Finding Truth

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Finding Truth Page 19

by Ripley Proserpina


  With his eyes closed, he could focus on the sensation of her touch. Cool hands cupped his face, and she slowed his kiss, brushing her lips against his. Tentatively, she touched her tongue right below his bottom lip and curled it upward. With a groan, he held her tighter, and forced his tongue past her lips.

  Reaching for her knee, he encouraged her to wrap her legs around him, but she didn’t. Instead, she slowed, easing away from him until he was panting, and let her feet drop to the floor. Belatedly, he remembered his friend, but they were alone in the hall.

  “Sorry.” It hadn’t been his intention to embarrass Seok, or Nora, but as soon as he’d held her in his arms, there was only the two of them.

  “It’s okay,” she said, running the pad of her thumb over his lips.

  As her hand fell, he licked his lips to see if he could taste her. The workshop door shut, and then loud, deliberate steps started toward them. “You done?” Seok asked, smirking from the dining room.

  Nora’s cheeks flushed, but Matisse only returned his grin. “For now.”

  “I take it we don’t all need computers anymore?” Seok asked.

  “I don’t think so.” He glanced at Nora and felt his smile turn from shit-eating to proud. “Notre belle fille figured it out.” Clearing his throat, he shifted his attention to Seok. “But just to be careful, let’s back up your files, reset it, and be careful about what we do. No weird Korean porn.”

  “Matisse,” Seok warned, but his cheeks were red.

  Nora snickered, and Matisse winked. “I’m kidding.”

  “Are you going out?” she asked, trying to smother her smile in a way which left her fish-faced.

  He had been, but now he didn’t need to. Everything was better now—his problem was solved. “Non. I’ll restore my computer, and yours, if you want.”

  “It’s Apollo’s.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “We should probably ask him in case there are things he hasn’t saved.”

  “It won’t take long, but you could keep me company.” As he spoke, Nora flitted a gaze to Seok, but his friend said nothing.

  “Or…” Matisse went on, “I can work in the basement while you help Seok.”

  Her face cleared, and she nodded. Mentally, he patted himself on the back for decoding what both his friend and Nora needed.

  The rest of the afternoon was spent in the workshop, trying not to sneeze. Nora was fucking adorable, wearing eye protection and giant earmuffs. It took him a lot less time than he expected to restore his computer, though he decided to wait on the antivirus software. For now, all he needed was a working computer. His glorified word processor had barely shut before Seok handed him sandpaper and directed him to another project.

  Side by side, wearing a pair of glasses he ran up to his room to find, the three of them toiled away. Seok blasted his music, and for the most part, each of them stayed focused on their work. It wasn’t until Cai tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to throw the sandpaper in the air, that Matisse realized how much time had passed.

  Face serious, Cai gestured to the stairs. “I need to talk to you guys.”

  Nora slid the muffs from her head and pushed the goggles up to hold her hair back like a headband. “Everything okay?”

  “I want to talk about Tyler.” He stared at the ground.

  Matisse felt a surge of protectiveness overcome him. In his mind, no one came before Nora now. He even put her before himself, which blew his mind. His friends were as close as family, but he’d shoved her higher than all of them. For the first time since he’d found his friends, he didn’t care what they needed.

  But he didn’t say what he was thinking—not yet. He’d listen to Cai, and he’d go from there. Already, though, disquiet was bubbling in his blood, amping him up to fight.

  Upstairs, he was surprised to see the rest of the guys. While he’d been occupied with Seok and Nora, they’d come home. Now, Apollo and Ryan waited for them, seated at the table, unsmiling and serious.

  Cai stood, waiting until everyone was seated. Nora was nervous. She cracked her knuckles and hunched over the table, as if she could shrink into herself. Matisse watched her and realized she looked ready to absorb a blow, whatever it would be.

  And she would take it. The girl was ready to give Cai whatever he needed, even if it hurt her.

  Fuck that.

