Tangled (31 page)

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Authors: Em Wolf

BOOK: Tangled
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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.

 
 
 

Chapter 18

 

Maia
glanced between the players of their self-made soap opera and the suffocating
tension. “I’m just going to…go.”

Her
mother’s departure shattered the spell. “Cam. Hey.” Tess tried to work past the
shock of seeing him here. “What’s up?”

“I
was going to drop off your present. I ran into your mother in the lobby,”
Cameron said vaguely. His gaze slid to Adonis. “What are you doing here?”

“What
does it look like? Helping your girl toy,” he said, annoyance intentionally lacing
his tone. “Do what I said with the ice and take some ibuprofen. Hopefully your
face won’t be too busted in the morning.”

“Gee,
thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said, grateful for his brusqueness.

“Whatever.
I’m out.” Shooting her an indecipherable look, Adonis took his leave. He passed
by Cameron without exchanging a word.

She
didn’t budge as Cameron deposited the gift bag and flowers on the island. His
expression was flat, emotionless. “So. You and Adonis.”

“It’s
not what you think,” Tess rushed to explain. “I took him to a metal concert and
got elbowed in the face. He was just making sure I got home ok.”

“You
took Adonis to a concert?”

“It’s
not like you would’ve come with me,” she countered, her temper flaring at his
sarcasm. “And what’s this about you telling him to stay away from me?”

He
didn’t hesitate with an explanation. “I was doing you a favor.”

“How
is that a favor? We’ve gotten past our differences. Hell, we might almost be
friends. I thought you out of everyone would appreciate that.”

Fault
lines rived his sangfroid. “So you think I should appreciate the fact that my
best friends fucked behind my back and are now conjoined at the hip?”

Shame
and anger set her cheeks to a furious boil. “I cannot believe you are still
upset over that.” She marched toward him and clamped her arms around his waist.
“For one, we weren’t even together then, so stop trying to hold that over me.
Two, you’re the one I want, Cam. It’s always been you.”

His
eyes hunted for some grain of truth within hers. Tess tried to relay her
feelings. She cared for him. She truly did. He had to see that.

Slowly,
he cupped her face. His thumbs stroked the line of her jaw. He bent down, his
mouth touching hers. The gentle brush of lips hardly qualified as a kiss.

Tess
clutched his face and opened her mouth to deepen the kiss. Her tongue worked
against his frantically, desperately.

But
Cameron remained largely unresponsive. He drew back. “Do you have feelings for
him?”

A
lie stuck in her throat. She wanted to tell him the truth. Her compassion had
become meshed with something else. She could untangle it. They could work this
out.

His
hands fell to his sides. “That’s all I wanted to know.”

Panic
rocked her. “Cameron, please.” She grappled for his arm, but he evaded her
reach.

“Don’t
Tess,” he said, suddenly enervated.

“Why
won’t you listen to me? I love you,” she let slip.

The
confession seemed to forestall his departure. Hope swept bountifully through
her. His shoulders became rigid. “But I’m not the only one you’re in love with,
am I?”

Her
mouth worked without sound. How could she explain an attraction she barely understood?
She couldn’t be in love with Adonis. It defied logic and good sense.
 

“That’s
what I thought.” He recovered his overcoat and draped it over one arm. “Merry
Christmas, Tess.”

Unshed
tears cramped her vision. His name was poised on her tongue, but she knew
there’d be no reeling him back.
 

It’d
be ok. She’d call him tomorrow once he had time to cool down. Then everything
would go back to normal.

Tess
slumped to the floor. The throbbing at her temple had nothing on the violent
campaign in her chest.

She
could fix this. All she needed was a little time. This couldn’t be the end. Not
after she’d fought so hard.

A
cool hand swept across her forehead. Sniffling, Tess craned her neck. Her
mother didn’t say a word as she joined her on the floor.

“He’s
gone,” she prated vacantly. “I don’t think he’s coming back.”

“Tess,
what did you do?”

“Why
is it always me? Why do I always have to fuck up? I didn’t sabotage anything,”
she spat, throwing the word back in her face.

Her
mother didn’t address the dig. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Her
fingers plunged into her hair as the truth spilled out: her one night stand
with Adonis, getting together with Cameron, getting to know Adonis, her
conflicted feelings about both of them.

“You
have to choose.”

“But
I love Cameron.”

“Just
because you’re grateful to someone doesn’t mean you’re in love with.” Her
mother hesitated. “Take your father for an example.”

Tess
bristled. Her mother rarely spoke of the man who—in her opinion—was
nothing more than a sperm donor.

“I
was young and naive when I met him and looking for a way out. So when he helped
me move to the city, I never questioned why he never stayed over, why we rarely
went out, or why he refused to sign you or your brother’s birth certificates.
The sun rose and set on him.”

“But
he proved you wrong.”

