Red: Fiery Finale (Spectrum Series Book 8)

by Allison White

  She shifts underneath me, and I still, not wanting to wake her. She looks too peaceful for me to disturb her. Memories of last night storm over me, and I groan again. I need to get up and make breakfast; I’m starving, and I think she might be hungry when she wakes up. I carefully lift her and stand up then place her on a heap of pillows and cover her with the thick comforter.

  I squat and thumb her cool cheeks. They were burning hot last night; her whole body was. But the second she plastered herself to me and slowly cooled down, she was fine again. It was like I was her remedy for whatever nightmare she was suffering. My heart aches for her, and I stare at her for a few moments before pressing a tender kiss on her cheek.

  I leave her and pad into the kitchen, wearing only my boxers and messy bed-head. I don’t know shit about cooking—I usually just order pizza or takeout—but I’ll try anything for her. It takes half an hour of coughing because of smoke from scorching a batch of pancakes. I would actually like to give her breakfast, so I save my life and the plenty others in this building—including her—and settle for two bowls of cereal.

  Putting away the Lucky Charms, I turn around and place the pristine white bowls on a black tray. I had no idea it existed, but to be fair, that goes for most of the things in the kitchen. Anyway, I plop two bananas, a bowl of mixed fruits, and two tall glasses of orange juice onto the tray and walk back to my room.

  She’s sitting up against the headboard when I walk in.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” I croon, my voice deep from sleep. My eyes are groggy, and I blink slowly with a wide grin as I walk over to her. I sit beside her small feet, and she draws her knees up to her chest.

  “Morning,” she says quietly, bright eyes watching me tentatively. Her voice is stormy, and her full lips are pulled down in a cute pout. Aw, she’s disoriented when she wakes up. Is she usually like this, or is it because of last night?

  Heart clenching, I maintain my smile and hold the tray out for her. “I got you cereal. I didn’t know which is your favorite—”

  “Cocoa Puffs,” she answers and takes the tray. She stretches out her long, slender, bare legs. She looks stunning in one of my shirts; it’s oversized on her. I’m close enough to smell myself on the shirt that clings around her slim body, and the primal satisfaction that the smell will linger around her, marking her as mine, makes me smile at her.

  She looks up at me, mid-chew, and twists up her mouth. “Why’re you smiling at me like that?” A small trail of milk slowly slides down her chin, and I reach out and wipe it away using my thumb. Her eyes lighten, and she bats her eyelashes in an innocuous gesture…I shift on the bed as my boxers grow a tad tight. She smirks, and I narrow my eyes at her. What a little minx.

  “You just look extremely divine in my shirt.” I smirk.

  She snorts, picking up a glass of OJ. “Divine?”

  “Common words like hot or sexy aren’t enough to describe you, Red,” I say in a voice that isn’t mine. It’s too low, too raspy, too…lusty.

  She merely smiles at me, and it’s too innocent to hold back my groan. “Oh, am I? Am I divine, Noah?” The words roll off her tongue like honey running down fine silk. Her foot brushes my hand that’s holding me up on the bed and glides against my bare thigh. Every inch her cute little toes makes me harder and harder, makes it damn hard to breathe.

  “Stop it.” I grab her foot. “It’s too early to make me feel this way.”

  “What way?” She sets the tray on the table beside the bed and crawls onto my lap. She can feel my hard on; I know she can. Can hear it as she gasps and rolls her hips on me, whispers in my ear, “Do you mean this way?” and expertly rocks her body against me. I buck against her instinctively, and she laughs low. I blush, and my face is pressed against her chest.

  “Red…” I warn, and I gently grab her thighs. But I lose all gentleness when she moans my name and swivels her hips around. I stupidly imagine she’s wearing red lingerie for some reason, and my boner is impossible, and my breathing quickens.

  “Noah…” she mocks. Her voice is lower, and her sexy movements are slow and deliberate. I sense the need to distract me, to turn me on, to make me forget—but forget what?

  “Last night,” I blurt out, and she stops all movement. I take advantage of her quietness. “You woke up screaming and crying and, and…what did you dream that made you act like that?” I look up at her. Her face is blank, and she sits beside me and grabs a banana.

