Entangled: A Novel of Romantic Fantasy (Wanderlust Academy Book 1)

by Lori Wilde

  There was a light rap on the door before it opened. Troy came in with a tray of food.

  “Hey, you’re awake. Must be hungry, since the last thing that went into your mouth was pig’s blood.”

  I shifted in the bed as my stomach roiled, and he flashed a wicked grin. “Kidding.” He set down the tray on the night table. “Anyway, this will taste better.”

  I watched his forearms flex as he set down the tray and poured me some water.

  “You know, dinner in bed would be much better with you in it. Better yet, we could just skip dinner altogether.” I patted the empty space next to me.

  He raised an eyebrow. “How’s your arm.”

  I rotated it, demonstrating the full range of motion I had. “Perfectly fine.” I crooked my finger. “So are you coming?”

  He hesitated, clearly torn. Inhaling a measured breath, he sat down on the edge of the bed next to me. “Nora. I told you I wasn’t going to make love to you until I could have all of you. Not just your body, but your heart and soul and mind.”

  “They already belong to you,” I said quietly. The words were simple and raw but couldn’t have been more honest. Every piece of me that mattered already belonged to him. Now I wanted to give him all that remained.

  He moved closer. “I want you, Nora. I’ve wanted you for a very long time. But I’ve had the benefit of knowing what I want a lot longer than you have. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “I’m sure you’re what I want.” My voice was coated with need. I reached up to tangle my hands in his t-shirt. “I’m done waiting.” I pulled him forward.

  He straddled my body, one knee on either side of my hips.

  “Last thing I’d want to do is keep a lady waiting,” he said, and I wanted to swallow him whole.

  His leg slipped between mine. Then he lowered his mouth to mine.

  My hands slid down his chest to the edge of his shirt, then grabbed hold and pulled it up over his head. He slipped his arms out effortlessly but made no move to undress me. As soon as my hands were free, I started unbuttoning my shirt. He watched with a slow burn in his eyes. When I was down to the last button, he pressed his forehead to mine. “Do you have any idea how goddamn gorgeous you are?”

  Suddenly I had pangs of guilt gnawing at my insides. Sure, I wanted this, wanted him, more than anything...but what would this do to him? His career, his school, his name. I’d hate to put any of that in jeopardy because of my runaway desires.

  I bit down on my lip, and he pulled back, easing away from me and balancing his weight on his elbow. His eyes searched my face. “What’s wrong? Do you want to stop?”

  “Never. But being with me could be dangerous for you.”

  His mouth quirked up at the corners.

  “I’m serious. You heard the threats Steve made. It sounds like the sort of jerky thing he’d carry out.” The words tumbled out quickly. Bringing up the idiot Kenzie was dating was a total mood killer, but I couldn’t be so selfish, not when he had so much to lose.

  “I don’t give a damn about his threats,” he said. “I came from nothing, and I’m not afraid of risking it all for someone I love.” He stroked his knuckles across my cheek. “You are more than worth the risk. If this is what you want.”

  My mouth parted slightly, but he pressed a finger to my lips. “But I want more than a casual fling with you, Nora. And temporary isn’t what I had in mind. Never was.” His knuckles slid along my jaw, then he cupped my chin in his hands. He leaned in, and in that moment—a moment I’d wanted since the first time we met—my eyes fluttered closed in surrender. I wanted this. I wanted him.

  I could hear my own heart thumping, matching the tempo of his. He went slowly, taking each step with agonizing attention. His tongue swept my lower lip, and my mouth parted. I’d rehearsed self-denial for more years than I could remember, but this moment, his lips pressed to mine, his hands tangled in my hair—sliding down my arms, unbuttoning my shirt—all restraint dissolved in a wave of need and desire.

  He hadn’t shaved, and the roughness of his jaw against my skin felt right. Shivers skated over my skin as his kiss deepened. I moaned against his lips. When he pulled back for a breath, I cursed the need for oxygen.

