Текст книги "Jagged Love"

Автор книги: Nicole Simone

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Our discarded clothes formed a path down the hallway as we stumbled into the apartment. Buttons were ripped off and pants were shoved to the ground until our underwear was the only barrier between us.

Andrew’s eyes took in my hot pink bra with satisfaction. “I love a woman in pink.” His fingers teased the crest of my breast and I shivered. “But I especially love what’s underneath.”

He slid the straps over my shoulders, placing hot kisses against my bare skin. Overcome with a need so fierce I felt as if I was swimming underwater, my hand dipped below his waistband.

Andrew gently nipped my plump bottom lip.

Pain mixed with pleasure. I found his thick hardness waiting for me and I wrapped my fingers around the length of his shaft. My hand pumped forward. Andrew’s groan vibrated through me. Stopping at the entrance to the bedroom, he lifted me off the ground and my legs tangled around his waist.

“Where are we going?” I asked as we changed direction.

“My art studio.”

“Your art studio?”

Andrew looked at me with desire. “I want to paint you, naked and sedated with pleasure. I want to run my paintbrush over your lush curves. I want to plunge deep inside you and fill you to the very brim.”

My mouth gaped open in an O. “That sounds… nice.”

“Nice? It sounds nice?” Andrew laughed. “Nice is reserved for kittens and soft fluffy things. What we are about to do is anything but nice.”

He shifted me higher on his waist so that my clit brushed his hipbone. A zap of pleasure hit my core. Squirming in his arms, my fingers dug into his back.

His gaze darkened. “If you keep doing that, we might not make it there.”

I swiveled my head around and saw we were near the kitchen. I had no idea where his art studio was actually located, but if we didn’t get there within the next five seconds, I might die. Lust coiled tightly in my belly like a rubber band about to snap.

Andrew’s thumb dragged over my throbbing sex. “You’re so wet.”

A gasp passed my lips as I arched into his touch. Desperation sunk me to a new level, begging. “Please, I need you inside me. Please, Andrew.”

He swallowed my pleas. Our tongues danced together and he lowered me to the ground onto the scratchy surface of the runner in the hallway. Shedding his boxers, I drank him in.

“Shit.” Frustration passed over Andrew’s face. “One second. I have to grab a condom.”

“It’s fine. I’m on birth control and I’m guessing you’re clean. Right?”

“Clean as a whistle.”

With that information out of the way, I reached greedily toward Andrew. “Great, now fuck me.”

“Such a dirty mouth,” he chided.

Both at our breaking points, Andrew shoved my underwear to the side and thrust inside me. He remained a slow and steady rhythm that was both maddening and mind blowing. Andrew flicked his tongue against my covered nipple. I whimpered as a tornado built.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Andrew purred, his eyes locked onto mine. “That’s it, come.”

Throwing my head backwards, a scream ripped from my throat as an orgasm racked through my body. Moments later, Andrew tipped over the edge. He slumped foreword, his dick twitching and spent.

I laughed, breathlessly. “What happened to having sex in your art studio?”

“Your not wearing any panties happened.” He rolled off of me. His cum dripped free, coating my inner thighs with the sticky substance. “I’ll get a rag to clean you up.”

He put his pants back on and walked to the bathroom. As I waited for him to return, I thought about the significance of Andrew inviting me into his art studio. Yes, we didn’t make it, however, Matthew said only Camilla was allowed in there when they were together. His studio was his sacred space and Andrew wanted me to see it. Actually, it was more like he’d wanted to fuck me in it, but that was neither here nor there. Hopefully, this mess with Big Ted would be gone by tomorrow and we could start fresh. Maybe we could be a real couple with normal problems like dirty dishes in the sink.

Seconds later, Andrew returned with a wet rag. “I’ll never get over how stunning you are, Haven.”

He got on his knees and cleaned me up. The rag was cool against my heated skin. I had never felt more cherished than when I was with Andrew. He knew how to treat me in bed and out. A rare quality ninety-nine percent of men didn’t have. The day he walked into The Roasted Bean was the luckiest day of my life. Helping me to my feet, Andrew held open a silk robe. I slipped my arms through the sleeves and tied the belt around my waist.

