Red: Fiery Finale (Spectrum Series Book 8)

by Allison White

God, he tastes so good.

  “I love you,” I whisper against his mouth.

  “And I love you,” he grumbles, all smiley like.

  Strawberry vodka, good touch. His mouth is warm and inviting, and I don’t ever want to leave. I bite his lip, and he groans and pulls me up on the counter, him between my open legs. His large hands roam around my ass, and I almost reach for the hem of his shirt when I realize we’re in the middle of a crowded room. As drunk and unaware they are, I won’t share the sight of his glorious, hard, lean body with these people.

  He’s mine. My safety, my love, my home.

  “Dance with me, Rossa?” he croons against my open mouth.

  I rake my nails against his back, and he snarls and bites my lip. I moan. “I love it when you call me that.” Seriously. I came an extra three times this morning when he called me that as he fucked me. Fuck, do I love fucking him.

  He smirks, and I swear he hears my thoughts, because he growls, “Later, my love.”

  Just fucking collect my remains, please. I’m a goner for my sexy, sweet man.

  I purr and peck his mouth. “I wanna dance.”

  “Of course.” He helps me down off the counter and leads us into one of the living rooms. Rich pricks…what’s the point of more than one living room? I roll my eyes, but my sour thoughts vanish the second he holds my waist.

  I hold intense eye contact with him as I begin to dance. My hips sway left and right and around and around. I’m twirling around him, grinding against him, but in actually effective way. These bitches are just shaking their ass like there’s a beehive attached they’re trying to shake off. No. I take my time and play with my hair. He grows hard, painfully hard. I moan and continue to dance against him, against my sweet boy.

  “Keep doing that, baby,” he whispers darkly in my ear, and I smirk.

  “Like this?” I bite my lip and rock my ass against his front. He moans and nods against me. He leans down and kisses my neck. His mouth is wet and makes me swallow, hard. It becomes hard to breathe, and I feel drowsy, but the good kind. I feel…sedated, happy, at peace.

  The song switches, messing with my sensual dancing, but it’s okay; it was getting a bit too intense. And I mean the kind of intense that made me want to fuck him right there in the middle of living room. One of the living rooms…pricks.

  We dance around, and I can’t stop laughing. He’s a bad dancer, not Majesty level, but he’s close. His long, strong limbs are all over the place, and he’s bouncing his shoulder. I cannot take either of them anywhere, can I?

  I love this man, I think as he spins me around and around. I’m laughing so much my head may roll off my body. My heart feels so full, so precious, so savored. I can’t get enough of him. He spins me into his body, and I smile at him with a heart so heavy with love, I need to kiss him.

  So I do.

  I’m against his chest, back to his front, rocking back and forth to some stupid pop song, when I hear the screeching before the whore.

  “So this is still a thing?”

  I open my once dazed closed eyes to find Ian and the B-girl. What’s her name again? Eh, I didn’t care too much to remember, still don’t know.

  Noah’s sighing and talking gently to her, but I’m too pissed. I snap over his words. He’s too nice sometimes.

  “What the hell do you want?” I bark with a heavy slur. I don’t want them ruining this between Noah and me. We’re really enjoying ourselves. I won’t let some bitch ruin it because she’s jealous.

  “This should be fun…” Ian murmurs with a smirk, taking a sip of his canned beer.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Fuck off, Ian.” I roll my eyes.

  “Hey! Don’t talk to my man like that. We’re dating,” Brenda or whatever her fucking name is says, batting her false eyelashes. She bats them any harder they’ll fly away.

  “Whoopdie fucking doo. The two sluts are a couple. Who would have seen that couple?” I drawl in a monotone voice, arms crossed.

  Barbarian seethes. “You’re the one to talk.” A smirk drags her injected glossy lips upward. “Didn’t you use to screw him and some other guy? What was his name? Tyler? Tobias? Tanner? Oh, wait…knowing how you spread your legs for any guy with a leather jacket and track record, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was all of them.”

