Enamor (Hearts of Stone #3) (33 page)

I'm flooded with warmth as Giles pumps into me for the last time. I soak in his wild groan, his frantic breathing, and the way he all but collapses onto me, utterly spent.

We've gone completely still, but he's still inside of me. I don't want him to ever pull out.

He props up on his elbows and stares at me, eyes trailing over my hairline and lips before settling over my eyes. "You're so beautiful. I don't know how I kept my hands off of you for this long."

"You didn't," I remind him.

He grins. "I've thought about that night in the game room every day since. I've taken longer showers because of it, handling the painful hard-on you gave me every time I thought of it. But Julia? I might need extra showers every day to handle my thoughts of tonight." He buries his face into the side of my neck and inhales. "God, that felt so good. I've never come so hard."

His words please me and I'm relieved to hear him say he enjoyed it as much as I did. It's like I've been given a spoonful of ecstasy and he holds the rest of the bottle. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I tug his lower body even closer, his still lingering erection sliding farther in.
 

"I want more."
 

He laughs, pulling his head up to kiss me. "I do, too, little leopard. But I'm going to need a minute. Or twenty."

I try not to frown and instead busy myself by running my fingers through his hair. I've always known he was handsome, but something about us lying on each other naked after reaching a blissful state together, makes me notice it in different ways.
 

"We've crossed the line, all right," I say, softly.

He runs a hand down the side of my body, tracing my curves and rounding my breasts. "I never want to go back."
 

We have sex again, oblivious to the hoards of people in the house. Not caring if the music and chatter from outside the room are enough to mask the sounds of our lovemaking.
 

He's intuitive, reading my body and my moans to gauge where to touch me and how fast to go. I can tell he's being gentle with me, and I'm secretly glad because it's like I'm bursting at the seams from the way he fills me. Even still, his passion can't be contained and every stroke, every move is highly charged with need, ablaze with desire.
 

He radiates how badly he wants me in the smallest ways and takes me so passionately it's hard for me to catch my breath. When he makes me come again, it's just as vibrant and euphoric as the first time. The second orgasm leaves me with an even bigger appetite for more. And I realize this is only the beginning of us exploring each other's bodies. That I've only discovered the tip of the iceberg of the delirium we can experience together.

I wake up to our naked bodies tangled between the sheets. It's impossible to hold back the stupid grin that comes over my face when I look at his sleeping face and think about last night.

After he wakes up, he takes me in the shower for a long time. The water running cold as our bodies continue to wind and grind against each other. He holds me up in his arms and my back slides up and down the slick shower wall with his thrusts. I bite down on my lip to keep my moans low, even while he's driving me out of control. I've never felt so good in my life, I've never craved anyone, or anything, more than the way I crave him, even while he's buried deep in me.

His thrusts grow desperate when I say, between whimpers, that I'll be late for work. And soon, I'm forced to bury my face into his neck to muffle the long cry of pleasure as I'm plunged into my second orgasm of the morning. Or is it afternoon now?

When we are out of the shower, he insists on drying me, taking care to drag the towel over each inch of my body, kissing some places as he goes. I have to pry myself out of his arms long enough to get dressed and slip out of the room.
 

It's not until I shut his door behind me that I realize I've got to walk down the hall to my room in last night's clothes. I've done it in my pajamas every morning for what seems like forever. But somehow this morning is different. My body feels strange in even stranger ways. I can still feel him inside of me, which doesn't make sense since I'm also achingly empty and sore between my legs.

I never want to go back.

His words chime in my ear during my entire walk to work. A smile creeps over my lips even as I try to remain, to the outside world, perfectly unaffected.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Giles

"Y
OU
AND
J
ULIA
HAVE
been getting pretty close, lately," Ava says.

I can't read her expression. Her back is toward me as she prepares food on the kitchen counter. Her tone leaves little else to gauge from.
 

My answer is a noncommittal grunt, as I continue eating leftover Chinese food.

"I'm just surprised," she says. "When I saw you guys hanging out, watching a movie the other night, you two seemed pretty cozy."

"We've gotten close."
 

"Really?" She looks over her shoulder to where I sit at the table. "How close?"

"She's…the person I'm closest to in my life right now, if I'm honest."

Disbelief and a strange curiosity swirl around Ava's face.
 

