Intertwined: A Redemption Novel

by Sasha Brümmer

  Isla bites down on my bottom lip, piercing the skin and drawing a drop of blood. She pulls back and cups her hand over her mouth once she realizes what she did. “Oops?”

  Reality sets in at the same moment she pushes her chest up against mine. Our little game just ended and now pure, unadulterated need swims through my veins at the idea of having her on the floor of the elevator.

  “You know,” I tell her, “I wasn’t really going to fuck you straight away, but . . .” I run my tongue over my bottom lip, tasting the rusty warmth from the blood she drew. “I may have to because of what you just did.”

  I watch her take the corner of her lip between her teeth as I hear the women exit, and the doors finally close. I don’t let go of her for the remainder of the ascent, but I stare into her eyes, daring her.

  She raises her brow at me, throwing the challenge back at me without saying a word. I watch her carefully as she shrugs her petite shoulders and leans into me again. Her tongue comes out, and she runs it over the bite mark on my lower lip. My eyes widen, but I cannot help my reaction to her as my lips start to move with hers again.

  Fuck, I don’t know what just went through her head, and as much as that should be inappropriate, it was anything but. The taste of her has made me realize that I’ve been starving to have her again. No amount of masturbation will ease this building need to have her once again.

  The elevator doors slide open, causing our kiss to come to an abrupt end. I set her on her feet before leading her out of the confined space and down the hallway to her front door. I wait impatiently for her while she inserts the key into the lock and pushes the door in. She steps inside, and I have to do a double take of her place before I can look at her again.

  “You redecorated?”

  She nods and takes the key out of the door before closing it and shrugs off her coat to hang it up.

  She’s been quiet ever since she claimed me as hers in the elevator in front of people who we didn’t know. She does this at times, and each time it baffles me the way she allows the silence to control her. When she’s unsure of herself, she reverts back to being someone who she’s fought to overcome. Instead of allowing her to think too much about what just transpired between us, I pull her back into the present with my words of distraction.

  “It looks good.”

  “Thanks, I really like it.”

  I glance around and notice that the walls to the upper part of the loft are now glass, giving me an unhindered view of her bedroom. Instead of the dark colors that once graced the walls, everything is light and white, from the ceilings to the floors. I watch her remove her Converses from her feet and step onto a plush, dark-gray rug that covers the living room area. My eyes travel to the wall above her flatscreen where there is a four-piece painting of a close-up of a woman’s face. She’s stunning, and I groan when I see those fucking gorgeous lips, and I know that they belong to her because I’ve seen those lips in that shade of red swallow my cock on more than one occasion.

  She’s managed to outfit her place just as she does herself. Since I’ve known her, the only clothing that she’ll wear is in blacks, whites, and grays. Aside from her red lips, and the occasional blue jeans, she doesn’t do colors.

  Over the years, Wade and I have tried to get her to put herself out there a little more, but it’s the one thing that she refuses to change. I don’t blame her, though, seeing as the world changed her heart. I remember purchasing a multi-colored thong for her once, and not even two seconds after handing it over to her, it was being consumed in the flames in Blended’s fireplace.

  “You know,” she says, pulling me from my private thoughts, “it’s kind of startling to be around you when you’re not drunk.”

  “Yeah?”

  “After the last few years, I’ve gotten used to you being fucked out of your mind while I’m around. I don’t think that we’ve held an actual conversation in years.”

  “I call bullshit on that one, doll.”

  “I don’t know, Jensen.” She laughs and opens one of the cabinets in her kitchen, pulling out two tumblers before filling them with two fingers of Pappy Van Winkle’s Family Reserve. She holds the glass out for me, and I take it in my hand while purposefully brushing my fingers along hers.

  I enjoy teasing Isla. She might consider herself a tough bitch on her exterior, but through the years, I’ve seen her break down her walls, and I’ve seen the emotional side of her. She may not wear the sentiments on her sleeves, but she sure as fuck knows how to lock herself away and emotionally tear herself apart.

