by Jayne Frost
She finally looked over her shoulder at me, a weak smile ghosting her lips. “Is this some weird new fetish? Are we playing cops and robbers?” She snorted a laugh, wiggling her fingers. “I surrender already.” Confusion crinkled her brow when she looked down. “Holy shit . . . my nipples are hard as hell,” she mused. “What’s that about?”
Before I was tempted to do a thorough inspection of the stiff peaks with my tongue, I yanked the T-shirt over her head, “You’re just cold.”
Anna continued to chuckle as I pushed her loose limbs through the sleeves.
Slipping an arm around her waist, I pulled her upright. “Up you go.”
Anna’s legs weren’t on board with the plan, so I molded myself to her back and walked us to the sink.
She gripped the edge of the granite while I held her in place with my hips so I could sift through the complimentary basket full of toiletries.
Finding two toothbrushes, I peeled off the wrapping and then loaded the bristles with toothpaste.
Prying Anna’s hand from the counter, I pressed the toothbrush into her palm. “Brush.”
Anna wrinkled her nose as she tried to find her mouth. When her cheeks were sufficiently covered with gel, I took pity on her and guided the instrument to her lips. “Open, baby.”
Anna did as I asked, her hand covering mine as I swept the bristles over her teeth.
“Good girl. Now, spit.”
Our eyes met in the mirror, and she blinked, foam dribbling on her T-shirt. My T-shirt. And something about her wearing my clothes was hot as fuck.
Cupping the back of her neck gently, I tipped her forward. “Spit, baby.”
Once she’d expelled most of the bubbles, I drew her back so I could clean the mess off her face.
Her gaze never left mine as I made quick work of brushing my own teeth.
“Can you walk?” I asked when I was finished.
Anna jerked as if she just realized she’d spent the last five minutes with my hard-on pressed against her back.
I snaked an arm around her waist as she tried to scoot away. “Whoa, hold on.”
Her wobbling legs guaranteed an inevitable crash to the unforgiving floor, so I scooped her into my arms.
“Stop squirming,” I said as I carried her into the adjoining bedroom.
When she complied, collapsing against me, I gave serious thought to taking a lap around the suite just to hold her for a few extra minutes. But I wasn’t that fucking desperate.
Pride notwithstanding, I pressed a feather light kiss to the top of her head before easing her between the sheets on the king-sized bed.
Anna grumbled, then rolled onto her side, burrowing into the pillow.
Sinking into a chair, I watched her for any signs of distress.
“Sean?”
Inching forward, I lowered my head to catch her eyes. “Yeah?”
Anna blinked slowly. “Am I dreaming?”
I laughed because it was a distinct possibility. She’d always talked in her sleep, sometimes with her eyes open. We used to have disjointed conversations about flowers and bicycles and birds. Mindless chatter that she couldn’t remember and I’d never forget.
“No, baby, you’re not dreaming.”
She frowned, her eyes drifting shut. “Why aren’t you in bed, then?”
Since Anna’s subconscious was taking a walk down memory lane, I decided to call the front desk and get my own room before I lost all reason and took her up on the offer.
After securing the black-out drapes so the sun wouldn’t blind her in the morning, I crouched next to the bed.
Tracing a finger down her jaw and over her bottom lip, a lump of regret formed in my throat. “It was nice seeing you, Anna-baby.”
Her eyes popped open. “Sean . . . ?”
Alarm etched her tone, and before I could say anything, her palm was flat against my cheek.
I leaned into her touch. “Yeah?”
“Do they have good pancakes here?”
“They have good everything here.”
Anna hummed, her eyes fluttering closed and her hand falling away. Seconds passed, and when her breathing evened, I got up.
I was headed for the door, to the freedom from all the turmoil twisting me in knots, when I heard her voice, soft as a whisper.
“Can I have some in the morning?”
