Blissful volume 2 (New Adult Romance)

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Blissful volume 2 (New Adult Romance) Page 4

by Clarissa Wild

“I’m sorry …” I pull back the piece of cloth and notice it’s stained red. “Fuck. The bleeding really needs to stop.” I rip off another piece of my shirt and wrap it around her head, securing it tightly.

  She winces when I tie the knot. “Ouch! You’re hurting me.”

  “Yeah, well this ain’t the first time. I’m sure you can handle it.”

  She chuckles, and it makes my heart calm down, because it means she’s recovering. Or that she’s at least alert.

  I push her up, and she moans.

  “Sorry, I don’t wanna hurt you, but I do need to get you outta here. Get your wound cleaned up, see if it’s bad,” I say.

  Wrapping one arm under her legs and the other around her armpits, I lift her up. She’s not the lightest person I’ve carried, but I’ll manage. I have to. I have to get her to safety.

  “Scoot up,” I say to Madeline, lifting Amy’s legs over the horse. Buckled over, she can’t even sit straight. Her arms are around the horse’s neck and her head is resting in its hair. Tying Lucy to my horse, I make sure they both go home with me. I take a deep breath and haul myself up, so I sit in between Amy and Madeline. It’s not very spacious, but it’ll have to do.

  ***

  I’ve never had this much trouble getting home before. Normally, I would be laughing right now, the way we’re all sitting on one horse as awkward as it can get, but it’s not even close to funny.

  I let Madeline slip off first so that I have more room to get off. “Maddy, go get daddy some bandages. You know where they are, right?”

  She nods and then runs off into the house.

  I sling my legs over and get off, but Amy’s sinking away, too. She’s barely awake, and her body is slumped over. She drops into my arms, and I can barely keep her standing. Dragging her inside is difficult, and we’re both covered in mud now, but that’s the least of my problems. I take her to the couch while Madeline comes rushing down the stairs with a box full of supplies.

  “Here!” Maddy says, and she hands the box to me. Peering over my shoulder while I take off Amy’s coat, Maddy says, “Is she going to be okay?”

  “I hope so,” I say.

  Madeline’s quiet. I guess that was a little too much reality for her. She takes a few steps back, and I briefly glance at her. Her eyes are glazy and big. Shit. No, no, no! She’s thinking about it again. About Rose. I know it. I recognize that look. That’s what I wanted to avoid. Shit, I shouldn’t have said anything. Damn you McCallister!

  “It’s okay, Madeline. She’s going to be fine. I’ll make sure of that.” I put my hands on her shoulder. “When Amy wakes up she’ll be thirsty. Why don’t you go get some water, huh?”

  “Okay …” she says, and she bolts to the kitchen.

  This gives me some time to check Amy up, see if it’s really bad. Otherwise I might have to get a doctor, or worse, drive her to a hospital. Fuck, I hope that’s not the case. I feel guiltier by the second.

  Amy groans, and it instantly draws my attentions. Her eyes flutter open, and she winces. “Shh … don’t move too much,” I say, taking off the piece of cloth bound around her head. It’s still bloody, but less than before.

  Inspecting it, I see it’s not a large gash; it’s just a surface wound. They tend to bleed a lot longer and more, but aren’t that dangerous. My blood pressure immediately goes down discovering this.

  “Is this okay?” Madeline says as she comes back with a glass of water half filled, because she normally spills half of it on the floor before reaching her destination.

  “Yes, thank you, Maddy. Amy will be very happy.”

  “It was hard!” Madeline says as she hands me the glass.

  I chuckle. “I know, sweetie, but you have to get used to using the steps in the kitchen. You’re a big girl right?”

  She nods.

  “And you did it,” I add.

  Her smile makes me feel a little better about what I did. “Now, go play upstairs. Amy needs to rest a little.”

  Madeline picks up a few dolls lying on the floor before rushing up the stairs.

  Rummaging through the box, I grab some real bandage and clips to tie it around Amy’s head again. Raising her head is difficult, but she manages to sit through it. I’m already glad she’s able to stay awake. I hope she doesn’t have a concussion. I also hope that she forgot about being mad at me.

