Head Over Wheels (Steamy New Adult Romance) (31 page)

BOOK: Head Over Wheels (Steamy New Adult Romance)
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HE LOVES ME HE LOVES ME NOT

 

I
ndigo lay on his back. Tucked between his arm and chest, I was the first to break the silence. "I thought I heard you ... in the shower ... say ..."

"All I heard was the floodwater in there, and you moaning and groaning," he teased, his arm tightening around me, his lips brushing my forehead. "And then with that storm out there ..."

"Be serious." Playfully elbowing his abs, I felt compelled to insist. "I could have sworn I heard you mumble ..." The words came out in a breath. Immediately, I drew another.

"Are you asking if ..." I felt his lips run through my hair, then move across my cheek. His tongue swept my ear. "You want to know if I said I love you?"

My heart thumped. "Did you?" Lifting my head, I gazed into his eyes, deep and the color of pewter. "Was it in the heat of the moment?"

My gaze inched from his, to watch the gentle movement of his lips, to witness the shape of his mouth murmuring the words I'd longed to hear. I felt his breath as he whispered, "I love you."

Melting inside, I climbed onto him. "You love me?" On all fours, I posed above him.

"I do."

"Say it again."

"I love you, Jewel." His arms came around me.

"I love you too ..." I brought my lips to his, murmuring, "so much."

Positioning me on my side, his fingers traced my face, moving to my neck, my breasts that longed to feel the moistness of his mouth again. "I love making you scream." His voice was so raspy, he sounded as though
he'd
been the one screaming.

"You weren't kidding when you said you know how to bring a woman to a screaming climax." I brought his hand to my face and sucked his fingers, one at a time. "I just had several."

"You could've fooled me." His laugh was soft. "Years of practice."

"What?" Once more on top of him, my head strained above his.

He chuckled. "Textbooks, my baby."

"Ah ha. Okay, I'm letting you slide on that one, but just this once, you hear?"

Our foreheads pressed together, a sheet covering our bodies.

He ran a hand down my spine where it came to rest at the small of my back. "Tell me again."

"I'll let you slide?"

"You know what I mean." He urged me closer.

"Jimmy," I breathed, "I love you."

He rolled me onto my back, propped on an elbow, and gazed down at me. "That morning in Kelly's. It was crazy. I felt an immediate connection." His lips played with the lobe of my ear, the curve of my neck.

"You did?" I turned to face him, winding a leg around his, while my fingers brushed his chest.

His hand trailed idly up my thigh. I was certain he had no idea what his fingers were doing to me. "I did. Those dark eyes of yours flashing messages. I thought you were feeling it ... but then again, I wasn't sure if I was just another guy hitting on a beautiful woman, until you came over."

"Until Vanessa, you mean."

"I put her in her place, but when I turned around, you were gone."

"I figured you were taken."

"I was ... by you. I thought I'd never see you again. I felt awful."

"Believe me, so did I." I squeezed him. "I almost fell over when I saw you looking at me. Your eyes were like silver magnets ... like they are now."

Repositioning, he cradled me, tucking my head beneath his chin. "I'm sleepy, but I could love you again, and again, and again." He sighed contentment.

"Love me more tomorrow," I giggled, "right now I'm so exhausted I need to sleep or you'll be performing CPR."

"I wouldn't mind in the least."

ONCE IS NEVER ENOUGH

 

I
must have drifted off to sleep, because my next conscious thought was,
holy shit
. Lightning shattered the room like an exploding bomb. Was it howling wind or a freight train slamming into the house?

"Did you hear that?" I whispered, straining to hear through the racket beyond the bedroom windows.

"Hear what?" Indigo's words weren't quite formed.

"Were you sleeping?" My breath came fast.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He snapped awake.

"There it is again. Didn't you hear that? The clunk ... something hit the house." I was up and off the bed faster than the strobes of electricity clobbering the yard, snatching the flashlight Indigo had placed on the nightstand. I lifted the window, stuck my head out and saw a jagged tear in the trunk of an evergreen. "A tree hit the house," I said, inhaling the night, the clean, pine scented rain.  "It must have been struck by lightning."

