Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion

by Fawkes, Sara

  fate”.

  “Actually, as you just said, we’re called Three Little Words. But I’ll keep Fucking Fate in mind,

  just in case.”

  She was so cute when she rolled her eyes, I could no longer resist the urge—I had to touch her.

  Though what I really wanted was to strip her naked and kiss and taste every inch of her, I settled for

  reaching out and cupping her cheek in my hand.

  I’d have her naked soon enough.

  It was a chaste touch, but she trembled beneath my fingers. Whatever this was between us, she felt

  it too.

  “So. Will my phone be coming to our show tomorrow night?” I tried to keep my voice light, but I

  felt anything but.

  I wanted her there. Wanted to sing, just for her.

  Her lips curled up in a smile, even as her lips parted when I brushed my thumb along her

  cheekbone.

  “Yes. Your phone will be there.” A shadow danced through her eyes. “Will Mal be there?”

  “He said he would be.” I traced down her cheek, then over her lips. The heat of her breath on my

  fingers made my mind stray to very dark, very dirty places.

  “You two living together makes this... all of this... very awkward.”

  I understood what she was saying. She wasn’t choosing yet. I didn’t want her to.

  “It’s only awkward if we make it awkward.” My fingers stroked down her neck, coming to rest on

  the pulse point beneath the sleek line of her jaw. This was the realization that I’d come to in the

  middle of the night.

  The thought of Adele being with most other men made me want to chain her to my bed and keep

  her there until she came to her senses. But when I thought about her with Mal...

  Maybe it was because she’d been his first, but I found that I didn’t mind, which was a shocking

  realization for me, given how violently I reacted to the idea of Adele with anyone else.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I’m not ever going to make you choose.” Which didn’t stop me from wondering if

  she would choose, even if I didn’t ask her to, but that was getting far ahead of myself.

  Well, I’d give her something to keep me in mind if she saw Mal again before she saw me.

  “Make sure my phone comes to the show tomorrow night.” Bending, I brushed the lightest, merest

  whisper of a kiss over her lips. It took everything I had not to bury my hands in her hair and dive in to

  the sweetness that she offered, because that slight press of our lips was the most electric fucking touch

  I’d ever expected.

  Over the years I’d learned the value of delayed gratification. The more work that went into

  something, the better the reward at the end. So even though I want to devour her whole, I cast her a

  cocky smile and walked away.

  If a chaste little kiss was that mind blowing, what would it feel like when we were naked together,

  when I was moving inside of her?

  I couldn’t wait to find out.

  MAL

  I smelled Adele’s perfume the second that Dorian walked through the door. The scent of ripe

  strawberries, ready to be tasted, hung on the air around my roommate as he toed off his Converse and

  nodded in my direction.

  I opened my mouth to ask if he’d just seen her; then forced myself to close it again.

  I had no right to her, none at all. But that kiss last night had told me that the connection between us

  was still there—was still potent and intoxicating.

  I wanted to do right by Adele this time. But I also didn’t want to let her go.

  “It’s fucking hot in here.” Dorian cast over his shoulder at me as he turned to hang his leather

  jacket on the hook screwed into the wall. In defense against the autumn chill outside, the heaters in the

  ancient building had whirred to life. But they’d come on a little strong, and Dorian was right—it was

  fucking hot. So hot I’d stripped down to my boxers and a T-shirt and was still a bit sweaty.

  No doubt it was the heat that was intensifying that scent of ripe fruit, making it smell like Adele

  had been wrapped right against Dorian, skin rubbing on skin.

  I wasn’t jealous... not exactly. But I wasn’t really sure how I felt, other than that I wanted to see

  her again. Wanted to know what had changed her, and how I could fix it.

  “Haven’t you taken a look at the heater?” Dorian cast an exasperated look my way, swiping his

  arm over his forehead. As he stalked to the old fashioned register that stood against the living room

  wall, he pulled his T-shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside.

  How the hell was the dude so built when all he did was prance around on a stage with a guitar a

  couple nights a week? The dampness on his skin from the heat of the room showcased a hard back,

  shoulder blades emphasized by tattoos that looked like wings, a narrow waist, and lean hips.

  I was pretty confident in my own body—I’d filled out some in recent years. But Dorian—I’d never

  looked at a dude that way, but I could why chicks were always so into him. His body, the way he

  walked, it all just screamed sex.

  The realization made my cheeks flush. Hastily I looked back down at the book in my lap. What

  was I doing, looking at Dorian and thinking about all the things that a woman might find sexy about

  him?

  “You’re from Australia. It’s hot there. So shouldn’t this be, like, the mother ship calling?” To

  break the tension I stood, made my way to the tiny fridge. Dorian had gotten a wrench from

  somewhere and was doing something with the radiator. I found I wanted to watch him do it, and that

  made me more than a bit uncomfortable.

  It was Adele, thoughts of sex with Adele. Of the way Adele might be thinking of sex with Dorian.

