by Jenika Snow
“What you’re doing feels so good, Brea. So. Fucking. Good. Come here.” The command was low but held so much promise and desire that she couldn’t not obey it.
When she was pressed against his side again, she kept her head low. Heat and desire were still strong inside of her.
“Look at me.” His voice was pitched low, his breath blowing wisps of her hair around the hollow of her cheek. A shiver raced up her spine from that small, almost innocent act.
Finding the courage to look at him after she’d just divulged that little tidbit, and after hearing his desire for her, was harder than she thought. When she was finally able to lift her head and look into his eyes, she was shocked by the raw lust reflected in his face.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of.” He took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You being honest about your experience just makes me want you more.” He leaned in, and Brea had to force her eyes to stay open. Just having him so close, being able to smell his intoxicating scent had her on the verge of moaning. “There is nothing you can say or do that would make me want you any less.”
When his words sank in, dread settled in her. Oh, there was plenty she could tell him that would have him singing a completely different tune.
“Look at me. I want you to see how much I want you.” Their gazes stayed locked, and her breath caught at the intensity in his expression. “You’re beautiful, Brea. Inside and out.” He dipped his head to kiss her lightly. To her disappointment he didn’t deepen it, and instead ended it far too soon. “Whatever happened to you doesn’t shape who you are as a person. It might control you temporarily, but inside, under all that hurt and pain, is the real you just waiting to be awakened.”
The way he talked, so passionately, led Brea to believe that maybe he was referring to himself instead of her. She would like to believe what he’d said, but there was a part of her that knew she might be broken, that maybe she’d never be able to be whole again.
Not thinking, just needing to feel him, Brea closed the distance that separated them and kissed him with as much passion as she felt for him. His grunt of surprise spurred her on. Her clit throbbed, and her pussy ached to be filled.
She slid her hand back, along his muscular thigh, and when she reached the hard, thick length of his erection straining against the material, an involuntary moan left her. As if that sound broke him, Adrian gripped her shoulders and pulled her impossibly close.
Her hand curled around the iron-hard ridge, and a shudder went through his body. “I want you so fucking bad, Brea.” His hips jacked up as he ground his cock against her. One of his hands slid off her shoulder and made a slow trek down her side, resting on top of her thigh. The heat from his touch went straight through the thin material.
Surprisingly she didn’t feel anxiety over this. All she felt was intense pleasure and the need to go further.
Maybe I’m not broken after all.
“Is this okay?” he murmured against her mouth.
She found herself nodding, not able to actually form words as she started kissing him again.
In the next instant he gripped her waist and pulled her on top of him. She straddled his waist, their kiss never breaking, gasps of surprise leaving her. Pleasure, arousal, need … all that and more claimed her.
Both of his hands were now gripping her waist, and he pressed her down on him at the same time that he lifted his hips.
“Oh.” Her dress had ridden up, her thighs now fully exposed. She closed her eyes as her pussy, covered only in thin cotton, pressed aggressively against his jean-clad cock. The need to feel more of him, all of him, was so strong she had to break the kiss and gasp for air.
“I want so much more of you.” Adrian started kissing her neck, and Brea tilted her head to the side, relishing the feel of his lips and tongue sliding along the übersensitive spot right below her ear. She’d never felt anything so powerful before, never desired so strongly.
“Do you like that, baby?” He ran his tongue over the spot again, and she shivered.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I want inside of you so bad, Brea.”
A gasp left her at his blunt statement, and a warm wave washed through her. Brea started grinding herself on him. Brain fuzzy from desire, she was vaguely aware of Adrian’s palms sliding over her ass and cupping the mounds.
God, she didn’t want this to end.
8
She felt so good on top of him. So. Fucking. Good. Her body was petite but curvy in all the right spots. And her skin … damn, her skin tasted so good. Like vanilla and peaches. God, Adrian loved that combination. The way her body shivered slightly as he licked the spot right below her ear had him so fucking hard he thought for sure he’d bust right through the damn zipper.
When he cupped her perfectly apple-shaped ass, he growled in approval, his cock throbbing, his balls drawing up tight. He could come from this alone.
But then something shifted in her, and she pulled away.
“Baby?”
“There’s so much I want to tell you, but I’m afraid.” She stared into his eyes.
Yeah, he could relate.
He knew better than anyone that if someone tried to push him into opening up before he was ready, it just caused that door to slam shut harder.
“I’m here if you want to talk. Shit, I have my own skeletons in a closet that I want to tell you about, but I’m afraid, too. And baby, not a lot scares me.”
“We are just two broken people that are too afraid to tell the other what’s wrong.” She looked out the driver’s side window and swallowed. That image broke his fucking heart. When she finally looked back at him, she didn’t say anything, just nodded.
She made a move to get off his lap, but he didn’t want her to leave just yet. Even if all he did was hold her, that would be enough.
“I just want to hold you, Brea. Just let me hold you, baby.” Pulling her close, he held her tighter while she rested her head in the crook of his neck. They stayed like that, and it was perfect.
