Connected (Twists of Fate #1) (12 page)

Xavier leaned back into his chair. “Motherfucker,” he muttered, staring her in the eye.

“You’re not crazy, are you?”

Man, you’re a quick one. That’s what she was trying to tell you, Einstein. Way to put it
together.

“No, I’m not crazy. But I feel like I’m getting there pretty damn fast. I can’t believe he jumped into you. I can still feel him, ya know. Not his presence, but I feel a pull towards him…you.” She rubbed at a spot in her chest. “Right here.”

“Yeah, I can feel it too. You guys must be…connected somehow.”
What can you feel? What is she saying?

“He… Shit. It’s really Rhys in my head, isn’t it?”

Are you deaf?!
Xavier felt a thump in his head.
Hello?!

She smiled, her whole face softening in sentimental appreciation. “Yeah, it is. Talk to him.”

“He’s berating me.”

So you
can
hear me, you stubborn sonofabitch.

She giggled. “You’re surprised by that?”

“No, not really.”

“He’s probably pissed at being ignored. He doesn’t take it very well. Go ahead. Talk to him.”

He looked at Addison uncertainly.

Hello? McFly?

“You don’t have to talk out loud if you feel…I don’t know,
silly
doing that. Think it, and he’ll hear it.” She crossed her legs and tipped her head back, closing her eyes. “I’ll just sit here and let you two do your thing.” Suddenly lifting her lids, she pegged him with a cautious stare.

“Just…don’t move or anything, okay?” She rubbed at her chest again. “I don’t think I can handle the distance.”

He nodded, knowing he’d feel the distance too, and she closed her eyes again.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, feeling completely ridiculous.
Rhys?

Shit. It’s about time!

Holy fucking hell.

Why did you have to be so goddamned nasty to her? Here she is, doing me a huge fucking
favor, and you shit all over her!

Why would I believe her?!
His defenses shot straight up, and suddenly, it was like Rhys had never been gone.

The stray thought knotted his gut.

Okay. Point.
Rhys’ tone calmed begrudgingly.
But you still didn’t have to go all hardass on
her.

Stone cold reality set in a notch further as Xavier listened to his brother’s voice. He knew there were a million questions needing to be asked, but for the life of him, he couldn’t formulate a single one.

Jesus, Rhys. Your—
He choked on the word, just couldn’t bring himself to say it.

I know, man. I know. It’s cool. I’m good.

Hearing his little brother soothe him over his own death…

I’m not sure I am. Bloody hell.
He mentally shook himself out, tossing off the dark thoughts and flat out refusing to acknowledge them.
So you’re…good? Um…okay?

Yeah. Shit, it was an adjustment, right? But Addi got me through.

Xavier glanced at Addison, appearing vulnerable with her lids squeezed shut and her hands clasped tightly.
How did you get her to agree to contact me? She doesn’t seem the type to put
herself out there like that.

A sleepless night,
he said with a chuckle.

Meaning…?

Ya know that movie Ghost, when Patrick Swayze sings
Henry The Eighth I Am
to Whoopi to
get her to do what he wants?

Xavier barely held in a laugh.
You didn’t.

Rhys didn’t bother holding his back.
You bet your ass I did! She didn’t appreciate the irony,
me being a ghost and all, but I thought it was funny as hell.

The sound of Rhys’ humor relaxed him like nothing ever could.

Despite that, you little shit, she seems to have taken to you. Or is it just tolerance?

Xavier felt a mental shove at the comment.

We’ve progressed. At least she stopped calling me AL.

Al?

Afterlife Leech.

This time Xavier couldn’t stop the chuckle from slipping through, drawing Addison’s curious gaze.

“Regular comedian, isn’t he?” she asked, rolling her eyes, then looking to the floor. She continued twisting her fingers together.

Jesus. It was totally bizarre having Rhys in his head, and—he was man enough to admit—a little fucking freaky.

Tell me. How does this work with her?

Xavier listened with genuine interest as Rhys explained how he could hear her thoughts and what she said, that they could feel each other’s emotions, and if she concentrated enough, he could see what she did. They also learned to block each other, although that part was a bit too confusing for Xavier to grasp.

