Tangled (34 page)

The
fact that he chose to share this with her, this secret, innermost part of him,
spoke more to her than words ever could.

“My
mother hated the water though,” he said, smiling wryly. “She never did earn her
sea legs. My grandfather was happy when she gave him grandsons to pass on his
trade to.”

“I’m
sure.” Her lips curled as she imagined a pint-sized Adonis struggling with the
sails under the careful tutelage of his grandfather.

“Do
you think she’d forgive me for hating her for so long?”

The
unexpectedness of the question startled her from thought. “Of course she would.
How could you have understood what she went through before now? You had to grow
up first.”

“No,
I had to experience it first,” he said wryly. “I’m becoming her.”
 
  

“No,
you’re not.” Tess touched his wrist. “She was diagnosed late in life. She was
too set in her ways to change. You have a chance, Adonis.”

“A
chance at what?” He ripped the aviators off. “Biding my time until I go bat
shit crazy and drive myself off a cliff or hang myself in a fucking psych
ward?”

“Don’t
trivialize your family’s issues,” she batted back, moderating her temper at his
naiveté.

“Don’t
fucking tell me how to feel,” he snapped. “Tell me Tess, what’s the point of
living a life like that? Waiting for the day you’re going to snap.”

“The
point is you’re alive, with people around who care about you. Learn from your
family’s mistakes and make a life for yourself. So deal with it. End the pity
party. Stop acting as if the world is out to get you.” Nostrils flaring, she
looked ready to pry off the helm and smash it over his head.

For
some reason it made something stir behind his breastbone.

His
mother would’ve loved her.

Grief
tore into him with the realization. He would never bring someone special home to
meet her. She wouldn’t be there when he graduated. Or when he married. Of if he
decided to have a kid.

She
was really gone.

He
had remained detached throughout the funeral. His brain hadn’t put two and two
together.

Not
when she laid there in the casket as if she were sleeping peaceful.

Not
when they closed the lid and carried her out.

Not
when the coffin sunk into the ground.

The
anguish must have tipped into his expression because Tess’s arms banded around
his waist. “It’ll be ok, Adonis.”

A
tremor worked through his body, but part of it had nothing to do with grief.
How had they come to this? How had the person who he insulted and reviled for
so long come to mean so much to him?

His
life had become a running comedy. Forgiving the woman who had pseudo-raised him
on a protean plateau of materfamilias. Falling for a woman that he’d persecuted
for years and who would later become his savior.

It
was a cruel twist of fate.

However
there was no pretending Tess hadn’t replaced the one other person in his life
whom he trusted without reservation. Unlike Cameron, he felt her heart in her
endeavors.

She
wanted him to get better. Not for her own selfish motivations or some
altruistic ideal, but because she genuinely cared about him. She made him feel
less alone, less isolated.

She got
him.

And
it shook him. Really shook him, that he could be this open with her.
This real, without pretense or sarcasm or defense.
She’d witnessed
his absolute worst and hadn’t batted an eyelash.

He
was scared of how well she knew him, of how much she knew about him.

Of
how rapidly his feelings for her were spinning beyond his control.

Feeling
as though he’d just gotten the wind knocked out of him, his hands moved of
their own accord and fisted her coat’s lapels. Her lips parted as he dragged
her close. Her clean scent, carried by a brisk headwind, wrapped around his
senses. His hands moved higher, grazing the skin of her neck, her warmth stinging
his cold fingertips. He tilted her head back.

Her
eyes had never seemed brighter, clearer. A wealth of emotions brimmed within
their depths. But there was one that made him catch his breath; one he feared
would change everything.

She
was right.

He
needed to stop running away from the truth.

He let his mouth speak for him. Adonis
swallowed her
shocked
gasp.
Her lips were butter soft and dissolved against
his tongue like cubed sugar. He should feel guilty for this, for robbing his
best friend blind. But if they were both being completely honest, Cameron never
had her in the first place.

The instant her mouth opened for him, new
life breathed into him. It inflated his lungs, pushing out ugly resin and
replacing it with something far sweeter. 

Her nails dug his arm as her taste melted
in his mouth. Adonis knew she could feel
this
,
knew it unhinged her as much as it did him. She trembled, her fear and
excitement amplifying his own. His hands slid upward into her hair. The strands
parted like water, warm and silken in their homecoming.

Hunger chased gentleness as their tongues
danced around one another before mingling.
Months of pretending and playing down the
sexual tension seemed to surge from him, fueling their appetites.

He
wanted to possess her. He wanted to consume and be consumed. Adonis pulled her closer.
Yet, it wasn’t enough. She’d done him in. He was a goner. The ache coiled so
tight within his chest there was hardly room for oxygen.

He broke the kiss. “Are you in love with
him?” There was no need to ask whom.

Her eyes rounded with panic. “O—of
course I love him.”

“That wasn’t the question. Are you in
love with him?” he repeated, unfazed.

“I’m not answering that,” she said,
determined to fight him tooth and nail.

“You don’t have to.” He already knew the
answer.

