Reclaiming Love (Tainted Love Book 2)

by Lily Zante

  “Not long. Did Finn stay over?” Melissa asked, as she sat up and gratefully took her cup.

  “He crashed here a while, then left a couple of hours later. He said he wanted to walk back instead of waiting until the morning.” She sat down beside Melissa and crossed her legs, making herself at home.

  “Commitment issues?” Melissa took a sip and felt the bitter liquid glide down her throat. Damn good. She took another sip. How anyone made it to eleven o’clock without a shot of caffeine was beyond her.

  Heather said nothing, but her eyes, as wide as saucers, examined Melissa. Melissa knew exactly why—she’d been spared the MI5 interrogation last night because Finn and Heather had disappeared into her bedroom once they got back. There was a reason her friend had brought her coffee this morning. Heather cleared her throat noisily. “When are you going to tell me about this gorgeous new guy of yours? I didn’t know coffee shop pickups were your thing.”

  “He’s not a coffee shop pickup.”

  “You’ve never said a thing about him before. I’m not having a go at you or anything—but you seemed kind of into him last night. And he’s so into you. It’s so obvious. Even before the two of you got into lip lockdown mode.”

  Melissa clutched her coffee cup tightly. She’d never mentioned anything to Heather about Noah before because it had all been so subtle. He’d crept up on her slowly like a tide that had come in on a sun-kissed beach.

  “I used to see him in the coffee shop most mornings.”

  Heather placed her cup down, fluffed up a pillow and laid it up against the headboard. She made herself comfortable against it. “I’m ready. Now, tell me more.”

  “There’s nothing more to tell.” Melissa snorted. She wanted to keep everything about Noah to herself. Until she got things sorted out with Matt, and only then could figure out where she and Noah were headed.

  “You see this guy in the coffee shop and all of a sudden you’re locking lips with him in a wrestle that a WWE fighter would be proud of?” Heather was at her finest when seeking new information and doling out advice. “Talking of barbarians, what do you think your psycho ex is going to say about this?”

  Melissa groaned into her coffee cup. She was going to have to do something quickly. She couldn’t start anything with Noah until Matt was out of the picture.

  “How do you suppose he’s going to handle the news of you seeing someone so quickly after dumping him? And remember, right now, as far as he’s concerned, the two of you are still together. You’re having a break.” She said the last bit in air-quotes. “Don’t be surprised if he thinks you were cheating on him.”

  Melissa swallowed hard. Heather was right. He already thought that. When Matt had accused her of finding someone else, she’d told him the truth. There was no one else. Nothing had happened with Noah at that point.

  Nothing physical. But she’d been starting to become emotionally involved with him many weeks before. Did that count as being disloyal?

  And it had all changed last night. She hadn’t given Noah everything, and he hadn’t sought more. But she’d given and taken enough to know that they were both at the same place, that they both wanted more of each other, from each other.

  “What’s with you and Finn?” Melissa asked, to take the focus away from her. Heather grinned at her like a woman let loose from bedlam. “Nothing.” Her coyness suggested otherwise.

  “Didn’t look like nothing to me. The way the two of you carried on most of the night.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  Melissa couldn’t say anything.

  “He’s kind of cute, don’t you think?” Heather’s bed head hair framed her perfectly round face. She yawned. “I’m not sure I want a serious boyfriend right now. Life’s too short to taste the same ice cream for too long.”

  Melissa shook her head, as her friend lay languorously on her bed, a smile on her face. This was where she and Heather differed. Melissa wanted one love. She’d had her share of boyfriend disasters. She didn’t care for moving from guy to guy.

  She wanted one, loyal, hers forever kind of love. And so she knew she had to fix it and soon. She’d have to fix it today.

  ~~

  After broken sleep, in which he spent a couple of hours lying in bed thinking about Melissa, Noah was up and at his desk providing remote support to one of their top clients. He wanted to fix their issue remotely, from his bedroom—the thought of going to the client’s site didn’t appeal.

  If it weren’t for the emergency call that had been escalated to him, he’d have stayed in bed with nothing but thoughts of Melissa roaming freely in his head.

  Last night had turned out beyond his expectations.

  Especially when the last person he expected to run into at the new bar was Melissa.

  She was everything he needed and wanted to take away his blue and gray. He’d forgotten what it was like, being close to someone, so close he could almost feel her heart beating against his chest. He was starting to remember what it was like to hold someone so full of flesh and warmth.

  Towards the end, Bree had been a bag of bones. Holding her then had been hard. He’d thought he might break her.

  But with Melissa last night, feeling her fullness in his arms, knowing the build up to this stage had been long and slow and hit and miss, it only made their getting together so much more powerful, so much more meaningful. So much more everything.

  He’d been mindful of keeping within his limits, not wanting to rush into anything. As much as he wanted her and as much as he knew she wanted him, he would let her set the pace. And she’d told him with her moans, her sighs, her hot breath, her eager lips, that she did want more.

  He would wait. He could wait. She was worth waiting for. She had been everything he’d dreamed of, and more.

  He needed to taste those lips again. But for today, not having any way of contacting her, he’d have to rely on his memories of yesterday. While he dealt with this heavily escalating support call.

