by Penelope Sky
I rolled my eyes as my back was turned to her. “Help with what?”
She grabbed the back of my arm for balance and then started laughing for no apparent reason.
I shrugged her off and walked to a chair so I could sit and slip off my dress shoes.
“Can you hook us up with more wine?” She followed me to the chair. “Patricia says she’s out, but I don’t buy that shit.”
“Whoa…very ladylike.”
She grabbed one of my shoes and threw it at me.
I let it bounce off my arm. “I’m sure she cut you off on purpose.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ve got something stashed in here—”
“No.”
She started to whine. “Come on, big brother. Please, please, pretty please…”
I walked to my liquor cabinet.
“Yes!”
I pulled out a bottle of water that was disguised as a bottle of vodka. “Here.” I came back and handed it to her.
“Ooh…got any caviar?”
She really was drunk if she actually thought straight vodka sounded good after all that wine and cheese. All I did was give her a cold stare.
She rolled her eyes. “Party pooper.” She started to walk back, barefoot and somewhat stumbling. “Want to join us?”
“Not even a little.”
“Oh, come on.” She got the door open and turned back around. “Anna is a super-cool chick. She’s sooo hot too.”
“I’m aware.”
“Oh my god, you love her!” She walked out the door and shut it behind her, her loud voice audible behind her. “Anna, my brother wants to sex you up.” The other door slammed behind her, and then their laughter was concealed in Annabella’s bedroom.
I dragged my hand down my face, relieved that interaction hadn’t lasted any longer than necessary. I’d just walked in the door, hadn’t showered, and hadn’t even had a goddamn drink. But I suspected Catalina wouldn’t bother me again because she was fighting the clock after all that booze. She would collapse on the bed within the hour.
Problem solved.
I faced the mirror as I adjusted my tie. I was in a gray suit, ready to head to the bank and complete another day’s worth of bullshit. It was another sunny day, another warm kiss of spring.
The door opened without a knock.
Catalina stepped inside in the same pink dress she’d worn the night before, makeup gone from her face and her hair messy from sleeping off her intoxication. She dragged her fingers down the side of her face, getting the sleep from her eyes as she groaned.
“Don’t expect me to feel bad for you.”
She yawned and then came farther into the room. “You have aspirin or something?”
“I have everything, Catalina.”
“Then give me the good shit.” She fell into a chair at my table, sitting directly in the sunlight.
I opened my nightstand and pulled out a few tablets and then poured her a mug of coffee. I put the pills and beverage in front of her. “Caffeine will help your headache.”
She swallowed the pills dry and then sipped her coffee.
I pulled on my shoes then sat in the chair across from her, feeling too guilty to leave her alone. I should pull on my jacket and head to work, but my DNA was programmed to care for this woman even when I didn’t want to. I stared at her in the sunlight, seeing the bits of dust floating in the air around her. The heat was warm on the fabric of my clothes, and it made her brown hair have a distinct red cast to it because she dyed her hair. She was a beautiful woman, inheriting our mother’s looks to where she looked like her sister rather than her daughter. “You’re gonna feel like shit the rest of the day. But drink lots of water, and you’ll be as good as new tomorrow.”
“Damien, this isn’t my first hangover.” She took a sip of her coffee then rubbed her left eye, like that was the area where her migraine was the most prominent. “I’ve probably had more of them than you.”
“Because I don’t get hangovers, no matter how much I drink.”
“Congratulations,” she said sarcastically. “Your body is seventy percent booze. Not seventy percent water.” She drank more of her coffee, the steam rising above her face and drifting to the ceiling.
“Seemed like you guys had fun.”
“Oh, we did. Just can’t totally remember how much fun we had…”
“How was the vodka I gave you?”
“Don’t remember that either.”
“Then it’s a good thing the bottle actually had water in it.”
She chuckled before she took another drink. “Geez, I was stupid drunk.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“When I woke up, Anna was still passed out. I think she drank more than I did.”
And I couldn’t even take advantage of her. “Sounds like you two have become good friends.”
“Definitely.” Her painted nails rested against the white mug, and she gently tapped the ceramic surface before she lifted her gaze to look at me. “So, what’s the story with you and her?”
“She didn’t tell you?” Isn’t that what women did? Shared every little detail?
“She told me she was recently divorced and she shouldn’t have married him in the first place. She’s staying with you now for protection. But she didn’t say much about you, specifically. I thought I would just ask you.”
“I don’t ask about your boyfriends.”
“So, she’s your girlfriend, then?” she asked, a victorious look on her face.
I’d walked right into that, hadn’t I? “She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t like that term.”
“Then what is she?”
I shrugged. “Not sure.”
“Why does she sleep in a different room?”
Catalina wasn’t going to let this go until she dragged everything out. I would ignore her interrogation, but if they were going to be friends, it was bound to come up anyway. “She just got divorced. She doesn’t want to rush into anything.”
“But you two are kinda together?”
I gave a nod.
“Ooh…my brother is in love.”
“I never said I was.”
