by Tiffani Lynn
I shrug one shoulder because I didn’t want to assume anything, not with him. One minute he’s yelling at me with that maddening condescending tone he gets and the next he’s pulling me closer to snuggle him and thanking me for dinner. He shakes his head like he doesn’t know what to do with me and disappears into his room. I change quickly, still commando, and go to his room. This time when I climb on his bed he flips me to my back in a move I didn’t expect and hovers over me. His fingers thread with mine and shift above my head to rest on the pillow.
“You drive me insane, Mari. Always putting yourself in danger. Always making bad choices. Constant talking. Too much makeup. Too many holes in your skin. But damn it, I can’t get enough of you either. I fluctuate between wanting to tape your lips shut and wanting to ask more questions.” Leaning in close, he nips at my neck before continuing. “I don’t know if I’m coming or going with you and it’s making me fucking crazy. Last night you gave me something I’ve wanted for as far back as when I was 16 years old, and it was better than I ever dreamed it would be, but fuck, woman, you’re driving me nuts.”
Before I can reply to his rude and offensive thoughts, his mouth crashes to mine and it’s obvious he’s hungry for me. As much as I hate myself for being weak I can’t help my body’s reaction to him. My legs drop open, welcoming him. Our tongues battle, tangle and twist around each other in the hottest kiss known to mankind. Before it’s over he adjusts his big body between my legs and they automatically wrap around him to lock at the ankles.
He pulls away just enough so that our lips brush as he says, “Mari, God, you’re killing me.”
I smile and tug on the T-shirt he’s wearing. I’m pretty sure he’s pulling away to protest, but I’m not about to let him win this one. I need the feel of his skin against mine, not the impersonal feel of fabric. “Take it off. Skin on skin, Jase.”
“Mari.” It’s a warning and a plea all wrapped into one.
“Jasen, I saw your back the other day. It’s no big deal. Take the damn shirt off or I’ll hitchhike back to my place and sleep on the nasty floor.”
His chuckle shakes my whole body and the sound is beautiful, amazing, and might be my favorite sound ever. It’s sound-bite gold.
“You’re going nowhere.” He rises and sheds the shirt and I’m practically clawing at the air to reach his skin. When he gets close enough, my hands are all over him in seconds. I need to know this is real. I need to feel every inch of him.
My touch seems to ignite his libido and he goes into attack mode, devouring me with his kiss. His hands slide under me and grip my ass, pulling me tighter to him. We fuck like animals, rolling all over the bed, knocking stuff off the side table and dislodging the sheets. Tongues and teeth, fingernails and lips all work together to take us higher, preparing for the orgasmic dive off the cliff into ecstasy. I’ve never felt more connected to anyone than I do right now. Never felt more out of control from someone’s touch. Every third or fourth kiss he breathes my name across my skin like he’s worshiping every part of me. I’ve never felt so beautiful as I do at the mercy of his desire. By the time we find nirvana, he’s spooned up behind me, connected to me from my heels to my head as we try to catch our breath. Once my heart rate slows, I pull the courage out of some unknown location and ask, “Are you seeing anyone else?”
He freezes, his muscles pulling tight like he’s been caught doing something wrong.
“No.”
“Not even Leslie?”
This time he holds his breath for a few seconds before he asks, “Leslie?”
“She called you before vacation and you left sooner so I figured, you know…she couldn’t wait or something. Please don’t make me spell it out when I’m lying here with you, naked.”
He kisses my head and tells me, “No, there’s nothing going on with Leslie.” That’s not a ringing endorsement, but I don’t want to push my luck tonight.
“I just can’t be one of many with you, Jase. Not with you. So if there are others, let me go this time. Please.”
He buries his face in my neck. “No one else, Mari.”
I love, love, love when he calls me that. My heart aches a little with want, for so much more of him, so I look for a distraction from the previous subject.
“You never told me where the Spanish came from.”
“What?”
“The way you say my name, it sounds Spanish. You’re obviously not Spanish.”
