Sweet Temptation (20 page)

It's the first time I've ever thought to make the comparison.

It's an excruciating afternoon in the car with the girl—me speaking calmly, her near hysterics. I answer all of her questions. I make it clear what is at stake for both of us.

“Are you a virgin?” I ask. Her eyes dart to the floor and she hangs her head—that's a no. “You don't need to be ashamed. I'm trying to see how much you know. I'm not going to do anything to you, but if you have questions . . . about men . . .”

She shakes her head frantically.

“We both have to pretend I've shown you what to do with these men, Iva. Do you understand that? We will both be punished if they find out we did nothing but talk today.”

She jerks her chin up and down as tears stream from her eyes. “I know what to do,” she says in a thick voice. “I don't want to go to that woman's house! Don't make me go. Please!”

She grasps my shirt in her thin hands and cries out. Nieces and conquests have cried in my presence more times than I can count, and I never reached out to comfort them. Never. Nieces must learn to self-comfort, and conquests must not be led on.

But that was before. Now, without hesitation, I pull Iva to me. She's far too thin. I put an arm around her as she cries into my chest.

“Please save me, sir, please,” she sobs. I hold her tighter, swallowing hard.

I know better than to make promises I can't keep, but I dare to say, “I will try. I swear it. . . .”

Father knows people, and so does Marissa. They have ties to all areas of law enforcement—dirty cops and officials who've been bought off. If I try to uncover this operation, to expose it to authorities, I'll be killed. For now, I am powerless, and I'm
at the mercy of Iva to keep my secret. But I swear to myself at that moment . . . I will be watching; watching and waiting for a time when I can expose Marissa and her abomination of a business.

My shirt is still damp with Iva's tears when I leave her at Marissa's, and I am hollow.

I'm feeling reckless after the encounter with Iva. It's too late to go back to being safe. There's no way to trek away from the edge of the choices I've made. I will forever be on this precipice I've climbed, staring over into the abyss of hell and waiting to be found out and shoved off.

It's only a matter of time. A certain peace comes with this knowledge.

It's that peace, paired with today's recklessness, that sends me toward Anna's town.

As I get closer, a light snow begins to fall. I push my hearing toward her apartment. I hear movement inside and my heart shoots into high gear.

This is foolish. I'm a fool. I shouldn't be here, but I can't stop now. My forward momentum is too fast. I'm parking and jumping out, searching around me. My quick breaths make clouds in the air as I jog up the steps to her door.

I listen as the person inside goes still, then tiptoes to the door.

“Who is it?” Patti asks. Her strong voice lifts me up and I smile.

“It's Kaidan, ma'am.”

The door swings open and her eyes are wide, red hair wild.
Excitement and love burst from her aura and she throws her arms around my midsection. Holy shit, I'm getting choked up. I hold her tightly, swallowing and blinking away the emotion. I won't cry, but damn, this woman is shoveling something warm and golden into my hollow places. Just like when I'm with Anna, I can't help but wonder how someone so good can care for someone like me.

She pulls back and grabs my face to look at me, then hugs me once more and releases. “Anna's not here. She went for a run, but I'm sure she'll be back soon. It's too cold out there, the crazy girl!” She pats down her wavy hair, smiling. “Can I get you some tea?”

Disappointment tugs at my mood, because I should not linger.

“I'm sorry, miss. I'd love to, but I can't stay.”

“I understand,” she whispers. “But she'll be
so
upset she missed you.”

Will she? This sends more golden stuff pouring into me, though the foolishness of my actions is starting to splinter through my reckless peace now. I
really
shouldn't be here.

Patti squeezes my shoulders as I bend to give her a quick kiss on the cheek and go. Her eyes are filled with moisture when I leave.

Nervousness invades my system as I walk quickly to the BMW.

Stupid, stupid, stupid . . .

