I must look like a wild mess when I approach the old fellow at the ticket counter. I’ve run from the parking lot and it’s hot as balls out there.
“I need to get something to my friend,” I tell him as I catch my breath. “She’s on flight four twenty-eight to Atlanta. Can I see her? Just for a moment?”
“No, sir. I would suggest calling her if she has a cell phone.”
“She’s got it switched off. Can you page her?”
“I cannot. That flight is about to start boarding. I’m very sorry.”
But he’s not sorry. His aura is clearly annoyed. He’s already looking past me like he’s going to tell the next customer to come forward. I wave my hand. “Wait! I’ll buy a ticket.” I yank my wallet from my back pocket, and he jumps back like I’m pulling a gun when I whip out my credit card.
“Sir, they’re about to begin boarding,” he repeats. “You might not make it.”
“Well then, I suggest you run my card quickly. I’ll take my chances.”
He grits his teeth and types, swipes, and prints the boarding pass. I snatch it and take off. I’m so thankful we’re in Santa Barbara and not L.A. The security line isn’t too awful, though I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet the whole time, making the lot of people around me nervous.
When I’m through security I sprint, counting down the gates as I go. My vision spirals down the hall to Anna’s gate, but I can’t see her.
Come on, come on! I weave through the slow people. When I get a bit closer they announce the initial boarding call. As passengers begin to stand and move, I spot the top of her blond head and I let out an airy laugh.
“Anna!”
It takes a moment, and then her head whips around. Her eyes are red and swollen. My first instinct is to run to her, but she may not want to see me now. She might refuse me—push me away as I’ve so often done to her. But I have to know. I stop at the edge of her row, and it’s as if the people have made a path down the aisle, just for me, straight to Anna.
She seems to be in shock, sitting there at the other end, staring at me, and I seem to be stuck here at the edge of the aisle.
“What’s wrong?” she asks me with fear in her voice.
“I—” I peer around for whisperers. “Nothing.”
Her forehead scrunches. “How did you get through security?”
“I bought a ticket.” I hold it up. The people in the aisle ping their attention back and forth between us like it’s a rom-com tennis match.
“You . . . you’re going on this flight?” she asks.
Clearly this is out of character for me, as she’s quite confused. “No, but those buggers wouldn’t page you, and your phone is off.”
As it sinks into her mind that I’m here for her, she slowly stands and makes her way toward me. I’m so afraid she’ll tell me to leave. I have to get the words out before she boards.
“I . . . I just . . .” Oh, bloody hell, I’m really not good at this. I could talk dirty to her all night, but saying how I feel is altogether different—too exposing. Saying these words is the ultimate vulnerability. Anna must know this. It’s why she needs to hear the words from me so badly.
Bugger. Say something! I lower my voice.
“Anna . . .” Right. That’s a start. What next? Tell her when it all changed. “The night of the summit, when you were saved . . .” She is staring up at me, hanging on every word. “It was the only time in my life I’ve thanked God for anything.”
Her eyes flutter closed and I exhale. I know the words have hit home, because only Anna can understand how huge that was for me. When her eyes open again, we drink each other in. She takes my face in her sweet hands and doesn’t look away.
“I love you, Kai.”
Now it’s my turn to close my eyes as I savor those words. It’s the first time anyone’s said it to me and truly meant it.
I want to say it back, but I’m overwhelmed. That damn urge to cry has hit again, and I can’t allow it. I keep my eyes closed a moment longer and swallow away the burn. When I look at Anna again, I take her face in my hands and she grasps my wrists. I throw myself out there.
“Spend the night with me.”
Her eyes widen. “Kai . . . We shouldn’t.” But there’s no backbone in her words. She’s begging me to talk her into it—to say more of the words she’s hungry to hear. I want to give her what she wants, in every way.
“I’m tired of living like I’m not alive.” I take her shoulders. “I’m bloody sick to death of it. I want one night to be alive. With you.” I press my forehead to hers, and now I’m the one begging. “Please, Anna. One last night and we’ll go back to being safe again. I need this. I need you.”