The flashlight revealed a limb stretched across the walkway, needled boughs like broken wings. With crumbling bark, I imagined it to be a pterosaurs, a prehistoric reptile that had fallen into this time from another era. I wielded the light like a beacon, checking for damage, and in the strong beam I saw them; dozens of eyes reflecting back at me. Red and evil and glaring.

"
Dios mío
," I shrilled, "
Manada de lobos!"

"What the hell's going on, Jewel?" I had to concentrate to distinguish Indigo's words.

"There's a pack of wolves out there."

"Honey, it's the storm ... and you've got an overactive imagination. Come back to bed." He held up the sheet, inviting me into his arms. "You're safe in here with me."

I sucked in a breath, slammed the window shut and stood frozen, naked in the flashlight's glow. Indigo was propped on an elbow. I felt his eyes on me, warm as his hands had been. I dropped the light and dove into bed beside him, snuggling into the curve of his body.

When he pressed against me, thoughts of lurking creatures were quickly erased. "Mmm, you're nice and warm," I whispered, running my palms across his chest, "and hard." I giggled.

"Very observant," he murmured, his lips brushing my ear.

Pushing him onto his back, I nibbled his neck, then my tongue licked a path straight down his chest.

"Baby," he whispered, his fingers tangling in my hair.

Knees folded beneath me, I hovered over his erection, gazing up at him, meeting his eyes with longing. "Now it's your turn, baby. I want to show you how good I can make you feel. I want to taste you ... every inch of you."

I watched his jaw drop, heard the ragged breath he drew. Moaning, he sank deep into the mattress.  I teased him with stroking fingers, and when my mouth came down on him, he held my hair off my face, groaning, "Fuck yeah ..." Unable to take him in completely, my fingers caressed the length of his shaft, while my tongue whirled around the smooth tip. I sucked in rhythm with my sliding palm, driving him insane.

Knowing exactly where, and how to touch him, I had him almost growling, fisting my hair, curling his toes. I buffed his pulsing cock until he was about to come, aching for him so badly, selfishly wanting him inside me while he was still big and hard.

"God ... don't stop," he groaned the moment I lifted my lips.

"Ssh." I grabbed a condom, smoothed it on, then straddled him, slowly dropping my hips, gripping the headboard to brace myself. Moaning, I ground into him, watching his head roll from side to side. His lips were parted. Thick lashes curled above his partially closed lids. Watching his pleasure intensified mine. His hips rocked effortlessly, and I knew he was ready to release.

Hovering inches above him, I was held by my breasts, my nipples abraded by his palms. The ache between my legs exploded, and when he reached behind me, I thought I'd pass out with the sensation. My moans turned to gasps, then cries.

He flipped me onto my stomach, covered my mouth with his hand, and after aligning our torsos, pounded my body with his. Exploding inside, I gripped him hungrily. I felt the rush reach my brain, clawed at the covers, my body squirming furiously beneath his. He nibbled my neck. His teeth grazed my shoulder. I felt him tense, and after a final thrust, he collapsed beside me. Sinking into the mattress, his chest heaved.

"Christ. You almost killed me tonight." Drawing deep breaths, his words were hoarse.

"Me?" My throat burned, my raspy voice foreign to my ears. "Much more and you'll be pumping my chest instead of my pussy." My wildly thumping heart began to calm, but the laugh I attempted turned into a strangled cough.

"I love you," he whispered, "and I love making love to you." He lay on his back, with me tucked between his arm and his chest, a favored position. "And I love your pussy ..." Exhausted, his slur was comical. I wondered if he realized what he was saying.

I was delirious. I was groggy. "I love you," I murmured, drifting on a euphoric wave of slumber. In the distance I heard whispers of his love, then I went out like a light.