It just kept growing from there,
Rhys said with a sigh.
Like right now… I can feel myself tied
to her. It anchors me. She’s close, right?

Yeah. She’s sitting across from me.

Concentrate on her for me. I want to see she’s okay.

Xavier stared at her all curled up on the chair.

There she is,
Rhys murmured, apparently seeing her image.

“I’m showing you to Rhys.” Xavier said, trying to maintain his focus.

She lifted her gorgeous eyes and smiled, giving a shy wave. “Is he good?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he responded.

Her smile grew.

What did she say?

She asked if you were all right,
Xavier said.

God, look at her. She’s beautiful.
He said it reverently, making Xavier half-wonder if he was imagining it.

This was Rhys, right?

I bet she’s fucking adorable when she blushes.

I could see that about her,
Xavier admitted.

You have to do me a favor, X. Tell her I want to dedicate a song on our next album to her.

Ah…all right.

Tell her it’s titled
Nocturnal Degradation.

Xavier considered the request.
What the hell does that mean?

Just do it, man.

“Rhys wants to dedicate a song to you on the next album.” Her spine straighten as a pleased expression brightened her face. “He does?” He nodded. “He wants to title it
Nocturnal Degradation.
” Her back lost its solid line as her cheeks flushed. “Oh, my God.” She clasped her hands over her face.

Rhys’ laugh bellowed in his head, causing Xavier to chuckle in turn.

“He’s laughing.”

“I bet he is,” she mumbled. “Ya know what? You keep him. He’s all yours.” But she smiled in spite of herself as she dropped her hands.

Hey, man. While we’re on topic…

Without him saying the words, Xavier knew what was coming.
Rhys, don’t—

There’s no way you are fucking dropping the band. You can cut that shit right now. Ain’t
gonna happen.

There was no room for argument in Rhys’ tone, but Xavier didn’t know how he could possibly agree.

He forgot Rhys could hear his thoughts.

Get over it,
Rhys said,
and then call Gavin. He’ll help.

He’s got his own gig. You think he’s walking away from Persevere to join us?

No. Not as a replacement. The guy’s got connections. He’ll hook you up with some talent.

Rhys—

Don’t even think of going there. Just do it. Tonight. I want this settled. You
will
record
Scripted Lives.
Got it?

And just how do you deny the ghost of your brother?

You fucking don’t,
Rhys barked out.

Xavier shook his head.
Fine. I’ll call him.

All right then. Now…you have to scram. My girl is looking tired.

Your girl?

Yeah. And she needs to get some sleep. There’s a little payback I need to attend to.
He issued what could only be described as a devious chuckle.

Do I even want to know?

Actually, you probably would. But I’m not talking.

Xavier knew it had to be sexual.
Since when don’t you kiss and tell?

His response was dead serious.
Since her.

Xavier stood, startling Addison to her feet.

“What’s going on? Where’re you going?” Her budding panic was clear.

He put his hands on her shoulders.

“I’m leaving, but Rhys is staying.” His brow lifted. “Um, Rhys? How do you—” His words cut off as a shot of warmth traveled down his arm toward the contact he held with Addison.

She jolted out from under his hands and grabbed the chair behind her before she fell down into it. “Rhys?”

Xavier couldn’t hear his response, but her smile said enough.

“I got him,” she confirmed, lowering her lids.

Xavier watched as she just stood there with her eyes closed. He had the distinct impression something more was happening than he could see. “What are you doing?”

“Giving Rhys a hug,” she murmured.

He looks at her slack arms by her side. “You know you’re not actually moving, right?”

“I know. It’s all done mentally.”

The realization hit. “You can…
feel
him?”

“Yeah, I can.”

“And he can he feel you?”

She nodded as she finally opened her eyes.

Whoa. Kinky.

“Look, I’m gonna take off. I’ll catch ya tomorrow.” Xavier chuckled as he walked to the door. “Have a nice…ah, night.”

