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Tinged (The Electric Tunnel Book 3)

Page 11

by Rachel Blaufeld


  “You tell me when. I’m not going anywhere, you hear me? No rush.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Samara could come too. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  A small smile spread across Lynx’s face. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but close enough. I put that there, and I planned to do it more often.

  “I WAS beginning to think you lost my number.”

  That’s how Lila answered the phone when I called. She was the sweet one, so I knew I was in deep trouble. Natalie would have said, “Fuck you, Mike. Don’t call me for months, and now you call with a favor?” Not Lila. She just internalized her hurt at my not calling.

  “Nah, Lila. Just been a rough few months. I hated unloading on you. You’ve had enough bad shit hanging over you, and you finally got your sweet, second baby and all. You need to enjoy it. By the way, how’s the princess?”

  Standing in my barren apartment, I leaned my back against the glass, the Atlantic lapping away behind me. I’d begrudgingly dropped Lynx at her place after breakfast, watching until she disappeared inside the front doors of her building, and hoping she’d agree to see me again soon.

  “Mikey, I can enjoy my life and still be there for you. Would I even be where I am today without you? Don’t answer that, because the answer is no. And the princess, Francesca, is a screamer. Yikes, Carson may be smitten with her, but she’s got some lungs.”

  My head against the cool glass, I blew out a long breath and smiled. I couldn’t help but be happy for Lila and Carson. Two kids, a big home, and a happy life.

  “Personally, I’m barely holding it together. Staci and Sampson are keeping shit together at the club. The hotel’s happening, but Lynx isn’t. She’s stuck in a bad place, Lila. I need her out of it, done with that crap.”

  “She’s a woman.” Lila’s voice was gentle, soothing my anger. She’d been a rock, escaping a violent husband and religious oppression, reinventing herself as a stripper and escaping a violent kidnapping.

  “You got out of it, made peace time and again. I was there, watched you. Remember?”

  “We’re all different. We handle stress differently. I’d met Carson, and he showed me I could.”

  “So I’m not enough?” I paced the hardwood floor wearing nothing but jogging pants hanging low on my waist, naked from the waist up—the way Lynx always loved me.

  “You’re more than enough, but you need to show her, not tell her. Showing doesn’t mean sending flowers and singing telegrams. It means being patient and steady, by her side.”

  “I think that’s what I did today . . . I don’t fucking know. I just want her back, all of her, one hundred percent this time. In my house, in my bed, all mine.”

  Lila laughed into the phone. “Don’t get so alpha, Mike. Is she seeing someone again? Talking this out? Ash said she ditched the last person.”

  “That’s why I called. She’s not, and I need her to. Carson’s getting me a name, and I was kind of hoping you and Nat would help me convince her.”

  “You’re a sneaky sucker. Weaseling your way into my love life back then, and now this. But I’ll help. What do you need?”

  That was the problem.

  I had no fucking clue.

  TWO DAYS had passed, and I was sitting in my office with my feet thrown up on the desk, wondering how long I needed to wait to call Lynx when there was a knock on my door.

  “Come in.” I was sure it was either Staci or Jovi. They’d been out front setting up for the night.

  When the door didn’t budge, I finally stood the hell up and pulled it open, completely unprepared for the sight in front of me.

  “Hey,” Lynx said, standing there in a sheer white T-shirt, jeans, red Chucks, and her hair down and smooth.

  Swallowing equal parts lust and surprise, I moved my gaze up from the red triangle bikini top showing through her shirt, and met her eyes. “Hey. You okay?”

  We stood there like two strangers, unsure which way to move to let the other one pass. I hated it. I wanted to be close, touching, cemented together.

  She nodded. “I was out, and thought I would like to see Chantilly. She’s been on my mind.”

  “Come in.” I finally got my head together and beckoned her through the door. “Want something to drink? Eat?”

  She shook her head. “No, thanks. Sammy and I were out walking, and I saw a woman go into the Fritz. Dressed to the nines in the middle of the afternoon, big tote on her shoulder, and I knew the score. Made me think of Chantilly, how she’s getting along.” She leaned on the arm of the couch, and I stood guard in front of her.

