Breaking Skye (11 page)

More than a week had gone by and Skye hadn’t heard from him. She’d mostly holed up in her apartment, alone and miserable, other than when Esme had dragged her out for coffee. Not that she’d been able to drink any coffee—her stomach had been in knots since the night she’d left Adam’s house. She’d been living on tea and old black and white movies, going through boxes of Kleenex.

Why couldn’t she seem to stop crying? She was supposed to be mad, not sad. Wasn’t she?

Of course, he had every right to be angry with her after she’d run out on him like that. Terrible manners, she knew, especially in the more formal realm of the BDSM life, but she’d had to get out of there.

Curled up on her old, overstuffed velvet sofa with a soft afghan over her lap, as she was now, she’d spent most of the week going over their conversation, dissecting it from every angle. But she always came to the same conclusion—that Adam was incapable of real intimacy. He’d pretty much told her so himself, had even told her why. And he resented that she’d made him do it, made him feel something for her.

What sort of transformation would he have to go through before he could break through those old walls? If he was even willing to try.

No, he would have dumped her sooner or later, and the longer it took, the more attached she would have become, until his rejection would have been unbearable.

It was nearly unbearable already.

She turned to look out the living room window at the cityscape she had always loved. But it looked bleak and lonely to her now. As empty as she felt on the inside.

The only other thing she’d done other than huddling under a blanket was drawing—she’d been drawing
him
all week. The table in her tiny kitchen was littered with sketches in charcoal and pencil. She’d tried to capture the musculature of his big body, the details of his strong hands, the flawless lines of his tattoo. Mostly she’d tried to draw his face. But she couldn’t seem to get the eyes right. And every time she tried she’d start crying again.

Finally she’d set up her easel in the living room close to the bay window  and painted, just a series of strokes in burnt umber and highlighted with white. The result wasn’t very good. But it captured him a little better than the flatter sketches did. Still, his eyes refused to come alive for her.

She didn’t think she’d ever feel Adam again, alive and warm and commanding her heart as much as her body.

Never again.

What had happened to forever? Had that ever been more than fantasy? An illusion she’d only ever hoped for in those fleeting moments when she’d dared?

Shit.

She dropped her gaze. She still had paint under her fingernails. She hadn’t bothered to give her hands a good scrub. Hadn’t bathed in a day or two. She wasn’t really sure how long it had been since she’d done anything more than throw on an old pair of paint-splattered jeans and a warm thermal top, twisting her long hair up into a loose ponytail. She felt like a mess, inside and out. And she couldn’t get warm no matter how high she turned up the furnace, no matter how many layers of clothing she put on. The cold came from deep inside her, like an internal stratum of ice.

So this was what a broken heart felt like. She didn’t much like it. In fact, it was fucking awful.

She pulled a pillow to her body, telling herself to pull it together. She had a gallery show next month and she was behind in her work. But she felt completely devoid of inspiration. She could paint nothing but him.

Adam.

She sighed, shook her head, and jumped at the knock at her door. Her heart leaped in her chest as she moved across the living room into the hall, and opened the door.

“Hi…um…are you Skye Ballard? I think I got your mail.” A gawky young man with dark-framed glasses and a Charlie Brown sweater stood there, several envelopes in his hand.

“Oh, yes, that’s me.” Why did her heart drop into her stomach? Had she really expected he would come after her? It would more likely have been Esme trying to drag her out of the house again. “Uh, thanks.”

She took the mail, turned, and swung the door behind her. It didn’t close.

She could smell him. She’d know his scent anywhere. She whirled around, her legs going weak already, and he was there. Adam. She could hardly believe it.

The mail dropped onto the wood floor, but she didn’t care. What could he possibly want? And why did he have to look so damn beautiful, making her head spin?

Oh, God.

She put a hand to her hair self-consciously.

“Skye.”

Even the sound of his voice made her quiver all over. She had to get a hold of herself. “Adam…What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

She couldn’t figure out what to say, so she stepped aside and let him in. Her pulse was racing with fear, with a yearning so strong she could hardly stand it. She led him into the living room, gestured for him to sit down, but he went immediately to the painting by the window.

