Compulsion: Magnetic Desires (21 page)

BOOK: Compulsion: Magnetic Desires
5.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I reached for my phone in the dark and thumbed the keypad until the screen lit up. Whenever I had one of these dreams, I was driven to call Clo. Before I could stop myself I'd entered her number, my thumb hovering over the call button.

On the few occasions I’d asked her to come over, I’d struggled with the need to take her in my arms, carry her to my room, and make love to her. In my dreams, I’d had her a thousand times before, but that was part of the problem. My memories of those months before the accident were patchy at best. There were moments when I’d remember being with her, kissing her, lying beside her. Those were the best moments of my goddamn life. I ached to have that again, and yet, I couldn’t remember
being
with her. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. We’d been so close before. Back where I could remember. After that, after the memories faded to almost nothing, there was only uncertainty of what we’d had. I’d done something in that time, been something extra for her then. I must have been for her to finally be mine, and the fact that I couldn’t remember, that I might not be that for her scared the shit out of me. So I kept my distance, telling myself it was only until those memories I’d lost came back. They would, I was sure, eventually resurface and we’d be able to find our way back. Still the slight hint of hurt mixed with longing whenever she glanced at me told me I was hurting her. Not knowing how to stop it, unable to deal with the pain I was inflicting on us both, I kept my distance. Reminding myself it was only temporary. Soon, I’d remember and when I did, I’d never lose her again. Only, when I dreamed, and especially on those nights I dreamed I was dying she was the one thing, the one person I wanted.

Taking a deep breath, I mashed my thumb to the screen. She would be asleep, so she wouldn’t get it until morning, but my heart beat unsteadily each time I made these calls. Rubbing a hand over my head, I put my phone on speaker.

"Hello." She stifled a yawn.

"Hi," I whispered, unsure what to say.

"Orion?"

"It’s me." If I hung up now, she'd go back to sleep. Maybe she wouldn't even remember I'd called.

"Are you okay?"

"I...don’t know." I had no excuse for calling at — I checked the time — four-thirty in the morning. "I’m sorry I woke you."

"That’s okay, I haven’t been sleeping either."

"Can you come over?" I told myself to shut up. If she came, I couldn’t send her home.

"Now?" She moved about, and I imagined her tousled and beautiful. The urge to see her grew stronger.

"Please."

"I’m on my way." She hung up, and I stared at the blank screen. What the hell had I done?

My mind raced as I lay there waiting for her. I strained to hear the sound of her car and the knock on my front door that would follow shortly after. It would be best if I called her back and told her not to come. It was ridiculous to drag her out of bed in the middle of the night, but changing my mind made me feel worse, and besides I needed to see her. Memories built into my flesh and blood called for her in a way I could not wrap my mind around.

Slipping out of bed, I grabbed my robe and shivered as the chill of early morning soaked into my bones. Waiting for her, I paced the darkened living room lit only by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree Birdie had insisted upon. I halted my steps when I heard her car. My hand trembled on the doorknob as I opened it for her.

She shook as she stepped inside, and her breaths came out in white puffs. I was a fucking idiot to make her come out in the middle of Christmas Eve. There was no way I could turn her away now.

"Hi." Teeth chattering, she rubbed her hands together trying to warm them.

I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to her. How could I tell her what was on my mind when I couldn't make sense of it? When I didn't know how to put my thoughts into words? "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called."

"Why did you?" She tilted her head to stare at me and raised an eyebrow.

"I have these dreams" —was I really going to admit to her how much I needed her? —"about dying. Dreams where you are the only thing I can think of."

"Oh." Her mouth fascinated me as it performed a perfect
O
. She reached for me, but dropped her hand.

Catching it, I placed it on my chest. "I’m trying to remember. It’s hard to see parts of our story, and try to make sense of them, but in my dreams you are everything to me. You must know, I must have told you, I have always loved you."

She stepped closer, leaving only an inch between us and her fingers curled against my chest. Her tongue darted over her lips, and I wished it was mine. "You did tell me that."

"Then you know I want you, all of you, every inch of you, forever. I must have told you that too." The words were flowing; uncomplicated and untangled from the mess in my mind.

"Uh-huh." The gap between us disappeared.