  She’s self-destructive in that way. She doesn’t know how to handle the highs of her emotions when it comes down to it, just as I’m unsure how to manage my life.

  “Just this one, Isla. I need to cut back, plus I’m tired as fuck, and I’ll fall asleep on you.”

  She shrugs her shoulders, and I take a drink of the whiskey bourbon, groaning when the hints of vanilla, maple, and honey swim across my taste buds. She throws me a radiating smile over her shoulder and walks up the stairs into her bedroom.

  I leave her be, and take a seat on the beige sectional in her living room, leaning my head back and propping my arm up on one of the throw pillows while I stare up at the glass walls of her bedroom. I watch her intently as she gives me a silent show, removing her jeans and shirt before stepping out of my sight as she undoes the clasps of her black silk bra.

  No one should be this attracted to their best friend, but I’m well past caring about how frequently I see her flawless skin bared for me.

  I shut my eyes and lean my head back after taking another healthy sip of the whiskey bourbon. This shit may not be the top of the line in the world of whiskey, but it’s fucking incredible. It’s premium through and through.

  I’m jolted awake by the pinching of my skin between her teeth as she bites down on the inside of my wrist. I’m about to pull away from her when I realize that it’s the hand that I’ve got my tumbler in.

  “Fuck, Isla. Control your goddamn mouth, would you?”

  “Uhh, rude,” she says through a giggle and sits down beside me before leaning forward and pulling open a box of my favorite Chicago deep-dish pizza.

  “When the hell did you order this?”

  She moves strands of her wet ink-black hair over to one shoulder before she pulls out a slice and leans back against the couch.

  “When your ass was well and passed out.”

  “I was resting my eyes,” I shoot back and take a slice of my own, groaning when the taste of mozzarella cheese and pizza sauce hits my mouth.

  She wipes off her mouth with a napkin before speaking. “Your stubborn ass was snoring. Don’t try and deny it or I’ll lock my bedroom door tonight.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.”

  I finish my slice and reach for another. I had no idea how damn hungry I was, or maybe it’s just because Lou Malnati’s pizza is the shit. Isla sets her crust down, and I eye her suspiciously. “You’re not going to eat that?”

  “Uhh, nope. I need some more cheese and sauce,” she tells me as she reaches for the pie again.

  I put my hand out to stop her. “Uh-uh. Eat that. Nobody wastes this heavenly pie.”

  “Liam,” she starts, staring me down, “if you’d prefer the bathtub to my bed, then you could have just said so.” Her quirky smile inches its way onto her face as the words leave her mouth.

  I sigh and move my hand away, allowing her another slice before she eats the crust.

  “So,” she says after taking a bite, “where are you going to look for a place to call home?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m not entirely sure. I’ll have to get a realtor to help start my hunt. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Well, it depends on what you want. Would you want a penthouse or apartment? Or even a house?”

  I finish my slice while she sets her second one down, which she took one bite out of, and turns to face me. It’s now that I notice that she’s in leggings and a sweatsh
irt. She sits cross-legged and braids her hair while she waits for my answer.

  “I think that I’ll get a house. As much as I love living in the city itself, it’d be nice to have somewhere to escape to, but I’m unsure.”

  “So . . . something like your place in Sydney?”

  “I’d like that.”

  She bites the corner of her lips as she ties the end of her braid. “What about Winnetka?”

  “Winnetka? That’s more than thirty minutes from the city, doll. Plus, I don’t think those old-money rich bitches will approve of the parties that I plan on hosting there.”

  “Well, I’m not sure if you’ll get the mansion that your heart desires any closer to the city, and you are part of one of those old-money families, so you can’t say a word.”

  I chuckle and take a drink before laying my arm on the back of the couch. “I need another option.”

  She blows out a breath before replying. “What about staying on the Gold Coast? I know that it’s in the city, but it’s right on the water, which I happen to know you like. You’d be close enough to me too.”