EMMA’S SCREAM – INDIGO’S REVELATIONS

 

T
he blood curdling scream woke me from my dreamless sleep. While I wrapped myself in a sheet, Indigo pulled on his jeans. I flipped the wall switch and the nightstand lamps glowed rudely, blinding my sleep deprived eyes.

"Holy shit," I cried out, "what the fuck's happening now?"

My eyes adjusting, I ran to the door. Indigo pulled me beside him, his voice a harsh whisper. "Hold on, babe. Let me go first."

We rushed from the room to find Bill and Emma perched on the landing. They were fully clothed, just as we'd left them, but now their mouths were stretched into huge smiles. Her eyes glistened. His sparkled.

Suddenly, the hallway grew louder than the storm-filled night as doors flung open and we aimlessly assembled. We looked like wanderers who'd lost their compass, circling, bumping into each other, the walls, rubbing sleep from our eyes.

"Are you just coming upstairs?" I asked Emma, running my hands over my face, through the tangles of my hair. "What time is it?"

"About two, maybe three." Emma looked blameless and lovely, dressed in her own special glow.

"It feels like it should be morning. What's up, Em?" I knew I sounded annoyed, but geeze, how about some peace and quiet, people?

"Look, Jewel." She stuck her left hand under my nose, proudly presenting a brilliant diamond solitaire radiating with fire on her ring finger.

I grabbed her hand, examining it closely. "Oh, Em, it's gorgeous," I mumbled, then threw my arms around her. "You're engaged. You're engaged. Oh my God." I felt her tears on my shoulder, then mine began to fall. "I'm so happy for you." I sniffed. "When are you getting married?" My fingers dug into her shoulders.

"November 15th," she wheezed in my ear, "I'm so excited I can hardly stand it."

"Holy shit, Em. You don't waste time. It's less than a year away." I pulled back, my eyes widening. "We've got a lot of planning to do." When I brought her in for another squeeze, she whispered, "You know you're my maid of honor, right?"

As Yvonne and I blabbed with Em, Indigo's stare caught my attention. I flashed him a bleary-eyed smile and shrugged, mouthing, "I can't believe it."

Before congratulating Bill, the others teased him with the usual ball and chain comments, then shoved Yvonne and me aside to reach Emma. That's when I realized I was standing in the middle of the glaring hallway, looking like I'd just rolled out of a Toga party.

"Let's go back to the room," I said to Indigo, pulling him from Bill's side. With a look of relief, he took my hand and followed me down the hallway to our room. "Who can sleep after this?" I mumbled, shutting the door with my hip as I continued to chatter away. "You're awfully quiet. What's up with that?"

While I uncoiled from the sheet, I watched Indigo slip out of his jeans and settle at the edge of the bed. He was a solid mass of beautifully carved rippling muscle. It was the first time I had a chance to examine his exquisite body in bright light.

"I like your ink," I said, referring to the black Byzantine cross bulging with his triceps. I shook out the sheet, letting it parachute to the mattress. "They are one happy couple, that's for sure. Did you see the look on their faces?"

His delayed response shocked the hell out of me. "I'm sorry things have been so rocky, Jewel. You deserve more." He sounded like he was in a confessional.

I hopped onto the bed and crawled up behind him, throwing my arms around his broad back. Pressing my bare breasts against him, I kissed his neck. "I happen to think things are just fine," I whispered as I nibbled his lobe, "and I do believe I got what I deserve," I giggled, "I doubt I could take much more. I'm sore."

"That's not what I meant." He let out a long breath, then slammed me with a rush. "If you want what Emma and Bill have ... I'm not sure I can give it to you." Confession over, defeat dug into his voice.

"What are you talking about?" I peered over his shoulder, analyzing his grim profile.

"I thought I could handle it ..." Stripped of emotion, he shook his head.

Dropping my arms, I stiffened. As my mouth fell open, my feet hit the floor. "Exactly what can't you handle?" I marched around the foot of the bed, not caring that I was naked. I was angry all over again, ticking reasons off on my fingers as I faced him. "You called and apologized for disappearing for over a week. You came to Maine. You fucked me and said you love me. So what the hell's the story?" My chest heaved. "What is it now? Because I'm on my last nerve with this on and off bullshit."

