His lips fall to mine for a brief, tender moment, then he dips his head and begins placing kisses along my jaw and down the side of my neck.
“What’s your safe word?” he asks.
“Oscar.”
His kisses drift further down, over my breasts and along my stomach. It’s pleasure, but the slow, drawn out tenderness is a torture in itself. The bed shifts when he moves to between my legs and begins kissing the insides of my thighs, until he finds his way to my center. His tongue makes contact and I gasp. My hips rise, my body shudders, but he holds me down and forces the pleasure on me. He licks and nips, teasing me until I feel close to breaking already. But then a sharp pain makes me cry out. It takes me a moment to realize it’s his teeth. He’s biting me. Biting me in that place.
“Gavin,” I whimper.
“Breathe, baby,” he says against my skin.
His tongue finds me again, followed by the dig of his teeth so hard that tears flood my eyes and spill down my cheeks. It goes on and on, an ebb and flow of pain and pleasure, to such slow extremes it threatens to tear me apart. He feasts on me while he draws out my cries, savoring them like a fine wine, until…
“Oscar.” I sob the word, not wanting to give up, but unable to continue.
But when I see the look in his eyes, the victory his, I know I’ve given him what he wants.
He rises up between my legs and sheaths himself. There’s no need to fight this time. We’ve already waged our battle. We both have the wounds to prove it.
Slowly, he enters me. I’m so wet, he meets no resistance except for the raw tightness of my body. A whimper catches in my throat.
“Don’t keep your pain from me,” he says in my ear, pressing deep inside me.
I arch beneath him and cry out, clinging to his shoulders.
He begins to move over me with slow, controlled strokes that fill my body with the most exquisite pain, the most overwhelming pleasure. The time before had been brutal, savage, nothing but a feral conquest deep among the shadows, where he had pushed me to the edge for the thrill of watching me break. But now—now it’s flesh on flesh, soul on soul.
He shifts his hips again, and there it is, like a spark of light, filling my body and blinding my soul. He comes with me, silent but for a small deep throated groan that barely leaves his lips.
Gavin lets his weight fall onto his elbows and takes my head in his hands. My skin feels slippery when he swipes his thumbs across my cheeks. “So beautiful,” he whispers. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
My body tingles from the words, but it’s my heart that feels the true impact. I reach up and stroke the line of his jaw, but he turns his head and nips at my fingers, causing me to giggle. Slowly, he withdraws from inside me, rises and walks to the bathroom. A moment later he’s back, the condom gone and a washcloth in his hands. He tends to me gently, cleaning me up, the warm cotton a soothing contrast to the raw and aching flesh between my legs.
I see something drip from his arm and realize the deep gash started to bleed again.
“Gavin,” I say. He looks down at his arm, then we both look at the bed. Even through the dim light, we can see the streaks of red marring the light grey sheets. And it isn’t just his blood. It’s mine too.
A giggle breaks from my throat. I can’t help it.
“I made her bleed, and she laughs,” he says with a shake of his head. There’s amusement in his tone, but heaviness in his eyes. Heaviness mixed with adoration. With a sigh, Gavin dabs at the cut on his arm with the towel, then tosses it aside and climbs back into bed, pulling me close to him. He settles on his back and nestles me up against his side, with his arm around me.
I glance up at him, resting my chin on his chest, wanting to take in every little detail I can, cherish every little moment we have. His expression seems peaceful, relaxed, but his gaze rests somewhere off in space. I press a kiss to his chest, then glide the tip of my nose over him, until my head is tucked into his arm pit where I breathe in deep.
“What are you doing, silly girl?” he asks with a chuckle.
I smile and rub my cheek against his underarm hair. It’s so soft and wispy. “Smelling you.”
He laughs. “Yeah? And how do I smell?”
“So good,” I say, and mean it.
He leans down and places a kiss on my hair, warming me inside. I rest my head over his chest and listen to the heavy beat of his heart. We lie there, basking in the aftermath while time passes. He’s quiet and I think maybe he’s drifting off, but then his thumb begins caressing my skin. I think of the night, of everything we’ve been through, the awkward way our worlds collided.
“Gavin?” I whisper.
“Hmmm?”
I pause. “What was the award you were getting tonight?”
He takes in a breath and lets it out slowly. “The Outstanding Performer of the Year award,” he says. “It’s given at the Santa Barbara International Film Festival.”
I groan. “God, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I was never going to make it in time, even before our paths crossed.”