  I begin to shake with anger that demands to be released, but it can’t be. Not in front of Noah. Sure, I’ve snapped here and there in front of him, but this can’t be one of those times. Not with this piece of trash. I’m surprised her skirt is lower than her IQ. I keep doing this, making fun of her in my mind to restrain myself, but she’s really making it freaking fucking hard as she steps forward and continues her verbal assault.

  “You’re even worse of a person than I thought; you’re with Noah.” She gestures to him, drowning out his demands for her to shut the fuck up, but in his polite way. Stupid polite handsome boy. “You and I know damn well he’s too good for you. How did you pull him in? Spread your legs a little further, promise him a cut of his own damn money you stole?” she barks, and I freeze.

  How does she know about that? Noah wouldn’t tell people that…would he?

  I look up at him, baffled. “You told people?”

  He looks down at me, guilty yet confused. “No…only a few close friends. Maybe one of them talked…” He rubs his head, his eyes; they’re sort of bloodshot from the alcohol.

  “Bullshit! Mike and Ty wouldn’t, and those are the only close friends I know about,” I shout.

  He opens his mouth, but then he bites his lip and goes off into deep thought, coming to the same drunken conclusion.

  “It was that bitch, Rochelle!” Or whatever the fuck her name is!

  “Possibly, or—” he begins.

  “Does it matter who told?” Brenda, or whatever her fucking name is, snaps. “Point is you’re a horrible fucking person.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” I grin sarcastically at her. In reality, I’m this close to socking her, making her bleed, stomping on her plastic fucking face.

  “Okay.” She matches my smile and makes the mistake of sweetly, saying, “Noah’s better off with me. He really did seem to enjoy our night together. You know, the one where I was riding his—”

  My fist stings before I even comprehend anything. People are screaming and cheering, and the music is loud, too loud. Blood splatters on my face, and my fist really fucking hurts. And then I look down and realize I’m beating the absolute shit out of her.

  She whines and complains about her broken nose, and my face twists, and I pull my fist back to hit her again, but I’m yanked off. Thrown over a shoulder. We’re moving fast, and I’m screaming bloody murder.

  “Put me down, Noah! I wanna rip her fucking fake-ass fucking hair out with my fists!” I cry, beating on his strong back. “Whoa,” I murmur as the liquor swooshes down to my head and my vision becomes blurry.

  “Red, please calm down. Red, just chill out!” he demands, but I can’t stop screaming my fucking head off. He walks into some room and closes the door. A bathroom. The minute he puts me down, I launch into his chest for the door, but his large, lanky body is blocking it. Damn it!

  “No! I can’t!” I slur too heavily. I can’t see. I lean against the sink, palms sinking into my eyes. “She said…those fucking…” I can’t even think straight. Why did I hit her again? Was it her target of a fat-ass nose?

  “Deep breaths, Red. Calm, deep—” he instructs, slurring, gesturing with his hands.

  I push him away. “You fucked her!” How did Noah ever have the stomach to sleep with that crazy bitch?

  He swallows, and his cheeks grow red. “Yes, but that was before I knew you, really knew you—”

  “Fuck you!” I hit his chest. Even though he must have been drunk on rocket fuel to fuck that broad.

  “Red! Stop hitting me!” He grabs my wrists, baring his teeth.

  “No! You fucking fucked!” I insist.

  “Stop it, you’re d
runk out of your—” he begins, eyes shut to most likely keep himself calm.

  “You fucked her!” I scream on the top of my lungs. Oh my God, shut the hell up, me!

  “Do you want me to fuck you then?” he snaps, and I’m so taken aback by his hostile tone and his serious expression, I stare up at him wide-eyed.

  “W-what?” I stammer, but on the inside, I’m screaming: Hell fucking yes!

  He growls and leans down to eye level; his nose is flared, lip snarling. “Since you are so fucking adamant on the fact that I screwed her way before we were a thing, I guess I’ll just have to remind you whose I am.” His hands find their way to my jean shorts, and I breathlessly help him unbutton them with a giddy smile.

  I take off my shirt, toss it to the ground. I hear the door lock.

  Playing coy yet drunk AF, I shrug. “I guess you’ll have to…”

  He smirks and turns me around sharply. I’m still so shocked by his suddenly sexy-as-fuck dominance that I grin in the wide mirror as he pulls my shorts down. I briefly hear him pull his own shorts down.