“Do you still want to see my art studio?” Andrew asked.

“Of course.”

We went upstairs to his office where he opened a door hidden in the ceiling. He pulled down a ladder and gestured for me to go first. I climbed the rickety steps. Andrew’s art studio was a converted greenhouse. The all glass structure offered an unobstructed view of the twinkling stars. His paintings, small and large, leaned against the walls while wood easels offered a glimpse into his works of progress.

I spun around in a circle. “This is incredible. It’s like something out of a movie.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets, looking like a proud father. “I know. I couldn’t believe my luck when the landlord said I could have it. Granted, it was pretty dilapidated at that time but it only needed a little love and care.”

“You did all the work yourself?”

“Of course. It just needed new plumbing, new floors and five quarts of window cleaner.”

My eyebrow quirked. “That’s all?”

Laughing good naturedly, he shrugged. “My dad taught me from a young age the importance of hard work.”

“Did he also teach you to be incredibly ADD?” Seeing his look of confusion, my thoughts tumbled out. “You bounce from one thing to another. Last year it was a pop up coffee shop and this year it’s painting.”

“I get bored easily and besides, what’s the fun in exploring one thing?”

“Yeah, but how do you afford to live like this?”

“A year ago, I was in law school and incredibly unhappy. Hating my life, unsure what to do about it, and hungry for adventure. My grandma passed away that fall and left me a large sum of money. She always told me to follow my own path so that’s what I did. I dropped out, traveled the world, and came back to Detroit with a fresh outlook.”

“So you can understand why I have to leave? To get that fresh outlook you’re talking about.”

“Of course,” Andrew said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t miss you.”

My heart stuttered in my chest. “You will?”

Walking to where I stood, he cupped my face in his hands. His brown eyes churned with endearment. “You’re an idiot if you think otherwise. You are the best part of my day.”

He lightly brushed a kiss against my lips. Before Andrew, it would have been as easy as packing a bag and hitting the open road. Now though, everything had changed. The idea of leaving him made me physically ache. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself though, if I acted like my mother and rerouted my dreams for a guy.

Andrew smoothed the crease between my brows. “Stop thinking so much.”

“I can’t help it. My brain didn’t come with an off switch.”

“Meditation would work wonders for you. Do you want to learn?”

Hokey-pokey religion stuff was never my cup of tea. My mom briefly dated her yoga teacher and they would practice in the living room. While he was the nicest guy my mom was involved with, he never wore shoes, which was unfortunate because he had the nastiest feet. I’m talking toenails that curled. I shivered in repulsion.

“I’m good,” I said. “I like to bury my problems and emotions under a layer of doubt until they fester and explode in a crying jag.”

“That’s healthy,” he said sarcastically.

“That’s me. I’m all about a healthy mindset. How did you find meditation?”

“I googled it.”

I snorted, slapping him on the arm. “Real funny.”

Andrew’s lips tugged up at the corners. He walked over to a pile of pillows, sat down, and patted the cushion next to him. I had a gut feeling whatever story he was about to tell had to do with Camilla. My legs crossed as I positioned myself.

“The first stop on my adventure was in India,” Andrew began.

“What was it like?”

“Congested with levels of poverty that were unlike anything I had never seen before.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen photographs in National Geographic magazines. It is profoundly sad.”

The thought of the magazine I had spent years collecting was now a pile of ash made me want to throw up. All those images ruined.

Andrew fiddled with a woven leather bracelet on his wrist. “It is sad, but it also shows how resilient the human spirit is. Anyways, I was walking the streets of Mumbai when I heard this flute music coming from a nearby alleyway. It was—” he paused and shook his head. “It was unlike anything I had ever heard before. In search of the source, I stumbled upon a group of people meditating. They were sitting there on their mats, completely still. It was a slice of nirvana amongst the grime. The man who was playing the flute, opened one eye and nodded. I nodded back. While I wanted to stay, I felt as if I was intruding so I left. The next day I returned at the same time and the next. It became part of my routine.”