  “Nothing,” she lies. I can see it, the wall masking her emotions, and hear the lock twisting inside of her, shutting herself away from me. Too bad I have a trusty sledgehammer, a backup key, and a trusty dimpled smile.

  “Please, Red…” I try again.

  “I don’t…want to talk about it,” she insists around an air of pain that grabs at my heart, makes it hard to breathe.

  I scoot over to her and drop my head onto her shoulder. “You know you can tell me anything, Red. Right?” I take her free hand, and she takes a wordless bite of her banana. She ends up spitting it out, mumbling how she doesn’t even like the fruit. “Then why’d you take a bite?” I laugh lightly in an attempt to coax her out from behind her wall, but she just shrugs and plays with my hands.

  A few moments pass before I quietly ask her, “Does it have something to do with your past?” I don’t expect her to answer; she has been incredibly secretive about her past, well, about the bad stuff anyhow. More specifically about her mother, but I understand that part. She was murdered, and Red grew up tough without her mother in her life. She can stay silent about that if she chooses…but there is something crucial she’s leaving out, and I want to know what so I can help her if it’s even possible.

  “I had a step-father,” she surprises me by saying. I stare up at her, and she stares down at me, plops her hand on her hair. She closes her eyes, and her fingers twist through my curly hair that is long over-due for a cut, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Actually, her playing with my hair seems to help her say what she needs.

  “He was a douche, an asshole, the minute she brought him in like a damn stray dog. He took over the crappy apartment, made himself fucking king and we were his peasants.” Anger pushes through the thick fogs of her raspy voice, and her grip on my hair gets tighter, but I keep quiet, listen to her sigh shakily, and continue. “When he wasn’t beating on her, he was beating on me. Thank God Harls was just a baby. If he’d laid a hand on her, I would have killed him. And I’m not kidding one bit.”

  I rub her back and plaster to her side, nudging my nose against her cheek. She smiles at my gesture and holds me close. Her throat is thumping with her rapid heartbeat, and I softly kiss her nose. I want her to know she can relax around me, tell me anything this hard, this uncomfortable and triggering.

  “He abused me and my mother, bottom line. That’s it.” She swallows thickly. She’s too hurt, too wrapped up in the memories no doubt flooding across her glossy eyes, to say anything more, and I completely understand and commend her for letting me in just a tad more.

  “He won’t hurt you anymore. I promise you, Red. No more,” I say to her, and I mean it. Mean every damn syllable. I will never let anyone or anything hurt her ever again. I hold her to me as close as possible. She’s tense at first but quickly melts into my touch and breathes into my neck.

  “You have no idea how much you mean to me, Noah,” she whispers, and I freeze, caught off guard. She doesn’t usually blurt stuff out like that or hold me this tight. It makes me smile, feel satisfied to have this amazing girl as mine.

  I kiss her neck, and she giggles. I smile and do it again. “You are the absolute love of my life. You know that, don’t you?” I confess whole-heartedly, and she stiffens, blushes. I pull back and cup her warm, chubby cheeks. Her face scrunches together, and I laugh when she playfully criss-crosses her eyes.

  She is the cutest darn thing on this planet, in the damn galaxy, hell.

  I lean forward and press my lips to hers. Her fingertips drag stars down my cheeks, creates a p
ool of the universe down my spine. I moan into her mouth the same time she does, and I lift her onto my lap. I lay down slowly, her straddling me, but she doesn’t move her hips, doesn’t bite my lips or suck on one, doesn’t finger my hair or whisper naughty things in my ears, vice versa.

  The kiss is sweet and gentle pecks; it’s full of the undying love we each hold deep inside of ourselves. My heart bursts from the intensity of it all, of her, of her kiss, of her soft, sweet mouth that tastes like candy and sugar. “I love you,” I whisper with a thick voice between each teasing, beautiful peck of her mouth. She keeps moving, I have to hold her face on mine, and she giggles uncontrollably. I finally lick her upper lip, and she moans softly.

  “I love you too, Noah. More than you’ll ever know,” she says against my mouth then gently kisses my nose.

  I shudder with admiration for her, it consumes me, and I hold her to me. Innocently consumed, I hold her to me, and she holds me back. I could lay here for eternity and never want to let go. I want this girl now, tomorrow, and for the rest of my life. I just want her.

