So she didn't give him a choice. Bucking against him, she took him deep. She hooked her ankles against his ass, locking him in place.
“I'm on the pill,” she said. “Just...” she trailed off, rolling her hips against his. “Make love to me,” she whispered. He gritted his teeth, the pleasure undeniable. Sex with Toni was his favorite thing on God's green earth. Better than a pint after a long day. Better than fighting a five-alarm until every last ember was extinguished. Better than being on the ocean, the horizon stretching out for miles in front of him. But was it worth the pain she could cause him? At that moment, hell yes. He pumped into her, hard and fast then slow and soft, not wanting it to end too soon. Nothing was between them now, and the feeling was so intense, he almost couldn't take it. She wrapped her arms around his torso, her hot tongue working against his chest, sucking on his nipples. When she dragged her nails down his back, he almost came out of his skin.
Pushing her down against the leather of the couch, he ground against her, searching for her spot. She arched her back when he found it, her lips parting in a throaty moan. “Baby,” she hissed, her eyelids fluttering. He tangled his hands in her hair, pulling her head to the side, giving him better access to her throat. He sucked on her sensitive flesh as she dug her nails into his ass, not letting him withdraw from her. “We fit each other,” she murmured. “Can't you feel it?”
“I'm sorry,” he heard himself saying. “I'm sorry.”
“I know you love me,” she whispered, her eyes pleading again. He knew in that moment, fuck yes, he loved her. He loved her with everything that was in him. But it didn't matter. He knew how fast love could turn ugly and dirty and destructive. He didn't want to see Toni's face twisted with hate for him. He didn't want her eyes to go cold and distant when she looked at him. Like Gwen. Gwen had ruined him. She was still ruining things.
Toni cried out, and he realized that he was thrusting into her deep and rough, his fingers tight in her hair. She was clinging to him, her lithe body clenched around him. He caught her eye and she shook her head no. Don't stop. So he kept going until he couldn't take it anymore and he exploded inside of her, no condom between them. The thought of filling her with his come sent a shiver of satisfaction down his spine. He kept thrusting inside her as he softened, wanting her release. Praying for it. When it came, she spasmed around him hard, and he felt his come leaking out of her, smearing between them. He wanted to stay here forever like this, he realized, the mess of their passion binding them together.
She shuddered beneath him, her legs loosening as she came down from her orgasm. He kissed her, his lips soft against hers, loving her. Wanting to comfort her. Wishing that things were different. She smoothed her hands over his back, her touch sending sparks shooting off under his skin. His cock jerked between them, already coming back to life. She tasted so good; she felt so good. He was so full of love for her, he couldn't help it. He loved Antoinette St. James, but he was going to leave her.
“You love me. But it's not enough,” she said, reading his mind. A single tear escaped down her cheek. He could hear the anger again in her words, the despair.
“No,” he replied. “It's not.”
Chapter 16
One Month Later
“I love you dear, but if you don't stop playing that song, I can't be responsible for what I will do,” Nat said, as Nina Simone's Plain Gold Ring restarted for the millionth time. Toni rolled over on the couch, covering her eyes with her arm to block out the sun.
“I'll get my headphones,” Toni murmured, but made no move to get up. She could feel her sister's eyes on her and she knew she was a pathetic sight. On a beautiful summer day, she wasn't out enjoying life. She wasn't out having fun with her friends, or jogging in the park, or going to see a show. She was on her couch in her big empty new apartment, half-dozing, half-daydreaming about the day on the boat with O'Donovan, randomly enough.
She heard Nat step down into the living room and she cracked her eyes to watch her. Nat maneuvered around the unpacked boxes of books and clothes, in a sundress that showed off her growing baby bump, and she shoved the window wide open. The light breeze ruffled the curtains, the fresh air flowing in. Then she moved on to the next one and did the same.
“There. That's better. The air was so stale in here.” Nat turned to face her again as Nina Simone's deep silky voice washed over them, the city rumbling distantly in the background. “I know you're going through it right now, but I still want to talk.”
