Red: Fiery Finale (Spectrum Series Book 8)

by Allison White

  “My hands.” My voice isn’t mine; it’s too deep, too saturated with lust. I grip her hair with both of my hands and pull out the hairband holding it up. I flick it over the railing. “You look stunning with it down. All sexy against your back, your shoulders, your chest, your—fuck.” I stop rambling when she pushes her hips, grinding against me.

  A fire inside of me burns bright and fast, and I need her desperately. Wine bubbling in my veins and a fire in my stomach, I pull her against me. I kiss her, hard and fast and wild. I devour her soft, warm lips. My brain feels fuzzy, my cock painfully hard…slowly, moving, pushing…she’s riding me. Her pussy is basically throbbing beneath her thin panties.

  “Oh, Noah,” she moans as I move my greedy mouth to her neck. I suck and yank her head back. I peck hungrily against the column of her neck. She yelps as I rake my fingers down her stomach. I’m on my feet and moving us to the other side of the hot tub before even I can process it.

  I grip her lacy panties and pull them apart. I’m pretty sure I throw them over the railing. I wonder if it’ll land on someone’s head or get swept up by a seagull. My stupid thoughts are drowned out by her moan when I sink a finger into her.

  “Shit,” she groans and grips the back of my neck.

  I smile dazedly, kissing her mouth. Sparks of fire consume me as she bites my lower lip. I lick her upper one, and we are sucked into a vortex of need and lust and love. I feel it as her tongue dances with mine, as she rocks herself into the cup of my hand. Putty in my arms, she melts and rocks herself. But I need to feel her. Need to fuck her.

  I’m moving my hand from her waist when I remember I can’t. I need a condom—fuck me—the irony isn’t lost on me, trust me.

  She whimpers, and it’s cute, but the hooded look in her eyes is sexy as fuck when I remove my finger. “What are you doing?” She’s breathless and biting her lip.

  “Ride me.” I place my hands around the soft curve of her waist and watch her face melt from confusion to realization to anger to need.

  Nodding, she pushes hair behind her ear. Legs spread for me, she lowers herself and slowly rocks her hips. “Fuckkkkk, Red.” I lick her lips, and she smiles against me before doing it again, and again, and again—she falls into a delicious rhythm.

  “Like this, Noah?” she asks in a sickly sweet voice darkened with lust.

  “Yeah, baby. Just like that. Fuck yeah, just like that.” I can barely see her beauty with my clouded eyes. But when I do, I am that much closer to fucking releasing under her pussy riding and gliding against me. So warm, so—oh, fuck.

  Thirsty for more, I grab the wine bottle and pour some on her neck and chest. She moans when I go in for a taste. Just as sweet and intoxicating as I thought. I suck longer and harder, creating a mark that makes me smirk. I take another deep, long drink before setting the wine down and kissing her chest. I pop open her bra and throw it on our pile of clothes.

  “So beautiful…so sexy…so…fuck.” I admire her chest before attaching my mouth to her right breast. I suck and toy with her other one. I smile as she pushes harder, faster, breathless and panting my name.

  I remove my mouth and kiss up to her mouth. I grab the flesh of her ass and rock her against me.

  “Noah, that feels so good. Yes,” she hisses and fights for breath.

  She is so sexy, so alluring, and so god damn beautiful. I soak in the moonlight hitting her chest at the right angle, golden hair flowing down her back. Love bites covering her neck. Moaning my name and biting her bruised red lips. I lick her lips, suck them, nibble, and all but engrave her body to mine, flushed against each other. Every breath is mine and vice versa.

  I stare as she leans back and rocks her lean body against mine. I rock her faster, and her eyes are fluttering shut. She’s about to come. I’m about to fucking come. But I need to see her. Now. Gripping her hair, I pull her against my chest and tilt her head down. Foreheads pressed against each other, I lick her bottom lip and whisper haughtily, “Come for me, Rossa.”

  Her forehead creases, and her hips shake against me. “Oh fuck, Noah!” she yelps, and the pleasure buzzing beneath her heated skin thrums against me. I kiss her bottom lip and groan, coming to my own high. She rocks her hips, bouncing slightly, and I curse as she torturously pulls me closer and closer to damnation.