  It was all jumbled together in my head. That was all.

  It was really hot in here.

  “Want a beer?” I grabbed two cans from the fridge. They immediately clouded over with

  condensation, the heat of the room sapping their chill.

  “Thanks, mate.” With one last turn of something on the radiator, Dorian threw the wrench to the

  floor, then cracked open his beer. The hissing of pressure leaving the can was swallowed in the gurgle

  of the radiator as the flow of heated air eased.

  “Dude, you rock.” The room seemed instantly cooler, and I collapsed back onto the couch,

  gesturing to Dorian with my beer.

  “Cheers.” He raised his back, turning on the TV before settling on the other end of the couch.

  I was uncomfortably aware of the fact that we were both wearing less clothing than usual, and I

  had no idea why that even registered with me. The silence stretched between us, heavy with

  awkwardness.

  “This isn’t an ideal situation.” When I finally managed to speak, I could hear the tightness in my

  voice. “This thing with Adele.”

  Draining his beer, then tossing the can across the room to the area we’d roughly dedicated for

  recycling and trash, Dorian leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. Though he was speaking

  to me, he looked straight ahead, and I wondered if he was feeling uncomfortable, too.

  “Look, mate, I’ll tell you the same thing I just told Adele. Something I figured out last night.”

  A stab of something that was potent but that I couldn’t quite label as jealously worked through my

  gut. I nodded for him to continue, even though he wasn’t looking at me and couldn’t have seen.

  “I’m into her, y
eah. Who wouldn’t be? And there’s something still there between you two.” At this

  he turned his head to look at me, and I met his gaze steadily.

  I might not have any claim on her, but I wasn’t about to shove her into Dorian’s arms.

  “I don’t like the thought of her with anyone else, but I don’t mind the notion of the two of you. So,

  we’ll both spend time together with her. And there will be no hard feelings unless one of us makes it

  that way.”

  Frowning a bit, I tried to absorb what he’d just said. It seemed like such a strange suggestion from

  a man who was possessive, cocky and domineering. I was sure that I’d missed something.

  “Like, we each date her, or we date her together?” A jolt went through me as I said the words.

  I’d rather date her exclusively. But if it meant that I could have at least part of Adele...

  I realized that I might be willing to bend some of my previously held notions. And that shocked

  me to the core in more ways than one.

  Looking over at my roommate, I found that he’d fixed me with an inscrutable stare. My pulse

  picked up its pace as I tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

  “Each of us date her separately, dumbass,” he finally said, standing and heading to the fridge.

  Once there, he looked back over his shoulder. “Unless you’re trying to tell me something.”

  He was having a go at me, and I knew it, but at the same time I didn’t hear any judgment in his

  tone.

  What the fuck was wrong with my brain?

  “Not all of us are into rock star orgies, you pervert.” Breaking the tension, I settled back onto the

  couch with my text, effectively ending the conversation. Or so I thought.

  On his way out of the room, Dorian passed behind the couch. Laying his hand on my shoulder, he

  leaned in to speak directly into my ear. My body tensed; though his proximity to me wasn’t

  uncomfortable, I didn’t know what to do.

  “There’s a pervert in all of us, mate. Some just hide it better than others.” Then he was off to his

  room, and I was left alone to ponder that little gem.

  Chapter Eight

  ADELE

  When derby practice wrapped up that evening I was disappointed to not find Dorian in the stands,

  watching me with that wicked grin of his. I couldn’t deny how good the man made me feel—the way I

  felt normal with him, not like the girl whose spirit had been fractured into a million pieces.

  The way I felt like I could lean on him, like he would be strong enough for both of us.

  But there was someone watching, and as I skated off to the side to remove my gear, I wasn’t overly

  surprised to find that it was Mal. Dressed in tidy jeans and a thick blue sweater, those wire rimmed

  glasses of his outlining the incredible blue of his eyes, he looked good enough to eat.

  And two minutes earlier I’d been thinking about Dorian. I might have felt like a skank, except that

  for me, wanting two different men was serious progress.

  Could it be that there was hope for me after all? That I could again learn how to touch a man, to

  exorcise the nightmares and replace them with pleasure?

  I cocked an eyebrow at him, watched him make his way towards me as I pulled apart the Velcro

  that held my kneepads in place.

  “Touch Me At Your Peril?” Skirting behind me, he traced his fingers over where my derby name

  was embroidered onto the back of my T-shirt. Even through the thin cotton, the skin beneath his

  fingers warmed, the touch resonating through my torso, pulling my nipples in tight.

  “That’s right.” I cast a look back over my shoulder. My derby name had more significance than he

  would ever know, ‘cause I sure wasn’t going to tell him what had happened the night I’d gone looking

  for him. I knew Mal, and knew he would carry the guilt with him for the rest of his life, when it wasn’t

  his fault. “And I might add that you’re touching me now.”