“My manwhore brother is trying to get with a divorced woman. I don’t see why you would be patient for someone unless she was important to you. And if she’s important to you…then there must be something there.” She reached for the packets of sugar and added them to the black coffee, her eyebrows high in an obnoxious, know-it-all way.
“We were together before she got married.”
“Ooh…now that she’s available, you want her again.”
I’d wanted her long before she was available. “You’re nosy.”
“This is the first time my brother has ever been seen with a woman. It’s a big fucking deal. You’ve got a girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I repeated.
“Are you seeing anyone else?”
My response was a cold look.
“Then she’s your girlfriend,” she said simply. “You don’t want a put a label on it? Fine. But that’s what she is.” She added more sugar and stirred the mug. Her tanned skin had a distinct glow in the sunlight, becoming more bronzed right before my eyes. “She’s a really sweet girl, so you picked well.”
“You’re fine with the fact that she’s been divorced? Aren’t you supposed to be protective? Judgmental?”
Both of her eyebrows rose high. “Uh, no.” She placed her hand across her chest. “I’m the least judgmental person on the planet. You’re the judgmental one. I don’t care that she’s been married. The guy was a dick who cheated on her. It wasn’t her fault. And from what I’ve seen of her with my own eyes, she’s a lovely person. She’s kind, compassionate, funny…hot. What else are you looking for?”
I hadn’t expected my family to accept her so easily, not because they were cold, but because I’d never done this before. I’d never introduced a woman to my sister or my father. And if Catalina brought a man around, I’d probably be the prote
ctive and judgmental one. I projected my own behavior onto her. “Stop saying she’s hot.”
“I’ve said it once.”
“No, you said it last night too.”
“What?” she asked incredulously. “I can’t think someone of the same sex is hot?”
“Not when it’s my girlfriend—”
“Ha!” She slammed both palms onto the table. “Told you.”
I issued a quiet growl as I rolled my eyes.
Hades stepped into my office and set a stack of folders on the corner of my desk. He said a few things about clients and other projects as he slid his hands into his pockets. Then he addressed the real issue that was on his mind. “Haven’t heard from him?”
“Not yet.” I waited for Liam to pop out of a box like a demonic toy clown. “But I told Annabella that if it came down to his life or mine, it’s gonna be his.”
“And her response?”
“She accepted it.”
“That’s progress.” He lowered himself into the chair, wearing a dark blue suit with a matching tie. His muscular arms rested along the sides of the chair, and he placed one ankle on the opposite knee, stretching out like he was lounging on the beach. “Getting laid?”
I gave him a scowl. “Did you really just ask that?”
“What’s wrong with the question?”
“What if I asked about Sofia?”
“She’s my wife. It’s different. And I didn’t ask for details. Just asked if you’re getting laid.” He adjusted the sleeves of his collared shirt under his jacket, so the collar stuck out just a little bit. “And judging from that pissed expression on your face, the answer is no.”
It was a big fucking no. “I’m not gonna rush her.”
“Yeah, I know how that is. You just have to wait for her to make the first move.”
I didn’t want to wait long to be with the woman I loved. I fantasized about her when I was awake, and when that wasn’t enough, I dreamed about her. The chemistry we had was explosive compared to what she had with Liam, and in my eyes, she’d always been mine…even when she was married to him. He was just an obstacle standing in our way. Now that he wasn’t there, we could finally break free of our restraints and be what we wanted.
But he was still in the way.
It would take time, and I just had to wait.
Hades could read the frustration in my eyes. “It’ll be worth the wait, man. I promise.”
After my workout and dinner, I sat on the couch with the TV in the background. My mind drifted to a lot of other things, from the bank to the streets, to the woman down the hall from me. Sometimes the scotch was strong enough to dull my thoughts, to get my brain to sleep while I was still awake. With the glass in my hand, I stared at the TV, not really paying attention to what I was looking at.
Then the door opened—and Annabella stepped inside.
There wasn’t a drop of makeup on her face, and judging from her messy hair, she’d been nursing her hangover all day. She may have just woken up a few minutes ago. She was in a tiny pair of silk shorts and a t-shirt without a bra.
I stared at her in silence, finding her beautiful even at her worst.
She sauntered into the living room, running her fingers through her hair to pull it from her face. “Mind if I join you?”
“Never.”
Instead of moving to the other couch, she took the seat directly beside me. Her arm grazed mine. Her thigh touched mine. The ends of her strands subtly brushed across my skin before they slipped away.
I froze in place, not having touched her skin in so long.
She tucked her feet behind her ass and leaned into me, her arm hooking through mine so she could rest her head on my shoulder.
The touch was innocent, but it made the low-burning fire inside me leap to life with sky-high flames. The booze lost all effect on my system, and my heart started to beat faster. Her scent entered my nose, a mixture of roses and pure woman. My hands ached to grab her, to turn her face to me so I could kiss her with an embrace so strong that it bruised her mouth.
She sighed in comfort as she relaxed into me.
I stared down at her, feeling more alive in that moment than I had in forever.
