by Lisa DeBells
I swiped my towel over my brow and looked at the elapsed time. I had been on there for thirty-five minutes. I slowed to a stop and chugged down a bottle of water. There would be enough time for some weights, then I’d head into the office for a shower and a meeting with the manager of Stone Fit.
Tonight I would take my girl out to dinner and for a spin at Allure, just to show her off. I was proud and wanted everyone to know Eden was mine. Man, this was good, having someone that I could trust and connect with. But this wasn’t just a connection; not for me anyway. It ran deeper than that. She had shown me to believe in me, in us. It was like we belonged to each other. With her, I was so optimistic and . . . happy. These weren’t the sorts of emotions I could usually relate to being with a woman, but fuck me sideways, it was happening, and I never, for eternity, could imagine not having Eden. I was burnt out and she’d fixed me. I wouldn’t give her up easily.
I showered quickly and dressed in my usual worn jeans, black T-shirt, and army boots. I ran the comb through my newly-trimmed hair, thanks to the haircut Eden had very reluctantly given me. I knew her soft heart would cave in eventually. This bad boy could be as sweet as honey on a stick. She’d buzz-cut the back and sides, leaving the top longer at my request. It blended well, and after cutting, it had turned out that my hair was actually darker at the roots. My girl said she loved it! Loved . . . it! I smiled at the handsome devil in the mirror and headed out to my office with a purposeful spring in my step. How could she not love me?
I walked in only to find Chase sitting in my office chair, feet up on my desk while he flicked casually through a fitness magazine. Only he could get away with this shit; what was mine was his, it was how life had always been for us. There was just one thing I didn’t share: my woman. Strangely, I was kinda pissed at the thought and scrunched my fists open and shut to get rid of the tension. Chase was my brother and I trusted him with my life. I could trust him with what was mine.
“Hey brother, what brings you here? Don’t you have Ts to cross and lawyers to contact?” Chase immediately stood up and walked around the desk. Usually he would have a fuck-you kinda smile on his face, and voice some witty response. Not today. He looked drawn and tired, dark shadows marred his face, as if he’d been up all night, and not because he was getting some tail. Worry lines creased his forehead and I instantly felt that black storm cloud break out and roll over me. Shit was not right.
“Hi Mitch, I er . . . fuck, I just don’t know where to start.” I walked to my desk chair and sunk into it like I had everything to lose. I was no longer treading water. Why did I feel like my life was about to go down the shit shute?
Chase looked as if he’d gotten dressed hastily, like he’d thrown on whatever he could get his hands on just to make a mad dash out of the house. He was wearing sweats; Chase to my knowledge did not own sweats, he lived and breathed suits. I was positive it was to do with a woman. He always loved hard.
“What the fuck kind of response is that? Why the hesitation? Is it a woman? Or the shop? What gives man?”
He sat down in the big leather chair opposite me, leaned his elbows on his knees and sat his head in his hands. He was a man deeply troubled. Unease gripped me at seeing my friend like this. I couldn’t decipher what level of serious this was.
“Jesus Christ, Chase, what the fuck is up with you?” I grip the edge of the desk, my knuckles white with pent up tension, I didn’t see anything on his face that would allay my fears.
He lifted his head and gazed at me sadly. His eyes were also tinged with fear. This had nothing to do with business; no, this was personal shit, and for every second he sat here not saying anything, I slipped further under that thunderstorm that threatened to break me down. My heartbeat throbbed madly in my chest.
“It’s Jessica.” My eyes widened in disbelief, two words, one name, a thousand memories flooding me like a tidal wave. Minutes ticked by like white noise; nothing mattered, yet everything was changing because of those two words. Why was Chase saying it? “She’s in town.”
Lightening struck like a hot piece of steel straight to the heart, I squeezed my eyes closed and pinched the bridge of my nose. I was being pummelled by a wash of emotions, similar to the ones that Eden had brought out in me yet worse, because the first time I let myself fall for a woman it had ended in a total shit fuck of events.
“What do you mean she’s back? That mind-fuck cannot walk back into our lives, my life. What does she want? More fucking money? I don’t want to deal with her mental problems, Chase. Why would she come back now if she wasn’t hungry for some more fucking dough?”
