Lilith reaches out and grabs Cope's arm as he snags a drink from the tray on the bar.
“Let me get your neck,” she says, making him kneel in front of her so she can rub lotion into his tattoo, fingers massaging the black ink, the splash of vibrant watercolor splotches beneath it.
“You really are a good girlfriend,” I say, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. I pause for a moment to inhale, breathing in the scent of her rosewater perfume, the pomegranate spice of her shampoo. “Stop taking such good care of us, Cutie. We're all gonna end up getting spoiled.”
“I like to spoil my lovers,” she says with a gentle smile alighting on her lips, softening up the skin around her eyes, “especially when they deserve it. Kevin never did; you all do. Besides, I'm keeping my promise, working on my art, making plans. I checked my bank account today by the way.” Lilith leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of Cope's mouth before he stands up and moves over to sit next to Ransom. “That guy from the auto body shop in Phoenix transferred the money for the Matador today. Thanks for helping me with the title by the way,” she adds and I smile.
Before we left Times Square, after hitting the wax museum, I made us walk a few blocks to a notary public so Lilith could sign the certificate of title for her car; she couldn't have sold it without doing that. And then we dropped it off at a post office to be overnighted to Phoenix. If the auto body shop itself hadn't been so reputable and established, I probably would've discouraged doing that without getting a check or something first, but I'm glad I trusted my instincts.
“Five grand,” Lilith says with a smile. “I bet this furniture set cost more than that.”
“Probably,” I joke, leaning back and pulling her close to me, burying my face in her hair.
God, I want to tell her. I want to tell her so fucking bad.
Lilith, my mother was a weak woman. She married a man with a record, got pregnant, and then lost him to prison. While he was in there, my uncle, Micah Muser, Mom's brother, took care of us. Even after the fucker got out of prison—he only served forty-four months for molesting a young girl—Micah kept me safe.
My internal monologue comes to a screeching halt when I get to the death of my uncle. Man, fate is one cruel asshole. The one person in my life that stood up for me, treated me like he truly loved me, had a heart attack and died when I was eight years old. And, you know, Daddy had already paid his debt to society. Ah, boo-hoo. Let the child fucker integrate back into society, give him another chance.
Well you know what that chance did to me?
It destroyed me, that's what.
Second chances are beautiful things, wondrous things, but there are acts that a man can't come back from. What that man did to that little girl was worth his life—not a measly three and a half years. I wonder if the awful things he did to her screwed her up as badly as they did me?
I shove the straw in my drink aside and down the rest of it in a single gulp.
“Muse?” Ran asks, leaning forward, his eyes the color of wet mud. Not in an ugly or insulting way though. I find them soothing, comforting, like the deep quiet places in the earth where humans never go, all of that moist earth beneath our feet, just tangles of roots and fat pink worms.
“Just fine,” I say, but my voice is thready and weak, my hand shaking slightly where it's wrapped around my glass of rapidly melting ice cubes.
“Derek?” Lilith asks softly as I pull my arm out from under her and stand up, depositing my glass on the surface of the bar.
The slick sound of a belt being pulled from pant loops, the ugly sliver of a smile on a darkly bearded face. My fingers curling around the windowsill, trying to escape, reaching toward the hummingbirds safely buzzing near their feeder. If only I had wings, I could fly away. If only. If only …
Without saying a word, I turn and run toward the pool, putting my hands together and diving into the water with almost zero splash.
I stay under as long as I can, coming up only when I feel like my lungs might burst open and flood my chest with blood.
I come up with a gasp, curling my fingers around the edges of the pool and finding Lilith waiting there with the curved white shapes of her calves resting in the water next to me.
“Come sit with me in the cabana; we can talk.”
“I don't want to talk,” I say, looking away from her, toward the impressive stone structure of the house. As I do, I catch Pax's grey gaze. He looks guilty as hell again, like he thinks his problems are nothing when compared to mine. I make myself smile at him and he scowls, glancing away sharply.