"It's got nothing to do with fucking you, Jewel. Or loving you." His tone chilled the room. "You're the only good thing in my life. It's everything else that's wrong."

I was losing grip of who this man was, and it was freaking me out. "What's so wrong? You're scaring me, Indigo." I settled softly beside him, my heart fluttering.

"I shouldn't have said anything. It's not your problem." His gaze went beyond the window.

"Hey. You can't say stuff like that and then just blow it off ... blow me off." Although I sounded tough, he was turning me inside out. "Talk to me." My voice shook.

He faced me, but seemed to be looking through me. "Talk," his laugh was creepy, "what good does talking do? It doesn't change anything. Nothing does. Just forget it." He actually turned his back on me.

"If you can't confide in me, or even explain yourself, then I guess there's really nothing to say." I couldn't believe the wall was back, and I had to think before I said something I'd be sorry for. As I stomped to my own side of the bed, the ink pouring across the contour of his shoulder blades caught my eye, and my antenna went up. "Unusual tattoo." I came up behind him, running my fingers over the intermingling bodies of two snakes rising in a braid to the nape of his neck, their horned, dragon heads rearing. Beneath the tattoo was a line of black mumbo jumbo. "What's it mean?" My voice was as cold as his skin.

"A symbol of medicine." Without facing me, he spoke quietly, hesitantly.

I found it hard to believe I was prancing around naked in the same room with this stranger who was making me feel like spending the rest of the night on the living room sofa. Better yet, I was about to throw
him
out of the bedroom. Wasn't that how it usually worked?

"What's the writing mean? What language is that?" I demanded, not caring if I acted like a bitch. What the hell ...we were probably breaking up anyway, yet again. Would I become desensitized? When I looked at him, the answer pounded inside my chest. I could never feel anything but love for this man, no matter what happened.

"It's Latin." He seemed to be wound tighter than Bill's guitar strings.

Indigo had two levels of consciousness: hot and cold. And at that moment, he was below zero. I knew something had to be very wrong, so without the attitude, I slid off the bed and stood in front of him. That was when I noticed the pensive expression that had been chiseled into my memory from day one. My insides clenched as tight as Indigo's lips. In lamplight he looked ghostly, shadows of sadness crossing his face. I took a gulp of air, released it, and swallowed hard, waiting for the world to crash around me. This time for real, because he was sitting right in front of me, we'd just made love, and instead of climbing the walls with happiness, he seemed to be withdrawing ... wrestling with a demon. Was it me?

His brooding gaze washed over me, dark and unnerving. He teetered at the edge of the bed, and elbows on knees, he placed his head in hands.

"Jimmy?" I began to panic. "What's wrong?" Kneeling before him I lifted his face, cautiously peeling away his fingers, holding their coldness to my lips, clutching them to my breast. I tried to stare into his eyes, but his eyes were no longer mine. "Did I do something?"

He barely looked at me, and I couldn't seem to drag out a reply. He just kept shaking his head. I stroked his hair, dropped a kiss on his cheek, whispering, "Baby, what's haunting you?"

His jaw was set, but tears pooled in his eyes. I ran my hands up and down his arms, trying to warm him, bring him back to me. My stomach churned. I felt close to losing everything I'd eaten. What the fuck was going on? I ran my fingertips over the red heart on his chest, scrutinized the Byzantine cross on his arm, bearing the text:
Souls In Flight, As Brothers We Fight.

"Brothers we fight," I repeated the black ink phrase. "Is that from a fraternity?"

He was closing his eyes to me ... or to whatever evil gripped him. He uttered an eerie, "No." His detachment was paralyzing. What was the meaning of the messages he'd permanently stamped on his body? As permanent as his misery seemed to be.