“I feel terrible…” Her quiet voice escaped into the air, loud enough to be audible over the flames in the fireplace.
My arm pulled free of her grasp, and I wrapped it around her, pulling her close so she could rest her cheek against my chest. My hand slid into her hair, reuniting with my favorite feature she possessed. My fingers lightly touched her, pulling the strands away from her face but also massaging her scalp at the same time.
She sighed quietly, as if that was exactly what she needed.
Me.
She leaned farther into me and wrapped her arm around my waist.
Now, I watched her instead of the screen—and I paid attention to every subtle move, every breath she took, and I felt such a wave of peace, as if I could do this forever…until the sun set for the last time.
We sat together that way for thirty minutes. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the way I touched her, comfortable against my hard body even though I probably felt like a tree trunk. As long as she enjoyed it, I continued to touch her, to caress her like a precious doll.
She raised her head and looked at me, her eyes possessing a sleepy gaze. “I drank way too much last night…”
“I heard.”
“I haven’t drunk like that since…” Her eyes glazed over as she tried to think. “I can’t even remember.”
“Probably because you never have. My sister is a bad influence.”
“She likes to have fun. Doesn’t make her a bad influence.”
“I disagree.” My fingers never left her hair, continuing to glide through her softness. “Have you had dinner?”
She shook her head. “The last thing I want is food. I puked out all my intestines earlier today.”
“Want a drink?”
She turned to give me an incredulous look.
“It helps, I swear.” I smiled at her confusion because she somehow made that expression cute.
“Maybe it helps for you.”
“Just take a sip.” I grabbed my scotch off the table and handed it to her.
She hesitated before she took a small sip. Then she stuck out her tongue like she was disgusted. “Yuck. God, I’ll never drink again.”
“I hope that’s not true. Drinking is one of the best things in the world.” I’d been in a bad mood for weeks, but once I had her affection, my negativity slipped away. I felt better…a lot better.
She stuck out her tongue again. “I couldn’t disagree more.” She righted herself on the couch and pulled away so she could look at me better. Her knees still touched my thigh, and her scent still surrounded me.
My hand slid from her hair and rested on the back of the couch, but I was desperate to touch her once again, to feel the warmth of her neck, the pulse that trembled at my touch.
She stared at me for a while, her eyes filling with that silent intensity we shared. She felt the chemistry between us, the magnetic pull that wanted us to slam together with a noticeable bang. “I hope I didn’t make an idiot out of myself yesterday.”
“Only my sister did.”
She chuckled. “She’s a funny girl.”
“Funny to look at, maybe.”
She smiled slightly, like she knew I was teasing. “How are you?”
I miss you like crazy. “Fine. You?”
“Right now, I feel like shit. But otherwise…fine.”
My fingers couldn’t fight the urge, and they slid across the back of her neck, coming into contact with that heat. They touched the fall of her hair, slid up as they grazed across her beautiful brown hair.
She visibly melted at my touch, taking a deep breath at the contact. “I think I’m still a little drunk…because I want to kiss you.”
“No. That’s me, not the booze.” I wanted to pull her into me to kiss her, but I listened to Hades’s advi
ce to let her make the first move. “And you can kiss me whenever you want. I’m yours.” I wanted those lips more than anything, wanted to actually feel the woman I’d worked so hard to enjoy.
She scooted closer to me, her hand moving to my bare chest so she could feel my heartbeat. She pressed her palm lightly, as if she wanted to feel the transfer of heat from my body to hers. Her forehead moved closer to mine, but she didn’t kiss me. She just held me there, letting our bodies touch.
I wanted more, but I would settle for this. It was a piece of her. I would collect the rest of the pieces in time.
She came closer, her bottom nearly in my lap. Her hand slid across my cheek and into my hair, the way she used to touch me. Her eyes looked downward, and she stared at my chest as she held me. Moments passed, and neither one of us moved.
Our heartbeats slowed, and our breathing became so quiet neither one of us could hear it. The TV was ignored. The flames died in the hearth without another log to feed its hunger. The connection reminded me of what Hades had described with his wife, that there was an invisible connection stronger than anything else in this world. That was how I felt now, like nothing could ever diminish this feeling between us.
She pulled away, her eyes focused on where her palm rested against my chest. “Could I sleep with you?” She didn’t raise her gaze, as if she were afraid to ask the question, to give me the wrong impression of what she wanted. Her fingertips lightly pressed into my chest, her fingers cold in comparison to my naturally scorching skin.
I wanted her in any way I could have her, whether that meant I could touch her or not. “Always.” I grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. My half-full glass was abandoned on the table, and I knew the fire would finish dying out on its own. When we used to be together, she liked staring at the fire as she fell asleep, so I let it be.
We left the couch, and Annabella immediately headed to the bed, the side that used to be hers. She pulled the covers back then slipped inside, making herself at home even though it’d been over six months since the last time she’d been there.
I closed the curtains so the sunlight wouldn’t wake her in the morning. I was up at seven, so the sunlight didn’t make a difference to me. I poured her a glass of water and set it on the nightstand beside her.