Very Wicked Things (33 page)

His tossed his head back and groaned out. “Fuck me. I can’t help that.”

I kept going. “But, the thing is, you have no concept of where I come from. I can’t just snap my fingers and have money. I’ve watched a man kill another man. I’ve watched hookers crawl into cars with men. I’ve been fucking hungry and cold for nearly half of my life. And I don’t have rich parents.
I am the parent
. Don’t you see that? She’s all I got. She saved me a long time ago. Do you think I’d be here, right now, if it wasn’t for her? I wouldn’t. Most likely, I’d be dead.” I paused. “I love her. Like you love your dad or your sister or your mom. Wouldn’t you do anything to save them?”

He flinched, gazing at me with angry eyes. Why didn’t he get it?

Then he surprised me.

“If you’re leaving BA for good, then kiss me before you go,” he said.

“What? Still making your bargains?” I said.

“Why not?” He clenched his fists. “Do you want me to pay you for it?”

And that comment crushed me, but I powered on. “I forgave you, Cuba. Where’s your forgiveness for me?”

His eyes dropped mine as the words pinged around us, and that was his answer, but I needed to hear it, so that on nights when I had to do the
thing
, I could remember that it didn’t matter anyway.

“Cuba? Talk to me. Tell me the truth about how you feel. For once.”

At his continued silence, I changed gears. Laying it out. “Do you still love me?”

“Love is overrated,” he said, his face hard.

I spoke in a rush, my voice skipping over the words, trying to get it all out before I changed my mind. “That loanshark Sarah borrowed from? He’s my
father
. I grew up watching him beat my mother, who was a hooker—” my voice caught but I yanked it back, sucking in a sharp breath. I pivoted away from him and faced the opposite wall.

“Dovey—” he said, but I help up my hand. I had to get this out.

“He wanted to punish me the same way he does everyone else. He promised me he’d make us pay. He threatened Sarah and Heather-Lynn and me with death—or worse. They are all I have, and I have to protect them. And he was following me around, watching me. How was I to know he wouldn’t use you or Spider against me. So yeah, I had to do it. He’d wanted me to sell drugs, but I chose
me
instead.”

He came up behind me and turned me around, his hand on my shoulder. “Drugs?” His face was pale.

I nodded. “He wanted me to pay him back by setting up a connection at BA.”

“But you couldn’t?”

I shook my head.

“You lied to me,” he muttered. “Even from the very beginning that night when the Mercedes was at your house. Why couldn’t you just trust me to help you?” he said roughly.

I shook my head. “Because you lied to me and broke my heart. Why should I trust you?”

His jaw line tightened at my words, perhaps remembering the past. But then his eyes blazed with what I interpreted as heat.

I backed away from him.

“Come here and kiss me,” he demanded, his eyes heavy. “I want to wipe that bastard’s mouth off of you.”

“No,” I said, but I wanted to. I wanted to clutch him to me and grind our mouths together until we both bled.

Since I wouldn’t go to him, he came to me, our feet automatically aligning, our chests touching. I inhaled him, my body throbbing with need.

“This means nothing,” I lied, looking up at him.

“Nothing,” he rasped, his full lips finally settling on mine.

He groaned at the first taste of me, and I grasped his shoulders and held on, giving back as good as he gave. He kissed me hard, like I needed, his mouth vicious, his tongue an explosive invader. And just like all our kisses, it wrecked me with too much heat, too much need, too much everything. It broke me up in tiny pieces and then stitched me back together again. I’d take whatever I could get, and if this furtive moment was all he had for me? So be it.

He pulled my shirt up and off, his fingers going for the clasp on my bra. It opened and he hissed, his lips finding my nipples, his hands holding them for his attention as he sucked them painfully. I jerked at his touch. So fast. So wrong.
Yet right
.

And after that, it got hazy.
Hurry, hurry, rush, rush
. We became a frenzy of skin on skin, touch on touch. We tore into each other, driven by forces we’d both denied for a year. I unsnapped his jeans and took him in my hand, and he lost it.

“Dovey,” he called out, making me hot, making me insane.

Our clothes flew off, and he worshipped me, his fingers driving me higher and higher. Like a madman, he inhaled me, traversing every single inch, memorizing my body with his hands, his tongue. I egged him on with breathy words and promises I couldn’t keep. He didn’t care. He just wanted me.

I’d like to think it was love that made him crazy for me, but it was darker. Still my hands sought him out, memorizing his bumps and ridges and muscles.

He spread our clothing out on the ground, his eyes glowing like embers, his face flushed, his eyes full of the same need I felt in myself. He pulled a condom from his jeans, put it on, and positioned me beneath him. He entered me there, his hands braced on the ground, and I gave in to it all, arching and crying out as he hitched my legs up around his hips, moving me the way he wanted.