  Chapter 28

  “Thanks,” said Melissa, and walked into the apartment where Matt lived. She’d seen the guy who opened the door once before. He gave her a smile, which did little to disguise his irritation that he’d had to open the door to someone who clearly wasn’t his visitor.

  She crept along the hallway and through the kitchen towards Matt’s room and knocked. It had been a gamble coming here unannounced. Two soft knocks. “Are you there? It’s me.”

  He opened the door himself and his face brightened as soon as he saw her. She squirmed, knowing she was here as a bearer of bad news. She’d barely made it through the door when he uttered a “Happy New Year” and scooped his arm around her, smacking his lips down hard on hers.

  She pushed away, quickly.

  “What’s wrong?” He closed the door behind her, the skin around his eyes tight as he faced her.

  She walked to the furthest point of his room and settled herself on the chair at the side of his bed, already feeling uneasy. Maybe she should have met him in a restaurant or a more public place? The bedroom was a bad choice. But after her talk with Heather this morning, her mind analyzing and strategizing her options, while Heather chattered on about Finn, she knew she had to tell him today. Right now, so that she could start anew. A need for this to be over quickly had pushed her into coming here before she talked herself out of it. She’d figured it would be better than discussing it at work. And she didn’t want to prolong things any further.

  Giving him false hope wouldn’t bode well.

  But as she almost cowered in the corner, the way he looked at her, calm and deadly, made her think it had been unwise of her to visit him here.

  She clutched her handbag protectively across her stomach, almost as if it were a riot shield.

  “You didn’t call me back last night.” His tone half-questioning, half-accusatory, as he moved closer to her, one hand on his hip.

  She cleared her throat. “I didn’t hear it ring.” Her stomach muscles tightened and sh
e regretted having that bagel for breakfast. Her breathing felt tight, and already, the walls in the room seemed to close in.

  He nodded his head slowly, taking in her words, as if knowing she was slowly leading him to slaughter. “Where were you?” He sat down on the bed, slanted her a look and patted his hand on the space beside him, commanding her to come over. But she stayed where she was.

  “We went to Zoot.”

  “Yeah?”

  “What did you do?” she asked, hoping to direct attention away from Zoot.

  He ignored the question. “Who did you go with?”

  “Heather and some friends.” She prayed her face wouldn’t color.

  “Must have been some night—if you didn’t even hear your phone go off.”

  She wanted to get her sentence out. To say the thing, to do the deed. “It was busy. You know how it gets on New Year’s.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t there.”

  Silence.

  Say it now, she thought to herself, her leg muscles tightening, as if she was getting ready to sprint off.

  “I stayed here, by myself, giving you that space you needed. I missed you.” His voice was steady.

  “So you said.” She hoped he wouldn’t see or smell the fear that swallowed her whole. “I got that first photo you sent me. I didn’t like it.” She swallowed. Say it now.

  He narrowed his eyes. “It’s a private moment, between you and me. I don’t get why you always make a big deal of it.”

  “If you think taking photos of me in my underwear is something I like, or something I want you to do—to use me like some piece of meat—then you don’t know me at all.”

  He sprang up, nostrils flared, and stepped towards her. “You’re blowing it out of proportion. I had a girlfriend who enjoyed having her photos taken. It’s…no big deal.”

  “It is to me. It might have been fine with whoever, but I don’t like it. I’ve told you that before.”

  “It’s harmless fun. Look, I kind of thought you’d be upset. So I sent you another one…I waited up all night, waiting to hear from you. And you never called me back.” He exhaled loudly and shook his head. “It’s not a big deal. When I miss you, I look at your photos. What’s so wrong with that? If anyone should be angry around here, it’s me because you didn’t even call me yesterday.”

  She gave him a contemptuous look. “You need to value my opinion.”

  “My girlfriend’s hot—and she has a great body, now that she’s working out. How about you drop it and we move on?” He gave her a lopsided grin, which soon disappeared when she didn’t answer. “What’s the matter, Mel? Still so cold? Do you need more time or something? ‘Cos I want you back.”

  It was now or never. She felt the saliva drain right out of her mouth, shivered when the hairs at the back of her neck stood to attention. “That’s the thing. I’m not sure coming back is the right thing.” The words fell out, came out easier than she thought, even though she was trapped in a corner.

  He took a step closer and sucked the sudden strength she’d found right out of here. Bending down until his face was level with hers, he ran a finger down her cheek. “It must have been some night.” She instinctively moved back until her back pressed firmly against the back of the chair. She felt her chest fall and rise quickly, and with a heroic shift of focus managed to stand up slowly, hoping he would move back. He didn’t.

  “Matt,” she said, edging away.

  He ran his thumb slowly over her bottom lip. “I’ve missed you, Mel. Last night, when we should have been together, I missed you real bad. And when I look at those pictures of you, I get lonely. You make me want to—” His voice was low, the intensity in his eyes slicing through her.

  She closed her eyes, not wanting to know what she made him feel. But her legs started to buckle under her. She opened her eyes again, forced herself to stand taller. “You make me feel cheap and dirty when you say things like that.”

