I abruptly pull away from his mouth and slip my arms from his hold, leaving him panting as I scoot out from under him.
“What are you doing?” he asks breathless, turning around and sitting up on the jacket.
I hitch my leg over him and straddle his lap. “Something.”
He watches me through hooded eyes as I explore his muscles and tats with my fingertips. When I reach his side, though, I pause as I feel a lightly raised bump.
“What is this?” I ask, leaning down to inspect it closer.
He shrugs indifferently. “Just a scar.”
I gape at him. “Is it from that night?”
He lifts a shoulder and shrugs again. “It’s not that big of a deal, Avery. It could have been worse… way, way worse than me ending up with a tiny scar.”
I shake my head, awestruck. “It is a big deal. You took a knife for me.”
“It’s what anyone would have done.”
I lightly comb through the long strands of my hair. “No, it is a huge deal. I’ve had a knife taken to me more than once and no one stopped it, not even myself.”
His body stiffens underneath me. “Is…?” He cups the side of my neck and his thumb delicately brushes across the hollow of my throat. “Is that what this is from? Or was it from the fire?”
I swallow hard, knowing he can feel the movement of my throat. “It was from Conner.”
“Avery… I can’t stand the thought of how bad he hurt you. It’s haunted me ever since the first day I met you.”
“I know. It haunts me too, but there’s not much I can do about it.”
“I wish there was something I could do.” His fingertips rest above my racing pulse. “Honestly, part of me wants to kill him.”
“Those are some deep words.” My voice is uneven along with my heartbeat.
“But I mean them.” His fingertips drift down the curve of my neck. “I’ve felt that way since the first day I met you.” His thumb softly strokes the scar one more time before he pulls me toward him and entices me toward his lips.
We start kissing again, my body erupting with heat as he lies back down, wraps his arms around me, and brings me with him. I get lost in every deep stroke of his tongue, the irresistible taste of his lips, the overwhelming rock of his hips. My hands wander all over him, down the front of his carved chest, across his taut stomach, to the top of his jeans. His breathing quickens as I undo the button and then drag down the zipper. He immediately starts to protest, but the words get stuck in his throat as my fingers dip down and brush against his swollen cock.
“Jesus,” he gasps, his mouth leaving mine as his head tips back and his eyes drift shut. “That feels so good.”
My pulse slams with eagerness as my hand moves up and down and I watch him in wonder. The way his neck muscles move every time he moans my name… the way his lips part when he gasps… the way his chest rises and falls as he struggles to hold on. Finally, his hands find my waist, grasping me as he flips me over on my back.
Warm skin grazes against my scars as my back sinks deeper into the sand. Things grow more heated as he unhooks the clasp of my swimsuit top, and then his mouth covers my nipple. If I thought his fingers were amazing, it’s nothing compared to his tongue.
I groan as I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, my back arching up from the ground. “God, that feels so good…”
His tongue traces circles as he sucks and gently bites my sensitive flesh. Then giving one last gentle tug, his lips find mine again. Nothing else matters at that moment as our chests crash together, our rapid breathing matching as we kiss the life from each other.
I drown in the way he makes me feel, although not in a helpless way. No, I feel safe. Cared for. Tristan has protected me. Has been there for me. Has taken a knife for me. I feel so at peace.
Maybe even in love.
Suddenly, I lean back and push Tristan away.
“What are you doing?” he asks, breathless, his eyes glazed over as he stares down at me in confusion.
Without answering, I slip my shorts down and lie naked before him in the sand. It’s my first time since that God awful day, but I feel the exact opposite. I’m not scared, ready for it to end. In fact, I want it to last a very long time, which maybe it will. Or it won’t. I can’t be sure. That’s the thing. I can’t be sure about anything really, but shutting down and putting walls up is a lonely life to live.
I don’t want to be lonely anymore.
I want him.
“Kiss me,” I say as I reach for him.
He willingly returns to me, the kiss smoldering with passion and heat. Minutes later, both of our clothes are stripped off, and he’s hovering over me with a condom on, ready to slip inside me.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks as he supports his weight with his arms. He’s breathing profusely, like his lungs can’t keep up with his breaths “Because I can wait—”
I cover his mouth with my hand. “No more waiting. I want this—I want you.”
His breath falters as he nods. This time, when he kisses me, it’s slow, savoring, as if he’s memorizing the feel of my lips. While I kiss him back as I lift my hips, he slides inside me. For a brief moment, I feel pain connected to the last time I had sex. However, it quickly vanishes and all that remains is pleasure.
Want.
Need.
Desire.
For him.
