Sated (10 page)

Moving onto her knees, Arbor straddled his crossed ankles and crawled her way up to his thighs before settling into his lap. The apex of her thighs cradled his erection as her palms slid over his shoulders. She encircled his neck. Without a word, he tugged the knot loose on her robe. He needed her bare skin against his. When the only thing separating them was his jeans, Trey wished he hadn’t bothered pulling them on earlier. Nonetheless, he’d settle for what he could get.

With her gorgeous body bared for his viewing pleasure, he dipped his head and touched his lips to her collarbone because he’d always wanted to do so. If wishes were gold, he’d never go hungry again.

“Tell me something about yourself that nobody else knows,” Arbor demanded, sounding breathless. There was only one secret he kept close to his heart. One tiny thing no one else in the world knew.

“I’m completely in love with you.”

She stopped breathing. He felt it happen. Moving slowly, she leaned away from him, meeting his stare. Arbor looked stunned.

“You don’t know me.”

That was bullshit, and he barely kept from saying so. He’d spent every waking moment in her company for months now. Instead of arguing, he decided to prove himself.

“You’re the only child of a single parent. Even though your mom—whose name is Patty, by the way—worked two jobs to make ends meet, she still managed to always be there for you. When you were twenty-two, you broke your ankle coming out of your apartment during an ice storm. Your favorite color is yellow, but you refuse to wear it because you think it makes you look fat. Which is completely ridiculous. You have a phobia about nasty bathrooms and you don’t like it when strangers hug you. When people bite their fingernails, you cringe.” She kissed him, cutting off the thousand things he had left to say.

Arbor didn’t close her eyes. That was a first for her. Through lowered lashes, she studied Trey’s face as he kissed her. He was damn sexy with his heart exposed. Not to mention, his lips were still swollen from the night before and, every time she tried to pull away, she found herself going back for another taste. They were addictive. The beard burns on his neck didn’t hurt his appeal either.

Trey confused her, even as he kept her aroused. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe his words. She didn’t know where to go with them. Fuck. She was so weak. Even knowing she already possessed way more than she deserved, Arbor couldn’t say no. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be a universal problem, nor had it been a lifelong one. It extended to the occupants of this house and nowhere else.

Dragging herself away, she cupped his cheeks and brushed her fingers over his lips. She swept her hands through his hair, making it stand on end, and toyed with the stubble on his jaw. Every touch she’d wanted and missed in the past few months came rushing to the surface. Her gaze never left his mouth. She was waiting. For what, Arbor didn’t know. They were perched on the edge of something huge. The anticipation was eating her alive. Somehow, she knew whatever Trey said next would solve every puzzle.

“If you could see your face right now.”

Arbor’s gaze lifted to his. At his statement, she’d never been more curious in her life. “What would I see?”

Trey’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he answered, “The best part of the movie.”

His odd response surprised a chuckle from her. “I love that answer and I don’t even know what it means.”

He shrugged. “You’re wearing the same expression you have when you get to the best part of each movie.” It made her chest hurt a little that he was so amazing. If anyone deserved the sunshine, it was him.

“Exactly how often do you stare at me?”

His smile was unrepentant. “Always.” Arbor curled her nose. She did a thousand unfortunate things every day that didn’t need a witness.

“Why?” His smile faded. Arbor immediately wished she hadn’t asked. “Never mind. You’re entitled to have some thoughts you don’t share.”

“I think I’m memorizing you.” The way he said it; damn, it tore at Arbor’s heart. Trey brushed his fingers through her hair, combing it away from her eyes. It was something she would’ve done to keep it from drying in a funky way. “When you’re done with me, I don’t want to forget a single detail about you. There’s nothing special about me at all. I’m not famous or rich. Actually, the thought of standing on stage in front of thousands of people makes me feel a bit sick. I don’t have anything to offer you that compares to all of this. You have no reason to keep me. Watching the clock tick down on my time with you makes me desperate.”

“You don’t have much faith in me.”

For the most part, Trey ignored her protest. Only his pause showed he’d heard her at all. “All I have to barter with is my heart and soul. It terrifies me how far I’d go to hang onto you.”

“This body is nice too. Don’t forget that part of the bargain.”

His smile was back, but it wasn’t real. “Getting too deep for you, huh?” No. He wasn’t, but she didn’t have his way with words, and she needed his happiness. Brushing her palms down his chest, she shaped his every line.

