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“But honey, you need to listen to me. You need to be realistic. This is a fling. You get that in your head now, or you get it in your head three months from now when his attention strays somewhere else.” I scoff. “You don’t know that.” “I do know that,”
“It doesn’t matter what he tells you, honey. Doesn’t matter what he buys you. Men are attracted to shiny, new toys. In a few months, you won’t be shiny or new anymore, so he’ll start looking for the next. It’s better you prepare yourself now when –” “Stop.” I tear my face out of her grip. “The last person I need giving me advice about men is you.” She chuckles. “Oh, is that right?”
“A free-loader? An alcoholic? A strain on your finances? I mean, honestly, Mom, you look at Rick like he personally hung the stars in the sky, and I’ve never even seen him hang a fucking picture on the wall.” She clears her throat. “You know, I’d think you have more respect for him given the way he’s –”
“Right. Rick. Step dad of the year. Takes me fishing. Calls to chat about my day. Makes sure I get home for Christmas. Offers fatherly advice.”
“Oh, wait. He doesn’t do any of t...
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“It’s always about your happiness!” I shout and then pause, realizing how loud I am. Quieter, I add, “And you’ve made it very clear I’m the reason you’re not. You blame me for not going to college. For being stuck in Mobile. For not finding some nice, white-collar guy that’ll put a ring on your finger.”
Ian steps into the light and I notice, for the first time, that hair-raising, cold fury has engulfed his green eyes. And he’s clutching a pocket knife in his left hand.
But I’ve worked too hard to watch my future go up in flames now. And then I swing. The adjustable wrench collides with Ian’s skull. Surprise flashes through his eyes, and then he crumples to the ground.
“Are you hurt?”
“Are you bleeding anywhere?” His hands run down my hair, the back of my neck, and even my t-shirt, no doubt looking for a sticky coating of blood. “Any pain?”
“Not until I’m positive you’re actually fine. You might not even know it. Your body could be in shock, you could be –”
“He certainly has, at the very least, a moderate brain injury,” Adrian says.
“He pulled a knife on you?” The lethal edge to his voice sends a chill racing down my spine,
“He had the video, and he could’ve done anything with it and –” “What video?”
“So, this was going to be his leverage.” I nod. He presses a couple of buttons and then discards the phone at Ian’s feet. “And now his leverage is gone.”
“We could call an ambulance. Say we found him here,” I say. “His proof’s gone, and I doubt he’s going to try this again.”
“You intend to leave him alive?” And now I’m the one stiffening in his embrace. “You don’t?” I gape.
Why is this funny
“Of course not. You leave him alive, and you’re leaving a loose end.”
“He cornered you in a garage and held you at knife-point,” Adrian says flatly. “I’d kill him for that alone.”
Ahhhhgh i love him
“You’ve got a lot of moral hang-ups for someone who could’ve called the cops but, instead, called me.”
“Keep your filthy eyes off her,” Adrian snaps. “You don’t get to look at her.”
“Well, you could’ve locked the door.” “Would it have kept you out?” “Unlikely.”
“You gave him all that money. Almost a million dollars. You wrote him a check like it was…like it was nothing.” “Because it was nothing.” “It was almost a million dollars.” Another shrug. “When you drop a penny in a wishing well, do you miss it?”
HTF HOW MUCH MONEY DOES THIS MAN HAVE
“And yet, I am terrified that if I let you see every dark, twisted part of me, you’ll want to flee.”
“Maybe after this morning, you already do.”
“I told you I wasn’t afraid of ugliness then. Do you think my answer’s changed?” I glance down. “Well, I wouldn’t blame you if it has.”
“In fact…” His voice drops to a melodic murmur that slips beneath my skin. “I quite like your darkness.” My breath hitches as his thumb grazes my upper lip. “You talk about it like a weakness or some sort of flaw,”
“But your darkness makes you strong. It brought you to Lionswood. And to me.”
“Do you think we’d be as drawn to each other as we are if there wasn’t something broken inside you, sweetheart? You don’t hide as well as you think you do. I haven’t always known what’s broken, but I’ve know...
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“I’m attracted to it. I’m a moth to your flame. This morning, I tasted it.” His gaze flickers down to my mouth. “And now, I want it...
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The moment I try to use my tongue, he strikes, using my parted lips to shamelessly pry my mouth open and explore every inch. He’s ruthless about it, leaving no crevice untouched, and by the time he’s done, I realize I’m the pliant one now.
“Is this going to be our thing?” I ask. “The marble countertops in bathrooms?” He stares at me, pupils blown wide with desire. “It could…though there’s a perfectly good bed just a few feet away. I suggest we use that instead.”
“I could tear out your throat even.”
“No.” There’s one more kiss to my tender flesh, this one light as a feather. “I won’t.” He draws back, eye-to-eye with me. “I would never.”
“Not even if I tried to tear out yours?”
“My life’s already yours, sweetheart,” he vows. “Just as yours is mine.”
“I want to draw you,” are the first words out of my mouth, which probably isn’t great dirty talk, but I can’t help myself. He’s beautiful. Too beautiful.
“It’s alright if you don’t like them,” I say quickly. “This is new to you, so if…”
“I think you may be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,”
And then he starts touching me. He’s careful at first, kneading the flesh almost experimentally, but when his thumb grazes my nipple, it sends an unexpectedly pleasant sensation rippling through me – and I gasp. He pauses. He smiles.
He rolls my nipples between his nimble fingers, chuckling when the movement elicits another soft moan. “You make the sweetest
little sounds, sweetheart.” His voice pitches low, almost gravely. “Now I want to see what others you can make.” I’m not prepared for him to use his mouth again. He trails a line of lingering kisses down my throat, past my sternum, and right – Oh. That feels good.
He plants more open-mouthed kisses down the dip of my sternum and across both hips and then shifts, laying flat on his stomach and parting my legs. His hands grip my hips.
“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about since the night of the dance?”
“What’s that?” “Your taste.”
“I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”
“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about finding some empty classroom, flipping up your skirt, and having my fill of you? Or even here, in this room, as you sket...
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“You’re not allowed to hide from me ever again.”
“Do you understand?” His nails dig into my thighs. Another warning. “Yes,” I rasp. “Yes, I understand.” He answers, not with his mouth, but his tongue.
“You taste even better than I remember,” he mutters. “Fucking delectable, sweetheart.”