  “Before we start—” An idea began to form in his head, and like a villain in an old movie, he would have twirled the ends of his mustache if he’d had one. “I want to let you all know I’m taking Nora away for the next couple of days.”

  Cai’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. It was the other guys who had something to say.

  “What? Why?” Ryan asked, confused.

  “Come on!” Apollo shook his head. “I never see her anyway!”

  Seok stared at him then cut his eyes toward Nora and leaned back in his chair. He understood. Matisse could see the light dawning on his face as he put together Matisse’s plan. “I’m fine with it, as long as I get to visit.”

  “We can go out to dinner. I’ll find a place with a pool. It’ll be a nice break from all the angst.” He was flying by the seat of his pants, but each word out of his mouth cemented his plan. “It’ll give Cai the space he needs with Tyler.” He gazed at his friend, urging him to agree with him. “He’s coming here, right? You wanted to run it by us?”

  Cai caught up fast. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yes. I can get him tomorrow. He’s agreed to come here. I wanted to ask Ryan to come with us to the courthouse for the medical power of attorney hearing, and then we’ll be back.”

  “How long does he need to stay?” Apollo’s tone gave away his frustration. One hand curled into a fist, while the other rubbed the back of his neck. “How long does Nora have to stay away?”

  Matisse mentally cringed. It was one thing for Nora to know she needed to leave, and another thing for her to hear it. Damn it, Apollo.

  “I don’t know,” Cai answered. “Not long, I hope. We’ll all pitch in for a hotel.”

  Matisse shook his head and took a breath, releasing it slowly. “I wanted to do something special with her anyway.” He reached for her hand and linked his fingers with hers so she looked at him. When Apollo had spoken, she’d flinched and immediately stared at the table as if she could tune out the hurt the discussion must be causing. “This is perfect.”

  She kept her eyes locked with his. Time away, just the two of them, really would be perfect. He tried to feel guilty about taking her away from the other guys, especially Apollo who struggled the most with sharing her, but he couldn’t. No doubt when Apollo had her on his own, he wasn’t feeling guilty about it either.

  “Fine,” Apollo allowed. “But I’m visiting after school and the gym. And we meet for dinner.”

  Matisse bristled at the command in his tone. But if it was the only time Apollo got, and Matisse would get the nights, he could afford to be charitable. “Of course.” Out came his phone to find a hotel next to the waterfront, and he made an online reservation in minutes. “You can find us at The Vermont,” he announced. “Nora!” He stood and gestured to the stairs like a footman. “Let’s pack!”

  After a nervous peek at all the guys, she stood. “You’re okay with this?” she asked them.

  Each of them nodded, even Apollo, who waited a hair longer than he should have.

  “Okay,” she said, slowly. “I’m going to pack.” As she walked by, she tapped Matisse on the chest. “I don’t have a bathing suit,” she told him.

  “We’ll stop somewhere.” There was no problem he couldn’t solve.

  “What about the money? You’ve been so worried about it.”

  He sighed. “Cher, I’m sorry I made you worry about money. I will make more money. We will be fine.”

  “If I can’t give Tyler what he needs,” Cai interrupted, “I’ll find a place that can. It won’t be forever. Two or three days at the most before we start looking at other options. Okay?”

  “Okay,” sh
e answered.

  “Go pack.” Matisse slapped her butt, and she jumped.

  “Fine!” With a giggle and one last glance over her shoulder, she hurried up to her room.

  The heavy thud of her feet tramped overhead, and when Matisse heard her bureau drawer open, he spoke. “Three days, Cai. Tyler doesn’t trump Nora.”

  “I know.” A chair squeaked across the floor as he dragged it back and sat down. “I need to give him a chance to feel safe. But I don’t know if I can fix what’s broken.”

  “Should he stay where he is?” Ryan asked, and Cai shook his head quickly.

  “No, Dr. Murray has been visiting. I don’t want him to have any more time alone.”

