Ash to Steele (26 page)

   “I’ve wanted you from the second I saw you,” Breck admits, closing the distance between us with one last step.

   “I don’t mean that kind of want.”

   “I know.”  He grasps a lock of my hair, slowly sliding it through his fingers.

   “Tell me what you want,” I ask, struggling to hear my words over the pounding in my chest.

   “I want to forget you!” he yells, “I want to forget that I ever met you. You drive me insane, Emma!  So fucking crazy!” Breck grabs my arm, roughly yanking my body to his. 

   I can feel his breath hot against my cold skin as he stares at me, his eyes blazing so intensely, I would swear I can feel the burn. 

   His fingers dig into my skin even tighter, “I’ve been with so many women that I can’t even remember over half of their names, but I can’t forget one damn thing about you!  With you, I remember everything, from the moment I first saw you.  I remember how your eyes looked like the ocean at Saint Anne, like I could see straight into your soul and, somehow, you got into mine!  I’ve always stood on my own, not needing anything or anyone, but now, you fucked all that up, Emma!”  He gives me a little shake before letting go, angrily raking his hands through his hair.  “I need you to be mine so badly my chest aches.  Do you see what you’ve done to me?  For the first time in so many years, I need something from someone else…I need you to tell me you’re mine, to
swear
that you are mine, because, damn you, I need to be yours!”

   His confession knocks the air out of me, just as ruthlessly as if he punched me in the stomach.  I gasp, desperately try to fill my lungs with air, “I am yours. You’ve always had me; even when I hated you, you had me.” 

   All coherent thoughts disintegrate when Breck grabs my shoulders, pulling me against him.  The heat of his body radiates through my skin as his hand runs behind my head, sliding up my neck until his fingers are tangled in my hair, pulling it until my mouth is almost touching his.  The intensity of his gaze weakens me.  Steel blue phases into a stormy gray as his mouth collides with mine. 

   My head spins. My knees go weak as I collapse against him, my body not able to handle the intensity of the sensations exploding inside of me.  Breck’s lips claim mine with such power, for one second, I am afraid.  I know the danger of losing myself in him, but then the fear is gone; there is no one else I would rather lose myself to. 

   His hand fists my hair as his kiss deepens, his tongue pushing, probing, demanding access.  Opening my mouth, I kiss him back.  The feel of his lips conquering me, the taste of his tongue as it slides over mine, colliding, taming, plundering, sends the sweetest shivers down my spine.  His teeth graze my bottom lip, nipping and lavishing as his tongue tastes my lips, then plunges inside again, breaking me to his will.  I need him with such desperation, I cringe at my weakness but allow him to tame me.

   His hand tugs harder, pulling my head back further as he pushes me against the wall, his mouth continuing to feed his fevered hunger as he moves from my lips to my neck.  I quiver, and he tangles his hand further in my hair and grabs my wrist, pinning it against the wall above my head.  My body writhes against his, needing to feel all of him.  His mouth tortures my neck.  The tip of his tongue slowly circles the soft spot between my collar bone before his teeth graze the sensitive skin behind my ear and I gasp, pushing my body against his, but his grip on my wrist tightens, holding me in place.

   Tearing his mouth from me, I can see the hunger in his eyes and on his swollen lips.  “There’s something you need to know Emma.  You will have to decide where we go from here once I tell you,” his voice is strained, and I can tell he’s scared of my reaction to whatever he is going to say.

   His grip on my wrist doesn’t ease as he holds nothing back, showing me his anger.  I can taste his rage, his fear, as I’m held captive, unable to move, but I don’t want to move.  His grip is dominating, but gentle, and my mind reels at the contradictions. 

   “The name of the man who attacked you is Edwin.  He lives at a rundown crack house twenty minutes from where you used to live.  I went there that night, Emma.  After he hurt you.”

   My heart pounds in my chest as he closes his eyes, squeezing them shut before opening them, his resolve is clear when my eyes widen, afraid to hear what he’s going to say next.  “It was me who did what you saw when the police took you to identify him at the hospital before we came here.” 