I refuse to compare my pain with anyone else's. The grief of losing my uncle is a different pain than the betrayal and hatred I feel towards my mother's husband. It's really hard to think of that man as my dad. He never acted like a father to me. Hell, my mom never acted like a mother. She was distant and apathetic and depressed all the time.
I learned from a young age that it's actually easier to feel alone with people around than it is to feel lonely by yourself.
“I don't want to talk,” I repeat, reaching up and grabbing Lilith by the hips. I tug her into the water and she squeals, laughing as she comes up with red hair plastered across her face. I sweep it away with my fingers and then pen her in against the side of the pool, two pairs of legs kicking beneath the surface to keep us afloat.
“If you don't want to talk, then what do you want to do?” she whispers in a throaty voice, almost a purr. Lil's shiny pink fingernails curve around my shoulders as I lean in and press my mouth to her ear.
“I want to fuck you.”
Lilith's pale skin pebbles with gooseflesh, her nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of her bikini top.
“Where?” she asks coyly as I swim closer, pressing her body to the stone wall of the pool with my own. There's one of those faux waterfalls to our right, drowning out the noise of our voices. I like the idea of screwing her right here, in Pax's parents' pool, seeing if anyone notices what we're doing. “Here?” she squeaks, like she's just figured out what I'm planning on doing.
“You were the one that tricked me into the bathroom at the wax museum,” I reply with a confident male smile. Deep down, I'm breaking into pieces, jagged shards of glass that cut and bleed the rancid infected meat of my heart. On the surface, I keep it all together, my face smooth and unbroken and fine. Fine, fine, fine. Just fucking fine. “Decided you're not a fan of public sex after all?”
“Did I say that?” she replies, glancing over as Pax and Amelia rise to their feet and head back toward the cabana. Lilith turns her green eyes to me. “How long do you think we have?”
Her smiles turns mischievous, resurrecting the hard-on in my swim trunks, making me forget for just a split second there that I almost lost it. I escaped from that house years ago—long before I got my official emancipation at fifteen—and I haven't let myself fall apart even once. I didn't have that luxury; I had to fight for every goddamn thing I had.
And now … I have everything I could want and it's all bubbling up to the surface. It makes a certain sort of awful sense. I'm here, safe, with Lilith and my friends. I've got a career, one that I made out of a passion and a hobby, my own place, and money.
It's time to let go, fall into that safety net and pray that it holds.
My fingers sweep wet hair behind Lilith's ear as I press our foreheads together and let out a low breath.
“Why do you always smell so damn good?”
“Me?” she asks as I slip a hand below the water and push my swim trunks down, just enough to free my cock. “You always have this warm, smoky smell clinging to your skin. I thought it was the tea, but since we left the bus behind, you haven't made any yourself, and yet … you still smell that way. How do you explain that?”
I just smile as she lifts her legs, letting them float like water lilies for a second before she wraps them around my waist.
“Your feet aren't even touching the ground—” she starts, but I cut her off with a kiss to stop time
, freeze us in place, lock us into this moment. The sun is warm on my back, Lilith's heart beating against my chest. I feel, uh, like so crazy protective over this girl right now it's not even funny. I think that's why I almost lost my shit when she went missing in Atlanta. I was afraid that something happened to her, something like what happened to me.
I could never bear that.
I want to protect her, keep her safe forever.
I deepen the kiss, but I do it slowly, so slowly that Lilith whimpers against my lips, leaning in toward me, begging me with her own tongue to hurry up. I bid her to wait with a gentle nip of teeth against her lower lip, stretching this moment out, making it last. Every part of me responds to her touch, every fucking part.
My heart plays a gentle ballad inside my chest, encourages my soul to dance with this girl's, take her lonely hand in mine to change both our fates. Our bodies move in a slow waltz, coming together like dancers on a ballroom floor. Even with the water of the pool washing away the slippery desire between Lil's thighs, she's slick for me. Her body takes mine easily, our hips rocking together with the slow, swaying rhythm of the water.