  “When do we go to the cops?” Apollo asked.

  “Good question,” Seok said. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “We have to be careful—”

  Footsteps pounded down the steps, and Nora appeared in the doorway. “I’m ready!”

  Exchanging a loaded glance with his friends, he faced Nora. “Give me five. I’ll be right back.”

  34

  Nora

  It had taken less time for Matisse to pack than it did for Nora to say goodbye to her guys. It was especially hard to hug and kiss Apollo goodbye. He smiled, but it was forced. She knew him well enough to tell he was struggling with Matisse getting her on his own for an undetermined amount of time.

  Matisse reached for her hand, holding it as he backed out of the driveway and headed toward the lake. “I’m glad to get Nora-time.”

  Shaking her head to dislodge her Apollo worries, she smiled at him. “Me, too. Where are we going?”

  “The Vermont,” he answered, weaving expertly around a bicyclist. “Room on the lake side.”

  “Won’t that be expensive?” she asked and grimaced. “Sorry. I know. No more money talk.”

  “Non, cher,” he soothed her. “Don’t apologize. But don’t worry either, okay? It’s only a few days, and there are many empty rooms. I got a deal.”

  As he drove, she studied him. He squinted at the light, his profile in relief against the driver’s window. She remembered the first time she saw Matisse and how she wasn’t sure if he was handsome or not.

  No such questions remained in her mind anymore. Even with dark circles and a shadow of stubble along his jaw, he was arresting. Later, when she had more space, she was going to trace her finger down his long nose and kiss right below his ears.

  Matisse side-eyed her, as if he could feel her watching him, and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  Blushing, she faced forward. “Nothing.”

  “Cher.” He drew out the vowel, testily.

  Covering her cheeks with her hands, she pretended to find something fascinating out the window. “Really, nothing.”

  A tug on her hand had her jerking toward him, and he kissed the back of her hand. “Okay. Keep your secrets for now. But when we get to our room, I want you to know I have plans to see if that blush covers your entire body.”

  Gulp. Her swallow was audible, and he laughed, throwing back his head. He was still chuckling when he parked the car in the underground garage of the hotel. In seconds, he was out of the car and opening Nora’s door.

  35

  Matisse

  This was where it started—the romance he’d planned since she’d put the brakes on their physical relationship and he’d decided sex would mean something.

  The hotel may have been booked this afternoon, but what he would do once he got her there had been the work of countless hours.

  Nora was nervous. Her hand, when he took it, was sweaty. Every so often, she would suck in a deep breath, like she was breathing too shallowly and needed to fill her lungs with air. Adjusting the strap for her bag on his shoulder, he squeezed her hand and rolled his luggage behind them.

  “You packed a lot of stuff,” she observed as they strode across the garage.

  “Props,” he answered, winking. The automatic doors to the hotel opened at the same time as she barked a laugh. The shiny marble floors ricocheted the sound, and she cut off quickly, screwing up her face and wincing.

  They checked in, accepted their keys, and found the elevator to their room. Matisse shifted his weight from side to side, humming and tracking the numbers as they lit up.

  “You okay?” Nora asked, and he cut off, embarrassed.

  The truth was, now that the time was here, he was afraid of fucking up. He was known for it—excelled at saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. “Fine,” he answered shortly. “Fuck!”

  “Matisse.” With one decisive move, Nora slammed the emergency stop button and threw herself at him. The bags tumbled to the ground, and he stumbled backward, hitting the rail with his ass. A sharp pain radiated along his tailbone, but he ignored it, because Nora’s hands were buried in his hair, and her tongue was in his mouth.

  In a flash, she'd wrapped her long legs around his waist, and lifted herself, squeezing his hips then releasing them to drag down his body. Tucking his hands beneath her ass, he encouraged the movement, thrusting against her. Their teeth clacked, and he could barely breathe, but he’d never felt so good.

