Crave: Addicted To You

by Ash Harlow

  “I think you’re at the right part.”

  “Sure feels like it.” He withdrew his fingers, and, with both hands beneath her thighs, guided them open and nestled his hips between. Taking hold of himself, he pressed his cock at her entrance, pushed in only an inch or two, and waited. She was grabbing short snatches of breath as he leaned over her to lick her ear as he continued to push into her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Never had she been so completely filled, so covered and protected. His fingers were laced through her hair, his face inches away, smiling in what she was certain was a reflection of her own expression. Gradually she reclaimed her breath as she adjusted to the size of him within her, and they lay still, quiet, feeling each other.

  He continued to cradle her head as he trailed small kisses across her face, around her eyes and softly toward her lips. “Everything okay here?” She heard and felt his voice, the tone gentle, the edges a bit raw.

  Marlo inhaled deeply. “Very okay,” she replied.

  He lifted his hips, slowly drawing himself out and she voiced her pleasure. His lips brushed lightly over hers, and as he lowered himself, he parted her lips with his tongue, penetrating her mouth, his tongue matching his stroke, slowly at first then with increasing need, more force, more depth, harder. And never mind what was happening between her legs, because the kiss alone was blowing her mind.

  As her head was released, she shivered. His hands moved down, reached underneath her, cupped her buttocks, lifted her and pulled her to him. She let out a cry as her arousal scaled up to something more urgent, her entire focus on the heat and pressure building in her core, and she started to press more of herself against him, desperate for the ache to reach its peak.

  His voice stroked her ear. Hot breath, steamy words, and a warm tongue all mixed together to ignite that fuse that ran down her neck, branched through her nipples, and snaked all the way down to her clit. She whimpered, begging for release, and all the time he held her tight, safe, rocking into her. Safe.

  This protection was different than anything she’d experienced. It cushioned her fears while at the same time cracking her vulnerability so that she felt strengthened.

  His arms enveloped her, supporting her as he thrust deeper now. “I’m right here with you, Marlo,” he whispered. “Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “Trust me then. Let yourself go.” His voice in her ear, rumbling with restraint, made her tremble, and that’s what brought on the explosion. His words, his tenderness. She climaxed hard, grinding into him, almost wanting it to hurt and a few beats later she heard her name in a loud male call of release.

  They lay quietly, gathering themselves as their breathing slowed. She wrapped her arms around his back, tracing her fingertips up and down either side of his spine. He shivered and lay more heavily against her. Finally he pushed himself up, resting on his forearms, his hands overlapped on the top of her head.

  “Look at me,” he insisted. His eyes were still filled with fire, holding her with him, warming her. “Thank you. Thank you for giving yourself so completely and honestly to me. That was very beautiful, very precious.”

  Marlo’s face heated. Now she was broken open and bared. She tried to gather it all back in…her heart, her soul, the essence of her that she’d never allowed anyone else to see. She wanted to reassemble it, and zip it back up in her carryall to keep it safe. Her eyes brimmed, and a couple of tears escaped but were quickly caught by Adam’s lips.

  “Hey, don’t cry, little tiger.”

  “Well, don’t say nice words to me!”

  They moved to her bed, whispering, stroking each other to sleep. In the night when Fala needed to go outside, Marlo returned to a warm bed and a warm body. She propped herself on an elbow, watching the steady rise and fall of Adam’s chest, the twitch of his eyes above a thick curl of lashes. She tucked herself neatly alongside him and carefully stroked his shoulder, not wanting to wake him but needing to be certain he wasn’t a shadowy figment of some phantom she coveted, something other people, undamaged people, had. She probably didn’t deserve this, but she would enjoy it for the moment.

  Until he returned to New Zealand. But they’d deal with that when the time came. A broken heart should be easy. She’d survived worse.

  Adam stirred and gripped her hand, pulling it around him, kissing her fingers before drawing it tightly against his chest. “Sleep now. You can have more in the morning.”