“Man, she’s totally fucked up this time.” Chase stood up, I watched as he ploughed a path back and forth, in his stylish sweats and Nike Free Runs, on my carpet.
“Where exactly is Jessica when you say she’s ‘here?’” A gnawing feeling that she was close by had me thinking I would need to borrow those runners. I took a deep breath and looked at Chase like he had lead me straight to hell. We had never held back shit, even when we’d disagreed.
“In the hall, waiting for you to let her—” I immediately stood up and leaned my hands on the desk, sucking in oxygen and not feeling like there is enough in the room. My alpha male was ready to kick my best friend’s head in. “Whoa buddy, listen?” Chase lifted his hands to try and calm me down. “She won’t be deterred that easily. Hear her out, she wouldn't be here if we weren’t her last resort.”
“Like fuck. Send her back to Crazy Town, I dodged that bullet years ago.”
“C’mon, man, there’s a lot of water under the bridge. It’s been five years.”
“Yeah, five years isn’t long enough. Get her the fuck out of my gym, Chase.” A knock sounded in the room. I would shit bricks if it were her. The last thing I needed was for an ex-girlfriend to turn up and ruin all that I’d been building with Eden. Jessica was more than an ex, where she went trouble ensued, this was not debatable.
“Who is it?” Chase and I demanded at the same time. We looked at each other. Normally this jinx would be funny, right now we were both uneasy, me disturbed and Chase looked as if she was about to chuck up breakfast.
The door swung open slowly. She was always impatient when wanting something. That was how she’d managed to snag me for a time. Persistence was the key, until I finally gave up and we dated for a few totally fucked-up months.
The open door framed a very exquisite and breathtaking sight. Five years of growing up and ageing had only added to Jessica’s beauty. Thick, dark, wavy hair fell around her shoulders, pulled back from her face by a white bandana. Her creamy skin had filled out sexily in the best places, bumps and curves all served to delight. Her brown eyes were warm and welcoming, inviting me back in. Dark lashes and eyes framed with smoky black liner gave her an exotic sexy appeal that had my jaw dropping and snapping shut just as quickly. One arm was filled with fine tattoo art: a colourful pin-up sailor girl, hearts and flowers, and other old-fashioned 1950s style ink.
Jessica was one sexy woman, wrapped up in a pair of too tight, ripped denim jeans, a black tank top and chunky platform heels.
“Mitchell Stone, as I fucking live and breathe.” She strutted further into the room like a blazing wildfire. Jessica was the type of self-destruction that I didn’t need or want, yet here she was, invading my life with nothing that interested me. “Thanks for the warm welcome. Aren’t you gonna say hi?”
And that’s when her beauty faded out and I saw the Jessica I knew and loathed. There was no spark or flame, just angry memories of her leaving me, for a higher paying meal ticket, when my money couldn’t buy her enough fancy shit. Well, now I could, and I wanted to count my millions in front of her.
I looked to Chase. His eyes were wide open and indulgent; after all, her beauty was timeless, Jessica had totally gotten better with age. Except for one thing; on closer perusing, her skin was washed out and chalky. Red splotches dotted her arm, the one without the tattoos. Her cheekbones jutted out slightly, as if she weren’t e
ating much. Up close she didn’t look great. But Jessica was not mine to worry about, not my problem.
“Sort it out, Chase. I’m out.” And with not so much as a word to her, I grabbed my shit and left my office and the problem that I knew was only going to gnaw at me. I needed to get as far as possible, away from her. What had brought Jessica back into my life? The woman had the personality of a pitt bull, she wouldn’t let me go until she got the thing she wanted. For the first time since meeting Eden, I was doubtful that I could be the man for her. I wasn’t the type of guy you took home for Thanksgiving, I was the guy that ate little girls for breakfast and spat them out just as quick.
The autumn chill whipped around my arms as I exited the building, my boots crunched over dry maple leaves that littered the sidewalk. A cold dread pumped into my veins and flowed into the chambers of my ever-broken heart. My hands shook by my sides, but there was one place, the only place, I could be right now. It was where my heart beat again, filled to the brim with shit that made me feel good. Whole. Eden. My everything. I had to sink my dick into her, hard, fast, in about a hundred ways.