Since I'm not touching the ground, using one arm to hold her and one to grip the edge of the pool, I have to rely on Lilith's hips as much as mine to move us. We rock together in the hot sun, the spray of the waterfall on my right shoulder soothing and cool. I keep control of that kiss, though, making her arch toward me, press her breasts into my chest.
I've kissed a lot of girls in my life, but not like this, not with more than my mouth. I give Lilith everything I have, letting the warm brush of her lips scrape away my shield, leave me naked and weaponless on the battlefield of my own pain.
I can feel each one of her fingers as she drags them down my wet arms, nails lightly scraping across my skin. I'm fucking dying to look at her, but I make myself keep my eyes closed. That sort of heightened sensation can only be achieved if I lock away my eyes for just a split second, let myself see with my heart and my soul instead.
The words almost come up then. I almost do it, tell her that I love her. But I can't. Just a little longer, just a little bit friggin' longer.
My naked warrior worships at the altar of Lilith's goddess, supplicates himself at her pale feet, kisses her perfect toes with quaking, hungry lips. Without a single shred of doubt, I knife that aching rotten heart of mine and sacrifice the hot sticky redness of my blood.
“I'm coming,” she gasps, arching her hips up sharply, using the hardness of my body to pleasure her clit at the same time my shaft strokes her inside.
“Then come for me, Cutie,” I whisper back, putting my lips to her wet hair, opening my eyes and looking down to catch the expression on her face.
Her lids get thick and heavy, drooping over those emerald eyes. I use that moment to let go of the pool's side, our bodies dipping briefly under the water. My hands grab Lilith's hips and push her into the wall, those pink lips of hers opening in a scream of pleasure, the sound buried under a brilliant blue wall of H2O.
I hold her close as she climaxes, using the violent tightening of her muscles to reach my own end. There's this sharp moment of white-hot pleasure when I spill myself inside of her, but it fades away quickly, leaving me a bleeding, open wound in her arms.
Now I'm ready. I'm ready to talk to her, let it all out. Then she'll know my darkest secrets, my deepest pain. If she still wants me after that, then I know we'll make it. Not just back to Seattle, but forever. Or as close to forever as this world ever allows us to get.
Our heads break the surface of the water, both of us gasping for air as our bodies break apart and we tug our swimsuits back into place. I find myself laughing, but I can't seem to stop. Lilith joins in, the sound like church bells, calling my worshipper to service. And I want to serve her, this girl who's unknowingly going to be my savior.
Mm. Yep. She's a really good goddamn girlfriend.
“Hey.”
A colorful beach ball bounces on the surface of the water next to us.
“Yeah?” I ask as Lilith hoists herself up onto the edge of the pool and gives me a secretive little smile, a dirty twist of lips that I can't keep myself from returning.
“Pax's parents are here,” Ransom says, sounding like he's a few seconds away from having a heart attack. I look up at him, crouching at the edge of the water with a nervous glint in his eyes. Me, I've survived the fucking worst humanity has to offer. The Blackwells might be influential people, but they can't do any worse than my own flesh and blood. If they like me, great. If not, I'll get over it. “He says we should probably wait upstairs, and he'll come get us later for dinner. I don't think they know we're here yet.”
“This isn't going to be a pleasant evening, is it?” Lilith asks with a small sigh.
“It'll be pleasant if we make it pleasant,” I say, climbing up to sit next to her. I look askance at Lil and Ran. “Play a game with me: no matter how awful these people are, no matter what terrible things they do, we keep smiling and say the nicest compliments we can think of. Every single time. No getting frustrated or giving up. You don't have to roll over for them, and you don't have to lie, but you do need to keep smiling, keep things positive and upbeat.”
“Sounds like a lot of goddamn work,” Ransom says, his voice like bat wings, smooth and black and weightless, beating the night into submission, rising into the sky.