I reach up and yank off my knitted cap to run my hand roughly through my hair, which I haven't cut in the fourteen months since I moved. It waves over my ears as I pull the cap
back on. I'm at the BMW now, opening the door. As disappointed as I am, I know it's for the best that Anna doesn't see me. I've worked so hard to—

I turn abruptly as something moves in my peripheral vision. I stand there and stare across the parking lot. From her light blue sneakers to her black yoga bottoms that fit every curve—bloody hell—to the thin jumper that can't possibly be warm enough. She's on the other side of the lot, her back to me. She stares up at the snow, oblivious to her surroundings. I want to shake her and yell, “I could have been a Duke or an axe murderer and you'd have never noticed me!”

But all I can do is stare. And then her name slips past my lips.

She freezes in front of her apartment stairwell and her head snaps up. Her cheeks, which were pink, go red as she stares back at me.

“Hi,” she whispers, and it's so simple, so sweet, so Anna.

“Hi, yourself.”

I should leave. I shouldn't have called her name. I shouldn't be here. I know all of that, and yet, I can't move.

“I hate Valentine's Day,” she says.

My heart squeezes at the sound of sadness in her voice, but I grin at her blunt honesty. “Yeah, it's shite.”

I want to tell her I'm fairly certain my father created this poor excuse for a holiday as a way to promote disappointment among lovers, but I don't want to mention him.

She rewards me with a small smile, then falls serious. “Is everything okay?”

No. No, everything is not okay. Everything has been awful.
But right now, in this moment, it feels perfect.

“I just needed to see that you're well. And it seems you are.”

I want to go to her so badly that I grip the car door to keep from running. As we stand there, refusing to look away, it's as if each of the past fourteen months is stripped away, one by one, and we're back in that New York alley kissing. Any progress I've made to separate us is ruined. I know it, and she knows it, because she's moving toward me, and she's mirroring the need I feel. She's stepping off the pavement and walking my way.

That's right, little Ann.

I'm finally going to touch her again. Then I'm going to get to the bottom of what's going on with this “traveling” business. I'll worry about the consequences later. Right now, Anna is mine.

I move to shut the door and go to her when I feel the itch of a tingle across my neck. My eyes flash to the gray winter sky and I'm blasted with a sight I recognize well.

Two whisperers.

“Fuck,” I whisper. I step back, and it kills me. Anna sees them and rushes between two cars, fear in her eyes. “Don't try to follow me,” I tell her, because it's just the kind of thing she'd do. “I'm going to the airport.” She nods her understanding that I'm not in town to stay, and her chin trembles.

My skin turns to ice in the cold air as I move to climb back into the car, leaving as quickly as I can, so as not to endanger her by being seen together.

That is why I cannot seek out Anna. Not even for a moment.

When I'm well enough away, I smack the steering wheel with my palms. I shout every obscenity I can at the top of my lungs. I rip my hat off and throw it on the floor.

We will never be safe. She can never be mine.

“The secret side of me I never let you see

I keep it caged but I can't control it, so stay away from me.”

—“Monster” by Skillet

S
eeing Anna, even briefly, gets me through the next few months, though I can't concentrate for shite. My nineteenth birthday comes and goes without a blip on the radar except a text from the twins and a pity call from Blake.

I've always gone through the motions of life, doing what needs to be done and putting on a good show, but I've stopped caring about the show now. I can't even lose myself in the drums anymore. I'm too busy wishing for something more. The band knows something's up with me, and I overhear them talking. They think I've become a cokehead or some shit. I don't bother correcting them.

In May I start to feel the itch. It's been three months since
I saw her, and I know her birthday's coming up. I need to hear from her, to get my fix.

I'm sitting at a bar with Michael, Bennett, and Raj. When I see a group of girls watching me, then making their move to come over, I take out my mobile and dial Marna. I hunch into myself a bit while I talk, and the girls don't approach. They wait.

“Where are you?” I ask when Marna answers.

“Scotland, my lad.” She sounds chipper.

“Any news?”

“Erm . . . no. Not really.”

“Not really?”

“I meant no. Just no.”

A prickle of apprehension heats my skin. “Are they still traveling together?”

“No.”