“I don't want to talk about it,” Toni said, rolling onto her stomach and pressing her cheek against the cushion.
“Marietta told me that you're going home in a couple of weeks,” Nat said. “I didn't know you were seriously considering this.”
“I told you that I was going to start looking at other ballet companies. Did you think I was kidding?”
“Yes, frankly. I did think you were kidding.” Nat dropped her hands to her expanding hips. “Why would you want to leave New York?”
“I'm not progressing here. At this rate, I'll never be more than a soloist. There's too much competition.” Toni rolled over to point at the coffee table, which was cluttered with papers and brochures. “I have my list of companies I'm considering, somewhere in all that crap.”
Nat perched on the arm of the couch, and rifled through the clutter, looking for the list. Toni returned to her spot as Nat found the list, jotted on the back of a paycheck stub. “Pacific Northwest, San Francisco, Montreal, Boston, Houston, New Orleans,” Nat read off, her voice giving away her disapproval.
“Pacific Northwest is a really good company,” Toni said.
“Hmmm,” Nat murmured.
“I'm going to try and get out there in a month or so,” Toni said. “After the show wraps up.”
“I know we surprised you with this place, and you're not obligated to keep it as anything more than a pied-a-tierre, but you have a great thing going here. All of your friends are here. And you have family here.”
“I know,” Toni mumbled.
“I just hope you're really thinking it through.”
“I am.” Toni heard Nat lean closer, and she felt her sister's fingers run through her hair. She closed her eyes, enjoying the small comforting movement.
“New Orleans, though? You'd really go back there?” Nat said, softly.
“I promised Marietta I would check it out. I'm more interested in Pacific Northwest, though.”
“Well, a trip home will be good.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Toni murmured. She was looking forward to the trip back to Louisiana. She needed a change of scenery. Everywhere she went in the city, she was looking for an old red truck, and it was getting a little ridiculous. She felt like she was going to go out of her mind soon, honestly.
“So you haven't heard from him?” Nat said, her voice low.
“No,” Toni said.
“It'll get better,” Nat said. “It might not feel like it, but it will.”
“I know,” Toni lied, eyes still closed.
***
O'Donovan felt Brigid's eyes on him and he glanced at her. She smiled and looked away, the Long Island Expressway whizzing by the window outside.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said, laughter in her voice. He turned his eyes back to the road and sighed. “Okay. What was that?” she asked, leaning close.
“What was what?”
“That deep, heavy sigh. Are you not looking forward to seeing your brother?” O'Donovan shrugged and shook his head, because that wasn't it. “Are you worried about me meeting him? Because I don't have to. You can drop me and my boring potato salad by the side of the road and I wouldn't mind,” she said. “As long as you give me train fare.” She laughed and he smiled, despite his shitty mood.
“It's cool,” he said. He didn't know why he was so pissed off, but he knew it didn't really have anything to do with Brigid. She would fit right in at his brother's cookout. She even brought a Tupperware container of potato salad
and a cheap bottle of wine, which his sister-in-law would love. It wasn't her fault he was he was pissed, and he needed to learn to be better about hiding his mood.
It all came down to Toni, really. He knew his decision to end it was right, but that didn't stop him from being angry about it. Angry at himself, for ignoring the red flags and going after her anyway. Angry at Christophe Van der Kind, just because. And angry at Brigid, even, for not being Toni, which made no fucking sense at all. He took the exit toward Freeport, rolling his shoulders. A shot of pain went through his back and he motioned to the glove compartment.
“Can you get me a couple aspirin? There's a bottle in there.”
“Yeah sure.” Brigid swung open the compartment and started rooting around. Then she giggled. “Condoms and aspirin. Can't go wrong with that combination,” she said, holding up a gold foil packet, one eyebrow raised. Another sharp pain shot through him, this time in his chest as the memory came flooding back to him. Toni's legs straddling his hips, her tits in his mouth, her soft moans in his ears...