The further away I walked I lament that nothing could stop the thundercloud that has opened up my past and threatened to met my future.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Eden
I had left the access key to my apartment downstairs for Mitchell. I was secretly hoping that he’d keep it instead of giving it back to me. What was I thinking? I just couldn’t keep my head on straight when he was near me. Since meeting him, I’ve been ecstatic and I don’t regret a single day.
I was turning over the blueberry pancake in the shallow fry pan—weird for lunch, I know, but I’d been craving weird stuff lately. Namely one green eyed, dirty mouthed man of my frigging fantasies, I chuckled to myself, feeling very satisfied. I had my stereo on to extremely loud, the way I needed it to be. Music was like my therapy; I was invincible when I listened to it. I hummed the tune and swayed my hips to JT’s 20/20 experience as it blasted from the speakers.
The elevator doors pinged to life. My stomach throbbed in anticipation of seeing my lover, the enigmatic and very sexual man that I had come to trust. My heart rate increased because I knew that when I looked at his eyes, they would have me dropping my spatula and biting my lip. I loved the way he affected me, like a bulldozer Mitchell had demolished all my walls, destroyed me only to build me, piece by piece back together again.
Heavy boots sounded on my tiled foyer. They were hurried, like he was on a mission to get to me. When he rounded the corner of the foyer that led into my kitchen, I started at the bottom and left the best for last.
Chunky black combat boots. Fitted dark denim jeans that outlined his thick muscled thighs. As per usual, the denim sat low on his hips. I could imagine the inverted V of his stomach, so defined and about as lickable as a Ben and Jerry’s ice-cream. My tongue darts out instinctively to swipe over my bottom lip. Today he was wearing a white V-neck T-shirt with a well-worn leather biker jacket. He was like a beautiful bat out of hell, and he was coming straight for me.
When I finally made my eyes meet his I was taken aback by his expression. His jaw was tight. Fury menaced his green eyes and had me gulping down any greeting. He was looking at me like I was going to be lunch and not these pancakes I was flipping. Alarm shot through me at the emotion that poured off him. I was scared that he was going to say something that I wouldn’t like, or maybe break up with me. Kill that thought woman.
My breathing hitched in my throat.
“Mitch, what’s going on . . .?” My words fell away on a whisper. He was like Hercules coming at me, all big and burly and beautiful. Mitchell’s version of the three Bs. I almost had to laugh, but this wasn’t the time for jokes. Something or someone had gotten to him.
He shucked the jacket off his arms and threw it on the dinner table as he past it. Fury emanated off him in waves. Four more Mitchell sized strides and he would be in front of me. I was mesmerized, my feet stuck in place, the pancake flipper held loosely in my grasp and eyes wide and searching.
When he did close that gap, he made a grab for my body and pulled me to him powerfully. I melted against his hips and allowed him to pull me with forceful hands. I relished the hardness of him up against me because this didn’t feel like a break up; actually, it felt the opposite. His prime manhood hard against my lower belly, oh my God, he was so fucking delicious.
I dropped my spatula somewhere because not touching him was like not breathing. He took my mouth next, like he’d been starved of it. He didn’t wait for me to part my lips, rather he took my tongue, his hot mouth clashing with mine. One of his hands snaked up my back to my hair that had been in a ponytail. He quickly pulled the elastic out and groaned when he freed my hair, running his fingers through it and gripping it tightly at my nape.
That groan, Holy hell, it did things to me, had me wanting Mitchell as desperately as he wanted me. I was starting to think this kiss held a lot more weight than him just missing me. I slid my hands under his T-shirt to feel the warm ripped muscles that were covered by his smooth skin. I scraped my nails up his abdomen, relishing how his low grumble at my ear caused my sex to ache.
He tore his lips away and pulled my head into his chest. Strong arms surrounded my body, held me snugly to him. His heart was beating as if he’d gone ten rounds with Tyson and his chest that cushioned my head was heaving for breath. I was actually scared as hell, because there was something gravely wrong with this scene.
“Mitch, you’re scaring me. Is everything OK?” I asked timidly. I didn’t want to protect my beastly strong lion.
