I swallowed the pain lodged at the base of my throat and tried to reach for some kind of rational thought when this boy always managed to strip it away.
“You don’t really have the right to care about that anymore.” It was scarcely a whisper.
He stared across at me. Challenging. “You promised me two months.”
“Yeah, you promised them too…and you couldn’t even give me that.”
“Blue—”
I winced. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why?” He took a step forward, eclipsing me in his shadow, the man towering over me. “Why, Blue,” he demanded. “You think I don’t see you? That I don’t get what you were trying to pull tonight?”
My hands fisted at my sides. “Tell me what you want…tell me…because I don’t think I can take this anymore.”
I couldn’t stand there and not crumble at his feet.
He hesitated. As if he were trying to hold himself back while everything left unfinished between us built, strengthened, and inflamed. I saw it the second he finally caved.
His hand flew out in frustration, as if he wanted to punch something, and he ducked his head, shocking me by how quickly he got up in my face as the words poured from his mouth like a pissed-off plea.
“I fucking missed you, okay? I fucking missed you and it fucking killed me thinking of you bringing that kid back here. Killed me thinking of you reaching for another man. Killed me to think of that bastard’s hands on you, taking what’s mine. I was supposed to have two months. Two months.”
“And now it’s too late.” The words shook as they slipped from my tongue.
As if he’d been struck, his face jerked to the side. His attention seemed gripped by the night and the unsettled trees and the passing time. Finally he turned back to me, his black hair whipping in the wind, that energy inciting a storm. “We have tonight.”
God, I wanted it. To give up and give in.
“What if it hurts when you leave?” I whispered.
Some kind of old sorrow lashed through his expression, and he stepped forward, so gentle as he cradled my face in his hands. The words were so much softer than the first time he’d uttered them to me. “Baby…don’t you get it yet? I’m not worth the pain.”
I touched his cheek, my fingers fluttering across his lips. They parted with a breath.
I wished he knew how much he was. That I saw so much more.
“Blue,” he whispered again.
Soft, gentle seduction.
Cruel.
Manipulation.
“I hate you,” I attempted, but tears were already gathering in my eyes.
Exposing. Revealing. Unveiling.
One fell, streaking down my cheek. A single droplet of hazard and hope.
His exhale sounded in relief, and he slowly gathered me in the security of his arms. He pressed my cheek against his heart that ran wild. The man was a bundle of mayhem, pushing and pulling and confounding. Yet in his arms, everything became so clear.
“There she is. Blue. My beautiful, brave Blue. I thought I’d lost her.” Fingers played through my hair, moving back to my face where he forced me to look at him.
I blinked and more tears fell. The moisture slipped into the webs of his fingers. He squeezed my face, his shoulders bunching and his body swaying in indecision. His gaze flicked between my eyes and my mouth. His tongue swept across that delicious bottom lip, before any timidity vanished.
His mouth came down with the force of a landslide. His tongue drove between my lips, meeting with the resistance in mine. It quickly morphed into surrender.
Because I was already gone.
Lost to this man. To his darkness and his ghosts and his hard, unattainable heart.
I was a fool.
A fool.
A fool.
A fool.
Giving in was only going to hurt me that much more.
But right then, I didn’t care.
Because the world was spinning and there was nothing in it that felt better than him. Nothing better than the softness of his lips and the desire on his tongue, his hot hands on my body as his begged against mine.
I clutched his shoulders and pushed up onto my toes.
Dying for more.
That’s exactly what it felt like.
As if I would die if I didn’t get this one last night.
One last taste.
One last memory.
Because the scars were still there—the old wounds still raw and aching—and confusion still reigned in my heart and mind. My spirit was more unsure of my future now than it’d ever been. But tonight, only this moment mattered.
“I wasn’t finished,” he growled low. Teeth grazed at my chin, before his kiss took a needy path down my neck. Lyrik sucked at my pulse point. It made me gasp and writhe and moan.
“Two months,” he mumbled. “I was supposed to have two months. Two months to erase. Two months to leave my mark. Two months to make you know nothing else but my name.”
I shuddered beneath his murmurings. This man had no idea how deeply he had. The eternal impressions he had made and the magnitude of the hole he would leave behind.
“Tell me no, Blue. Tell me no,” he begged as he forced me closer, the desperation in his perfect body in direct contrast to his words. His kiss devoured my mouth, just as this man demolished my senses and devastated the last shred of my willpower.
Lyrik West owned me.