Everything I've Never Had (51 page)

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Authors: Lynetta Halat

BOOK: Everything I've Never Had
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Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is a topic that hits close to home for me. This being a romance novel, I don’t go specifically into all that is required and endured for treatment. In essence, I brush over the details but the gist of the matter is this—PTSD affects more people than we know. Know the symptoms and never quit fighting for those afflicted. We (civilians) could never understand what our men and women in uniform go through, but there is treatment and the stigma associated with it is beginning to fade. I thank them so much for their courage and bravery in the face of the many evils this world has to offer.

 

 

 

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– THE WAY ADRIAN SEES IT –

 

 

WITH A STUPID ass grin the size of Texas plastered on my face, I watch mesmerized as she throws her head back and loses herself in the music. Since she’s obsessed with the band Bush, I’d asked the other Dog Tags if we could cover more of their songs tonight. I’m glad we did. It’s been good to see her relax and cut loose. She’s been through hell, and no one deserves to have fun more than she does.

I give a chin lift to my buddy who’s been moving in circles around her all night to keep all the douche bags away from her. I hope she’s not wondering why no one is hitting on her. I don’t want to make her feel bad about herself, but I’m not ready for that. Five fucking years I’ve loved this woman. The last year and a half—I’ve been
in love
with her. I’d promised my cousin, her deceased husband Tripp, that I’d take care of her. And I know she needs to move on from losing him and find someone, but she won’t meet anyone who is even a tiny bit deserving of her in a dive like this. Just her being here raises the value of this place a million times over.

We wind down “Everything Zen,” and I lean over and shout our next song to Zach. He gives me a funny look but doesn’t argue. I never order him around this much, but I want to play this song while I watch her and pretend. I’ve imagined myself with her while listening to this song so many times that it’s fucking ridiculous and it hurts like a bitch, but I’m a glutton for punishment.

She’s been smiling at me all night, so when I play the opening notes to “Everlong” and she shoots me a pained expression, I know immediately that something’s wrong. Was this her and Tripp’s song or something? Nah, he hated rock music. When she whispers to Bonnie and throws me another desperate look, I panic. Is she sick? I would’ve noticed if she’d drunk enough to be sick. I watch her fight her way to the back of the small club and toward the back door. My buddy gives me a questioning look, but I shake my head, letting him know that I’ve got her. I’m already tapping Zach on the shoulder and yanking my guitar off. A couple of girls try to grab at me as I follow her out. I shake them off quickly, and by my look, I’m sure they can tell I’m in no mood.

Standing at the door for a few seconds, I stare in fascination as her whole body trembles in that sexy outfit that had every man in this club hard for her, especially me. I despise that outfit; it shows entirely too much of her tan skin that seems to glow almost. I push the door open and let it slam behind me as I breathe in deep along with her, inhaling her unique scent. My instinct to devour her has never been stronger.

Hoping she won’t hear my pulse racing in my voice, I ask, “Celeste, everything good?”

Even though I know she’s tough as nails, she sounds so small and fragile when she replies, “Umm…yeah, what are you doing out here? Doesn’t your band need you?”

Baby, the world could need me to stop a giant asteroid from crashing into it, but if you needed me, I’d fucking be there.
That seems a little dramatic. Settling, I say instead, “They’ll live. You’re more important.”

When she spins around, she takes my breath away. She looks determined and fucking fierce. Again, I’m fascinated as she strides toward me. Moving doesn’t even cross my mind because she’s never really gotten in my space before. I’m expecting her to stop so when she doesn’t and is close enough to breathe me in and capture me with those lust-infused big brown eyes, I’m powerless and couldn’t move even if a damn hurricane washed ashore right now. My eyes widen with disbelief—does she want
me
?
No fucking way.

Her hands suddenly shoot out, pulling my lips to hers quickly. Gut says—devour her. Brain says—don’t you fucking dare. Don’t you react. She doesn’t mean it. In no way could someone as pure and as good as Celeste care about you. No way could she want to be with you, knowing everything she knows about your family. Since I’m not really reacting, it feels like my first kiss all over again. I want this, want
her
more than anything, but I don’t know how to handle it so it’s mostly awkward.