“So, you continued that routine when you got home?”

“Yeah, I meditate in the morning for twenty minutes. It helps my creative process.”

Since there wasn’t a creative bone in my body, I didn’t have a process. Actually that wasn’t true. I was really good at drawing stick figures and semi-decent at writing. However, neither of those things had morphed into a hobby. I’d thought about majoring in food science but my grades weren’t stellar enough to get into college. Plus, money.

Andrew didn’t fit Camilla into his story but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a part of it. “Is that where you met her? Camilla?” I asked casually.

“Yeah, I met her in India. She was part of the group who did meditation.”

The woman I saw on the Polaroid was transferred to a courtyard. Her eyes closed, flowing red hair tumbling down her back and a peaceful expression was written on her face. She was the opposite of me in every way.

“A continental hookup? How very Humphrey Bogart of you,” I joked to lighten the mood.

Andrew cracked a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It should have stayed that way but when you meet somebody abroad, you forge this bond. Our relationship while slow to develop was like a virus. She infected me until I couldn’t think about anything but her.”

Jealousy flared. I wanted punch Camilla in the boobs and was unsure if I could stand to hear another word about her. However, I’d asked to know about their relationship. Andrew was simply complying with my wishes. Stupid curiosity.

“As a twenty-three-year-old, I thought that was normal.” Andrew looked up at the blanket of stars. “Consummation equaled love. Later I found out, consummation equaled them running away screaming because you stifled them.”

“I don’t think you know how to love any other way.” Andrew gave me the side eye. I held my hands in front of me. “That’s not a bad thing! I’m just saying you put your heart and soul into everything you do. Nothing is half assed. You put months of hard work into your art show and I’m guessing it was the same for the pop up coffee shop. I love that you are so passionate.”

“Thanks, and I love how cute you are when you’re trying to back peddle.”

“I’m not back peddling!” I cried. “It’s true.”

He rubbed my thigh, assuredly. “I’m just yanking your chain.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, my bottom lip pouted. “You’re mean.”

“I’m awesome.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Although he was joking, Andrew was awesome. His adoring fans were proof I wasn’t the only one who felt the same.

“You are ridiculous,” I countered. “So what happened next? You got consumed and then?”

Andrew sighed. “And then we traveled around Europe together. For the most part, it was amazing. Camilla was a yoga teacher by trade so she paid her half by teaching at different studios. At the end of the three months, I invited her to live with me in the United States. Problem was, she wasn’t a U.S. citizen.”

I saw where this was going. “You proposed so she could stay?”

“Yes. We lasted eight months before we broke up. She missed her family in Denmark and felt as if my American ways were sexist. It has been six months since she left.”

Studying his face, I tried to interpret his elusive emotions. While I didn’t want to know if he still loved her, my heart needed to.

“Are you….” I gulped. “Do you still have feelings for her?”

“Do I?”

It was as if he was asking the question to himself. Tipping his chin to the glass ceiling, my pulse hammered. A beat passed, then another, and another. Our relationship’s future depended on his answer. While I would be shattered if he said yes, I would survive. I always did. Nonetheless, my toes and fingers crossed as I waited for Andrew to speak.

A magnificent smile split apart his cheeks. “No, I don’t.” Relief flooded his words. “I don’t at all. We were ill matched. Traveling around together, everything was new. We built a life on that newness but once Camilla came here, she was a mismatched puzzle piece. I loved the idea of her but I don’t think I ever loved her.” He looked over at me, his eyes searching. “Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense.”

Andrew gathered me into his arms. I snuggled into his side and my head rested against his chest. His heart beat in rhythm with mine.

“I’m all yours, Haven,” Andrew said. “Heart, body, and soul. I’m yours.”