  Damn, why do I care so much? I’ve never cared this much. Not about anyone. Well, except Rose … but not since. I don’t understand why she’s so important to me. Maybe it’s because she reminds me of Rose. No … I can’t do that, that’s not okay. Rose is Rose, nobody can replace her.

  Squinting, Amy gazes at me, and it almost feels like she can see right through me. As if she’s reading the thoughts as they enter my mind. Damn, I feel watched.

  “You okay?” I say.

  She hums. “Better.”

  Her eyes drift off to the window, and she sighs. Dang, there goes my plan of hoping she forgot what I said.

  “Look, I’m sorry for what I said, all right?”

  She doesn’t give me anything. Not a look. Not a word. Not even a hum. Nothing.

  I lean over and let my forehead rest on her hand. She’s cold, so I take her hand in mine and start rubbing. Blowing some hot air against her skin seems to warm her up, but it also heats me up on the inside. My lips are on her skin, and all I can think of is kissing her until she smiles again.

  Fuck, I’m really falling for her.

  Suddenly I feel something wriggle through my hair, and when I look up I see it’s Amy. She’s caressing my scalp, her fingers drifting through my long brown hair.

  “It’s okay,” she mutters.

  I sniff as the tears well up in my eyes. Not because I’m sad, but because it’s been a long time since a woman has touched me so gently, so full of love. So forgiving.

  “But only if you tell me why,” she adds.

  “Or else you’re not going to forgive me?”

  “Nope.”

  Didn’t see that one coming. She’s going to make me explain why I did what I did? Damn that infuriating woman, always digging up the past I’d rather keep buried away.

  I sigh. “Fine. If you have to know, Maddy can’t swim.”

  “Can’t swim?” she mutters. “But it was only the shoreline.”

  I turn my head away and watch the clock hanging from the wall. The ticking makes me feel at peace with myself, but Amy’s constant questions push that calmness out of the way. It makes room for sorrow, and I don’t want to feel it. How can I ever grow over this pain?

  “Water … scares me,” I say. Hearing myself almost makes me laugh. It sounds pathetic, but it’s the truth. “Maddy can’t handle it, okay? You’ve seen what she does with her dolls, those stories of her.” I run my fingers through my hair from frustration. “I just want to protect her.”

  She looks befuddled for a second, but then tries to get up to grab her glass of water. She winces, her legs probably still painful from the bruises. I hold her back and get the glass for her, nudging it into her hand. Amy smiles and takes a few sips before handing it back to me.

  “I’ll take you upstairs so that you can get some rest.” Standing up, I wrap my arm under her legs, but she starts protesting.

  “What? No, what are you doing?” she says while I try to lift her from the couch.

  “Carrying you upstairs. What else do you think I’m doing?” I put my other arm under her armpits and lift her again.

  “Why? I can walk.”

  I sigh and start walking toward the stairs. “Just let me do this for you, okay?”

  She squints, but then a lopsided grin appears on her face. I know she’s watching me, and it makes me flush. She sees right through me. I feel guilty, and I want to carry her upstairs, even if she can walk on her own. I just want to be of help. For her to like me again. And I know she realizes this.

  It doesn’t matter. What does matter is the fact that my cock is already getting stiff just from feeling her body. Just f
rom smelling her flowery perfume. Just by looking into those coaxing eyes. Goddammit, I really want to touch her on places she never knew existed, get my hands all over her, and find release inside her.

  I want to fuck her until the night is over and all my pain is gone.

  Fuck me, I’m really pathetic.

  Shaking my head, I put her down on the bed in the guest room and cover her with a blanket. Meanwhile, she keeps gazing at me as if I’m some sort of laughable idiot, which isn’t strange at all, considering my actions.

  Without thinking about it, I give her a peck on her forehead, just as I always do with Maddy. The strange gesture makes her open her mouth, but it makes me feel weird. Shit, what the fuck am I doing?

  “I … I’ll let you rest a bit,” I say, and I quickly leave the room to avoid any more embarrassing scenes.

