Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion

by Fawkes, Sara

  I couldn’t help a smile from tugging up the corners of my lips.

  “You’re very easy to tease. You’re going to have to work on your poker face.” I eyed him over the

  rim of my mug. “So... why law school?”

  “Seemed like the thing to do.” He had the good grace to grin when I groaned, though I thought saw

  a ripple of unhappiness pass beneath the still waters that were his eyes. “What about you? Why

  nursing?”

  I tapped my fingers on the counter for a moment before I answered. I’d gone into nursing because

  my stepfather had been appalled at the notion of me working as a ‘doctor’s handmaiden’, as he put it.

  Women in his family didn’t work—they whiled away their days with lunch at the country club and

  happy pills washed down with vodka lemonade. They did what the men folk told them to, even if what

  those men folk wanted was disgusting.

  But I wasn’t going to tell Mal any of that. Instead I mock glowered.

  “Let me guess. You thought I was an art student? Theatre, maybe? Some starving artist type?”

  Only a hint of irritation flashed through me—I’d long ago decided not to care what other people

  thought of me. “Don’t judge the book’s cover, and all that.”

  Picking up his own mug, he took a long swallow of coffee, eyeing me over the rim. I was

  transfixed by the muscles working in his throat.

  “I happen to think the book’s cover is pretty great too.” The smile that curved his lips melted my

  insides like butter on a sunny day, and it took me a moment to register the compliment. He might have

  been a boy next door type, but that didn’t stop him from being sexy as hell.

  The heat spread lower, and for one crazy moment I thought about kissing him—about fisting my

  hands in that thick hair and sinking my teeth into his lower lip. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t have

  pulled away.

  Something held me back, though we stared at one another for a long, tense moment, his breathing

  growing as ragged to my ears as my own felt in my throat.

  Finally I swallowed and looked down, tucking my neon red hair behind my ears, a shy gesture that

  I wasn’t in the habit of making. I didn’t know what it was, but something about this guy was different.

  I squashed the thought as quickly as I could. He might have been into me, but I refused to believe

  it was with anything but that ‘zoo’ quality I’d commented on moments earlier. I was like an exotic

  bird that had come into his orbit. He wanted me, but he would have no idea what to do with me if he

  caught me.

  And when he set me, the exotic bird, free because he didn’t know what to do with me, my heart

  would be crushed. Just because I was quirky, didn’t mean I couldn’t get my heart broken.

  I certainly wasn’t going to say any of this to him. I wanted him, and I was pretty sure he wanted

  me back. I would have him, but it would have to be on my own terms. It was the smart thing to do.

  So I forced my favorite saucy smile onto my face and gestured to him casually with my mug.

  “You up for a movie?” I watched his expression waver, pleased that my mood didn’t crash, even

  when faced with possible rejection.

  “I should go study.” His eyes scanned my face, which I hoped was set in a neutral expression.

  I opened my mouth to tell him it was fine, but he cut me off.

  “But as long as you don’t make me watch a chick flick, then this sounds like a hell of a lot more

  fun.” He grinned at me, and I was flooded with more delight than I had anticipated.

  “Dude. You’re just asking for a Pretty Woman marathon.” I grinned when he blanched, feeling

  back on even footing.

  Like I said, I wanted him. But the only people I’d ever cared about in my life had let me down, so I

  wanted to protect my heart even more.

  Chapter Two

  MAL

  I stood at Adele’s front door, that glittery purple frame that she’d glued to the wood at eye level. I

  didn’t know why a person would glue anything to their front door, and I guess that was pretty

  representative of my feelings about her in general.

  The girl confused the hell out of me. We’d been hanging out for weeks and I hadn’t gotten so

  much as a kiss. She wanted me, I was pretty sure, and I sure as hell felt the same. I was lusting after

  her so bad that it actually, physically ached, and I’d had more than one bad moment where I’d had to

  be creative to hide my rock solid erection from her.

  But Adele wasn’t like any of the other girls I’d ever known, the ones who had seemed to be okay

  with a certain pattern of behaviour regarding dates, kissing and sex.

  With Adele I was on uncertain ground, and so I’d been letting her lead. But I was here tonight, a

  dumb bouquet of what the florist had told me were wildflowers in hand, because I wasn’t sure I could

  wait anymore.

  She wasn’t my type, not at all. She didn’t fit into the neat little world I’d carved out for myself, the

  world with the right fraternity, the right degree, the right girlfriend.

  Maybe that was the attraction right there. That little world hadn’t been carved out by me, but by

  my father. Adele represented everything that my old man would hate, which would have made her

  attractive even if she wasn’t, you know, attractive.

  No matter how different we were, I wanted her, I just had no idea how to show her. Looking down

  at the flowers that I was clutching tightly, I shook my head and groaned at my own pathetic self.

  She was going to laugh her ass off at me when I gave these things to her. And then she was going

  to invite me in for yet more coffee.

  I didn’t want any more coffee. I wanted sex. I wanted to know what that pale skin felt like under

  my fingers, wanted to know what her hair smelled like.

