Meant For Me (18 page)

When we both stopped moving, settled into relaxed muscles and frantic, gasps for air, I fell onto the bed and pulled Chloe onto my chest. I wanted to stay inside her, but I knew that would be too much for her. She would be sore if I hung around any longer than necessary. So with a sigh I shifted her by the waist so she was resting on my hip. For a second I clamped my eyelids shut, letting the endorphins wash over me, letting the emotion lap at the forefront. Only good things. Nothing but pleasure and caring and intimate, tender shit. No guilt. No regret. No frustration that I wasn’t enough and she couldn’t talk.

Here, right now, we were perfect.

“You okay?” I asked her.

She nodded and looked up at me and smiled.

That made me grin back at her. “That was fucking amazing.”

Her breasts pushed against my chest and she raised her head so she could kiss me softly. I closed my eyes, suddenly overwhelmed. It was the sweetest kiss I’d ever received and I wanted to savor, to hold on to the moment. When she pulled back, her thumb went over my bottom lip, a barely there brush of flesh on flesh. It made me fall in love with her. Right then. Right there. The look in her eye, the small satisfied smile, it was everything. She was everything.

“You make me a better man,” I told her. “And I want to make you happy.”

She made a sound. She leaned over my shoulder and pressed her lips against my ear. “You do.”

It was still a whisper, but her voice was huskier this time. I shivered, I couldn’t help it. God, she sounded sexy. She sounded Russian. She sounded like a woman who had discovered the pleasure of lying naked with a man. With me. There was no doubt in my mind she was happy with me. At least in that moment.

Determined not to let real life invade the sanctity of our hotel room, I stroked over her cute little ass and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Can I do that again?” I asked.

She nodded, an adorable little blush marching across her cheeks.

The willingness turned me on, but I figured it would be really selfish to go at her again so soon, so I kissed her temple. “Good. First thing in the morning then. You should sleep. It’s been a long day.”

Chloe yawned, proving my point. She also rolled off of me so I could get up and dispose of the condom. In the bathroom, I discovered a smear of blood on it and I felt my chest tighten again. This wasn’t a mistake. It wouldn’t be a mistake. Because there was no way to walk away from this or turn my back on this. I couldn’t pretend to not remember what had happened, like I did with drunken hook ups. I had plenty of flashes of fucking those two girls just two nights before. A kiss there, a mouth on my dick there. Me pounding into the one while she ate the other. I could see it, even if it was hazy and numb.

But this would never be like that. This was sharp and clear and swollen with raw, genuine emotion. I felt a weird sense of worry, the understanding that I had done what couldn’t be undone enormous. You didn’t just brush this off, taking a girl’s virginity, with a nonchalant grin and a snarky ass remark.

Not that I wanted to. I didn’t want to undo this. But I didn’t know how to move forward, how to respect the importance, the sincerity of that act of concession on Chloe’s part. She had given in to me and now I had given in to her. Looking at myself in the mirror I saw a guy who didn’t deserve Chloe or her trust but who was damn sure going to keep pulling his sorry ass up out of the dirt and do what was right. She’d stolen my cover, my bullshit attitude, my hard assed determination to not give a shit about anything or anyone. She had yanked down that shield I kept so high in front of me so I couldn’t get hurt and she had forced me to face myself and my feelings.

But that wasn’t fair. Chloe hadn’t torn down anything. All she had done was look at me and trust and believe in me. I had let the wall fall down because I couldn’t resist the tantalizing idea that I could fix what I’d broken.

So now I had to stand up and be the man she expected.

When I came back into the room Chloe was asleep. She had pulled the covers up to her chest and she was in an easy slumber, breathing even. The light on the desk was still on, the music still playing. The Beatles. The Two Of Us.

Damn, that got inside and squeezed hard.

I went to turn the light off and saw Chloe’s phone was lit up. It was just instinct to glance, not nosiness or real curiosity.

But when I saw made me pause and glance back at her again. She didn’t stir. There on her home screen were three texts.

All from the same phone, which wasn’t identified by name.

Leave me alone.

Go fuck yourself.

I don’t care if we were born sisters, you’re not my sister.