"I’m scared. Part of me wants to keep you away until I remember everything. Until we can pick things up where we left them. I don’t want to feel like we’re starting out when I know we’re not and yet, there’s part of me that has waited so long to have you look at me the way you are. I can barely control myself around you." The words poured out, unstoppable. My body shaking as I laid it out for her.

"What if you never remember everything?"

"I will. I know I will." My memories would return. They had to.

"But what if you don’t?" she persisted. "You waited for me. You were patient, and I promised myself I’d be patient with you. I will wait for as long as you need me to, but what if you never remember?"

I scratched at the stubble on my jaw. If this was all there was, I couldn’t continue without her living in this echo of our reality.

"I don’t know what to do."

"Stop over thinking it. Do what feels right to you. It doesn’t matter if we have to start over. Trust me." Pressing into me, she lifted up on tiptoe, bringing her mouth so close the heat of her pulled me in.

I wanted to let go, scoop her up, and carry her to bed, but it was like losing my virginity again. My nerves were alight. What if I wasn’t the same man I’d been before? "What if it’s different? I don’t remember who I was for you."

She placed a hand on my shoulder. "That’s easy. You were you. The same man you’ve always been. The man who made me fall in love with him." Closing the gap, I took her mouth, groaning as she opened for me. My thoughts fled as I held onto her with both hands.

Kissing her was coming home, only better than that. It was as if I’d never known I had a home. There was no miraculous memory recovery, but there was something deeper and instinctive that recognized her as mine. We stumbled across the room as I sought more of her flesh with my hands, and my tongue slid between her teeth. I pushed her up against the wall next to the tree. The lights reflected over her skin as I devoured her mouth. The smell of pine intermingled with vanilla tickled my nostrils. Pushing my robe out of the way, she took my cock in her hand and stroked it while I shoved her pants down to her ankles. "Oh God, Clo, you don't know how long I've wanted to be with you."

She pressed her fingers to my lips. "I know, Orion, I know how much you need me.”

Wrapping a leg around my hip she guided me into her pussy, surrounding me with her heat. A groan tore up my throat, and I buried my head on her shoulder as I plunged into her. Letting her draw me in like gravity; blocking out everything but our need for each other.

Chapter Thirty-Four

"W
aking up beside her on Christmas Day was the perfect present. What I didn’t remember didn’t matter. I decided right then and there that I would ask her to move in with me as soon as I could. Unfortunately, others weren’t as happy about it as we were."

December 2011

Staring at her while she slept, I couldn’t stop the grin that split my face. Her eyes fluttered as she turned into me and wrapped a leg around my hip. It was hard to believe she was mine, even when she was wrapped around me. One day, I hoped I remembered how we'd gotten here, but for now, all that mattered was we were together.

"I missed you."

Her cheek curved against my chest and her eyelashes tickled my skin. Winding her hair around my fingers, my heart swelled at how easily she curled into me, and how natural it was to hold her naked body to mine. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." Leaning on her elbow, she nibbled at my lips.

"We have to get up." I tightened my hold on her. "The troops will start arriving any minute."

Sliding her hand beneath the covers, she wrapped her fingers around my cock. "Can’t we stay in bed, and pretend it's just another day."

"God, babe, there's nothing I want more, but we can't."

Rolling onto her back, she stared at the ceiling. "I have to go to my parents’ house."

"Don't forget to say hello to Hugh and Genevieve for me." Leaning over her, I nipped my way down her throat. "Bring me back some chocolate cake."

Groaning, she rolled away from me, leaving me aching for her touch. "Fucking chocolate cake."

"Did you ever tell them you hated it?" I sat up.

"When I was ten." She tickled my back with her nails. "I want to spend Christmas with you."

She got out of bed to find her clothes, and I wandered my gaze over her naked body. "I like you like this."

"What?"

"Naked." Throwing off the blankets I got up too.

"You certainly prefer me pantyless. I only have a few pair left and you need to take me shopping." She shimmied into her pants.

"What? Did I..." Gaping at her, I imagined ripping them from her.

"You tore through almost every damn pair, quite literally." She came back to me and pulled me down for a kiss. "Not that I minded."

"How soon can you get back?"

"I’m not sure. I’ll be as quick as I can. What about Birdie and your mom? What are you going to tell them?"

