Pretty Ugly (Addicted Hearts Book 2)

by Jane Anthony

  “When you touched yourself, did you come pretending it was my hands on your body?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t make me wait anymore, Kat. Let me have you.”

  “What if someone comes in?”

  I slide my hand down her chest and slip it between our bodies to cup her mound. She presses her hands on either side of my head, leaning her body forward to keep from putting her full weight on me. “They’ll see two people whose devotion is so profound, nothing can keep them apart.”

  The second I graze her sweet little cunt, she groans. Two digits slide in right down to the knuckle. I imagine them glistening from her arousal as I pump them slow and deep. “We may not have said the vows, but in my heart, you’re already my wife.”

  Her eyes jam shut as my fingers dip in and out, each time drawing the wetness up to circle her clit. “Chase, this is so reckless,” she whines, her head lolling to the side.

  “Love is reckless, Kat.”

  She looks at me with blazing eyes full of hunger. My cock twitches as my fingertips caress the spongy inner walls of her body. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Concern twirls with the want twisting in her dark gaze. No one has ever cared about me as much as she has. Very few people get to say they found their soul mate at twenty-eight. She’s my other half. The part of me that exists outside of my body but makes me whole nonetheless.

  “Nothing hurts more than being this close and not being able to have you.”

  The quivering tremble of an oncoming orgasm builds up inside her, but I don’t want to waste it. After four long weeks, I need to feel it skin to skin, buried deep inside her as she shatters around me.

  I tear my fingers away and slip them into my mouth. The tangy citrus taste that’s Kat’s and Kat’s alone turns my cock to granite. The confines of the twin-size mattress make it impossible to take her bottoms off. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Instead, I push them aside as she uses the bed guards as leverage to angle her body over mine. The sweltering heat swallowing me whole knocks the air from my lungs. The heels of her palms dig into the rails as her body rolls in a tight circle. I lie back, resting my hands on her swiveling hips, watching her ride with unbridled passion.

  A moan catapults from her lips. Her head falls back, bat-winged lashes fluttering closed. I love this woman, but it’s so much more than that. The need I have for her is primal. Every muted sound, each ragged breath. It’s unlike anything else in the world. It’s an obsession.

  Pulling her against me, I crush our lips together, silencing her moans with my mouth. Her sweet flavor still sits on my tongue. I know she tastes it on my lips, licks at it as if she’s starving.

  I’m numb, yet every nerve in my body trembles with a vibrating frequency that makes me feel as if I’m taking flight. The room spins around me in a fuzzy haze of drugs and lust. I force myself to stay in this moment, to feel her skin under my hands and the warmth of her body consuming every inch of me.

  Outside the door, the hospital continues to bustle. Anyone could barge in at this very moment, but the thrill of getting caught only ignites the naughty need eating away at me. This isn't how I pictured our night to go, but here we are, nonetheless, giving in to the need that thunders around us day in and day out.

  “I don’t know how much longer I can last. Come for me, Kat.” I flick my thumb over the hardened peak rising through the thin fabric of her shirt. It works like a button, igniting the fire blazing through her core. Tremors ripple through her. My head digs into the pillow, my fingers kneading the soft flesh of her ass, grinding her against me. Her hushed whimpers grow shrill, her muscles tightening like a fist. Pleasure lodges the words in her chest, but I know them all too well. I say them for her as we both crumble to dust. “Se agapó, Kat. Gia pánta.”

  “Forever, Chase. Forever,” she pants, dropping her head to my chest. My fingers still tangled in the thick blanket of fallen hair that’s found its way out of her ponytail. I can’t seem to let her go. Not yet. Not when I feel as though I just got her back.

  “Almost there!” Kat meanders behind me while I swing on crutches to our front door, the dogs barking and scuffling as we approach. Each time my good leg makes contact with the concrete, the pill bottle in my pocket rattles the tiniest bit. A prescription for Oxycontin that I’m sure I won’t take yet had filled anyway just in case.

  With the keys dangling from her fingers, she slips in front of me and unlocks the door, sliding the animals away with her foot and yelling for them to go lie down. They trot away as I hobble in and plop down on the sofa.

