I walk over to her, sitting beside her and putting my arm around her shoulder, drawing her head to my chest. “Can I do something?”
“No. He’s my mess and for now, I plan on ignoring him. He’s taken enough from me. I don’t want to talk to him, and I have nothing left to say. And the absolute last thing I want is for you and the guys to get tangled up with him.”
I kiss the top of her head. “I’m here for you. For whatever you need.”
“What I need is some coffee, breakfast, and a shower. Not necessarily in that order.”
My fingers glide along the smooth skin of her back, silk, satin, sin, and heaven all wrapped up into one. “Come shower with me. Then I’ll feed you and give you caffeine.”
Her hand meets my arm, her dark eyes glittering up at me against the shining sun. It never ceases to amaze me how the slightest touch from her leaves me breathless. I get the feeling it’s been her entire life since she’s felt any semblance of hope. Is it too much to ask that that’s something I can give her?
I love that you love me, Maia.
“I can’t say no to any of those things. Then you’re going to whisk me off to yet another city I’ve never been to before on your private jet. I feel like I’m in some Hallmark movie or a fantastically smutty romance novel. I can’t decide which one I prefer.”
“If we’re polling opinions, I’m going with option B. I don’t think Hallmark is known for kinking it up too often.”
She rolls her eyes at me, standing up and walking completely naked into the bathroom. Too bad we’re once again on a time constraint. I wasn’t lying when I said I want too many hours with her naked. No, my biggest problem isn’t all the things I want to do with her. Or to her.
My biggest problem is trying to fight through a past that still haunts me.
One that still sits on my soul, coating it in darkness. Still clings to me like an extra layer of skin I can’t shed.
In ten years, there have been very few nights where I don’t close my eyes and picture Amy dead in my arms or alive with her last smile for me.
I’m scared of loving Maia the way I want to. I’m scared of the things I come with, the sick poison that lives in my head and heart. She deserves better than that. And right now, she deserves better than me.
So I’m trying. For the first fucking time, I’m trying. For her. For me. For us.
All I can hope is that she doesn’t give up on me too soon. Is hope she believes me when I tell her I’m trying. I just need a little more time, Maia. I can do this. I know I can.
27
Maia
* * *
“What would you be doing right now if I wasn’t dragging you all around?”
“Probably sleeping. You know, because I can’t remember the last time I got more than four consecutive hours of that,” Keith deadpans, and I smirk coyly at him.
“That’s because you keep pressing your dick into me, Keith. What’s a girl to do? Ignore it?”
He laughs, picking up a chicken wing and practically inhaling the whole thing in one bite. Such a caveman. “Did you have any boyfriends growing up?” he asks, and even though I should be surprised by his asking me this, I’m not. He’s been asking non-stop questions since we left Seattle and that was almost a week ago now. I can’t imagine he has anything left to ask me, but clearly I’m wrong.
I shake my head. “Not really. I dated a guy in college for a couple of weeks. He was cute, a football player. A senior to my freshman.”
“And where is he now?”
I can’t stop my grin at the jealous gleam in his eyes and the sharp lock of his jaw. “New Orleans. Playing for your team as your QB.”
Keith’s eyes bug out of his head. “You’re telling me your first official boyfriend was Jake Nethers?” That locked jaw pops open when I nod, trying and fighting to hide my shit-eating smile behind a chicken wing. “And you didn’t fuck him?”
I roll my eyes. “I think you already know I didn’t. That’s why we didn’t last all that long. He tried the first night we met and when he found out I was a virgin, he tried even harder in the following weeks. I was only too aware that was all he wanted with me, and I just… I don’t know. I didn’t want him to have it. He screwed every girl on campus.”
“It makes me want to intercept the football, score a pick-six, and spike it in the endzone right in his face.”
“That’s very mature of you.”
“I know. You’re very lucky to be with someone like me. You should feel really good about yourself for not giving him your beautiful V-card. Can you imagine the lack of orgasms you would have had? It’s a good thing you held onto it and let me have it. I shudder for you just contemplating the alternative.”
“Very gracious of you.”
“You have sauce all over your face.” He reaches across the table in the flash of an eye and licks all over my cheeks and lips. I swat at him, pushing him off and wiping my face with a napkin. “Life Rule #286: Once a man licks something, it’s his. That means no one else can ever kiss your face again.”
“You already licked me in that bathroom at the mansion to claim me. You seriously didn’t have to do it again. And you do know that’s not a life rule, right?”
“Oh, I remember licking you in that bathroom,” he chides with an impish smirk that makes me blush instantly. “I’m just re-staking my claim. You know, in case anyone isn’t already aware you’re mine. It was just you and me that first time in the bathroom, so no one else saw me lick you.”
“You’re cute when you’re jealous, so I’ll let it slide. For now. But stop licking my face and claiming it as yours. It’s gross.”
“Sweet darlin’, let this be known now. I am possessive. I am jealous. I am determined. And because I am crazy about you, all of those things are magnified by a thousand. Let it slide. Get used to it. However you need to manage it, it’s there, and it’s the truth. I never want another man to touch you now that I have. And that will never change.”
My heart pounds faster than a hummingbird’s wings.
It’s when he says things like this that I do my best to push everything else that is hanging over our heads away.
I cling to his words. To his looks. To his freaking caveman antics. They’re my life’s blood. My stupid, girlish lifelines. And I hate them as much as I hate how desperate I am for more of them.
The worst part? I get off on it. I thrive on his reactions. On his crazy, nonsensical jealousy and the way he worships me not just with his words but with his eyes and body. It makes my panties wet when he marks me because I’m his and he needs to keep me that way.
He makes me feel fucking wanted and no one has ever done that and meant it on a real level before.
Never.
I almost wish he weren’t this guy. This rich, rock star who has been on more than one ‘Most Eligible Bachelor’ list. Our playing field is so far from even. He could find a million other women who will fall at his feet and not snark back.
But he’ll never find another you.
I smile at that. It’s true. And it’s me who he wants.