I lift my head and look at her so she’ll know I mean it, but I see worry in her eyes. I don’t blame her for needing reassurance.
“I’ll be good. I won’t let anything happen.”
As we stand there with our eyes locked, the wait is excruciating. I need this so badly. I don’t know what I’ll do if she says no.
Anna’s hands move down my forearms, and her fingers twine tightly together with mine.
“Let’s go,” she says.
She bites her bottom lip nervously as a grin spreads across my face. We both let out exultant laughs, in disbelief that this is happening. I grab her bag and we simultaneously search around us. No whisperers in sight. I never let go of Anna’s hand.
For the first time in my life I think to myself, So, this is what it feels like to live.
For the first time in my life, I am alive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Let Me Kiss You
“Our night is lit by the city moon, and I see myself reflect on you.
I know what I was meant to do.”
—“Aviation High” by Semi Precious Weapons
The whole day has been a disastrous embarrassment. First we show up at my flat, where I’m berated by Michael for missing another practice, then I realize the bloody flat is in ruin from my party on Thursday and Anna wants to clean it herself. Pardon me, but I’m disgraced by the thought of either of us cleaning. Then she finds the lyrics to “Good Thing” in my handwriting. Fantastic. And to add a cherry on top, Anna finds remnants of cocaine on my coffee table and goes all daughter-of-Belial on me. I shouldn’t have found her so sexy in that moment, but when Anna gets possessed with any kind of desire it’s fucking hot.
I’d rubbed her finger where she touched the powder and said, “The way this made you feel? That is what you do to me.” It’s so rare when I can make her understand the madness I feel for her.
If she hadn’t fled the flat to clear her mind at that very moment, I would have had no choice but to do all the sordid things to her I’ve been dreaming of.
Now I’m standing in my room, staring at the neat piles of dirty clothes along my wall, all organized by color. I shake my head. I can’t believe I allowed her to talk me into this. Anna should not have to clean any of this.
I lift my chin as I get a whiff of something divine drifting down the hall. Slowly, I follow the scents to the kitchen doorway, where Anna stands with her hands on her hips, surveying pots and pans that are giving my stove a workout for the first time ever. She’s softly singing to herself, “I knew you were trouble when you walked in. . . .” I will forgive her for the Taylor Swift lyrics, because she looks so bloody adorable standing there cooking—creating something with her hands for my consumption. I don’t think Anna will understand how intimate I find it that she wants to feed me. As far as I’m concerned, it’s an act of foreplay.
It’s been roughly eighteen months since I kissed her. Sinfully too long. When I begin to think of my hands on her, my mouth tasting hers, my body goes completely rigid with intense need, and my sight begins to fog.
Take her.
Take her now.
Right here.
Who needs whisperers when you have a mind like mine that makes completely devious demands of your body? I’m rational enough to know I cannot obey the
se commands, but I want to so badly it hurts.
Anna reaches out to stir a simmering red sauce and she freezes. Very slowly, she turns and sees me. She sets down the spoon and takes a step back.
Smart girl.
I have to touch her, and she knows it. I fight every urge that’s giving me permission to be rough. With every step I take toward her, she takes a step back, until she’s cornered against the sink and I’m inches away, hovering over her, breathing in the air she exhales. I’m taking great care, because I know she can see the beast in my eyes. I know she’s both excited and frightened. I don’t trust my hands right now, so I grab the sink on either side of her waist. I will not let go.
And then I lower my head and I take her mouth with mine.
Sugar. Salt. Soft and tender. Unmistakably Anna.
Oh, God, yes. This is what I have been missing.
Anna must think it’s safe, because she suddenly goes wild. My vision turns white as I fight for control. She tastes and feels even better than I remember. Unlike me, she’s not holding back. Her hands are in my hair, nails on my scalp and neck. She’s feeling my shoulders and upper back. She’s trying to pull me closer, but I’ve locked myself in this position and I dare not move. I kiss her deeper, letting my mind be taken to that epic place of beauty. Then I ease up and my lips linger over hers, covering them with small and gentle kisses until I have to go deeper again.
