Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion

by Fawkes, Sara

  mom doesn’t even know how bad it was.”

  “He beat you.” I whispered, horrified. Mal didn’t have to say it. I knew.

  I felt a shudder pass through his body, felt the quiver in the arms that were wrapped around my

  waist as I spoke.

  “He did whatever he had to do to feel that he’d gotten his point across.” Though Mal’s tone was

  flat, I didn’t hear any bitterness there. “This summer, he decided that it was time for me to propose to

  my girlfriend. Her dad owned a company that my father wanted to do a big deal with, and our

  engagement would have sealed it.”

  My stomach rolled over at the idea of Mal being with someone else. I swallowed against the

  jealous fit that wanted to explode from my lips.

  I’d left. I didn’t get to pass judgment for anything he’d done since I had.

  But I sure didn’t like it.

  “Would it have been such a big deal? She was your girlfriend. You must have had... feelings for

  her.” I’d never met the girl, but I wanted to pull her hair out for having ever touched Mal.

  He chuckled against me, his lips ruffling the waves of my hair.

  “I never loved her, if that’s what you’re asking. I liked her, sure, but there was always something

  holding me back. I could never figure out what.”

  His hands stroked through my hair, and I wanted to purr, it felt so good. Dipping his head, he

  whispered his next words into my ear.

  “Could never figure out what, until I saw you again. I couldn’t love Emma, because I still loved

  you.”

  My pulse stuttered, and I stiffened in surprise. What was he saying?

  I wasn’t brave enough to ask. But I was brave enough to share something of my own with him. Not

  the story, but a story none the less.

  “My family was very much the same.” I hadn’t thought about them in a long time—I’d had other

  things on my mind. But two years ago I knew that I sure as hell could have used the support of a

  mother who gave a shit.

  “When I was little my mom was my hero. She’s the one who taught me how to roller skate.” A

  memory flew through my mind’s eye, me in overalls with pigtails in my hair, my mom behind me,

  holding me upright as I wobbled on my skates.

  I shook my head; that woman had died the day she’d met my stepfather.

  “I never knew my biological dad. My mom remarried, and my stepfather... he was controlling. The

  more he tried to reign me in, the wilder I got. Finally he decided to teach me a lesson. He invited

  several of his business associates over, and told me that I was going to do whatever they wanted, for as

  long as they wanted, so that I learned I wasn’t in charge.”

  “Christ, Adele.” Mal’s hands slid to my hips, digging into the flesh. “What did you do?”

  “I stabbed one in the leg with a letter opened and told the rest of them that if they touched me, I’d

  cut their balls off. I told my mom what had happened, and that she had to choose between him and me.

  She didn’t believe me, which was a choice in and of itself. So I left. Got a scholarship, came here.”

  The strokes Mal made on my back were meant to soothe, and I realized he was shocked at what I’d

  said. Knowing him, he wanted to fix it.

  I hadn’t told him so he would feel sorry for me. I’d told him to show he wasn’t alone. And as we

  lay together in the dark, I realized that if that was true, then I wasn’t alone anymore, either.

  The knowledge made my heart feel like he had it caught in his fist. Like he was never going to let

  it go.

  We lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms and in silence, until I felt my lids begin to grow heavy.

  Mal lifted me up to the head of the bed, and even in my sleepy state I appreciated the way his

  biceps rippled as he did. Settling my head on the pillow, he pulled my quilt up to my shoulders,

  covering me up, and I realized that I’d completely forgotten I was buck naked.

  “Good night, Adele.” I was already half asleep as he kissed me on the forehead, then left, assuring

  me he’d lock the door behind him.

  I trusted that he would.

  From across the room I heard an unfamiliar ringtone sound. Frowning, I cocked my head,

  listening, my mind sifting through sleep to see what the strange sound was.

  I still had Dorian’s cell phone. I could have given it to Mal to pass onto the other man at any point

  tonight, and I wondered why I hadn’t.

  As I feel asleep, a trickle of guilt worked its way inside of me. What was wrong with me?

  What had just happened with Mal had been intense, amazing. Every feeling I’d once had for him

  had come roaring back, and if anything, I wanted him more.

  But I wasn’t entirely sure that I’d really forgotten to pass along that cell phone, my ticket to seeing

  Dorian again.

  Chapter Nine

  DORIAN

  The cat followed me as I walked to Java the Hut for the Three Little Words show. The other guys had

  the van and the equipment, but it made no sense for them to pick me up when I lived less than a block

  away.

  So here I was, guitar case in one hand, the orange tabby weaving in and out of my legs with every

  step.

  “Weird little puss.” Stopping to stare down at the animal as I reached the front door, I gave it a

  stern scowl. “Do not follow me in here. Understand? Not hygienic.”

  The cat responded by wrapping its front legs around my ankle. I was no hard hearted bastard; the

  notion that some stray kitty had taken such a shine to me that he was hugging me was kind of cute.

  Then I noticed the cat’s hips moving. Thrusting, to be precise. I stared down dumbly for a second,

  shouting when I realized that the cat was not hugging me at all, but rather humping my shoe.