“I didn’t want you to leave anything out. After all, you can’t count your soul. You sold that when you were seventeen for a ’68 Shelby.” Ah. Now the smile was genuine.

“I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“How could I forget? Almost two whole years of bagging groceries in your grandfather’s store and begging him for every extra hour you could get in hopes of saving enough to buy it, only to have him give the car to you three months before graduation.” Pausing, Arbor traced the tiny moon-shaped scar beside his left ear. “Then you wrecked it two days later. A complete loss.” She met his gaze, doing her best to keep the satisfaction from her expression as she continued. After all, she knew some stuff about him too. “Up until your grandfather—whose name was Frank, by the way—died ten months ago, he never let you live it down.” Trey wasn’t smiling any longer, but it was okay. She wasn’t finished.

“When you were eight, you got beaten up at the bus stop by Owen Hardell. When you went home with a black eye, your dad beat you for losing the fight. This continued every day until you won. Once Owen learned his lesson, it took teachers another two weeks to notice the bruises didn’t end with the schoolyard fights. Social services sent you to live with your grandparents. Your mom—whose name was Gabby—died in a car accident when you were three. Even though you were with her at the time, you weren’t hurt.” He opened his mouth as if he intended to interrupt her. Arbor covered it with her hand and continued before he could stop her. “Your dad—Carl—started drinking afterward and never stopped until he died when you were twenty-three. You’ve never been married. Somehow, you’ve managed to go your whole life without ever breaking a bone and, God help you, you deserve so much better than me. Not that I intend to let you realize it.” Trey touched his lips to the palm of her hand before tugging it away from his mouth.

“There’s no one better than you.”

Chapter Six

“The world is in mourning today after the plane carrying the popular band, Exile, went down overnight outside a private Louisiana airstrip. All five members including front men, Killian Moore and Lyric Wynters, were killed upon impact.”—New Orleans Tribune

Present day…

Arbor was staring at the toes of her shoes as she stepped off the elevator. Lyric wasn’t sure why, but she’d always had some paranoia issue about stepping over the gap between the lift and the floor. It was one of those tiny details that made her who she was. One of the many things he’d missed. When her chin lifted, her steps slowed. Her surprise over finding them waiting for her was written in every line of her face. He straightened away from the wall. Killian did the same. In true Arbor style, she didn’t greet them the way anyone else would.

“There’re seven billion people in the world.”

A low chuckle left Killian’s lips, but he didn’t ask. Lyric wasn’t as controlled. “What does that matter?”

“You’re the only two I want to see, and you both look very happy today.” Not nice or hot. They looked happy. Damn. It was true.

“We’re ecstatic,” Killian agreed before Lyric got the chance.

His palms itched to touch her. “You’re smiling too,” Lyric pointed out to keep from pouncing on her.

Arbor pulled a face. “Don’t laugh. For a moment, I felt like I was coming home.”

It was hard. Lyric bit back the stupid grin that was growing inside him. Not for the reasons she would suspect him of should he let it loose. His happiness was hard to contain. To keep it from happening, he pointed out the obvious.

“You are coming home.”

She eyed the door next to him. “If you say so,” she muttered under her breath, but Lyric still heard it. “Anyhow,” she said, a bit louder. “It’s almost funny. I was just thinking about how I wished I could see you, and here you both are.”

“Even the gods couldn’t keep us away.” Lyric had never meant anything more in his life. Thankfully, Killian spoke up, keeping him from making an ass of himself.

“Go get some jeans on, love.”

“Why?” Even as Arbor questioned him, she moved to unlock the door, obviously intent on doing as Killian bade. Lyric didn’t give him time to answer.

“We’re going to a party and you can’t wear that skirt on my bike.”

“I’m guessing you don’t mean the kind you pedal.”

Considering the humor in her voice, Lyric assumed she was joking. “Hurry. We’ve been waiting.” At his order, she rushed inside. Killian flashed him an amused look. Arbor had never been capable of arguing with him. Lyric didn’t know why. He never said anything special. It seemed some things never changed. The way his chest tightened, muscles bunched to spring, Lyric silently acknowledged the way Arbor made him feel was something else that hadn’t changed one bit. She was an addiction. He didn’t know how else to explain it. In her presence, his skin itched to feel hers. When she was out of reach, his hands shook from the withdrawals.