  “It’s good to be home.” I sigh, stretching my left leg across the cushions. It sinks into the plush fabric as I settle into the corner and call Zeus over with a double kiss noise. With his head hung low, he trots over. “It’s okay, boy. I know it wasn’t your fault.” Tufts of fur float off his coat and frolic in the rays of California sun beaming through the French doors out back. He lifts his snout, nosing my chin with a whimper. “Yeah, you’re a good boy.”

  “Fuckin’ dog.” Kat sticks her tongue out at him when his coffee gaze quirks her way, and then she disappears into the bedroom, I assume to stash her gown in the closet. If all went according to plan, we’d be in a hotel right now. Probably sitting by the pool, a couple of virgin daiquiris melting in our hands. I really fucked up this time.

  “Go lay down, boy!” Zeus turns and carries out my order, the jingling of his tags the only sound until Kat comes back.

  “You want something to eat? I can run down to the bodega on the corner and get you one of those chicken on a stick things you like.”

  “You don’t have to nursemaid me, Kat. I’m fine.”

  “Does that mean no sponge bath?” She giggles. I’ve always loved the sound of her laughter. It’s like rain trickling on metal. A sweet, melodic tune that plays directly to my soul with each delicate beat.

  “Maybe later,” I reply, biting the slim ring in my lip between my teeth. “Come sit with me.”

  “All right. I’m just gonna call Athena and let her know we’re home. She worries, ya know.”

  I grab the remote with a nod, jamming the on button with my thumb. The television springs to life, blaring through the stagnant quiet of the living room. There’s nothing on, which is fine since I’m not really interested in watching TV right now, anyway. I just need something to take my mind off my situation, but the throbbing in my leg is a constant reminder of what an idiot I am. This really does suck. All around. Kat’s been incredible through this, despite my recklessness. As soon as I’m better, I’m going to make it up to her. She deserves better than this. A broken dude who can’t even find a real job to take care of her.

  Another breezy chortle chimes from the other room where Kat’s on the phone with her cousin. My gaze settles on the screen ahead, my knuckle absentmindedly stroking the butterfly tattoo on my neck, the same one inked over Kat’s heart. I’d love to say I got it as a result of some sort of spiritual awakening. That it’s somehow symbolic of my transformation from a junky to an upstanding citizen of the world, but that’s not the case. The truth is, it means nothing. A stupid thing I had done to my body during a string of prior regrets, but it’s a part of who I am. The fucked-up guy who lives inside this colorful skin who works so hard to hold it together.

  I’ve done a pretty good job, I’d say. I pulled myself from death’s icy grip, swam through a river of shit, and came out clean on the other side. I’m a survivor. I beat the odds, and I can do it again.

  That hopeful thought is the last one on my mind before blind agony wakes me from a dead sleep.

  The entire room is cloaked in black. With tear-stinging torture, I push myself to sit, my damp eyes adjusting to the dark enough to see a Poland Spring and a bottle of Advil set on the table next to me. I must have passed out in front of the television, and Kat went on to bed.

  Pounding pain radiates up the left side of my body, and my shirt is drenched in sweat. Trying my best not to cry out, I shift my leg, making t
he bottle still hidden in my pocket rattle against my thigh. The thin slice of silver moonlight backlights the orange bottle as I lift it to my face. Oxycontin 10 mg once orally every 12 hours.

  A raging storm whirls through my gut, but I tear at the cap with trembling hands, the tablets jumping as I finally break through the childproof barrier. One pill to take the edge off. That’s all I’ll need.

  Chapter 5

  Kat

  Despite my valiant attempts to get some rest, I spent most of the night tossing and turning, unable to turn my mind off. Chase used to tell me he hated sleeping alone. I never understood that. I loved my bed. I’d sleep in the center, stretched across the whole mattress. That was then. This is now. And I can’t sleep without him next to me. Yet when I awake to the morning sun, I’m surprised to find him there sleeping like a log.

