Crashed (Entangled Indulgence) (9 page)

Chapter Twelve

Deacon woke with a start, hand automatically going to the other side of the bed, seeking Alex. The sheets were cold…the bed empty.

His stomach dropped, disappointment slamming into him from all sides.

She’d fucking run, again.

He’d thought things had changed between them last night. When they got back to his apartment, it’d been a repeat of the club—he’d taken her hard on the kitchen counter. The sound of her cries as she’d broken apart beneath him still echoed in his head, made him hard even now. He’d been mindless, so desperate for her that his hands had been shaking. This last week had driven him near insane with wanting her so badly.

Alex hadn’t protested, not once. No, she’d egged him on, just as wild for him. There’d been a softness in her eyes when he’d carried her to bed that hadn’t been there before. She hadn’t tensed when he’d wrapped her in his arms, she’d snuggled closer. He’d thought his little viper was finally dropping her guard, finally letting him in.

He rubbed his hands over his face. She’d run the first chance she got. And that fucking stung. But it was his own damn fault.
Idiot.

He’d meant to bring her back to his apartment at the end of the night, spend his time worshipping her body, making slow, sweet love to her like she deserved. Instead he’d let jealousy and mistrust skew his judgment, his actions. He’d found the owner of the club, a guy he knew through a business colleague, borrowed his keys, then dragged Alex off the dance floor and fucked her against the door. Fucked her the way he’d been desperate to for years now. And she’d taken it, all of it, the full force of his need—and met it with her own.

He’d pushed too hard, too fast. Fuck, he’d ruined everything.

Shoving back the sheets, he yanked on a pair of jeans and strode to the living room. When would she stop running from him? The way she’d wrapped around him last night, he’d thought…

He stopped in his tracks, sucked in a breath. There, sitting on the small balcony off his living room was Alex.
She hasn’t run. She hasn’t left me.

Wearing his black button-down, sleeves rolled up, legs bare and propped on the railing, she looked relaxed and tempting as hell. Lifting a mug to her lips, she took a sip.

He strode across the floor, trying to control his racing pulse, trying to appear calm and collected when he was anything but. He stepped through the door and joined her outside. “Any of that left for me?”

She tilted her head back and smiled at him, causing all the oxygen to leave his lungs in a rush. “Nope, sorry.”

She handed him her mug, and he accepted it, taking a sip before placing it on the small table beside them. “You’re up early. Trouble sleeping?”

“Drinking does that to me.” There was that smile again, and he couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. She kissed him back, like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he’d been giving her morning kisses their whole lives. He wanted that more than anything. “I didn’t want to wake you, so I thought I’d check out the view.”

“What do you think?”

“Not too shabby.”

He took the seat beside her. “Come here, Alex.” She didn’t hesitate, just hopped up and climbed in his lap, curling against him. He threaded his fingers through her hair. “I’m glad you stayed.”

“Yeah?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” Tilting her head back, he kissed her again, slow and easy. She slid her arms around his neck, giving herself over to him, no resistance, and for once, no smart comments. Finally, he pulled back, giving her one final nip. His cock was hard as iron, but he wasn’t in a hurry to do anything about it, not yet. He wanted her where she was, wanted this quiet, intimate moment to last as long as she’d allow it. “You hungry?”

“Not yet.”

All the things he wanted to say swam through his mind, were on the tip of his tongue, but he kept them to himself. She wasn’t ready to hear them, not yet, despite the fact she was currently in his lap, wearing his shirt, in his apartment, without being forced to.

He had to keep things light—she was still so skittish, and if she thought he wanted more, he had no doubt she’d be out of here in a shot. “You wanna hang out today? Maybe catch a movie later?”

He felt her nod against his chest. “Sure.”

His heart hammered behind his ribs. This was it, the breakthrough he’d been hoping for, and he sure as hell refused to waste a second of it. “First, though”—he pulled her ass down tight against his erection—“we’re going back to bed.”