“My stepdad was Mexican and most of his yelling was in Spanish. When he was pissed, he wouldn’t let us reply to him in English at all. I learned to speak it quickly so I wouldn’t get my ass beaten as often. Not good memories. Why are you such a chatterbox right now? I thought for sure the double orgasm would quiet you down.”
I reach back and smack his ass, irritated at his comment. “You fucked me to quiet me down?” A little bit of hurt creeps in, but I do my best to ignore it.
“I was kidding. Well, sort of. It’s not why I fucked you, but I thought it would be a side effect.” I try to push him off me, irritated at his thought process, but the big ox won’t move. In fact, he holds me tighter and chuckles into my neck. We stay that way for several minutes before he rolls away and disposes of the condom. When he returns to the bed he pulls me into his side like the last couple of nights.
I lie there unable to sleep, but now for a different reason. Why am I here? He doesn’t like how much I talk or my crazy lifestyle or my tats, makeup or piercings, so what’s the deal? He can have any woman he wants in his bed so why me? It’s unfortunate that I have a comfortable place to sleep where I’m not alone and the freaking hamster is on the wheel in my head keeping me awake. Thought after thought after thought goes round and round and I can’t shut it down. Tension settles back in my shoulders and confusion in my mind. It takes forever but I finally fall asleep. I wake up late the next morning to find he’s gone to work, and I’m back to wondering what the hell I’m doing here. When I go to the kitchen I see he’s left me a note that simply says,
Stay again tonight, please.
Dex
He said please. Warmth spreads through my chest. Even if I’m a place holder for him, I’ll take it. I’ve never craved a man like I do him. His voice, his arms, his bed, his eyes… Dear God, his eyes do it for me even with his silence. But more than anything, I feel safe when I’m with him. Like the bad stuff that’s happened most of my life won’t happen again. Like I’ll live a life of roses and smiles and sunshine if he’s my man. But I know I’m not a long-term thing for him. Like I said before, he’s probably got his eye on some high-class chick with long blond hair and legs that go on forever. One with a college degree and an expensive SUV. I’m not delusional, just desperate for him and what he gives me because I’ve never had it a day in my life, besides with him.
Chapter Eight
Dex
God, that girl drives me batshit crazy. She has no regard for her personal safety. I can’t believe she thought she was going to sleep on her apartment floor with no blanket and no pillow. Who does that? Did she think I’d leave her to that after the night before? I was so pissed when I realized that’s what she thought. I was ready to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back to my place if I had to. There’s no way in hell I could’ve left her to sleep in that place. She had to be scared and uncomfortable. Once I arrived though, and got a look at her in those little scraps of fabric she calls pajamas, I wasn’t mad anymore. What I was has a whole other name. All I could think about was getting her back to my place and under me.
The chemistry between us last night was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. The scent of her hair and the feel of her incredibly soft skin left me feeling drunk. I couldn’t get enough of her and I’ve never felt that way before. I don’t know what I’m going to do about her, though. She’s not long-term relationship material and neither am I. The damage was done to me too many years ago and there is no reversing it. I prefer to be alone and quiet, whereas she never wants to be alone and couldn’t
sit in a quiet room for more than 30 seconds without filling it with some kind of sound. On a regular basis, we would clash like crazy.
If I was doing what’s best for me, I would’ve left her in her apartment to figure things out on her own. Besides losing all conscious thought when she’s around, I worry about her. It’s not just that so many unfortunate things happen to her. Something about the burglary doesn’t sit right with me. It’s fucking weird that every single thing in their apartment is gone. The only thing left behind is a half roll of toilet paper in the bathroom. Every ounce of food, all the dirty laundry, the throw rugs, the pictures...everything just vanished. It doesn’t add up. There is a piece to this puzzle that I’m missing and I don’t have a clue what it is. When I spoke to the cop who filed the report, she said she ran the MO in the database, hoping other reports would pop up with similar findings. One woman from a town about an hour from here filed a similar report over a year ago and a month later was reported missing. According to the files, it’s still an open case because she’s never been found.
