by Abbi Glines
He broke the kiss just as quickly as he had initiated it and leaned back, his hand still on my thigh as if he owned it and wanted to remind me of it.
A tall, lanky guy with bright orange hair and lots of freckles appeared. It must be Greg. He seemed to be flushed red, and I wondered if he had attempted to approach us seconds before when our lips had been passionately locked. He wouldn’t look me in the eye, so I was guessing that was the case. I hoped so, because otherwise, it would be a shame if his skin was always so red. He already had all those freckles and that horrible orange hair. A good stylist could fix that and give him more of an auburn color that would at least make the freckles less offensive.
“Good evening. My name is Greg, and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?” He sounded nervous.
“A bottle of 1990 Chave Hermitage,” Gannon ordered, as if sure that this place would have such an unknown French wine in the States. It also happened to be my favorite red wine.
Greg went about filling our water glasses while I stared at Gannon, trying to decide if this was a joke. “Yes, sir,” Greg responded, and he walked away.
“Did you just order a bottle of Hermitage in a restaurant in a casino?” I asked, trying to decide if I might have misheard him.
Gannon looked down at me and smirked. “Yes.” Of course, that was all he was going to say.
“That’s a French red wine that happens to be my favorite but you can’t find it easily in the States and definitely not at a restaurant like this. You ordered a vintage Hermitage.”
He looked annoyed, and his hand tightened on my thigh.
When he did this, I knew I’d stepped over the line he kept invisibly drawn before us. Something that should annoy me but didn’t. I liked the idea of the line taunting me to cross it.
“I don’t need a wine lesson. I’m aware of what I ordered. Damn high-maintenance woman,” he finished with an exasperated mutter.
“Did you just call me high-maintenance?” I asked, straightening my posture and shooting him a glare that was definitely crossing his line.
He turned back to me after taking a sip of his water and almost laughed. “Yes, sweetheart, I did. You are the most high-maintenance woman I’ve ever met.”
That didn’t sound good at all. But he was probably correct in that assumption. I was terribly high-maintenance. Still, it was rude for him to say that. “That’s rude,” I told him.
“As are you, my dear.”
I had opened my mouth to say something brilliantly sassy when the server appeared with the wine. I was a little more than excited that they had the Hermitage. I found it hard to believe that Gannon had just randomly chosen my favorite wine. It wasn’t an easy guess. “How did you know this was my favorite?” I asked.
“Because I care,” he said simply, and then began to order our first course without consulting me. I was relieved to hear that it was tuna tartare, so I didn’t complain. But a part of me wanted to. Just because.
Between quips and small talk, I got very little out of Gannon. He, however, found out that I lived in Rosemary Beach, that my father was the rock legend Kiro Manning, and that I had two siblings from Kiro, neither of whom had much to do with me, one sibling from my mother whom I was very close to, and a nephew I adored.
Somehow he had managed to keep me talking while evading all questions directed at him. Stubborn man.
Major
This was quite possibly the dumbest thing I’d ever done, but I was drunk and pissed off. I wasn’t walking my ass to Mexico. Hell the fuck no. Who in their right mind thought I was that stupid? Fuck that shit. I was going where I wanted to go.
Right after I dropped off this little note to Nan. I stumbled up her front steps and unlocked her door using the code I knew by heart, then disabled her alarm. Once it was safe to enter, I glanced down at my black clothing, grinning at my breaking-and-entering gear. I’d thought this shit through. Over eight shots of tequila.
Right there on her kitchen counter, I placed a note. It was simple and not as fancy as those colored envelopes Cope had given me to give her. This one wouldn’t have any lovely love sonnets or whatever the hell were in them. Nope . . . this one would have the truth. What she needed to know.
Because damn if she wasn’t innocent. She was too superficial and worried about her next manicure and trip to Paris to be in with a criminal. That wasn’t Nan. If Cope didn’t see that yet, then he wasn’t as great as everyone thought he was. He needed work.
The thing was, I didn’t think he believed that Nan was involved with anything. He’d been watching her as she ate, slept, watched the fucking TV, showered, and whatever the hell else she did for two months. He knew she was innocent. Why he was determined to prove otherwise I wasn’t sure. But she needed to know it.
I looked around her house one last time and felt a twinge of sadness. I’d miss Nan. I’d miss the fun times we did have before it all went to shit. Maybe she might have been the one for me. Maybe if I’d loved her when she had wanted me to, she would have changed my life. But I hadn’t, and now she was out of my reach.
I owed this to her. She needed to know the truth. What they were doing to her was wrong. Nan was special. She’d been misunderstood her entire life, and this was just one more cruelty she would have to overcome. She’d never forgive me, and my telling her would only make her hate me more.
But she meant enough to me that I wanted her to know. She would probably be my one that got away, the one I’d remember years from now and wonder about. It was done now. All of it.
It was time I peaced out.
Nan
My body was beautifully exhausted when I stretched the next morning. Sunlight was streaming into my suite, and strong arms were around me, pulling me against a wide chest that made me feel safe. After our delicious meal and two bottles of wine, we had come back up to my suite and had incredible hot sex for hours.