When her pear-filled scent fills my senses, my body urges me again to take her.
Anna grips my forearms and pulls her lips from mine, looking up. “Are you okay?”
She has no clue just how okay I am. I want to show my gratitude in a very big way. I told her tonight wasn’t going to be about that, but apparently my body didn’t get the message.
I push myself away from her and rake my hands through my hair.
“I need another bloody shower.”
I’m proud of myself for the self-control I’ve shown, but the showers are getting old. My body knows when it’s being duped. The daily pain I deal with is so much more defined when Anna is near.
I run the towel over my head one last time and I’m about to drop it on the floor when I remember Anna is here and we’re trying to keep the place clean. So I hold up the towel and awkwardly fold it in half and hang it askew on the rack.
See? I can do this. I’ll even take out the last bag of rubbish without her asking.
I’m feeling good when I run into Anna in the hall at the stacked washer and dryer. That is, I was feeling good. Now I see the look on her face and the paper in her hand.
Shiiiiiiite . . . shite, shite, shite!
It’s the fucking note Anna Malone left me. I only remember one damn line from the whole thing—something about picking up where we left off. This is not good.
“I heard a rumor that you’re not working,” Anna says quietly. “Is that true?”
I wish I could say yes, completely.
“Mostly. I work if whisperers come around or if my father gives me a task, but even with Marissa’s nieces it’s not usually sex.”
She pauses and I want to tell her everything—about how hard I’ve tried and how good I’ve mostly been, but the proof is right there in her hands that I’ve done something, sex or not.
“Were there whisperers here when you had people over?” When she asks this, I know what she’s really asking. Did you hook up with her because you had to or because you wanted to? Emptiness fills me. I won’t lie to her, even though I’d rather gouge my eye out than admit this.
I shake my head. “No.” I wasn’t working.
She crumples the note and turns away from me, back to the washing machine, and I feel as if I’m falling. I know how she’s feeling. I know that sickening sense of betrayal, and now I’m feeling like a hypocritical prat for giving her such a hard time about a kiss with Kope when I’d done even worse. God, if Kopano had done to her what I’d done to the other Anna . . . I clench my jaw, then I get a grip. I have to fix this.
“Anna.” She ignores me and goes about stuffing laundry in. “Ann, please. Listen.”
How can I make this go away? She turns to face me and her eyes are wet. I shove my hands into my hair, wondering how I can salvage this night.
“It was after I’d spoken with Marna,” I try to explain. “I believed you and Kope were together, even though Marna said you weren’t. I was certain you’d fall in love with him.”
I hate admitting that my own insecurities led me to doing bastardly things, but I have to come clean with her. Anna closes her eyes, and her face is pained, as if she’s imagining the worst. I want to take those images from her.
“Did you sleep with her?” she asks.
“No.” Though I don’t expect her to be impressed, I need her to know. “It wasn’t nearly as hard to stop as it had been with you.”
She still doesn’t open her eyes.
“I’ve mucked it right up, haven’t I?” She looks at me now with sad eyes. “I’d been good for so long, Anna. You wouldn’t believe how good.” Eight months since I’d had to work that party in New York. Nothing besides that except snogs in bars if whisperers showed. I wonder if she’s able to understand how difficult it’s been, how much I’ve missed her. A set of tears run down her cheeks. I want to wipe them, but I don’t know if I’m allowed to touch her.
“When I saw you on Valentine’s Day I was going to tell you everything. . . .” I ramble on about how I’d found out about her and Kope. “I rang Marna, expecting another no, but she hesitated . . . and there was nothing worth being good for anymore.”
I need to shut up. I’m digging myself a hole. Inexplicably, Anna holds out her hand to me. I stare at her offering for a moment before I take her hand in mine.
She pulls me to her and says with conviction, “No more. No more running in the wrong direction.”
I exhale and feel the tension from my body release as she holds me tighter. It’s going to be all right. We’re going to work through this. I once again marvel at Anna’s ability to forgive, to love selflessly. I only wish I could erase all the pain I’ve caused her.