Having her close, the silence, all of it was perfection. He just wished they hadn’t gone to this dark place.
“Can we take a walk on the beach?” Voice soft and muffled, Brea whispered against his neck.
“Yeah, I think that would be really nice.” He opened his door and helped her out. They headed toward the beach, and Adrian reached out and took hold of her hand, twining her fingers with his. For the small amount of time they’d been together, this felt like how it should have always been. He felt like he knew her, really knew her. It seemed like their lives had been connected for so long … for a lifetime.
Brea took the lead as they walked until they were standing at the shoreline. She bent down and removed her shoes, moving closer to the water. She laughed softly as the waves kissed her toes. The sound of her laughter made his chest ache.
The wind kicked up and blew her hair around her shoulders. The scent of vanilla and peaches filled his senses.
“You better take your shoes off or you’ll get those shiny new kicks wet.”
“Kicks?” Adrian’s voice was filled with amusement.
“That’s what everyone at the club calls them. I feel old saying that instead of shoes.” She laughed harder and glanced up at him, a smile on her face. He kicked his head back and chuckled. It was a true and honest one, and it felt damn good.
She moved closer to the water and stood there until the waves came rushing toward her again. Just before it swallowed her toes, she jumped back, laughing loudly.
“I can’t believe I’ve lived less than two hours away from this and have never driven down here.” The cardigan she wore was pulled tight around her back as she wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the horizon. “It’s so beautiful. I wish I could swim out to where the color is starting to fade away. I could just disappear from everything. From everyone.”
Feet moving of their own accord, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her against his chest. They
stared out at the ocean for several long minutes. Nothing needed said, though.
“I’m sorry I kind of disconnected back in the truck. I just”—she took a deep breath—“I haven’t been with a man in a very long time, and not telling you about my past frustrates and scares me all in the same breath.”
Not thinking anymore, he let his heart and the truth lead the way. “I had someone in my life, years ago.” He thought about all that time ago, about telling the woman he’d grown to love the truth. Yes, he loved Brea, but telling her that right now might be counterproductive. “Her name was Addie.” He looked at the crushing waves beating against the rocks. The sound was ominous and soothing all at the same time. It had been a long time since he let himself open up completely. He needed Brea as close as possible while he told her this. He rested his chin on top of her head and spilled his heart.
“It was a drunk driver. He ran a red light, slammed right into the passenger side of our car and killed Addie instantly. At least that’s what they told me. I’m glad she didn’t suffer.” The last part was more of a whisper.
Brea had placed her hands over his where they rested right over her belly.
“When I came to, I was so confused as to what had happened that I didn’t even know where I was. I’d hit my head on the steering wheel and had been out of it for a good while. When I finally remembered what happened I was frantic to know where Addie was, that she was okay.” The sound of the sirens, the smell of blood and dirt washed around him, and it was like he was back on that street with medics surrounding him, shouting orders.
“God, Adrian. I’m sorry.”
“I knew right then, when they were telling me to calm down, that they needed to see to my wounds and that someone would come talk to me, that she was dead.”
They stood in silence for long moments.
“You don’t have to tell me any more if it’s too painful.”
He shook his head even though she couldn’t see him. “I want to tell you this. I’ve wanted to for a while. I need you to know who I am, what I am.”
He didn’t hold a flame for Addie, and he didn’t want Brea thinking that he was in love with his past. But he did want her to know the type of man that she was involved with.
“I changed that day, Brea, and it wasn’t for the better.” The need to look into her eyes as he bared his soul was too strong to ignore. As if she read his mind, she turned around to face him. “I never used to be like this, so angry at the world. All my anger manifested into the person I am today, into the man who fights in illegal cage matches under a club. Fighting gives me an outlet for my wrath, and it feels damn good making another man bleed.” He cupped her cheek. “I don’t want to sugarcoat anything because it would all be a lie, and I don’t want to ever be dishonest with you.”
“Adrian.” The light caress of her hand on his cheek had him closing his eyes and leaning into her. Brea’s touch was filled with gentleness, and he found himself letting go of some of his anger. “I’m so sorry.”
That was the last thing he wanted to hear from her. A quick shake of his head stopped her from continuing. “I don’t want you to be sorry, Brea. It was a long time ago, and I wanted to share this with you because I want to be honest about my past. I care about you. A lot.” The wave crashing behind her was the only sound that drowned out the silence that threatened to swallow them whole. He still cupped her cheek, smoothing his thumb along the hollow. “I don’t want you to think I still hold on to the past, on to Addie. That’s not what this is about. I changed that day of the accident. Maybe it would have been inevitable. Maybe that car crash showed me who I really am.”
“You’re exactly who you’re supposed to be,” she said softly.
He looked at the horizon, watched the rise and fall of the waves. He looked at Brea and saw the tears fall down her cheeks. Here was this incredible woman, comforting him, listening to him, crying for him.
He brushed those droplets away, smiling down at her. He didn’t want Brea being sad.
