“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked, all sweetness and light, an echo of a question posed many moons before.
I shook my head to clear the image of a sixteen-year-old Arabella at the door of a different cheap motel room, far away from the prying eyes of our families, brandishing a pilfered bottle of Jack Daniels and a six pack of Coke.
“By all means,” I said, as she sashayed past.
My memories weren’t painful anymore, but neither were they something I liked to revisit. Especially now when I knew how easy it would be to get lost in her—lost in the heat that had always existed between us—and unable to find my way back to reality. What we were doing now couldn’t last and I didn’t want to get my feelings all mixed up with the love I used to feel and the lust that was coursing through me now.
This isn’t anything, I told myself. It doesn’t have to mean a fucking thing.
“Yeah right,” my subconscious answered back. “You keep telling yourself that. We both know how much this means to you.”
Well, at least one part of my brain knew the score … and it clearly wasn’t the one I thought was in charge.
Trying to keep my voice completely neutral, I said, “I didn’t know if I’d see you after last night.”
With her back to me as she emptied the bag onto the dinged table, I caught the stiffening of her spine and the tension in her shoulders before she rolled them and assumed an easy stance. Without turning, she admitted, “I didn’t know either. I still think this is stupidity personified.” She turned and held the bottle aloft. “Which is why I brought this.”
I laughed. “So because we’re doing something stupid—engaging in completely reckless behavior—you thought we should be even stupider and get drunk?”
“No,” she said, a smile crossing her face. “I thought we should get drunk because I honestly don’t know if I have the courage to go through with this—” her eyes raked over my body “—and I really want to fuck you again Zan.”
God what she did to me. Just hearing those words from her lips and I was hard as stone. I’d barely held myself together when she’d ridden me on the hood of her car the day before. I probably wouldn’t last very long once I had her writhing naked underneath me.
“Remind me again why I let you leave last night without taking care of that.”
She strolled closer, her hips swaying. “Because we needed to talk.” She ran her finger down my sternum until her hand rested just above my belt buckle. Her eyes raised to capture mine. “And I wanted to know that I could do it.”
I swallowed as my dick throbbed in my jeans. “Do what?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
She didn’t hesitate. “Walk away from you.”
I didn’t like where this conversation was going so I tried to turn things light, breezy. I took a step forward and traced my hand down her neck to rest on her shoulder. When her breath caught, I smirked knowingly and asked, “And why would you want to do that, my sweet bell?”
At my use of her old nickname, her eyes flared and her face blanched. “Don’t,” she warned, taking a step back. “We’re not going there.”
I closed my eyes on a sigh. Hadn’t I just told myself the same exact thing? Leave the past in the past where it needs to be, I reminded myself.
“Right,” I said. “I’m sorry.” I took a few steps back and sat on the edge of the bed. “If I told you I lose my mind when I’m around you, would you believe me?”
She peered at me through slanted eyes for a couple of seconds and then nodded. “Yeah, I would … because the same thing happens to me. Every damn time, apparently. Which is why we have to be careful.”
“Agreed,” I said. “Careful.”
“This is what it is and nothing more.”
Honestly, I would have agreed with anything she said if it meant I’d get one more day with her. Fuck, one more hour. I knew these next few days were going to have to hold me over for the rest of my life … however long that may be. Because we were either going to thwart Jayce, in which case Arabella would go back to being in charge of the Wilsons while I took over the reins of the St. John empire … or we’d both be dead. Any way you sliced it, this right here was all we had.
“All right then,” I said, rising and taking two steps toward her. When she didn’t shy away, I slid my arms around her waist and pulled her close. I’d almost forgotten how snugly she fit against me, her body perfectly molded to mine. Pushing away that thought, I gave her the words we both needed to hear. “This is what it is and it’s nothing more. It’s passion. It’s hate. It’s revenge. It’s everything but love.”
Arabella raised the bottle to her lips and, tipping her head back, chugged down a few deep swallows of liquid courage. Her eyes turned glassy from the burn of the Jack snaking down her throat, but she gave no other outward sign of discomfort. As if she regularly threw back shots like it was nothing.
Setting the bottle on the table, Arabella leaned into me then, her lips brushing against my neck, before she dragged her teeth over my pulse point. I shivered but stayed completely still while she explored. After what seemed like forever, her hands found their way under my shirt to traverse the heat of my skin. When her fingers ghosted over my nipple, I couldn’t take it anymore. Growling low in my throat, I speared my hands into Arabella’s hair and claimed her mouth, nipped at her full lips, and pushed my tongue deep. Arabella melted into my touch and I rolled my hips against her so she could feel the thick, hard length of my cock. So she could know what she did to me with just one kiss. Her fingernails scored my chest and I reveled in the sting, remembering how alive I felt when she was with me. With the rest of the world I was numb, but with Arabella I was a thousand nerve endings come to life.
Breaking our kiss, Arabella’s hands tangled in the leather of my belt, frantic to get it off. I could have made it easy on her by helping out, but I loved seeing her so turned on she could barely function, so nervous her hands wouldn’t work.