  I still hadn’t answered him, since speech required more self-control than I had right now. I reached my arms around his neck to pull him closer. His hands slid down my arms, sliding my shirt off my shoulders, and my shorts over my hips, until they lay crumpled beneath me. My skin broke out in nervous goosebumps everywhere his hand touched.

  Exhaling, I let myself breathe out all the pent-up emotions I was holding, the elation, excitement, and of course fear. For a second it was the fear that overpowered me, but I pushed it aside as I wiggled under him. I pressed my hand to his chest, feeling its rapid rise and fall. It matched my own, quick and shallow. He wanted this too.

  His hand covered mine, then slowly he drew it up to his mouth. He held it against his lips as his eyes fell closed. That one tiny act soothed all my fears, leaving me with the knowledge that this was right.

  Our kisses intensified, and I rocked beneath him as he reached down to slide out of his pants. Then he was back on top, his fingers entwined with mine. He pinned my arms above my head, gently, still uncertain of my arm as he let go.

  “It’s fine. I want you to relax,” I reassured him breathlessly. I arched under him, and he let out a slow groan deep in his throat.

  He gripped my hips firmly. “And I want to give you what you want.”

  His kisses trailed down my body, skimming my breasts, across my stomach, and I shivered as they traveled below my navel.

  “I want to taste you,” he whispered, dipping his head down.

  Endless sensations exploded inside me with every stroke of his tongue. I writhed and bucked in agonizing pleasure under him, lifting my hips to his mouth. The feelings rippling through me were exquisite. It was like imploding and exploding at the same time.

  He shifted his body upward to gaze at me with eyes dark with desire. “A woman who knows what she wants is so damn sexy.” He kissed me and pulled back, his hooded eyes watching me. “So, tell me, Nora…” Another kiss. His tongue explored my mouth as his fingers teased and explored every curve before they slipped in between my thighs, stroking until I couldn’t take anymore. “Tell. Me. What. You. Want.” He punctuated each word with a gentle thrust.

  My back arched violently.

  “I want you,” I panted. “Only. You.”

  His eyes blazed down at me. With a murmur of satisfaction, he shifted his weight, sliding a hand under my hips. I repositioned myself, opening my legs as my thighs started to tremble.

  Kissing me, he pushed inside—my fingers dug into his back as I cried out. Like magic, his body fell into mine, fitting perfectly, with an exquisite pinch of pain, followed by endless waves of pleasure. Our rhythmic pace intensified.

  His head dipped to my neck. “Nora,” he ground out, thrusting deeper. “God, I love you.”

  My legs locked around him desperately, every muscle clenched inside me. “Please. Don’t. Stop.” I gasped shallow breaths as he moved faster, harder in a frenetic cadence, until my whole body shuddered in response. I shook against him, tremors rolling over me, and I buried my face in his neck to muffle my moans. Troy groaned, his muscles quaked violently, and we drowned in a thunderous sea of bliss.

  Once.

  Then again.

  “Still such self-restraint,” he muttered, flicking his tongue across my earlobe and unleashing a flurry of tingles. “This time I want you to let go. Completely.”

  I wasn’t expecting it, but the pleasure started to build a third time, expanding through me like warm waves.

  Troy pressed his mouth to my neck. “Come for me, Nora,” he uttered fiercely against my ear.

  It wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter. I was limp against him, powerless to do anything but let him take me. I had to bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming out loud.

  “Surr
ender to me,” he commanded as his fingers slid into me.

  I did as I was told, riding the tidal wave of ecstasy—because Oh God—resisting was not possible. Clenching his hair in my hands, I gasped staggered breaths as he stroked me until I came again—and with a cry, the crest of release crashed down, drowning me in its current.

  After the uncontrollable quivering ended, I rested my head against his chest…breathless…satiated…consumed.

  “Troy—” I panted. But there wasn’t enough oxygen left in my lungs or brain to form words.

  He nuzzled my neck and murmured, “I love how you say my name. Say it again.”

