Chapter 17

As soon as Adonis came to, he wished he’d stayed under longer.

His chest slogged with fluid. Mucous clogged his sinuses. His skin was so tight from dried sweat he felt like a shedding snake trapped in its old epidermis.

Every ligament and joint in his undernourished body ached.

And that list of ailments didn’t include the side effects from the medication he had started three weeks ago.

All in all, he felt like shit warmed over.

Adonis rolled onto his side, searching for a position that would provide some relief from the congestion.

A teasing scent stole past the blockage obstructing his sinuses. Sweet with a hint of citrus, it reminded him of strawberries and pink grapefruit.

Disconcerted, he opened his eyes.

Fear, cold and cutting, plunged through him when he saw her lying there, in his bed, so close he could reach out and touch her. He hadn’t slept with her again, had he?

He bolted upright in a near state of panic. A damp cloth slid off of his forehead and landed in his lap in a soggy plop. It triggered a replay of the previous night.

With a soft groan, Adonis slumped back against the pillows.

Tess had come through for him again.

Ever since Cameron slapped him with the ultimatum, he had mulled over what he to say to her. It hadn’t been difficult, considering she was part of the reason for their stilted friendship. But when he had seen her standing outside of the bathroom, Cameron’s baggy clothes hanging off of her slender frame, he wanted to hurt her in the worst possible way: for turning his best friend against him, for butting her way into his life, for making him care.

Her wounded expression, like a kicked puppy, had disturbed what little sleep he could come across for weeks.

The flu was karma’s retribution. He deserved to suffer and wade alone through misery of his own making.

Adonis cast a covert glance her way.

He was safe.

She lay unmoving, the sound of her breathing deep and undisturbed. Perspiration dotted her brow and brimmed her upper lip.

Adonis withdrew a remote from beneath his pillow and powered down the fireplace.

It was strange to see her without safeguards. There was expressiveness to her face, even as she slept. His eyes traced the lines and curves of her features: the graceful arch of her eyebrows, the elegant sweep of her cheekbones, the dainty perch of her nose, and the sultry shapeliness of her mouth.

An old, insistent urge tugged at him. For once, it wasn’t completely sexual. The insistency hummed in his blood and wriggled deep beneath the pads of his fingertips until he was literally itching for a pencil and pad of paper to capture the aesthetic details of her face.

A shard of mid-morning sunlight highlighted the subtle tones of her peaches and cream complexion. At some point during the night her hair had fallen out of the twist and spilled around her. It had taken on a copper-penny hue in the light, the pool of multihued tresses straddling several shades, like her greenish brown eyes, like so many interchanging and contradicting characteristics about her.

She could be spitting fire one second and the next offering a helping hand, always putting others before self. She was confident and vulnerable, driven and a sharp-witted, down-to-earth woman who could hold her own and a head-in-the-clouds, simple-minded girl who craved acceptance.

There were so many facets and dimensions to her personality.

He didn’t know what to make of her, not anymore.

Uncomfortable, Adonis shifted to get out of bed when something warm manacled his wrist.

An emotion tugged at him.

He carefully unclamped her fingers. The soft, silky texture of her skin gave him a moment’s pause.

He was becoming too comfortable with her. He hadn’t tried hard enough to stop the connection from establishing and maturing. So what now? Cameron had made it more than clear where he stood on their ‘relationship’.

As if sensing his turmoil, she roused, the dark crescent of her eyelashes fluttering. The innocent susceptibility of her expression folded, overtaken by familiar defenses.

For some reason it bothered him. He wasn’t going to bite her head off.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, a decent amount of suspicion shoring up her gaze.

“Just peachy,” Adonis said with far more sarcasm than he intended.

Instead of countering the attack, Tess pushed herself up. His lungs swiped a shuddering breath as she crawled towards him. He froze, fearing she was going to tackle him, or worse, kiss him.

His traitorous mouth trembled at the thought.

But Tess did neither and tested the heat of his forehead with her palm. “Good. Your fever broke. Just continue to take the cough medicine, drink plenty of fluids, and rest up.”

