She glides one hand along my neck and into my hair, fisting gently as her body undulates above me.
I open my eyes abruptly and break the kiss. “What are you doing?”
“I’m remembering you, Tristan,” she rasps against my lips.
I swear every solitary sound that comes from the woman decimates my better judgment. Even as my brain screams at me to stop this madness, I answer with a fevered kiss. Because I can’t resist the way she says my name, like a siren song luring me closer to her, deeper into the sensations.
My fists ball and release a few more times before I can’t fight it anymore. My fingertips meet her ankles and trail up her calves. She lifts the bottom of my T-shirt and slides her other hand up my bare chest, triggering everything else. My blood. My cock. Even my pendulum heart, racing like a fucking fool.
I close my eyes again, and suddenly we’re in a dark room. Cold, save the scorching press of our bodies. She’s naked, covered in shadows. Her fingernails dig into my flesh as I rock into her.
“Touch me. Tristan…please.”
I can’t tell if it is really her or the echo of a memory. I open my eyes and flood the vision with the golden glow of Isabel in the candlelight. Pure carnal lust drives me as I palm her knees apart, forcing her wider over me. She whimpers, and that single sound punches through the wall between reality and my hazy past. I make the final journey up her thighs, cup her ass, and haul her hard against me.
She gasps and grinds down on me, eliciting a groan that tears from my chest and rumbles inside our next kiss. It’s rough and desperate. It’s a flood of her perfect taste. I tease my thumbs along the edges of her panties. My head buzzes with the promise of tasting more of her… All of her. Every inch.
She’s moaning my name. Clawing my bare skin and nipping at my lips like a kitten demanding affection. I’m ready to give her all I have when I hear a sound that isn’t Isabel’s.
Karina’s figure hovers in the doorway. “Oh. I— I’m so sorry.”
She disappears as quickly as she appeared, but I’m frozen, jarred by Isabel’s ability to distract me so completely. Her lips are parted and swollen from my rough kisses. Her touch is no less divine, no less addictive. And deep down I know we’re reliving a memory so potent I’ll never be the same if I get inside her.
Against every base instinct, I draw my hands away.
“We can’t do this.” My voice is tight with lingering desire.
I will my palms to relish the worn leather over her silken skin. I can’t feed this fantasy. I can’t get this close to her.
I don’t know how or when, but I feel like I’ve endured torture less painful than the act of pulling away from her. Gradually, I unwind, withdraw, let go…
Pushing her aside, I rise to my feet, not feeling entirely in control of myself. I’m out of breath and my body is fucking rioting. Nothing has ever felt so dangerous. I pace away and shove my hands through my hair.
“Tristan…”
Turning back, I see her flushed, perched on the edge of the couch, her dress bunched up around her thighs. An intoxicating mix of lust and anguish play on her features. Both turn me on in equal measure.
“We can’t,” I say firmly.
“You feel it too. I know you do.”
I clench my jaw, refusing to show her how true her words are. If she knew what a single touch did to me, she’d never stop pushing for more. She’d push until I break, and I’m ready to fucking snap. This has to end. Here and now.
“You have no idea what I feel. I’m nothing more than a stranger. Do you fuck strangers, Isabel?”
She flinches like I’ve struck her.
“You’re not a stranger. I know you…”
I take a couple steps toward her. She stiffens but doesn’t recoil the way she should. She should fear me more, but I’m not sure our history will ever allow it. I stare down at her, ignoring the way my fingertips heat and prickle to touch her again.
“The Tristan you knew died years ago. He was shot full of bullets, brought back to life, and never thought about you again. I never stayed up late at night wondering what you were doing or if you were hurting. I didn’t get off to thoughts of us. You were nonexistent to me. Nothing.” I draw in a steeling breath that burns my lungs. “And that’s never going to change.”
Her cheeks bloom a deeper shade of poppy red. Her jaw falls open slightly and shuts again. Silently I beg her to believe me.
ISABEL
The muffled sound of Tristan’s voice wakes me out of a restless sleep. I blink a few times. He’s somewhere else in the house, probably talking to Mateus. I’m relieved and instantly heartbroken.
I went to bed alone last night, reeling from his confession. Every word cut into me like a blade. The emptiness in his eyes offered no remorse.
I mean nothing to him, and I never will. I’m the key to a locked door. A means to an end. Nothing more. All I can do is leave, lick my wounds, and wish I’d never left Rio with him. The anguish of it all has me wide awake again, despite the latent fatigue.
Morning has brightened the sky beyond my barred window. My heart sinks knowing I have to face this day. Tristan’s rejection is fresh, lingering in my psyche the way his touch lingers on my skin. I kick away the sheets with a frustrated sigh, embarrassed for coming on to him in the first place. What the hell was I thinking…
I wasn’t thinking. I was only feeling, reaching for magic we once had. For those few intoxicating moments, wrapped in each other, I believed we were the old us. And I was flying without a parachute, high on the way he responded to my touch, the sounds vibrating through our bodies, the familiarity of it all.
I groan and roll into my pillow. Doesn’t matter if he still kissed me like he wanted to swallow me whole or touched me like he might tear me apart with the passion he felt. In the end, none of it mattered.
It never will.
I rise slowly and change into clean clothes. I look down at my bag, messy from living out of it for the past couple of days. Maybe today will be the day Tristan lets me leave. How many more memories will he pull from me before it’s enough? How much deeper can he push the blade?
In the back of my mind, I think of Kolt. I miss his friendship and the way he always made me feel safe when he was near, even if I could never give him my heart. I took what I wanted and rejected the rest. I let him chase me and feel more for me than I could ever return. Worse, I disappeared without a trace…
A draining kind of discontent burdens my steps as I go down the hall toward the voices.
“We should consider leaving.”
Mateus’s words slow my approach outside the kitchen.
“We? You mean me?”
“No. All of us. I have a bad feeling.”
“Why now? Have you heard something?” There’s an edge to Tristan’s voice that wasn’t there before.
“You know I have eyes and ears everywhere. No signs of trouble, but—”
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Mateus laughs nervously. “No one is ever safe, Tristan. You know that. They’ll be here before we know there’s trouble. I have a place a few hours south of here. We can stay there until we know more.”
I hear someone shuffling around. I hold my breath and stay still. Silence. Then the sound of a coffee pot sliding out of its cradle and back again.
“You can’t keep a roof over our heads forever,” Tristan says.
“You need time with her.”
Tristan is quiet for a moment. “I think I have all I need now.”
Mateus makes an exasperated sound. “Already?”
“I can figure out the rest on my own.”
“And what about Isabel?”
When Tristan falls silent again, my skin chills.
“Don’t be stupid, Tristan,” Mateus snaps.
“Don’t be stupid? I’ll probably be dead in a month. The people who want her gone won’t give up. Not if we leave here. Not if we find a hundred other places to hide out. They’ll want me a thousand times more than they want her for everything I know.”
“And you know their tricks. You can outmaneuver them. You can keep her safe.”