I squinted against the harsh assault of sunlight. Rolling onto my side, Andrew’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheek as he slept peacefully. We hadn’t gone to bed until late last night after he’d made good on his promise. We had sex underneath a blanket of stars and on top of a mound of pillows. I couldn’t believe he was mine. A thousand butterfly wings flapped in my stomach. Hearing the story about what happened between Camilla and him wasn’t what I expected. Honestly, Matthew had made it sound as if she died in a horrific crash, when they’d broken up because of a cultural divide. That was easier to swallow. Also, it helped she was a million miles away in Denmark and couldn’t pop by at a moment’s notice. Could you imagine? That would be awkward. Andrew’s arm flung over my stomach as he mumbled. He smelled like sex and laundry detergent. Gently shoving him off of me, my feet hit the cold hardwood floors.

He yanked me back to his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I have to take a shower.”

“What kind of shower? Dirty or clean?”

“You’re insatiable. We have already done it three ways to Sunday.”

“I think you mean six ways to Sunday,” he corrected.

“Whatever.”

His erection was visible through his basketball shorts. I itched to feel him in my mouth. My tongue licking him like an ice cream cone. Andrew had ignited a 24/7 sex vixen

I shot him a devilish smirk. “Come on, let’s go wash away our sins.”

He fist bumped the air, jumped out of bed and threw me over his shoulder. I squealed as he smacked my ass. Running into the bathroom, he put me down. Andrew adjusted the shower to the ideal temperature while my clothes fell away. Steam enveloped the space.

“I feel like I’m in a porno,” I said.

Andrew’s gaze darkened as he turned around. “This is better than a porno because it’s real.”

I couldn’t disagree. For the next twenty minutes or so, we ruined the entire concept of a shower and got more dirty than clean. By the end, my legs felt like Jell-O and I had twenty minutes until I had to drop off the money to Big Ted. Towel drying my hair, I changed into a pair of slacks and a shirt. I look like I’m going to an interview at a bank.

Andrew smoothed his hands down my arms. “Are you nervous?”

“I wasn’t until you said something.”

“Sorry.” He placed a kiss on top of my head. “I’m going to make coffee. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

My hand shook as I applied mascara, getting black smudge on my eyelid. Flinging the wand across the room in frustration, I inhaled, counted to three and exhaled. It helped a little.

48204 was considered one of the top most dangerous zip codes in the United States and once my home. In the in-between periods when my mom didn’t have a sugar daddy, we’d lived on the top floor of a crumbling Victorian. Instead of imaginary friends, I had rats that lived in the walls. They were a family with a single dad and his two daughters. Hector, Luanne, and Lucy. Big Ted lived in the apartment two doors down. Swapping drugs was the equivalent of borrowing a cup of sugar. For my mom, it was the ideal set up. For me, it was a house of horrors. I used to think the shadows dancing on the walls were monsters, waiting until my eyes closed to eat me. My saving grace was Monica. We’d met in third grade when she let me borrow her crayons because she thought the clouds I was drawing weren’t pink enough. We were attached from the hip from that day forward. Adopting her home as mine, Monica’s grandmother basically treated me as her own granddaughter. I left home at the age of seventeen and hadn’t been back to my neighborhood since. The homeless shelters, Monica’s house, and street benches were on the other side of the 39 freeways. Far away from 1936 Rosemary Lane.

Adding a swipe of blush, I twisted my hair into a knot. The mirror reflected a scared little girl whose tough exterior was crumbling. Since moving into Andrew’s, the need to put on an act wasn’t as dire anymore. He knew who I was and liked me all the same. Nonetheless, that mask was essential to surviving this money drop off. I slipped it on. My features hardened, my eyes became flat, and my lips thinned. Shaking out my shoulders like a boxer preparing to battle, I psyched myself up. There was no other choice. Sumiko depended on me. Once my armor felt locked into place, I walked into the kitchen. Andrew had poured coffee into a thermos and set a blueberry muffin on a plate. While normally my appetite was a black hole, my stomach couldn’t handle anything at the moment.

Andrew handed me the thermos. “We should get going.”

“Yeah, we should.” Yet my feet wouldn’t move.

“This is a simple job, Haven. You give the money to Big Ted and leave. Then this whole thing will be behind you.”