  I was terrified today, and I don’t know what to do with these feelings anymore. I’ve never felt so worried about another woman before, not since Rose. I’m drawn to Amy more and more, and I don’t know if I can stop it. I don’t know if I even want to anymore.

  Chapter 5

  Amy

  The creaking door wakes me up. My eyes slowly open, adjusting to the land of the living again. I don’t know for how long I was asleep, but I feel much better. My head aches less and I have more energy. I look up and see Jack peeking through a gap.

  He opens the door farther when he sees me looking, comes inside, and closes it behind him. “I just wanted to check up on you,” he says.

  He drifts through the room as though he doesn’t know where to put his feet. I watch him walk closer, the ripples of his muscles moving. His lips are curved down, but even when he looks miserable he’s still beautiful. He sits down next to me and breathes in and out, gazing into my eyes.

  “I feel much better. What time is it?” I say, and I sit straight up in bed. Looking down, I realize I put on a skimpy tank top for sleeping, and I totally forgot it doesn’t cover up much of my blubbery skin. Shit. Terrified he might see, I pull up the blankets farther.

  “Good. It’s eleven o’clock. Maddy’s in bed already,” Jack says.

  I don’t know why he’s telling me that. He scoots a little closer and lifts his hands, reaching for the bandage around my head. “May I?”

  I nod, and he takes off the wrappings. Feeling my head, he checks the wound. “Looks good,” he says.

  He’s so close, I can hear him breathe. And I can smell him. He reeks of bourbon.

  I sigh when he puts the bandage on the table next to the bed. “You’ve been drinking again.”

  He snorts. “Liquor helps me get through the night.”

  “There are other ways to get through pain.”

  He turns his head away from me and tries to get up.

  I grab his hand. “Wait.”

  “Why? So you can lecture me?”

  “No … I …”

  I let go of him again, but luckily he sits down again and rolls his eyes. I don’t want to force him to stay, but I don’t like it when he goes, either.

  “You shouldn’t be drinking. What about Maddy?”

  “What about her?”

  “Who will she look up to when you’re drinking yourself into the gutter?”

  He shakes his head and lowers it between his shoulders.

  “A man like you, whatever pain you’re trying to process and go through, needs to stay strong. For his girl.” I swallow. “For me.”

  A brief glance at me is all it takes. I can see the shock in his eyes. If I had a mirror right now, I know I’d see the same in mine. I can’t believe I just said that.

  “For you? You mean to say that after what I said to you today, after all that crying we both did, after you’ve seen the wreckage that is inside me, you want me to be there for you?”

  I know I’m glowing red as a beet now. “No, that’s not what I meant. I … oh, just forget it.”

  Shit, I’m being so self-absorbed right now, and that’s not at all what I meant with what I said. I turn my head and look at my suitcase, which is a giant pile of messy clothes. I should sort that soon. Yep. Way to avoid thinking about that amazing man sitting on your bed right now, asking you if you like him that much. Yes, Jack, I like you, even after all that. And I want to be there for you, too. I want to discover about you and all the darkness inside you, just like I know the good. I want to hold you close, console you, and love you. I wish I had the guts to say it, though.

  Suddenly I feel his finger graze my cheek. I look at him, and see him smile while he caresses my cheek and brushes aside a strand of hair. I gasp. We’re looking into each other’s eyes, and he’s so close now I can feel his breathe on my chin. Can he see what’s inside me? What I’m thinking? That I want to be there for him as much as I hope he is for me? Even if we’ve both been through hell?

  His hands are cupped around my face, and he inches closer. For a moment I hold my breath and close my eyes. His breathing tingles against my lips. When they press against mine it feels as though I’m on cloud nine again. He’s soft and delicate, moving slow and passionate. I want to embrace him and hold him against me, encapsulating him in my warmth.

  But he backs away again. Opening my eyes, I can see tears welling up in his.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers.

  “You aren’t.”

  He looks down at the sheets, the only space between us. “I’m afraid … so afraid that all I want is a woman. That it’s just lust. I don’t want to do that to you.”

