Inner Core: (Stark, #2) (5 page)

“At the time it made lots of sense,” I say, nostalgic.

“Salvation caught the last train out of town?” He turns to look my way with an arched brow. I shrug.

“Let’s leave psychoanalysis to some other time.” I implore him with my expression.

“I can do that.” His voice becomes lower and deeper now as he saunters slowly toward me, clear intent in his pointed hazel stare. “Something else you have in mind, Miss Grace?” In less than a heartbeat and without waiting for a reply, he closes the gap between us. He bends down slowly til he is planted between my legs as I recline on my childhood bed. My heart starts to pound.
It's been much too long
.

He inclines toward me, his hands pressed to the sides of my shoulders, propping him above me. He lightly presses his thigh into my middle, which starts to throb, heated.  His eyes level with mine, he pauses for a moment, watching me with palpable lust.

“If there’s something I wanted since the moment I saw you today…” His voice is hoarse.

“Same goes here.” My faint whisper echoes his tone, and I swallow hard. My eyes travel to his lips. He bends lower and presses a kiss full of longing to my eager mouth. I gasp with an instinctive want, the kiss scorches all the way to rest of my body. When he gradually descends to rest his full weight on me I flinch from the sudden sharp pain in my ribs.

“What is it?” he asks in alarm.

“It’s just this small bump I got from a surfing accident.” I suck in air, trying to soothe the pain. He looks at me with concern and shifts back to sit astride my thighs, at a careful distance, inches above me. Very gently he pushes up my shirt into a crumpled heap of fabric below my breast, and cautiously lifts
the gauze underneath. His face twists with pain as he sees the dark purple kaleidoscope that decorates my wound.

“It looks worse than it actually is.” I try to ease the distress he radiates. He shakes his head with closed eyes.

“Hales.” My name is more a gasp than a word. From above me, refraining from pressing my sore ribs, palms spread flat at my sides, he slowly lowers his chest until his mouth is inches from my pulsing lips. His lips brush mine softly, and an electrical current flickers from my lips to my core as the tip of his tongue traces the edge of my mouth.  His warm
tongue presses my lips, spurring them to open and allow it entry.

As my mouth opens his tongue doesn’t immediately reach in but in gentle strokes caresses the tip of mine. Our breaths blend; I compulsively swallow the air hard, all the way to my lungs. His teasing touch transfers a charged current to the tip of my tongue, driving me insane with the necessity to feel all of his tongue against mine; I slide mine inside his wet, warm mouth with a moan, uniting us fully in a kiss.

“I want you so badly,” I breathe, feeling heat radiate from my cheeks, my skin, my eager body.

“Me too baby,” he whispers into my lips. He turns slowly to lie on his back, shifting me ever so carefully to lie on top of him, as if I were too fragile to hold.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, his eyes warm and sincere.

I bend to kiss his handsome face, his eyes, his cheeks, nibble at his hard jaw line and finally, collide my mouth with his with all the longing that has accumulated in me for the last torturous fourteen days. Thinking about the fact that my mom and my discontented dad are just a floor below us, I turn on my ancient CD player for Madonna to soothe the room with “Dear Jessie” in a sugared melody.

“A lullaby for sex? That’s kinky, Hales,” Daniel chuckles.

I shush him and say, “I haven’t touched this thing in ages.”

“Whatever works for you, I’m game.” He says, pressing a delectable kiss to my lips, still smiling.

“And we need to keep it down, especially with my Dad not being your biggest fan.”

“He’s not? And here I thought we’d grab a beer after I’m done
projecting
his daughter…”

Our light chuckles die as soon as he slides his hand through my hair to hold the nape of my neck. He leaves tenderness aside, pulling me toward him. Our lower halves press together hard. And that ember that was steadily burning for him since the last time he touched me lights faster than I thought it possibly could, making my body simmer from the inside out.

“There’s something I need to tell you Hales, before we...” He pauses. I can’t even begin to read his tone with the desire clouding my mind. I just pull him closer with uncontrollable need.