“Will it though?” My eyebrow arched. “What if this is just a ploy to shake me for more money? I give him this check and then what? Walk away? Nothing is that simple.”

“I don’t know how to reassure you because your past and the people attached won’t go away. Physically maybe, but not mentally. That’s a whole other battle you have to fight. Just know that I’ve got your back.”

Gratefulness wrapped me in its embrace as I looked at Andrew. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

I unscrewed the top of the thermos and drank deeply. Wiping my hand across my mouth, the smooth acidic taste of coffee lingered on my tongue. Since it was too early for a shot of tequila, liquid courage in the form of caffeine would have to do.

I nodded. “Ok, let’s go.”

Andrew’s car roared to life and before I could let doubt creep in, we drove head first into my childhood.

The neighborhood hadn’t changed a bit. Houses that were skeletons of their former selves loomed over the streets, paint peeling off in ribbons. The crater-sized holes I almost killed myself riding my bike over weren’t fixed and the lawns weirdly green as ever.

Slowing to a crawl, Andrew peered out the window. “Which one is it?”

“It should be up ahead to your left.”

My hands knotted in my lap while nerves tumbled in my stomach. I hoped Big Ted met me outside. I didn’t want to go inside that rat infested shit hole called an apartment building unless necessary. Did Sumiko live there now? I hoped not, however, addicts stayed wherever the drugs were.

“It’s that one.” Pointing to the Victorian house with the gingerbread trim, my stomach lurched. “Jesus, it’s worse than I remember.”

“It’s not so bad,” Andrew said skeptically.

“What are you talking about? A gust of wind would knock it down.”

Three men sat on the sagging porch, smoking a cigarette. Their beady eyes trained on Andrew’s beamer. Rap music blasted from a stereo next to them and an urge to clutch my pearls overcame me—even though I didn’t own pearls, never had. Six years away and the street kid inside me had been obliterated. No time like the present to reclaim it.

“Stay in the car.” Unbuckling my seat, I tried to keep the quiver out of my voice. “I’ll be right back.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m not letting you go inside there alone.” His cheeks reddened with anger as he drew an imaginary line in the air. “You see this? This is the rational side and right now you’re on the insane side. Let’s jump back over.”

Although Andrew didn’t appear as if he had money, due to the fact he dressed like a skater boy, his mannerisms and the way he talked were a dead giveaway. Big Ted would certainly want additional income as soon as Andrew opened his mouth. Drug dealers saw people as two things: banks and clients. Andrew was a bank and he was already risking his career by loaning me the seven hundred dollars.

I laid my hand on his arm. “I appreciate your concern but this is between me and Big Ted. You have done enough. Please, let me know handle this on my own.” Andrew scowled and my gaze softened. “I have survived twenty-three years without you.”

“I know you have but I don’t like the idea of you going in there unprotected.”

“I have my cellphone on me. If anything bad happens, I’ll text you 911 and you can bust in there, guns blazing like Rambo.”

Trying not to smile, his upper lip twitched. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. A telltale sign I had won this round.

Kissing Andrew on the cheek, I opened the car door. “Remember Rambo.”

“I would channel Rambo and a million other action heroes to save you,” he said sincerely.

My heart grew five times over. “I know you would.”

The car door slammed shut and I faced the house that stored my demons. The men on the porch curled their lips as my shoes smacked against the cement pathway. They clicked off the stereo. Tension coated the silence. I squared my shoulders while my hand reached into my pocket. The canister of mace rested comfortably in my palm.

The man closest to the railing stood. Burn marks mottled his cheek. “Where do you think you’re going, girly?”

“I’m here to see Big Ted.”

The other two cackled. I looked at all three of them like the scum they were. “It’s not a joke. He is excepting me and if you would step aside, I can go along with my business.”

The man with the burn marks stepped closer. His sour breath reeked of sauerkraut and cigarettes. I resisted the urge to puke on his grime-covered sneakers. “What business do you have with him?”

My eyes met the man’s in an unspoken challenge of who would back down first. It sure as hell wouldn’t be me. Rolling over meant getting kicked until your ribs broke.