“You were at your mom’s?” I ask gently. “She’s sick?”
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t offer what from, so I don’t ask.
“My father was sick too.”
“Is he okay now?”
I shake my head. “He’s gone.”
Gavin places a long, gentle kiss on my hair. “I’m so sorry, Ava. When did he pass?”
“A few days ago.”
His hand freezes. He shifts his weight onto his elbow and stares down at me. His face is cloaked in shadow, but I can still see the shock in his eyes. “A few days ago?”
I nod. “It’s okay. He’s better off now.”
A pensive look washes over his features, then he settles his head onto his propped up hand, while the other hand rests on my stomach. “What about your mom?”
“She left when I was nine.”
Gavin sighs, sounding frustrated, then studies me for a moment. “So, it was just you and your dad?”
I nod and can’t help but smile.
“What?” he asks.
I shake my head and seal my lips.
“What?” he asks again, nudging me playfully in the ribs, making me giggle.
“He loved your movies,” I say finally.
“He did?”
I nod. “Really loved them. He said you knew how to kick ass.”
Gavin laughs, warm and soft. It’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. “Well, that makes it all worth it then.”
His gaze drifts to my stomach, where his fingertips slowly graze over and around my belly button.
“How’d you get into acting?” I ask.
His touch moves up my stomach and over my right breast, his forefinger circling my nipple. “A good friend introduced me to a scout. I was doing the professional MMA circuit at the time. I guess they were looking for someone with a fighting background.”
“And you got it? Just like that?”
“No,” he answers. “Had to go through six auditions. But in the end, I guess they liked me. And I liked it, too. It gave me something fighting never could.”
“What do you mean?”
His touch runs across the top of my nipple, making me gasp. “It allowed me to be someone else,” he says, a faraway distance in his voice. “Anyone else, but me.”
“But…why would you want that?”
His lashes rise and fall in slow motion, dark fans that frame his eyes—eyes that appear to drift further and further away. I’m about to take the question back, when he says, “I killed my father.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I watch through tears as Gavin keeps staring at my breast that he continues to fondle absently. “I was fifteen,” he continues. “And he was…a mess. Awful temper, abusive childhood, alcoholic, you name it. He wasn’t all bad, though. Had a decent side, too. It came out mostly when we were working cattle together, or he was teaching me how to mend a fence, or doing things around the ranch. I think it made him feel useful, proud, you know, working his land with his son. But when something set him off, fuck…he was…uncontrollable. He was a big man too. And so damn strong.” He pauses for a moment, blinking slowly. “He took his anger out on me and my mom for years, until finally, one day, I snapped. It was a perfect storm, more or less, and I knew before it happened, that it wasn’t going to end well. I didn’t mean to kill him. I just…just wanted to stop him, is all.”
“Oh, Gavin.” I reach up and run my fingers along his temple.
“It’s odd, really. I think in some ways, he was waiting for me to be old enough and strong enough to fight back. When he died, he had this peaceful look on his face, like he was finally free or something.”
I watch Gavin’s face morph into that of a confused little boy, struggling to sort through and make sense of a tortured past. He looks down at the inside of his left wrist, at the tattoo marks I saw earlier. “That’s when I got the first one of these,” he says. “Each mark is a time I’ve lost control.” He takes in a breath and sighs. “I don’t know how to explain it, Ava. It’s like there’s this demon inside me—this blind rage—and when it gets loose, it just takes control of me. Over the years, I’ve learned to contain it, to feed it things, dark things, things that seem to keep it at bay, but there are times when it gets away from me. And when it does, there’s nothing I can do about it. God help anyone who’s near me when it happens.”
Then I remember what he said to me.
You test my control, Ava.
“Is that what you were trying to protect me from? Your demon?”
I thread my fingers into his hair and he turns to me, his eyes somber. “It hasn’t been just men I’ve lost it on.”
He waits, like he’s expecting judgment. And while I can’t help but wonder what he’s done, I take his hand and press my lips to his tattoo, letting him know it doesn’t change anything. Doesn’t change anything at all.
He blinks and swallows hard, then turns away, but I press my hand to his cheek and bring him back to me. There’s so much sadness in his face, so much pain.
“I haven’t talked about this, to anyone,” he says.
He stares at me for a moment, looking deep into my eyes, then he’s suddenly on top of me, straddling me, his hands pinning my arms above my head, his eyes filled with a darkness that mirrors his past. “Tell me,” he demands. “Tell me what you were doing tonight in that dress. Why were you headed out so far from home by yourself?”