  I’m not sure how long I lie there watching him, reveling in all the tiny parts that make him him. Long lashes cast tiny shadows along his cheekbones leading to the straight slope of his nose. A darkened swatch of day-old growth covers his chin. I want to reach out and touch it, run my fingers over his chiseled jawline and trace the lines of his bow tie lips. Lips I came so close to never kissing again. With each slow rise and fall of his chest, I’m thankful. If I’d lost him, I’d have lost myself, so I don’t even want to think about it.

  I snuggle in closer, breathing in his masculine scent. Even after being in a hospital bed for so many hours, he still smells like home. The fragrance of sandalwood, musk, and summer surrounds me like a warm breeze floating off the water—open, airy, fresh, and clean.

  A deep rumble vibrates his chest. I feel it under my cheek moments before his sinewy arm wraps around my back. “Chase?” I whisper, testing to see if he’s truly awake or merely holding me in his sleep.

  The inked-up fingers on his free hand reach across his body and tangle in my hair, cupping the side of my head as he grumbles again. “Morning, babe,” he mutters after a bit.

  “You feeling okay?”

  “Yeah.” He turns his head to yawn, then comes right back to the same spot. “Tired.”

  “Go back to sleep, baby,” I tell him, reaching up to touch his face before detangling myself from his embrace. His arms fall dead at his sides as if he was never really awake at all.

  Quietly, I pad across the room and let myself out, closing the door with a soft click. According to my giagiá, the more rest he gets, the faster he’ll heal. I actually don’t even know if that’s true, but it sounds good, so I’ll go with it. She’s coming on a million years old, after all.

  Steam curls from the stream of coffee falling into my mug. I watch the brew fill to the top, then sputter to a stop just before spilling over the edge, the deep aroma filling the kitchen and already giving me a much-needed burst of energy. With my cup and my trusty pack of Marlboro Lights, I whistle to the dogs and head for the back door. They rocket into the yard, chasing after one another in a haphazard pattern over the only large patch of grass we have in our otherwise tiny backyard.

  The first cigarette of the day is like returning home after a long trip. I pull the sweet smoke into my lungs and hold it there before letting it twirl into the clouds above. It’s a slow, senseless death, I know, but Chase was right all those years ago. Some vices are harder to give up than others.

  I suck on my smoke and sip my coffee as Zeus and Aphrodite bound around the yard, an unlikely couple, yet so in love nonetheless. Sort of like Chase and me. He’s so far from my type—my opposite in every way—yet completely perfect for me. He absorbs my crazy and fills the tiny spaces with a level of livable sanity in this insane world we inhabit. I’m better because of him.

  Chase appears at the back door, the orange filter of a Marlboro Red clutched between his teeth. “I thought you were sleeping?” I ask, holding up my cigarette to monkey fuck his. He shrugs, the cherry glowing brightly against his dark face, but says nothing in response. “Chase?” I say with a sarcastic wave in front of his face.

  “I’m not awake yet,” he grumbles, taking a drag. The white stick hangs from his lips while he exhales out the other side, a little trick I’ve seen him do hundreds of times. Chase can smoke a whole cigarette without ever using his hands. One of the many remarkable talents he can achieve with his only his mouth.

  We sit side by side on plastic lawn chairs, finishing our smokes before I speak up again. “You want some breakfast? I can make you something.”

  “No. I feel like shit. I’m going back to bed.” He stands, flicking the smoldering butt into the yard and hobbles through the door on crutch-free legs. The doctor said he should be able to start walking freely, but a bubble of anxiety bursts in my gut watching him struggle to gain his bearings. It kills me to see him in pain like this. I want to jump up and help him, but I know he’s too proud to let me know how badly he’s really hurting.

  Whistling for the dogs, I follow in after him, surprised to find him already gone. I move toward the bedroom and hover in the doorway. Chase is sprawled out on top of the bed; the pillow clutched over his face. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Close the blinds. It’s too fuckin’ bright in here.” At least, I think that’s what he says. The layer of goose down held tight by a wiry arm muffles his groggy voice.

  I carry out his request, darkening the room as best I can, but slices of yellow light still beam through the edges of the shades. “I’m gonna go for a run. I’ll be back.”

