Twisted Love (Blinded Love Series Book 3) Read online

“Snow White.” My smile wobbled, still trying to carry the weight of her belief in my character. “Advice: the prince is boring. Get drunk and have crazy sex with the seven guys instead. They’re the perfect height to—”

  “Ste-vie.” She shook her head, but a chuckle leaked from her mouth. It died away quickly, her lashes batting as she stared off to the side, fear and grief bobbing her throat.

  “Della’s gonna make sure no one is nice to you in her circle.” I swallowed. Della was one of those women who never really left high school, still trying to maintain her popularity.

  “I think it’s time I find friends I actually like.”

  “What about the job? I know you really wanted it.”

  “I wanted the money. The job actually sounded boring as hell.”

  My eyes widened. I hadn’t heard my mom talk like this in a while. I loved it.

  “Do you think that music store is still hiring?” She tilted her head, a soft smile on her mouth. “Working with music again sounds like my dream job.”

  “I’ll check.” I would pretty much do anything for her to return to things she used to enjoy.

  She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, Stevie. I have not been a very good mother or person since losing your father.”

  “Me neither, Mom.” I clutched her harder, feeling as if I were a little girl again. Did I have my mother back?

  “I’m afraid,” she whispered.

  I shared this problem. Fear had jailed us, in different ways, for so long we didn’t even see the bars anymore. But a cage was still a cage.

  I let out a heavy sigh, squeezing my lids together, feeling moisture pool between them.

  “Me too, Mom.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Crash. Thump.

  From a sound sleep, my body jolted up, terror sparking through my veins, pumping my heart full of adrenaline. My brain felt jumbled, but my mouth was parted in a scream. Fear locked my muscles into place.

  Dark shadows lumbered heavily through the room. Dim streetlight shining through the open window defined the objects in my room.

  A moving shape.

  A groan huffed from below the window burning dread through my vocals, my limbs twitching with warning.

  Danger. Run.

  “When the fuck did you put a chair there?” a deep voice grunted, shoving the antique collector’s item my mom had purchased on one of her shopping trips.

  “Tarzan?” I squinted, barely making out his large silhouette as he stood up, rubbing his knee. My heart still whacked against my ribs. “What the fuck?”

  “Is it me or was this easier two years ago?” He stepped closer, scrubbing at his forearm. In the stream of light, I saw he had scraped it pretty good.

  I put my finger to my lips, telling him to lower his voice, and I slipped out of my bed. I tiptoed to the door and opened it, listening for any sounds that indicated Ape-boy had awakened my mother as well.

  Silence echoed back. She was a deep sleeper, but when it came to boys or girls sneaking into my room, I wouldn’t be surprised she had a tripwire set to wake her up.

  Softly I shut the door, whirling back on Chris. I marched up to his huge frame, smacking his arm hard.

  “Hey.” He rubbed at where I hit him, smirking.

  “What the fuck, Ape-boy? You want to give me a heart attack?”

  “As an older woman, it’s probably something you need to start thinking about.” He shrugged.

  “By a year.” I smacked him again.

  His gaze ran up my boy shorts and torn sleeveless band shirt. “Cougar.”

  “Asshole.”

  A smile hooked the side of his face, his brown eyes glinting in the street light. It was as though we had stepped right back in time. Nothing had changed.

  We stood so close I could feel the heat from his body pulsing off him. His mouth was only a few inches away. It would be so easy. My body screamed yes, craving it as if he’d trained me.

  Our breaths hitched and like magnets we drew closer together. His head dipped lower, his gaze hungry and searching mine, moving like fingers over every inch of my skin.

  “Why are you here?” I whispered, then sucked in a breath as his hand ran over my hip, his finger curling under my shirt, digging into my skin.

  “Not to talk.” He tilted his head, taking a step closer, pulling me to him, every nerve igniting at the feel of him pressed against me.

  Desperate need quaked through my muscles, as my hands gripped into his biceps. “Tarzan…”

  “Please. No talking.” His mouth brushed my neck, and I slammed my eyes shut, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. He nipped my flesh, his tongue sliding down my throat.