  “Lisa . . .” I used Chantilly’s real name and Lynx nodded, letting me know she knew who I meant, “is good. Figuring shit out.”

  “She doesn’t have the same number. Do you have the new one?”

  “Yeah.” I snagged my phone off the desk. “Let’s call her and go see her.”

  “But you’re working.”

  “Nothing Staci can’t handle. Plus, I have to go check on the hotel.”

  “I haven’t seen it yet, the hotel.”

  “One sec.” I held up a finger, my phone to my ear. “Hey, Lisa. How ya doing?”

  I listened as she rattled on for a moment about getting her paperwork in order. I’d offered her a job at reception in the hotel.

  “Sounds great. Listen, Lynx is here and she wants to see you. Can we swing by?”

  Lisa explained she was running out to pick up her daughter, but then would be back home waiting for us.

  “Perfect. See you then,” I said, and disconnected the call.

  “Come on.” I grabbed Lynx’s hand out of habit. “I’ll show you the hotel, and then we’ll go see Lisa.”

  Another small smile formed and then it was gone. Lynx tried to tug her hand from mine when my thumb brushed over a few rough scabs. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned her palm up. Right there, all along the inside of her hand, were small crescent-shaped scars, along with fresher scabs.

  “Don’t,” she said sharply in a warning tone.

  “Babe.” I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed each scar, every wound, taking my time, keeping a firm grip on her wrist. “We’re going to make it better.”

  She didn’t respond, but she didn’t pull her hand away.

  “THANK YOU,” Lynx whispered. She leaned her head back against the headrest after we got into my car, still parked in front of Lisa’s house. “She looks good. Thank you for helping her to get out, get a life. Means a lot. I wish I could do it too, for more women.”

  Understanding what she meant, I nodded. “She was all I had when you disappeared. I looked after her as much as she looked after me. She worried about you almost as much as I did. Now Asher and I are taking care of her. It’s what we do.”

  “What’s with Asher? Does he think he can save the whole world?” Lynx turned her profile to me, the setting sun streaming in the window setting her skin aglow.

  “Not the whole world, but he’s got a soft spot for anyone who reminds him of Natalie. Hard life, even harder time getting out of a rough patch, doing shit on her own. He didn’t know this about himself when he helped Lila. He just thought he was a good guy disguised as a bad one, but I guess he does now. He’s touched so many lives.” Amazed, I shook my head. “Listen to me. I’m a regular Oprah.”

  I laughed for probably the first time in months, my breath coming easily, not in ragged spurts.

  Lynx laughed with me, and hearing that was worth making a fool of myself. Her giggle, soft and full of lightness, blanketed the car in her sexy aura.

  “You too. He helped you too, Michael.”

  I nodded. “In a different way. I needed a dose of real life, away from prep schools and old Vegas money. I needed to become my own man, away from my dad and my needy mom. He helped me. I owe him everything.”

  “You did him proud, especially now with this hotel project. You’re like no man I’ve ever met.”

  At that, I shook my head. “Smoke and mirrors, babe. I’m as human as th
e next, just surrounded myself with good people. Like you’re doing.”

  “Not to me. To me, you’re more.”

  I gave her a big smile. “I guess that’s lucky for me.”

  “Thank you for waiting for me. Believing in me.”

  “It wasn’t hard. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Lynx.”

  The words were there, in my heart, painted on my soul, but I didn’t know if she was ready to hear them again.

  Fuck it.

  I turned all the way in my seat, taking her hand in mine. “I love you.”

  At first, she stared straight ahead, nodding. To what, I didn’t know.

  “I love you too, Michael.” It was barely a whisper, but I heard it all the way to my shoes and back. “But I can’t make promises. I wake up every morning, unsure if I love myself. Most days, I don’t.”