  I’m frantically searching for a condom in the drawer closest to me when his hands yank down my bikini bottom. I gasp as his warm mouth kisses me, and I mean really kisses me.

  “Oh, Noah. Please. I need—fuck.” I roll my head and force myself to find a condom. I grasp the golden packet tightly in my fist as he kisses me passionately, like he would with the lips on my face. I feel myself nearing a quick orgasm, and I scream his name when I climax. That was the quickest I’ve ever came, but how could I possibly not when with a mouth like that pressed against me?

  He throws his shirt to the ground. I hand him the condom and watch him tear it open using his teeth. Watching him do that alone preps me for another mind-blowing climax.

  “Maybe after this you’ll understand I am all yours…” He drags his hard cock against me, coating himself. “And you. Are. All. Mine. Hmmm?” he teases as he ever so slowly pushes his way into me. He’s so big, so greedy…the seconds take too long for me to fit him. He pushes all the way in, and I gasp and close my eyes from the pleasure building up in my stomach.

  “No,” he says and reaches around to cup my chin. His thumb taps my heated skin. “Eyes open,” he demands, and my eyes fly open, and I watch myself bite my lip as he pulls out and slams into me, jerking me forward against the cold sink. “Watch me fuck you. You look so fucking hot.” My breasts are spilling out of my small red bikini top, my hair already messy.

  His thrusts are slow and demanding—fucking hot as ever. He’s making love to me, and I love it, but I need faster, I need to see him burst out of his cute bubble and fuck me like this morning.

  “Fuck—harder, Noah. Please—ah!” I yelp loudly, and I swear I lose my senses for a few seconds as he slams into me over and over again. “Oh, fuck!” My hair falls over my face, and I quickly brush it away and bite my lip, rolling my head in contentment.

  He’s hitting right where I need him, pushing and pulling and fucking slamming—right where I need him. The sound of our skins slapping against each other while the music goes on outside, muffled and vibrating against the walls, against the sink—it makes this even more taboo and sexy.

  He is so goddamn sexy. He’s biting his lips, strong hands pulling at my hips as he fucks me. His muscles ripple and constrict under his tanned, hard skin. I think I have a mini-climax just watching him fuck me. He is too damn beautiful, too alluring—it’s so hard to fucking breathe.

  “Right there, Noah. Right—right there,” I encourage him and pant and rock my hips against him, rolling and bouncing, just like when we were dancing. We’re dancing this hot, commanding dance, and this feels so damn good.

  “Fuck, yes, baby. Just like that. You feel so fucking great, baby.” He swallows and watches himself fuck me.

  I smirk, but it falls as I cry out, reaching my climax. “Fuck! Keep going!”

  He pounds harder and stares into my eyes through the mirror. He wets his lips with his tongue before leaning down. I turn my head, and our mouths collide into a hot kiss filled with my moans and cries. He pulls away and grips my hair.

  “Fuck!” he curses as he slams into me one last time, eliciting a scream from me, as he releases. He feels so heavy inside of me, I smile and lean against the sink, dazed and full of pleasure. He thrusts a few more times, and I moan softly, head lulling to the side, a satisfied grin on my sweaty face, before he slowly pulls out.

  But it isn’t over so soon.

  He pulls me around, sets me to sit on the counter, him coming between my legs. He slams into me, and I gasp and cry out as he pounds into me. “All…mine,” he demands and bites my lower lip, sucks, pulls me into a soul-branding kiss.

  “All…yours. All yours, Noah,” I whisper and cry as he brings me to a climax.

  And another.

  And another.

  And a-fucking-nother.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The last week has been heaven. Red officially moved all of her stuff into the condo, even her silly cat alarm clock that meows as the alarm sound. As quirky and heart-achingly cute as it is, I definitely did not expect her to own it, but she told me she bought it spontaneously at some thrift shop and that it could get me up in the morning. According to her, I’m a hard person to wake up, and admittedly I have been smashing my fist after the first annoying meow.

