Текст книги "Beautiful Storm"

Автор книги: Megan Isaacs

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

NOAH’S BREATHS LABOUR, his expression darkens, and his fiery hazel eyes are wild with anger. I’ve got so much to tell him, but I don’t know how, or where to start. I’m not even sure coming here is the best decision I’ve made. But I’m selfish and I need to see him, want to be close to him, feel his strength. I should have stepped into his arms when I had the chance. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance again.

Taking a swift look around the back room, I notice the same battered leather sofa through the gym’s doorless entrance. Noah’s steady gaze holds mine as I gesture towards it.

“I-is it okay if I sit down?” My voice wavers a little as the words stutter out.

I don’t know if he wants me here, and I wouldn’t blame him if he said, ‘No.’ His eyes soften a fraction as they survey mine, but the pain in them still glows like flickering embers.

How could I have ever let myself hurt him?

“Fuck. Yeah, sorry,” he answers quietly. His words are barely audible.

He’s still not recovered from what I’ve told him. I don’t know if he’ll ever recover from what’s still yet to be said. But I’m thankful he hasn’t asked me to leave.

As I sit on the sofa, Noah walks over but stops in the open doorway. His hands reach up above his head and grip the frame. The action lifts his T-shirt just enough to glimpse his deep, defined V, and with his low-slung jeans, the tempting trail of dark hair leading south. His stance is indifferent, but my reaction to him is what it’s always been. My breath catches in my throat, and I almost forget why I’m here.

It’s hard to look at him. He’s still gorgeous, but different, harder. The hair alteration is an obvious change, but not a bad one. If anything, it’s made his eyes more captivating. There’s a new scar under his right eye, which carves down onto his cheek. He’s added a new piercing, and additional tattoos adorn his body.

He’s more muscular than I remember, still lean but defined. When we were in the workshop I noticed the corded muscles in his arms working overtime with the continual flex of his fists. His bare chest gleamed with the sheen of sweat from the summer heat. A sight I’ve missed.

He’s still very much a man who would stop traffic, turn heads, and make knickers disintegrate with a glance.

My heart lurches at the thought. I didn’t expect him to remain faithful. Why would he? We had nothing left. I’d made sure of that. But the pain and jealously I feel is still a knife to my heart. I grimace as I try to battle the thoughts out of my head.

As he stands before me, an undertone of tension rolls off him, and I don’t need to touch him to know all his muscles are taut. He’s trying to suppress his anger. His jaw muscles clench intermittently and the veins in his temples throb. Part of me revels in the fact he can still feel protective towards me after everything I put him through.

A small spark of hope once dead glimmers in the darkness of my soul, and I take a deep, cleansing breath. This is starting to feel a little awkward. I have to say something. I tear my eyes away from his distracting body and stare at the wall beside him. I need to start somewhere. There’s more I need to tell him.

“Boo…” In my peripheral vision I notice Noah’s body stiffen at her name. “Layla didn’t play you.” I let out a sigh. “We didn’t play you. Did you really think I’d do that to you?” I move my eyes back to his rugged face.

His nostrils flare. “I have no fucking clue what you’re capable of anymore.”

“That’s unfair,” I counter, and twist my hands in my lap.

“I’ll tell you what’s unfair, being made a fucking fool of again.”

“I didn’t make a fool of you.”

“No? Try being in my shoes.” His hands drop from the frame and he steps a few paces towards me.

“How about you try walking a mile in mine? Then you can judge me for the things I’ve done.” My voice sounds defeated to my own ears. I drop my head into my hands and knead my temples, trying to eradicate the tension building behind them.

Noah lets out a strangled huff. “Convince me I’m wrong.”

There’s a challenge in his tone, and I push down the urge to yell at him. I hurt him and can’t take it back, but I can try and make it right, tell him the truth. My eyes drift to his and I hope he can understand.

“She honestly thought I was missing. Seriously, if I wanted to see you, I would have done what I did today. It’s not like I didn’t know where to find you.”

He retracts like I’ve punched him in the stomach. Shit. I forgot he had no way to know where I was. He didn’t have that luxury. I changed my address, my mobile number, and my surname.