I don’t know if that case is related, but I’m trying to keep an eye on Marina just in case. I may not want to marry her, but I don’t want anything to happen to her either. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her that I could’ve prevented by keeping her close. The fact that I crave her touch has nothing to do with any of this; maybe if I keep telling myself that, it will be true.
After two weeks of Mari sharing my bed and my apartment, you’d think I’d be ready for her to go, but honestly, it’s been kind of nice. Every night I come home to a home-cooked meal, even if I have to pop it in the microwave because she’s still at work, and every night she’s warming my bed. Our chemistry is off the charts. Our first time together has nothing on every subsequent night since then. I’ve never been with a woman where the already phenomenal sex gets better every time. In fact, I didn’t even realize that was possible. There’s something about the two of us together that works beautifully. If I had one complaint it would be that there is no peace with her, though; no quiet moments where she relaxes. I wish I could teach her that, but I’m not sure it’s in her nature.
Somewhere around four o’clock in the morning, my phone rings on the nightstand closest to Mari. She picks it up and mumbles as she’s passing it to me, “It’s Leslie.”
I haven’t told her about Leslie, Rushton and Sklyer yet. I don’t know why. Maybe because I don’t want to talk about Stu. It seems too intimate, too personal, and I know she’ll have a thousand questions about him, what happened, and about Leslie. None of which I want to talk about.
“Les, hold on.” I climb out of bed and move to the living room for privacy.
Panic carries in her voice. “It’s Rushton. He’s gone. There’s an Amber Alert out for him. We’ve looked everywhere. I’ve had the police involved since last night. Dex, I need you. Oh, God, I need you here!”
My heart is racing. Where the hell could he be? “Did you check the dock?”
“Yes.”
“Did you check the fort out in his friend Parker’s woods?”
“Yes. Dex, we’ve been everywhere. All his friends and their families are involved in the search. I don’t know where he is.”
“Fuck! Okay, I’ll get on the first flight out. Keep me up to date. I’ll text you with my info. Have Joe pick me up. Did something happen to prompt this?”
“We talked about moving in with Joe after we get married. Not yet, but in a few months. I couldn’t bring Joe to this house where I shared a bed with Stu. I thought it would be easier for them if we were in a different place that didn’t belong to Stu, you know? God, I’m such an idiot!”
“No, you were right. Just calm down, we’ll find him. I need to get off the call to get a flight.” Her sobs grow louder through the phone and I hate that it’s going to take me so long to get to her. “Hey! Calm down. It’s gonna be okay.”
“Love you, Dex.”
“Love you too, Les.”
I’m sitting on a plane thinking about Marina as we circle Tampa preparing to land. I fucked up and I know it, but I can’t do anything about it now, at least not until I find Rushton and tan his little ass. I’m sure the kid is hiding. He’s pissed and sulking and this has to stop. I can’t jump on a flight like this at the last minute for crap that’s easy to fix, but I can’t leave Leslie to deal with it either. I promised Stu I’d be there and this is when it counts the most.
I close my eyes and my mind drifts back to this morning when I returned to the room after taking the call. Mari was sitting up in bed with the sheet pulled up to her chest and the light on, waiting for me. The concern in her eyes was clear and I should have taken the 10 minutes to give her an overview, but I was too busy freaking out. When you hear an 11-year-old is missing, you don’t tend to be rational. Especially when an Amber Alert has been issued. Instead of explaining what was going on, I went straight to my closet, grabbed a duffel bag and started filling it with clothes. I’m not even sure what’s in the damn thing except my sneakers and a pair of shorts. Mari asked, “What’s going on?”
“I can’t talk about it now; I don’t have time. I’ll be gone for…I don’t know how long. You can stay here. In fact, I don’t want you going home with nothing there. You have a key. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Who’s Leslie?”