  She’s frightfully clever, but I always wake up to her amused smile. So I would say waking up at the crack of dawn—eight in the morning—is most definitely worth the heavy eyelids and groggy muscles. I wrap my arms around her and stare at her openly. She usually scrunches her button nose and whines about me brushing my teeth, but I just laugh and cup her face and tell her how much I love her and that she’s living with me.

  “Get used to it,” I murmur and kiss her red nose. I often tease and call her a much cuter Rudolph. She just rolls her baby-blue eyes, and before I can tease her about her large eyes, she shuts me up with a kiss. And I know kissing before brushing your teeth is disgusting, makes people uncomfortable…but fuck them. She tastes perfect around the clock, especially in my arms, in my bed, in our bed.

  Ugh.

  I still can’t wrap my mind around it; we live together now. Sure, she was hesitant at first and thought it wasn’t necessary, but damn it if she seems more than okay with it. In fact, I caught glances of her smiling when we’re doing the simple things, like watching a stupid, cheap movie or cooking dinner or talking over coffee in the morning.

  It’s the small moments like that that turns me into a puddle, weak-kneed. I have never felt this in love; it’s driving me crazy. She’s driving me crazy.

  My face cracks into a large grin the same time I crack an egg on the side of the pan. I had plans for it to actually get in the pan, but it apparently has other plans. I catch it before it can meet the stove and huff out a huge breath. I’m trying and failing to make Red breakfast this morning because today is a very big day.

  I bet you’ll never guess what today is.

  Trust me—you won’t get it…

  Okay, I’ll say it: today’s her twenty-second birthday!

  My weirdly shaped pancakes seem to squeal with popping noises. Wait…is that normal? For pancakes to form bubbles? I lean over to examine the thing and pop back when it flies up at me. Evil pancake, evil freaking pancake!

  I quickly toss them in the garbage and groan. “Fuck, that was the last box…” of five, I want to add, but it’s depressing enough talking to myself.

  Who would have figured it’d be hard to cook breakfast?

  Anyway, today is my girl’s freaking birthday! I know she doesn’t like it, but I thought a nice breakfast would put a smile on her usually cranky morning face; she isn’t much of a morning person. I have a whole lot planned even though she profoundly expressed she hates her birthday.

  I guessed because it was around the time her mother was killed, but she insisted it’s just another day. I guffawed like my father’s snooty friends I despise. Guffawed so da
mn loudly.

  Her birthday is not just another damn day; it is the day. The day she was born and graced this freaking planet with herself. I may or may not have thanked her parents for creating her at the stroke of midnight while she was knocked out beside me. This day should be celebrated around the whole damn world. She should be visited by everyone and presented with gifts like the damn goddess she is.

  Which is why, to avoid her spending her birthday in the hospital with food poisoning, I opt for pre-made French toast, some of her favorite cereal, and fruits. She seems to like this better than my breakfast anyhow.

  I place two glasses of OJ, one for her and the other for me, and pick up the tray. I feel giddy about today and the things I have planned. But I stop bouncing on my heels when the spoons rattle against the cereal bowls. I cannot fuck up this breakfast too…so I stop and slowly pad the rest of the way to the bedroom—to our bedroom.

  Ughhhh, that feels so good to say.

  “Happy…” My excited voice quiets down when I open the door and notice she’s out on the balcony. And on the phone. Out of respect, I walk over to the glass doors and nudge the tiny gap open with my foot. I set the tray on the glass table between the two patio chairs and plop onto the one next to her.

  “Yeah…I understand that…but just fucking listen to me!” she snaps, and I grab her free hand that’s curled with imaginary claws. I gently take it in mine, silently swivel my chair around to sit next to her. I drop my head on her shoulder, and the tension in her slowly fades away until she calmly ends the call with whoever’s on the other end.

  She drops her phone in her bare lap, and I raise a brow.

  “Who was that?” I ask curiously.

  Her teeth sink into her lower lip. “My sister…” I sense a hostile tone and decide to back off.

  “I’d like to meet her one day. And your grandpa. From what you tell me, he’s a kind man, and your sister is…” I recall her seething into the phone and how close she was to tossing her phone over the railing.

  She looks at me, smirking, challenging me.