  His whispered words nestled right between her legs, causing a deep pulse of arousal. Talk about waking the sleeping giant. She huddled against his hard buttocks and tried to quiet her mind.

  When Adam woke, Marlo had already left the bed. Again. That girl had so much to learn about morning sex. The memory of last night stunned him, and he lay back on the pillows, one arm thrown above his head. He could still smell her, feel how they fit so perfectly together, recall the moment when she handed herself over to him so completely. The moment she seemed to trust that he wouldn’t harm her. He closed his eyes and considered the many ways to entice her back to bed before he heard a gut-wrenching howl of anguish.

  Oh. Hell.

  He threw back the sheet, swung his feet to the floor, and searched for his jeans, remembering they’d ditched their clothes out on the patio the night before. “Marlo, hang on. I’m coming.”

  He ran into the kitchen and stopped. Marlo was leaning against the bench, knuckles white with the death grip she had on the telephone, her face ashen. He reached toward her. “Come, tell me what’s happened.”

  She shook her head. God, all of her was shaking. The phone dropped to the counter, clattering between them. She looked up, and her fury edged with hurt pierced him. “Justice is dead. You promised me he was safe…and now they’ve killed him.”

  “Marlo, no.” He walked toward her.

  “Stay away from me.”

  The pitch of her voice had escalated with her stress. “They haven’t killed him. That’s not possible.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself in a tight grasp. “That…” she nodded at the phone, “that was Animal Control. I called to see how he was getting on, and the man who answered had no records for him.”

  “That doesn’t mean they’ve euthanized him.”

  Denial shook her head. “He searched further and found the order for Justice to be destroyed. He said they did it yesterday.”

  Adam pushed his thumb against his temple, trying to find a release valve for the pressure building in his skull. This could not be happening. “Wait, honey, let me get dressed, and I’ll talk to Butch. We’ll sort this out.”

  He went out to the patio where his clothes were strewn. Shit, shit, shit. What on earth could have happened? CRAR were supposed to pick up Justice last night. He patted down his pockets and found his phone complete with a drained battery. Oh triple shit again. Was anything going to go right today?

  When he returned to the kitchen, Marlo was at the sink. He moved to wrap her in his arms, to dilute some of the pain, but she spun swiftly from his reach.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “Don’t touch you? Really?”

  “Really. I mean it. Keep away from me.”

  “Hey.” His voice stung like antiseptic on a fresh wound.

  She winced then shook her head. “No.”

  With his arms still open, he kept her pinned with his gaze while he softened his plea. “Hey, listen to me.” He waited a minute. Nothing. “Are you listening?”

  No response.

  “Touching, holding…it’s what friends do when they’re upset. It’s called comforting each other. Comforting, Marlo. It’s a normal response. It’s what people do.”

  She shook her head, denying him.

  Who was he kidding? He might as well be speaking a foreign language. What did Marlo know about comfort?

  “I hurt too—consider that.” He backed off and leaned against the table, watching. She was composed now, her eyes dry and distant. Oh, hello, Square One. Fan
cy being back with you again.

  He released his despair with a deep sigh. “Fine.” He raised his arms, a gesture of surrender. “May I use your phone? The battery’s dead on mine.”

  “Looks like everything we need is dead this morning.” She pushed the phone across the counter at him and turned, heading to the bathroom.

  For the next thirty minutes, he played telephone tag with Butch, CRAR, and Animal Control, and emotional tag with Marlo—all without success. Marlo left the house and headed out to the kennels with a parting request that he be gone before she returned. No shouting, no more tears. Just that well-rehearsed, dispirited, shut-down person he thought he’d progressed some way toward repairing.

  Don’t let her disengage.

  He followed her outside to the path, took hold of her shirt sleeve down near the cuff, and held on with his thumb and forefinger so that she was connected rather than restrained. Fine beads of perspiration appeared on her forehead, and her body heat released a soft scent of laundry detergent from her shirt. Lavender.