Throughout the rest of the evening, Rhys whispered threats of payback in Addison’s head; seductive promises that filled her mind with explicit images and twisted her gut with lust. She had conflicted feelings about holding back, but knew the longer she did, the greater the reward.

For them both.

It quickly became a game of wills after that.

To prolong the anticipation of what she knew was inevitable, Addison fought sleep for as long as possible. Every time she lost her tenacious hold on consciousness and her lids dropped, she’d feel his hot hands molding to her skin. The sensation would snap her awake, and they’d start their alluring little dance again; he’d whisper, she’d resist…driving them higher, tipping the balance between desire and need.

Her eyes finally slipped closed again and she felt…nothing. No hands, no press of his rippled body, no heat from his hunger. But Rhys’ was there, his deep voice sounding in her head, encouraging her to let go and sleep.

She sank further into the void, knowing she was losing her side of the war, but not caring one little bit. It wasn’t until she was nearly asleep, completely relaxed, and unavoidably open to him that he struck. The attack, however, was meticulously thought out and strategized. And all the more lethal for it.

He eased himself into her mind slowly so he didn’t jar her awake. He held her in her dreamless state, the sensations of his primal cravings chaining her under. With his delicious promises of fulfillment, he drew on her urges and pinned them out to bear, bringing her to the brink without so much as a touch.

It was then she felt the first contact; calloused fingertips whispering across her abdomen and up her ribs. Arching into his touch, her breath caught and held with expectancy. But he countered her movement with one of his own, refusing to deliver as he snaked his hand back.

Addison groaned in frustration when she suddenly felt a moist heat latch onto the tender skin at the base of her neck. Leaning her head to the side, she gave him better access. Gentle nips followed by the scrap of his teeth had her reaching for him.

Where was he?

Her wrists were captured by a strong grip and held to the side as the assault on her neck continued. She squirmed where she lay, eager for so much more now that it had begun. His responding low chuckle told her volumes; he was well aware of her predicament, and was going to exploit it in every way he could.

With a quick tug, Addison’s arms were yanked above her head. Rhys’ hard, contoured body pushed against her side. His palms slid up her ribs to rest at the base of her breast, fingers curling around. He descended on her painfully tight nipple, a quick squeeze and a little pump preparing her for the wet heat of his mouth, the soft rasp of his teeth.

He stroked her skin, warming the blood beneath until it reached a combustible heat. And then his greedy tongue ignited it, a flash fire through her body powering her into a mindless frenzy as it slicked across the hardened peak of her breast.

His hands roamed, tugged, twisted and teased. All the sensations were sharp and ruthless, but happened in such rapid succession it was impossible to know what she felt where.

No…she felt Rhys. Everywhere.

This was what she needed. This was what she craved. It was just as intense as their last time together, and yet, it was so much more.

It took her a passion-ladened minute to realize the difference; there were no images this time, only sensation. It made it more intimate—more emotional—to only feel. As if they were two long-time lovers rediscovering each other in the darkness and familiarity of their own bedroom. This felt right. As if it was meant to be, and had always been.

Rhys finally rolled into the cradle of her thighs and she shifted to draw him near. She felt his hard length press against her, gasped as he nudged inside, and cried out as he plunged into her wet warmth.

He thrust. She surged. And they found a pounding tempo to please them both, a rhythm that possessed until there was nothing but the climb of sensation.

Wrapping herself around his tight body, she could hear Rhys heavy pants in her ear—or were those hers?—as they strained towards release. They were two hearts, two souls entwining, inextricable. Linked. Bonded. Connected.

As one.

The orgasm roared in her head from their combined release, pulses slamming and bodies seizing. And when the quivering ceased and her blood finally slowed, the ensuing silence was so consuming, she half-thought she’d gone deaf from the experience.

Holy shit.
Rhys’ hoarse voice was barely discernable.

“Holy? That was downright spiritual.” She puffed out a weak laugh. “No pun intended.” Rhys moaned as he rolled his weight off her slender frame.
Come here, baby,
he murmured, gathering her in his strong arms.