And even though this was about punishing each other, the loft disappeared as I closed my eyes and pictured the moon and stars above us. I imagined we were at his lake house, and it was my first time. I thought of how things might have turned out differently if we’d waited to have sex. If I hadn’t been so insecure; if he’d gone home that night when she called.

Would we have made it?

“Stay with me,” he muttered, his fingers grasping my face.

“I’m always here,” I panted. “I never left.”

He grunted and took what he wanted, sliding in me, doing things I’d dreamed about, only with him. His fingers plucked my nipples to the rhythm of his thrusts, sending me over the edge. My pulse hammered and my need rose until I came hard around him, my cries echoing up into the ceiling, my sweat-slicked body pulsating.

I went limp. And then something changed in him, and he slowed, his movements more drawn out. He took my chin in his hand and kissed me gently, lingering, until I wanted to cry out with the whirlwind of emotion it brought to the surface. The past came rushing back again, making me reel.

He’d never forgive himself for his sins, and now he’d never forgive me for mine.

We’d never be together. Not now. Not ever.

I had nothing to lose.

“I love you,” I gasped out, holding his face with my hands. “I never stopped.”

He paused, his eyes wider than I’d ever seen them. I brushed back his hair to see his eyes. He touched my lips, running his fingers across my top lip and then my bottom. I dipped my tongue out and curled it around him, making him groan.

“Dovey,” he muttered out hoarsely. “You—”

I stopped him with my hand, fearing his words. I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Don’t stop,” I whispered. “Finish.”

He searched my face, but then gave in, his hips taking me, pushing me to the outer limits. “Behind you,” he muttered after a while, placing me on my knees like he wanted. He entered me forcefully, his grunts making me hotter.

Yes
,
yes
,
yes
, I said, telling him I’d love him until I took my last breath, telling him I was sorry, that I wished I could go back and make us right.

Why did it matter to tell the truth? I had no pride left.

After a while, he cried out and went over the edge.

When it was over, he bowed his head over me, while I eased to the side, taking gulps of air. Minutes passed, making my heart break as neither of us spoke, just our eyes staring at the other. Mine were bright from unshed tears. His were empty. No hate, no love, nothing.

A huge gulf divided us, vaster than the ocean, bigger than the universe. We’d never be able to cross it. Even with sex.

I picked up my clothing and brushed it off, wanting to drag it out, wanting him to say something, but he didn’t. Because he’d worked me out of his system. I dressed, but he didn’t move, not even a twitch, just his eyes following me.

This had been his goodbye.

THE AWFUL DAY didn’t stop. I walked to my car and Spider was leaning against it, straightening as he saw me, his blonde hair glinting in the sun.

I stopped in front of him. “Your eyes look like road maps.”

He pulled out a pair of Ray Bans and slid them on. “Problem solved,” he said.

“I’m not coming back,” I stated baldly.

He ignored me in favor of a cigarette from his leather jacket. He lit it, his hands cupping the flame from the wind. Taking a hit, he tossed his head back on the exhale. Blowing smoke rings. Show off.

I tapped my foot, waiting for his hateful words. They were coming. I knew it.

Finally, he leveled his gaze at me, seeming oddly subdued. “I never knew you were flat-out crazy. Selling yourself.” He shook his head.

“Then maybe you don’t know me,” I said. “You ditched me. I had no one to turn to.”

He stared down at his hands and tucked them in his pocket, sighing heavily. “I don’t know what the bloody hell I was thinking. I’m a right bastard for kicking you out of my apartment and not following up. I’m too impulsive and I just reacted. My brain is all kinds of screwed up when it comes to you. And what’s nuts, is I didn’t even know how shitty I was being ‘cause all I could think about was myself.”

“There are things about my past that I didn’t want to share. I didn’t want you involved. Still don’t. You have a past you never talk about, too,” I reminded him.

He mulled it over, thumping his cigarette to the ground. “I get it. You got secrets and they’re ugly. Just tell me when you’re ready, then. I’ll be here.”

We stared at each other in silence.

And then he changed gears, his face twisting. “He’s it for you, isn’t he? There’ll never be an us.”

I cleared my throat. “I do love you. And it’s hard to explain even to myself, but it’s more than friendship. But when I see Cuba, if there’s such a thing as a soulmate…he’s mine. It hurts to breathe without him.”

Silence and then, “
God, I want someone to love me like that
—” his voice broke as he covered his face with his hands.

And that was enough to send me straight to his arms, letting it all go. I hugged him, wrapping my arms around his waist, laying my head against his chest.

I didn’t know if this was goodbye for us or not.

“Winning isn’t everything, but losing her was.”

–
Cuba

I WATCHED HER leave the loft.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t tell her not to go because my voice was kaput, my throat clogged with emotion.

I was terrified I’d never see her again.

I was terrified I would.

She had power to hurt me.

She
had
hurt me by selling herself.

And, I was still angry.

A part of me was glad she’d left, so I could figure this out, wade through the wacked shit she’d told me about her father. Everything I’d ever thought about her, I’d have to realign and reconfigure.