“Good God, Avery,” he groans as he thrusts deeply into me.
I respond by digging my nails into his shoulder blades, begging him closer.
He gives me what I want, slipping deep inside me.
And our bodies join beneath the night sky.
But the stars seem much more distant, much dimmer.
As if they’re fading.
Until they’re completely gone.
And there’s nothing left.
Except Tristan and me.
Chapter 38
The past isn’t quite gone yet.
Avery
It’s early morning by the time Tristan and I leave the beach. Thirty minutes later, he’s dropping me off at The Vibe where my Jeep is parked. My lips are swollen from all the kissing, my body still tingling everywhere that he touched me, and my mind continues to spin over what happened. Part of me worries it was wrong. However, most of me believes it was right. And I feel so happy, so content, more than I have in a very long time.
“Drive safely,” Tristan whispers after he’s done kissing me goodbye. “And, please, call me if you need anything. In fact, call me when you get home, just so I know you’re safe.”
I nod and then get out of the car. He waits until I’m in my vehicle and the engine is started before he drives away with me following him to the exit where we turn in opposite directions. As his taillights fade in my rearview mirror, I suddenly feel so lonely. The loneliness only increases when I realize that, in just a few short weeks, I’ll watch him leave permanently.
“This sucks,” I mutter as I turn down a side road that is lined with trees and empty land being prepped for development. “Maybe I was wrong to let him in my life.” But as soon as I say it, I know I’m wrong. I’ve regretted a lot of things in my life—big, scarring things—but my time with Tristan isn’t now, nor will it ever be, one of those things.
As I make the journey home, smoking a cigarette, I drift into my thoughts over what I’m going to do when it’s time for Tristan to go. I’m halfway home, driving on one of the empty back roads, when I hear a rasping noise behind my seat. My hairs stand on end as I realize I’m not alone in the car.
Keep driving. Keep driving. Pretend everything is okay.
I flick the butt of my cigarette out the window, glance over at my phone on the passenger seat, and then reach for it to text Tristan.
“Don’t even think about it.”
I jerk back at the sound of Conner’s voice and almost veer off the road into a tree. Regaining control of the car, I swerve back onto the road, the tires skidding against the
asphalt.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” My knuckles whiten as I grasp the steering wheel. “And how did you get into my car? The doors were locked.”
He rises up from the back seat and leans over the console to snatch up my phone. “I think you know me well enough to know locked doors aren’t going to stop me.”
“If that’s true, then why are you just getting to me now? Was it to torture me?”
He rests his heavily tattooed arms on the console, close enough that I can smell the booze flowing off him. “That was part of the reason. I was also being careful.” He reaches for a strand of my hair, and I lean my head to the side. “I didn’t want to give the cops a reason to put me in jail again.”
“You’re breaking your restraining order right now,” I remind him, “which means jail time.”
He waves me off, sitting back in the seat and fiddling around with my phone. “They’ll never catch me. Besides, even if they did, I’d get out in a few months and be right back in your life.” A dark look crosses his face as he reads something on the screen. “So this is what you’ve been up to… you dirty, little skank.”
What the hell is he looking at?
I desperately want to reach back and snatch my phone away but know it will only make things worse, so I clutch onto the wheel. “I don’t want you in my life anymore, Conner. I just want you to leave me alone. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, so give me my phone back and get the hell out of my car.”
“All you’ve ever wanted.” He leans forward, getting in my face, his breath burning my cheeks. “What about what I wanted? Like a life not tied down to a family. Or a wife who doesn’t nag.” He punches the seat beside my head and I flinch, my hands starting to tremble. “All that time I spent with you and for what? To end up in jail.”
“You did it to yourself,” I say. “You chose to deal drugs and to… well, make me pay back your debt that day.”
“I would have never been caught if you hadn’t set the place on fire!” he screams in my ear. “Only a psychopath does that!”
My eardrums are ringing, fear slams through my pulse, and I’m gasping so hard my vision is spotting. I should pull over the car, but I’m worried of what he’ll do to me if I stop driving.
“Only a psychopath whores out their wife and lets her get raped while he watches,” I bite back venomously. It’s the first time I’ve ever gotten a chance to yell at him for what happened, and it feels good. Way fucking good. “Do you know how fucked up that was?”
“You didn’t do anything to stop it,” he growls. “You just laid there and took it like the whore you are.”
I slam on the brakes and the car lurches forward, sending him flying over the console toward the window, but he sticks his arm out and catches himself at the last second.
“You fucking cunt!” he screams as he falls into the passenger seat. “I’m going to make you pay for that so much that you’ll regret the day you met me!”