"What?" I ask, pausing to swallow a mouthful of food. "Is that really so hard to believe?"

"I guess I can see it. I'm never really around. You two have a lot of alone time together…" She pauses. "I guess it was bound to happen. You two either hating each other so badly one or the other opted to move out, or…becoming friends."

 
Her tone is unassuming, but I know she's fishing for information. If there's something she wants to know, she should just go ahead and ask me straight on.
 

I pretend my response isn't needed, and simply eat my lunch. She sits beside me after a few minutes, bringing her plate along. The salad she's so carefully fixed is a heaping mound of leafy greens topped with strawberries, avocados, and nuts. I bet she envies my plate of beef and broccoli on egg noodles.

"So, since you and Julia are so close," Ava starts, doubt creeping into her tone, "I'm assuming she knows what next Friday is?"

My jaw freezes mid-chew and I have to remind myself to keep eating. Swallowing, I say, "No. She doesn't know."

Ava lets out a sigh. "Giles, why do you keep choosing to go through this alone?"

"I won't be alone," I say. "I'm meeting my mom. We're going together."

"You know what I mean. You need to talk to someone about it. So if you're going to feed me this bullshit about Julia being your closest friend, at least make your lie convincing and tell me she knows what next Friday really means."

Julia knows how my father died, and I mentioned a while ago that the anniversary's approaching, but I've never given her a date. The closer the date grows, the less I want to tell her. It's just not something I've wanted to acknowledge aloud.

I get up and head to the kitchen sink, Ava's words still pricking away at me like tiny needles. "Just mind your business for once, Ava."

"This is my business. You're my family, Giles, and I hate to see you doing this to yourself."

I turn around. "Really? How is what I'm doing any different from what you're doing?"

"What are you talking about?" She pushes her food away and crosses her arms over her chest. She knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"I refuse to talk about my dad. You refuse to talk about your mom. I threw myself into sex. You threw yourself into work. How does everything you're saying apply to me and not to you? And why the hell should I listen to you if you can't take your own advice? You're practically the only family I've got, Ava. And you won't let me help you."

She stares at me, mouth parting slowly, but no words coming out. Her eyes glisten under the threat of tears. The sight alone is enough to make me regret my tone.

"Shit," I say, running a hand over my forehead. "Don't cry. Please."

There's no kryptonite like a woman's tears.

Ava gets up, her plate forgotten on the table. She approaches me, lips turned down and nose redder by the second. I'm unsure of what she's about to do until her arms loop around my middle and she hugs me tightly. I'm surprised at first. We haven't hugged since we were kids. But my arms come up around her. A stitch in my chest loosens as I realize how true my words are.
 

Apart from my mother, Ava is the only family I have. We're both only-children, with no siblings to turn to. We've been left alone to deal with the mess left behind for us. And we're both grieving our parents in different ways, for different reasons.

"You're right," she says, voice hitching in a sob.

"Let me help you," I plead. "Let me help with the care fees, Ava. Please?"

She shakes her head then starts crying. I don't know what to do, so I just keep on hugging her, until her crying slows down. She takes a deep breath and says, "I'm so tired, Giles. But I just hate being a burden."

"What else is family for?" I tease, my arms dropping to my sides.

She laughs as she pulls away. Her face is red, but not just from crying. She crosses her arms in a self-conscious way that tells me she's embarrassed of her breakdown.

"Damn it," she says. "I've gone a long time without crying."

"And I didn't even have to run over your science project with my bike," I tell her, reminding her of a time, long ago, when our worries were small and our worlds much simpler.
 

"You've always been such an asshole." She laughs at the memory I've conjured, both hands coming up to wipe the moisture from her cheeks. Then she goes quiet for a second, her eyes softening before she says, "Talk to her, Giles. If you won't talk to me, talk to her. Okay? How is she supposed to know you need her to be there for you, unless you tell her?"

I nod, but look away. There's no question about it, I need Julia like I need air. But there's still a wall even she, in all her efforts, hasn't managed to crack. A wall I'm not sure can ever be breached.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Julia

L
EX
AND
I
SIT
in her office, enjoying a delicious meal of pasta from a nearby restaurant whose food we aren't sick and tired of looking at yet. The food at our work is really good, but when you watch people eating steaks and potatoes for hours and hours a day, you're okay not looking at another slab of beef for a while.