“It’s me.”

She bit her lip. “Yes.”

“You’re very good.”

“It’s awful. It’s not…I can’t get it right.”

When he turned his gaze was full of emotion. Shocking, to see his face like that. She was shaking. “No, Skye. You had it right all along.”

“What do you mean?”

Two long strides and he was right in front of her. He took her shoulders in his hands and held on tight. Her heart felt as though it would pound right out of her chest. She was going weak all over from his touch, his scent, from the nearness of him.

His eyes were pure, smoky blue fire as he gazed down at her, and she had an overwhelming sense of his height, the breadth of his big body. The pure power of his commanding presence. And the emotion on his face. For the first time in her life she understood what it might mean to swoon.

“Damn it, Skye, all the way over here I knew exactly what I needed to say to you. But now I’m here and…you’re so fucking beautiful, I’m speechless. That’s never happened to me before.”

Tears stung her eyes, but she had to laugh. “I look like hell.”

He shook his head, his brows drawing together. “You look perfect. That’s why I’m here. You
are
perfect, and I’m an idiot to pass that up. You are perfect for me.”

“I don’t understand.”

Her pulse ran hot in her veins. Her breath came in shallow gasps.

“That last night…everything you said was true. I knew it. I was just too damn stubborn to listen. And what did that get me? A fucking miserable week without you.”

“It’s been eight days,” she said quietly.

He nodded. “Eight long days with me driving myself crazy thinking about you. Needing you. Fucking
needing
you until I thought I would explode. Needing to touch you, to
kiss
you, God damn it. But just as much to
talk
to you. But I spent a week being stubborn. Being stupid. I know I’m an asshole, Skye. I’m sorry, I truly am sorry. And I know we hardly know each other. But we
do
. I’ve talked about it before, the intensity of connection in the BDSM life. I’ve been on panels speaking about it, even though I’ve never allowed myself to go there with anyone. But I get it. I always have. It’s like the time is condensed for us, magnified by the things we do together. By the trust that’s implicit in these acts. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes. I know exactly.”

She was beginning to loosen up all over, to warm up finally. The heat started where his hands slid down onto her arms, spread down into her belly. It was the intensity of the physical chemistry between them—there was no denying it. But it was something more, too. She could see it in his face. Felt it in every beat of her heart.

“Tell me what this means, Adam?” she asked. “Please.”

“I don’t know—not exactly. This is all new to me. But I want to find out.”

She watched the transformation as his features went soft, making her heart surge. She saw pure, raw emotion there for the first time. Saw the gentle gleam in his eyes as he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, bent down and kissed her. His lips were the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted. And his hands holding her face felt warm.
Safe.
Her breath came out on a sigh laced with gentle tears.

She pulled away. “I’ve been so mad at you. And you’ve been so stubborn.”

“Yes. Stubborn. Stupid. Fucking scared. And I’m sorry. I am. So damn sorry I put us both through this.”

She held onto his shoulders—because she needed to touch him. Needed something to hang on to. “I’ve been scared, too. And I know I’ve had my walls up. But you made me tear them down. I haven’t even been able to fight it. I was mad that you could.”

“Not really. But I put on a good show, didn’t I?” He smoothed a hand over her hair. “That’s kind of my specialty.”

“Don’t ever do that with me again,” she said fiercely, her fingers digging into the heavy muscle of his shoulders.

“Baby…” His expression grew more serious, his brows drawn together as he studied her face, kissed her lips softly, pulled back. “I won’t. At least, I’ll try not to. I’m counting on you to call me on it if I do. If we’re going to be together, I need a woman who can do that. Who can stand up to me as needed. Who wants the kink, but isn’t always the submissive. I want a woman who can
think
. I want a woman like you.”

“Do you? Tell me again. I need to hear it.”