“Thanks,” he said, the alien word awkward and bulky on his tongue. Something indefinable built in his chest as he watched her long legs swing over the side of the bed. “So that’s it?” he blurted.

Her expression chilled fractionally. “Yes, that’s it. What else were you expecting? A sponge bath?”

Adonis scowled. “Why are you being such a bitch?”

“I spend half of the night practically nursing you back to health and I’m a bitch?”

“I said thanks.”

“Of course because that makes up for all of your character flaws, now doesn’t it?” Tess picked up her cardigan.

“What else do you want from me?” he snapped out.

“Hard as it is to believe, nothing.” She was yelling now. “You think I like walking on eggshells around you, never knowing what’s going to come out of your mouth next? You’re like a box of fucking crackerjacks. I never know what I’m going to get. How the hell am I supposed to act around you? And don’t try blaming all of this on your being bipolar. I’ve done enough research to know that you’re an asshole by choice, not genetics.”

“I didn’t mean—fuck.” He worked his temples, trying to ease the pressure of his headache, the dull throbbing having doubled ever since she opened her mouth. “Why do you have to turn everything into an argument?”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault you don’t know how to carry on a conversation with people?”

They each leveled a stony glare at one another. Adonis wanted to forfeit. He was tired of fighting: her, himself, these feelings.

Just as he contemplating throwing in the towel, his body made the decision for him.

A trail of mucus trickled from his left nostril.

For one mortifying second, they were thrown into silence.

Adonis quickly swiped at the snot with the back of his hand and felt pinpricks of red stinging his cheeks.

Tess’s lips were pressed together so tightly they’d turned white. But her amusement would not be contained.

Laughter burst from her in rich, husky peals that made the hairs on his neck twitch.

Apparently there would be no end to his humiliation.

“Excuse me for being sick.”

“I’m sorry,” she gasped and attempted to throttle the rest of her laughter. “Let me get you some tissue.”

Adonis didn’t look at her when she offered him toilet paper and roughly wiped his nose. “Thanks. Again,” he muttered grumpily.

“You’re welcome.” Vestiges of her previous amusement warmed her voice.

“You don’t need to gloat.”

“Who says I’m gloating?”

“Says that fucking smirk on your face.”

Some of the warmth faded. “You know Adonis, I’m beginning to think you don’t know how to talk to the fairer sex.”

“There’s nothing fair about you.”

“True.” Her smile withdrew entirely. “About last night,” she hesitated, “Cameron really told you to stay away from me?”

He had told her about that, hadn’t he? There wasn’t any point in lying about it now. Yet, even though his bastard friend did deserve a ball busting, the guy was still his blood brother. “I was delirious,” he said offhandedly. “How am I supposed to know what I said?”

Her expression was unconvinced. “Right. That must be it. Can you call Lydia? I left my stuff in her apartment.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He drew his phone from underneath his pillow and dialed his sister’s number. He frowned when the call dumped straight into voicemail. Adonis tried her landline. After the seventeenth ring, he disconnected. “She’s not picking up.”

“Of course she’s not,” Tess grumbled. “Your sister is the devil, by the way.”

He resisted the temptation to grin. “She’s one of a kind.” He scratched the back of his head. “You want a ride back?”

“Nah. I think I can manage. It’s only eighteen or so blocks.” Tess grimaced.

His brow whipped up. “Only?”

She looked torn. “You don’t have to.”

“Ok. Then walk back.”

She glowered at him.

“That’s what I thought.” He walked up to a flat-screen console mounted into the wall and hit a few keys. After a singular ring, a gruff, distinctly male voice picked up. “Jeff. It’s Adonis. Have my car ready in five minutes.”

“Right away, sir.”

By the time they made it to the parking garage, a black Range Rover idled near the entrance, the interior already toasty for them.

“What happened to the Ferrari?” she asked as they climbed in.

Adonis skewed her with an incredulous look. “Why the hell would I drive a sports car in the middle of winter?”

“Good point,” she grumbled and buckled her seatbelt. “I see you’re taking your medication.”

It was obvious she’d been sitting on the question for a while. “Yeah.”

“And?”

“What are you, my case worker?”

“Whatever. Forget I asked.” Tess faced the window.