"What should I tell them? Birdie knows we’re together. I’m guessing Mom does too." Picking up my jeans, I got into them, careful with the buttons after the effect she'd had on me with the panties comment.

"I’m not sure it’s that simple." She pulled her sweater over her head. "Birdie isn’t happy with me at the moment."

"What do you mean?" I skirted the bed to get a T-shirt. "I mean I know she’s protective of me, but she knows how much you mean to me."

"She blames me for the accident." Clo tied her hair up in a messy ponytail. "Hell I blame me."

"Wait, slow down." I took her hands. "It wasn’t your fault. You know that."

"I know." Deflated, she cast her gaze to the floor. "But maybe, you wouldn’t have been on that road if—"

"If what?"

She sat on the bed, and I crouched in front of her. "If what?"

"I broke up with you. I was an idiot, which shouldn’t come as a surprise, and told you I never wanted to see you again." She had the sexiest pout, but her eyes were glazed and I was worried she would cry. "They found your phone on the floor of the truck. The message I sent you was on your screen when they opened it up. I was the first person they called. If I hadn’t been such an idiot, you wouldn’t have had the accident."

"Babe." My arm around her, I brushed at the tears that slipped from the corners of her eyes. "It wasn’t your fault, and Birdie will come round. We have to give her time."

"I hope so," she whispered, "but it isn’t going to happen this morning. I need to go."

At the door, I planted a long lingering kiss on her mouth before I let her go. Clo drove out of the drive a second before Birdie pulled in, and I raced to help her and Mom carry trays of food into the house.

"Was that Clodagh?" Mom asked as I stooped down to kiss her cheek.

I took the trays into the kitchen for her. "She’s my girlfriend."

"You’re back together?" Birdie dumped grocery bags on the counter. "Haven’t you had enough? Is she worth the trouble?"

"Birdie," Mom warned.

"No. I mean she’s nice, but she’s broken, and you deserve someone who isn’t going to judge you by their own issues."

I crossed my arms and stared at her. Hearing her talk about Clo like that got my back up. "What do you know? You’ve never had a boyfriend. Clo has baggage, but so does everyone. It doesn’t matter to me and that should be all that matters to you."

"I know your memory isn’t all there yet," she snapped, "but do you remember she dumped your ass because you told her Zack cheated on her in high school? I mean how could she compare you to him?"

"She told me this morning, and it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t remember everything, but I remember enough. As long as it doesn’t matter to her, it doesn’t matter to me. She’s coming over as soon as she can, so if you’re going to stay, you better plan on being nice to her."

She glared at me before she spun on her heel and stalked out of the room.

Mom watched her go before she turned to me. "Don’t be too hard on your sister. She worries about you."

"I know," I grumbled and sifted through the bags of groceries. "Mellie and Mike will be here shortly. We better get the turkey in the oven before they get here."

Mom rinsed her hands under the tap. "I’ll start on the pies while you stuff the turkey."

"What do you want me to do?" Birdie stood in the doorway and rolled up her sleeves. I pulled her in for a hug.

"I don’t want to fight with you, Orion. If you’re happy then I’m happy. I promise I’ll be nice to her."

"Thanks." I started on the stuffing. I couldn’t wait to have Clo back in my arms. This would be our first Christmas together, and I was looking forward to it.

Birdie and Mom were finishing up in the kitchen when Mike and Mellie arrived. The smell of turkey wafted through the house.

"Merry Christmas." Mellie swooped in for a hug. "You're looking happy today."

Her face was pinched, and there had been steel in her hug. Something was off with her.

Mike clapped me on the back and handed over a bottle of scotch; expensive, top shelf, and smooth as fire. "Is it too early to open this up?"

It had to be the right time somewhere, and it was Christmas Day. I left them to get glasses. Pouring generous amounts of the amber liquid into glasses, I took them into the living room. Mellie sat on the couch while Mike had kicked his legs up over the side of the recliner.

Other books

Many Lives by Stephanie Beacham
Beware the Fisj by Gordon Korman
El rebaño ciego by John Brunner
Silent Playgrounds by Danuta Reah
Miss Wyoming by Douglas Coupland
Shotgun by Courtney Joyner
Earth to Emily by Pamela Fagan Hutchins
Big Bad Beast by Shelly Laurenston