Her scent envelops me. Every breath I take sucks it into my lungs and warms me with contentment. I could lie here all day, just breathing her in and relishing her warm skin pressed against me.
But I can’t.
I crack my eyes open and muted light from the windows hits my eyes. With a groan, I move my face away from Skye’s neck and glance at the clock. 6:15 a.m. Rain pings against the window and the howl of the wind outside warns of the impending threat.
Last night was…
Jesus, I don’t even have a word for it.
Sex has always been a means to an end—a way to relieve my stress and quiet some of the voices in my head. But that wasn’t sex. At least, it wasn’t the kind of sex I have. That wasn’t fucking. That was something completely otherworldly, and the fact I can never have it again causes bile to rise up my throat and my chest to constrict so tightly, I can barely breathe.
The fact I didn’t have a nightmare last night does not go unnoticed, but I can’t lie here and consider why. Why doesn’t matter anymore. After what happened with my father, I was fairly confident more restless, haunted nights were in my future, so sleeping soundly is almost as shocking to me as what he did. Although, knowing what I have to do now may have played a role in my uninhibited sleep. Maybe finally making the decision was all I needed.
I try to extricate myself from Skye without waking her, but we’re too tangled together, and when I unwrap my arm from around her chest, she stirs, shifting against me and moaning softly.
Shit.
She’s not going to make this easy for me.
Her head turns toward me, and she studies me over her shoulder—her eyes still slightly glazed and lids heavy with sleep.
“Hey.”
Fuck.
That gravelly, sexy morning voice goes straight to my cock.
Down boy.
Morning sex is not an option. Having sex with her ever again is not a possibility.
It’s better to end things now than to let them get further complicated by burying myself inside her one more time.
I force a small smile. “Good morning.”
She rolls over until she’s facing me and slides her hand under my bicep so she can wrap her arm around my rib cage. My skin is still sensitive and tight there, but it doesn’t hurt. I almost wish it would.
Her breasts push against my chest, and my morning wood is wedged into her belly.
This is not fucking helping.
Nails lightly graze the skin on my back across my spine. I relax into her touch, closing my eyes, and relishing the caress. My mind clears. This is the most at peace I’ve felt in a long fucking time, but it’s only because my mind is made up. There will be no more worrying about what our actions mean for all the relationships involved. No more lying to my best friend. No more avoiding him at all costs.
Her lips press against my pec, just above my nipple piercing and a shudder rolls through my body. She traces her tongue along my skin, slowly making her way closer to that little piece of metal.
Fuck…that feels good.
Too good.
If I let her get my nipple into her mouth, there’s no hope of this ending any other way than with me fucking her brains out again.
Gathering every ounce of will-power I possess, I pull back from her, putting much-needed space between our bodies so I can clear my head and think with the right one.
But shifting away from her does nothing to ease the pain in my chest. I prop myself up on my elbow and study her.
She stares at me with hunger and confusion in her eyes, and my mind flashes back to the last time she looked at me like this—the wedding. God, she was so beautiful in her bridesmaid’s dress. The way the jet black curls of her hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders had reminded me of ocean waves during a hurricane. She was absolutely stunning that night—flawless.
How had I ever been so fucking blind? How could I not have known how much I watched her before?
It took her looking at me like this and forcing me to kiss her to bring any hint at self-realization forward. But it took what happened last night for me to comprehend how deep my feelings for her truly are.
Maybe in a parallel universe, one where the accident never occurred, things could be different. But we’re here, and they aren’t.
The words are lodged like boulders in my throat. I close my eyes, breaking the spell she has cast on me; it’s the only way I’ll ever get them out.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
Her warm palm flattens against my chest. “I need to tell you something, too.”
He’s calm this morning.
Resolved.
It’s readily apparent in his eyes. The way he’s marking me with his gaze tells me everything I need to know. He feels the same way. How could he not after what we did last night? No man makes love to a woman like that unless he actually loves her.
His eyes close.
I wasn’t going to tell him, but seeing him this morning, it just feels like the right time. Maybe what happened with his father finally made him realize he needs to hold onto something as amazing as what we have.
He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.
It’s so adorable that’s he’s nervous about telling me he loves me.
“We can’t see each other again.”