  I wanted him so badly it hurt.

  There was no way I could be quiet. Before it had been almost a game, striving to see how far we could bend the other before we broke and woke up the entire neighborhood, not just my mother.

  It had been way too long. This dancing around each other since I returned had only increased our neediness.

  “We can’t.” I tried to lean back, but my body went against me, telling me basically hell no, we need this, girl.

  “We did it a dozen times before, and she never woke up,” he muttered, grazing my other ear, sending shivers down my back, his hand sliding up my sides, under my shirt. His thumbs brushed over my bare breasts.

  A moan escaped my throat, coming out much louder than I intended. What was it about him that made me lose my mind? The countless times I had sex seemed to amount to nothing when he got near me. He knew how to turn the burner from simmering to boiling with one touch, searing my insides and making me forget everything and everyone outside us.

  “Shhh.” His finger slid under my jaw, cupping my face, his mouth skating over mine. “Don’t want to be chased out of here by a parent with my shorts around my ankles like I’m some teenager.”

  “Don’t worry, my mom won’t chase you; she hates exercise as much as I do.” I skimmed my tongue gently over his bottom lip. “She’ll simply shoot you.”

  He didn’t need to know my mom was completely antigun.

  “Not the first time.” He snorted with a grin.

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “And why wouldn’t I be shocked if you had been shot at by an angry father as well?”

  I shrugged, a cheeky smile curving my mouth. “Twice.”

  His mouth crashed down on mine, his hands gripping the back the back of my head and yanking it back so I could only open more to him, deepening our kiss, igniting us both with brutal passion where nothing felt close enough. With bruising force our mouths consumed each other. My hands crazed to touch every inch of him. I had gotten a small taste the night before, a tease. Now I wanted more.

  Normally foreplay was my thing, I could take hours “playing” with someone, but whatever force ran through Chris and me seemed to move this until way later in the evening when need didn’t claim us like fanatics.

  Breaking away, I ripped off his shirt, and shoved him back on my bed. He fell back, desire striking like lightning across his face, stirring the fire in my belly. Reaching for his shorts, I yanked them down with his briefs, going down on my knees, forcing a groan from his mouth as I kissed his thigh, moving up, taking him.

  “Fuck,” he hissed.

  I liked being dominant, the one in charge, controlling the situation. In my everyday life I was selfish, but in the bedroom, I was the exact opposite.

  “Stevie.” Chris sat up, his fingers digging into my head. He could not fight against me. I knew exactly how to make someone lose control. It gave me a high. Power.

  “Shit.” His voice sounded hoarse, his hips pumping against my mouth. “Jesus, I forgot how good this felt with you.”

  His words only encouraged me. I felt his thighs shaking, swear words ripping from his mouth, getting louder and louder.

  I pulled away for a moment to tell him to shut up, when his hand curled under my arms, tossing me up onto the bed, his
naked form moving between my legs. I took in his rugged, beautiful face, his lean, toned physique…and the beast he knew how to use better than any guy I had ever been with.

  “I wasn’t finished.” I licked my lips.

  “Too bad. Take off your shirt,” he demanded. A trickle of fear fused with the desire consuming me at his order. “Now.”

  Breathing in, I pinched my tank between my fingers, slowly dragging it up my body and over my head, his gaze burning into my bare chest until I felt dizzy with desire.

  “You are so fucking gorgeous.” His hand glided between my breasts and down to my underwear, which he tugged down my legs and then dropped to his knees. “It’s my turn now.”

  Panic sputtered my heart, and I pushed up on my elbows. “Chris…”

  He gripped my legs and tugged my ass to the edge of them bed, parting me.

  “Fuck,” he growled. “I’ve been dreaming about this for so long. To taste you.”

  Sparks charged up my spine, desire heaving my chest, but the back of my neck prickled with cold.

  “I want you.” I grabbed for his arm, trying to pull him up, my voice low. “Now.”

  “Believe me, we’ll get to that too.” His palm flattened on my stomach, pushing my torso flat, traveling down until his fingers brushed me. “I want you coming on my tongue first.”