My every instinct prodded me to keep walking, but when I swung my gaze to the tiny lump huddled on the side of the huge bed, I lost my will to be anywhere but here.
Closing the door, I sealed out the rest of the world for the little while we had left. When morning came, Anna would go, but right now I could pretend. Easing onto the mattress, I stayed on my side of the bed until I felt her roll over.
“Can I?” she asked, groggy. “Have pancakes . . . with you?”
Even though I knew it would end badly, I turned and faced her, sliding down until we were nose-to-nose. Her eyes twinkled faintly, and I found her hand, tangling our digits.
“You can have anything you want.” Brushing a kiss to her knuckles, my lips grazed her emerald ring. “Anything.”
Chapter Eight
Anna
My heavy lids felt like someone soldered them shut, and the room was spinning like a carnival ride.
“Oh, God.”
My groan echoed in my ears, barely audible over the pounding in my head.
Rolling onto my side, I pressed my face into the soft pillow. The cotton smelled earthy, like the outdoors, with a hint of something else.
Sean.
Flashes of memories bubbled to the surface.
The concert. The limo ride. Cocktails and confessions in Sean’s suite.
And then . . . nothing.
The mattress dipped, and a damp washcloth grazed the back of my neck.
“Anna, are you okay? Do you need to throw up again?”
Again?
Jolted by his words, I recalled cold marble under my knees and Sean’s eyes on mine while he removed my vomit splattered blouse.
Unwilling to face him, I mumbled, “I’m okay.”
Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place when I tasted mint on my tongue.
Sean’s rock-hard chest pressed against my back, holding me upright while I brushed my teeth.
Or did he brush them for me?
Twisting to look up at him, light from the bathroom sliced through the darkness, illuminating his liquid blue eyes.
“Did I use your toothbrush?”
Given my current circumstances, I didn’t know why that was relevant.
And apparently, neither did Sean, because he barked out a laugh. “That’s what you want to know?” He flopped onto his back at my side. “If you used my toothbrush?”
I was fairly certain we hadn’t had sex. There was no telltale throb between my legs. And with Sean, there would have been. But I didn’t need to give his over inflated ego a boost by mentioning that.
“I don’t know where your mouth has been,” I replied flatly, gazing from his bare chest to the dusting of hair below his navel. My eyes lingered on the deep V that disappeared into the waistband of his worn jeans. “And why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
He faced me, his lip twitching as his focus dropped to my chest before slowly returning to my eyes. “Because you’re wearing it.”
Of course I was.
Everything was coming back to me now. The way Sean’s fingers twined in my hair as he helped me wrap my long tresses in an off-kilter ponytail. His hands on my waist as he maneuvered me under the covers. The way he scooted as far from me as possible when he slid into bed next to me.
“And you didn’t even try anything,” I said, cursing the wistfulness that colored my tone.
Sean tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Did you want me to?”
Did I?
For years, I’d pictured myself showing up on Sean’s doorstep and revenge fucking the hell out of him. That was when I was still angry. And like my mama always said: holding onto ang
er was like drinking poison and hoping the other person would die. And she was right, sort of. If I fucked Sean, I’d surely vanish, the last piece of me dissolving into the ether when he walked away. And he would walk away.
“No.” My hand followed my gaze to his mouth, and I ran a finger along his bottom lip. “Yes.”
Sean nipped the pad of my thumb, then pressed a kiss to my palm. “Which is it, Anna-baby?”
I wanted him. Four years or four hundred years wouldn’t change that. But the ravine separating us was larger than ever. Once, I believed Sean loved me with his whole heart. And even that wasn’t enough. Now we were strangers. And I had too much to lose.
“It’s a no,” I said softly before shifting onto my back to look at the ceiling.
“Because you’re married?”
Because I’m not.
The gold band pinched my finger, foreign and even more fraudulent without the benefit of a few cocktails.
I shook my head, and that’s all it took. Sean was above me, his elbows bearing the brunt of his weight as he looked down at me.
