in the kitchen, dressed in only a tank top and panties. In front of the coffee maker, she was sipping on the weak blend she liked best, staring ahead at the wall. She raised her free hand and brushed it across her eyes. She was crying.

  “I feel you, Justin. I know you’re there.” She turned, facing me, my brain circling with what she might say next.

  “How’s your head?”

  I didn’t deserve her care. Or her. Period.

  “Come here, baby.” I held out my arms, her body instantly falling against mine as her heart strummed against my bare chest, her breath kicking up a notch.

  Thank fuck.

  “Please forgive me for being a dick last night. I’m just not used to having someone tend to me when I get these migraines.” I dropped my forehead against hers. “Baby, I’d die before I ever hurt you.”

  “It’s okay, Justin. I’m the one who owes you an apology. I acted like an idiot. That weed just had the strangest effect on me. I had no idea it would put me to sleep. I wanted to take care of you. You were in pain.” I tried not grimacing at her comments, the fact that someone wanted to tend to me still hard to accept.

  “And you … were entertaining as hell. I never thought I’d hear you say you needed to pee like a monster.” She blushed and I kissed the tip of her nose. “I don’t need to be taken care of, sweet thing. It was just a headache. I’ve dealt with them for years.”

  “It wasn’t just a headache. And I should have been there for you.”

  “It’s done. It’s over now. Let’s forget about it.”

  She nod
ded, her lips falling between her teeth.

  “Okay… But can I ask you a question? I need the truth.”

  Jesus.

  “Anything,” I answered, my tone turning hard. “I’ll never lie to you. You know that.”

  For a minute, she was quiet. “How much did you pay? To have him killed?”

  Christ. No, Hartley.

  “Baby…” I reached for a coffee mug, presently feeling the need for something way stronger. Noticeably sensing my nervousness, she reached for me, tracing a finger above the waistband of my shorts.

  “One point five. “My answer was quick, my pulse pounding up into my throat. I didn’t know if she could handle hearing that.

  “One point five? Fifteen hundred dollars for a life?” She was so innocent. So pure and whole. Little did she know that was beer money to guys like that.

  “Hartley.” Her name was heavy against my lips. I leaned over her, kissing the top of her head, my hands brushing across her silky shoulders.

  “One point five million,” I uttered, my voice low as I did my best to keep my gaze from wandering. Her mouth dropped open.

  “You paid all that money to have him killed?”

  “Yes,” I answered quietly, refusing to tell her I would have gladly paid more.

  She shrugged, pulling my hips against her and resting her cheek against me to avoid my eyes. Her chest was pounding.

  “Look at me, baby. Let me see your eyes.” Slowly, she raised her head back up. “I haven’t really apologized to you.”

  “For what?” Her voice buzzed with question as her eyes narrowed.

  “James … for having your birth father killed. It’s just that…”I didn’t have a shard of empathy for the sick fuck and felt nothing for having him eliminated. The world was a better place without James McDonald. Nevertheless, I needed to do this.

  Her eyes filled with tears. I knew they weren’t because of James, but because I was expressing regret for what I’d done.

  “Thank you for that, JT, but it’s not necessary. I understand why you did it.” She wiped at her eyes. “Will you tell me some day? More about your life back then? And that girl you hurt? Would you tell me what you did? When you’re ready?”