  I place my hand on his arm. “I know it isn’t. I’ve seen you, Jack. The way you look at me. The way you treat me. You care about me. You can tell me all you want, but I’m not falling for it. I know what’s inside there.” I press my finger against his taut chest. “Just like you knew with me.”

  He grasps my finger and pulls it up to his lips, moving it around as if he’s caressing himself with my fingers. I can feel his yearning, how much he wants to be loved, but the angst is holding him back.

  No more.

  Leaning closer to him, I grab his free hand and press it against my chest, close to my heart. “We both need love. I don’t care if you’re a rebound.”

  He lets go off my hand and looks at me. He scans my face, checks out my breasts at exactly the place his hand is resting, and looks farther down. He looks at my leg, the spot which isn’t covered by the blanket. I took off my pants long ago, and when he sees the bare skin his hand slips under the blanket.

  I hold my breath as I feel his rough hands gently slide up my leg, moving to a painful bruise on my knee. He caresses it softly, easing the pain. Then his fingers slowly urge upward to my thigh. I hiss and shudder as he reaches my inner thigh and squeezes it. I can feel the heat pooling my belly and the moist building up between my thighs. I don’t want him to stop, but it’s scary having another man touch me there.

  He leans in and presses his lips onto mine. It’s breathtaking. The way he shivers as he touches me, the way his lips are both curious and anxious at the same time. I want it. I want all of it. I want him, every part of him, no matter how bad.

  We both need someone to love us.

  When he stops, a tear trickles down his cheek. He lets his head fall down onto my breasts, burying it into my chest, and he sniffs. “I want to have you so badly. Please, let me have you,” he whispers. “If only just for the night. Make me forget.”

  His fingers dig into my skin, and his breathing is ragged. I can hear he’s holding himself back. He wants me terribly, but we both aren’t sure if this is for real. If it’s love or lust. If it’s just a relief from the pain.

  But we’re both the same. We both need the consolation. The sweetness of love to mend our wounded hearts. I won’t hold him down. I need this as much as he does. However damaged we are.

  “You can have me,” I say.

  “But I’m a broken man. I can’t offer you anything in return.”

  “You don’t need to. We both have to ease the pain, and we can do that with lov
e.”

  He lifts his head and starts kissing me again. It’s soft and subtle, but he’s still whimpering. The saltiness of his tears makes me want to smother him. I don’t want to let him go. I want to give him what he needs. What I need. More. We will heal each other, if only for the night.

  He stops for a moment and looks me in the eye. “Are you sure?”

  I nod.

  “I don’t want to do anything you don’t like.”

  “Shut up and kiss me,” I say, muffling a laugh, and I press my lips firmly against his.

  His hands curve around my face, and he crawls farther onto the bed. His lips feel so good, so tantalizing, I can’t stop kissing him. I want more. So much more. Don’t ever make it stop. I can taste the bourbon from his mouth, but it doesn’t matter. Alcohol won’t interfere here. I will be his painkiller tonight.

  His fingers slip underneath my tank top, and I swallow down the lump in my throat. It feels confrontational, having someone touch the bare fat on my body. Grabbing my tank top, he pulls it up over my head. Out of instinct I grab the sheets and cover up my body. It’s what I’m used to. Covering up is what I always do.

  Jack stares at me, his brows furrowed. “What are you doing?” he asks.

  I tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re afraid to show a little skin?”

  I don’t answer. He’s right, though, but answering would be admitting to my lacking self esteem, and I really don’t feel like doing that right now. I just want to forget.

  “Do you really think I wouldn’t like what I see?” he says.

  I sigh. He grabs my hands and urges me to get out of bed. “C’mon. Get up.” He almost drags me out, and when the blanket drops off me, I feel really vulnerable. I’m partly exposed, wearing only a black bra and some panties. Not very attractive.

  With my hands clenched around my body, I stand in the middle of the guest room, feeling utterly naked. Jack drags me to the mirror and makes me stand in front of it. He’s right behind me, looking with me over my shoulder.

  “Look at you,” he says. His voice is soft. I’ve heard these same words before, but never in such a loving way.

 

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