“Hales…”

“Not now…later…” I plead and shamelessly rub against him. In less than a breath we are devouring one another.

“Shaving is caring, baby.” A low snort comes from the edge of the bed, a cluster of blond strands rise from between my legs and a wicked grin shines my way. Flustered, with my breath coming out erratically, I narrow my eyes at him and scold, “Seriously, now’s the time for joking?”

He chuckles again but the moment his expert mouth continues its skillful work of art on my spasming tissue all is forgotten. He takes his time to painstakingly, lazily, attend my need. My head drops to the pillow while my body independently lifts to press against him, in rhythm with his pace. When his name flies out of my mouth in a mumble he pulls me up to straddle him. His hand on my back encourages me to grind against him as he moves in me.

I look at his blazing eyes, his face in front of me, flushed with pleasure and concentration. Our mouths hover closely as we move in synch. His hands grip me at my waist and he moves me tightly against him to better feel our connection. I lean my cheek against the scruff of his jaw; the scent of him and sex intoxicates me. When moans start rising from my mouth he swallows them with his, pushing me closer, until I shatter against him—wildly shatter against him. Daniel burrows his mouth into my neck and strangles a groan against it with his last thrust. I could cry from the want and longing that were just released. I could cry from how much I want and need this man.

~~~

When we return downstairs it's clear that my mom has spoken to my dad and made sure he won’t keep up his grilling-Hayley's-boyfriend act. We join them for a light dinner in the kitchen before we leave for the airport. The conversation is only a tad less hostile, more like a cold war now.

Just before we leave Daniel turns to my dad as he shows us to the door. “Sir, I intend to take good care of her,” he says in a low, authoritative voice, his arm affirming his statement by firmly enfolding my waist. I snicker inwardly. D’s statement sounds like it's from an old movie. Next he'll tip his hat and nod. Add a thick drawl, and that's a wrap.

“I'm glad to hear that,” my father responds in that same masculine, stern tone. As he pats Daniel’s shoulder and thanks him again for getting the information about Steven my smile turns to a full-hearted grin. I hug him forcefully, whispering to his ear. “Thanks. I love you, Dad.”

Chapter 4: Is My Blessing Also My Enemy?

Once we are approximately above 10,000 feet, Daniel turns my way. He brushes my hair to the side and with a gentle hold on my face he tilts it closer to his, looking at me intently for a suspended moment, then chastely brushes his mouth on mine. Pulling back, though still close enough for his breath to mix with mine, he trails his stare over my face. I smile, sensing he has something on his mind that he's thinking about sharing with me.

“What is it?”

He beams his lopsided smile, still pensive. “I think you should move in with me when we get back home.”

Come again? We’re back to that already?
D
idn’t we just get back together a second ago?

A déjà vu of our last conversation about this issue comes to life in my mind. Just like the last time, my opinion is decided.
Too soon, too impulsive
. And, given our recent breakup, this time I don’t even have a shred of a doubt.

“We just got back together two minutes ago. I really don’t think it’s good timing.”

He heaves a sigh in distinct displeasure, scowling. “This breakup was a mistake that shouldn’t have happened. I thought we established that point by now.
Nothing
has really changed.” 

I study him closely. His mouth is twisted and I can see his restlessness all over his face.

“We can’t go from hell to heaven in a split second and pretend nothing happened. It doesn’t work that way.” I deepen my stare. “Let’s absorb the impact of hell first and go from there.”

His eyes bore back into mine; the determination in them overwhelms me.

I inwardly shake my head.

“
Nothing really changed, Hales. I want exactly what I wanted before.” His voice wears his not-to-be-argued-with, confident tone.

“How can I argue with you if you don’t even try to make sense?”

“Are we arguing? What about, for fuck’s sake?”

Really?
He bites his lower lip. My focus on his ripe mouth distracts the hell out of my resolve. I take a deep breath.

“We broke up, we had trust issues.”