Never had I actually had sex for two hours straight. I didn’t know that was possible. That wasn’t even counting the foreplay, either. Straight-up sex that went on for two hours. I’d lost count of my orgasms. He was better than my dreams but so similar.
I touched my cheek. The slap he’d given me had startled me, because I’d thought that happened in my dreams only. Apparently, I had been wrong. It didn’t sting, and I knew there would be no mark left. I moved my hand to touch my shoulder, which had been bruised from my too-real dream, and it was still tender. Gannon hadn’t even mentioned it, but then, we had been kind of preoccupied.
“You’re on birth control.” It wasn’t a question as much as a statement, but I still nodded my head. He didn’t even sound as if he had been sleeping. His voice was the same deep, smooth darkness as always.
“I’m clean. I get tested often, and since I was last tested, I haven’t been with a woman.”
We had gotten carried away last night, and the condom had broken. Neither of us had seemed to care and had continued on after he ripped it off and tossed it. This morning, I hadn’t even been worried about it. I trusted Gannon. It was probably stupid, but I couldn’t help it. I just did.
“Me, too,” I told him. “I’ve never had unprotected sex, though. Until now.”
His arm tightened around me. “Good. I don’t want to have anything between us again.”
My heart did a silly flip, and I wrapped my arms around his and smiled. I was happy. Completely and totally blissful. Never in my life had I felt like this. I knew he wanted me. I knew he would protect me. And I had fallen in love with this insane, brilliant, sexy man. I hadn’t meant to. I never let my heart actually love, but I had this time. I’d let it love him because it trusted him.
I wasn’t sure he could love in return, but I’d enjoy what he did give me. Until he left. Closing my eyes tightly, I tried to keep the sadness of that thought away. I was happy, and I would enjoy it. Every moment I got.
“Do you want to run after breakfast?” he asked close to my ear, and I shivered from the warm tickle of his breat
h.
“Yes,” I replied. If he was going, I wanted to be there.
“I know a good place. It’s where I run when I’m in town.”
Smiling, I snuggled closer to him.
“You keep wiggling that hot ass on me, and we’ll fuck before breakfast. I was going to give that tight little pussy a break this morning, but you’re asking to be fucked.”
The naughty way he talked about sex made me want more of it. He was right, I was sore, but when he talked to me like that, I didn’t care. I wanted more. So I did what any woman in my position would do. I wiggled my ass.
He had me pressed on my stomach, jerking my bottom up with his tight grip on my waist, before I could draw another breath. Two pillows were shoved under my stomach, and then his hand came down hard on my left butt cheek. “You want fucked. I’ll fuck you.”
He was rough but not as much as he had been last night. The fact that he put pillows under my stomach trying to make me more comfortable and the way he eased into me instead of slamming into me made my heart swell. He cared. He was taking care of me. Even with his dirty mouth and threatening attitude, he wasn’t willing to hurt me.
That in itself was enough to make me reach my first climax quickly. The gentle way he ran his hands over my back and grabbed my bottom was all it took to send me to my second one. I was going to die from too many orgasms and too much sex with this man, but I just didn’t care. It was a good way to go.
Red Rock Canyon was breathtaking. I enjoyed my run along the beach every morning at home, but this was different. It was a trail of canyons, peaks, and ledges. I wanted to take it all in, but I also wanted to take in the way Gannon’s body looked when he ran. Especially his muscular legs in those shorts. It was very distracting from nature’s beauty.
We didn’t talk much during the run, which was good. I didn’t want to run and talk. My mind wandered when I ran, and it was almost as if I was out here alone with my thoughts. I wasn’t, of course, because Gannon’s presence was always there tempting me to look his way.
Frustratingly, he hadn’t even glanced my way once, and I’d worn the tight short and sports bra he had mentioned in my dream. It seemed that real-life Gannon wasn’t driven to angry sex by the sight of me in this outfit. Damn fantasy.
Hikers passed us as we turned our run into a jog near the end. I was used to a flat landscape, even if it was sand, and that was easier than this terrain. My breathing was hard, and sweat was running down the middle of my bare back. I reached up and wiped away the sweat on my forehead with my arm and breathed a sigh of relief when we arrived back where we had started.
Gannon went over to the car and pulled out our water bottles and hand towels and gave me one of each. I dried the sweat and downed the bottle before feeling ready to move again.
We left there and went to the place where he’d first taken me for breakfast in old Vegas. I loved the healthy options and enjoyed the meal, while he asked me more questions about my life. I had given up asking him things and decided he’d tell me when he was ready.
Somehow, we had gotten to this loser I had dated for a while in Paris last spring, named Franco something—I couldn’t remember. He had annoyed me, but he’d been pretty and had a lot of money to throw around. Not to mention his connections. I liked his connections and the places he was able to get us into. But in the end, the man had given me the creeps, and I’d figured out some things about him that were major warnings signs, so I’d left him there and gone back home.
When I was done talking about that episode in Loserville, I glanced up from my egg whites with toast to see that I had Gannon’s complete attention. I wasn’t sure why he looked so serious. As if he was trying to read more into my words than was there. I was just answering his questions and making small talk.
