My answer didn’t matter. Sure, she wanted to know, but what she’d really asked was whether it was normal for her to miss her dad today.
“You can see Gideon.” I blocked the doors when they slid open. “You know where he is.”
Gideon had deluded himself into believing she’d cave and visit.
She wouldn’t.
It takes strength to want something and deny yourself the craving. And Emery Winthrop possessed a strength so great it broke her and pieced her together. Again and again. A diamond, toughening under pressure.
Something drastic would have to happen to bring her to his doorstep. I held that power—that lie.
Sisyphus, I reminded myself.
A liar and a cheat.
I’d come full-fucking-circle, and I wanted off the damn carousel. It reeked of piss and bad decisions.
“I can’t.” Her palms met my chest and shoved.
I didn’t fight it, listening to her footsteps echo.
The hotel resembled a scene from The Walking Dead. Moments before the zombies come, when everything is still empty. A rarity, given the quick pace of our construction.
The design crew had escaped for the weekend. Rain gushed down in heavy onslaughts, so none of the construction crew remained.
And of course, of fucking course, Emery swung the beach-front exit open with little concern for the tempest and walked straight into the storm. Wind whipped her hair. Her shirt drenched in an instant.
She peered up at the sky, undeterred by the liquid splattering her face. In this moment, I couldn’t see a single difference between her and the storm.
I tried and failed to get a read on her. She muttered a few words, my very own siren. About a minute later, two clouds parted, revealing the starless sky. Almost enough to make me believe in her magic. Not magic words, but her magic.
“I knew you’d show up for my birthday,” she whispered, talking to the sky as if it was her oldest friend. “This storm’s not bad, but you can do better.”
What did it say about me that watching her talk to the sky got my dick hard?
What did it say that, despite the frigid temperature, it stayed as hard as the forecasted hail?
Emery peeled off her jeans and dove into the pool. When she resurfaced, she swam to its brink. Beneath her shirt, two hard nipples greeted me. My jaw ticked.
Off-limits. Off-limits. Off-fucking-limits.
If she expected me to cave, she wasn’t getting it. But I could imagine it, and I did. In my bed, in my shower, in my office. A fucking teenager, jerking off because he couldn’t get the girl. Except I had her, close enough to touch her, and I chose to preserve the lie over her. For her.
Fuck you, Gideon. Putting me in this position is Grade-A revenge. Now, I know where your daughter gets her fixation for silent revenge from.
Emery quirked a brow. “Are you coming in, or what?”
Loosening my tie, I discarded it with my suit jacket on the deck. I yanked my shirt off, popping every button. Her lips separated at the sight of my scars. It occurred to me that she hadn’t seen me fully naked in almost five years, so I removed my boxer briefs, too.
I locked my jaw, Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement of her eyes. She took her time sweeping the length of me. My dick saluted her for every second of it.
Rainwater blurred my vision. I dove into the warmed water and emerged in front of Emery. Her ankle trailed my legs. It traced something indecipherable and stopped at my abs. She used them to push off into a backstroke.
The pool extended into the ocean with a negative edge. If I looked hard enough, I could see where the pool ended and the ocean began. In the rain, all I saw was Emery, arms spread, kicking lazy circles with the backdrop of crashing ocean waves.
So fucking wild, I had no idea how Virginia ever intended on taming her.
She startled when I swam beside her. My fingertips teased the edge of her tee. Her arm wrapped around my neck and clung to me.
“Tiger?”
“Yes?”
“What do you want for your birthday?”
“You.”
No hesitation.
Just pure need.
I was definitely going to hell, because looking at her in the rain, determination painted on her face, I couldn’t say no.
She skated her lips along my neck, not kissing me. Just feeling me. Breathing me. Consuming me. I dragged her shirt up her body, devouring her nipples.
My fingers gripped her hair.
I brought my lips to the curve of her ear and licked the skin. “What are you asking from me?”
What’s eating you, Emery Winthrop?
“Break me.” She stared at me like she wasn’t completely whole and didn’t entirely care. “Then put me back together, mismatched, scarred, and chaotic as this storm.”
My mouth slammed on those soft lips, body stapling her to the rim of the pool. Behind her, the waves drowned her moans. I tore her panties off. They fell to the porcelain tiles.
Her body quivered, bare and pressed against mine.
“Beautiful,” I said, knowing she wouldn’t understand the compliment.
“I know.” She threw her head back and stared at the moon. “I love starless skies.”
“I'm not talking about the fucking sky. I'm talking about you.”
If she heard me, she didn’t show it. Simply granted me access to her neck, attention above us. My teeth grazed her skin, tongue lapping at the goosebumps.
“Give me a word, Emery.”
“Redamancy.”
“What does it mean?”
“The act of loving the one who loves you. A love returned in full.” She drew her bottom lip between her front teeth and turned away.
I know what you are, and it’s not the storm or the clouds.
I lifted her, locked her legs around my waist, and positioned myself at her core. “I’m going to fuck the last asshole out of your system. And I’ll ruin every other asshole for you. Nothing will compare.”
Her nails dented my shoulders, and she laughed. Goddamn laughed. “You. You are the last asshole inside me.”
Fuck.
“Good.”
I sunk into her, fucking mind-blown over how different she felt.
Her pussy hugged my cock, quaking around me with each thrust.
I fucked her like it was the last time I’d ever do it.
And it probably was.
The second she discovered the lie, she'd never forgive me. If this was the last time, I’d make it feel like forever. I didn't want the before or even the after. I wanted the during, the part of us I chased each second.
I thrust again, faster this time.
She begged me for more, her fingers leaving grooves in my skin. The heat of the pool warmed us, but the storm above cascaded in unforgivable tides. It was messy, and savage, and too fucking good.
Thrust.
“Nash.” The rain drowned her cries, but I heard how much she needed me, felt it as her walls shook around me. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.”
Something built in my throat when she licked my scar and ran her fingertips along the others.
I thrust harder, creating our own waves to battle the ocean’s.
She moaned into my ear, but the storm above us and between us swallowed the symphony. I should have slowed down, savored this, created a memory of it, but my body had different ideas. It hunted an elusive feeling I couldn't name.
Thrust.
I barely made out her words, “Do I feel as perfect as you feel?”