“Don’t you think that’s a little
presumptuous?”

And then some.
But he was beyond
caring; beyond pretending this thing between them didn’t exist. The urgency to
have her overrode any sense of self-preservation. “I want you, Tess,” he
growled into her mouth, his jackhammering heart threatening to hurtle through
bone and tissue to reach her. “All of you. Now. Tomorrow. Until I don’t give a
fuck.”

She didn’t respond immediately.

For a second, the fear of delusion fisted
his lungs. Then her fingers curled into the tail of his shirt. Sweet aching
relief exploded as her tongue sought his.

Chapter 20

Tess
didn’t remember stumbling below deck or crashing onto the stateroom’s lush mattress.

All
that mattered was the taste of him, the heavy weight of his body covering hers,
the smoky, spiced scent of him.

They
kissed frantically while trying to divest one another of clothing. His lips
burned a ragged path down her neck, pausing only to tear the blouse over her
head. She struggled to undo his buttons but each brush of his fingers against
her skin drove her to distraction.

“Having
trouble?” he laughed huskily.

Agilely
twisting her hips, Tess reversed their positions so she lay on top. “Not
anymore.” She impatiently ripped the remainder of his buttons.

A
wave of heat enveloped her. His body was a work of art. Lean and hard, she
couldn’t find an inch of fat if she tried. Tess mapped the defined ridges of
his flat abs. Her muscles twitched as her hand ventured lower, swirling the coarse
trail of dark hair that plunged into his pants.

Adonis
made a strangled noise and bolted upright, smashing his mouth to hers. Hot and
seeking, he ravaged. In a deft, one-handed maneuver, her bra unsnapped and melted
from her person.

She
so did not want to know how he’d come into possession of such a technique.

Electricity
hot-wired through her as he drew her nipple into his mouth, laving the stiff
bud before sucking hard. Sheathed within the tight confines of his pants, she
felt his swollen heat. Blind with need, she swiveled her hips, extracting pained
groan from him.

“Fuck
Tess.” He kissed her hard.
 

His
hands rode the small of her back, dipping into her slacks, and dexterously
sliding them down. She disentangled their limbs just long enough to kick them
off.

He
stopped her before she crawl back into his lap. “Sit.” Low and guttural, the
command struck a resonating chord within her.

Short
of breath, she followed his direction and perched on the edge of the bed.

Her
heart bobbed to her throat as he knelt down and spread her knees. As if sensing
her trepidation, he laid a trail of soothing kisses down her collarbone,
breasts, and belly before sliding her legs over his shoulders.

Tess
trembled as the warmth of his breath ghosted the moist folds of her cleft. She
choked on a moan as his tongue parted her and leisurely swept the length of her
seam. The duvet bunched beneath her white-knuckled grip as he worked her over
slowly, methodically.

Unlike
the last time, it wasn’t manic-driven exercise.

It
was a different kind of torture all the same.

Fingers
and tongue worked in rhythmic, oscillating concert, winding her hotter,
tighter, coaxing her to the summit of a climax before gently lowering her back
to earth. He kept her off balance, shifting technique and speed, replacing two
fingers with none, switching between broad, sweeping strokes and short, teasing
licks.

And
he was driving her to insanity.

Her
body pulsed for release. She rocked against his face, trying to ease the pain
of the thick knot roped low in her gut. “Please, Adonis. Please.”

He
ignored her and continued the torturous dance until she was writhing, sobbing,
begging for release. Every pressure point throbbed. Black cradled her vision. Heat
overloaded her senses.

Crystal
sharp, his gaze was the last thing she saw before his fingers curled into her.
 
 

She
almost shot off the bed as the arching crescendo catapulted her over the edge.
Her orgasm descended like a tsunami, crashing through her without regard for
anything.
 

Tess
didn’t know how long she floated in the aftershocks. When she finally came to,
Tess realized he’d repositioned in the center of the bed.

Adonis,
having lost his pants and boxers at some point, lay stretched on his side next
to her, drinking in the sight.

She
stayed the urge to cover up. “What?” she asked, her cheeks flushed.

“I
want to paint you.” His hand skimmed the swell of her hip. “Just like this.”

She
almost laughed. “I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable with strangers staring at
my naked body.”

Growling,
he pulled her against him. “It’d be for my eyes alone.”

“And
why would you want that?” she asked breathily, distracted by the hardness
prodding her thigh.

With
feline dexterity, Adonis stealthily situated himself over her. His driving heat
created a static electric field that called the fine hairs on her body to a
salute. “Why wouldn’t I? Especially when you come like that?” he said roughly,
his voice unraveling.

“What’s
stopping you now?”

His
eyes became a molten gold.

From
somewhere, a condom package materialized. She watched hungrily as he sheathed
himself. Even though she’d just came, need clawed her belly.

He
rubbed against her, coating himself with her slickness.

Tess
bit her lip to keep from crying out as he pushed into her, a sweet, aching
intrusion that kept going and going until finally he seated himself at the
hilt.