  She shatters in my arms with a scream and closes her eyes. I swallow her loud moan, and she whimpers as I deepen the kiss. I kiss her hungrily, savoring every swipe of our tongues, hissing as her nails slowly drag down my chest. I hesitantly pull away for air. Our breathing is intense and hard and breathless.

  “More wine?” I smile against her neck, kiss her gently.

  She shakes her head and pulls back, searing me with lusty eyes. “More you.” And then she takes my cock out of my boxers, and then I’m coming again, and then she is too, and then we’re on my bed, and then we’re making each other come again and again without actual sex, without fucking condoms…but that doesn’t stop the waves of pleasure that hit me with every flick of her tongue and roll of her hips.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Red

  The vibration of my pillow wakes me. That and the stupid sunlight pouring through the thin blinds. This hotel can afford a sitting room and freaking movie theater but not thicker curtain blinds? What a fucking waste.

  I lift my head, but it plunks right back down when gravity scoffs. I groan and pull my heavy arm across my face. My head is absolutely pounding; it feels like someone’s hammering a nail in my brain. I blink rapidly and sit up on my elbows when I hear a loud snore.

  And it isn’t mine.

  The cloud behind my eyes clear and find the muscular back of a guy. I instantly begin freaking out. I didn’t sleep with a random guy…I wouldn’t do that. Not even drunk as I was. Wait, how did I get drunk? The last thing I remember is laughing with Noah on the beach as he taught me some drawing tricks, then…blank.

  I’m desperately searching through my fuzzy head when that back shifts, and instead the face of Noah greets me.

  Noah!

  My heart is pounding as I quickly search my thoughts. I remember riding up in the elevator, eating shawarma and drinking wine, then hot bubbly water, and his lips—soft, and me grinding myself on him…

  “Shit!” I curse and drop my face into my palms. How the actual hell did we end up dry-humping in the damn hot tub…and then soon after in this bed? And man did we do a lot more than dry-humping. I rub my bruised lips and groan. I can practically taste him, feel him on my tongue. “Fuuuuuck,” I groan loudly.

  Too loudly, because his eyes groggily flutter open. The second his dark green eyes find me, my heart pounds at the same fast rate of my migraine. Neither of us say anything but stare at each other. I get lost in his eyes and, by the look of his clouded eyes, I’m guessing he’s lost in mine too. Fuck.

  “Morning,” he rasps, his deep morning voice sending chills down my spine. I clench my sore legs together and quickly shove the image of him kissing up them away. This is no time to reminisce in what went down last night.

  I don’t say anything because I have no idea what to say. Last night was not supposed to happen. I made it very clear that we can’t be together. Nearly having sex, which I’m glad we had enough common sense to not do for the lack of condoms, does not fit in with my plans of leaving this precious boy alone.

  So, instead of saying anything that would hurt him, I stand up. I’m completely naked and blushing when his lusty eyes roll up and down my body. Completely covered in love bites. More flashes of memory of him kissing, sucking, licking. I drop to the ground and make a guttural sound. This cannot be happening.

  “What are you doing down there?” he asks.

  “Getting ready,” I tell him and look for my panties, but I come up empty. I stand up. His eyes find mine again, and I can clearly see the remainder of desire flashing across them. Biting my lip and finding strength to not address his morning boner, I bend down and take a deep breath. Fuck.

  He watches me
scramble around the room and onto the balcony for my clothes. I vaguely remember wine being poured on me. I have my shorts on, and I’m clutching my shirt, but I can’t find my bra.

  “Where the fuck is my bra?” I mutter to myself.

  Oh, fuck it. We’re going to free the nipple today, I think to myself as I pull on my crop top.

  “Are you regretting what we did last night?”

  His question stops me in my mission to find my sandals. I can’t face him, only stare down at his boxers in front of my bare feet. Of course I don’t regret last night. I’ve literally dreamed about what we did last night and so much more…but it was only a dream. And so is being with him. Even being desired by him, loved by him, is a dream itself. A dream I need to have by myself. I can’t drag him into me. I am too dark for him, my light.