“I want to kiss you,” he murmured, his lips brushing my cheek.
When I couldn’t muster the tiniest protest, his mouth crashed into mine. It wasn’t gentle. Teeth clacked and tongues tangled and my hands molded his shoulders, either to hold on or to keep from climbing inside him.
Sean tasted like he smelled. Like sunny days at the lake. And a bowl of fresh oranges.
And home.
He slid his hand to the back of my neck, to the place he owned. Diving in again and again, he teased and tasted, his hips grinding against my bare thigh.
And then he stopped.
Conflict creased his brow as his thumb caressed the column of my throat. “I can’t,” he rasped, his voice a harsh whisper. “Anna…I just…”
My limbs went numb as Sean’s rejection sank in.
I’m done with you. And this town.
All the women I’d seen him photographed with over the years flashed in my mind, a parade of long legs, toned abs, and perfect smiles.
Balling my fists against his chest, I pushed lightly. “I can’t breathe. Please . . . I can’t . . .”
Sean’s azure gaze locked onto mine as he grasped my chin, holding me in place. His long hair fell around his face, trapping me behind the curtain with him, where there was only his scent, and our breath, and a memory of what used to be.
“Listen to me. It’s not because I don’t want to.” Pressing his forehead to mine, he murmured. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret. You’re not a cheater, Anna-baby.”
Four years’ worth of pent up anger lit my insides, boiling my blood and charring what was left of my heart.
“But you are.” I flung the insult like a dagger. “Aren’t you?”
Sean blinked and then slowly rose to his knees with me still beneath him. “I . . .” He narrowed his gaze. “What?”
“You’re a cheater. You cheated on me.” Defeat infused my tone. “The day before you left town.” His mouth dropped open, genuine surprise coating his features. “Don’t deny it. I was there, in the parking lot at the bar. I went to find you.”
Sean blanched, his eyes glued to the tears sliding from my eyes. The hot, salty testaments to his betrayal glided over my temples and disappeared into my hair.
“You were there?” His Adam’s apple bobbed as if he were fighting to breathe, to keep from drowning, and maybe he was.
Taking advantage of his surprise, I wiggled out from under him, repositioning myself at the head of the bed with my legs drawn to my chest. Protecting my heart, even as I was laying it bare.
“I saw you getting out of that girl’s car, buckling your jeans.” My vision blurred and now there were two of him. “And then I talked to her, and she confirmed it.”
We stared at each other for a long moment, and then Sean flopped onto his back.
“You didn’t know?” I asked, sniffling.
He draped his arm over his eyes. “Of course not. How would I know?”
The anguish in Sean’s voice told me he wasn’t lying.
Scooting to the side of the bed, I swung my legs over the edge, but his hand darted out to catch my wrist before I could escape.
“Tell me, Anna. How would I know?”
My attention shifted to the clock with 3:11 a.m. glowing in red.
I had nowhere to go at this hour so I might as well let it all out.
“I thought Logan would’ve told you.”
Willing the emotion from my voice, I fought the fresh batch of tears stinging my eyes. Sean didn’t deserve them. I’d cried an ocean and didn’t have any to spare.
Sean’s hand slid up my arm. “What does Logan have to do with this?”
“He was there.” My voice cracked, brittle shards falling into the space between us. “He found me.”
Sean rose on one elbow, color draining from his face. “He was there?” Shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it, his jaw hardened. “What did he do?”
Anyone else, and the question would’ve sounded like an accusation. But Sean knew how close Logan and I were. Like brother and sister, closer than Peyton and I were in many ways.
Sean took that from me too.
I wicked the moisture from my cheeks with my free hand. “Logan took me back to the apartment, and we waited for you to come back. But you didn’t.”
Even though the burden was Sean’s, a weight lifted off my shoulders, and suddenly I was too tired to keep my eyes open. I suspected I wasn’t quite as sober as I thought. The fact that I let Sean pull me against him proved the point.