  The ringing of a phone breaks my newfound reality, the calming presence of my home, and we both groan, then laugh at our synchronization, and she reluctantly peels herself off of me. I pull her back down, though I can’t part from her. Not yet. Just a few more warm seconds. A few more moments of her whining on top of me as I pin her to me.

  “Noah, shut the annoying thing off,” she huffs but doesn’t move to free herself from my arms.

  “Fine,” I grumble and sit up, her still straddling me. I reach over and grab my phone that’s vibrating against the nightstand. It’s Mike calling, and when I answer, loud music blares, and I pull it away from my ear. What the hell?

  “Yo, Noah!” he shouts over the music.

  “Yeah? Where are you?” I scream over the loud shuffling on his end, he sounds like he’s shutting a door, and the music is snuffed out.

  “At Bryce’s…the lake party I told you about a few days ago. Are you still coming? I kinda wanted you to pick up some chips and shit on the way over…” he says, and I groan, nodding.

  “Yeah, yeah—I’ll be there soon with Red and chips in hand,” I tell him and run a hand over my hair. Red’s nimble fingers mimic me, and I smile and kiss her chest. She sighs softly, humming and playing with my hair.

  “Awesome, thanks, man.” He sighs out in relief.

  “No problem, we’ll be there soon.” To be honest, I totally blanked. I didn’t even know that was happening today, but how can I with my very own alluring distraction tracing her fingertips on my chest? Her eyebrows are raised, biting her lip with mischief dancing in her hooded eyes.

  “Or a little later…” I trail as Red grabs the hem of the oversized shirt and pull it off, revealing a red lace bra and tiny matching panties. “Yeah, a lot later.” My voice is husky as I end the call.

  “Shhh.” She pushes a finger over my mouth and pushes me back, flipping her golden hair over her shoulder. It is the hands-down sexiest thing I have ever witnessed in my twenty years of living. I fall for my gorgeous vixen again…

  And again…

  And again…

  And again until she is all I see—Red, the beautiful, the epitome of ultimate sin.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I. Can’t. Stop. Freaking. Smiling.

  After our time in the bedroom, we left for the lake, but I couldn’t stop freaking smiling. My cheeks are scorching from how wide my mouth conquers the space on my face.

  “Would you stop smiling?” she says and yanks on my hand that’s holding hers, the other on the steering wheel.

  I glance at her. “Says the one grinning from ear to ear,” I tease her and her equally bright smile. She blushes like a blooming rose and looks out the window like she’s embarrassed, but she shouldn’t be. My heart’s singing because she’s just as ecstatic as me. That and she is so goddamn beautiful.

  She’s wearing a white off-the-shoulder top and high-waisted jeans and sandals, her hair in loose waves. I have never seen her look this fucking gorgeous before. She’s always worn all black, and I love her any freaking way; she can wear a freaking dirty potato sack and I’d praise her like the goddess she is, but with her curly hair swaying in the air, her skin glowing under the spring sun, and her cheeks pink and tattoos mesmerizing…I fall a little bit more for my beautiful girl.

  “Are you sure you want to go?” I ask, turning down the radio to hear her answer. “If you’re not up for it, we can just watch a movie, grab some pizza to eat or something?” I suggest.

  After what happened last night, I’m more than a little hesitant in taking her out. She needs to rest, if anything, not party. Now that I’m thinking about it, I really feel like an idiot. What if she actually does have a head injury and she passes out? Does the cut on her lip hurt too much? Should her feet be elevated?

  Her hand gripping mine slows my frantic thoughts and calms me with a gentle smile. “I think I can handle a couple of jocks and some water,” she teases. I sneak a daring look at the red bikini straps. God, how I love that bikini on her…“Eyes on the road before we have bigger issues.”

  “What? Oh, sorry!” I flush and force my eyes back to the matter at hand. She gives a light, breezy laugh beside me, and I gawk at her for a few stolen moments as she focuses on our hands, linked and different in size.

  “I can’t help that your beauty takes my breath away,” I rasp and gauge her reaction.

  A smile dances on her feminine lips. She sucks on them and remains quiet the rest of the short drive.