  “I might scare you away if I’m too close to you.”

  She barks out a laugh and shoves my hand away from her shoulder. “You should just build your own damn house here in the city. I’m sure the realtor will never meet all of the wants you’ll have.”

  “That’s actually not a bad idea. I’ll have to look into pieces of land that are for sale.”

  “So it’s settled then?”

  “For now,” I say through a yawn.

  “Great. So you’re going to stay in the city if you can find a lot big enough for your ego?”

  “Ah, there she is,” I chuckle and trail my fingers down the column of her neck. I get an eye roll for that comment, and she shifts slightly beneath my touch.

  “I’m going to bed,” she tells me as she stands and stretches her arms up in the air, giving me a glimpse of her bare stomach. “You coming?”

  “Am I?” I tease her and get up. I wrap my arms around her midsection and lift her over my shoulder as I make my way through her loft, turning off the lights as I go until we get up to her bedroom. I toss her onto her bed before pulling my shirt off over my head and tossing it onto one of the two chairs that are in the room.

  She eyes me as she crawls underneath her large white comforter and relaxes back against a pillow that seems to be twice her size.

  “If you need an orgasm, I’m happy to oblige, but I’m afraid that I’m too fucking tired to do more than that tonight, doll.”

  “You’re turning me down?”

  “Nah, I wouldn’t do that. I just wouldn’t be able to live up to the high standards that I’ve already set.”

  “As if.”

  I undo the button on my jeans and kick off my shoes. She’s still watching me while I slide the material down my legs, toss it on top of my shirt, and climb in beside her.

  “Keep those cold-ass toes to yourself tonight.”

  “Fine,” she grumbles and turns on her side.

  I reach over her to turn off the lights before winding an arm around her waist, and pulling her body up against mine.

  “Sleep well, baby doll.”

  “Mmm.”

  I’ve never met anyone who has the uncanny ability to be a complete and utter grumpy bitch every morning without fail as Isla does.

  I understand that waking up at five in the morning is not her forte. I mean, it’s not mine either, but the time change fucks up my body each and every time I make this trip.

  As I run my hand between her sweatshirt and her leggings she shifts and grabs a pillow, launching it at me. How she managed to hit me directly in the face without looking, I have no idea.

  “Fucking hell, doll.”

  “I’m sleeping.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’m not.”

  “Liam,” she moans and turns her head to face me as she hugs her pillow.

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re an ass. Get out of my bed.”

  I move my hand under her leggings to touch her bare ass, enjoying the fact that she’s not wearing any underwear. “All right. I’ll give you ten more minutes while I go shower.”

  “Deal,” she says sleepily and rolls back over.

  I get up and stretch out my tired muscles before walking downstairs to grab my phone. I have a couple of emails from RW and a message from Addy: Hey. I wanted to make sure that you made it back. If you need a place to crash, you’re welcome to stay with me.

  I groan because as much as I still want to bury myself inside of her, I’ve already hurt her more times than what is acceptable of a man. I now know that she wants much more from me than just to hook up, because any woman who heard what I said about her as Addy did would have let me go without looking back.

  Yet she still wants me in her life, proving to me that I mean much more to her than a simple cock to sink down onto. I type out a message and hit send: Hey. Yeah, I made it, and I’m crashing with Isla. I don’t think that this is going to work between us anymore, Addy.

  I walk over to the coffeepot and start a batch then make my way back upstairs to the bathroom when my phone goes off. I was not expecting her to reply to me at this early hour, but here she is: You know what . . . fuck this. I thought that you’d just need time to figure out what you wanted, but it seems as if you’ve already done so. Goodbye, Liam.

  I groan and type out another reply: I’m sorry, Adriana. I know that in time, we’ll be able to hang like we used to. I’ll see you around.