He bent his head until his forehead rested on hers. He said quietly, “I want you, Skye. I want to be with you. I need to be with you. Fucking
need
to. It’s that need that forced me to push through the resistance I’ve built up all my life because I couldn’t risk…losing someone again. But I need you more than I want to avoid all that shit I thought I’d dealt with. I still have a ways to go, but I don’t want you to ever doubt it again. I won’t be the kind of man you’ve always been afraid every man would be.”

“It’s true. It was…unfair.”

“No, I understand it. And I almost was that man. But I couldn’t let myself be. Because I need you, my beautiful girl. Because I love you.”

A sob escaped her. “Adam…”

His hands wrapped around her, pulling her in tight. He whispered, “Is it not what you wanted to hear? Because I can’t fucking help myself. Maybe it sounds insane, but I love you, Skye. I just do.”

Tears pooled, blurring everything but the sensation of his body pressed against hers, every plane, every muscle, every beat of his heart held tight against her.

“This is exactly where I want you to be, Adam. Exactly what I needed to hear. Maybe we’ve both gone crazy, because I love you, too. I do.”

His arms tightened, until she could barely breathe, but she didn’t care. He kissed her hair, pulled back to kiss her cheeks, her neck, then finally her mouth, over and over, until her head was swimming, her heart bursting.

“I love you, my baby,” he murmured against her mouth. “And I need you now.”

He moved her to the sofa, laid her down and undressed her slowly, his touch almost reverential. He took a few moments to take his clothes off, to take a condom from his pocket and sheathe himself, his gaze never leaving her face as he lowered his body over hers. He was kissing her again, his tongue doing lovely things to her mouth, sending heat lancing through her body. She held his face in her hands, needing to keep him close, loving the soft scratch of his goatee under her palms. Her breasts filled, ached, and when he crushed her naked body to his she wanted nothing more than to be right there, with
him
.

To be
his
.

She broke away to tell him, to demand of him, “Touch me, Adam. Be with me.”

“That’s all I want, Skye,” he murmured, raining kisses over her shoulders, her breasts, her belly. “To be with you.”

This was new to her, too, allowing herself to feel this way about a man, wanting him to feel the same way about her. Even though neither of them knew exactly what the hell they were doing, they would explore the possibilities together.

He raised himself up until he was poised over her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her thighs, opened to
him
. Completely.

“Touch me the way I need you to, Adam. Come on.”

He pulled back and grinned down at her as he pinched one nipple between his strong fingers. She arched up, her body suffused with pleasure through the pain.

“Is this what you’re asking me for, my beautiful girl?”

“Yes. Oh, yes.”

“I’ll always try to give you what you need. Always. That’s what I want with you, Skye.”

“Adam…”

She blinked away a tear. She wouldn’t cry anymore. Not now, when she was seeing her heart’s desire come to life. A desire she’d never even known she had until she’d met him.

“What does that mean when you say always?”

“That we can be together,” he answered, his voice rough. Raw. “If that’s what you want. That we can try this. But with that intention. Permanency. I think it’s the only way we can go into a relationship. And that’s what I want with you. I want you to be mine. To be
my
girl.”

“I want that, too. To love you.”

His features shifted once more, and she saw everything he was feeling. And it reflected her own emotions, surging in a wild tumble in her chest. 

“I fell for you, Skye,” he said, his voice soft with wonder. “Fell so damn hard. I never thought this was possible. But it’s happening. You brought me here. And I’m grateful. I’m damn grateful.” He stroked her cheek softly, bent to brush a kiss across her lips. In that kiss she felt all that he was saying. Felt again the chemistry buzzing between them. The connection that was both implied and intensified by their naked bodies pressed together.

“I think I fell the moment I saw you,” she told him. “I want this. I want you. I want to be yours.”

“You are mine, Skye,” he murmured as he pushed himself into her. “
Mine
.”

He wrapped his arms around her body, holding her tight as he began to move, as she began to move with him, their bodies in perfect synchronicity. She was lost in his embrace, in
Adam
, in who he was, in everything he was to her already. For the first time in her life, she allowed herself to be.