Manhattan Sugar (From Manhattan Book 1)

by V. Theia

  What would I do if I stormed up to the eighth floor and dragged her out? She’d come along kicking and screaming maybe, she’d probably hate me just as much as she does her father and every other person who’s ever let her down.

  What the hell would I do if she was already in the arms of some little prick proving she is who she is?

  I raked both hands on my scalp again needing the jolt of pain to ground me, feeling every inch of the frustration slaking my nerve endings, trying to calm the turmoil coiling my lungs.

  A serpent of dread.

  I couldn’t unpack that thought, not yet.

  “I’ve never seen her like that.” Sena said rolling her lips in, eyes concerned.

  I twisted my gaze. The moment Sena came and told me India needed me, that her father was here, I couldn’t get to her fast enough. Still, I was too late to stop whatever train wreck India had going on in her head. “She hides a lot about how she feels.” I explained. “Seeing her father took the rug out from under her. That fucking guy.” I burst with temper.

  Acting like a doting father.

  I could still feel her hand shaking in mine. That fucking guy.

  Noah disappeared and returned a minute later holding a bottle of water for Sena and a scotch for me. He sat on my other side. I downed it in one. The burn brought no relief. Shaking my thoughts, I mentally walked through that entire conversation, it lasted all of four minutes.

  What were the chances India’s absentee father now married to my ex-girlfriend? Fucking unreal. The bubble of shock meant I didn’t take in every word. I’d love to see you sometime, Indy. Let Justin know his big sister. That fucking guy had no care he was walking all over India’s landmines and doing it with a thoughtless smile on his face.

  Go after her.

  Drag her out of that hotel room before she did something we both couldn’t come back from.

  “Why don’t we get out of here.” Suggested Noah. “You can come to our place.”

  Was he serious? There was no chance I was leaving.

  “You go on, get Sena home, she looks ready for her bed.” She’d yawned twice.

  “We can wait with you, Gray, it’s no problem.” She insisted.

  “I’m waiting here for her. Thanks for the offer, but she won’t want you guys to see her. I’ll get her to call you tomorrow, Sena.”

  If she was still with me tomorrow.

  Minutes later and after more back and forth that she should be at home in bed already, the pair left but not before Noah let me know to call if I needed anything.

  What I needed was upstairs in The Drake Hotel eighth floor destroying our love.

  GRAY

  I didn’t know how long I sat there in the bustling lobby with my brain ready to explode.

  Confident I could win her back to the good place again, but it was the waiting that was fucking excruciating.

  “Gray?”

  Pulling my head up I saw Dahlia nervously wringing her hands a few feet away. Once upon a time her ruby red hair, bee-stung lips and hour glass hips would have had my belly clenching with desire. With the same nervous mannerism as she had back then she flicked her hair over one shoulder and ran a hand under her chin.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to make sure you and—”

  “India. His daughter is called India. I’m guessing he hasn’t talked about her.” I almost snarled and she flinched.

  “Yes, of course. I knew that. I wanted to make sure you were both okay.”

  I narrowed my eyes and felt not a flicker of emotional reaction as I looked at the woman I thought I would spend my life with. Fate it seemed had a great fucking idea in making that not so.

  I felt nothing.

  I couldn’t see what attraction I first had for her. She was just a woman I knew once upon a different life.

  “You came back for that?”

  “We, eh. Our apartment is just around the corner.”

  A Fifth Avenue apartment. How she’d risen in economy, I thought. How fucking nice for them.

  But she was the last person I wanted to see.

  “Do you think,” another hair flick. “That India would come to dinner this weekend? John would love to see her.”

  Spiders crawled through my stomach.

  “Is that right? Where the fuck has he been for all these years? Certainly not trying to see the daughter he abandoned.”

  She blanched. “It wasn’t like that, Gray. You don’t know—”

  “I know enough. I know he doesn’t fucking deserve that girl. He didn’t even say he was fucking sorry. He left her to deal with everything, do you know that? A girl not even grown, and she was stuck with debts and looking after his grief-stricken wife. Did he mention that? India was drowning in sorrow and trapped with responsibilities no one should handle alone. Where the fuck was he then?”

  “So, was he. That’s why he left.”

  “Boo fucking hoo for dear John. My heart bleeds. You can leave now.”

  “Gray, please.”

  I stared at her and wondered how I’d spent five minutes with the delusional woman. If she could so easily explain away how a man deserted his family at the worst possible time and smile about it, then she was just as fucking evil as her husband.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Oh, I see now. India was the smoke screen. I sat back, glaring up at her.

  Pretty? Sure. But she was ash inside.

  As always Dahlia couldn’t see past the end of her own nose when it came to emotions. She was a toddler having a tantrum in an adult body.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Dahlia. It was a long time ago and I can honestly say I’ve never given it or you a second thought, you did me a favor in being the demanding, overbearing brat you were.”

  She flinched. Good. I wasn’t above hurting someone’s petty feelings with the mood I had churning inside.

  There was only one woman I gave a fuck about and it wasn’t the one in front of me.