Deacon shoved his hands in his pockets and looked out over the city. He should have stayed home. He wasn’t getting any work done, not when all he could think about was Alex. She’d stayed with him Friday and Saturday night. They’d spent all of Saturday watching old DVDs, eating junk food, and fucking like rabbits. He hadn’t been able to get enough of her.

He wanted her still.

The only reason he was at the office and not holed up in his apartment with her, was that Alex had to go to work, some urgent job Rusty had called her in for. A protest had been on the tip of his tongue when she told him she had to leave. But he knew her well enough to know that wouldn’t fly.

He tried not to come in to work on the weekends, especially on Sunday. But the apartment had felt empty after she’d left. A damn mausoleum, like she said the first time she’d seen it. And there was plenty for him to do here. He had to go away for a few days, had meetings to prepare for, but he’d accomplished nothing, had been as good as useless all day.

“Screw this.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and headed for the door.

The elevator dinged as he shut the door behind him, and his ex-wife walked out. Her watery blue gaze lifted and caught on his immediately.

Jesus.

Tammy had obviously had fun spreading her poison. Thank God he was in the office alone. He did not need an audience for this.

“Deacon.” A shaky smile covered her face, and he had to fight not to outright growl with the rage he was suddenly feeling.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“You weren’t at your apartment. I tried here next and saw your car.” She took another step toward him. “Can we talk?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, not after your friend’s performance the other night.”

She had the decency to blush, but then her lips twisted and her attempt at hiding her true colors became too much for his deceitful, manipulative ex. “What do you expect when you start parading that woman around town? It’s humiliating. We haven’t even been divorced long.”

“Nearly two years. Long enough to—”

“What if people think you left me for that trash?”

“I would watch what you say about Alex in front of me.”

“Oh, really?”

Scrubbing his hands over his face, he struggled for patience. Emily had been fragile for years, undergoing regular counseling sessions. She’d been going since before they separated, sessions he was still paying for. But it was time for her to face the reality of their relationship—the fact that there wasn’t one anymore, and if he had his way, there never would be, of any kind, beyond a polite nod across a crowded room. “What do you want, Emily?”

“I want you to stop seeing her, stop taking her out like she’s more than a distraction, more than just a rebound.” She looked a little desperate, her eyes almost pleading with him not to say what he was about to.

“She’s none of those things. I care about Alex very much.” He watched his ex-wife carefully, looking for signs she might fall apart. “Where’s Steven? Does he know you’re here?”

She looked away. He knew she hated when he mentioned the poor bastard saddled with her now. Steven had once been a friend, an associate, until Deacon came home and found his wife screwing him in their bed. He hadn’t even blamed her for it. He didn’t love her, and her lies had made sure he never could. But the worst part was he’d been relieved that he’d finally had a way out, stupidly thinking he could hand his troubled wife off to the next idiot. But he’d been wrong. Emily still came to him during those tenuous times, needing his reassurance. He couldn’t do it anymore. It was time Stevie boy manned the hell up.

“He’s playing golf,” she whispered, bottom lip quivering. She blinked and a tear slid down her cheek. “You never loved me, did you? It’s always been her. That filthy little nobody. Did you want her the whole time we were together?”

“No.” But Alex had always been there. Hell, she’d carved a space in his heart the moment he’d met her. A scared, lonely little kid. Of course, he’d tried to make a go of things with Emily at the beginning, thinking if he worked at it hard enough, he could make a life with her. But the truth of it was, if Emily hadn’t lied to him, he and Alex wouldn’t have wasted so many years. He wouldn’t have been forced to bribe the woman he loved into spending time with him. That was a truth his ex-wife wasn’t ready to hear.

He’d let Alex go, for Emily. He’d put everything into making his marriage work in those first few months…until he’d discovered Emily had lied to him, had fooled him, had used the pain he carried from his own parents’ separation against him, to get what she wanted.

She wiped a tear from her cheek. “How can you be so cruel to me?”

