Red: Fiery Finale (Spectrum Series Book 8)

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Red: Fiery Finale (Spectrum Series Book 8) Page 13

by Allison White


  She was in such a rush to flee my room like I was a predator, her the prey, that she forgot her phone. I almost laugh out loud, but I bite my tongue and step back. I gesture past me into the room, and she hesitates. I cut her a pointed look, and I can see her heart skip a beat as she smiles sheepishly and slowly pads inside the room.

  The second she disappears around the bend, I release my heavy breath. How is it that, after she’s pushed me away and stabbed me emotionally, she can take my breath away? I laugh breathlessly. I guess that’s what you get for loving Red.

  I shut the door and stroll into the suite. “Find it?”

  She’s on her knees and has an arm patting under the bed. “Not yet.”

  What in the hell did we do that her phone is lost under the bed? Images of groping hands and heavy breathing and almost-sex positions flitter through my mind like a movie, and I have to pull my suit pants outward. They’re too tight with those kinds of thoughts. Especially when she’s bent over like that, wearing a fitted purple dress that lays over her round ass so perfectly.

  “Found it!” she announces and extracts her hand. My eyes fall on her mouth-watering cleavage, and I lean against the dresser as casually as possible.

  “That’s great,” I tell her, giving her a small smile.

  But her smile falls when she scrolls through it. “Should’ve left it under there. God, my sister is the most annoying person on the planet.” Her fingers fly over the dusty screen, and she steps toward me.

  “What’d she do?” I ask curiously. The desire to know so much more about her makes my chest ache. And knowing that I’ll never know any more than I do makes it hard to breathe at all.

  “Just being a little shit. Be glad you’re an only child,” she huffs and sends a last text or whatever before clutching it at her side. She faces me and grins, nearly killing me with her natural beauty. And the sunbeam shooting through the sheer curtains isn’t helping anything.

  “I guess you should be going then, huh?” I can’t keep smiling like this anymore. I’m exhausted both physically and mentally. I think I deserve a nap before her next round of torture, don’t you?

  “Oh.” Her smile twitches and just falls. “I will leave you alone then…I’ll see you tomorrow, Noah.” My heart stops beating the moment she walks away from me. One more step and—

  I close my eyes. Don’t turn around, I pray on repeat. A large part—practically the majority—wants so desperately for her to spin around and profess that she needs to be with me to live, to breathe as I need her. But I can’t have her in my arms one more time, only for her to think of herself as this unredeemable monster and leave me like I’m a fool again. I won’t have it, wouldn’t be able to survive it.

  I squeeze my eyes tighter when the clicking of her heels resumes in my direction.

  “Don’t,” I whisper softly. I wonder if she heard, but the heels stop coming, and her body is close enough for me to reach out and pull toward me. Kiss her. Then feel nothing but cold air when she runs away. Again.

  “Noah, I am truly sorry for everything I’ve put you through—” she begins with a creaking voice.

  How can this be hurting her when she’s the one saying it? Doesn’t she get a kick out of hurting me like this? I want to throw up at my disgustingly mean thoughts, but I can’t help it. My body and bruised ego are guiding my thoughts and everything I do. But my heart is still on the fence, battered like a baseball in a batting cage, but a puppy dog in love with a pit-bull with a kiss sweeter than her barks.

  But I can’t do this, let my benched heart that’s waiting for her to turn around and declare her never-ending love for me. If I do, I’ll be waiting for an eternity, because that’s the time Red will hate herself.

  “Don’t,” I say again, calm.

  “Noah, please just listen to me,” she pleads softly, reaching for my hand. Electric sparks run along my arm, and my doe-eyed heart swoons and sighs, but I can’t allow him to dictate this anymore. I have to let my weapon-ready body and ego take over. Otherwise, the whole of me will be left in the rubble.

  I rip my hand from her. “Leave me alone.”

  “What?”

  “I said to leave me alone.”

  She smiles crookedly, nervously, and reaches for my hand, but I pull away and scoot away from her, gauging her hurt expression. “Noah, what are you doing?”