  I shivered against him, and he held me closer. My lips parted, and words slipped seamlessly from my tongue—“I love you, Troy.”

  My voice trembled with raw and intense emotion that frightened me. Because I knew from this irrevocable moment forward, we would be entangled in one another, forever.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sometime later, in the quiet aftermath of holding one another, I turned in his arms, propping myself onto my side. “So, this was what I was running from? Seems pretty crazy now.” I leaned back, folding my hands behind my head. “You can consider my mind officially blown.”

  “Glad you think so.” He kissed my forehead, each cheek, and finally my lips, before climbing out of bed. He slid on his boxers. “I need water before sleep, how about you?”

  I nodded. “But I don’t think sleep will be happening anytime soon.” Not the way my toes were still tingling.

  He was pensive for a moment. “You can sleep, Nora. I’ll protect you and fight off anyone who tries to hurt you in your dreams.”

  I laughed a little. “With what?”

  “With whatever it takes.”

  “That’s sweet, but what I mean is, sleeping isn’t really what’s on my mind right now.” I held his gaze, waiting for my meaning to sink in.

  “Well,” he gave me a dangerous grin, “we can watch TV for a while, and then I can proceed to blow your mind again.”

  I watched his lean body leave the shadows next to the bed until he entered the circle of light cast by the hallway sconce. Part of me wanted to call him back and refuse to let him ever leave my side again.

  I was still basking in the waves of bliss as I reached across the bed to the night table and pulled open the drawer. I fished around for the TV remote, and then peered inside when I didn’t find it.

  No remote—but something else caught my attention. A picture. A picture of—my house? The same picture as the one I had on my bookshelf, the one Troy had stared at for ages. I picked it up slowly. For a second my heartbeat stilled, and I wondered why he’d taken it. But then I realized it wasn’t the same size as mine. This one was older, more handled, with creases and folds. But it was my house...the one I grew up in. Why would he have this saved in a drawer?

  The door opened, and soft amber light from the hallway flooded him, illuminating his features.

  My mind was reeling. I wanted to say something, but I wasn’t sure what. Sliding back against the headboard, I watched the sliver of light grow smaller then disappear as he closed the door, leaving us both in the shadows.

  By the time he reached the bed carrying two glasses of water, I was sitting upright, knees bent, the sheets drawn up under my chin.

  He set one glass on the table next to me and leaned in for a quick kiss but stopped midway. Questions lined his face as he sensed something was up. His dark gaze flicked from my face to the open drawer, then finally rested on the photograph gripped in my hand.

  For an uncomfortable length of time, neither one of us spoke. Finally, we both started at the same time.

  “Why do you have this?”— “I can explain.”

  I waited, matching his stare with my own, but no explanation came.

  “Where did you get a photo of my house, and why is it in your bedroom?” I said it louder this time, as the sense of panic swelled. Something told me I was not going to like the answer.

  His hands washed over his face. “Nora. Listen, I’ve wanted to tell you this, but...”

  “But what? What this time? You lied to me about Celeste; are you going to lie about this too?”

  He tried to touch my arm, but I pulled back, raising my hands in front of me. “Just tell me what the hell is going on.”

  Troy perched on the edge of the bed next to me, and I slid further away from him. The opposite of what I’d done just moments before.

  It didn’t go unnoticed, and I saw the pain sweep through his eyes. “I told you about the dreams, but not why I had them. I was just a kid. There was this house behind the park where I rode my bike. I stopped in front of it every day. No idea why, but I used to listen to the voices. They were always loud. Angry and screaming, full of rage and hatred. Like mine,” he said. “Then one day there was a little girl’s voice, small, frightened, crying.”

  Prickles chased down my arms as he spoke.

  “I used to creep up to the window to look inside. The girl was younger than me by a few years. Small and fragile. She would curl up in a ball in the kitchen, her skinned knees drawn up under her chin, tears streaming down her face. It broke my heart in a million pieces. I used to imagine taking her away from that hateful place. Then, one day, I did.”