  “Marlo, let me help you. Come on. Don’t discount what we’ve had together. You, me…we don’t deserve this.”

  She stood, her head bowed to the ground. “So many broken promises.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “Marlo…”

  “You promised me Justice would be okay.”

  “Yeah, I did, and I believed it.” He had to own that one.

  “All that I have to give the dogs is a promise. I promised Justice I’d fix him so he could have the life he deserved, with people who loved him and cared about his well-being. I promised him I’d be there until this transitional part of his life was resolved and that he could trust me. That from now on, his life would be good. Instead, I put him in a position that could only have one outcome. I broke my promise to him, because I was too much of a coward to deal with Barrett myself.”

  “Marlo, stop. We’ve got to work through this, because I’m not going to let you stick with that line of thinking. Right now, if you want me out of your life, I’ll deal with it. But you’re a friend, too, lover, and I’m not walking away, leaving you in this frame of mind.”

  “Stop messing with me, Adam. You’re undermining who I am, my very essence. Every reaction I have is wrong in your eyes. I no longer know how I’m supposed to feel if my instincts are so wrong. Please, leave me be.”

  “I’m trying to help you.”

  “You’re making it worse.”

  He released her shirt and watched as she walked away before turning to a low rock wall, giving it a good, hard kick. Fuck, his foot hurt. Nothing solved, but now he had something different to focus on. He went back to the house to gather his gear, because the last thing he was going to do was stick around and make things worse.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Marlo watched Adam’s car turn out onto the main road. He was doing exactly as she asked, so why did his no-fuss exit make her feel rejected? She pressed Justice’s collar to her nose one last time before placing it in the safe, alongside the DVDs. Damn those DVDs. They were the catalyst for the whole mess.

  Barrett probably didn’t realize that he’d won. He’d managed to trash her life and snuff that little flicker of happiness she’d allowed to spark within her. How fragile that joy had been, and how easily it was extinguished.

  Fala followed her into the office, and when she sat the dog’s grey muzzle soon warmed her knee. She reached down and scratched the dog’s ears. “Just the girls again. Those boys come along and occupy little pieces of our hearts then leave, taking those pieces with them. They’re heart-thieves, Fala.”

  The dog flopped to the floor. “I wouldn’t mind joining you down there, girl.”

  She looked up as Lulah appeared at the door. “Hey, you, how’s it going?”

  “Shit. Lulah, it’s all turning bad.”

  “I picked up your mail.” She dropped a variety of envelopes on her desk. “And I have muffins that probably don’t contain a single ingredient that would qualify for a heart-check mark, so they’re officially comforting. I made them this morning. I’ll get some coffee on the go, and you can talk ‘shit’ to me.”

  Marlo leaned back in her chair, her focus intent on her forefinger marking spirals on her desk. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

  “The dogs?”

  “The dogs, men, life. I’m wrung out. I’ve tried so hard, and it keeps coming along and kicking me in the butt. And today my ass feels so bruised I can barely sit.”

  Lulah passed her a mug of coffee and put a plate with a warmed muffin on her desk. “Eat. Food heals. I bet you haven’t had breakfast.”

  Marlo nodded.

  “It must be terrible for you without Justice. Is there any news about him?”

  “Not yet.” Now she was lying to Lulah, but if she told her about Justice, that would make it real. And she wouldn’t be able to hold it together for her.

  “Well, it’s no wonder you’re feeling so let down. There’s nothing worse than not knowing.”

  Apart from knowing, when the news is bad…and it sucks, big time. It sucks away your hope.

  She took a long pull of air as if despair was a wet sack in her chest.

  “I’m pleased you’ve got Adam to help you through this.”

  Nope. She’d managed to lose him, too. The wet sack became heavy with regret.