  “If your husband wants to fix all his wrongs against my girl, then let him do it. We won’t be doing it around your fucking dinner table, you got it?”

  She nodded blankly. “I really am sorry, for what it’s worth. For how that happened back there. I didn’t know. I hope India will be okay. I’d love to get to know her under different circumstances.”

  Not probable. My girl would likely scratch Dahlia’s eyes out.

  And wasn’t that a sexy thought to keep for later.

  “You looked good together.”

  I responded instantly with every ounce of truth in me. “She’s my world, my whole fucking reason for existing. And I won’t let her father destroy her again, so you go back to your Fifth Avenue apartment you always hungered for, and you tell him that. India is no longer alone, she has me now, and I’ll rip him apart from the inside if he hurts one hair on her head.” Shooting the messenger felt aptly like nailing two birds with one stone too and I didn’t care if she liked my tone or not.

  I meant every word.

  “We all made mistakes, Gray. You included.”

  “Your husband has yet again broken my girl. You really think I could give a fuck about our mediocre relationship a handful of years ago? She’s all of everything. I see nothing but her. Goodbye, Dahlia.” I dismissed.

  Any other day I could have offered a kind word to show there were no hard feelings on my part. But I couldn’t bring myself to think of anything other than India and what she was feeling.

  Sighing, she turned on her 2015 Valentino pumps and strode back the way she came, garnering attention from eyes as she always used to.

  Only I didn’t care to watch. My eyes returned to the row of elevators.

  How long had it been now? Thirty-six minutes. It felt like a lifetime without her poking fingers into my ribcage to make me laugh or batting those baby-girl lashes at me.

  I’d coaxed my skittish girl into a relationship from day one and somewhere soon after she’d become my all.

&nb
sp; The beating to my heart and the rushing of my blood.

  She was every right decision I’d ever made.

  The shitstorm would have been enough to tip her over the edge, only, I’d seen the way she’d looked at the little boy and how it tore her up inside.

  No wonder she crawled so far back into her protective shell.

  One random text and she’d changed my life.

  Power, materialistic shit meant nothing if she wasn’t with me to squeal over a trip to my warehouse.

  I heeled a hand over my heart and inhaled.

  I’d noticed looks from the reception desk a few minutes ago. They probably thought I was a gigolo on the hunt for rich old ladies. India would get a kick out of that, my naughty girl. She thought nothing of grabbing my ass in public and making my body react to her.

  And react it did. Couldn’t help it. She was my dynamite.

  Fifty-seven.

  Every time the elevator doors slid open my heart stopped only to restart with disappointment when she wasn’t inside.

  Fifty-eight.

  A couple stepped out looking in love with arms wrapped around each other. Rubbing my hands, I was prepared to wait for as long as it took.

  My girl could run but there was no hiding what we’ve had together.

  Have.

  What we have together.

  My head down, hands clasped between my spread legs I could taste the defeat in the back of my throat as minutes ticked by.

  Couldn’t take my head to any kind of scenario of her being with someone else.

  Not yet. I just wanted to see she was okay.

  And as I heard the elevator ping open for the fifty-ninth time it was an effort to look up and face more disappointment.

  But then I saw taupe Tommy Hilfiger oxford tassel pumps on the most gorgeous pair of legs that led up to her pastel thigh length dress and my heart went into free fall over-pumping blood.

  Popping to my feet, the door pulled back to reveal my girl leaning against the elevator wall looking so dejected and broken I was across the lobby floor without thought, not wanting to leave her in that alone state for a second longer.

  She stepped out and saw me. Coming to a halt.

  Was that hope flickering on her sweet, pale face?

  In any case she had no fucking hope of getting rid of me.

  You didn’t discover heaven to then let it slip out of your hand.

  Worrying her lip, there was emotion in her eyes. She was a hot mess of untamed beauty and her effect on my heart was immediate.

  Could I tell if she’d had sex with someone else?

  I saw no clues. But then I wasn’t looking for that. Not when I stroked my eyes over her the same way my hands always explored her. With passion and love.

  My abdominal muscles tightened at the thought of her touching another person and right on the back of that was the startling truth; I didn’t care if she had.

  I just needed my girl to be okay.

  Anything else could be dealt with later.

  The love I felt for her superseded any emotional mistakes made in a time she wasn’t thinking clearly.

  She blinked, and her lower lip quivered, little pools of water gathered in her eyes. “Gray…”

  That was all I needed to step in and grab her up against my chest. I felt her shuddered inhale. It was terrible to witness her in the emotionally broken state as the same night we’d met again.

  Cautiously she let her arms curl around my waist as she buried her face in my shirt front and clutched on tight. I cupped the back of her head and just held on until my pulse returned to normal which should be any time between now and a decade.

  This girl had the power to tie me in knots and what fucking lovely knots they were. I lifted her head, cupped both sides of her face. I saw she was horrified she was crying when she hastily knocked my hands down and wiped at her face partially turning from me.

  Eyebrows fell in. I didn’t like that.

  “What are you doing here?”

  My pulse ticked in my ear. Irritation that she’d needed to ask why the fuck I was waiting. And so much love for my little lost girl who couldn’t depend on anyone but herself.