“Look, I’m sorry.” I wrap my arms around myself, seeking some sort of comfort. “My point is I didn’t need to trick you into seeing me.”

“Keep going.” The words are squeezed out between his teeth as he leans his huge frame back against the wall. He’s still keeping his distance from me, when all I want is to be cocooned in his arms.

“For years I haven’t gone anywhere without telling her where I was, and what I was doing.”

There’s a pause as I struggle to find my next words.

“When Mac overdosed, that all changed. I didn’t have to explain my whereabouts. I was free. I had a couple of weeks where I could do what I wanted. And selfishly I took the chance to have a few days to myself. I should have told her, but for the last three years I’ve felt like I was under prison guard. You can’t understand what that’s been like.” My voice shakes and tears well in my eyes, but I won’t let them fall.

“Why?” I watch as Noah puts fragments together in his head. “Did that fucker threaten you?” His eyes darken and his voice is scratchy, as if he’s holding back his emotion.

“Yes. No. Well…” The words won’t come out.

“Did. He. Threaten. You?” he grits out.

His tone allows for no argument, and I know I’m out of options. His patience is wearing thin, and I can’t blame him.

I let out a sigh. “No. He didn’t threaten me.” I’m not ready to tell him the whole story, just yet.

Noah’s gaze pins me. He knows I’m still holding something back. And the tears I’m fighting to hold in escape. I look up at him through my waterlogged lashes.

“He… he threatened you.”

His eyes widen in disbelief before he spins and slams his palms against the wall. “And you didn’t think to fucking tell me? For fuck’s sake.”

He begins to pace in agitation, fists clenched tightly at his sides. “That’s why you pushed me away? Three wasted years, Lizzie. And all you had to do was tell me. You may not have noticed but I’m a big fucking boy, I can look after myself. Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

“I didn’t want to lose you.” My voice’s soft and a little unsure.

“You thought you’d lose me? Tell me what we’ve got now? If you had just said something, I would’ve killed the bastard. He never would have laid a finger on you again. I could never figure out what hold he had on you. Why I was never enough, why you chose him.” His pacing stops and he turns to me. “But you didn’t, did you?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” I shake my head. “Not in a million years would I have chosen Mac over you.”

He takes determined steps towards me then crouches down before dropping to a knee for support. His large hands come to rest on either side of my thighs. He still doesn’t touch me, but his heat radiates into me. I want to beg him to put his hands on me. His dark eyes search into mine. All that’s reflected is pain and regret.

“What aren’t you telling me?” His soft-spoken words sink right into my heart.

“What do you mean?” He knows me too well, knows I’m only giving as much information as necessary. After all this time, he can still read me.

“What aren’t you telling me, Lizzie? What you have said so far is unthinkable. I just wish you’d told me at the time.” He keeps his eyes locked on mine, his voice still low. “But you’re not telling me something because all of this has been before and during us, not after… I left you.” The last three words catch in his throat. “I’ve still got so many questions, but one needs answering now. You’d lived with the abuse before. What changed?”

He’s patiently waiting for me to answer him. The only visible evidence of his inner turmoil is the constant tic of his jaw. I wrap my arms tighter around myself and pull my gaze from his and down to my knees. I’m not ready for this. Bile rises from my chest, burning its way up my throat.

Noah’s tender fingers touch under my chin, and with a gentle nudge he raises my face, forcing my gaze to meet his.

“Lizzie?”

I’m held hostage by the way his eyes search my soul. “He…” I clear my throat of the words I’m choking on. “He tried to r-rape me.”

There’s no need to say anything else to him.

My body shudders as tears stream down my face. Noah crumples from what I can only assume is agony mixed with rage. His strong arms envelope me and crush me to his chest, and my willing body moves to his. The safe haven and comfort of his arms release a torrent of emotions I can’t control. My tears fall harder and my whole body shakes.

“That bastard better be glad he’s dead.” Noah whispers the words but the anger vibrates in his chest.

And all I can think is, for us, the worst is yet to come.

With a gentle push, I move out of his arms. He examines my face for a few seconds longer before he pushes back on his heels and rises to his feet.