“I did come home,” he roughed out, his tone gravel and grit. “But you were gone. And I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t face you, so I left. It was a mistake.” Sean’s arms fell around me as he kissed my temple. “The biggest fucking mistake of my life. But I was going to come back for you after the tour. And explain. I swear it.”
Sean buried his face in my neck, the rest of his confession muffled by my hair. And though I knew it was wrong, that we were wrong, I let him rock me until I fell asleep.
Chapter Nine
Sean
I cursed the sliver of gray peeking through the tiny slit in the blackout drapes. I hadn’t so much as flinched in three hours, too afraid that if I moved, Anna would come to her senses, get up, and call a fucking cab.
She knew.
The notion rolled around in my head as I stroked her back with numb, tingling fingers.
I’d been carrying the guilt of my betrayal around for all this time, telling myself that even if I was the one who started us down the path, Anna had ended us. That she’d moved on.
But it was all me.
Anna stirred in my arms, catapulting me into the present.
She looked up at me with that not-quite-awake stare and said, “Can we open presents?”
Anna was the fucking present, and I’d love to unwrap her, peel back every layer.
Instead, I smoothed the hair from her face and tried to figure out what time or place she was visiting in her dreams.
“Is it your birthday, Anna-baby?” She frowned, confused, so I tried again. “All right then, what do you want for Christmas?”
A small smile curved her lips, and her lids fluttered closed. “Padre Island.”
I chuckled. “The whole island?” She shook her head, then nodded, and it took all my effort not to laugh. “All right, pretty girl. I’ll get you Padre Island. The whole damn thing.”
She rolled away from me, and though it sent a pain straight through my fucking heart, I let her. After pulling the covers to her chin, I scooted off the bed.
Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I skimmed all the alerts, but it was Anna’s soft sigh that drew my attention. I glanced at her auburn hair fanning the pillow.
More.
That’s all I wanted.
More of Anna. More of this. Just . . . more.
Looking down at my phone when it buzzed, I walked into th
e living room and hit the first link that populated the screen.
Mega concert promoter Benny Conner wooing Caged for the Euro-Trash Rock Festival tour.
Fuck me. I hadn’t even thought about Benny, the band, or the meeting I’d blown off. Since the moment I’d followed Anna down that hallway at the arena she’d consumed me.
Instead of reading one of the hundred texts, I dropped onto the couch and perused the breakfast menu. Only after I’d called room service and ordered every kind of pancake known to man did I pick up my phone.
Before I could respond to any messages or emails, a loud knock echoed in the suite. I jumped to my feet, rushing to the foyer before the pounding woke Anna.
Yanking the door open, I met Logan’s frosty glare over the top of his sunglasses. “What the fuck happened to you last night?” He brushed past me, and when he nearly tripped over Anna’s discarded stilettos, he jerked his gaze to mine. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me? You ditched a meeting with Benny C for a—”
Before he could finish, the bedroom door creaked open, and then Anna was there, twisting the sash on the oversized robe the hotel provided.
“I didn’t know anyone was here,” she said, her eyes jumping from Logan to me.
I cemented on a smile. “That’s okay. Look what the cat dragged in.”
Logan didn’t even look at me as he stalked straight to Anna. A brief second passed and then she was off the ground, in his arms. “I can’t believe this,” he said as he swung her around. “You’re really here. How?”
Setting her on her feet, he waited for an answer.
Anna pulled in a slow breath. “Well, I came to the show last night, and . . .”
Her gaze shot to mine.
“And we had a few drinks,” I said to Logan as I sank into the wing backed chair. “Since Anna was a little tipsy, she decided to crash here.”
Anna turned a deeper shade of red, knowing exactly how this looked. I knew as well, but the difference was, I didn’t care. I’d already resolved myself to the fact that I wanted Anna in my life. Any way that she’d have me.