Truth About Tequila (Surviving Absolution #3)

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Truth About Tequila (Surviving Absolution #3) Page 17

by Nikki Belaire


  Chapter 20

  RJ’s triumphant smirk fades once the elevator doors open, granting them access to the top floor. Afraid even more than she is to face Max. Yet, he steps forward, his face a few inches from his screen, his fingers flying over the keyboard. After a few more taps, a slight click of the lock echoes in the corridor before the lights jump from red to green. She lets out a deep breath. They’re in. Whether they want to be or not.

  “If you bring her in here RJ, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  His body trembles next to her from the fury burning in Max’s threat. Poor kid’s a gadget geek, not a hit man. Probably fucking pees his pants anytime he sees a gun.

  “I—I don’t want to leave you here like this. Do you want me to stay and protect you?”

  As much as her terror engulfs her, a small smile crosses her lips. What the fuck is he going to do against Max? “It’s fine. He won’t hurt me. You can leave.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Relief fills his shaky voice. Already stepping back into the hallway, his laptop clutched against his chest like a shield, before she can even answer. “Yes, just go.”

  Pushing the door shut behind her, she steps farther into the hotel room. Only silence welcomes her in the darkness. Fine, fuck him. She’s pissed too.

  In the dim light, she can barely make out the silhouette of his huge body filling an overstuffed chair. A small table lamp flickers on from her flipping the wall switch, and her stomach twists even more. His head lolls on the back of the stiff beige cushion. An almost empty bottle rests in his left hand, his gun only a few inches from his right. Ready to battle his enemies. Including the demons fighting inside him tonight.

  She kneels down in front of him, pushing his legs apart and sliding between them. Maybe a good sign, he doesn’t try and stop her. Her heart drops. Or he doesn’t care enough to react. “Are you okay?”

  His chin tips down at her whisper, head bobbing from the alcohol flowing through him. He scans her face, heavy lids shuttering his squinting eyes as if to see who’s really there. Rough fingers rub across her cheek and cup the back of her head, jerking her forward, her face a few inches from his. Sloppy and harsh from the booze controlling his limbs. “Why do you have to be so fucking beautiful?”

  A tremor twirls through her from his desperate tone. Rare and unfamiliar from the man who’s always in charge. All his vulnerability exposed, his controlled façade crumbling. “Why do you have to be so fucking stupid?”

  An enormous laugh, deep from his belly, bursts out of his mouth, and he shakes his head before softening his grasp on her. “God, I fucking love you.”

  Her pulse races under her skin at his drunken admission. Tequila may slur the words, but alcohol can't disguise the clarity of his emotions. She’s waited too fucking long for him to admit the truth. No matter how much she's suffered, she can't hold back from trying to rebuild their relationship. “I love you too.”

  “No.” Defiance burns in his stare, all the humor gone. His hand falls back to his knee. “You need to go home to your husband.”

  Low blow. He wants to play dirty? Fine. Fucking bring it. He’ll never piss her off enough to make her leave. No matter how hard he tries. “And, you need a fucking smack. My ex-husband is with his new girlfriend. He’s happy, just like he deserves to be.”

  His head tilts, seemingly surprised at her proclamation. “Yeah, he signed the papers when you were in Greece, and you never gave me the chance to tell you – because, oh that’s right – you fucking left me when I was unconscious in the hospital.”

  Now it’s her turn to be cruel. Shame squeezes her tense muscles from the pain darkening his expression, but she has to get through to him. Make him understand how misguided he is. How unnecessary his guilt is for being honest with her and himself.

  His gaze moves from her to his bottle. Before the rim reaches his lips, she swipes the container from his hand and takes her own long drink. Finishing off the last of the golden liquor, she welcomes the burn speeding from her throat to her belly. It’s going to be a long fucking night, and she needs all the reinforcement she can get. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got? You’ve put me through hell all this time over a man I never loved who’s moved on with someone else.”