“You should’ve told me.” The raw hurt in his voice entwined with the pure pain on his face sparks hope again.

“I couldn’t take the risk.” I push up off the sofa and come to stand in front of him. “He threatened to kill you. I could never have lived with myself.”

Noah’s burst of sarcastic laughter shocks through me as I stare at him.

“And you think I can live with myself, knowing what happened to you because of some fucking misguided idea you were protecting me?”

“He threatened to kill you!” My voice rises with my heated temper and despair.

Pushing past him, I stalk towards the closed door, Noah on my heels. He reaches me before I can click the lock and spins me around to face him. His arms cage me in against the wall. His heat so close and hitting me exactly where it shouldn’t right now. I breathe him in and all my muscles surrender to his presence. Heat pools between my thighs and my pulse races with desire.

“And it would’ve been fucking preferable to that bastard putting his hands on you.”

His face is so close to mine that if I lean forward my lips will touch his. Burning hazel eyes meet mine and widen as shock takes over his features, finally softening to a look I’ve longed to see for years. I take a breath to calm my fury.

The next move is his.

I’M IN LIZZIE’S face. The anger from a moment ago has subsided. The woman amazes me still. All she’s been through and I can’t help but act like a total bastard.

The sudden realisation that the position we’re in could make her feel threatened sends shockwaves through my body. But she doesn’t wilt away. She stares me down as I have her captured against the wall, pinned between my arms. The hurricane in her eyes swirls at full velocity, and I know I’m trapped in the tornado whipping up. Whether I’m to be sucked in or spat out remains to be seen.

At this proximity, I’m breathing her in. Always rainy days and fucking sunflowers. The swell of my cock drives me to my limit. I’m so close to the edge, it’s enough to send me over.

Fuck it.

I lean down and claim her mouth. Invading it. Taking no prisoners. She pushes her palms against my chest for a fraction of a second before softening in my arms. Passion ignites between us like a blast furnace.

No matter how often I’ve told myself to stay away, that I don’t want or need her, I love this woman. She owns me. My intense desire for her overpowers my fight or flight response, and I give in to desire.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I know this isn’t a good idea. I should be taking my time with Lizzie, but she’s in the driver’s seat after her initial hesitance, and her foot is firmly on the accelerator.

I’m as hard as stone against her, as she climbs me like she can’t get close enough. My tongue invades her mouth impatiently as she jousts with me. Her hands run over my body. Every touch sends lightning strikes to my groin. She grasps at the hem of my T-shirt with hungry hands and rips it over my head.

The instant the cotton passes between us, I feel deprived by the loss of contact. But it gives me the break I need to gain control of my senses. I step back away out of arms’ reach. Her chest rises and falls like a rough sea, lips swollen and eyes dripping with lust. Her breath hitches and her gaze locks onto the new ink on my chest she has never been close enough to see.

The sexual desperation between us is undeniable, but I need verbal clarification. Lizzie has been through too much for me to take without asking, no matter what signals are being given off. We can’t even have a conversation without ripping each other’s heads off, but tearing each other’s clothes off, even after all this time, comes as natural as breathing. I need to know.

“Lizzie, what do you want?” I’m fucking panting. The fear of rejection burns and I can’t look her in the eye, so I lower my head.

“Is it not obvious?” Her voice vibrates right down into my soul.

“No.” I shake my head subtly and lift my gaze to hers. “No, it’s not.” The words catch in my throat at the sight of the storm raging in her eyes. And I feel myself getting sucked into the storm’s wall.

“I’ve waited years for this. The thought of this moment has kept me going. I need you inside me.” She purrs the words.

My cock’s begging for me to take her, to stop asking stupid fucking questions.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I assure you, this”—she waves a hand between us—“is the only thing that has kept me sane. The thought of being with you again.”

I stare at her, unable to further force words out of my mouth. Instead I step forward into her space and lift her chin with my thumb and forefinger so she can look me fully in the eye. I need to be certain. I never thought I’d see the emotions that swarm her eyes again, or believe them to be true.

She places a hand around my neck and the other on my crotch, palming my dick through my jeans. “I don’t want you, Noah.”