He didn’t speak right away. Instead he took deep breaths, and just ran his arms and hands all over my back, petting my hair, my waist, like he wanted to make sure I was really here.
Eventually he spoke softly, calmly. “Yeah, I just needed that.” He pulled back from me so that we were looking at each other. A slight amount of calm had entered his face. It wasn’t enough for me not to worry.
“How hungry are you Eden?” Intense dark had taken over his eyes, and I gulped in response, my thighs buzzing deliciously because I didn’t want food—I wanted Mitchell.
“Oh, I’m ravenous . . . but not for pancakes.” That was all it took for him to lift me up. He cradled me under my bottom with his large hands and I wrapped my legs about his waist. We were on eye level and my heart was imploding in my chest. He was like a caged beast, wild eyes, grabbing hands—fuck, his whole body was banking on some kind of release. This was no doubt why he had a punching bag—not that I was afraid he would hurt me. Right now I was his release, and I would take it.
I caught my hands in his shortened hair and connected our mouths, sucking and biting on his full bottom lip. I swallowed his moan with my mouth, teasing his tongue with mine. I was captivated; I wanted to be Mitchell’s everything. The one that could set him free of his own demons.
He leaned me up against the wall in the hallway, pinning me with his hips. My thighs were still lazily encased around him as I clung to his torso. Pulling his face back from our connected lips, Mitch tugged on a handful of my hair. It didn’t hurt, but had me riveted on his eyes. Dear God, if there was one—obviously there was, Mitchell was his finest work.
“Mitch, what is it? Talk to me.” He flicked his indecisive gaze from my lips and back to my eyes.
“Shhhh.” He whispered against my lips. He caressed my face whisper soft with his thumbs, kissing me gently, nibbling kisses on my lips and I knew I was done for. I was falling for him, hard. I think this is love. I kissed him back deeper, sucking on his tongue, this feeling of love was bursting in my chest.
He walked us into my bedroom. It was bright in the middle of the day, the crystal chandelier that hung over my bed cast colorful prisms of light on my white walls. He put me down on my bed and I knelt before him. My hands weren’t co-operating with my brain; I couldn’t let go.
“It’s OK, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” Mitchell’s haunted expression kille
d me somewhere deep in my soul. Did he know that I could feel him? Was this part of our connection that we’d had from the beginning?
“Something’s up with you, I can feel it.”
“Yeah, had a really shitty day. Thats all.” He ran his hand over his stubbly beard. “Seeing you . . .” He paused. “Just being here, makes it fade to fucking dust, Eden. Do you understand what you do to me, baby?" He used his thumbs to run over my cheeks. "You make the pain, the fucked up memories, fade out.”
Oh fucking my. I felt my face flush with Mitchell’s honesty. Like he was cutting out a piece of his heart with each word and handing it to me on a silver platter. I just wanted to protect him and make him mine, convince him that there was a small part of me that he’d taken, of my heart, with his words, and I will never get it back. It was lost to him. I was lost in him, his eyes, green and dangerously dark today, but I knew he would never use whatever was in him, his anger, to hurt me.
He reached for my body again, pulling my legs so that my knees were hanging off the edge of my bed. He unbuttoned my white skinny jeans and peeled them agonizingly slowly down my legs. I popped my shirt buttons eagerly whilst watching his face for any reaction. I'm not disappointed; he's gaze was fiery and didn’t match the gentleness of his touch. Whatever was on his mind before is gone; now it's just him and I and our connection.
I love watching him watch me. It's oddly sexual, his eyes blazed with heat and lightning, igniting that flame in me. I may have pre-empted this outcome by not wearing a bra; my bad.
"No bra." He raised a quizzical brow at me. I smiled coyly and a shrugged my shoulder. “So fucking hungry for my woman.”
Oh shit, okay, I was lunch. Yesss, I mentally fist pumped the air. I reminded myself to breathe. Mitchell lowered his head, never breaking eye contact with me and licked a steamy line down my body. I tilted my hips up slightly in silent request. I needed his tongue on me. And then he was, his hot breath teasing me through my lace panties. I almost detonated right then watching him pull his tongue over his full bottom lip and then his top one.