Flush
against him, her skin shivered against his. Tess could feel him everywhere.
The smattering of hair grazing her nipples.
His pelvic bone
riding against her clit.
The steady thump of his heart
beating in time with hers.
The solid weight of his
body.

This
didn’t feel like just sex. It felt like completeness.

It
unnerved her.

It
overwhelmed her.

As
if caught in the same chaotic maelstrom, his gaze held hers, the emotion sizzling
there trapping her breath. The nerves in her body came alive as he began a
slow, rhythmic grind.

A
hot wire of tension wound in her sex. Seeking release, she arched to meet his
thrusts.

He
was beautiful. The steeled sinew of his arms pillared either side of her head.
 

His
eyes were still on her, their vividness so sharp it hurt. Stripped of his
defenses, she glimpsed everything: his fears, his insecurities, his pain,
his
affection.

Heart
level with her throat, insubstantial words built and crumbled before she could
give them shape.

Lacing
their fingers over her head, Adonis covered her mouth, pouring himself into the
kiss.

Words
became irrelevant.

Sensation
stirred around her navel, momentum gathering until the tingling warmth spread
to her extremities.

Her
thighs hugged him tight, her inner muscles pulling him deeper as she came on a
wave of a languorous pleasure. It spilled through her, washing the world away.

Tess
must’ve dozed off because she awoke with her back to him, his wide palm on her
hip.

Even
before she was fully conscious, she knew he was waiting to see how she would
react. The heat of his gaze seared holes into the back of her head.

Tess
played with the hem of the duvet. What was she supposed to say? Was it as good
for you as it was for me?

She
always hated this part. Usually this would be the scene where she would make a
natural yet swift exit.
 

His
arm curled around her waist. Tess yelped as he tucked into his side. “You’re
thinking too much.”

She
didn’t deny it. Satiated, his features were lax, replete. Her fingers replaced
her eyes as she traced the stubborn angles of his face.

Adonis
closed his eyes, visibly weakening under her touch. When he reopened them, an
emotion she couldn’t place shimmered there.

He
caught her hand and pressed a kiss on the center of her palm.

She
couldn't help but smile shyly. "What was that for?"

"Why
does it have to be for anything?" he taunted, his voice a deep, resounding
baritone that rolled through her.

Feeling
more comfortable, Tess grinned. "Oh, so it wasn't a thank you for the best
sex of your life?"

Adonis
scoffed. " Let’s not get ahead of ourselves."

She
laughed and attempted to punch him. “Asshole.”

He
snagged her wrist and dragged her onto his chest. She settled into him like a
cat curling up for a light nap.

She
sketched figure eights along southern border of his ribcage. “What made you
transfer schools?” His muscles tensed beneath her cheek. “If you don’t want to
talk about it, that’s cool,” she backpedaled.

“No,” he said tersely, needing to
convince himself. “After we graduated, I thought about laying off the drugs.
Planned on it, actually. But once I arrived in Cali, I started hanging out with
the same groups of people, dealing with the same drama. It was like prep school
all over again and eventually I just went with the flow.” He inhaled. “Then
someone introduced me to smack.”

Her nails bit into his skin. Although not
intimately acquainted with the drug, she knew of its destruction. Her high
school in Brooklyn had only been a few blocks away from a heroin house. She’d
walk home, pretending not to see them slumped on stoops wearing unwashed clothes,
their teeth rotting and arms a smorgasbord of collapsed veins, oozing sores,
and track marks.

Her fingers automatically sought the
crook of his arm. His skin was unbroken, clean.

“I only shot up there a couple of times,”
he admitted, unable to meet her gaze.

“Adonis, that’s not something you should
be playing around with.”

“You think I don’t know that,” he snorted,
an edge of discomfort underlying his words. “I would only use when shit got too
heavy. I knew it was stupid to get hooked on that shit, so I told myself every
once in a while. This chick I got involved with tried to help. She knew
something was off with me. So I stopped with the drugs for a while.”

“She was that special to you?” Tess asked
delicately, trying hard to ignore jealousy’s knife sinking between her shoulder
blades.

His mouth crooked. “I thought she was.”
The smile faded as his eyes glassed over with memories. “I stopped everything
for her, cigs, pot, cut down on drinking. But you know I’m a moody fuck,” he
said roughly. “It took a month or two before she realized I was too much for
her. We fought every day, but she wasn’t like you. She’d break down and cry and
make me feel even more like shit. She suggested that I see a shrink. I told her
to get lost.” His fingers drummed a restless cadence against her skin. “And she
did. Didn’t even think twice.”

“It was probably for the best,” Tess hedged
softly. “Not everybody’s built to handle stuff like that.”

“Yeah. I would’ve dragged her under with me.”
His voice faded. “Once she left, I picked up right where I left off. Eventually
I drifted back to heroin.” Adonis swallowed reflexively. “It made me not care
about anything anymore. It was the ultimate release. Nothing mattered. Not her.
Not my classes. Not anything. That place became my reality.”

Sensing his growing agitation over the
next part of the story, she combed her fingers through his hair. Some of the
tension eased from his troubled expression.