  “I’m pushing you away. I’m saying there’s no chance for us,” I say, and she blinks rapidly, keeping her tears at bay, and tries to look away, but I duck my head and hold her shoulders. “I am telling you to leave me alone from now on. Back home, at the office, on campus, everywhere else. Here. Stay away from me.”

  “Noah, why—why?” she stammers, and tears trail down her cheeks.

  I mock frown. “Oh, you’re crying. Why are you crying, Red? Do you care about me now? But if I try to kiss you, you’ll push me away and run off to America, far, far away from me. What happened to you that made you this sadistic, confusing person? I swear, I wouldn’t be able to figure you out in a million fucking years.”

  “I want you, Noah, but this is for the better—” she begins to lie again.

  I’m so sick and tired of her doing this, saying this. I need her to be straight for me for once, for right this moment.

  I grab her cheeks and feel the tears pooling in her eyes. “Pull away,” I tell her over the rustling wind, “if you do not want me, truly. If you think you can live another minute without me by your side as yours, you pull away right now or I swear to God…we are through. No more drunk nights, no more longing glances, no more confusing touches—nothing more. It’s either you have me, all of me, or none of me. But you have to choose right now.”

  I pray and hope to God that she stays in my arms for the rest of my life. I have suffered one too many blows from her; I can’t handle another one. She has become my breath, and I didn’t realize it until she left me panting for months on end.

  Until my brain and heart slowly died. Until she gutted me, and I. Just. Couldn’t. Breathe. And I need her, need to breathe again. I’m barely able to stand upright on my shaky knees as she bites her lips and looks into my eyes.

  The battle is clear in her glossy blue eyes. It’s clear in the tears dropping onto my fingers. It’s clear as her chest pounds against mine. I can see it as she closes her eyes briefly and makes a painfully low sound. It strikes through me in one final blow, and I just have to bring out the feisty, beautifully chaotic girl I fell desperately in love with.

  I smash my lips against hers, and she holds my arms. I press her into a wall. My body shivers, and her hair tendrils tickle me. I deepen the kiss and keep it slow and gentle, yet the passion and hunger override my light approach. I can’t help it—I need her back. Need her now.

  And when I pull back for breath and feel her say a breathless “yes,” I have to take her lips again with a force so strong, it sends lightning down my spine and makes my toes curl. And I am so lost in her, so lost in My Red.

  Chapter Twenty

  When she gently pulls away, cupping my face, eyes fluttered blissfully shut, it’s too soon. I’ve felt her sweet, soft lips last night and barely grazed them a few times before. Last night was biting, teasing, licking, and hungry kisses. They weren’t filled with my love and unfathomably all-consuming adoration for her.

  And those quick, flitting brushes of my lips against her weren’t filled with anything, no soul-frying sparks, nothing. They weren’t enough to keep me sated and sane, didn’t remind me of how amazingly perfect our lips mold together like they were made for it.

  But this kiss—this kiss was everything I needed to breathe. It was slow and gentle but sparked with that passion that lingers between our skins and explode when our mouths touch, even for a graze, and especially for our rough moments last night. This kiss was just right, just what I needed to feel weightless.

  We stay like this for a long while, it seems like years, foreheads resting against each other, her small palms on my cheeks, mine on her lower bac
k, breaths warm and mingling, and I don’t plan on moving any time soon.

  “I have to go change,” she whispers, and the pain behind her voice makes me smile for some odd, sadistic reason. Maybe because she sounds like she doesn’t want to leave me and that’s what she’d been doing for so long.

  “Don’t change,” I say. My voice rasps as I look down between our pressed bodies. The warmth of her against me and the fire cracking under my skin as I stare at the dress clinging to her body.

  Her face twists up. “Why not? This shit is uncomfortable.”

  And very sexy, I want to say, but I don’t want to sound like I just want her back for her body. She’s gorgeous, but I don’t love her body. I mean, it is a major plus…but I love the little things. Like the way her entire body smiles, not just her face. And how her nose twitches when she’s frustrated. I love how she virtually listens to music 24/7.

  And most of all, I love how shy she is now, blushing, when I was kissing up her leg just last night, even though I haven’t replied.