When her tongue brushes my lip, I’m done for. Mach speed, taking me beyond lust, beyond passion, and dumping my ridiculous ass right on love’s doorstep. I’m in love with this woman, and for now, I don’t care that she could never love me. I don’t care that she’ll crush me when this moment passes. I just need to taste her. Right the fuck now. So I let her in and move in for a taste of my own—just a little taste. And little’s all I get before she breaks our kiss and backs away from me.

What the hell did she do that for? I was just getting started. I need her mouth back on mine like I need my next breath.

“Adrian, I'm so sorry. I...I don't know what I was thinking.” Her tremble is what does me in. “I wasn't thinking, I guess.”

So it’s like I thought. She’s feeling vulnerable and it’s not really about me. Gut shot. I should walk away right now. No, no, fuck no. If I only get one opportunity to kiss her, it’s going to be a hell of a lot better than that one timid kiss. I have to kiss her back. I want her to know how I feel. I need her to know, but I can’t, can I?
Pussy!

Shit! If I kiss her, I run the risk of losing what we’ve built. I can’t lose her and her boys—they’re my world. What would I do without my fucking world? The absence I feel at the imagined loss staggers me.

Yet that thought wars with the thought of never tasting her again. Fuck it! I’ll blame this song and the booze. She’s had a couple. I’ve had a couple. I start toward her, and if I didn’t love her so much, I would laugh my ass off at her frightened expression. What does she think I’m going to do? Fuck her right here on this porch?

I don’t waste any time because I don’t know when she’ll snap to her senses and run me off. I capture her mouth with mine and thrust my tongue into her pliant mouth. Before I can register exactly how incredible she tastes, I run my hands down her back and draw her to me completely, overwhelming all my senses. God, so good. So perfect. Her body fits to mine like a second skin. Like she was made to mold herself around me. Her little whimpers in the back of her throat drive me mad, and I can’t get enough of her. I take her deeper, willing her to give herself to me completely. And my gut pinches when she does. She’s mine.

When her shaky hands pull at my hair, I groan. I want her sweet little hands all over me. Want her to explore me while I explore her. Fuck. One taste will never be enough.

I pull back and place gentle kisses on her sweet mouth. Knowing I’ll never get enough of her, I try to savor how amazing she is before I have to end this. Before she ends me.

When she says, “Mmm...Adrian,” I feel that need to consume her again and know that I have to stop or my taking her right here, right now will become a reality.

With one more tender kiss, I pull back and gaze at her. She’s got her eyes closed, but I can see the corners of them turned up. So I glance down to take in the smile resting on her beautiful face. And it hurts. It hurts that that smile can never really be mine. God, please don’t let me have screwed this all up. I swallow hard and try to push past my fear.

When her eyes flutter open, pleasure spills from them, but that look is quickly replaced by panic and her swift intake of breath. Fuck. She rights herself and stiffens. I brace.

“Adrian—” Nuh uh, no way can I take her letting me down gently.

“No, that's all on me, Celeste. I'm...” I run my hand through my hair. Shit. I’m nervous as a prepubescent boy getting caught looking at his first bit of porn. “Shit...I'm sorry. I'm a shit. It's just...”
Think fast, dickhead.

“I've had too much to drink,” she blurts out. “This is the first time I've been out, and...I was just having fun but started feeling lonely, and I had too much to drink.”

Yeah, I’m drunk too. Drunk on her. As if I didn’t have it bad enough, now I’ve felt her, tasted her, turned her on. God, I thought it was impossible for her to be any more gorgeous, but she was even hotter turned on. And the fact that she was turned on for me—mind-blowing. Even if it was for one brief moment that I’d never get back or experience again, the pain that has ensued is worth it. I’m crippled to know that I’m not enough for her. I scrub my hands over my face, trying to rid myself of all feeling and come up with something to say.

Blaming it on my genes always seems to work. Blowing out a deep breath, I say, “Yeah, and pig that I am, I took advantage of all that.”

Her voice is so sweet as she declares, “You're not a pig. As a matter of fact, you couldn’t be any further from that if you tried.” She doesn’t know the half of it. She sees only good. “And, to be honest, I really needed to be kissed. So...thank you.”

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