A lump forms in my throat, followed by a yearning to tell him everything, especially after all he’s revealed to me, but I can’t. I just can’t. One question will certainly follow another. Nothing good can come from it. But I can give him something. I can give him an honest answer.
“The truth?” I ask.
He nods, jaw tense, as though bracing for something he’s not going to want to hear.
“I was searching…for you.”
Confusion builds in his eyes as they narrow, trying to determine if I’m lying or not.
“It’s the truth, Gavin. I know it’s hard to make sense of, but I swear it.”
His jaw tightens, but by the look on his face, he knows I’m not lying. “That’s all I’m going to get out of you, isn’t it?”
I nod.
He growls and flips me onto my stomach. I hear the drawer yank open, followed by the tear of a plastic wrapper. A second later, he jerks me onto my hands and knees, and then enters me with a violent lunge. I shriek, the angle so much different, so much deeper.
“You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” His voice is a razors edge, slicing through me while he thrusts into me again. “One night with you! One night and I’m telling you my deepest, darkest secrets…and still, you evade me.”
He takes me roughly, with such force my cries shatter the room. If it was a game before, it isn’t a game now. This is real. This is punishment. I give to the demon, accepting my penance while the tears bleed out. The word Oscar flitters through my mind, but I stow it away. I won’t take this from him. I won’t take what’s rightfully his.
Despite the pain, a surge of pleasure begins to build within my core. My cries turn to moans, my whimpers to gasps.
“I should deny you,” he growls, with a hard thrust, “as you have denied me.” I cry out, as much from the pain he inflicts, as the hurt I can hear in his voice. “But I won’t.” He leans in close and wraps an arm around me, his fingers finding my flesh. “Because to deny you in this, would be to deny me.”
I clamp my eyes shut, the pleasure he grants as much an agony as the cruelty he wields, because I don’t deserve it. It only takes a few swipes of his fingers, and a few vicious thrusts, and we both come.
Then…quiet.
Gavin rests over me, panting, his body heating mine like a blanket of flames. He takes me gently by the hair and turns my head so he can see my face. “I’m not sorry.”
I close my eyes. “Good.”
He sighs and leans his head against mine, then withdraws, leaving me empty and adrift. My body stings, but it’s nothing compared to the pain inside. I lie there, watching him while he sits on the edge of the bed and cleans himself up with the towel. When he’s done, he just sits there for a moment, head hanging low. I wonder if he’ll send me away, back to my room, but instead, he takes in a breath and lies down, then nestles me against his chest and pulls the covers up. When he presses a kiss to my hair, I am empty no longer.
“When do you have to leave?” he asks. There’s no more anger in his tone, only resignation.
“Soon,” I say, my voice cracking.
Please don’t ask why.
Please don’t ask to where.
In the quiet that follows I can feel the conflict coming through in his breath, in the way his thumb absently strokes my skin. He has questions, I can feel it, but he doesn’t ask, doesn’t press.
We both know what this is.
One night.
That’s all we signed on for.
That’s all it can be.
He doesn’t have room for anything else, and I don’t have the option of anything else.
“Do you need me to set an alarm?” he asks, his voice soft but with an unmistakable quaver.
“No,” I reply, barely able to say the word for the lump in my throat. I know I won’t be able to sleep tonight. There’s too much in my heart, too much on my mind. I’m in a world I don’t want to leave, because I know it’ll be over so much quicker, and the life I have waiting for me is one I’m in no hurry to get back to.
His arms tighten around me. “This feels like a dream,” he murmurs, drowsiness roughening his voice.
“Maybe it is.” A dream I never want to leave.
Gavin takes in a breath and whispers my name as he exhales. By the weight of his tone, I know he isn’t just saying my name, he’s saying goodbye.
I feel the ache so far inside me I think I’ll break in two. He places one final kiss on my hair, then after a few moments, the weight of his arm around me settles and his breathing slows. He’s drifting into sleep.
Time wanders, my thoughts on Gavin, on my father, on Shayne, on the life I lived tonight, and the life I’ll be living after.
I’ve stolen time. Stolen a night with a man who in turn stole my heart. Gavin said I brought light to an otherwise dark place, but so has he. He will be my lifeline. He will be the light I cling to when things get dark. I want so badly to wake him and tell him just how much he means to me, how much this night has meant to me, but it will only make things more difficult.
Eventually, the clock strikes five.
The sands have run out.