  Wanted to know what noise she would make when I drew her nipple into my mouth, when I slid

  my hand between my legs. When I spread those creamy thighs of hers wide and finally, finally slid my

  cock into her wet heat.

  But it was more than just sex, and I knew it. I wanted to possess her, wanted her to be mine. I

  wanted to be comfortable enough to hold her in my arms at night and tell her how much I hated living

  up to what was expected of me.

  “Christ, Hunter. Get your shit together.” I tried to shake thoughts of fucking Adele senseless or

  worse, holding her tenderly, from my mind as I knocked, then wished I’d waited another minute

  because my cock, teased by the erotic mental pictures, had started to thicken, pressing against the stiff

  denim of my jeans.

  If I couldn’t settle myself down, I was going to embarrass myself in more ways than one. Though

  actually Adele didn’t strike me as the kind of girl who would take a boner on her behalf as anything

  other than a compliment.

  I heard the rattle of the deadbolt, and then the door swung open.

  “Hey.” Adele’s voice was one of the sexiest things I’d ever heard. It gave me something to focus

  on besides my nerves when she looked at the flowers I was holding. Some dark emotion flickered

  through her eyes, followed quickly by surprise.

  I felt like an idiot. What was I going to do, ask her to go steady?

  I opened my mouth, to say what, I wasn’t sure. She beat me to it.

  “Are those for me?” Adele sounded as puzzled as she looked as she studied my face. I watched as a

  tentative smile bloomed over those f
ull, gorgeous lips.

  There was an awkward pause during which I realized that this wasn’t a rhetorical question.

  “Uh. Yeah.” I fought the urge to mutter and stare at my feet. I sure as hell wasn’t a virgin, but

  something about Adele made me feel like I was a hormonal teenager again. “They’re wildflowers.

  Like your tattoos.”

  Adele looked from the riot of flowers inked on her forearms to the bouquet that I still held. An

  emotion that I couldn’t quite identify flickered over that perfect, gorgeous face, and relief rushed

  through me.

  “Thank you.” She graced me with that smile that I loved so much, the one that lit up her entire

  face. I was so thrilled that my grand gesture had worked, and was so busy trying to figure out how to

  work in a little kiss, that I didn’t see it coming.

  I felt the coolness of her palms on my cheeks, and then— holy shit—her lips were on mine.

  I think I sucked in a big mouthful of air, but every nerve in my body was suddenly on alert and I

  couldn’t have been sure. I couldn’t have even said if she meant the kiss to be sweet or sexy, because

  my hormones took over and I wrapped my arms around her, tangling my fingers in her hair, and

  kissing her back with all of the sexual tension that I’d stored up in the last few weeks.

  My lips slanted over hers, my tongue tracing the seam. She tasted so good, sweeter than I would

  have expected. Cinnamon and sugar. I let myself get lost in that taste, in the feel of her tongue when

  she finally parted her lips and let me inside.

  Adele braced her hands on my upper arms and broke away from the kiss. I groaned, my breathing

  irregular, the strawberry scent of her hair teasing my nose.

  I tensed, waiting. Wondering if she was about to chew me out for being grabby, though I was

  pretty sure that she’d been kissing me back.

  I held back a grimace when I noted that the bouquet I’d so painstakingly chosen for her was

  flattened, crushed as it had been between our bodies.

  She grinned, and ran her tongue over her lips in a way that didn’t help to ease the erection that was

  becoming more uncomfortable by the second.

  “Boy next door has a rough streak, huh?” She gave me that shit eating grin that I had come to

  associate with her specifically.

  “Only with you.” I didn’t want to feed her any bullshit. I wanted her bad, and now that the cards

  were on the table, I wasn’t going to play coy. I was who I was, a product of my upbringing, but unless

  I was very much mistaken, that was just fine with her.

  She studied me with eyes that were rimmed in something thick and dark, something that made

  them look huge, pools of blue that I wanted to dive into. I shifted beneath the gaze, feeling like she

  was seeing things inside of me that I didn’t necessarily want her to see.

  Things I didn’t want to even think about myself.

  “I like it.” Finally, she spoke, her voice dark with promise.

  That was all I needed, right in that moment. A noise of surprise slipped from between those sexy

  lips of hers when I pulled her to me again, moving us both inside the apartment and shutting the door

  behind us with my heel.

  “Where do you want your flowers?” I asked, my lips still touching hers. I ran a hand up and down

  the length of her spine, enjoying the feel of the bumps of her vertebrae through nothing more than the

  thin cotton of her sleeveless top.

  She wasn’t wearing a bra, her full breasts with their erect nipples scraping over the planes of my

  chest, and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever felt.

  She laughed, the sound a little breathless, and tossed the bouquet to the floor gently.

  “These are gorgeous. But you’ve got something that I want a little bit more right now.” Twining

  one of her long legs around my hip, she pressed her lips to mine again, her pelvis pressing forward

  into mine as she did, and I felt my eyes roll back in my head.