“I love you.”
We speak at the same time.
When his words register, I freeze. I must have misunderstood what he said, because there’s no fucking way he just dumped me.
“Wait…what?”
With a groan, he pushes off the bed until he’s sitting and then moves to the edge. His feet hit the floor with a thump, and he rests his elbows on his knees, dropping his head into his hands.
“I’m sorry, Skye. I just…can’t do this anymore. It’s not fair to you, or me.”
What the ever-loving fuck is he talking about?
I slide up onto my knees behind him. “You’re joking, right?”
His hands move back through his hair, and he heaves out a sigh. “No, Skye, I’m being serious. We have to stop this.”
“You’re really doing this, after last night…I’m just…”
Speechless.
And I am never out of words. No one has ever accused me of biting my tongue or having a filter, but Gabe has literally sucked away my ability to speak.
The mattress creaks as he stands and turns to face me. His semi-hard dick hangs between his muscular thighs, directly in my line of sight, and I wish I could appreciate its beauty. But right now, the only thing I want to do is go all Lorena Bobbitt on him.
He’s lucky there are no knives within reach.
“Skye, you know this is for the best.”
The fuck it is!
I fly off the bed and am in his face in an instant. “The best for whom? You? Me? Fucking Savage?”
“It’s not—”
“Oh, fuck you, Gabe. You are so worried about pissing off my brother, you’re willing to throw away what you really want. And don’t try to tell me you don’t want me…want this.” I take the last step separating us and press my hands against his chest. His heart beats wildly, and his cock hardens all the way, digging into my belly.
Instead of wrapping his arms around me and capturing my mouth in a savage kiss like I expect, he shakes his head and takes a step back. Then another. And another.
“No, Skye. I don’t want this…”
There it is. That resolve is back. His usually warm eyes are cold and haunted, and it’s clear there’s no room for debate.
“…and if you really think about it, you will realize you don’t want it either.”
Unfucking likely.
I can’t look at him anymore. I can’t look in his eyes knowing he’s lying to me, and to himself.
So, I turn my back on him and begin to search for my clothes. Either he’s full of shit or everything up to this moment has been one giant mind-fuck.
I know what last night was and so does he.
His eyes follow me around the room. My underwear peeks out from under the bed, and I snatch them up and jerk them on with my back to Gabe.
Cocksucking motherfucking prick!
The rest of my clothes are scattered around the room, and I manage to keep from facing him as I dress. If I look at him now, I’ll either break down and cry or grab that gun he keeps behind the headboard and do something rash.
“Skye…”
I slip my shirt on and pull my hair back into a ponytail with the hair tie I always keep in my pants pocket. Several deep breaths later, I turn to face him.
He doesn’t even have the decency to look contrite. Instead, he stands buck naked, stock-still, and with zero emotion in his handsome features. His cock has gone down, but it does nothing to change how fucking beautiful he is.
When my eyes meet his, he firms his lips into a thin line and nods. “You know I’m right. You should be with someone who can give you everything. Like that guy, the one from the picture you sent me.”
Lucas?
I roll my eyes and round the bed on my way to the door. My arm brushes his as I push past him. He doesn’t reach out to try to stop me, but he follows me out to the living room where I search for my purse. “Lucas is out of the picture. He’s a little overly obsessed. I ended it.”
“What do you mean, obsessed? Do you need me to talk to him?”
Wheeling on him, I shoot my best death glare his way. “You can’t be fucking serious.” True concern mars his face. “You’re a fucking selfish prick, you know that? I don’t want anything from you anymore, least of all your concern or involvement in my life.”
“I’m not selfish, Skye. It’s the opposite. I’m choosing your ultimate happiness here. You’ll thank me later.”
“Ha! Whatever, Gabe. You’re just a chicken shit. You would think someone who has killed so many people would have bigger balls.”
He recoils as if I slapped him, but I can’t feel bad about what I said. I need to stay mad so I don’t fall apart.
I grab my purse off the chair next to the sofa and storm out the door, not giving two fucks if Savage or anyone else sees me leaving Gabe’s place this early in the morning.
It doesn’t matter anymore anyway.
By the time the elevator doors slide open, the tears are coming so fast, there’s nothing I can do to stop them.