The urge to clarify converged in his gut. What was this girl doing to him? “I don’t know. I guess I feel calmer,” was all he was willing to admit. Not waiting for another round of inquisition, Adonis plugged the auxiliary cord into his cell’s headphone port.

Her mouth swept upward the instant the heavy riffs blasted from the stereos. “You’re not like the rest of them.”

He smirked. “Why, because I listen to Chimaira?”

“No, not only that.” She sighed. “I can’t believe I’m say this, but you seem more open-minded, freer. Less bound by propriety, if that makes any sense.” Tess surveyed the passing scenery. “That’s more than I can say about Cameron.”

Not even the brutal thrash of music could cage the elephant breathing down their necks.

So what if Cameron’s girl slept over after he was told to stay away from her? Nothing had happened. Nothing was going to happen. “Don’t blame him,” Adonis heard himself say. “He’s been on a short leash since birth. You can say he never got out much.”

Tess shrugged, clearly uncomfortable discussing it. “So have you ever been to a mosh?”

“It’s not really my scene.”

“You can’t call yourself a real metal fan if you’ve never been to a show.” Her eyes glinted devilishly. “Do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. Do I need to create a last will and testament first?”

“Wouldn’t hurt. Hold on a sec.” He waited as she consulted her phone. After a few minutes of web surfing, she smiled. “If you’re feeling up to it, there’s a show playing tomorrow night. You’ll like these guys. They’re pretty beast.”

“Gee, however will I repay you,” he said, less than enthused.

“You don’t have to,” she chirped merrily. “Consider it my Christmas present to you.”

Oh. Joy.

____________________

Adonis paced the sidewalk. Down the street, the continuous line of people streamed into the nondescript building.

Hipsters, punks, freaks, and a scattering of the normal-attired, it seemed as if everyone had crawled out of their respective holes tonight.

Such was the Lower East Side.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He felt overdressed in a bomber jacket, white tee and jeans. Maybe he should’ve worn war paint like the joker in the front.

Relief bloomed outward as his pocket vibrated. He pulled up her text. I’m here.

“Where the fuck is here?” he muttered.

“Here.”

Adonis whipped around, ready to maim her for making him stand around like an idiot tourist.

He forgot how to breathe.

Hair pinned up in a high ponytail, her curls spiraled past her shoulders. She wore a ripped Cannibal Corpse tee. The diagonal slashes unveiled a teasing hint of cleavage above the black tank she wore underneath. Tight, black skinny jeans molded to the shapely contour of her legs, adding devastating length. The purple-black smudged eye shadow accented the starburst of hazels, greens, and flecked gold in her eyes.

She looked dark and lethal and ready to eat him alive.

Hell if he would stop her.

“Adonis? Are you ok?”

“What? Yeah,” he said dumbly. “Your purse and shit’s in my car.”

“Aw, more excuses to spend time with me,” she teased, sticking her cell into her back pocket.

His eyes followed its transit, jealous of the inanimate object tucked snugly against her ass. “You wish.”

Tess appraised his outfit. “At least you didn’t wear a button down. But I was looking forward to shredding shirt.”

There was still time for that.

Tess propelled him toward the dwindling line.

He never had to stand in line before. It should’ve pissed him off. But her presence distracted him. Unaware of his stupor, Tess chattered about the history of the band headlining.

She shouldn’t have fazed him. He’d been with sexier woman. Smarter. More cultured. More experienced.

So what made her so different?

Adonis recovered enough to pay for their tickets before she could locate her cash. Luckily he didn’t have to hear her protests for long.

The second the steel doors swung open, deafening music decimated half his brain cells. Multicolored strobe lights, interspersed with flashing claps of white light, zigzagged over the crush of people. The closer to the stage, the more ravenous the fans became: pushing, shoving, and crashing into their neighbors.

So this was the world of metal. He’d gotten into the genre after first being introduced to coke. The ferocity of its sound would bleed into his veins and make his highs higher, last longer.

He ran his tongue across his gums, itching for a bump. Just one.

Tess tugged his wrist, dispersing the old urge, and pointed to the balcony stairs. She didn’t wait for him to agree before dragging him along. She sifted through the crowd with surefooted nimbleness and fought for a spot against the banister.