  I sucked in a slow breath, as his words formed the missing pieces of an ancient puzzle in my mind. They flew one by one into sharp focus.

  Troy dragged a hand through his hair as he studied my expression—likely a mix of shock and horror—but he forced himself to continue.

  “There was a fight one Sunday afternoon, worse than most. But this time when I looked in the window, I didn’t see the little girl. I saw the man, and he had a knife. He slashed at the woman. She screamed. Then as she doubled over, she pulled open a drawer and grabbed a gun. She said it had three bullets. One for him. One for her. And one—for Nora.” He paused, choking on memories he remembered so vividly, memories I’d all but forgotten.

  My world froze.

  “I was scared, but even more when I saw you in the distance, walking from the den toward the kitchen. There was so much blood.” He shook his head, and his gaze lowered to his hands fisted on his lap. “I dropped my bike under the window and ran to the back door. I slipped in, grabbed your trembling hand, and slipped out before the first gunshot rang out. Your mother must have heard the screen door slam, because she saw me—saw us—as we ran from the house as fast as we could. We were almost too far away to hear the second shot.”

  He stopped talking when he saw the silent tears streaming down my face.

  I curled into myself with my knees drawn up under my chin. There wasn’t a ball tight enough I could curl into to protect me from the onslaught of memories flooding back to me.

  Troy’s face twisted in pain. “Nora, I’m so sorry. I know you don’t remember any of this, and I wanted it to stay that way. Grace warned me it was too soon to tell you. I wanted to protect you from it. Always.” He reached out to wipe away my tears but lowered his hand when I drew back.

  This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

  “The picture of the house was my only connection to you for years. I took you to my foster parents, and they called the police. Then your grandparents took you away,” he said softly. “That was the last time I saw you until last year when you walked into my classroom. But I’ve been dreaming of you ever since.”

  For a blinding moment, my mind went blank. It literally emptied of all thought, and reality floated soundlessly away. I hovered in blissful nothingness.

  For a moment.

  Then it all came crashing back into me full force. This wasn’t happening. Everything went numb. I think I might be having a panic attack. Sweaty palms. Rapid heartbeat. Inability to move. Or breathe.

  I stared into his pained gaze, blinked once, and immediately fell apart. Memories flooded back, each one more gut-wrenching than the next, until I couldn’t take it and my mind shut down. I fell asleep, sobbing against his chest.

&nb
sp; Chapter Thirty-Two

  It was still dark when I woke up. Troy’s deep slumbered breaths filled the darkness. I had no idea what time it was. Or what day it was. All I knew was I had to get away. From him. From the memories. From this place. From the unbearable ache in my chest. Tear-stained and numb, I slipped out of his bed and into my clothes, then like the time before, I stole away into the night and ran back to my cabin. I had to work in the morning, and I still didn’t know how I was going to do that…act upbeat and happy when it felt like everything I knew was crashing down around me.

  Kenzie thankfully was either still sleeping or at Steve’s cabin when I got in, which gave me time to shower and crawl back into my bed. How could I stay here? There was too much going on, and I didn’t know how to deal with any of it. And this—being on the brink of an emotional breakdown—was exactly the sort of thing Grace would be all over. She’d probably want to amend the terms of my contract to include even more therapy sessions with her. I didn’t want to talk about this. I wanted to forget it. To lose myself in my imaginary world, where my imaginary boyfriend protected me. Only he wasn’t imaginary, and he wasn’t my protector. Troy was.

  The knocking that came a sleepless hour later didn’t surprise me any more than seeing Troy on the front porch at dawn did. He was freshly showered, dressed in khaki shorts and a white shirt, but he still looked like hell. The dark skin under his eyes showed he’d had about as much sleep as I had, which was basically none.

  “Can I come in?”

  I nodded and stepped aside to let him in. He didn’t try to kiss me, and for the first time I was glad. None of this was his fault, but I felt raw and angry. Like he’d betrayed me in some way, and I didn’t know how to get past that.