My eyes widen with surprise at reading her wrong yet a-fucking-gain and I go to take a step back, but she pulls on my neck. “I need you… I don’t want gentle, and I don’t need you to make love to me. Just you, raw and unrestrained.”

It takes a split second to comprehend what she has said, what she’s asking for. As it registers, I crash my lips to hers, delving deep into her mouth, tasting her. She moans into the kiss, the vibration setting me on fire, and an uncontrollable groan escapes my lips.

I lift her, and her legs instinctively wrap around my waist. Her heat burns through my jeans and it drives me insane. Looking around the room, I hone in on the sofa and I stride over, throwing her unceremoniously onto it, making her giggle. The sound’s intoxicating.

She shuffles back so she’s propped up on her elbows but her body is laid out like a feast. It’s a sight I never thought I’d see again and it’s mouth-watering. She’s wild and wanton. Her caramel hair’s haphazard, lying around her shoulders and across her face. Her grey eyes peep out from under it, a tranquil but lustful look about them.

I run my hand over my head and down the back of my neck, holding it there. This needs to be good for her, and if I don’t calm down, I’ll be a thirty-second wonder.

She beats me to it and begins to remove her shirt, slowly popping open the buttons and letting her hand roam over her perfect tits. She lets the shirt fall open, revealing them caged in her bra, their fullness erupting from the cups and stiff peaks poking through the fabric.

I stand mesmerised by the sight as she continues down to her cut-off shorts. She kicks off her flip-flops while her hand continues on its path, unfastening the button and lowering the zipper. She does the casual shimmy shuffle women do as she hooks her fingers in the waist and ever so slowly lowers them.

All the time, her gaze holds mine. As she lies half naked on the sofa, her eyes turn questioning as I stand immobilised. The black lace underwear caressing her skin taunts me to touch her. I finally find my voice.

“You look fucking stunning.”

Internally, I’m memorising the view before me, and I’ll memorise every second which follows because I don’t know if, or when, it’ll ever happen again. The smile that crosses her face amazes me, it’s of a confident and self-assured woman, highly sexy but equally astounding in the circumstances. It’s those circumstances that are keeping me reined in.

I stand bare-chested and her hungry gaze roams over me. As she watches, I kick my boots off and step forward, flicking open the buttons of my fly. My cock springs free, and I smirk at the fact I’m commando today. Not a usual occurrence but effective from the expression on her face. Working quickly, I grab a condom from my wallet and throw it on the floor near her feet, my jeans follow.

“Let yourself go.” She stands and places her gentle hands on my pecs then glides her fingers down the crease of my abs.

My cock twitches against my lower stomach at the thought of her hand moving closer.

“You’re holding back on me. I’ve told you, Noah, I need you.” She leans forward, her minty breath brushing my face. “You’re thinking too much. You need to feel.” She drops to her knees and takes me between her lips.

A growl emanates from my chest as my head falls back and my hands, on autopilot, grab onto her hair. The heat of her mouth wrapped around me, taking me deep, is indescribable. I instantly harden more. My hips begin to move of their own volition, and it sparks the sexual aggressor in me. She knew it would. She wants me rough and out of control.

One of my hands moves to the nape of her neck, twisting her hair into a loose ponytail, which I use to pull her off my cock and up against my lips. I plunge into her mouth, my tongue stroking with hers, as my other hand snakes around her waist, pulling her against me, then teasing off her knickers. The taste of myself on her tongue drives me wild. The need to savour her overwhelms me. I guide her back on the sofa, spread her open to me, and bury my head between her thighs. I lick and suck at her clit and then delve deep into her pussy. She whimpers beneath me as my thumb joins in and works against her swollen nub.

Pulling back, I spread her legs wider to admire the view. I trail my fingers down the thin strip of hair to the delicate skin of her pink pussy. Licking my lips at the view, I taste her arousal. The view, her taste, having her where I’ve wanted her for so long, is almost too much.

Lizzie eyes me through hooded lids, and throws her head back when I sink into her with my fingers.