  Didn’t she know yet I would be anywhere she was?

  Didn’t she trust in my absolute love?

  “I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”

  She took a trembling breath, avoided my eyes.

  “India, look at me.” She wouldn’t.

  “You should go, Gray. I’ll find somewhere to stay tonight and come and get my things in the—”

  Hell. Fucking. No.

  I growled and told her more forcefully. “Look at me, baby-girl.”

  There were those staggering eyes.

  “You’ll stay somewhere else and take your things over my dead fucking body, do you understand?”

  It’s almost imperceptible the way her gaze roamed over me. Whatever her mouth was saying, her eyes couldn’t follow because I saw her longing. The same heat and want of earlier when she almost made us late because she needed a little something to make the boring business night bearable. If I’d known this night was going to go to shit I would have kept her fucked against the shower wall until tomorrow morning.

  I also saw love.

  Her inner sadness was not news to me. But I misunderstood the power it still held over her when I’d began to assume it had disappeared. Apart from her anxiety she tried to disguise, I wouldn’t stand for the look of loneliness in her eyes. Not when there was someone in this world begging her to let me love her.

  It was those rare moments of her carefree laughter where her soul shined brightest, and I’d do anything, say anything, to see it again.

  India Rivera wasn’t easy. But I never claimed to want easy.

  I wanted the fire of our love that burned our fucking bed night after night and left me with claw marks down my back.

  “Come on,” my hand offered out. She looked at it then back at me. Vulnerability marked her face, again she nibbled on her lip holding back her emotions. I’d break through again, that was for fucking sure.

  She was mine. I was hers. All the other stuff in the way right now was just bullshit. Lucky for us I was good at wading. “Let’s go home and get you into bed.”

  “Just like that?”

  I waited for her hand and when she huffed and slid it into mine I’d won the fucking world. I squeezed, and we started through the lobby. “Gray, wait. We can’t.”

  “We are.”

  “You’re crazy.” Her voice was small, unsure, and I hated it.

  That wasn’t my India. I stopped walking right in the heart of the Drake reception where anyone could overhear.

  Ask me if I gave a fuck.

  I tipped up her chin to ensure her beautiful eyes were unable to evade seeing what the hell was on my face.

  Infinite love.

  “We are going home to our bed, India. I don’t know about you but I’m over this whole fucking night and I want to hold you until we fall asleep then we’ll go out for breakfast in the morning.”

  Again, she swallowed and asked. “Just like that? You’re not gonna ask if I fucked anyone up there?”

  Hearing her saying it made bile fast track up into my windpipe.

  Unguarded emotion crossed her face and the punch of it wasn’t lost on me that my girl was in her own misery for decisions she’d made.

  “That’s what I thought.” She turned to leave but didn’t get as far as my hand when I latched her wrist and brought her right back into my chest.

  No matter what she said her body reacted to mine as much as mine hardened and made my heart jump. I dropped my head, lowered my voice. “If you fucked someone then you’ll tell me in your own time, baby-girl, and we’ll deal with it.” Her eyebrows screwed up in confusion and I had to smile. My tone like smoke. “But if you’re trying to goad me into being rough with you, I told you, ask me for what you want. Either way we’re going home to our bed.”

  Hands clasped we headed
toward the exit again. I’ll get us there if it fucking killed me. Her huffed compliance was music and I brought our hands up to kiss her knuckles.

  We were more than a fast hook-up.

  Love wasn’t always pretty and easy.

  It was a fight to keep it contained and to see it flourish.

  It took work and dedication and I wanted her until I was mad from the need in my heart.

  India was mine to take care of.

  To treat like the goddess every fucking person in her life overlooked.

  But I never have. I see her for who she is.

  And that woman is loved.

  Before closing the car door, I crouched down, her gaze came to me, my hand on her knee. “Doing okay? I envisioned a much better end to our night.” Peeling her out of her black thong to start and listening to her whimper-beg for an hour while I made her come.

  India nodded. Swallowed. Nodded a second time. “Take me home, Gray?”

  That’s all I needed to hear.

  I was taking my girl home.

  Where she belonged.

  The elevator car ride to our floor didn’t scare me as much as usual, it’s probably the first time in a moving death carriage that I wasn’t mentally counting down the seconds until it plummeted to the ground. How could I be scared when my whole insides were occupied with what I would say to Gray once we reached the apartment.

  The drive was quiet.

  And now I’m terrified of what to say.

  How to explain my shitty actions and try to justify what I did.

  I had no excuses. I’m fucking crazy.

  Gray hadn’t taken his eyes off me. Not for a second. He looked exhausted. Was that my doing? I still couldn’t believe he’d waited in the lobby for me.

  Who deserved a man who would do that?

  “I’m so sorry, Gray.”

  “Let’s get inside.”

  We said at the same time.

  “I don’t know why I fuck up. But I do. I’m sorry.”

  When I thought he wasn’t going to answer as we hovered half way between inside and out, he used a hand on the base of my back to usher me in where he locked the door, then turned his imposing self to look at me. “Apology accepted.” He said. Just like that.