“Not now, Marina. We can talk about it when I get home.”
“So, you’re leaving in the middle of the night after getting a call from a woman named Leslie and I don’t get an explanation or an exact time you’re coming back? Are you kidding?”
“Marina, I don’t have time for this shit. I have to go.”
She yanked the sheet from the end of the bed and stood, making sure she was covered. The tears were sitting on her eyelids, but she made sure they didn’t fall.
“Fuck you, Jase. I may be a disaster most days but I deserve more than that load of crap you just handed me. I think it’s funny that I’m good enough to warm your bed for over two weeks but not good enough to get an explanation when another woman is involved. I already told you I refuse to be just another notch on your bedpost, and when you’re on the phone in the middle of the night, telling some woman you love her, that makes me a fucking notch!” She screamed the last of it. I didn’t have time for that scene or to calm her down. That kind of shit is why we would never work anyway.
“Marina, I’ll explain when I get home. I have to go now. Stay here where you have a bed and food. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Before she could say anything else, I pulled the duffel on my shoulder and strode out of the room. The last sound I heard before the door closed is her dam of tears breaking. I’m such an ass. I didn’t have time for it and I told her that. If she’d stopped talking long enough to listen to what I was saying, she’d understand that I didn’t have time and she just needed to wait until I got back for an explanation.
Now that I look back though, I see her point and wish I would’ve at least given her the one-paragraph version of who Leslie is and why I was leaving so abruptly. It wouldn’t have affected my ability to catch my flight. I was just annoyed that she was pushing me for an answer and that her opinion of me seemed to be so low that she’d think I was in love with someone else while I’ve had her in my bed for the last couple of weeks. I haven’t had to explain myself to anyone for a long time and I don’t feel like starting now.
The only problem with all of my excuses is I feel like shit about not telling her what’s going on. I shouldn’t, we’ve made no commitment to each other, but I do. I know what kind of life she’s had and I should be making it easier while she’s with me. Instead I added to her pain in an asshole sort of way.
When Joe picks me up at the airport, I’m in a shitty mood and being a dick. I don’t mean to be but getting a call at 0-dark-30 and having a fight with my sort-of girlfriend is not the best way to start the day. So, I’m quieter than usual on the way to the Larkin house. As we’re pulling down her street, Les calls Joe to
tell him they found Rushton at a bus station in Tallahassee, five hours away. He was headed for Colorado. How did an 11-year-old get a bus ticket to Colorado? The kid is conniving and smart enough to be dangerous, just like his dad was so it shouldn’t surprise me.
We both breathe a sigh of relief that he’s found and when Joe puts the car in park, he says, “I’m sorry, man. I’m doing my best to help them navigate this shit, but it’s tough. Stuart is a tough man to walk behind and I don’t know if I can do it. Not if every announcement is going to have the world in an uproar like this. I want to make their lives better, not worse, and when you see Leslie during this you’ll know it’s not better.”
He’s pissing me off. It takes me almost a full minute to remind myself that he’s not used to fighting for everything so this has to be tough for him. “Fuck, man. You can’t give up now. Les is happy, happier than she’s been in a long time. The kids will be fine, but you’ve got to man up and roll with it. Rushton will eventually get it. Right now, he’s in turmoil. He’s 11 years old and caught between becoming a man and staying the little boy he’s always been. Add to that a dead father and his mother moving on, and you should understand a little better.”
“You don’t think I should back off?” He looks shocked.
“Why would I think that? Because her son doesn’t like the way things are going?”
“I know how you feel about them.”
“Yeah, I love them all, but he’s 11, man. When I was that age, I was living in foster home number eight and fighting off the uncle that liked to visit too often. That’s an issue. Having too many people love you and want to take care of you is not an issue. He needs to get over it and I’m gonna be the one to tell him it’s time. He needs some tough love for a change. The coddling isn’t working. Just hang tight. They’re worth it. I promise you that.”
“I didn’t hear you say this many words the whole time you were here last time.”