The woman writhing on my hand is beautiful, sinful, and so erotic I nearly explode on the spot. With my free hand, I reach up and liberate one of her tits from its confines. She’s fucking beautiful. I lean in and take it in my mouth, teasing her nipple with my teeth and tongue. Her muscles tighten around the hooked fingers twisting in and out of her glorious pussy, and she convulses beneath me.

She’s gasping for breath as I nestle in between her legs and hover over her. I devour her lips again before leaning back and running my hand down between her breasts and onto her abdomen. Gracefully, she arches under my touch. Grabbing hold of my cock, I palm it a couple of times, and watch as her breathing grows steady. I rub myself against her and revel in the feel of the wetness coating me.

“You need me, Lizzie?” I continue to tease her entrance. “Well, here I am,” I whisper gruffly in her ear.

She gasps as I drive deep into her, and I almost shoot my load like a fucking teenager.

“Shit, Lizzie, you’re like a fucking vice,” I breathe out almost reverently.

I have to gather every tiny shred of my willpower together to maintain my dignity. The little sounds of pleasure she releases are not helping my situation. As I begin to rock my pelvis against hers, I stare up into her eyes. Fuck me, they’re like watching a lightning storm with the sun glaring through the cracks in the clouds. Those stunning eyes have always been my downfall.

Shit. What am I doing?

I’m furious with myself. As I fight an internal battle, my thrusts come harder and faster. Almost punishingly. Agitated beyond all reason, I release a frustrated growl and pant heavily with exertion. I’m balls-deep in the one woman on the planet who obliterates me. Fucking hell. Our skins slap together and a sheen of sweat covers us, aiding me into driving deeper inside her. She screams my name out as an orgasm rips through her body.

It should have taken me with her, but my mind’s preoccupied with the repercussions of what we are doing. I withdraw my still exceptionally hard cock from her body, leap up off the sofa, and pace like a caged animal.

Her eyes become erratic, and confusion takes over her features. “What’s the matter? What are you doing?” she asks as she bolts up, gathering things to cover her luscious body.

I can’t help but stare, and I’m fighting myself because I know I shouldn’t.

“I don’t fucking know,” I yell at her. “That’s the fucking point.”

“You don’t get to shout at me. You”—she pokes a finger in my chest—“started that, not me.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” I pull at my non-existent hair, instead digging nails into my scalp. “Fuck,” I roar.

I’m pacing stark naked, with a raging hard-on, which slaps against me with every step. I laugh ironically at the absurdity of it all.

“What the hell is wrong?” she demands.

“You. You’re what’s fucking wrong, everything about you, don’t you get it? You. Are. Wrong.” My words are low as I try to rein in my self-disgust.

She looks like I’ve slapped her. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand. It doesn’t help I can’t get the right words out. Tears begin to trail down her cheeks, and my heart lurches in my chest. She tries to get dressed at warp speed, but fails, all the time swiping tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“You don’t get to put your dick in me then tell me I’m wrong. I didn’t ask for that.”

I shake my head. “You don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand? You don’t explain. You just keep telling me I’m wrong.” She draws in a shuddery breath. “Is it because of Mac?”

The question squeezes my heart with such savagery it almost stops, and it enrages me further. It’s a question which should never have entered her head, or left her lips.

“Fuck no,” I spit out. I never want her to think that. Ever. “I can’t fucking resist you. I never could. That’s always been my problem.”

“Well, for someone who can’t resist me, you’re doing a bloody good job of it right now.”

Her temper flares, and it’s sexy as hell. I want to jump her bones, but that’s what got me into this shit in the first place.

“What do you want from me, Lizzie? What do you want me to say?” I stop pacing and point down to my still very erect cock and serious case of blue balls. “Here’s the living proof.”

“All I want right now is for you to tell me the truth, because all that ‘living proof’ tells me is you don’t want me enough. It’s still bloody hard, you’re naked, and we aren’t having sex. What’s wrong with me?” she cries.

“You’re. Not. Fucking. Mine!” I virtually yell at her. Turning away, I throw my head back and stare at the ceiling, my hands resting on my hips.

And I drag the words, which have eaten at me for years, out of the depths of my soul.

“You’ve never been mine.”