“So this is your old stomping ground,” he said as the music died down.

Her flashed him a grin that made his something spring in his chest. “Before my mom married my stepfather I used to come here all the time. It used to be my only escape. Nothing mattered except the music.”

“Why did you give this up if it means so much to you?”

Her expression wavered. “It was hard enough trying to fit in with your people. You think showing up to class with black eyes and bruises would’ve made things easier? Or even inviting anyone to a show?”

She had a point.

Whistles and cheers gained volume as the next band’s roadies finished sound checks. Anticipation electrified the air.

She rose to her toes and yelled into his ear, “I haven’t seen these guys since I was fifteen, but they're fucking phenomenal.”

The lights went out, immersing them in pitch darkness. A second later, the thundering explosion of drums and squealing guitars split the atoms around him. The variation swung from bone shattering power chords to dulcet, melancholic vocals. As tension crept back into the singer’s voice, mirroring the instrumental build up, it revived the frenzied pandemonium.

On stage, the singer screamed for a circle pit. Like a whirlpool, the masses below eddied to a slow churn. As they gained speed, so did the savagery.

Tess nudged him. “You want to go down?”

Was she out of her fucking mind?

He wanted to say hell fucking no. But she practically whirred with excitement. Adonis groaned, already regretting this shit. “Sure.”

With an elated squeal, she guided him back down the steps and into the sweltering horde of bodies.

Everyone was mobile. People slam danced feet away, head-banging, leaping into the pit and ramming into bystanders only to be thrown back into the center of chaos.

Beside him, Tess had already cut loose. She yanked off her hairband and rolled her neck, whipping her hair in circles. She bounced on the balls of her feet. She punched her metal horns into the air. She’d lost her mind.

And he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

He’d never seen her look fiercer or freer. She wasn’t a wannabe trust fund baby or trying to blend into her surroundings. She wasn’t a one-dimensional caricature capable of only regurgitated ideas and thought.

This was the real Tess.

Her skin was flushed with sweat. Her make up had started running. She didn’t care. No one seemed to care.

Maybe that was the point.

As he tuned back into the music, he realized she was the right. Their sound was gritty, raw, electric. It was so much more intense live than listening through headphones or his car’s stereo.

Just as he began to lose himself in the madness, angry motions from his periphery distracted him. He saw it happen slow motion: two guys swept up in an argument, the subsequent shoving, one guy’s arm rearing back to deliver the blow.

Adonis couldn’t move fast enough to intercept.

Tess’s head flung back as the guy’s elbow struck the side of her head.

Rage blew through his body like wildfire as she stumbled into someone and fell to the ground. His muscles seized, torn between snatching the asshole up by his neck and helping her.

Swearing, Adonis hauled her to her feet and slammed his way through the swarm to the exit.

He’d chosen the right time. Behind him, angry voices crested the music. Bouncers jostled past them to break up the impending fight.

He spun around once they broke free of the doors. “You ok?”

“I’m fine.” She touched the side of her head and winced. “Happens all the time.”

“And you think I’m the crazy one.” He released her. She teetered sideways. “You’re not fine,” he snapped, reassuming his grip on her arm.

“Just seeing a little double. It’ll go away.” She tried to shrug him off.

Adonis ignored her and flagged a taxi. “We’re calling it a night.”

Tess didn’t put up an argument.

Ten minutes later they arrived at her building. Adonis used her access key to activate the elevator. “What floor?”

She flailed for the button.

“You live in a penthouse?”

“Jealous?”

“Have you seen my place?”

“Whatever.” Tess turned away from him.

Her laconicism bugged him. So he’d laid the arrogance on a little thick. It was who he was and she needed to get over it.

The elevator dinged.

She led them inside. “Anybody home?”

There was no answer.

He automatically scoped out the layout. It was decent enough. A few rungs above modest, but nothing to write home about. “Never thought I’d ever actually see where you lived.”

“It’s my stepfather’s.” She retrieved a plastic sandwich bag from the pantry.

He leaned over the countertop and continued his survey. “Same difference.”