  Nora tugged his hair to tilt his head back and scraped her teeth along his jaw. Right below his ear, she sucked his skin into her mouth and bit gently with her teeth before releasing him to trail to the other side of his face.

  “Fuck, cher.”

  She didn’t answer except to kiss him harder. The motion of her body rocked her harder along his length. His jeans were probably chafing his dick, but so what? He imagined being buried in her soft, wet heat, and it was a small price to pay for the journey he was taking to get there. The alarm blared, waves of sound that pounded against his eardrums, but he didn’t even notice it until it shut off unexpectedly and the elevator began its upward climb, stopping only when it reached their floor.

  But Nora stayed in his arms, trapping him in a brown-eyed gaze. A throat cleared, and she jumped, releasing him to slide down his body. Her face was blazing, but Matisse smugly met the angry glower of the man waiting for the elevator. Let him glare. Moments before, he’d had the most perfect girl in his arms. “L’amour,” he said as he passed. “What are you going to do?”

  Immediately, the man’s face lightened, and he laughed, shaking his head as the elevator closed between them.

  “I’m so embarrassed,” Nora whispered.

  “It’s fine.” Matisse had already dismissed him from his thoughts and was two steps ahead, thinking about how to kiss Nora and get the door to the room open. She walked fast, shoved the key into the slot and put her back to the door.

  Her smile, when it curled her lips, was wicked, and Matisse laughed. She crooked her finger at him, and though her face was still pink from mortification, it didn’t stop her from acting like a seductress, all come-hither eyes and languid perusals.

  He dropped the bags as soon as the door shut behind him. “I have a plan,” he said, voice low.

  “So do I,” she replied, and his heart was full. They were partners—she was as into him as he was into her. There was no power imbalance. When they did this, it would mean something.

  “Check this out,” he said, distracting her.

  Head canting to one side, she considered him. “I know what you’re doing, but I’m going to let you.”

  “You won’t be sorry.”

  “I know.” Her smile was so wide, her eyes crinkled at the sides. “Show me.” When his eyes widened, she laughed. “What you wanted me to check out. Show me.”

  With a flourish, he opened a door to his left, making room for Nora to peek inside. Her gasp was worth the extra fifty dollars the room cost. “I could swim in that tub.”

  They’d be doing more than swimming if things went the way he hoped. He ran the water, getting it hot, then ripped open a packet of bath salts sitting on the edge of the tub. Bubbles frothed after he activated the jets. “Get in. Relax. I’m going to unpack.”

  “Tisse…” She clasped his wris
t as he edged by her. “Aren’t you coming in?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. This is for you. Let me spoil you a bit.” She looked unsure, gazing between the tub and him, so he grasped her shoulders and nudged her closer to the tub. “Please?” he asked.

  Eyes on his, she nodded. “You make a very persuasive, good-smelling argument.”

  Chuckling, he kissed her forehead. He didn’t trust himself to take her lips. One taste, and he’d be a goner.

  Leaving her there was hard, but hearing the water slosh against the side of the tub, indicating she’d eased under the water, was harder. A groan left his lips, and he shut his eyes. An image of her smooth, brown skin slick with water danced behind his eyelids.

  Plan.

  He had a plan.

  Focused now, he opened his suitcase, and removed a string of lights he’d wound into a ball. He didn’t have candles, but years ago, Genevieve had sent him a string of electric lights in green, purple, and gold for his first Mardi Gras away from home. He strung them along the back of the bed, plugged them in, and shut off the light.

  It wasn’t quite the effect he’d hoped for, but with evening light, the purple gave a hazy twilight feel to the room, and he decided he liked it. Soft music from his phone and a champagne delivery from room service completed his preparations, and he stood back.

  And laughed.

  Champagne in an ice bucket, the Nora playlist currently blaring a song called Raise Hell, and Mardi Gras lights. Somehow his plan for mood lighting, romantic music, and celebratory drinks came across looking like a dude desperate to get laid.

 

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