  Oral was something I gave, not received. The few times someone pushed it, I stopped it halfway, demanding sex instead. It was easy to distract, to put it back on them. People I had in one-night stands rarely thought about anything but their own pleasure.

  I inched away from him, a salacious smile on my lips. “I’d rather you fuck me until my mother is calling the police.”

  Chris’s lids narrowed, his head tilting.

  “Come on, Tarzan.” My toe nudged his shoulder, but he didn’t rise to my bait. Butterflies nervously clipped at the sides of my stomach, watching awareness seep in. “You up for the challenge?”

  “Wow…” he muttered. “How did I not notice this before?”

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to talk.”

  His head went back, his expression shifting as if a lightbulb went off in his head. “Every time…” He shook his head, staring at me with bewilderment.

  “If we’re not going to have sex, you can go.” I tried to get up, but his hands gripped my thighs firmer, keeping me in place.

  “Why do you avoid it?”

  “I’m not avoiding anything. I’m trying to have sex; you’re the one hindering it.” My voice rose, and I dampened it, looking at the door.

  “Don’t treat me like I’m stupid. I know you, Stevie, better than you’d like.” He frowned when I tried to scoot away from him. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice it when we were together, but now I’m recalling each time you stopped me, saying you were too desperate to wait anymore.”

  “So?” I shrugged. “I enjoy sex.”

  “No…it’s not just that.” His gaze burrowed into me, digging at the locked box in my soul. Chris was supposed to be a fling. A cute, not too bright guy with a hot accent. Not this person whose gaze tore at my walls, sank into my very being. “It scares you. Not being in control.”

  “Oh please, Ape-boy, let’s stop with the whole psychotherapist act. Neither of us is deeper than a koi pond.” I got up from the bed, trying to move around him.

  “Stop.” He clutched my wrists, sitting me down on the bed again. “And stop acting like we were…are…nothing. Fuck, Stevie, I’ve told you more about my past than I’ve told my best friends.”

  I glanced away from him. I felt the truth of his declaration. I had also told him more than anyone else in the world. Even Jayme.

  No. We’re just supposed to be a casual fuck. That’s it.

  “Are you afraid of not being the one in control?” he asked softly, seeing deeper into me than I wanted. The intrusion stewed fury in my bones.

  “I’m not scared!” I snapped, my lip going up.

  “Okay. Fine. Not scared…untrusting.” His chest pressed into my knees, his grip on my wrists keeping me from running, which every fiber of my being wanted to do. To get away from this conversation.

  He looked down, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “What happened—”

  “No,” I whispered. Please don’t ask. Don’t taint this room. Being with you. The sentiment sat on my chest, but never made it out.

  Nodding, he seemed to hear all the things I left unsaid.

  “Do you trust me?” He finally spoke, his voice raw.

  Trust. That was such a complex word. Did I trust my life in his hands when he took me out on his bike? Absolutely. Did I trust him physically with my body? No question. That boy seemed to know every switch on me. With my heart? The darkness and fear caking my soul? No. I thought at the same time I heard a voice whisper from deep inside. Yes. My head bowed, not able to look at him.

  “Stevie?”

  “Yes,” I muttered.

  His hands cupped my face, kissing my cheek. “I promise. You say stop, I stop. But know I will never purposely hurt you.”

  My throat thickened with emotion.

  “Okay?”

  I only nodded.

  Gently, he laid me back, moving slow. The air still pulsed heavy with desire, but my heart pounded with nervous energy.

  Vulnerability.

  Weakness.

  For all my bragging about the conquests in my life, I suddenly felt stupid and ashamed. A little girl wearing her mother’s heels, and no one had ever noticed before. Had seen through me.

  Chris moved over my body on the bed, kissing me hungrily, stirring the fire inside me. He chuckled as my legs wrapped around him, pulling him down on me.

  “I need to taste you, Gyps.” His teeth tugged at my bottom lip. “I want you to completely let go, okay? I promise, I have you.”