“I wish my story ended at that.” How he wished that were the truth. There was a selfish part of him that didn’t want to tell her the rest because he knew she might hate him, might be just as disgusted with him as he was with himself.
“I’m the last person who would ever judge you, Adrian.”
He wanted to believe that desperately, but once he told her the last part, the worst part of who he really was, he would know for sure if she truly meant that. “It was months later when I found him, the man who killed Addie. He was already liquored up at a bar at ten in the morning.” He found his resolve, looked her in the eyes, and told her the truth. “I beat him within an inch of his miserable, drunken life.” He stopped, giving her a moment to let what he’d just said sink in. There was no remorse for what he’d done. “I wouldn’t have stopped until he was dead, but the police came before I had the pleasure of finishing him off.” Brea’s eyes had grown slightly wider at his admission.
“I went to prison for two years for it. That man will no longer walk and will be blind out of one eye for the rest of his fucking life.” He took a deep, stuttering breath and hit the nail on the head, driving it home. “To this day I wish they wouldn’t have stopped me. To this day I wish I would have fucking killed him.”
9
The apathetic expression covering Adrian’s face was like nothing she’d ever seen. When he told her his story, his voice had gotten deeper, harsher, deadlier. Her skin had tightened as he explained the need to kill the man that had taken everything from him. Maybe he wanted her to hate him, to look at him with fear.
That wouldn’t happen.
Maybe she didn’t agree with his need to kill a man, because she could never see herself taking a life, but then again, she’d never lost something as monumental as he had.
The silence that stretched between them was powerful. He’d opened up to her, shared a part of his life that had forever changed him. There were no more questions about whether or not she should share her past with him. Did he really think she would just turn her back on him because he admitted what he clearly thought was his worst?
She would just have to prove to him that she didn’t run easily, not anymore, not when it came to him.
Now didn’t seem like the right time to tell her story, though. Right now she wanted to show him how much she’d grown to care for him. Maybe it was the look in her eyes, or maybe he felt the same bone-deep need as well, because he took her hand, kissed it softly, and held it over his heart.
“Adrian.” One step toward him and her chest was against his, their twined hands blocked in the cage their bodies created. She wanted to take his pain away, to give him a new memory, to give him many more. “Let’s go.” She needed him. Brea needed to show him that he was alive, that he was wanted … that he wasn’t a monster.
Both of their pains were tangible, sparking like a wildfire between them, trying to consume them. It couldn’t take them over. She wanted to be as close to him as she could, to wash away the heartbreaking look on his face.
He watched her for several long moments, and she could see his throat working as he swallowed. They walked back to his truck, and he helped her into the passenger seat. Hands lingering on her waist, their gazes held for a moment, a silent communication passing between them.
“I can’t believe you aren’t looking at me with disgust,” he said softly, shock in his voice.
“Never.”
He closed the door and made his way around the truck, climbed into the driver’s seat, and cranked the engine. But he didn’t drive right away. The silence caved in around them, and she reached out to take his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“It’s okay,” she said.
Five minutes later he pulled into a seaside B and B and turned the truck off. He stared at the ocean for a long time, not speaking, not moving. Was he having second thoughts? Was he thinking about his past, letting it slowly consume this moment? Maybe he wasn’t ready. Maybe she wasn’t read
y. Her body was most definitely primed for him, but maybe this was just all too much for him.
Nothing had to happen but two people sharing comfort, talking, being close.
“Adrian.” When he finally tore his gaze from the ocean and stared at her with blue eyes that seemed to match the rolling waves, she knew at that moment that she’d lost her heart to him. She loved him. So much. Fear and happiness slammed into her at the revelation.
His hand slid across the seat and took hers, intertwining their fingers together. “Come inside with me. Be with me, Brea.”
Twenty minutes later Adrian was pushing open the door to their ocean-view room. A shared room, with one bed … the space very intimate. When she’d suggested being with him, his heart had literally stopped. She hadn’t come right out and said it, but the look in her eyes had told him what she wanted.
It was what he wanted as well.
To say she hadn’t run from him, told him to take her back, that he was a monster, had him wanting to sink to his knees and thank whoever looked down on him. He was one lucky bastard.
The door shut behind them with a soft click, and then silence descended. Adrian stayed by the door, watching as she walked around the room, touching the dresser, the small table and chair, and then finally stopping in front of the sliding glass doors that led right out onto the beach.
The urge to go to her, to touch her was so strong he had to force himself to allow her this space, this time to explore and not smother her. But the fact she’d stayed by him, let him unload on her, tell her about his past, had his love for her growing.
It didn’t matter if all they did was talk and hold each other. He’d sleep on top of the covers in a snowsuit if it put her at ease.
He’d told her everything, and the silent strength she’d given him just by listening, by not judging him had opened his heart in more than one way.
“When I was younger, my dad used to take me down to this small fishing hole behind our house. I hated going down there because he’d make me bait the hooks and I’d have to take the worms and stab them through.” The smile that touched her lips was reflected in the glass of the window. “We’d stay out there for hours, not saying one word because he said we’d scare all the fish away.”