  To that, I don’t get a response, so I set my phone down on the bathroom vanity and turn the shower on before I remove my boxer briefs. I step into the shower and allow the steam to fill the room while I rinse off my past with the scalding water.

  I may not be getting high anymore, but I sure as shit could use something strong this morning. It’s hard to see just how poisonous someone is in your life until you are able to walk away and take a deep breath of fresh air. For some reason, I’m breathing in that new air this morning, and I’m unsure if it has to do with saying goodbye to Addy, no longer getting high, or being around Isla.

  For some reason, though, I believe that moving forward from Addy is, in a fucked-up way, moving away from the life I shared with Chloe. What’s done is done, and now, as I watch a single water drop run down the wall of the shower, I realize just how small of an impact my life can have on the world. At the same time, I also realize just how much of an impact I’m making when I join with another drop. I’ll figure out what is the best way to move forward with RW when I’ve regained the faith that I once had in myself.

  I know that I need to get my shit together and that it’s now or never.

  By the time I emerge from the bathroom, Isla is still passed out under the mound of white covers. I head downstairs and pour a single cup of coffee before coming back up to her bedroom and slamming the door shut to jolt her awake.

  Motherfucking shit.

  I sit upright and clutch at my chest. My heart is beating so hard that it’s about to pound out of my body.

  “You scared me, you asshole!”

  “Mmm, good morning, doll,” he says with a smug smile as he takes a drink of steaming-hot coffee.

  I glare at him from my spot on the bed, but my eyes quickly travel the length of his body. He’s still damp from his shower, and I squeeze my thighs to try and provide the apex of them with some sort of relief at the sight of this man. He’s wrapped a towel around his hips and tucked it in right above the spot where his heavy cock lies.

  I watch him as his corded arm lifts the white mug up to his lips, and I swear if this were a dream, then I’d already be drooling and naked beneath him. He’s impeccably groomed—he always has been—and I cannot help but stare. My lady bits are begging for relief as he takes a step toward the bed.

  “Want some?” he says as he takes another drink of the black gold and moves to the side of the bed that I’m seated on. I watch the muscles in his torso move as he lowers hi
mself onto the bed and offers me the coffee mug. I take it with both hands and groan when the dark, pungent java aroma hits my senses. The comforting cloak of coffee and warmth take over my body as I take a sip and moan at the soothingly dark liquid. It’s almost as good as whiskey. Almost.

  I take one more sip before handing the mug back to him then crossing my legs. I watch as his mouth wraps around the lip of the mug and he takes a drink just as my insides pull together.

  “Thank you,” I say softly.

  He raises his eyebrows as he hands me the mug again and I hold it with both of my hands to sip from. Instead of handing it right back to him, I hog it a little longer than I should. He shifts his large frame closer to me and takes the mug from me, downing the remainder of the coffee before placing the now-empty mug on my nightstand.

  I pout at him because I need more coffee than that to completely wake up.

  Chuckling, he gets up on his knees and moves over me, causing me to lie back down while he hovers on top of my rather needy body. Just because I’m a woman, doesn’t mean that I don’t need a release in the morning.

  A chill runs through my body as he leans down and runs his nose up the column of my neck. I manage to swallow as his lips find mine, and as hard as I try, I cannot keep my hands to myself any longer. I slide them down either side of his long torso to where the towel sits low on his hips.

  I dip a finger underneath the soft fabric of the towel and tug, slowly freeing his bare skin of it. He groans as his tongue moves alongside mine now. He tastes of coffee and Liam. It’s a heady combination to wake up to.

  One at a time, my thoughts creep in unwanted as our mouths move along each other’s and our tongues intertwine in a private dance.

  I know that I should stop messing around with him because one of us is going to get hurt in the future, and I have no doubt that that one will ultimately be me. He’s too much of a player to hurt over someone like me. I mentally scold myself for wanting him like I do. I shouldn’t, I know that, but I do.

  Instead of pulling the towel off of him completely, I move my hands back up over his chest and push him off of me.