I deleted the last two. Chloe didn’t need to see that. But I wanted her to have Anya’s number. She must have left her number with whatever she had dropped on the sidewalk.

I thought about texting back but I didn’t know what I could say to make Anya understand.

So instead I pulled my own phone out and texted Chloe.

Went for a soda. Be right back.

I put her phone on the nightstand next to her so she’d see it if she woke up. Then I got dressed as quietly and quickly as possible, shoved my wallet and the room key in my pocket and left.

It only took fifteen minutes to get back to the club where Anya was playing. Singing. Screaming. Whatever you wanted to call it. I doubted they were done for the night and I was right. There were more people in the club than earlier but it still wasn’t packed. I ordered another shot of vodka and I took it to the stage and offered it up to Anya, then set it at her feet, next to her mic stand. She gave me a look of disgust, but I noticed it didn’t stop her from leaning down and taking the shot and drinking it in one quick swallow.

Positioning myself by the corner of the stage I leaned on a post and watched her. She moved nothing like Chloe. She sounded nothing like Chloe. If it weren’t for the obvious facial similarities it would be easy to say that they weren’t related. But I guess that was nature vs. nuture. Split up, they became totally different people, not the mirror that Chloe had said she looked into.

When the band took a set break Anya saved me the trouble of walking up to her. She came straight over to me and stuck her finger in my face. “Look. I don’t know what the fuck you want, but if you don’t leave I’m calling the cops.”

“And telling them what?” I asked mildly. “I have just as much right to be here as you.”

She frowned. “What do you want? Where is… she?”

“She’s in bed, sleeping. Exhausted. We came here from Maine today just so she could see you.”

Anya’s eyes flickered, but her jaw was set. She moved restlessly, bending over to pull a pack of cigarettes out of her boot. “Well, that’s not my fault. She shouldn’t have bothered to look for me.”

I was starting to think she was right. “I’m back because I saw the texts you sent to Chloe and I just wanted to tell you that there is no fucking reason you need to be such a bitch. Her intentions are pure here. She wanted to find her sister, that’s all.”

“I thought her name was Ekaterina.” She chewed on her fingernail.

I wondered what she would look like without the heavy eye makeup. Probably a hell of a lot like Chloe. It was unnerving. So similar, yet so different.

“Her adopted parents changed her name. They probably shouldn’t have, but they thought they were doing the right thing.”

“At least they kept her. More than I can say for my alleged ‘forever family.’” Anya made air quotes as she spoke. “Assholes.”

“They definitely sound like it. I don’t understand why they would do that to you.” There must have been too much of the pity I genuinely felt in my voice.

She gave me a sharp look. “So why don’t you mind your own business? Can’t Ekaterina or Chloe or whatever the fuck her name is speak for herself?”

“No,” I said flatly. “She can’t. She hasn’t spoken since she was seven years old.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “That’s messed up. What do you mean, she doesn’t talk?”

“She has selective mutism. Look it up.” It wasn’t my job to explain it to her. “I think she thought maybe if she saw you, she’d be able to speak again. At least in Russian. I also think she just wants you in her life and she wanted a chance to communicate that to you.”

Anya was silent for a minute. “I’m going outside for a cigarette. And I don’t want you following me. Tell Chloe I’m sorry for being a bitch. I don’t have any issue with her, it’s just… I have a lot going on in my life and I can’t deal with this. I just can’t. It’s nothing personal.”

So that was that. “You can tell her yourself, either in person or in a text, but I’m not telling her that. This is between you and her.”

She scoffed. “Right. Then what are you doing here?”

I couldn’t argue with that. Pushing myself off the post I just turned to leave without another word.

Anya grabbed my arm. “Hey. Give her this back. Please?” She fished something out of her bra.

“What?” But I was already opening my palm and she dropped it into my hand. It was warm from her flesh and that made me mildly uncomfortable considering how much she looked like Chloe. Like Chloe playing the part of the Bad Twin. The dissimilarities were unnerving.

It was a baby bracelet in my hand. Engraved on the silver charm was the name Anya in scrolling letters.

“Why did Chloe have this?” I asked.