“Fucking leather,” she cursed when the thick band refused to give way.
I slid my hands to the thick bulge in my jeans and cupped myself suggestively. Her eyes grew wide and she swallowed deep, the gulp loud in the quiet room.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” I asked, palming myself again. “Are you dying for my cock?”
I’d seen the evidence with my own eyes. Arabella wasn’t the sweet, young girl she’d been before, but I was still surprised when she answered my question by placing her palm over my hand and squeezing.
“I want your cock deep inside of me,” she whispered. “I want to come all over this cock, my pussy milking every last drop from you while you come inside of me.”
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
I almost blew my load picturing exactly that.
The leather finally gave way and she popped the button and pulled down my zipper. Biting back a curse, I sucked in a lungful of air and let it out slowly as her fingers gripped my aching shaft in a tight fist.
“I changed my mind,” she announced. “I want your cock in my mouth. I want your cum down my throat.”
That was all well and good, but I didn’t want the first time I came to be in her mouth. I wanted us skin-to-skin, my cock buried deep inside of her, just like she’d said. I wanted to feast on her gorgeous fucking tits, and to make love to her mouth while I fucked her delectable pussy. Before I could say any of that, she dropped to her knees, pulling my jeans down with her, and dragged the flat of her tongue from the base of my shaft to my large, swollen head. As my eyes rolled back in my head, she wrapped her lips around my crown, and swirled that wicked tongue over and around me. I held my breath while she teased me, and then let it out in a gust when she took the full length of me into her mouth.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed, my control breaking, as my hips surged forward and my cock nudged the back of her throat.
When I moved to pull back, Arabella wrapped her arms around me and dug her nails into my ass, not letting me go. When I looked down, our eyes met and hel
d while she guided my hips so that I was fucking her face. A thick, wet suctioning noise filled the air and mingled with my pants and her moans. I’d forgotten how much she liked this. Hadn’t let myself remember it. Hadn’t wanted to think about how much Arabella craved the feel of me filling her mouth until she was choking on me. Her eyes watered and tears leaked out, but she never slowed the pace.
Eventually she drew back to pull some air into her lungs, and when she did, she voiced her pleasure. “God, I missed this. I missed your beautiful fucking cock fucking my pretty little mouth.”
Jesus Christ! How had I gone all these years without her on her knees in front of me, without her dirty mouth whispering filthy things as she took control and let me just feel?
“I missed it too,” I groaned when she sucked my balls into her hot, moist mouth, applying light suction until I felt the pull all the way down to my toes. When I moaned she laughed around my sac, the vibrations adding to the sensation.
Next, she licked her way up my shaft and then, with her hands around my dick, started pumping me energetically while she sucked on the tip.
“Yeah, just like that,” I bit out between gritted teeth, my hips pumping furiously now, my breathing labored, my eyes focused on watching her work me over.
“Harder,” I commanded when her licks turned teasing.
“That’s what I’m supposed to say when you’re fucking me.”
I leaned my head back and groaned while she continued to tease me with feather light caresses, her hands and her tongue alternating strokes.
My head fell forward when she asked, “Do you want to come down my throat or in my pussy?”
Oh god, I had to choose? Wait, what was I saying? Her pussy. Always.
“I want that pussy,” I growled, leaning down and hoisting her into my arms and carrying her to the creaky bed.
I could have taken my time undressing her, savor the moment, made it last. Who the fuck was I kidding? No, I couldn’t have. I needed to be inside of her right this fucking instant. I pulled her sweater off over her head as Arabella undid her bra. I tugged her leggings down her thighs and cursed when I realized she was wearing those same goddamn boots from yesterday—the ones that had prevented me from getting her naked then too.
“I hate these things,” I complained as I lowered the zipper of the left one and then the right before pulling them off her feet and tossing them across the room. Her pants followed in rapid succession.
She laughed gleefully and swatted at my arm. “Be nice to them. They’re my favorite shoes.”
“I can’t imagine why,” I said, already forgetting them as my eyes roved over her, took in the beauty that was Arabella Wilson.
As I traced my rough, calloused hand over the rise of her belly, my heart stopped beating and my stomach clenched when I felt the invisible marks where her skin had stretched to accommodate our baby. Lily, I thought, her name a painful whisper in my soul. When I leaned forward to trace my lips over each one, Arabella sucked in a strangled gasp above me.
“Please don’t be gentle with me,” she begged, her voice cracking. “Don’t go down that road Xander. Please.”
I raised my head and stared up the length of her body. Our eyes locked and held and I saw so, so much in those orbs. I saw the life we could have had together if only we had been different people, I saw the pain she’d suffered when she lost our baby, and I saw my own pain and anguish reflected back at me. She blinked and her tears spilled forth as she rushed to scrub the wetness from her cheeks.
I dropped my face forward to rub the softness of my new beard over her skin. “I’m sorry,” I whispered against her belly before placing a kiss on each jagged, pearlescent line.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered. “It was mine. My body failed me.”