  All of her suppressed anger pours out, more vehement than she intended or expected. But, God damn, he hurt her so much. He’s fucking hurting too, and they’re both dying inside because of it.

  They have to find a way to get past this.

  “It’s really over?”

  Her shoulders droop down, exhaustion taking its toll on her tense body. Maybe he’ll finally believe her. “Yes, just like it has been for the past year. Nothing’s changed.”

  He watches her, disbelief furrowing his brow. An argument brews under the surface. At least it’s something. Anything to keep him talking. To keep him from shutting her out again.

  “But your family. Your mom wants—“

  “Richard accepts it, even if my parents don’t.”

  “I left so you could work it out. I thought you would reconcile if I wasn’t there.”

  “That was never going to happen.” She speaks slowly, trying to let the words sink into his fucking stubborn head. “He and I spent every single day with each other for three months, and we never got back together. We were never, ever, going to get back together. No matter what.”

  The slow shake of his head proves he remains unconvinced, sparking her fury again. "God damn it! Why won't you believe me?"

  “You say you love me here…” His huge hand cups her face, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. Warmth flows through her from his intimate touch. That she’s missed for so fucking long. Her body leans into him of its own accord. Regardless of the anger brewing between them, the ferocity of her irritation cannot douse her craving for him. Long fingers trail down her neck and tap against her pounding heart. “…but you don’t mean it in here.”

  The frown on his forehead grows as deep as her confusion. “That's not true.”

  “I love you, but you never let me in." His words mumble but his caress is certain, confident strokes over her shoulders and down her arms, tugging her closer. "You always hold back.”

  “No I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do. I know you’re hiding something from me.” His fingers thread through her hair as the grip of his other hand tightens around her waist. His lips drag down her throat, lighting a fire deep in her body for him to consume her. Fucking stealing her breath from his hardness pressing into her abdomen. Loving her despite his anguish. “If it’s not because of Richard, what is it? Why won’t you let me love you?”

  “No.” She jerks out of his embrace and falls back on her heels. Needing to break his hold on her both physically and emotionally. Not let her desire to be with him force her to face the reality of what keeps them apart. She came here to save him, not confess her doubts too. “You’re wrong.”

  “Just fucking tell me.” A chill washes over her from the steel in his voice, dangerously low, offering no opportunity to evade his inquisition. He won’t let her get away without telling him. “Say it, G.”

  She wraps her trembling arms around herself yet comfort evades her. All the times she told herself it didn’t matter. That they would never be anything more than fuck buddies. That he would never mean anything to her so he wouldn’t know what they were going to miss out on. Nothing but lies. To him and herself. “I had complications…” She swallows down the lump. She will not fucking cry. “...with Lily. There was too much damage. I can’t have any more children.”

  The first time she’s uttered the words out loud. No one else knows. Not Richard. Not her mother. Not her father. The line on the family tree ends with her. Divorced. Childless. Alone.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Sympathy sobers him up quickly. The slur gone from his voice.

  “Me too.” Fuck it. Pushing herself up from the floor, she stands him front of him. Involuntary tremors from the realization this is probably
the end. But at least he'll know why. “The life you want, everything you deserve, isn’t possible with me.”

  “What I want is you.”

  Her gaze remains on the swirly patterned carpet, too scared to look at his expression. To see the deceit in his face as he tries to protect her from his disappointment. Dishonest with himself as much as with her. “I saw how good you were with Gabby and Henry. How protective you are with Shae and the baby.” Now she really is crying and can’t fucking stop. “You’re going to be such a wonderful father. You need someone who can give you that. I can’t let you miss out on having a family because of me.”

  She swipes at the wetness burning her cheeks. Hating herself for being so weak and emotional. Turning into one of those women who cry over stupid little things. Except this time, it’s important. And huge. And everything she lost before it could even be hers.

  “Do you know what I thought when I found out Shae was pregnant?"

  She shakes her head at his soft tone, barely above a whisper. The sobs burning in her throat too much to answer.