  “Yes,” I lie, and he slumps against the headboard of the bed. I try my best to ignore his heavy green eyes and the heavier weight on my shoulders as I search for my sandals.

  “‘That feels so good, Noah.’ ‘I love you so much, I feel you everywhere,’” he begins quoting me from last night. “‘Please don’t stop. I’ve missed you so much.’” Each slashes a deep cut in my heart and soul, but I ignore him and my splitting heart. “Were those lies?”

  “I…I don’t…” I stammer, and my eyes are watering.

  “What you said last night, what we did, wasn’t a mistake.” He pauses. “You wanted me as much as I do you. And you know why? Because you want me.”

  “Noah, I…” I stop short. Where the fuck are my sandals?

  “You what, Red? You want me, but you’re too scared to do something about it?”

  “Of course I…” I can’t fucking speak. Can’t turn around and face him head-on, because he’s right. I’m freaking terrified to see the anger I hear deep in his voice.

  “Of course you what, Red?” he shouts, and I can’t help it. I spin around and thump my fists on his hard chest. The tears I tried too hard to hide away from him pour down my face as I blurt out the words that have been brewing inside of me for four fucking months.

  “Of course I want you, Noah! I’ve wanted you for every second of every day since I left! Every. Damn. Second. But I—I—I can’t have you. All right? You are too good for me, and I know that sounds stupid and a lie, but it isn’t. It’s the pure, wholesome truth. I cannot have you because I don’t deserve you!”

  “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, but you keep pushing away from me and denying us!”

  “Because I’m trying to protect you,” I exclaim. Screw the sandals, I’m a few doors over. He can keep them. I move to escape his harsh tone but sweet words. Words that I cannot hear. They’re only making what is necessary so much harder.

  But he grabs my hand and spins me around into his thrumming chest. His heart is pounding wildly, his eyes wide and mouth moving a mile a second.

  “You’re not getting away that easy, Red! Just take a breath and think about this,” he urges.

  “I am thinking.” I pull at my hand in his larger one, but he’s stronger and brimming with rage and frustration and need, so much need. I can feel it massage my heart as he flushes me against him, against all of him. I close my eyes, trying to expel the reality that his hardness is bare and pressed against me.

  “Then what are you thinking right now? Hmmm?” He drops his voice, tilts my head back. His eyes are misty with lust, and his pink lips are parted.

  “Don’t, Noah. I can’t…” I stammer and lick my lips. I don’t know when it happened, but one second I’m begging him to stop, and the next his lips are on mine. Feverish, wet, warm, and so hard. My body has a mind of its own as I wrap my arms around his neck. He is breathing so hard into me and gripping the hem of my crop top. I lean back and raise my arms. His hands quickly pull it over my head, and his eyes darken even more as he eyes my bare chest.

  “So fucking sexy,” he murmurs in a rasp before picking me up and smashing his lips on mine. I gasp at the sudden action but don’t have enough time to mull it over, because I’m on my back on the bed and he’s kissing my neck. His kisses are quick and wet and all over my heated skin.

  “Noah—yes,” I hiss, once again blinded by need. It fills my veins and takes over my hands as they grip his shoulder, slowly dragging down his muscular back. The large, tight muscles constrict and move under his skin as my nails dig into his skin. I thrust my hips up to meet his hard erection. I rub myself against him, and we both sigh in a haze of pleasure and desire.

  We both want this. We both need this. I need this—need him. But I just can’t have him. Not in the way that I want. Not unless I want to completely ruin him.

  “No,” I say breathlessly and scramble away from him. I stare at him as I pull on my shirt. I need to look away from him; he’s pulling on his boxers and sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Why do you always leave me?” he asks, his voice breaking.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Noah. I—”

  “But you have hurt me!” he shouts and jumps to his feet. “You’ve ripped my heart out of my freaking chest. Is that what you want me to say? That you’ve hurt me? Because I know it. I stewed in the pain for four fucking months! But I want you, goddamn it, and it’s clear you want me too! So why don’t you stop being a fucking coward for one damn second and just accept it?”