  “Where is your bedroom?” I cringed inwardly as I asked, wondering if it was too forward... not to

  mention I knew where her bedroom was. I’d never been in it, but the apartment was small, consisting

  of a main room with a galley kitchen, a bathroom, and the one other door I’d never darkened. Didn’t

  take a genius to figure it out.

  She didn’t comment, instead shaking her head and staggering with me to the couch.

  “Too far.”

  I landed on my ass when she pushed me down into a sitting position on the faded floral upholstery.

  A groan reverberated through my chest when she showered my lips, my cheeks, my neck with shallow

  kisses before she straddled me and took it deeper, sliding her tongue into my mouth with the

  confidence of a woman who knew what she wanted.

  My hips bucked up when she raked her nails over my shoulders. When those hands slid down to

  my waist, searching for the skin beneath my polo shirt I wondered how long I’d be able to control

  myself.

  Man, how had I waited this long? Had she been waiting for me to make the first move?

  Did it even matter? She was here now, moving like a wild thing in my lap, rubbing the heat of her

  pussy teasingly over the ridge of my cock. And unless I got my shit together, she was going to

  remember me as the guy who just sat there and let her do everything. Or worse, as the guy who came

  in his pants.

  “Hold still.” I barely recognized the voice that came from my throat. Adele paused, an amused half

  smile playing at the corners of her lips. The smile melted into a shocked gasp of what I sure as hell

  hoped was pleasure as I splayed my hands over her butt, tugging her towards me until her heat was

  centered directly over my erect cock.

  Part of me wanted to hold her there, to grind against her until we were both dizzy with want.

  A stronger part thought that we both had too many clothes on. I wanted to strip her naked, feast on

  that flesh that I’d been dreaming about, then plunge inside of her until we both came. Until she was

  mine.

  It took everything that I had to remember that I needed to ask her before that became a reality.

  “How far do you want to take this?” One of my hands moved from her butt, skimming up her

  waist, her ribcage, the side of her breast. She shivered, and I watched the dark circle of her nipple pull

  tight against the thin white cotton of her top.

  “Mal. ” She twisted in my arms, turning until my hand cupped her breast. I squeezed before I could

  think, savouring the sensation of the heavy weight against my palm.

  “You have to tell me.” My free hand moved to her waist and started to inch up the fabric of her

  top. My body was tense, waiting for her to give me the go-ahead, so I could whip the offensive thing

  off and finally press myself against her naked body.

  “I want it all.” Bending forward, she sank her teeth into the cord of my neck. A bolt of heat shot

  through me.

  “Jesus Christ, Adele.” I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold back. Not being inside of her

  was starting to be an actual, physical ache.

  “I don’t have anything.” Sitting back on her heels, her weight pressing forward into my erection,

  she crossed her arms at the waist and stripped her tank up and over her head. I was rendered

  momentarily incoherent by the sight of her naked breasts, the nipples dark rose and tightly contracted,

  punctuating the creamy flesh that I wanted to lap at
with my tongue. “I sure as hell hope you do.”

  “My wallet.” I groaned and cupped both of her breasts in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over her

  nipples. She arched into the touch, that throaty laugh of hers echoing around the small room.

  “Sure of yourself, weren’t you?” Reaching between our bodies without pulling away from my

  touch, she gathered the hem of my T-shirt in her fingers and tried to pull it up and off.

  “Hang on.” I resented having to take my hands from her body, even just long enough to strip my

  shirt over my head. Her busy hands moved immediately to the buckle of my belt, and though my body

  thoroughly agreed with the speed at which she was moving, my mind wanted to slow down just a bit,

  to savour.

  Just in case this was the only time I got to do this—to be here, like this, with her.

  “Slow down, Adele.” My mouth said one thing, my body another as my hips rocked forward,

  seeking her touch. I stopped breathing for a moment when she managed to wrestle the zipper of my

  jeans down and her fingers grazed the rock solid length of my cock.

  “I can’t.” Before I could say anything else, she had my jeans and my boxers pulled down around

  my hips. Her own rough denim brushed over the head of my cock seconds before she wrapped her

  hand around the shaft, and I had to tense my entire body to keep from coming right that second.

  “How come you’re wearing more clothes than me?” I pushed lightly at her hips, until she climbed

  off of my lap, breathless and laughing. I watched intently as she hooked her fingers in the waistband

  of her stretchy jeans and shoved them down her hips and off.

  “Wow.” My mouth dried up as I took her in—Adele Cavanaugh, the girl who had fascinated me

  for months, wearing nothing but a neon pink thong. Her skin was pale everywhere except the places it

  was marked with bright ink, and I could see the shadow of the strawberry and gold curls between her

  legs through the sheer lace of her thong.

  I would remember this for the rest of my life.

  “Are you sure?” The good guy in me had to ask, even as the rest of me wanted to grab her, to wrap

  her hair in my fist and to sink inside of her, balls deep. I pulled my wallet from my pants but hesitated

  to extract one of the two condoms that I had tucked in there before I’d headed off to buy her flowers.