  "It wasn't ‘Good for them.’ or ‘Congratulations to my best friends.’ No, I was too much of a selfish dick to think that. I couldn't be excited for them because I was too fucking worried how I was going to keep this child safe. How I had nine months to figure out who I can trust enough to keep Nick’s head from exploding. How Shae would never forgive me if I let something happen to her baby.” A weary sigh ruffles the top of her head. “I'm nothing but a fucking asshole.”

  The stabbing in her chest grows stronger. Another worry to add to his stress she never really thought about. Another reason she loves him so much. He sacrifices his own happiness for the people he loves. “No, you're realistic."

  He pushes up, towering over her, intimidating her with his ability to control her heart so easily. But, the finger curling under her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his, is the gentlest he’s ever touched her. “So, if you had my child, I would be happier than you could ever imagine. But, if not, I can accept it. Because this world…”

  A bitter smile crosses his lips, and he shakes his head. “If I don’t ever have kids of my own, then they’ll never have to suffer because of me. Or be used as pawns to try and control me or get revenge. Because if anything ever happened to them or to you, I would never recover.”

  “I understand. When you were missing, the only thing keeping me going was knowing Nick was doing everything he could to find you. I knew he was too stubborn to give up." Despite her uncertainty, she can't hold back from touching him any longer. Her fingers curl around his hand on her jaw. Needing to comfort him as much as herself. Hoping to revive their connection. "I barely survived after Lily. I couldn’t take losing you too.”

  Only the sound of his heavy breathing fills the room. His body responding to her touch and her words. The barrier between them breaking, along with her heart from what she’s about to do. But she has to know his true feelings before she can give herself to him completely. "And when you were at your sister's, I was so fucking heartbroken, I wondered how I could go on. How I could survive without you. I told myself to be patient. That you would come back. And you finally did…but not for me."

  His face flushes, fire burning in his eyes from her accusation. "I―"

  "Shut up." His jaw clenches at her severity, but his mouth closes. For too long she told herself she could accept being second. That having half his heart was enough for her to be happy. But not anymore. Not after everything she's been through. “You issued your ultimatum. Now it’s my turn.”

  She wants him. All of him. And, she refuses to fucking share. "You chased me for months, always thinking I was never really yours, while all the time I worried the same thing about you. So even though you almost fucking destroyed me, I love you enough to chase you this time. Now it's just you and me. And you have to decide. Yes or no. We're doing this, or we're walking away because I can’t take it anymore."

  Unable to stop from being a bitch. From exposing all the ambiguity of their entire relationship in this moment. But at least they’re finally going to be fucking honest with each other. "You told me to choose, and I did. That night on the island, even though you refused to hear it. So I'll say it one more time.” She fists his shirt, pulling him down to her. Needing him to see the absolute certainty in her eyes. “I pick you."

  The quiver in her voice reveals her fear but she refuses to back down. Never flinching from his piercing gaze. "Your turn. Who do you want?"

  *****

  His chuckle flames the rage in her again. Crimson creeps up her cheeks as her expression hardens. But damn, he can’t help but laugh that this tiny woman, who he loves more than he ever thought possible, has him by the shirt and the balls. Fighting for them with all her strength when no argument is necessary. The answer has been clear from the beginning.

  “You think this is fucking funny?”

  “No. I think you’re fucking scary and I don’t want you to kick my ass.”

  Her eyebrows dip lower, frustration lining her forehead. “Stop it. You have to--”

  His humor dies from the doubt darkening her eyes. Vulnerability peeks through her tough veneer, and the fabric around his neck loosens from her hand falling away. Fuck that. He’ll be damned if he lets her give up on him. Grabbing her tiny wrist, he holds her in place. “I may be drunk but I’ve always known who I wanted.”

  She tries to twist away and his grip tightens, not enough to hurt but so she knows he’s fucking serious. "You. It's always been you."

  Her body remains taut, still battling against accepting his declaration. “You better be fucking sure. Because I’m not sweet. Or wholesome. Or some fucking angel who’s always pure and good and perfect. I will never be any of those things.”