  “You’re nothing like cheap and dirty.” He moved closer, until she could feel his breath on her face. When she turned her head away, he took her jaw in his hands and moved her face back to center so that she was forced to stare at him. She moved her hand to pull his thumb away, but he gripped it. “You’re my girl and when you’re not around—when you need your space, it’s all I have.”

  Say it. But she couldn’t. Paralysis glued her rigid, rendered her motionless. “I want my photos back.”

  He did a double take. “Why?” He still held her hand even as she tried to edge away, the front of the chair hard against the back of her knee.

  She dared herself to meet his stare and looked right at him when the unspoken consequences of her request finally hit him. She felt powerless.

  Smiling, he slipped her bag off her shoulder and moved his hand around her neck, his fingers nudging against her nape. “Why do you want them back, Melissa?”

  She jerked at his touch. “You should never have taken them in the first place.”

  “I don’t recall you complaining too much when I took them.” He breathed in. “God, you smell good enough to eat. You have no idea how you make me feel.”

  She tried to pry his finger away from her neck. “We need to talk.” But he’d dipped his head and sunk his lips onto hers. A ball of anger rolled inside her when she felt his heavy tongue deep in her mouth. She tried again, to pry his fingers away, but without success.

  He groaned into her mouth and, suddenly seeing red, she tried to lift her knee to kick him but couldn’t move. She wriggled until he finally pulled away, his lips wet, his eyes dark, and his heavy breathing the only noise between them.

  “Asshole,” she said, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

  He stepped back, grinning at her. “Told you I missed you.”

  Her rage simmered silently below the surface. “You’re not listening to me.”

  “I heard you. What do you want to talk about?” She saw the muscle at the side of his temple twitch.

  “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. I’ve thought some more about us—you and me—and I don’t need anymore time to tell me what I already know.”

  “And what would that be?” He moved back into her private space and leaned closer still, as close as he could without touching her.

  “I can’t be with you anymore.”

  “Can’t be? It sounds like someone’s stopping you.”

  “I don’t want to be.” She tried to swallow lightly. “We don’t work.” She waited for his response.

  Silence.

  “Don’t you have anything to say?” She’d expected him to be that wheedling, needy Matt of a few days ago, the one who’d turned up on her doorstep and pleaded for her to think about it. This time, his gaze said otherwise.

  “Seems to me that you’ve already made your mind up.” He didn’t move an inch.

  Her heart pounded and she heard the rush of blood in her ears. And saw the bulge in his trousers. She swallowed again. She had to get out now.

  If only it was as easy as walking out of his place and out of his life forever. And starting anew with Noah. “I want one thing.” She picked up her bag and held it in front of her stomach again. It was the one thing that kept his body from touching hers.

  “What’s that?”

  “My photos. I want them back. Every single one of them. Off your phone and off your PC.” If she had only known back then how things would turn out, she would have spoken up sooner, defended herself, not given in to his sulky moods. Not let him have it his way.

  “See, that’s just it. I want one thing too.” He licked his lips.

  She prepared herself. “What?”

  “You.”

  She exhaled slowly. “I don’t know how to get this through to you, but I don’t think we’re going to work.”

  He smiled then. “Who’s talking about us working?” He dipped his head towards her until he was so close to her she could feel his hot breath skimming her skin. She swallowed the urge to sprint
out of the door.

  “I’m talking about a goodbye present.”

  She frowned. A present? “What goodbye present?”

  “A last time with you. You know what I mean.” She shrank back as his intention revealed itself to her already troubled mind.

  “A final fuck.” He demanded, in case she was left in doubt.

  The reality of his demand flared before her and she suppressed the thought in the moment it took her to blink once, twice. “You can’t be serious.” He traced a finger lightly up and down her waist. “One last time. Think about it.”

  “You’re disgusting.” Her voice lowered to a whisper.

  “And then I’ll let you go.”

  “I’m not yours to let go. I can walk out of here anytime I want.”

  He moved away completely, held his hands up as if admitting defeat. “So go.”

  She flinched at the sudden howl of laughter out in the hallway. In the fog of fear surrounding her, the thought that she wasn’t alone, that the other guys would help her, came to her. But her body felt limp. Her legs, her arms, her head were heavy and it was a struggle to move, even though she focused on the door—a mere few tantalizing steps away.

  She could escape.

  “I’m as hard as hell for you right now, Mel. Think about it. One last time, and I’ll give you the photos. All of them. And I’ll never hound you again or beg you to come back. You’ll never have to worry about those pictures turning up on some social media site, or being accidentally sent to your family, or hell, your employer. You wouldn’t want those images on the net, would you?”

  She’d been frozen in place, unable to take a step forward the whole time she’d been staring at the door.

  “You wouldn’t do that,” she whispered, turning to look at him in shock. But even as her gaze drifted from his face and fell to the floor, she knew what he was capable of. And that she could not get away.

  “Wouldn’t I?”

  “You bastard.”

  “Come on, Mel. What do you say?” His voice, the lowest she’d ever heard it, spoke softly into her ear and her heart pounded against her ribcage as if it too was desperate for escape.