Behind the Tears (Behind the Lives) (24 page)

“Okay, then you take care and pop in for a visit anytime you want a chat.”

“Thank you, Mr. Murphy.”

“My pleasure.” With a wave, he was off. Although he was an old fella, he was a very active one, the type she couldn’t imagine ever going into a retirement home.

She got out of the car and willed herself forward, waving at Mr. Murphy as he restarted his lawnmower. She entered the Rata property through the driveway, then came to a standstill at the front door, fear again making her hesitate. “Do it,” she said, now getting annoyed with herself. She unlocked the door and slipped inside.

Shaking, she headed for
hers and
Ash’s bedroom, relieved that at least he wasn’t there, then moved onto Dante’s. She poked her head through the doorway, taken aback by the state of the room. It was like a tornado had ripped through it, scattering CDs and clothes all over the place, along with cardboard boxes. And in the middle of the mess stood Dante. He had his back to her, swearing as he picked up a suitcase, which he threw at the wall.

“Dante!” she blurted out.

He jolted, then slowly turned around. He looked like a wild man with his bare chest, tattoos, messy hair and dark eyes. She wondered whether he’d shot up on cocaine, because he didn’t look completely sane.

“Get out!” he hollered.

His words ran through her like a bolt of electricity, making her muscles jump and twitch with fear. “P-Please lemme explain.”

“No!”

He started advancing on her. She stumbled out of the room and down the passage, his body language screaming at her to get the hell out of there, because he looked like he wanted to wrap his hands around her neck and snap it. She squealed as he reached out, but his hand moved past, pulling the passage door shut behind her.

Her back hit the door. “I-I didn’t mean f-for this to happen,” she said, her words broken by crying.

“Don’t you dare cry.” He hit the door behind her, the reverberations running down her spine.

“You’re scaring me.”

“Then fuck off!”

“B-But, you’re holding the door shut.”

His lips twitched, then he took a step backwards. When she didn’t make a move, he narrowed his eyes. “What’re you waiting for?”

“I wanna make things right.”

“You can’t.”

“But I have to. I love you.”

“No, you fuckin’ don’t!” He spun around and headed back into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Beth stood rooted to the spot, both wanting and not wanting to leave, because if she did, she knew there wouldn’t be a way back into his life. She was right: he was going to take off, because he’d been packing.

She jumped at the sound of a crash. Loud swearing followed. He had a right to be angry, and to chew her up and spit her out; she just wished he didn’t look so scary while doing it.

She headed for his room again, terrified yet determined as she opened the door.

He spun around, his eyes wide. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I can’t leave until you understand why I texted your picture,” she blurted out, before she tripped over her words and fell into a blubbering mess.

“Cos you fuckin’ hate me, that’s why.”

“No, I said love you, which is why I did it.”

“You’re fucked in the head even worse than I am if ya think that.”

“But I had to stop you from seeing Carly.”

“You were with my brother!”

“I should’ve been with you! I love you more!”

“Bullshit. You’re a lying bitch.”

“I’m not lying!” She was upset over Ash leaving her, but when Dante walked out she was devastated. “I love you so much that I’m even willing to risk gettin’ hurt.”

He stormed over to her, making her jump backwards. “Do you think I’m gonna beat you up? That I’m some lowlife piece of scum like Deano Jones?”

“No.”

“Then say it without flinching!”

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” she said, although she didn’t believe it.

“But YOU hurt me. You ripped my heart out and spat on it.” He grabbed the neck of her blouse and tore it open, then placed a hand on her heart and pushed her against the wall. “Do you have a heart in there or are you just a stone-cold bitch who enjoys screwing with people’s lives?”

“I-I didn’t m-mean to hurt you.”

“I fuckin’ love-
d
you!”

She flinched, the pain in his voice raw. She was wrong; he did hurt her, because he’d accentuated the “d” at the end of “loved.” Past tense, present tears, he didn’t want her anymore, it was as clear as that.

Her heart thumped against his hand. “I still love you,” she said, now unable to hold back the tears.

He let go of her and covered his ears. “Stop saying that!”

She grabbed his arms and pulled them down, desperate for him to hear her out. “Then explain why I always run to you when you end up in jail, or why I get torn apart every time I see you with another woman. And if I didn’t love you I’d still be with Ash and I wouldn’t be standing here crying and scared out of my wits that you won’t forgive me.”

He stared at her for a moment before speaking, his expression now uncertain. “If you loved me you wouldn’t have risked my life.”

“I didn’t know Deano would order a hit.”

“But you know he’s violent. What do you think he wuz gonna do? Congratulate me on fucking his wife?”

“I didn’t think about him at all, all I saw wuz you on top of another woman, and all I wanted wuz that woman to be me.”

He jerked his arms away from her. “How do you think I felt when Ash kissed you? But I didn’t go humiliating him or risking his life like you did to Carly.”

“I didn’t think!” she screamed, frustration now taking over. “And he’s your brother, you love him, whereas I HATE Carly for goin’ anywhere near you!” She pulled off her blouse and threw it at him, her hands shaking badly. She needed to shock him into silence, because she couldn’t handle much more of his venom, plus she was willing to do anything to get him, to make him want her as much as she wanted him, and if it meant stripping down to nothing then she’d do it, because he was already stripping her nerves raw.

His eyes widened as she started unhooking her bra. “What the hell’re you doin’?”

“Proving I love you.”

“By stripping?”

“No, by explaining to you what I did last night?” She dropped the bra.

“What did you do?” he croaked, his eyes riveted to her breasts.

