“Yes. God, you’re so tight. So good. Tell me how good it feels. Tell me how good it feels when I fuck you. When I make you come. When I make you mine. So beautiful. Fuck, Naomi, you are the breath in my lung and the beat of my heart.”
He moves faster, his cock thickening, pounding, his movements more erratic and I claw at him, crying out his name over and over and over until he collapses on top of me, stilling and swearing and kissing my neck as he gasps my name in return.
My arms wrap around him, holding him so close. I can’t let him go now. No matter what comes next.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Naomi
* * *
My eyes flash open, startled and jostled by a dream that’s lingering on the cusp of my consciousness. It was about Florian. Doing. Something…
I shake my head back and forth, unable to grasp at the tiny threads. Blowing out a silent breath, I roll over only to find my bed empty. The spot that had been occupied by Gus when we fell asleep is now vacant. Cold.
I frown, sitting up and taking the sheets with me. I glance toward the windows and balcony and find it’s still dark out. The clock on my nightstand confirms it’s just a little after three am. I sit here, still and silent, and listen.
Nothing.
No sound.
Drawing my knees up to my chest, I scrub my hand up and down my face, brushing my matted hair back and off it. Trying not to feel wrecked when it’s impossible to feel any other way.
He left. Jesus, I can’t believe he did that after all he said and all we did last night.
Climbing out of bed, I pee, avoiding my reflection in the mirror and then head downstairs in search of a glass of water. Rain still batters at the glass of the windows and patio doors, but the thunder and lightning seem to have stopped. I meander my way through the kitchen in the darkness, opening the cabinet, and taking out a glass before filling it with water from the fridge door.
I turn to face the front of the house, clutching the glass in my hand.
I want to call him, and I don’t.
I’m insanely angry right now—both with myself and him. And hurt. Damn, I’m so hurt right now it’s eating at me to the point where it feels like I’m going to crawl out of my skin.
I bring the glass to my lips just as a sound behind me startles me, causing me to jump and the glass to slip through my fingers. I fumble for it, water splashing and sloshing every which way, but it’s futile. The glass goes crashing to the floor, shards of glass spraying across the hardwood and over my bare feet.
A sharp pain in my right foot and the burst of cold water on my skin causes me to scream just as the lights in the kitchen switch on, momentarily blinding me. Before I can make sense of anything, I’m suddenly lifted off my feet and dropped bottom first onto the counter.
“Jesus, Naomi. Are you okay? What the hell were you doing?”
“Me,” I shriek, blinking rapidly as I try to acclimate to the light. “What the hell were you doing? You scared the shit out of me.” I reach out and smack Gus’ bare chest. “I thought you left.” I push him away, staring down at the floor.
There’s glass and water everywhere.
Gus takes my foot in his hand and my breath catches at the flash of pain, the shard of glass sticking out, and the trickle of blood beside it. I groan, my stomach swaying.
“Don’t move. I’m going to clean this up real quick and then take care of your foot.”
He spins me around, grabs a few paper towels, and sets my injured foot on top of them.
“Don’t touch that piece of glass. I need to clean your foot, but the floor is dangerous as hell.”
I stare up into his concerned gray gaze, suddenly overwhelmed. “I thought you left,” I state again, my voice low and a little weak, and I hate that. I hate the power he already has over me. The constant fear I have of being left by people I love. I don’t know how to change that or stop it, and now I’m pushing that onto him.
I assumed the worst of him, and I let it get to me.
And now look.
I’m sitting on my counter with nothing but a tiny camisole, panties, and a bleeding foot.
“Hey,” he says, his voice soft. His hands cup my cheeks, his eyes all over my face. “I wasn’t going anywhere. I woke up and couldn’t sleep. That’s all. I came down to your music room because I think better with a guitar in my hands, and I was afraid of waking you with my playing, so I closed the door.”
And because my music room is soundproof, I didn’t hear him at all.
I swallow hard, nodding miserably.
“I’m not going anywhere. Please trust in that.” I hate that he just read that part of me so well. He leans in and kisses my lips, sweet and tender, yes, but also firm and commanding. Like he’s wordlessly trying to drive his point home.
He pulls back and gets started on cleaning up the mess I made while I sit here watching.
I have no words.
I’m too lost in my head.
This is why I haven’t dated in two years. Why I’ve kept to myself and avoided anything that could potentially hurt me. And all the times I thought I was doing okay, getting by, in control, and strong, now feel like they’re crumbling around me.
Simply because I woke up after one of the best nights of my life alone. But you weren’t alone. He didn’t leave.
I don’t know how to go through this again.
Gus tosses the last of the glass in the trash and wipes up the last drop of water and asks me where my first-aid kit is. I point him in that direction and suddenly he’s beside me, tending to my foot. He warns me before he removes the glass from my foot, cringing for me when I don’t so much as register it. He cleans my blood with antiseptic solution and applies a band-aid and I…
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I thought I was…” I trail off, unsure what to say.
“I think I’m falling for you,” he whispers into me, his tone serious, his words brutal yet tender. “I knew I was crazy about you. I knew I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I knew I wanted you in a way I’ve never wanted anyone else. But then last night happened. And it was everything. And when I woke up with you sleeping in my arms, my heart started to pound, and I just needed to play for a bit. I need to sort through it all, you know.”
His arms wrap around me, drawing my face into his warm, strong body. His scent envelops me and my chest clenches with the strongest sensation of home I’ve ever experienced. He rocks me back and forth, kissing the top of my head, and now my heart is starting to pound.
“I’m so sorry you thought I left. I’m so sorry I did that to you. That I scared you and you got hurt and once again, I do all the wrong things with you.”
“That’s not you, Gus. That’s me. You do everything right. I’m the one who’s a mess. I thought I had gotten past all that stuff, but the moment I thought you had left, I began to spiral. It’s not healthy, and it’s time I do something about it. Really face what I’ve been so willing to avoid. There’s more I haven’t told you.” I pull back, dropping my chin onto his sternum, my face tilted back. He brushes some hair off of my forehead as he stares down at me. Patiently waiting. “I was pregnant that night at the Grammys.”