“Are you judging me for ditching him? You’ve never decided a woman was a waste of your time and bolted?” I asked him with a grin that I hoped would soften him up. “Don’t go feeling bad for Franco. He wasn’t in love or anything. It was a short fling. That’s it. A mistake on my part, because I think the man was into some seedy stuff. When I started getting that vibe, I hightailed it home.”
Gannon took the napkin from his lap and put it on the table and laid a one-hundred-dollar bill on the table.
“Let’s go,” he said with a commanding do not argue tone.
So I went.
The door to my suite slammed shut the moment I stepped through it, and I spun around, startled.
“Get that sorry excuse for clothing off. Now!” Gannon said as he ripped off his shirt and began working on the laces in his athletic shorts.
I liked the angry sex face, and I was getting it now. His pupils were enlarged, and the blackness in his eyes was overwhelming. I bent down to untie my shoes, and before I could get the first one done, he grabbed me and shoved me up against the wall.
“You wear fucking slut clothes and drive me crazy with it. Men look at you and want you, when I’m the only one who gets to take you back to your room and fuck you. But you made me wait for it. I don’t like waiting, damn you.”
The fierceness in his tone had me panting like a dog in heat. His mouth came over mine, and I wrapped my arms around his neck while inhaling his scent and devouring his taste. I loved everything about him. The way he treated me, the way he looked at me, the way he made me laugh, the way he cared what I said, the way he made me feel safe.
He tore his mouth from mine, and jerked my sports bra off over my head, and tossed it aside before lowering his mouth to suck on my breast. I loved his hair and burying my hands in it. I enjoyed the heat and wetness encircling my nipples, along with the bites he took of my tender flesh. I had several marks on my chest and stomach from his teeth already, but I wanted them there. It made me feel I was really his.
He pulled my shorts and panties down to my ankles and spun me around. “Hands on the wall,” he snarled.
I did as I was told, and he was inside me. Filling me up until I screamed from the intrusion.
“Take it, Nan. Take it like a good girl.” He growled in my ear, then took me to heaven and dropped me off.
I would take whatever he was giving. When he was like this, it drove me to the insanity that I craved. I’d never have believed that a man could make me hot for him by acting the way he did. There was an instability to him that wasn’t safe. Yet I had never felt as safe as I did when I was in his arms. Even when he was hurting me, he was loving me all the same. Nothing would compare to this. Ever.
“You flaunt your body because you want this,” he said, pulling my hair so that my neck arched back. “This is what you’re wanting, what you need.”
“Yes,” I agreed, because he was right. This was definitely what I needed. What I was wanting.
“Only me,” he groaned in my ear. “Only fucking me. No one else can give this to you.”
Again, he was completely right. I only wanted this from him.
“Say it!” he yelled, jerking my head back hard. “Tell me.”
I let him jerk hard enough that the sting made my eyes water, and then I smiled. “Only you!” I cried out just before I came.
It’s those moments right before you wake up when you know something is off. That things aren’t quite right. The deep slumber you’ve enjoyed lifts, and the uneasiness around you settles in. You want to burrow back under the covers and let the safety of sleep claim you some more, but you have to open your eyes and face the truth. Whatever the truth is, you have to accept it.
I hated those moments. They were all too real in my life, but I knew that this time, I wouldn’t be the same again. It would alter me. Alter my life, and I’d never be able to get back to the way it was. So I lay there with my eyes closed, feeling the coldness surround me. Letting reality seep through my skin and prepare me for what was to come.
Because when I opened my eyes, I knew, I just knew, he would be gone. I could feel it. I had known it deep down when he had gone from fucking me to actually making love to me like he could
n’t get inside me enough. As if he wanted to live under my skin. I’d known this was different. The strength I’d seen in him had failed, and he was showing a weakness.
I shouldn’t have given in to the exhaustion and fallen asleep in his arms. I should have stayed awake and faced him. Confronted him. But I had foolishly hoped that my gut was wrong. That he hadn’t been telling me good-bye.
Slowly, I opened my eyes to the room now lit with late-afternoon sun, and it was empty except for me. I could jump up and frantically search for a note or wait for him to return, but neither would happen. He was gone, and he’d left no note.
That wasn’t like him. He wasn’t a keeper. He ran when the time came. For him, that time had come today. I’d seen it in his eyes and in the way he’d tried to memorize my every feature. My heart had tried to prepare me, and I had ignored it. I would face the consequences of that now.
The truth was, I loved a man who would never love me. I wasn’t enough for him, or he would have stayed. Chasing him was futile. He didn’t want to be found. He’d given me what I had come here for: closure.
I had my closure, and he had his.
Finding a way to move on from him would be hard. I might never accomplish it. I wouldn’t chase him, but I would mourn him. As if he were dead, my heart would weaken, and I’d embrace the pain and sadness. Until Gannon, I’d never been truly happy. No one had made me feel complete or like I belonged.
In his arms, I had found a home that I couldn’t have, because it was never really mine.
I sat up in bed and stared out the window at the fountains, remembering how they had looked while he’d brought me to an orgasm last night. It was an image I would lock away in my memory and keep there. It was my reassurance that he had been real and that he had been mine all too briefly.