“Fuck.” He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Sorry about that.”
“No apologies needed.” Brigid tossed the packet back into the glove compartment and rooted around for the bottle of aspirin. She poured out a few on her palm and handed them to him. He tossed them back without water, a low pounding already beginning at the base of his skull.
“About fucking time!” Sean bellowed when O'Donovan and Brigid walked around the side of the house to the pool. The kids screamed in the pool, splashing around, and the dogs barked from inside the house. It was rowdy as always. No room for quiet contemplation, which was exactly what he didn't want. O'Donovan took Brigid's hand and lead her over to his brother, who stood in front of the grill.
“Who is this lovely vision from heaven?” Sean asked, tossing O'Donovan an ice-cold beer from the open cooler.
“Sean, this is Brigid. Brigid, Sean,” O'Donovan made the introductions, cracking open the beer.
“Maddy! Come over here and meet Brigid!” Sean yelled at his wife, who was across the yard by the kitchen door.
“I made a potato salad,” Brigid said holding up the foil-covered bowl.
“Maddy! She made potato salad!” Sean screamed.
“Oh yummo!” Maddy screamed back, rubbing sunscreen on the youngest kid's back.
“I'll take it to the table,” Brigid said, shooting O'Donovan a smile and then making her way over to Maddy.
“Wow, mate. Seriously? Hot piece of A,” Sean said, flipping a burger, like he was a frat boy instead of a 42-year-old father of three. O'Donovan rolled his shoulders again, a drop of sweat making its way between his shoulder-blades.
“She's a schoolteacher,” O'Donovan said, not knowing what else to say.
“Nice,” Sean said, guzzling his beer.
“How's everything around here?” O'Donovan said, looking around at the yard.
“Need a new roof. Erin needs braces. I'm broker than a motherfucker, but what else is new?” his brother said. “How's the city?”
“The same.”
“How're the boys at the 163?”
“Same. Everything's the same.” O'Donovan glanced back at Brigid, who was helping Maddy with the kids.
“Not everything. That's the first girl you brought around since Queen Gwendolyn.” Sean nudged O'Donovan with his elbow. “Wife material, right? You ready to get hitched again, little brother?” O'Donovan shrugged. “Don't let Maddy hear you talking like that. She'll be yacking your ear off about flower arrangements and church dates before you know it.”
“Remember when you told me not to marry Gwen?” O'Donovan said.
“A lot of good that did,” Sean said with a burst of laughter. “I beat your ass though.”
“You didn't beat my ass,” O'Donovan said, temporarily distracted. “But that doesn't matter. I just want to say that you were right.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Sean said.
“I was a fucking idiot,” O'Donovan said, downing the rest of his beer.
“What else is new, little brother?” Sean said with a laugh. “Meat's done!” he yelled and the kids cheered with excitement.
Dinner passed with no incident, beyond one of the dogs getting loose and stealing a hamburger. Sean's cop buddies showed up, their wives and kids in tow. Maddy and Brigid talked up a storm about God knows what. O'Donovan couldn't pay attention, although he tried. The kids squirmed around the table, screaming and arguing. Sean babbled on about sports stats and cop talk with his friends, and O'Donovan would smile and nod and laugh when it was necessary.
As the sun went down and the kids ran around with sparklers in the yard, O'Donovan sat in a lawn chair by the fence, trying to resist the urge to get another beer. He was drinking too much, and he knew it, but he was exhausted from acting like he was enjoying himself. His back ached and his head pounded. Maddy brought out desserts, store bought pies and vanilla ice-cream, and it was stupid, but he couldn't even look at the pies without feeling like he was going to puke. His stomach roiling, he set his head back and watched the kids run around the yard instead, the sparklers lighting up their grubby little faces. He couldn't stop himself from imagining Toni running around in the dark night, laughing and dancing along with them.