“I regret that already!” I shout, gasping for air, terrified and enraged out of my mind. “For years now, I’ve wished I could go back and never agree to go out with you!”
“Well, sucks to be you since you can’t erase your past.” He smirks at me as he opens the door and gets out.
I’d be relieved, but I know him well enough to know it’s not over.
He holds up my phone and sneers. “Payback’s a bitch.” Then he slams the door and strides toward the back of the Jeep.
I wait for him to round it and come at me from the driver’s side, but he continues to head down the road toward the highway. I think about going after him, know that whatever reason he has my phone can’t be good, but what would I do when I caught him? Regardless of me moving on, in the end, he’s still stronger than me and can hurt me if he wants to. No matter what I do—whether I move on, find someone else, or fall in love—he will always be there, never allowing me to let fully go of my past, no matter how much I want to.
Huffing in frustration, I punch the gas and drive forward, ready to get home. But Conner’s words echo in my mind.
Payback’s a bitch.
What did he mean by that? What could he possibly pay me back with on that phone? I think about what I have on there. Nothing incriminating. Just contacts and texts…
Something else Conner says flashes through my mind.
So this is what you’ve been up to, you dirty little skank.
Tristan and I have been texting each other off and on, and while our conversations haven’t been dirty, they’ve been flirty enough that it could be clear something’s going on between us. Conner might not have Tristan’s address, but it’s a small town. I’m sure he won’t have trouble tracking him down.
What should I do? Call Tristan? I don’t know his number other than he’s contact number ten on my log. I could wait, but I’m worried it’ll be too late by then. I could go home and call the police, but what would I say? My ex-husband stole my phone? It would be about as helpful as the restraining order.
Without any hesitation, I make a decision and turn the car around, heading away from my home and to Tristan.
Chapter 39
It’s time for this to end.
Tristan
After I get back to the motel, I spend the next couple of hours standing outside and smoking while watching the sun clip the sky as I reflect on what happened. Avery and I had sex. I had sex for the first time simply because I wanted to. I wasn’t high, wasn’t searching for anything. I only wanted Avery.
And she wanted me back.
That thought puts a smile on my face as I turn to go inside. The sky is greying with morning. I’ll probably get an hour of sleep before I have to get up again, but I don’t care. It was worth it.
I’m reaching for the doorknob when my phone vibrates from inside my pocket. I fish it out, a smile touching my lips when I see the message is from Avery. But my elation plummets when I read the text.
Avery: So what’s it like sleeping with my wife?
My hand falls from the doorknob. “What the fuck?”
Panic sets in. Conner. The message is from Conner. What the fuck do I do?
Call the police.
“I’m going to fucking kill him if he touched her.” I switch to the dialing pad to make a call when I hear someone laugh from beside me. I look to my right and my grip tightens on the phone.
“Easy there,” Conner says as he leans against the side of the motel with a phone in his hand. “No need to go killing anyone over a girl.”
“What did you do to her?” I inch toward him with my jaw clenched. “If you touched her, I swear—”
“If I touched her?” he snaps, striding toward me. “I have every right to touch her. She’s my wife.”
“Ex-wife,” I remind him as he slams to a stop in front of me. I don’t cower back, even when he leans toward my face. I remember the first time we got into a fight like this, only it was because I stepped in front of Avery. Now it’s me he wants, and now it’s me he’ll get. Only this time, he’s not going to get the better of me. This time, I’m not some druggie craving a bag of meth more than my feelings for Avery. I’m stronger, both mentally and physically, and I have a clear head. A really, really clear head that lets me remember what he did to Avery and allows me to feel just how badly I want to make him pay for what he did.
For her.
“She may be my ex-wife,” he breathes in my face, “but you have no right to touch her.”
“No, you have no right to touch her.” I lean in closer, my fists balled, my muscles wound tight. “I know what you fucking did to her, you piece of shit, and you’re going to pay for everything you did to her.”
He lets out a growl and raises his fists, but he stops when the door to the side of us swings open. Zedd stumbles out, blinking his bloodshot eyes. He takes one look at us then a smirk spreads across his face
“Oh, good, I see you’ve met Skullman,” he sneers at me as he starts to shake with excitement, jacked up on something.
> “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter, looking back at Conner. “You’re the dumbass that calls himself Skullman?”
“And you’re the fucking asshole who owes me five hundred bucks.” A slow grin twists at his lips, utterly pleased by this bit of news as he spans his arms out to the side and laughs, giving me a good view of fresh track marks on his skin. “Beating you up just got a whole lot better.”
Wreck Me (Nova #4) Page 35