  I caught a glimpse of his wide grin as I bent to unlace my skates.

  “You’re worth the risk.”

  The words made my heart do a funny little dance in my chest. When I straightened back up, he

  averted his eyes, and I narrowed my own at him.

  “Were you just looking at my butt?” I wasn’t offended—he’d seen my butt in way more

  compromising positions, and he’d seen it way more naked. But I wondered what he’d say, so I’d

  asked.

  The Mal of a few years ago would have blushed and stammered. Grown up, confident Mal just

  grinned and looked my front side up and down.

  “I most certainly was.” That leisurely perusal of my body woke nerves that I’d thought were long

  dead, and I couldn’t quite suppress the shiver of excitement when he leaned in and whispered in my

  ear.

  “Can I walk you home?”

  There was enough steel in Mal now, that I figured I would be getting an escort home whether I

  wanted it or not. It was sexy, that new, fiercely protective side.

  I realized that there was no one in my world who made me feel safer. And that security let my

  newly rediscovered sex drive coming roaring to the surface.

  “Sure.” I swallowed thickly when his fingers found the curve of my waist, urging me to walk

  ahead of him. The touch vibrated over my skin.

  I knew he hadn’t come here to just walk me home. He surely had found out that I’d seen Dorian

  earlier. He was here to stake an equal claim.

  I found I was inclined to let him.

  And I also decided that I wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. After everything I’d been through, I

  deserved some happiness, some fun. And if that fun came wrapped in two tall, tasty packages instead

  of one?

  They could hammer that one out themselves.

  Emboldened by my decision, I laced my fingers through Mal’s as we started to walk through the

  dark. I heard the sudden intake of his breath, felt the quick squeeze of his fingers.

  But this time, the small show of togetherness didn’t send him running, not like it had when we

  were younger. This time, he seemed content to just go wherever the night took us.

  We walked in silence, neither of us speaking until I guided us through the gate in a short chain link

  fence. The fence bordered a postage stamp sized square of grass, but that grass was tidy, and more

  importantly, it was mine.

  Taking ownership of the condo, of feeling that something was under my control, had gone a long

  way down the road to let me become a functioning human being once again.

  “This is your place?” Mal asked as I opened the front door. I heard the hint of surprise in his voice,

  and understood where it had come from—just the front entryway of the small condo that I’d steadily

  made my own since I’d inherited it spoke of a different woman that the one who’d lived in the cheap

  apartment decorated with chaos.

  I didn’t feel any anger at his surprise. I was a different woman now.

  He was a different man.

  “It is indeed.” Sliding out of my boots, I flicked on several light switches. Leaning against the wall

  by the front door, I watched as he explored the small main floor of my home.

  I’d painted the walls the color of heavy cream, giving in to my love of color in blankets and

  cushions that I’d stitched myself, the fabrics different textures, different shades of emerald green,

  crimson and teal blue.

  It still reflected me—but the me I was now was a f
ar more subdued version of the vivid girl I’d

  once been. Not worse—I refused to think that.

  Just different.

  “You have changed.” Mal turned and, sliding his hands into his pockets again, looked me right in

  the eye. There I saw regret, and I didn’t want that.

  I’d learned the hard way that wishing something had or hadn’t happened could swallow a person

  whole.

  Smiling at him, I gestured up the stairs.

  “We’ve both changed. Now come on, I’ll give you a tour of the rest.” My movements were casual

  as I started up the steps, but I’d made up my mind, and I knew what I wanted... if I could go through

  with it.

  This afternoon I’d started to think that maybe Dorian was a safer bet—there was no history there.

  And I had the feeling that he would take control, which would allow me to simply feel.

  But that shared history with Mal was what made me feel so safe. Made me feel like I could take

  this step, could open myself back up to something I never thought I’d be able to do again.

  Not to mention how much I wanted him. I watched from the doorway of the small master bedroom

  as Mal wandered, looking into the second bedroom, which mostly held things that didn’t really fit

  anywhere else, and the bathroom. When he approached me again, his expression serious and so sexy,

  with those glasses perched on his nose, my pulse began to pound double time.

  “Last night I told you that I wanted to get to know you again.” He stopped just far enough away

  from me to give me my space, but closer than anyone but a potential lover would stand. “Have you

  thought about that?”

  Sucking in my breath, I slowly, tentatively reached out and rested my hand over his chest. I felt his

  pulse, strong and steady, against my palm.

  “I’m not the same girl anymore.” I let my hand slide down, until it splayed over the iron flat

  expanse of his abdomen. I don’t think he realized that he moved in response, but his hand came up to

  cup my cheek, echoing the gesture Dorian had made earlier that day. “And it goes far deeper than what

  I wear, or the color of my hair.”

  He nodded to show me he was listening, his eyes intent on mine.

  I wanted so badly to tell him. I knew in that moment that I could tell him, and that he wouldn’t

  run.