Perfect Chaos(13)

“Yeah, well, I like not good ideas. Let’s go fuck, Lionel.” A shiver went through me at my words. Screw it. I was letting go of him—of Deck.

Lionel shrugged then looped his arm around my waist and ushered me outside and into a cab. Before Matt had a chance to do anything, we pulled away from the curb.

The cab ride was more kissing with his hand up my skirt. I suspected the cab driver was getting a real nice show of my black lace panties in the rear view mirror.

When the cab stopped, Lionel threw him some cash then helped me out. He picked me up in his arms, swaying to the side a bit, and I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. Our lips locked and I heard him groan.

He was drunk, wanted me and we were at his place—perfect.

My heart pounded as I heard the sound of his key, then the door opening and slamming behind us. I did a quick glance around, taking in everything then mentally taking notes. Before he noticed, I whispered in his ear. “Ruin me.” And it would be ruining—completely. Pathetic, really, but I was finally doing something about my pathetic-ism.

“I plan to.” He set me on my feet in his bedroom but kept his arm tight around my waist. I titled my head back and moaned as his hand went beneath my shirt, lifting my bra out of the way to play with my nipples.

“Oh, man, you’re incredible.” He rubbed my nipple and it felt … like a rough, wool shirt was chafing my nipples back and forth. Really, I wanted him to pinch them, make it hurt, but Lionel was all gentle and sweet. My stomach knotted. It was like every touch was tying up my intestines. I had to do this. I was fucked up anyway. What did it matter if I gave myself to some pussy? It was about time.

He lowered me onto the bed then straddled me. I took in the layout of the room: bed, nightstand, dresser, no computer.

Once he passed out, I could do what I was supposed to do by coming here tonight.

“Shirt, gorgeous.” He helped me take off my black-knit V-neck then groaned as he leaned over me, taking my nipple into his mouth, suckling then swirling his tongue around the pinkish glow.

“Harder.” I wanted pain. It was my reminder that I was real.

He drew it into his mouth, and I arched my back into him hoping he’d bite down, but he didn’t. Instead, he placed kisses across my breastbone to my other breast and squeezed it like it was a friggin’ stress ball.

“I need inside you.” As soon as he said it, I knew this wasn’t going to happen. I’d thought maybe I could, but not like this. This wasn’t the right guy, right time or right reason.

I’d have to live with my pathetic a little longer.

He slid off the bed and for a brief second, I thought of running. Escape. But it was in that brief second before I got my shit together.

I leaned up on my elbow and watched as Lionel lowered his zipper. Shit, I needed Plan B in action now. “How about you wait here and get naked and I’ll find us some drinks.”

An image of Deck flashed before me. His disappointment. His glacier expression. The fucked-up thing was I was wet just thinking about him. It was how I got through this shit. Deck always made me feel safe and protected, and yet he had no idea I hadn’t been safe since he left when I was sixteen.

I bolted off the bed the second I heard the front door to his apartment. “You have a roommate?” Shit, what the hell. I was told he lived alone.

He shook his head.

“Fuck.” No roommate. That meant … I snagged my top off the floor at the same time the bedroom door burst open, the wood splintering where the faceplate met the door frame.

“Jesus.” Lionel swung around and staggered back, hitting the bed and falling onto it.

I gaped at Deck standing in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room as he did recon. Always in military mode even when breaking in some poor sap’s place to drag his dead best friend’s sister out. Shit, what the hell? He was supposed to be in New York. This was planned for when he was in New York.

“Get dressed.”

His voice was the usual deep, abrupt sound, but I noticed a slight vibration to it. I knew Deck. I was addicted to him and his darkness, the pain always lingering in the depths of his eyes matching my own. Yet, that rumble in his voice I’d never heard before.

Goose bumps blazed across my skin as if I’d just touched an electric fence. “Weren’t you supposed to be in New York, sweetpea?” My guess, Matt had been on the phone to Deck the second I showed up at Avalanche tonight. It was only an hour-and-a-half flight back to Toronto. This was a total screw-up. A warning from him would have been nice.

“Ah, fuck. Boyfriend? Hey, man, I didn’t touch her,” Lionel said, like the wimp-ass he was. He crawled off the opposite side of the bed as far away from Deck as he could.