“No it’s not. None of this is mine. The only person legally tied to this place or him is my mother.”

Sensitive much? “What happened to your real father?”

“I don’t know,” she said tightly and bagged ice from the freezer drawer.

“You’re lying.”

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter. Why are we talking about this?”

“Because I was curious. Seems like a fair trade given how much you know about me.”

“True story.” Tess applied the ice to her temple and winced away from it.

“Idiot. Cover it with something first.” He looked around and swiped a dishtowel hanging from the oven. “Let me see.” Adonis inspected the damage. The skin next to her right eye had already begun puffing with tender pinkness. No doubt tomorrow she’d have one hell of a shiner. “It’s not too bad.”

A smile crooked her lips. “Why are we always cleaning up after each other’s messes?”

“Because someone has to.” Concluding his preliminary examination, his gaze fastened to hers.

Gratitude and amusement warmed her wooded green eyes.

No one had ever looked at him in such a way.

His throat locked with emotion.

Adonis meant to move away, to redraw the boundaries before the ever-present smolder between them reflashed into a full on blaze. But he found his legs incapable of motion.

This couldn’t happen.

Not now.

Not anymore.

“Adonis.” Her voice shook.

He hadn’t realized how close they stood until her chest moved faster, harder against his. He relished in the fleeting brushes and agonized over the next.

The blood rushed from his brain to swell below his waistband.

Even with her head half cracked open he still wanted her. If that wasn’t a sign of how deeply he’d become invested, he didn’t what was. The effort it took to remove his hands from her pained him. He did the next best thing and braced his arms on either side of her. He clenched the counter. It grounded the currents accelerating through his body. “Tess,” Adonis said, his voice strained.

“We can’t,” she whispered.

“I know,” he pushed through gritted teeth.

“We shouldn’t.”

His knuckle brushed hers. “I know.”

Faintly, he heard the ice bag crash to the floor.

Fighting for control, he crouched down to collect it. Adonis stalled on the way back up. Her ankles were inches away. Her heat taunted him. The siren’s call of her skin begged for freedom, to slide against his bare flesh. And fuck him if he didn’t want the same.

As lightly as he dared, his fingers skimmed her ankle. Beneath his touch, he felt her muscles tense.

His pulse hammered in his ears. Adonis knew he was playing with fire. Although he hadn’t exactly promised to stay away from her, she didn’t belong to him.

He replaced his fingers with his mouth. She quivered as his lips burned along her calf.

Her hands reached down, either to shove him away or pull him closer. He dodged them all the same. “No touching,” he scolded softly. Though they were both in the wrong, he’d take the fall as the instigator. He didn’t mind being the bad guy.

The white knight cameo never suited him anyway.

He maneuvered the ice along the backside of her calf as his mouth climbed higher. Adonis paused when he reached the apex of her thighs. The memory of ravaging her here, at this very place, tested his self-restraint. Like a bloodhound, he drank in her scent at its strongest, hoarding it as long as his greedy lungs could last.

His body coiled tighter. She wanted this, probably as badly as he did. He could practically feel her dampness through the jeans.

Breathing hard, he placed a ragged kiss at her center and forced himself to ascend. He skimmed the hook and metal clasp, his mouth falling into the soft concave of her stomach. Her breaths had become shallow pants.

He dragged his mouth across her breast, teeth grazing her nipple. Even with the buffer of a bra and shirt, she responded with a convulsive shudder, betraying her sensitivity, one he ached to exploit.

By the time he reached his full height, her eyes had become dilated saucers. Tremors wracked her frame. She was so close to snapping he could taste it. He grew harder, the anguish of unfulfilled desire gutting him.

He couldn’t explain this ravenous need. Didn’t care to.

He burned for her.

He would burn for her.

He wanted to bury himself in her sweet, wet heat and fuck her until she lost her name. Until she forgot every worthless piece of shit she’d ever slept with.

Until there was only him.

“Tess?”

They jerked apart as their guests filtered into the kitchen.

Her mother and Cameron stood at the threshold.

He carried a stylish, pearlescent-colored gift bag in one hand. In the other dangled a bouquet of blue roses.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-16