I ran my fingers through his hair, kissed his neck, praying: Dear Lord, don't let me lose him, not now, not ever. My touch had no effect. Sitting close beside him, I ran my palm over his back. "What's this writing mean?" I whispered, my fingertips lingering on the text beneath the dragon tattoo:
Fratrem meum - qui confidunt in me. Puritate et integritate vobis servabo vitam meam doctrinam.

"Something like the Hippocratic Oath ... my version." His laugh was low and self-deprecating, pushing me to the brink of something I'd never felt before: sheer terror.

"What's the translation?" I prodded, my words catching in my throat.

Avoiding my eyes, in the same self-loathing tone, he replied, "
For my brother – and those who put their trust in me. In purity and honesty I will guard you with my life and my knowledge
."

I lifted his chin, forcing his gaze to mine. He had the chilling look of death in his eyes.

"I had a brother, Jewel."

"Okay ..." I braced for the worst.

"He died when he was just a kid."

My hand flew to my mouth, covering the breath I sucked in. "I'm so sorry. Was it an accident?" I wondered if Indigo was somehow involved in his brother's death and couldn't forgive himself.

"It's complicated. It's been rough for all of my family, which is part of the reason I couldn't get in touch with you after you left the Hamptons."

He was completely blowing me away, bending my mind. What the hell was the deep dark family secret?

"In case you wondered, you didn't meet my father that weekend, because he was locked in his den, blasting himself to hell, yet again. Just one of the reasons my mother's the resentful," he struggled with his words, "bitch that she is. It all stems from Danny's death."

His stare was cold, hard granite.

"Danny was your
younger
brother ..."

He snatched his wallet from the nightstand and flipped it open. Inside was a photo of an adorable little boy sitting on a flight of wide concrete steps. He was plastered to the side of Indigo, who appeared to be a teen. Indigo's arm was draped protectively around the grinning boy with a missing front tooth.

I held his wallet, staring at the photo, my heart breaking. "What happened to him?"

Indigo was turning on me, shrinking away as though I was an invasion of privacy, and not the woman he'd just held in his arms. My stomach knotted, and I had to steady myself. Once more I knelt before him, taking his face in my hands. "Baby, you've got to talk about it. Unload or it will eat at you for the rest of your life."

He drew a deep breath, and I watched the muscles in his face strain as he worked his jaw. "Danny contracted childhood leukemia. He passed away shortly after that photo was taken." He closed his eyes tightly, as if darkness would erase the memory.

"Talk to me." I grabbed his shoulders and shook him as though trying to bring the dead back to life, streaming tears reaching my chest.

When his eyes finally opened, I knew he was unreachable. "My parents were absent more than they were home when we were kids – and of course they weren't around that day." He muttered in broken phrases. "They never had the best marriage. My mother was modeling in Europe, on a trip she said couldn't be postponed, and my dad, well, he fixed a lot of brains in his day, but couldn't do anything for my brother, so he withdrew into himself. I was the closest thing Danny had to a parent. We did everything together ... I did everything for him. I promised him I was going to be a doctor, and if he'd hang in there, I'd make him well. I swore I could help him ... I promised ... and he believed me. I believed me." He touched the place on his chest where the tattoo rested beneath his heart. His eyes sought peace, my understanding, escape from the self-inflicted punishment that was destroying him. His eyes said so many things, I feared he’d explode at any moment as life came rushing back into him.

"This is for Danny?" I pressed my lips to the heart on his chest.

"Everything is for Danny. I'd give up my life to bring him back. To keep my promise."

I pulled him to the floor beside me, and there we sat, two naked souls. In sobs, his secrets spilled onto my lap, along with warm tears.

"Danny died in my arms, Jewel. There was nothing I could do. Afterward, my parents
really
hated each other, each blaming the other for Danny's illness, for not being there when ..."

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry." If my arms, my love, could have eased his pain, he would have looked into my eyes with peace, not the darkness that chilled my soul. He was suffering so badly, I wondered if anything in the world could ever help him.

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