  A few minutes later, we stroll up a trail and stop when a group of people run alongside the car. I wait for them to run by, kind of impressed yet horrified that it’s almost two, yet people are getting drunk out of their minds. I drive along the trail until we arrive at an enormous cabin. The architecture is impressive, with high sleek windows and wooden paneling.

  “Of course the fucker’s loaded,” Red mumbles as I help her out. I close the door behind her and lock it.

  “His parents are, not him,” I tell her. She just scoffs and wraps an arm around my lower back.

  “Bet he walks around like he is, though,” she says, and I kiss her cheek.

  “Let’s go find Mike and the others.” I grab the chips and the case of Bud Lights before grabbing her hand again and leading her into the home. There aren’t that many people since the party starts in a few hours, but there are a good amount running around and dancing to music blasting out back.

  After looking around for them, we find Mike, Ty, Rachel, and a few other guys on the lacrosse team talking by the massive in-ground pool. Trees line the backyard and the rest of the home, giving the place a cozy, secluded feel. I spot a dirt trail and a couple running along it, venturing into the woods. I’m guessing there’s a pot of gold at the end of the trail…

  “Hey, you made it!” Mike greets and gives me a bro hug.

  “I said we were on our way.” I smile, and Ty walks up, and we do our stupid handshake we made up a long way back. I burst into laughter and have one of the guys take the stuff I brought.

  “Yeah, like, two hours ago. What held you guys up?” Ty wiggles his eyebrows and winks at Red, who straight up punches his arm. “Ouch! Fuck me!”

  “Hey, she’s mine.” I pull her to my side and kiss her ear possessively but also playfully. She rolls her eyes but can’t hide her blush as the guys laugh.

  I’m glad they aren’t making a big scene about her bruise or her cut; I told them what happened over the phone, and they expressed how pissed they were and offered to join me on a witch hunt, but Red doesn’t even want to talk about it. So I asked them not to mention it or she’d be uncomfortable.

  “What happened to your face?” Rachel asks in a genuinely curious voice.

  Shit. I should have passed the message onto her.

  Red stiffens next to me. “Tripped,” she lies, and the guys’ smiles don’t twitch, impressively enough.

  Rachel gasps. “That’s so terrible
to hear…” She bites her lips, and her head tilts as her doe-brown eyes take in my girl’s face. “You must have hit the ground pretty hard.”

  Beside me, Red growls under her breath, but I tighten my hold on her just the slightest before she can go off on Rachel. I don’t like how she’s talking to her, but she sounds genuine enough. Maybe Red’s just being her usual irritable self…

  Rachel smiles up at me. “So…did you guys bring any swimsuits? We were thinking of heading to the lake nearby. It’s, like, five minutes away.”

  “Yeah…” I groan when I realize I forgot something. “I forgot the towels in the car.” I look at Red, and she stares up at me. “Mind going with them? I’ll be quick. I just gotta go grab them.”

  “Just hurry up.” Leaning in, she jokingly whispers, “You know how I don’t like some people.”

  “I heard that!” Mike gasps.

  I smile and kiss her lips, and they groan and whine about PDA, but I couldn’t give less of a shit. I just can’t get enough of my girl. She tastes like heaven, like perfection. Oh, enough with the cheesiness. I pull away reluctantly, biting my lip.

  “I’ll be there faster than you can say—” I begin, voice husky.

  “BITCH!” a familiar, loud voice cuts me off, and we both turn around to find Majesty running toward us. The second she’s close enough, she tackles Red in a hug before hauling her and the others to the trail.

  Smiling from ear to ear, I turn and start for the car. I can’t believe how well things are between Red and me again. What happened before we came here blew my freaking mind, how quickly we mold into each other and how easy it is to be myself around her. She is amazing, makes me feel amazing. I don’t say this word often, but she is the loveliest girl I have had the pleasure of knowing. I know how pussy I sound…but I’m glad I have her.

  Towels in hand, I walk along the deserted trail…apart from the couple trying to eat each other’s soul via mouth against a tree up ahead. I laugh at how hungry they are to tear at each other’s clothes and wonder if they even know each other. Not that I’m saying there’s something wrong with acting out on lust.