  I unhooked my legs from his back. His hands and lips moved slowly down my body, tasting and exploring every inch of my skin, my lungs heaving with yearning. The lower he moved, the more apprehension coiled in my throat like a threatened snake, hissing and contracting around my esophagus.

  “Breathe.” His brown eyes peered up at me, his hand rubbing in soothing motions on my thighs.

  I took in a deep breath and exhaled, letting my body relax into his touch. Normally, I wasn’t this uptight about anything sexual, but he had left me feeling exposed.

  He lowered himself to the floor, his eyes locked on me. My pulse hammered beneath the intensity of his stare, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. He moved with intention. Slow, but not tender. We never liked the sweet placid stuff.

  He dragged his teeth on the inside on my thigh, blowing lightly on me before he grazed the other thigh. My hips lifted in pleasure but the coldness on my spine depleted the air in my lungs. His hands glided up and down my thighs as if he sensed my anxiety. It wasn’t until now I realized he was right: handing this over purposefully to someone, giving up control, made me feel so raw.

  I hated being weak or scared. It made me want to get up and walk away, while I built every wall back up, ignoring these feelings and moving on to someone else with whirlwind speed.

  But now Chris moved up my inner thigh, his mouth finding center, his tongue parting me with a groan. Lightning zapped up my spine, burning away the fear like kindling, releasing the constriction in my lungs. A noise hummed in my throat.

  Chris’s growl vibrated right into the core of me, filling me with desire.

  “Fuck, Stevie…” He grunted, pushing my legs farther apart, his hands sliding under my ass, lifting me, pulling me closer to him like a ravenous animal.

  “Oh…god.” I croaked, my head arching into the soft duvet. Fuck was right. Tarzan seemed to understand my body more than anyone else, pleasure and lust colliding into a raging fire, which scorched through every vein and muscle, shutting my brain down to a primal level. This was usually when I stopped someone, and I felt it now, the urge to reach down and pull Chris up to halt the feeling I was jumping out of an airplane without a chut
e.

  “I got you,” he muttered, breaking from me, feeling my instinct to push back. I bit down on my lip and against the fear zigzagging around my chest and forced my body to relax, opening myself wider. Giving myself over to him.

  A deep noise came from him as his lips returned to me. His hand slid from my ass, his fingers joining his mouth.

  Pleasure cut me like a knife, tearing a loud gasp from my lips. My body responding, bucking and arching into him, demanding more. “Shiiiiittfuckkkohhhgoddd,” I moaned, the words smashing together as he bent one of my knees higher, his fingers and mouth thrusting deeper. A burning sensation tapped at the base of my spine, generating a quiver through my bones.

  I was being a lot louder than I should, but I couldn’t stop. It was as though he took off my harness and freed me into the wild. My hips moved violently, nails digging into his head. This spurred a rough moan from him, which vibrated against me, forcing another set of jumbled words from my tongue as if I were possessed.

  His thumb slid up, finding the exact spot that made my lungs hitch, and my mouth parted in a cry. I felt myself losing control. Panic in my throat conflicted with the unbelievable sensations electrifying my body, but I forced it back, focusing on the feel of Chris’s hair between my fingers, the way he seemed to know exactly what to do. His desire for me, his groans that shook through me.

  I realized no one else but him would have been able to do this. I trusted him.

  “Damn, Stevie. You taste so fucking good. I never want to stop.” He grabbed my legs, hooking them over his shoulders as he continued to make my body dance around like a puppet.

  Chris nipped, tugging at my core, almost making me vault off the bed, my voice pleading for more. Desperate and brutal. Neither of us held back. There was no more logic or thoughts, only desire and primal need.

  “Chris...” I heard myself cry out, my neck and back arching off the bed, running straight for the cliff and leaping off. He softly nipped down, and everything exploded in me, ripping away sight and sound. I could no longer feel my body or the world around me. I stopped breathing, living in pure bliss where no darkness touched me.

  My lungs gasped for oxygen, bringing me slowly back to earth. My thighs shook, my insides still contracting as my orgasm clung to my body, not wanting to let go.