“In
the worst ways,” she said with a pinch of self-derision. “I had sense to follow
him one day. When I found that he’d lied to me, I threatened to go to his
wife.”

“And
that’s when he moved his family across the country?”

“Not
only that. He cut off me off financially. And suddenly I was left alone with
two young children to support.” Her mother played with her hair. “What I’m trying
to say is by exalting him, I began diminishing the value of myself. He was my
savior. My everything.”

Her
words sounded too familiar.

“I
know I haven’t set a sterling example, but I’ve only wanted what’s best for you
and Tony.” Her smile was wan. “You deserve more than what I’ve been able to
offer.”

Tess
hugged her mother. “You’ve done more than enough.”

“Being
an adult doesn’t come with a how-to manual. You’ve got to learn to make the
tough decisions and the necessary sacrifices. You have to do what’s best for
you.”

Tess
basked in her insight, the truth ringing so true it sang from her bones. “So
what now?”

“Now,
tell me which of those boys you’re in love with.”

A
tight burble of hysterical laughter locked in her chest. “I don’t know.”

Maia
squeezed her shoulder. “You’ll figure it our for yourself in time.”

“Maybe.”
Tess fell quiet for a moment. “So when are you going to kick me out?”

“It
was never about kicking you out. You’re nineteen years old, Tess. If something
isn’t working for you, then do your own thing. You’ve always been good at that.”

Her
head dropped against her mother’s shoulder. “Does this make us best friends?”

She
smiled. “Maybe acquaintances. Baby steps.”

“I
can live with that.”

__________________

 
 

Adonis
checked his phone for the thousandth time.

She
hadn’t returned his text. What the fuck had happened?
Was she
too busy opening presents
? Reconciling with Cameron? Screwing him?

Nauseated,
Adonis lit a cigarette and coughed when his sore throat rejected the harsh burn.

He
pulled slower and exhaled over the balcony.

Snow-capped
skyscrapers and ice-caked windows glared at him from every direction. The
streets below were just as busy as any other morning, providing the illusion of
an ordinary day.

For
Adonis, Christmas morning was just like all the other three
sixty
four
. Gifts from people he rarely heard from, access to a larger chunk
of his inheritance, and maybe a chain of islands courtesy of his simpering
father.
 

Lydia
had come over the night before bearing gifts, another container of soup, tomato
this time, sided with wedges of grilled cheese. For once, his half-sister
benched her burning curiosity and didn’t ask about what happened between him
and Tess the other night.

Not
that there was anything to tell.

During
her visit, Lydia seemed content to just chill in his company, partly on account
of his scorn for the supposed season of joy and mostly to bring urgent tidings
from his father since Adonis had blocked his number years ago. Apparently the
old man wanted to meet with him today at noon.

Scrolling
through his messages one last time, Adonis swallowed his meds and tossed back
another cap full of cough syrup. He might was well get this over with.

When
he arrived an hour and a half later, his father waited for him in his office.
Lionel Benoit stood by the yawning, wide-mouthed fireplace. Behind the ornamental,
black grate, the fire snacked hungrily on an oversized Yule log. 

“What
do you want?”

Lionel’s
eyebrows shot up. “Merry Christmas to you too. Why don’t you take a seat?”

“I’ll
stand thanks,” he said flatly.

“Is
it so wrong of me to want to spend time with my only son during Christmas?”

“Last
Christmas you were in Tahiti, the one before that Costa Rica, then Iceland. Any
of that ring a bell? So cut the bullshit and tell me why you made me come all
the way out here.”

The
light in Lionel’s powder blue eyes dimmed. “You really do think the worst of
me, don’t you?”

“You
haven’t really given me a reason to think otherwise.”

“Indeed.”
Lionel walked to a cherry finish table in the corner and lifted a Baccarat decanter
of brandy. “How’s school coming? I trust you’ve stayed out of trouble thus far.”

“Why
do you care?”

“Because
if hadn’t been for me, you would be rotting in jail right now for the little
stunt you pulled at Berkeley.”

He
ignored the sharp stab of guilt. “Are you looking for gratitude? Because we
both know you have my mother’s money to thank for that. Your family hasn’t been
able to make it out of the seven figure bracket in decades.”

“Adonis,
it isn’t about the money. You’re my son. I am genuinely concerned about you.” Lionel
raised the snifter to his lips as he studied him. “Sometimes I wonder if you
inherited any of my genes. You are Selene’s son through and through.”

 
Adonis clenched his teeth. “You say it
like it’s a bad thing.”

“It
just concerns me. Your mother did hail from a screwy lot,” he said, his voice brushed
with humor. His smile faded. “Actually that’s what I wanted to speak with you about.”

“If
you say one more thing about her,” he said, vibrating with anger. “I swear,
I’ll fucking gut you like the piece of shit you are.”

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