  Her chest heaves, breathless with her assertions, her body trembling under his fingers. Now it’s his turn to prove himself and his feelings. “You done?

  Defiance. The only emotion reigning across her fucking gorgeous face, her chin jutting up to challenge him. Fucking sexier than hell when she gets worked up. Making it harder than fuck to concentrate when all he wants to do is bend her over the sofa and bury himself inside her. “Then you better listen closely because this is the last fucking time we're going to discuss this."

  Her eyes widen from him talking smack. An empty threat but at least he has her full attention. And hopefully her compliance. "I know exactly who the fuck you are. You’re brave and generous and creative. You can make me laugh harder than anyone else I know. And, as much as you hate for anyone to know it, you have an enormous heart that would make you give up everything you have – even your life – for the people you love.” His fingers glide upward to entwine their hands and he leans closer to her. “So don’t think for even a fucking second, I don’t know who you are, or that you're not exactly who I want.”

  One last scan of his face before her petite frame relaxes and a sweet smile graces her lips. She reaches for him again with her free hand. "I believe you."

  "Good. Because as much as I want to spend the rest of my life listening to your smart ass mouth busting my chops and then having a hell of a good time making up, we're not going to argue about this ever again. This is it. We're together and no one else is going to get in the fucking way."

  Before she can respond, he sweeps her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and delving between her lips. The fiery taste of tequila on her tongue matches the burn in his aching dick. Too fucking long since he’s held her, and he’s never letting her go again.

  Grasping the hem of her shirt, he yanks the fabric over her head. Demanding to feel her bare skin under his fingers. Fire twists around his throbbing muscles from her cringe, and he stills. “Are you okay?”

  She nods, her arms uncoiling from his neck and one hand flying to her side. Delicate fingers stroke across her torso, curling over her belly button. Hiding the scars that God damn fucking bastard left her with.

  “I’m fine.”

  The fuck she is. He’ll
take a thousand fucking cold showers before he causes her anymore pain. Her head droops to his shoulder, soft breath tickling his blazing skin. He covers her curved hand with his, and carries her to the bed. She doesn't release him when he pushes back the thick, white comforter and lays her on the cool sheets.

  "Stay with me."

  Shame pierces his gut at her uncertainty. Like he'd fucking ever leave her again. That he gives a fuck her body isn’t perfect. "I'm not going anywhere."

  Her fingers grip his triceps until he slides in next to her, draping his leg over hers and covering them with the blankets. Apparently it's not close enough. She curls against him, her mouth finding his as her fingernails scrape his stomach pushing up his shirt.

  “Off.”

  Gladly. He tips back just enough to tug the tee over his head and toss it on the floor. Ready to slide off her satiny black bra, and not allow any space between them. Huge cocoa eyes meet his.

  “What did you do?”

  So caught up in the ecstasy of being with her again, he’d forgotten. Didn’t remember the mark on his skin forever connecting her to him. Lava races through his body burning straight to his groin at her red fingernail tracing the curling ink. Feathery strokes brush over each muscle and rib to his pec, involuntarily flexing under her touch. Slowly building up an inferno he can’t release. “You’ve got to stop G, or I’m going to fucking explode on your legs.”

  Her gaze remains on their coupled hands resting against the four letters. “Why?”

  “I wanted you with me even if we couldn’t be together.” He sounds like a fucking pussy. But, after giving her up, he still couldn’t let go of her in his mind or his heart. She was always his. He rubs her skirt covering the flower at her hip. “You had Lily, and I had you.”

  “Yes, you have me.”

  A breathless whisper before soft kisses follow her fingertips on his blazing chest, vibrating under silky lips. His eyes sink shut from her fumbling with his belt, yanking and shoving at the same time, frantic to unbuckle the leather strap. Fucking shit. Denying her is going to fucking kill both of them. "We can't. I don't want to hurt you."

 

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