  “Because I don’t want to hurt you anymore!” I scream. What doesn’t he understand about me not being right for him?

  He laughs, and it’s maniacal and breathless. “You can’t hurt me any more than you already have, Red. Trust me. But that doesn’t matter. I want you. So why don’t—why don’t you want me?” He pants for air after ranting. And his neck and face are red, tears welling in his vibrant green eyes. I want to cup his face, brush the tears away, be with him…but I can’t.

  I turn away from him and ignore all the voices shouting in my head. “This is for the best, Noah. I’m—I’m so sorry,” I say in a quiet voice, but the voice in my head is yelling bloody murder. He mumbles something I don’t understand and falls onto the bed, his head in his hands. I expect him to fight for me one last time, but he doesn’t. And with a broken heart that I caused myself, I leave his suite and race to mine.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Noah

  I’m underwater surrounded by jumbled words and crisp suits. I can barely tell the difference as I sit in on this meeting between Henry, a few of his colleagues, Ellis, and me. I am a direct mouthpiece, my father’s son he’s discreetly grooming for his empire, yet I can’t comprehend a single thing that’s going on right now.

  And it’s all because of Red, who is taking notes between two older men in the suits.

  My mind replays the events of last night and this morning on a torturous loop. Over and over, my mind is caressed by her moans and cries for me and then smashed in with a sledgehammer by her rejecting me, running away like I’m poison.

  In reality, she’s the damn poison. She is my drug—my addiction—and I can’t get enough of her. And now that I can’t have her, she’s everything electric, everything alive, and without her, I’m left cold and helpless.

  “How do you feel about that, Noah?” Henry asks, eyeing me with a confident smile.

  I have no idea, and so I keep up my semi-interested façade and helplessly glance at Ellis. He moves a hand under his nose, eyebrows raising twice. I’m going to take that as a yes…to whatever the question was.

  “I feel confident in that, Mr. Armstrong.” I flash him a smile that never goes wrong, even throw in the dimples people often fawn over.

  Good thing, because he breaks out into a smile and stands. “Then I will fax over the paperwork ASAP. It’s great doing business with you two and your father. He’ll be pleased to know how wonderfully professional you two are.” I flash him the smile again and shake his hand, then his colleagues’.

  Sure. Not like I was thinking about my flighty ex-girlfriend.

  “Thank you very much, sir. Your hotel is beautiful.” You can never go wrong
with sucking up and flashing one of these smiles. A part of me is giddy having his sort of stamp of approval that’ll be shipped over to my father and land on his unappreciative lap.

  We say parting words, and the second I land on my bed, I close my eyes and let out a tired sigh. I want to sleep for the rest of this miserable trip. We leave tomorrow, and the hours can’t tick any slower. I don’t want to be here any longer, where I had my heart mended for one night and crushed just hours later. This place is toxic in my eyes, and I need to get the hell away.

  As I rub my face with my palms, I wonder how the hell I got here. To this place. Heartbroken, heart-heavy, poisoned by a girl I love. If I could wish for one thing, it’s that I would have seen the signs at the start. Because then I would have called the fucking SWAT on that prick that forced his sadistic plan onto her.

  I would have shown her the love I feel for her, she would have realized how shitty what she was doing was, and we would be lying on the white sand beach right now.

  But that’s only a fantasy, a dreamland I can live in for a few moments but will be kicked out of when reality comes barreling down. Sadly enough, you can’t go in the past and stop a tragedy from happening. If you could, there wouldn’t be life anymore, just people spinning back in the past and causing a ripple effect—a butterfly effect.

  I know I would create a red butterfly effect, pretty to witness, but painful to touch. But intoxicating all the same.

  A gentle knock on my door pulls me from my thoughts.

  “Coming,” I call out, my voice soft from exhaustion. I rub my aching neck as I pad over to the door. I don’t bother peeking out as I open it. Red is staring up at me with wide blue eyes, her hands at her sides. Her brilliant eyes flit to the ground, and I am too conflicted with too many emotions to speak, so I wait for her to speak first.

  “I, um, I left my phone here,” she croaks, pointing past me into the room.