But Anya just backed up, turned on the heel of her combat boot, and walked away.

For a minute, I watched her, expecting her to come back. To explain herself further. What person wasn’t even remotely curious to learn about their long-lost sibling?

But she didn’t. She wasn’t.

When I got back to the hotel, Chloe was still asleep. Leaving the bracelet in the pocket of my jeans, I took them off and slid back into bed beside her. She sighed a little and turned toward me. Afraid she was going to open her eyes, smell the night air, the staleness of the club on me, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against my chest.

She opened her eyes anyway. That guileless trust in her eyes undid me.

I kissed her softly. She moaned a little when my hand slid down over her nipple, then her waist. That was all I needed to kick it into overdrive. I wanted her. I had to have her again, whether it was thoughtful or not. The day had been too crazy and I wanted to be there.

And maybe I wanted reassurance myself.

Or most likely I had just had a taste of Chloe and now I wanted another. I was still a guy and she was naked. Deliciously, warmly, wet and naked.

Gripping her ass, I yanked her leg over my hip, my hard-on immediately present and pushing against her.

“Can I?” I murmured in her ear, slipping a finger between her thighs. She was definitely wet. Either still wet from earlier or already anxious for my touch again. Either way I couldn’t resist stroking her, enjoying the soft sleepy sigh of pleasure she gave me.

Chloe nodded.

“I need to get a condom.”

She gripped my wrist as if to stop me.

“Are you on the pill?”

She nodded.

But then I thought about all the girls I’d hooked up with and how I thought I’d used a condom every time, but I couldn’t exactly verify that and decided I had to suit up anyway. I hadn’t been to the doctor and I couldn’t take that chance with Chloe. “I’d feel better if I just used a condom.”

Without waiting, I leaned over the side of the bed and felt around for my jeans. Digging in the pocket I pulled out my wallet and found a condom. I tore it open with my teeth and had it on before Chloe could change her mind or fall back asleep.

Lifting her leg over my hip I pushed inside her. She gave a gasp that was part pleasure, part surprise. Then I rolled onto my back and brought her with me. For a second she stared down at me, her mouth open, as she processed this new position. I lay there, holding her by the waist, just enjoying her warm body covering mine everywhere. My dick was ready to take action but I liked the sweet torture of not moving, of letting myself throb in her hot softness.

I could see the question in her eyes of what she should do, but I just lifted my head and kissed her. Surrounded by the waterfall of her hair on either side of me, it felt like I was in a private world of just me and Chloe. Never anything but me and Chloe. The connection was strong, flowing between us physically and emotionally.

“I feel very lucky to have you,” I said.

In the curtain of her hair, our bodies joined, she whispered, “Me too.”

It was beautiful. Because those were words of trust and love. I marveled at all the useless words I had said over the years, the lack of thought that went into them before they came out of my mouth. Chloe had a secret weapon. Her words mattered.

“I love you,” I said, because there was no way to contain it. Not when she had been giving so much to me.

Her eyes widened.

Then because I didn’t want her to say it back, because I wanted to let my words hang there, let her hold onto them, I lifted her hips and brought her back down onto me. “Like this.”

Her head snapped up. A low moan came from the back of her throat. Then she tentatively took over, repeating my action. It only took a few times before she had it figured out and we were both breathing hard and squeezing onto each other. It took gritting my teeth and total concentration to not take over the rhythm, to let her take charge, but I did it.

My reward was she found her orgasm and it was gorgeous, big and full and all flushed cheeks and soft cries. I took over then, pumping hard up into her, loving the way her breasts slapped against my chest and her hair covered me. “Damn it, you’re so fucking sexy.”

I was being rough, but I couldn’t stop myself. I could only control myself so long and I was lost in her, in her beauty, her heart, her body.

When I came, I didn’t think about myself. I only thought about her.

It was better than I could have ever guessed.

Better than I ever deserved.

Waking up wasn’t a leisurely untangling of warm limbs.

I jerked awake, Chloe shaking me hard. Eyes snapping open I realized she was out of bed and standing next to the bed, leaning over me. “What? What’s wrong?”