That is to say
…you
had trust issues with
me
.
“We were apart for some time. At a certain point you didn’t even want to see me. Ring a bell? How can you be serious about this?” I’ve almost forgotten how “pleasant” it is to reason with him.

“Oh, I am more than serious, believe me. I'd even take it to the next level, but I don’t want you freaking out on me… it’s too early for you.”

“How can you be so sure?” My voice is a clear sign of my exhaustion and I'm this close to giving up trying to make a counter argument, or sense for that matter. He gazes at me with a look that I know portends a wicked resolve.

“I’m not. I'm still debating.”

My eyes rip open and I grimace involuntarily. For the space of a breath I am truly offended. He tips my chin up and presses a flirty kiss on my lips, then mouths, “kidding”, clearly elated.

“How can I be so sure?” He murmurs. He stares at me with gleaming hazel, on the verge of amused. “
You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep, because reality is finally better than your dreams."

First my jaw drops. Then I scan him with startled eyes. Finally I bite my lip which is stretched into a smile.

“Who are you, and what did you do with my Daniel?”

He snorts out a short laugh, and looks at me amusedly.

I heard that one before, I’m not sure where. I wouldn’t tag
him
as a Nicholas Sparks type fan
.

“Dr. Seuss,” he answers sternly to an unspoken question.

I can’t help but snicker. That’s much more fitting! “Seriously, baby,” he takes my hand and pecks my knuckles, all humor dissolved. “Even if I had you custom-made they wouldn’t reach this kind of compatibility. It’s like I did something really god damn fucking virtuous in a past life to be rewarded with you. So, hell yeah, I’m fucking sure.”

The mush my gut just turned into
.
I press a short but meaningful kiss on his lips. I rest my head on his shoulder, utterly content.

“My Daniel,” he mumbles. I tilt my head to look up at him. His stare descends to meet mine, and with a boyish smile he says, “Glad I'm
your
Daniel again.” I smile softly, emotionally.
I’m glad you are
. “You know what?” I return to the subject we just strayed from. “Let’s start with a key and a drawer, just like the last time, and go from there.”

His eyes squint as he gauges my proposal.

“For the time being,” he says with clear dissatisfaction, emphasizing his reluctance with a sigh.

“Oh my, thank you sir. You are just too kind to me.” I smirk at him and roll my eyes. He scowls playfully and a ghost of a smile tugs on his lips. We embrace as closely as we can and fall into comfortable silence, deep in our own thoughts.

When the
seat belt sign darkens
we share a glass of wine. I watch him fondly as he gazes out the window and think about how grateful I am to have him by my side, loving me again. But in equal measure to my almost unreasonable adoration my persistent insecurity rears its head. It unnerves me that I might be setting myself up for the greatest heartbreak, which I'm not sure I would ever be able to recuperate from. I’ve been there with him once too many times: never again. I know that my head should be leading me this time around, rather than my heart.

Daniel gifts me with a soft smile, brushes my cheek with the back of his hand. His eyes turn quizzical as they scan me. I try to dismiss his concern with a short blink and a shake of my head.

“Okay?” he probes with a shade of doubt. I nod.
Torn and unsure would be more accurate
.

I smile and kiss the corner of his mouth, and he gives me one last glance to asses my mood and turns to work on his laptop. I gape at the screen in the seat in front of me and listen to the playlist on Daniel’s iPod. There's a song that catches my attention, and I listen to it again.

“They're good,” I tell Daniel and point my finger at the group’s name on the display. He nods and leaves a kiss on my temple. One sentence keeps recycling in my head over and over, long after the song is done playing. “My blessing is also my enemy.” I stare at Daniel’s handsome profile and ask myself whether my own blessing is indeed also my enemy.

Chapter 5: Messages

I wake up in a vast, empty bed; it takes a whole lazy moment to realize where I am before the familiarity of Daniel’s bedroom registers. On the pillow next to me there’s a note in a frenetic scribble. I smile at how apt this chaotic handwriting is, and how it fits its owner to perfection.