“No more,” I promise her. I start by gently kissing under one of her eyes, and then the other, and down her cheeks, soaking up the salty tears on my lips.
Her hands are strong as she reaches up to grip the sides of my face. “You run to me,” she demands. And then she kisses me hard.
Her forwardness ignites me. I back her into the washer and dryer. My knee parts her legs until it’s between her thighs. She is what I need. I know without a doubt I will never again run to another. “To you,” I say against her mouth. “I swear it.”
Our kiss turns frenzied and I fear I’ll never be able to get enough. I fear my need will always overtake me. It’s hard to control myself when she’s wild like this, but if I focus on Anna and her pleasure, instead of my own, perhaps that will sate me.
I think about the striptease she did at Blake’s and my mind goes berserk. Those thighs. If I can get her naked but keep my own clothes on . . . just for a moment.
My lips pull from hers and move to her ear. I’m strangely nervous. I don’t want to scare her away. I grip her tightly.
“Let me see you again,” I whisper.
“What?” she whispers back.
I don’t ease up on my tight hold of her, and I nibble the freckle atop her lip. I know I’m being too vague, but I’m afraid she’ll balk if I grunt, “Naked. Now,” as I really want to. So I choose my words carefully, knowing I’ll need to take this slowly, layer by layer.
“Let me undress you. Not all the way . . . just as you were today at Blake’s. Please. Let me see you again.”
Our cheeks are together, and after a moment I feel her nod. I don’t hesitate. I pull the tank top over her head, and my pulse races at the sight of her pink bra and all that gorgeous, creamy skin.
She reaches for my shirt, and I almost stop her, but the thought of my skin against hers changes my mind. I let her take my shirt off, but that’s it. When the cl
oth is over my head I smash myself against her, taking her mouth with mine and reveling in the feel of our chests, arms, and stomachs flush together. She is so soft, and when our skin touches, the temperature goes up.
I stop only to look at her, to make sure she’s ready for the next layer to come off. She says nothing, only breathes rapidly as I feel around the edges of her shorts and slowly remove them.
There are hips, thighs, and legs in my sight now, and I am dying to be naked with her. I close my eyes, and my head drops back. Keep your shorts on, Rowe. I’m going to focus on Anna. Her pleasure will be my pleasure.
“Let me kiss you,” I beg.
“Okay,” she whispers.
“No.” I look at her, needing to be clear. “I need to kiss your body.”
Her mouth opens but it takes a second for the word “Okay” to slip out again. I think she knows exactly what I mean, and if she doesn’t, she’s about to find out. I need to kiss her absolutely everywhere.
“Don’t let any more clothing come off,” I warn.
“Okay.” She’s breathy, and I have to make sure she understands—if we end up naked, I don’t think I’ll be strong enough to stop again.
“Promise me, Anna.”
“I promise.”
Now that I know she’ll be the strong one, I allow myself to let go. Her body is all mine, and I’m going to savor every single taste. She wriggles under my mouth as I slowly move along her shoulder and down over her collarbone. My hands encircle her waist and back, fingers splayed to hold her close. I examine her skin as I kiss it, finding each freckle along the way and making it mine. Her natural scent intoxicates me.
I make it to her breasts and run my thumbs under the edge of her bra, dipping my tongue as far under the material as I dare. When I reach back to undo the clasp she presses her back against the wall to smash my hand away, and I grin to myself. I will get to those later. . . .
Down I go over her ribcage until I’m on my knees, staring at a blue heart charm dangling from her belly button. Holy . . . A sizzle of heat bolts to my core.
“You are killing me.” I lick around her belly button and she shivers, moaning. Her hands grip my shoulders and then sink into my hair as my mouth moves farther south to the edge of her low knickers. I start at one hip and kiss along the edge to the other. The sound of her rapid breathing urges me on. I open my mouth and lightly sink my teeth into the skin at her hip, making her gasp, then my tongue circles over the spot. I know I’m a fiend, but I want to mark her all over.
Sweet Temptation Page 22