Of course he had to be doing this to hurt her. It would never occur to her that his relationship with Alex had sweet fuck all to do with her. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You lied to me, Emily, cheated…”

“It was a mistake…I never wanted—”

“You told me you were carrying my child. How did you expect me to react when I found out you’d lied through your teeth, playing on my insecurities to get what you wanted? It wasn’t some harmless white lie. Jesus.” They’d gone over this so many damned times, and she still didn’t get it. He was sick of living in the past, but his ex had him over an emotional barrel, bound by her secrets and lies and unable to tell a single person about any of it for fear of what she might do.

After he discovered she’d never been pregnant, he’d found sleeping pills that she’d hidden, a lot of them. She’d threatened to kill herself if he ever left—or if he told anyone what she’d done to keep him. She’d been extremely volatile, breakable, totally messed up. He’d had no choice but to stay, to get her help, to keep her secret, a secret he still kept now out of fear.

She moved in close and placed her hand on his chest. “Please, Deacon. I can’t bear this… Anyone but her.” She gripped his jacket and clung to him. “I still love you. We were good together…we could try again…”

“No.” He gripped her hands and loosened her hold, dropping them to her sides. “I care about you, Emily. I don’t want to see you hurt. But we were never good together. Our entire marriage was based on a lie.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and she screamed. He wasn’t fast enough. Didn’t grab her wrists to stop her from lashing out. Fingernails clawing at his chest, she tore open several buttons on his shirt, doing damage to his skin. He was used to this, used to her rages, her mood swings. If Emily didn’t get her way, all pretense of sweet and wounded flew out the window. She clung to him, screaming and crying until he tore her off and held her immobile. “Stop this. Now,” he barked at her.

She yanked her hands free, face flushed with anger. Lifting a shaky hand, she straightened her hair. “You’re making a mistake.”

Before he could reply, she spun on a heel and stormed toward the elevator.

He shoved a hand through his hair and watched her get in, making sure she left. For some reason she still had this warped idea about him, about their relationship. And despite what she’d just said, she didn’t love him.

In the beginning, when they’d first met in college, yeah, he’d cared for her, a lot, but in the end he’d seen her true colors. At times she could be incredibly cruel and selfish, and because of that his feelings toward her had changed.

He’d broken it off and felt nothing but relief.

Then he’d gone home, and in the space of a year Alex had blossomed. He hadn’t been blind; she’d always been attractive and it wasn’t a surprise she was a knockout, but there’d been something else, a boost in confidence, a peacefulness that hadn’t been there before. Leaving the foster system had changed the once scared, insecure girl. Yeah, those things had still been there, but a weight had been lifted from her narrow shoulders, and it had shone through, lighting her up like a ray of sunshine.

When she’d walked into the kitchen late one night, wearing of all things, one of his old T-shirts, he’d felt blindsided. He’d realized he wanted her, wanted a taste of her so badly he would have happily gotten down on his knees and begged.

But she’d come to him without reservation. She’d let him kiss her. God, that kiss. Her heart had been hammering faster than his. The sweet, inexperienced way she’d kissed him back had turned him inside out. He hadn’t planned on taking her virginity that night. Sex wasn’t what he’d intended when he led her to his room. He’d just wanted her in his bed for a few hours, wanted to make out some more, talk to her. It’d been months since he’d really talked to her, he’d been so busy with school, and Emily.

But then they’d kissed some more, and Alex had shimmied out of his shirt and wrapped her legs around his hips. In that moment he’d been gone, completely lost to her.

And then, then she’d whispered, “Please.”

The longing in that one word, the need, it had lit him up like a lightbulb switching on. He’d known in that moment Alex was it for him.

The memory was so vivid it could have happened yesterday. The way she’d trembled in his arms, her soft cry as he’d pushed inside her for the first time, the way she’d begged him not to stop when he’d tried to pull away, worried that he’d hurt her. The single tear that had slid down her cheek after she’d come apart beneath him.

He couldn’t mess this up, not again. And he sure as hell couldn’t let Emily stand in his way anymore. Steve needed to take control of the situation. It was time to cut the ties and move on; they’d been stuck in this destructive cycle long enough.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was go away for two days. Now that he had Alex where he wanted her again, he could barely handle a few hours away from her. He cursed when he looked down and took in the condition of his shirt. Makeup stained the front and collar.