“It's worth it, I promise. Nothing infuriates assholes more than nice people. And that way, if we're wrong, and the Blackwells turn out to be sweethearts, they'll love us.”
I put my wet palms on my knees and smile at them both, feeling my soul's nakedness like a tight heat crawling over my skin. I hope Lilith and I get a chance to talk sooner rather than later. I'm not sure how long I can hold onto this feeling.
“Okay,” she agrees finally, smiling and reaching up to pull her long red hair over one smooth shoulder. “I'll give it a shot.”
“Ran?” I ask and he sighs, pushing his hood back and flashing us mussy brunette hair.
“Why not?” he says, holding out a hand and helping Lilith to her feet.
She reaches out then and does the same for me.
I wonder if she knows that action's as metaphorical as it is physical?
This girl, she's the one who's going to help me get my feet—and stay on them.
My boys each head off in a different direction, stealing my breath and my heart along with them. That poor, overworked muscle thunders inside my chest, makes my pulse ring between my ears like an alarm. I feel like my soul's being split into five pieces, fluttering after them like desperate butterflies seeking their flowers.
Hmm.
I keep my hand resting on the handle to Pax's bedroom door, waiting until the four guys that are with me disappear into their respective rooms. It won't last long, I know, because Ransom won't sleep here by himself. That, and it didn't seem to matter at the hotels that we technically each had our own rooms; we all ended up together anyway.
My fingers pull down on the handle and I step inside, closing the door behind me but leaving it unlocked. Paxton and Amelia disappeared together when they saw his parents' car on the road heading toward the estate. I imagine he'll say hello and be back up here to change in a few.
“You're from another world, Pax,” I whisper to myself as I take in the grandeur of the space that was once his personal bedroom. He told me earlier that it looked nothing like this when he stayed here during his school breaks, visiting in the summer and spending months lounging around the twenty-eight acres. Apparently, Amelia's family, the Davies, own an adjoining property and another twenty-two acres with a slow-moving creek and an entire equestrian center.
As it is, the room is nice—really nice. It's upscale beyond anything I've ever seen in my life, making the fancy tour bus look downright grungy. Still, I miss the Bat Cave and its custom bed, the grinning spindle mouthed headboard, and the striped silver and grey walls. The décor in here was probably put together by an interior designer or somethi
ng; there's just no personality to it.
“Fuck.”
I smile as I realize I sound like one of my boys, reaching up to untie the knot on the back of my neck, letting the cups of my swimsuit fall forward, and freeing my breasts. There's a gentle soreness between my thighs as I move, teasing me with fresh memories of Muse's cock, of fucking outside in broad daylight in a pool.
There was something else happening there, too, something deeper. Obviously, Derek went through some kind of emotional overload, a million different feelings flashing across his face before he stood up and fled to the safety of the pool. When we were having sex, I could feel it, a great unraveling inside of him.
Derek Micah Muser is coming undone, and that's a good thing. He has too many damn knots inside of him, stopping up his veins, clogging his arteries. He might bleed a little as he tries to untie them all, but that's okay. I'll be there to staunch the wounds.
I grab my phone and start some music—Beauty in Lies, of course—and take a quick shower.
The bathroom itself is huge, cavernous really, with black slate walls and a beige stone floor. It feels too modern for this old house, and I find myself wondering what it used to look like, if the walls were rough cut stone, if it had a clawfoot tub or one of those old toilets with the raised tank and a pull chain to flush.
“You've got an email from the cemetery,” Muse says, startling me as I step out of the shower and find him sitting on the black and white divan in the corner. That's a new one for me, seeing furniture that costs as much as my car in a guest bathroom. “Twenty bucks a letter to engrave the name. They said it doesn't matter if the body's buried there or not; you own the mausoleum now so you can make that decision.”
He looks up and finds my naked body with his eyes, letting them trace unashamedly from my head to my toes, taking in every inch of bare skin with a smile.
Moxie (Rock-Hard Beautiful Book 3) Page 9