  “L—”

  Suddenly fierce, Lynx held up a hand. “No, don’t pacify me or make promises or swear this or that. I need to love myself every morning in order to love you the way you deserve to be loved. I’m going to try. That’s the best I can do.”

  LYNX WASN’T sure she could do this thing with Mike—unconditional love—but she also didn’t want to go home.

  Except, she didn’t know how or whether to say it or not.

  She also needed to check in with Sammy, but she couldn’t stop rolling Mike’s words around in her head.

  I love you, Lynx.

  She didn’t deserve those words, but she was taking them, absorbing them, wrapping her soul in them. She repeated them, making promises to him to try to get her shit together.

  She’d decided earlier today she would accept Michael’s love and affection. After all, she craved it like potato chips and ice cream when she was PMSing. She went to him, unannounced, carrying a stupid excuse to see him like an extra suitcase at the airport.

  And now, she didn’t want to ever leave him.

  It didn’t make any sense that he wanted her, but she wanted him, so she was taking him. Keeping him.

  I love you, Lynx.

  “I’m not ready to let you go today, not yet,” Mike said as they pulled away from the curb. “I don’t want to take you home.” He had her hand in his and ran his fingers through hers, not asking about the scabs or cuts anymore.

  He let them be—for her.

  “I don’t want to go home.” The words bubbled up in her throat, almost getting stuck, but she pushed them out.

  He gave her a single nod and drove the car, no further words passing between them.

  Lynx didn’t know where he was going, but for the first time in what felt like decades, she allowed someone else to think for her.

  When Mike pulled into the garage of an apartment building, she asked, “Is this where you live now?”

  He nodded. “Couldn’t stand staying in Asher’s house after you left. Needed a place devoid of you, of memories of us. Anyway, now that house is better with Lisa filling it up with good times.”

  Lynx swallowed a lump in her throat at the thought that she’d abandoned him. “I wish I hadn’t left you, but Sammy . . . she was all I could think about. I had a real live sister somewhere out there.”

  “No more regrets,” he demanded. “Speaking of which, you should text her. Won’t she worry?”

  “Yeah. I should.”

  “Come on. You can send her a text when we get upstairs.”

  Mike got out of the SUV and opened her door, then led her to an elevator bank. When they got inside, he pushed twelve and off they went, her shoulder brushing his arm, tiny sparks igniting.

  There were only two apartments on the twelfth floor. Mike’s was the one on the left, a huge daunting wooden door separating his personal space from the hall. To the right of the door was a keypad where he stroked in a code.

  “It’s your old phone number, in case you need to use it,” he said softly as a click echoed through the hall.

  When the door opened, half a floor of Miami’s finest views came into view.

  Lynx walked straight to the windows and stared out at the city before her. She’d come here to help Natalie and to escape Vegas. She’d found her sister and set about being a hero, but in the process, she’d messed up the one thing, the only thing, that mattered.

  Not a thing, a person.

  Michael.

  “Text Sammy,” he reminded her, and when she did, the response was quick.

  SAMMY: Good for you. Thank GOD.

  With her palm to the glass and her eyes trained on the city in front of her, Lynx asked, “Will you ever forgive me?” A cloak of shame fell over her shoulders, dragging her down. She felt like she carried the weight of seventeen men.

  Mike came up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close.

  “It’s not even a question.” He pulled back her hair and ran his mouth along her neck, sucking, nipping, loving. “What happened to your braids,” he asked, his voice hoarse with need.

  “Decided on a new look.”

  “I like it, but your braids . . . I miss them.” His teeth dragged over her ear, latching onto her earlobe. “I want you so fucking bad. All of you.” He squeezed her hip from behind.

  Lynx twisted in his arms so she could face him, and stood on the balls of her feet to reach his mouth. “All of me?” Her lips tickled against his as she spoke.

  “Every inch—past, present, and future.”

  And then he latched onto her mouth. He wasn’t gentle. He was convincing, taking, grabbing her bottom lip between his and sucking.

  A small moan came from Lynx, giving Mike’s tongue entry into her mouth. With her back pressed firmly against the glass, he made love to her mouth, one hand planted on her hip, the other on her ass.