Arbor reappeared, wearing jeans and breathing hard, but her smile was luminous. “Ready,” she called as if it had been a race. She held out his jacket. “Here you go. See. I didn’t forget to return it.” Killian’s eyes danced with humor, but he held his tongue.

“Hmm,” Lyric hummed, reluctant to show his humor. “I see.” Reaching out, he accepted her offering before tossing it over her shoulders and tucking her arms inside. With an exasperated huff, Arbor let it happen. After tugging her hair from beneath the collar and smoothing the lapels down—a move he enjoyed way longer than necessary—he linked his fingers through hers. “Ready?”

Killian made a show of locking her door and pulling it closed. “She’s ready,” he answered on her behalf. Arbor rolled her eyes, but the mischievous smile she wore said she wasn’t really irritated. Walking backward, Lyric tugged her toward the elevator while Killian crowded her from behind.

The cold seeped through his t-shirt as his back hit the wall inside the lift. It barely registered as Arbor’s body sank into him. Killian’s hands flattened against the wall on either side of his head as he caged them in, with Arbor pressed between them. She didn’t complain. With his head bowed, staring down at Arbor, Killian’s eyes were hidden from Lyric. The flush of arousal across his cheeks wasn’t. Arbor’s eyes fell closed and stayed that way as Killian’s lips touched her cheek. Lyric’s chest swelled. He owned the world. Right here. In this space. Everything he loved was here.

Arbor’s fingers brushed his waist—skin on skin—making him realize her hands had found their way beneath his shirt. A sound came from the back of his throat at the contact. He was incapable of controlling it. It was need, want, desire, achingly unique passion, and longing. Perhaps there wasn’t a word strong enough to describe the moan escaping him. Arbor’s lips parted and her chest rose as if inhaling the sound into her lungs. Finding his hand, she touched her palm to his. For a moment, they lingered there and Lyric thought his heart would explode from the overload of emotion. She threaded her fingers through his and Killian did the same. Savoring the sensation, Lyric slowly closed his fingers over their joined hands. His throat swelled. He couldn’t speak. Eyeing her closely, Lyric searched for any sign of recognition. With her eyes closed, she relaxed into Killian’s chest.

“Now I’m home,” she whispered.

Tears filled his eyes, forcing Lyric to blink them away. In a desperate attempt at holding his shit together, Lyric focused on Killian. He looked every bit as wrecked as Lyric felt. Their gaze met briefly before Killian tilted his chin up and blinked at the ceiling. It was the longest and the shortest elevator ride Lyric had ever taken. When the door slid open, bringing their moment to an end, Arbor’s eyes shot open. A blush touched her cheeks.

“I forgot where we were.”

Her admission lifted the heavy weight from his shoulders, making him chuckle. “Where did you think we were?”

She turned away before answering. It didn’t matter. Lyric heard her words as if she’d screamed them. “Does it matter? We’re together.”

Damn right. Forever.

Hunter, Echo, and Lindsay were waiting at the curb. Straddling a burgundy-colored Harley, Hunter balanced a helmet on his thigh. He dipped his chin in acknowledgement when they cleared the door. Lindsay being Lindsay, she was in her own world, staring into space. A vague smile passed over the blonde’s features when she spotted Arbor before she went back to clinging to Hunter and shutting out the world.

On the other hand, Echo wasn’t as contained. Smiling ear to ear went against her dark personality, but Arbor had always had that effect on her. Without waiting for Hunter to offer, Echo snatched the helmet from his lap.

“Yay. Arbor is going to play with us,” she cheered, skipping to Arbor’s side and handing over the helmet. “Here you go, babe. We’ve been waiting a million minutes for you.”

A surprised chuckle fell from Arbor’s lips. “A million minutes, huh?”

“Yep. I counted,” Echo said, planting a loud kiss on Arbor’s cheek before rushing back to the black Harley parked behind Hunter. She called over her shoulder, “Come on, Killian.”

Ignoring her, Killian wrapped his arms around Arbor’s waist, drawing her against his chest. “You’ll ride with Lyric. You’ve always…” Killian stopped, obviously catching his mistake. Before she could question him, Killian dropped a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. “You’re distracting,” he said, covering up his slip. “And Lyric has better self-control than I do.” At Arbor’s low laugh, Lyric released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. They couldn’t fuck up. There was no telling what would happen. “Wear the helmet,” Killian warned, kissing her one more time before throwing his leg over his bike. Echo climbed on behind him.