  “Jesus, cat!” I shook my leg and dislodged the small creature. “Buy me dinner first. Christ.”

  The cat sat back primly, a look on its face that said she—or maybe he, I had no idea—had no idea

  what all the fuss was about.

  I narrowed my eyes at the impertinent feline. “I’ve flogged people for less, you little bastard.”

  I was sure the cat winked at me. Topping from the bottom, that one. Man. Some of my fans could

  get a little overly amorous, especially after a few drinks, but a cat trying to get it on with my Converse

  sneaker was definitely a first.

  Shaking off the strangeness, I opened the front door of the coffeehouse, just enough to let me in.

  Condensation frosted the glass when the steam from inside hit the chilly wall of autumn air. I took a

  second to inhale the coffee scented air, to ground myself so that I’d be ready to perform.

  That’s when I saw Adele, standing at the end of the counter, dressed up in what I assumed was

  anticipation of the show.

  Black shorts were saved from being indecent by the sheer black tights she wore underneath. The

  combination let me have a lovely view of her long, curvy legs, and I drank in the sight. She’d topped

  the outfit with a long-sleeved shirt, again in black, that dipped into a vee neckline that showcased the

  swells of her rather delightful, creamy breasts.

  Her hair, that gold color kissed with strawberry, was down, the ends brushing over the mounds of

  those breasts in a way that made me imagine it sliding over my cock.

  She looked utterly fuckable, and my mind raced, picturing her with soft coils of hemp rope around

  her wrists, binding her to my bed. Of her shive
ring as she gave up control to me, trusting me with that

  ultimate power exchange that I’d been searching for for so long.

  But more than that, in the way that only she seemed able to do, seeing her made me want to go

  wrap her in my arms, to kiss the top of her head to say hello, and to just hold her for a few minutes.

  I’d never felt that with a female. Seriously. Never.

  It intrigued the hell out of me. It reminded me of the fairy tales, the stories of soul mates that I’d

  always believed in but never found.

  I wanted more than just sex. And I wanted it with her.

  She looked up as I approached, and I saw the guilt flash over her face. Something had happened

  with her and Mal, then.

  I wondered briefly if they had fucked, but mostly because I wondered if Mal had found out what

  caused those shadows that sometimes appeared in her eyes. I still wasn’t sure why, but the thought of

  Mal and Adele together...

  It didn’t make me jealous. Instead, I thought it was kinda hot.

  I approached the till rather than heading straight towards her, to give her a chance to pull herself

  together. I was supremely annoyed when the girl from the day before—what was her name? Marnie?

  Marti. Whatever she was called, she pushed past Adele to make sure she’d get to the till first.

  I wanted to tell her she was wasting her time. But Adele came up behind Marti, and all I could do

  was look at the woman I so badly wanted to be mine.

  “What can I get for you?” Marnie/ Marti was using what I imagined was her best come-to-the-

  bedroom voice, and my lips curled up when Adele rolled her eyes.

  Possessed by a wicked idea, I leaned forward, fixed Marti with my smile.

  “Who’s the best server here?” I knew she was going to say herself—girls like her couldn’t see

  outside the realm of themselves.

  “Oh, I am. Absolutely.” She didn’t disappoint, even thrusting her chest with its almost non-

  existent breasts in my direction. I fought against rolling my own eyes as I stood up again. She’d done

  just what I’d wanted her to.

  “So you’re capable of covering for Adele if she comes to help the band set up, then?” I smiled

  politely, and Marti looked like she’d swallowed a shard of glass. Adele didn’t look displeased, but she

  wasn’t jumping for joy either.

  “Will you?” I asked her. If her issues were what I thought they were, I wanted to make sure to give

  her a choice, always. At least until she trusted me enough to hand me the reins.

  She studied me, her eyes bright, then finally nodded. She turned to Marti, who was clearly holding

  back a snarl.

  “I’m off in fifteen anyway, Marti. I’ll finish my shift helping them set up.” Marti looked like she

  was about to argue, but Adele stared her down calmly. “You can handle it.”

  Adele turned to me, and the smile on her face told me she’d worked through her reservations,

  which I was pretty sure had to do with her feeling conflicted between me and Mal. I’d told her that

  seeing us both wasn’t a big issue unless we made it that way, so I cast her my cheekiest grin, trying to

  ease her mind.

  “Let’s go, sexy.” Trying to make her laugh, I reached across the counter and lifted her right off of

  her feet. I didn’t hide the fact that I groped her ass a bit as I slid her over the laminate countertop, then

  slid her down my body until she was again on her feet.

  If this was going to go anywhere between us, she would get used to me touching her—touching her

  all the time.

  I was gratified to see that my touch had turned her cheeks a fetching shade of pink. She saw my

  smirk and answered with one of her own.

  “You were so just being sneaky to cop a feel.”

  I shrugged as I laced my fingers through her own, then pulled her over to where the guys were

  setting up.

  “Never denied it.” If I were honest, I’d do just about anything to feel her against me. Submitting to

  me. “And I don’t have to be sneaky to touch you.” To demonstrate, I ran a finger over her cheekbone.