  Lynx craved more friction, but she didn’t want to rush this moment. It was too special, too momentous, too overwhelming with sensations.

  Mike slowed and pulled his mouth away. “Is this okay?”

  She nodded and ran her hand down his arm—noting the goose bumps that formed along her way.

  On Big Mike.

  “I want you,” he said. “Think I said that already, but I can’t help myself. I could say it all fucking night, but I don’t want to pressure you.”

  Mike looked deep in her eyes, searching for an answer, maybe a commitment. She gave one quick nod and he picked her up off the floor, smiling when she wrapped her legs around his middle. He walked with her somewhere. The bedroom, she guessed.

  His bedroom was decorated in white and gray, with a platform king-sized bed covered with a gray comforter. A steel dresser and bureau, and nothing else. The room was impersonal and completely devoid of any color.

  Mike set her on the bed and pulled her shirt off. “There now, the place is a little brighter,” he said, eyeing her red bikini top—a splash of color in the neutral room. He must have read her mind about the space.

  He toed off his basketball shoes and ripped off his shirt, then lay down next to her. His hand smoothed over her belly, his index finger tracing her navel. Lynx noted the difference in their skin tones—his white to her soft brown. It never bothered her before, but after Zayid and his obsession with skin color, she wondered.

  “Does it bother you? My skin?”

  Mike’s hand stilled. “Say what?”

  “With the hotel and everything, you’re going legit, making a name and all that. What will your parents say? Vegas royalty and a biracial chick?”

  “Lynx, I’ve never loved anyone the way I’ve loved you. All of you. I don’t care if you’re red, blue, orange, or purple.” His words came in puffs against her cheek. Then he rolled on top of her, keeping his weight on his elbow. “You’re so gorgeous.”

  Kissing her deeply, he let his hand wander up and down her side, dipping his thumb into her jeans until he stopped, bent, and shimmied them off with her Chucks. Making quick work of his jeans and boxers, they were skin to skin except for Lynx’s bikini top and thong.

  Mike knelt over her, his knees on either side of hers,
his hand running up and down the inside of her thighs. His finger swirled over her panties. When he found they were soaked, he moaned and dipped his finger beneath them, running over her bare mound. He rubbed her most sensitive spot, and she came alive.

  Lynx closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel every sensation, each pulse and touch. Mike’s teeth moved her top out of the way and closed over one nipple, his hand never leaving her core until she came, reaching a height she thought she’d never see again.

  Then he was sheathed and inside her, her thong and bikini top tossed to the floor. He started slow and gentle, then he went fast and hard, her leg hooked over his hip, until the only word they knew was each other’s names.

  I LAY there with my eyes wide open, afraid to close them, terrified that Lynx would disappear again. She was sleeping in my arms, snuggled into my side, soft and naked, her tattoo on display, and I couldn’t stop watching her breathing. Her rib cage rose and fell, and my gaze lingered on each movement as if my very next breath depended on it.

  I kissed the top of her head, letting my lips linger one beat, then two. I had to make this work. We both had shit in our pasts we wanted to forget, and it was time to push forward.

  It was up to me to make it all happen.

  “Hey.” Lynx stirred in my arms. “What time is it?”

  “About midnight.”

  “Wow, I should go.” She propped herself up on one arm.

  “Don’t.”

  I expected a fight, braced myself for her grabbing her clothes, calling a cab, tossing my love back in my face.

  “Okay,” was all she said before she settled back into my arms.

  Okay.

  It was only minutes before Lynx was fast asleep again, her body warm and still pressed against mine. At some point, I dozed next to her, falling into the best sleep I’d had in a long time.

  LYNX WAS in my shower. In my shower!

  It was surreal.

  I was making breakfast when her phone rang in her bag. A chill ran down my spine, remembering the days when Bruno would call and she would give in to his demands. Pushing any negative thoughts to the back of my mind, I focused on making coffee, resisting the urge to look at her phone.

 

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