   Breck squeezes my wrist like he’s terrified if he lets me go I’m going to run, “The only reason he’s alive is because Gavin got to you in time.”  His voice is low, raw, as he continues, “If he had raped you, I would have killed him, Emma.  All of them.”

   I know I should feel something about what he just confessed.  Fear, disgust, remorse…something, but I don’t. I saw the damage he did; I could barely recognize the man whose face I will never forget.  At the hospital, when I saw the men who hurt James, who hurt me, I was sickened by the brutality they suffered.  I wanted justice, but not that, not what happened to them.   If it were anyone else telling me he savagely beat and would kill another human being, my reaction would be drastically different, but I don’t fear Breck, I can’t.  What he did was wrong and I know it, but I’m just as wrong as he is for not blaming him.

   I see no guilt in Breck’s eyes, only gut wrenching sorrow as he finally lets me go.  His head drops as he takes a step away from me, “Like I said, you deserve much better than someone like me.”

   I can’t find the words to say right now that would make him change his mind so I don’t say anything.  Grabbing his wrist, I take his hand, slowly placing it against my cheek.  My eyes never leave his as I kiss his palm.  I watch the disbelief in his eyes slowly fade as I press each of his fingers to my lips, slowly kissing the tip of each of one.  Kissing his wrist, I pull him towards me.  “My decision is you.  It has always been you, even before we met, I just didn’t know it yet.”

  “I’m poison for you,” he whispers with tears brimming his eyes, “but I can’t let you go.”  Breck nearly groans, the pain from his words edged in his voice as he pulls me against his chest. 

   “You don’t have to.” In his arms, he’s the more that I’ve needed, the more that I’ve waited for my entire life; there’s no doubt that this is where I belong.

   “I will do everything I can not to fuck this up,” he vows before his lips find mine again.  “Emma,” he breathes into my ear, “I want to do right by you, take things slow.  I don’t share your beliefs, but I respect you, and I won’t do anything to make you choose.”

   “Okay,” I whisper against his chest as he brushes a soft kiss against my forehead, closing my eyes at the heaviness in my heart at how I feel my faith slipping and at how much pain he is in.

   There’s a difference in his touch when his mouth claims me again.  The intensity is just as fierce as it was before, but his kiss is soft, gentle, and tenderly passionate.  His tongue sweeps across the sensitive fullness of my lips, still swollen from the kisses before, causing an eruption of emotions inside of me.  I’m powerless, completely at his mercy, and I’m ambivalent about the free fall sending me spiraling into his control.  He goes against everything I believe, but how I feel for him seems just as strong of a truth, making my faith in him undeniable.

    “Right now, I just want to hold you,” he tells me right before lifting me in his arms, “and maybe taste your lips a little more.”

   Laying me on the bed, he pulls me against him, brushing the hair off my neck as his thumb traces the line of my jaw, my bottom lip, then his mouth takes over showing me what he hasn’t said yet.  I need to hear those words, but, for now, I’ll take what he is able to give.

͠

   It’s been ten weeks since the attack, since Breck first kissed me, since my entire world changed when Breck told me he was mine.  He has held true to his word and has taken things slow, not once asking to make love to me.  He hasn’t told me he loves me yet, either.  Pathetically, I wait every day to hear those words, but they never come.

   The new apartment is much nicer than the last, but it’s also a lot more in rent.  Breck tried to find out my financial situation, but I need to make it on my own, so I’ve lied. I still haven’t told Dad about what happened, I don’t want to.  It happened; I can’t change it, but it no longer affects my life, so why should it his?  Braden treats me like I’m broken since he saw the proof of that night still on my face when I returned to work.  He walks me to my car and has stayed every night that I’ve worked late.  It’s obvious that Breck isn’t handling that very well, especially with the way he glares at Braden when he stops by to take me to lunch and Braden touches my arm or brushes up against me when I’m showing him something.

   Justin still calls, but I’ve made it clear there will never be anything more between us than friendship.  Breck doesn’t like when he calls, but Justin doesn’t seem to bother him as much as Braden does; I guess the distance plays the factor in that.  I can see Breck’s struggle with his jealousy.  It’s amazing that he’s jealous when it’s him who gets all the attention everywhere we go.  It’s hell watching women make no qualms showing him that they are his for the taking. 