  “Noah, you aren’t exactly discreet, you know,” she tells me, gripping my white button-down shirt’s collar. She tugs, and a smile tips her full lips upward, blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I’ll keep in mind how this dress turns you on.”

  “How’d you—”

  “I’m connected to you; I know everything you’re feeling…” She pauses. “That and I can feel your arousal against me.”

  “Oh.” I rub my neck, embarrassed.

  She laughs low. “I’ll be right back.” She backs away from me, lips curved in a mischievous grin.

  “Take your time,” I tell her earnestly. I’ve been waiting four months; I’m sure I can wait a few more minutes. But of course she takes this as, like, me discreetly pleading for time to get rid of my…manly friend downstairs and grins like I just told her she could reign over the planet for a day. There’s no doubt she’d rule it a law for every person to listen to Nirvana and Nirvana only.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I mutter, cheeks hotter than the sun.

  She taps my nose with a wink. “Sure you didn’t, babe.” And then, as I’m rolling my eyes, she turns on her heels and leaves.

  I stand here for a few moments, totally and completely hazy. Is this reality or a dream? I need to know for sure, so I pinch my arm and gasp in pain…then smile so big my ears ache.

  This is real, and I don’t know how to not throw a quick celebratory party, streamers and banners and all. I’ve just spent so long dreaming—literally dreaming—of this moment. Where I could let out a breath and it wouldn’t be forced and chalky, but free of all of the pent-up pain and frustration.

  Grinning like the Cheshire cat who just got laid, I strip off my dress shirt, tie, and pants. I kick off my loafers and go barefoot. I can’t explain to you how much I despise loafers and how expensive they are. I neatly pack them in my suitcase along with my suit; I plan to donate them or give them away. Hell, I’ll give away all of my suits and cuff-links while I’m at it.

  During my months of absolute hell without my girl, I felt numb and bland, which made it almost disgustingly easy for my father to finally train me for his position, like he had tried so many times before. I usually would have put up a fight, but I thought I had lost her forever and thought why not? Well, now that I have her back in my life, I’m thinking, Why the hell am I not on the phone resigning?

  But then I think of why I’m not quitting my shitty job, being under his even shittier thumb. Red works for him. For some strange reason I have yet to figure out, she does, and I don’t want to upset him, because what if he gets so angry he fires her just to get back at me? I know she’s there because she has something over his head, but what if losing his son to rule over his empire in the future overcomes whatever that thing is?

  I can’t quit, I decide, and so I will have to endure this for the rest of my life until his cuts short and the torch is passed onto me. Or at least until the sword hanging over his head is let go by Red. In my head, she’s holding onto a string that has a shiny sword over his gray head, and he’s looking for me, begging for my help, but I only smile when that sword splits into him. Graphic and emotionless on my part, but hey, it’s only metaphorical, right?

  A few minutes after Red leaves, I’m wearing an unbuttoned red-and-orange Hawaiian shirt and a pair of white cargo shorts. I slip into black flip-flops then slide on a pair of Ray-Bans. I grab my phone and keycard before leaving the room. A pair of girls donned in shorts and bikini tops eyes me with lusty eyes as I make my way to Red’s room, but I barely notice them. How can I when I have one girl on my mind—my girl.

  I gently knock on her door, leaning on the pane. A minute passes before the door flings open and reveals her, clad in a red bikini top with a sheer black shawl covering her chest. She’s wearing tiny jean shorts and cute black flip-flops. All she’s missing is a pair of black shades…oh, would you look at that! I slipped a pair in my pocket.

  “Hey there, cutie.” I smile and put the glasses on her face. I expect her to slap my hand away or insult me in some way like she usually does, but she just laughs and steps out of her room, locking the door behind her.

  “Cutie?” she questions, eyebrows raising.

  “Just stating facts.” I take her hand, and she just stares up at me. “I’m not stealing you away. Jeez, give me some credit.”

  Her gaze is skeptical even behind her shades. “Then where are we going?”

  “Somewhere totally magical,” I tell her vaguely, hoping to keep it a surprise.

  But that doesn’t mean she stops nagging me for the location or promising me kisses in return for the information. I let her plant tiny, sweet kisses on my cheek, but I don’t tell her anything. And she acts shocked every single time. I just laugh and hold her hand, the other steering the wheel up to the mountains. She grows quiet after a while, and it’s just us and the warm breeze and the festive music coming from the natives.