  “Whatever.”

  A chill slithers down my spine. Chase’s icy response has coated the room in a frosty freeze that sends me speeding through my routine to thaw out. What the hell is his problem?

  Before I’m finished pulling on my shoes, the light sounds of snoring are all he offers as I run out the door. Had he not woken up and been a total butthead, I might have skipped the exercise and stayed with him, but he sucks today. Moody and impulsive are my contributions to this relationship. I called dibs. Chase is the cool one, and I’m the bitch. It’s too late in the game to change roles now.

  Miley Cyrus blasts through my earbuds as my feet beat the pavement. My one pack a day habit stings my lungs, but it’s a sweet burn that only makes me push myself harder. The runner’s high. Had you tried to convince me of this crap in Jersey, I’d have laughed while slugging down my fifth vodka tonic, but it’s a real thing.

  My body buzzes with the feeling of taking flight. The wind in my face quiets the mania in my head for the moment, and all I think about is the liquid movement of my arms and legs transporting me elsewhere. It’s like sex, except instead of screaming orgasms, I get a rock-hard ass that could crack a walnut. Decent trade.

  A familiar face slows my pace as I near the park. I stop, tugging on the wires plugging me into my iPod. They dangle from my fingers like two lengths of overcooked spaghetti as I bend over to catch my breath. “You really gotta quit smoking.” Erik lifts one Nike Cross trainer to the edge of a park bench and pushes into the stretch, the thick ribbons of muscle in his thigh twisting under his skin. Yeah, I notice. I may be engaged, but I’m not dead. Erik is a good-looking dude. Okay, okay, he’s a beautiful man. I’m not going to lie. With easy smile and bulging biceps, he’s really easy to look at. In another life, maybe I’d make a play for him, who knows? But in this one, I’m hopelessly devoted to Chase. He’s nowhere near perfect, but he’s perfect for me.

  “Uh-huh,” I wheeze even though I know I’m never going to. He’s always on me about it. The man is worse than my giagiá.

  I stand straight and reach for the sky as Erik pushes each arm over the letters LAPD strained across his massive chest. Soon, we fall into step, jogging side by side. “Didn’t think I’d see you today. Chase okay?”

  “Yeah. We got home last night. He’s still sleeping.”

  “That’s good. The way you ran out of there last week had me worried.”

  I smile warmly, glancing his way as his intense gaze focuses forward, little lines forming between his brows and pursed lips. “Chase appreciates your concer
n,” I quip, hoping he doesn’t notice the hint of sarcasm bleeding through my voice.

  Erik sees right through it. “What’s wrong?”

  The peal of a cackling toddler steals my attention for a moment. My gaze shifts to the swing set on my left and the chubby smile of the baby flying toward her father’s waiting hands. An unexpected pang hits my heart for half a second, then drifts away as we run past. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Accepting that your feelings matter is an important step to accepting a sober you.”

  “Do you say this hokey shit when you’re taking down bad guys, Officer Reese?

  Deep laughter rumbles in his chest. “I’m just saying don’t internalize, Kat. You’re entitled to the way you feel.”

  I sigh, slowing to a stop. The midmorning sun encircles Erik’s head. It creates a halo effect, crowning his short brown hair making him look like a beefy Jesus. “Chase hurt my feelings this morning is all. I know he just had a traumatic experience or whatever, but he doesn’t have to be so nasty when I’m only trying to help.”

  Erik nods, holding me in his warm hazel gaze. “I see.”

  That’s all he says. No little crumbs of wisdom for me to peck at or clichéd verses about compassion and acceptance. Just two words and a casual step, toeing the line from the friend-zone I’ve clearly defined. “That’s it, really. I should get home, though. He’s gotta be awake by now. Thanks for listening.”

  Without another word, I turn and run. From what, I’m not entirely sure. Erik isn’t interested in me, nor I him, but the look on his face was something . . . I don’t know. The smallest bit of heat breaking through his stare was enough to send me heading for the hills.

  No, I’m not running away. I’m running toward something. My life. My everything.