She pushed down her skirt, her heart beating so fast she swore he could hear it. “I got into bed with you.”

His eyes flicked up to hers. “What?”

“You heard me, and do you wanna know why I did it?”

“Why?”

She dropped her knickers. “I wanted to get a taste of what it would be like to sleep with you every night.”

“We fucked?”

“No, I meant
to sleep
literally.”

“But, you weren’t there this morning.”

“I snuck out, even though I didn’t want to leave, cos you felt perfect against my body.” She touched her breasts. “I pressed these up against your back.” She lowered one hand to her crotch. “While this throbbed for you. I wanted to wake you, but I didn’t, cos I need you sober so you would remember everything you did to me. I want your mind as well as your body.”

He snorted. “Did you get that stupid line out of one of your romance novels? Cos it’s shite.”

“If you wanna mock me, then stop looking at my breasts.”

His eyes shot up to her face. She took another step forward and reached for his zipper, the large bulge in his pants giving her confidence.

He stumbled backwards, almost falling over his suitcase. “What do you think you’re doin’?”

“You know the answer to that.”

He shook his head. “You abused my trust.”

“Then abuse me in return.” She grabbed his waistband and unzipped his pants, surprised to find no underwear.

“Beth,
no
.”

She lowered herself to the floor and took him inside her mouth, his groans telling her yes. Watching his face intently, she ran her tongue up his cock and flicked the hood. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, his visage a portrait of sex. She grasped his cock and started twisting it as she sucked on him hungrily.

“Deeper,” he said.

She breathed in through her nose and took in more of him, trying to relax her throat as he began to move his hips.

“Deeper.”

Unable to, she bobbed her head up and down, hoping he’d like that instead. With a loud groan, he grabbed her head and started pumping her mouth, almost making her choke. She forced her head back for a breath, then before she knew what was happening, she was tugged up and shoved onto the bed. He kicked off his pants and climbed on top of her, his expression overflowing with lust. Overcome with happiness, she grabbed his butt and pushed up against him, rubbing herself against his hard cock. She squealed as her wrists were wrenched away and clamped over her head.

“Don’t touch,” he growled.

He lowered his head and latched onto her breast, sucking it so hard she thought he was going to eat her. She screamed as he bit down. He lapped the mark, then moved to her other breast, pulling at her nipple with his teeth. She knew he was a biter from the incident at the party, Carly’s squeals having woken her up.

Aching to touch him, she tried to free her wrists. He squeezed them tighter, making her gasp, “Dante, you’re hurting me.”

“Payback’s a bastard.”

He bit down again, pulling out another scream. Pain shot through her body, turning into pleasure below. She arched up into him, not sure if she could take much more, but desperately wanting to.

He replaced his mouth with his fingers and squeezed her nipples hard, his smile telling her he was savouring her squirming under him. “Who would’ve guessed that sweet li’l Bethy-babe’s a pain junkie.”

She shook her head, not wanting to admit anything to him, or more likely too scared to, because she knew he’d give her what she wanted—and more.

His smiled widened, telling her he didn’t believe her. He let go of her nipples and traced her body with his mouth, kissing and biting a path down-under. Her eyes almost shot out of their sockets as his mouth started attacking her below. She grabbed his head and thrust upwards, the feeling so frigging good.

He knocked her hands away. “I said, don’t touch!”

She went still, too shocked to do anything else.

He moved up over her body, the glint in his eyes scaring her. His top lip curled up into what she could only describe as an evil grin; then without warning he flipped her over, planting her face down. “You really want me to abuse you?” he whispered into her ear, giving it a lick.

She moved her face to the side, barely able to get out a “Yes.”
No. Yes. No, fuck yes!

“Then let’s see whether you’re all talk, whore.” He grabbed her hair and twisted her head around, bruising her lips with his own.

She pulled away. “Don’t call me a whore!”

“Okay,
princess
?”

“Don’t make fun of me either!” She tried to turn around, but couldn’t.

“I can do whatever I like...” His hand edged under her breast, cupping it roughly. “...cos you do. You thought you could control me with sex, but it ain’t working, is it?” He squeezed harder.

“Ouch! You’re hurting me.”

“And you like it.” He slackened his grip, then brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck. “Gentle and rough,” he whispered against her skin. “Soft and hard, my princess, my whore.” He kissed down her spine, his hands caressing her butt, then he smacked it, making her yelp. He kissed the ache away, then moved a hand lower. He said something else, but she lost all concentration as his talented fingers started playing with her entrance. She wriggled about, desperately trying to get him to push them inside. Instead, he pushed her legs apart and moved back up, replacing his fingers with his cock. “Do you really want me?”

Oh God,
“Yes.”

“Even the bad?”

“Yes, yes.”

Without warning, he shoved his cock inside of her, pushing to the hilt. Heaven and Hell shot through her all at once, the feeling far too intense. She screamed as he pistoned in and out of her, the friction sending her over the edge. It was how she’d imagined he’d do her, taking her roughly as he forced his way in, the pain adding to the fantasy, and making her come harder than she ever had before.

He froze on top of her, then pulled out. He said something, but she couldn’t take it in, the orgasm still swamping her mind and making her body shudder. Loud swearing started up behind her, snapping her out of her sexual high. Lazily, she turned around, surprised to find Dante staring down at her, and looking like he was about to cry.

“What’s wrong?” she said, not understanding why he was upset.

“I did it like that sick bastard.”

“Who?”

He bent over as though he was going to throw up. “Please forgive me.”

“There’s nuthin’ to forgive—”