“Hey! She’s with me,” Big Ted barked.

The air of hostility shattered. The man’s head swiveled over his shoulder and when he saw Big Ted standing in the doorway, he shrunk three sizes. He hunched his body in on itself.

A self-satisfied smirk spread across Big Ted’s face like he was pleased at the amount of power he still held. His gaze focused on mine. “You’re here.”

“I am. Where else would I be? Your threatened the lives of everybody I love if I didn’t get you this money.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think you loved anybody.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked at the street. “Guess I was wrong.”

I followed his gaze. Andrew was halfway out the car with a strained expression. I knew he wanted to act on his alpha tendencies and come to my rescue. He had no idea how much it meant that he respected my wishes to stay put. Andrew’s dark eyes wordlessly asked if I was ok. Nodding, his features didn’t appear any less strained.

Do I love Andrew? It was too early to tell but I did care about him a whole heck of a lot more than I was comfortable with.

Big Ted cleared his throat. “Do you have the money?”

“Yes.” Reaching into my pocket, I unearthed the check Andrew had given me. Before I handed it to Big Ted, there was something I had to be clear of. “As soon as I give you this, you and me are done. You stay out of my life, my sister’s life, and everybody else’s. You are dead to me. Understood?”

His eyes black as coals sparked with anger. “You really think you can tell what I can do or not do? Don’t you see how my own men cower with fear when I’m around?”

“I’m not one of your men and I’m sure as hell not scared of you. Why should I be? You have already taken a sledgehammer to my life and destroyed everything close to me.”

Taking a menacing step forward, I held my ground as a sadistic smile spread across his face. “I can make you watch the blood leave your boyfriend’s body.”

Fear catapulted straight to my heart but my face remained emotionless. “That’s not who you are, Ted. You don’t kill people; you have your minions doing your bidding. A real man would hold the gun in his hand and be responsible for the bullet that tears into a man’s body.”

“You are toeing the line, girly,” Ted growled.

I stood toe to toe with him, my chin jutted upwards, and we locked eyes. A bravery that didn’t dive below the surface seeped into my words. “Then prove it. I’m sure you have a gun somewhere on you. Aim it at my head and kill me.”

Big Ted’s jaw ticked while his hand moved behind him. My breathing became shallow and my pulse kicked up three notches. I wanted to swallow my dare but it was too late for that. Waiting for the cold nozzle against my temple, time slowed.

Abdication entered Big Ted’s gaze. “You are fucking crazy.”

“I learned from the best—my mother.” Wasting no time, I brushed past him and smacked the envelope against his chest. “Where’s Sumiko?”

“Living room.”

People lay passed out on the overstuffed couches, their heads lulled to the side. Discarded needles and bags of drugs haphazardly littered the floor. Sumiko stared blankly up the ceiling, motionless. I chose my footsteps carefully as I walked to where she lay.

“Sumiko?” I whispered furiously.

Her unfocused gaze roamed the room until it settled on me. Saliva pooled in the corner of her lips. Bending down at the knee, I took her limp wrist into my hands. Her pulse was weak and threaded. Jesus.

Lifting Sumiko to her feet by her armpits, I snaked my arm around her waist. “How much did you shoot up?”

As if she couldn’t support her head, her chin tucked to her chest. Based on my years with my mother, Sumiko was borderline overdose. Andrew and I needed to get her to a hospital pronto. Dragging her through the house like a rag doll and onto the porch, I signaled for help. Andrew bounded up to us, swept Sumiko into his arms and laid her on the backseat of the car.

“How far is the hospital?” I asked him.

“About fifteen minutes.”

“Ok, let’s go.”

As the car peeled out into the street, I glanced back at Sumiko. Despite the mistakes and choices she had made, at the core she was a good person. As a little girl, she was a ray of sunshine but her father had stolen her spirit. I should have protected her. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I climbed into the backseat and put her head in my lap. As my hands stroked her hair, I softly sung our favorite song, “You Are My Sunshine,” underneath my breath.