   “Bye, Tammy,” I call as I head out the door of the gallery.  I’ve spent too many sleepless nights painting, trying to complete the new series of works I want to show Mr. Mazers, that is, if he will allow me to have another chance.  These paintings are different than any I’ve ever painted before, but I feel they are also the best I’ve ever painted before, too. Breck’s been my inspiration for the mixture of expressionism and abstraction styles I’ve chosen for the ethereal series.  My favorite is the angel.  His withered wings are tainted, broken, as they fall, wrapped around the damaged angel as he kneels, staring at the sky.  There’s a sorrow in his eyes contradicting the light surrounding him as he struggles to stand.   Jess’ favorite is the female angel, darkness engulfing her in the shadows as she fights to break free.  

   Placing the key in the ignition, my car sputters, refusing to crank.  “No, no, no,” I groan, stomping the floor board.  Breck’s at Kylianna’s and Jess is at the bar.  Trying a few more times, it refuses to start.  Groaning, I hesitantly call Breck, not wanting to take him away from work. 

   “Hi, Beautiful,” Breck answers. 

   “Hi, yourself.  You busy?”

   “Just getting ready to head to the Dark Hole to meet Gavin for a drink.  You’d think on his night off he would want to go somewhere else.  Why?”

   “My car won’t start, but it’s okay.  I’ll take the subway; I don’t want to ruin your plans.”

   “I’m on my bike, but I will pick you up.  I don’t like you being on the subway this time of night.  Stay in your car, I’ll be there in a few.”

   I hear the Harley before I see it.  Breck parks next to me, removing his helmet.  His blue eyes shine under the pale light of the street lamp, sending decadent shivers as strong as an electric current.  I miss falling asleep in his arms; we haven’t slept in the same bed since New York.  I know it’s because he’s trying to follow through on his promise to take things slow, but I ache for him.  He’s done nothing more than kiss me, making me feel like the wanton one by wanting so much more, especially since his kisses leave me writhing in desire. If I hadn’t seen the proof myself, I would never have believed his reputation.    

   “You can open the door now, Em,” he teases as he pulls on the handle, pulling me out of my sexual fog. 

   “Sorry,” I stammer.  Pointing nervously at his bike, I ask, “Don’t you think it’s still a little chilly to be riding that, even with the warm front.”

   Chuckling, he sits on the seat, crossing his feet and arms as he looks at me, his eyes gleaming sinfully when he challenges, “Scared?”

   He knows I’ve never been on a bike in my entire unadventurous life.  “No.  I’ve always wanted to ride a Harley,” I answer honestly.  I’ve been anxiously waiting until Spring to ask him to take me out for a ride.  I guess I’ll get my chance a few days early.

   “Think you can handle it?” he smirks, laughing at me. 

   Wanting to bury my fingers in his sexy, disheveled brown locks and pull his cocky mouth to my lips, his laugh does wicked things to me and my body shivers involuntarily.

   “Here, take my jacket, the wind is much colder on the bike,” Breck offers, mistaking the reason for my reaction.  Tossing me his helmet, he pats the seat, “C’mon, Em, I’m getting ready to give you the ride of your life.”  His eyes sparkle as his lips curve into a sensual smile, torturing me. 

   “Where’s your helmet?”

   “Only have one.”

  I hand it back, “I’m just going to take the subway, I-”

   Breck’s fingers cover my mouth, cutting me off, effectively stripping the air from my lungs as he brushes them lightly against my lips.  “Shut up, put the helmet on, and get on the back of my bike, stubborn ass woman,” he teases.

   When his finger leaves my lips, I can still feel the lingering warmth as I climb on the bike behind him.

   “You are going to have to hold onto me tight, Em,” he tells me, grabbing my wrists and pulling them around his waist, locking my hands against his firm muscles.

  A sharp intake of breath fills my lungs with the cool night air.  The feel of Breck’s strong back against my breasts makes me want to feel him skin to skin.