  The phone rang, and she let it switch through to voicemail. She stared at the muffin. “I’m sorry, Lulah, I can’t face food at the moment.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  She nodded. “Can you keep a handle on things for me today? I’ve got stuff to sort out. Text if you need me. I’ll keep my phone on voicemail.” She stood. “I’m going to take a run. I need to think. Will you shut up the office when you’re done?”

  Lulah nodded, concern registering in her tightened brow. “Sure, go and get sorted. I’m here if you need to talk, okay?”

  Marlo nodded and forced a smile, because they both knew that talking was unlikely. “I’ll take Fala back to the house and get changed, then probably head out toward the lakes. I’ll let you know when I’m back.”

  Lulah sighed. “I’ve got it. Take your time.”

  It took forty minutes to reach the lake. This was her first time back since she’d brought Adam out here. Didn’t that feel like another lifetime? She lay on the flat rock and let its heat warm the backs of her legs and seep through her running shorts and tank top. With closed eyes, she finally allowed herself to think about Justice.

  She’d never had the opportunity to bring him out here. Could he swim? Would he have been brave enough to take those steps into the lake, walking until he ran out of ground and trusting that his body’s natural buoyancy would keep him afloat?

  I haven’t been that brave, Justice. Maybe they could have done that together. The two of them, walking into the water.

  Trusting.

  She’d asked Justice to trust her, and he had. He’d stepped right up and believed in her, sticking with it when it became difficult. Those times when his every instinct told him to lash out and bite, he looked to her and trusted her enough to suppress that instinct and do as she’d asked. Eventually his thinking changed enough that his first instinct wasn’t attack, and his reactions became acceptable to society.

  She spread her hands over the gritty surface of the rock. The breeze had completely died away leaving her to the heated mercy of the sun. She turned a palm up, flexed her fingers and recalled the way her hand would glide over the satin finish of Justice’s coat.

  She’d convinced him there would be enough resources around that he wouldn’t go hungry, or cold, or thirsty. He trusted that each person he met wouldn’t mean that a swift kick in the head was the likely outcome of that meeting. That every time he faced another dog it didn’t mean a grueling fight to the death was imminent.

  All that work and careful counter-conditioning created a cautious belief that grew to total trust.

  But she’d let him down in the wor
st possible way. She took every new thing she’d asked him to believe in and effectively threw it in the trash. She’d walked into that room with a stranger, and his conditioning told him that the scene was cool, he was not to react. One small movement of her hand signaled his new belief system was flawed, that the person she’d brought with her was dangerous.

  It was time to attack.

  That signal was his death warrant.

  She’d shown Justice his instincts were flawed. She had taught him a new and better way to react, only to ask him to drop all that and go back to the wrong way of doing things.

  If he wouldn’t mind.

  Just once more.

  Adam was right. She couldn’t return to her old way of thinking or reacting. He’d shown her some happiness. He’d made her feel normal. Her own belief system was faulty. How could she help the dogs if she couldn’t help herself?

  As the sun beat down, she allowed her tears to tumble, unchecked. In their short time together, Justice taught her more than any other dog. Her tears were for Justice, and for the thirty-one other dogs that had been rescued from Richmond only to be let down in the worst possible way.

  In a rare moment of indulgence, she was unable to prevent a small slip of tears for herself. And for Adam. Because like Justice, they’d shared similar moments that were complete with contentment and pleasure.

  The chill of a shadow briefly blocked the sun. All she could manage was to scrub at her wet cheeks and shield her eyes before opening them. Adam stood over her, his face pinched with the strain of the past couple of days. Most of her wanted to reach out to him, but after what she’d said this morning, she knew she had to earn that right.

  Comfort him…it’s what friends do.

  She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, bracing herself for the inevitable questions, those little inquiries that chipped away at her emotions.

  He crouched on the rock, facing her and watched. The intent in those dark eyes speared her, making her chest tighten to capture the wound. For one brief moment, she let herself bask in the familiar feeling of his gaze stroking and calming her soul. Then, damn, it appeared the well hadn’t dried, because two more tears escaped.