That night, with Brigid asleep in his bed, he wandered out into the living room and sprawled on the couch, butt-naked. The anger still simmered under his skin, and it was making him restless. He couldn't sleep and he was tired of tossing and turning in the stifling bedroom. The living room wasn't much cooler, but he felt like he could breathe in there, at least. He rolled over onto his side, finding his phone on the table. He swiped through to the home screen, his thumb hovering over the call button. But there was no way in hell he was going to call Toni after fucking Brigid. That was too much, despite the fact that the need to hear her voice was slowly driving him insane. He wasn't that much of an asshole.
So he did the second best thing. He clicked around, finding the video he'd shot of Toni in the dance studio. The video had gotten him through several sleepless nights, rewinding and replaying until he finally gave up and closed his eyes. As soon as he pressed play, he felt his lips curl into a smile and his body relax. Seeing her after a long day felt good, and he didn't really care to over think why exactly that was.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her arms stretched above her head.
“Nothing.” His voice was muffled.
“You're filming me!” She caught his eye in the mirror, laughing.
Her laugh sent a chill down his spine. He brought the phone close to his face, the light from the screen so bright it hurt his eyes. He watched her dance, her movements smooth, the muscles rippling under her skin. When he snuck up behind her and caught her in his arms, he loved the way her face lit up. He wondered if she was already in love that night in the dance studio. He turned the sound down low, watching her face as she kissed him, and he thought maybe she was. He wondered when she'd fallen for him. What was the exact moment? He replayed the video, looking for answers, but found none. He let the video play through to the end, and he stared at the blank screen, wondering how long would it take him to get over her. In the darkness, with only a video for comfort, he had the ominous feeling he never would.
***
“Toni? Toni St. James!” The liquid smooth voice caught Toni's ear, even though she was staring off in to space, not paying much attention at all. She glanced up, her eyes scouring the coffee shop. Her gaze stopped on a well-dressed blonde, who was waving and hurrying over. Toni's heart sunk when she realized it was Gwen, O'Donovan's ex-wife. “Small world. Of all the Starbucks in the city, right?” Gwen said, laughing as she tucked her sunglasses into her Kate Spade bag.
“Right,” Toni said, in nowhere near as sunny of a mood.
“You know what's so funny? I saw Bastian at the ballet and I said to myself, why would he be at the ballet of all places? And then I looked in the program and lo and behold, there was your name.”
&n
bsp; “You saw him at the ballet? When?” Toni said, sharper than she'd intended.
“Oh, awhile ago. He must really like you if he'd go to the ballet.” Gwen waved her hand and scrunched up her nose. “That's how he is.”
“He's a good sport,” Toni said curtly, turning her head toward the counter, wishing her coffee would materialize so she could make her getaway. But the line in front of her was long, and she cursed her bad luck.
“I used to drag him to those kinds of things all the time. He could be a real pushover when he thought he was going to get lucky afterwards.” Gwen leaned in, her voice low, like they were sharing a secret. “But in the end, it cost me. He resented me for trying to turn him into something he wasn't.”
“What did you think of the show?” Toni asked, changing the subject with a bright smile.
“Well, you've seen Sleeping Beauty once, you've seen it a million times. But your solo was a highlight,” Gwen said. “You brought an extra, I don't know, sassiness to the choreography. I've never seen the movements quite like that before.”
This bitch-! Toni looked at her sharply, but tamped down the anger because she didn't want to cause a scene in her favorite Starbucks, where the baristas all knew just how she liked her coffee. So she laughed, because it was the only thing she could do.
“Do you dance?” Toni asked, keeping her voice light.
“When I was younger. But I didn't have the right stuff.” Gwen said, dragging her eyes down Toni's front. “I don't have your legs.”
“I've been blessed,” Toni said, moving forward as the line shortened.
“So I guess Bastian didn't mention seeing me at the ballet?” Gwen continued. “He can be secretive when he wants to be.”
“No, he didn't. It was a busy night,” Toni drummed her fingers on the countertop.
“Hmm,” Gwen murmured, lifting her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.
Kiss of Fire (St. James Family) Page 19