  “Noah—” she begins as the car pulls to a stop near a hidden trail.

  “Shhh, my love, we’re here.” I silence her with a finger over her parted full lips. Her eyes plead for me to let her talk, but no more talking from her. I’ve heard enough from her to put my heart in a coma. It’s time to wake it up. So I get out and help her out even though she’s already got one foot out. That doesn’t stop me from bowing like the gentlemen I am and holding my hand out for her.

  Giggling yet hesitant, she takes my hand, and I lean over and kiss her ear. She eyes me as I pull her to a path I followed when I was here once. It was a long time ago, and I didn’t spend much time, but I did find out about this place after a drunken night with a girl that grew up here. My gut wrenches at the thought of being with another girl, and another after that, and so on. It seems impossible now that I’m with Red. All I can see is her.

  We stomp past brushes and overgrown palm trees, and I hold her hand the whole time. She keeps up pace impressively enough. I’ve trekked through the Amazon Rainforest. I went in excited for a day of hiking and capturing photos and came out with one snake bite, several scratches from branches that literally fought back, and no photos. That didn’t stop me from hiking through other tough forests. The rush of adrenaline pulled me back each time, and every time I came out with more knowledge.

  “You know, once when I was hiking through the Amazon Rainforest, I beheaded an anaconda that was chasing my group,” I tell her as we’re nearing the hidden place few know about.

  “Bullshit,” she says with a curious eye squint; she can’t really tell if I’m telling the truth or not.

  “Total BS,” I admit. I would be the first to die. I may know which spiders are and aren’t poisonous, but I wouldn’t know how to kill an anaconda.

  “Should have known, as if you could kill an anaconda,” she huffs with a mischievous grin. My stomach does flips, and I playfully growl and pull her into my side.

  After a few minutes of walking through the peaceful whirlwind of birds chattering and the sunlight pee
king through the tall trees, we emerge into what I wanted to show her: a massive waterfall feeding into a clear body of water. There are vibrant flowers and a maze-like cave beyond the rocks inside of the waterfall.

  “Wow, this is beautiful,” she breathes, and I smile.

  “Aw, thanks! That’s so sweet.” I twirl a short piece of my hair, batting my eyelashes.

  She looks up at me and rolls her eyes. “I didn’t mean you, prep.”

  “I am so hurt!” I gasp and listen to her laugh softly. I fall in love with every light freckle that lights up on her straight nose, swimming in her little dimple, before I pull my shirt off and toss it to the ground. I toe off my flip-flops.

  “Why are you undressing?” she asks, taking a step back.

  I unbutton my cargo shorts, leaving me in red-and-white plaid boxers, smirking at her wide eyes and bitten lip. I love how she doesn’t even try to hide her arousal of my half-naked self. “We’re going swimming in the fountain of love, mi rossa.”

  “It’s more of a waterfall…” she sasses.

  “A waterfall we’re getting in.” I pull my shorts down my toned legs, and her eyes watch me intently, hands on her curvy hips. I laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of some water.” I bend over and scoop some of the warm water in my hands. I raise my brows as I begin stalking over to her.

  Her eyes widen, and she holds up a finger. “You better not, Noah…”

  “What do you mean?” I ask innocently before tossing the water in her face.

  She gasps, and I laugh as her face heats up. “You’re asking for it.” Her hands move to her black shawl, and my laughter picks up as I step into the shallow part. As I step in farther, I test out the water, and it feels heavenly. I turn around, and a hungry growl itches my mouth. She’s down to her tiny red bikini bottom that shows off her slender, tanned legs. And her top is so small, her creamy breasts are almost spilling out of them.

  “Babe, I think you bought this a size too small,” I half-tease as she steps into the water cautiously. I walk over to her, holding out a hand. Her face is scrunched up, still pissed about me splashing her. So I splash myself, and her eyes spark with light, lips curling into a soft smile. I mirror her and wrap my arms around her, gently pulling her in, my hands possessively tight, her long, tight body pressed to me.

 

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