“Shh,” I intoned, sliding up next to her and putting my finger to her lips. “I hope you don’t believe that.”
She laughed cynically. “It’s hard to say what I believe anymore.”
I sat on my knees in front of her, my strong thighs trapping her there. Wiping her remnant tears away with the pad of my thumb, I whispered, “I know what I believe, what I never stopped believing. I believe you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Arabella rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
I pushed my hands into her hair and leaned close, our lips almost touching. “No, I don’t,” I answered emphatically. “I’ve never seen anyone quite like you.” I placed a whisper light kiss on the corner of her mouth. “I’m supposed to hate you, and lord knows I tried, but I just … can’t.” I dropped another kiss to the other side. “You took a tragedy that could have beaten you and you rose above it.”
Arabella turned her head and laid her lips against the faint white scars that crisscrossed my wrists. “So did you,” she breathed against my pulse.
My head dropped forward and our foreheads touched. “No, I didn’t,” I replied solemnly. “I let it beat me. I’m who I am—what I am—because of it. I’ve spent the rest of my life fighting against your family because of what your father took from us.”
“You have to let that anger go, Zan,” she sighed. “Yes, he sent me away and that was terrible, but I would have lost the baby regardless.” Her breathing hitched and when she pulled back, her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “The doctors said …”
When she hesitated and then broke eye contact, I turned her face back to me. “What, Bell? What did they say?”
Suddenly I felt like what came out of her mouth next would be the most important thing I’d ever know, the most impactful words I’d ever hear.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this since we both know this isn’t going anywhere. It shouldn’t matter.”
“Everything about you matters,” I told her. “You know that.”
She huffed out a frustrated breath. “I can’t have kids, all right?” Her words were bitter, laced with anger and resentment. “The reality is, I never would have been able to carry her to term,” she sighed, defeated. “They said if I could have carried her for another two months, she might have lived. She’d have been a preemie, but maybe …”
Arabella shrugged, trying to put on a brave face but I knew better. Learning that she couldn’t have kids would have torn her up. She’d always said the only thing she really wanted to be when she “grew up” was a wife and mother. She’d wanted a big, loud, boisterous family … and she’d wanted it with me.
“Is that why you pushed me away?” I asked, realization dawning. “Why you cut me out of your life?”
It all made sense now.
“I did what I thought was right. I set you free.”
“Except you didn’t!” I proclaimed, my voice rising. “Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about you, wondered where it all went wrong. I couldn’t move on, goddamnit. It was always you, and you pushed me away in some misguided notion about protecting my feelings … but you didn’t protect me. You broke me.”
She gasped and her hand rose to cover her mouth.
“You broke me,” I whispered less forcefully.
“I didn’t mean to, I swear.”
I rolled away and threw my legs over the side of the bed, dropped forward, and buried my face in my hands. I’d never given voice to these feelings, never wanted to acknowledge them out loud. I’d always known I was broken, but somehow I’d been able to lay the blame on my father, telling myself that I would have been a different sort of man if only I’d been born to another family. That the only reason I was like this was because I’d lived among thieves and criminals my entire life. That I could turn off my emotions and be the cold-blooded killer my family needed because it was in my blood. That I was a St. John through and through and that no matter what I might have thought I wanted, I couldn’t escape who I’d been born.
But now I saw none of that was true. I’d wanted to be a better man. I’d dreamed of it with the woman by my side. I’d t
hought we could escape. Hell, I’d planned for it. So when she’d said goodbye, her desertion had crushed me.
Fuck, it should have been obvious that something more was at play than just being a product of my environment when I’d tried to kill myself. Twice.
What a fine fucking pair we made.
Arabella slid next to me and arced her hand in wide circles over my back.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was just a baby myself, Xander. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t realize my choices would hurt you.”
I snorted. “I asked you to marry me and you didn’t think I’d be hurt?”
“I …” she paused, and I heard the audible sound of her nervous swallow. “I thought you’d get over it, if I’m being honest. Especially given what I told you yesterday.”
“Yeah, I still don’t know how I feel about that one.”
“I understand if you hate me,” she murmured. “Sometimes I hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” I assured her, realizing for the first time that the words were true.
My feelings for this woman were all mixed up. I had hated her, for a long fucking time. And I was angry, but at least now I understood where she was coming from. But that didn’t mean I didn’t also love her. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d never stopped, and seeing her yesterday had only driven that point home. Fuck, I was willing to kill for her. Maybe that wasn’t how it worked in the regular world, but that was as huge a declaration as things got in our lives.
Lives I didn’t know how much longer we had to live. I couldn’t go to my death not telling her what I felt.
“The sad thing is,” I said, speaking to the ground, “I think I might still love you.”
When I raised my eyes, she was staring back at me wide-eyed and I couldn’t tell if her expression was one of profound hope or abject horror.
“Don’t worry. I’m not expecting you to say anything. I know nothing can come of it.”
The Ties That Bind Page 6