  She shivered in response, her eyes wide, and so I followed my gut instinct and let my finger trail down

  further, dipping into the cleft of her collarbone, then between her breasts.

  She didn’t say a word, but I felt the acceleration of her pulse beneath the tip of my finger. Her

  response sent blood pumping through me, hot and fast.

  I wanted this woman, and I wanted her bad.

  Taking her to the small raised stage, I wrapped my arm tightly around her to signal that she was

  mine. Not that I probably had to, because I’d never introduced a girl to the guys before.

  I watched her eyes go wide as she took in the group of us. I had to smother a grin.

  Being that the band was all blokes, I didn’t pay much attention to what they looked like, but I

  knew that we held a certain appeal to the female population. Adele didn’t seem any more immune to it

  than most.

  “Adele, this is Pax, our bass player.” Biggest bloke I’d ever met, muscle bound with brown hair

  and surfer boy eyes. “Levi on drums.” Almost as tall as Pax, but leaner, with spiky black hair and an

  eyebrow piercing. “And Wyatt, who plays keyboards and sometimes jangles the tambourine. For

  Christmas Santa’s going to bring him a xylophone.” Shorter than the other two, but solid, with one

  green eye and one grey, eyes that the girls on our website wrote poems about.

  “Guys, this is Adele. Be nice.”

  “Bite me, Dorian.” Wyatt looked Adele up and down, making no attempt to hide his interest.

  “Hmm, or maybe Adele will bite me. I think I’d prefer that.”

  “Is she going to be our groupie?” Levi wanted to know. “I vote yes.”

  “Hel-lo, strawberry tart!” Pax made no attempt to hide his ogling of Adele, and he even threw in a

  wolf whistle for good measure.

  Though I knew the guys were full of shit, and the teasing was directed more at me than at her, I

  tensed, wondering if I’d made a mistake by bringing her over here, by throwing her to the wolves.

  I felt my lips pull back in a snarl, a completely newfound reaction for me. Even the women who’d

  been willing to give me anything and everything I wanted had failed to pull such a primal sense of

  possession from deep within myself.

  “Uh-oh. What’s wrong with Dorian’s face?” Levi asked, looking at me like I was a specimen in a

  Petri dish.

  “Maybe he actually is going to bite me this time. Then go howl at the moon,” Wyatt added,

  watching me curiously.

  I knew they were just giving me a hard time because I’d never shown interest in one specific bird

  at all. But still I felt my temper rising. The guys were just being themselves, but they didn’t know that

  Adele had demons. They couldn’t have, but I found myself fighting off the violent urge to beat on

  each and every one of them, just on the off chance that they might have hurt her feelings or made her

  uncomfortable.

  Opening my mouth, I was about to tell them all to back off and, better yet, fuck off. I was

  surprised when Adele stepped out from the shadow of my arm, planting her hands on her hips.

  “I prefer scratching to biting, actually. And my claws are pretty fucking sharp.” She smiled, the

  expression as lethal as a knife.

  “Me-ow!” Levi mimed a kitty scratching, grinning at Adele. “I like her, Dorian. She’s feisty.”


  “You sure you want to keep him?” Wyatt blew her a kiss. “Lead singers are overrated. It’s all

  about the tambourine, I tell you.”

  Pride flooded through me as, rather than stiffening, Adele just grinned back and shook her head.

  She might have ghosts that haunted her, she might have things she hadn’t told me or Mal yet, but she

  was a fighter.

  It was sexy as hell. I might be the most fulfilled when a woman submitted to me, but that didn’t

  mean the girl of my dreams was a doormat. I grinned down at Adele, knowing that my eyes were full

  of heat, and draped my arm over her shoulders again, pulling her in tight.

  “What the fuck, Dorian? You’re seriously settling down? You sure you don’t want me to take her

  off your hands?” The opposite of me, Pax brought girls around the group all the time.

  All. The. Time.

  His voice was merely curious, despite his choice of words, but I didn’t like his implication. I bared

  my teeth at him, and he backed away and held his hands out, palms towards me.

  “Maybe I haven’t made this clear, mates. She’s mine.” Mine and Mal’s. Beside me I heard Adele’s

  little exhalation that showed her surprise, and it settled me, at least a bit. I stopped snarling, looking

  each bloke over in turn, making sure they got the point.

  My band mates looked at me liked I’d grown a second head, and I knew why. Never, in the almost

  ten years I’d known them, never once had I staked a claim on a female. Before, if a girl I was with

  decided she liked one of my mates better, well, there was always another willing pussy in line.

  But Adele was different. I wanted to keep her.

  Suddenly needing fresh air, I tugged Adele with me towards the back doors, where our van was

  backed in. From what I could see, the guys had gotten pretty much everything set up already, but I

  needed a bit of privacy with her.

  I needed to get my hands on her, even just a brush of my hand through her hair would do. But after

  Pax’s asshat comment, I found that I wanted to mark her as mine, to show her how much I wanted to

  be with her.

  I felt her looking at me sideways as I lifted her by the waist, seating her on the edge of the open

  back of the van, and though she didn’t speak, I knew exactly what she was thinking.

  Why was it okay for her to be with Mal, but another man couldn’t even look at her?