Before I can ask another question I hear my mates greeting someone loudly, and the voice of Anna Malone rings out behind me.

“Hey, Kai! You're coming tonight, right?”

“Who's that?” Marna asks in a rush. “Is it the other Anna?”

“Hush,” I say, turning to Anna. She's beaming at first, then cringes.

“Oh, sorry! Didn't know you were on the phone.” She smiles and covers her mouth, turning to the bartender for a drink.

“What a cow,” Marna mutters.

“Tell me what else you've heard, Marn.”

She pauses too long. “Like I said, nothing.”

My skin heats. As usual, I go for worst-case scenario. “Something's happened. Is anyone hurt?”

“No!”

Second-worst-case scenario. “Did they hook up?”

Marna pauses too long again, and this time pain alights along my skin as if I'm being eaten by fire ants. She lets out a fake laugh. “No . . . don't be silly.”

Marna is lying. She always pauses awkwardly before she lies.

“I've got to go.” I sound as deadly as I feel.

“Kaidan, wait!”

“You paused, Marna.” I let this sink in.

She sounds frantic. “Please, listen. It's not what you think.”

“It's exactly what I think.”

“No, I mean it. There was just one moment, one
tiny
kiss, but they're not—”

“
Stop
,” I whisper fiercely, squeezing my mobile. “I don't want to hear it.”

I can't believe this is happening. In this moment I acknowledge to myself that I always held out a small hope that Anna would never allow it to happen, no matter how much Kope pursued. But she gave in, and for all I know maybe they've been together all along and the news just now got to Marna. They might've even been together when I saw her in February, a thought that wrings my lungs of air.

Within a matter of seconds, I rebuild the walls around myself that Anna Whitt tore down. The I-don't-give-a-damn-about-anything walls. My jaw clenches and I sit up straighter.

I don't care.

I don't feel.

Nothing can touch me.

“Kai?” Marna whispers on the other end of the phone. I scarcely hear her.

Anna from work stands in front of me, staring down at her phone. Her aura is gray with disappointment and she lets out an “Ugh.”

“What's wrong?” I ask her. Marna tries to pipe up, and I say, “Not you, Marn. Hang on.” I put the phone to my shoulder and look at the frowning Anna.

“My roommate is coming home and doesn't feel good—she doesn't want any people over.” She pushes straight strands behind her ear.

A sickening sort of determination to prove just how much I don't care comes over me. “Brilliant,” I say. Anna's eyebrows come together in confusion until I say, “Party at my place, then.”

She slowly grins. “Really?” Her excitement makes my gut twist with nervous guilt, but I ignore it. I've put this girl off for too long. And for what reason? If my Anna is moving on . . . I shake my head. Not “my” Anna. She's never been mine.

Raj bounds over and slaps me on the shoulder. I put the phone back at my ear as word spreads that I'm having people over. My parties used to be epic, so the guys are stoked.

“Gotta go, Marn. Fun to be had.”

“Don't do it, Kai. It's not—”

“Bye, then.”

I hang up and my stomach turns. For the first time, I don't try to move away or escape when Anna talks to me, playfully
pushing my arm or slapping my knee. She can sense the difference. I see it in the way she's searching my face, wondering if I've finally seen the light.

Yes. Yes, I have. And it's blinding.

She's filled with happiness and excitement, bright and shining.

I give her my attention, but my chest is filled with a hive of stinging hornets.

We waste no time moving the festivities to my place, and soon it's overflowing with people. The party fills the whole apartment complex as neighbors open their doors and filter over. Music blasts from my speakers loud enough to shake the floors, just how I like it. Everywhere I look people are drunk, high, dancing, snogging, falling on one another, laughing. Anna sits between Raj and Bennett on the couch, playing a drinking game with cards.

I lean against the wall, watching as people drift past. My rage has not subsided. It's still in my eyes when Anna glances up and catches my gaze. She appears taken aback by the intensity there, her aura zapping with excitement and trepidation. Her guardian angel sees this and starts whispering to her. I want to tell the poor fellow not to waste his spiritual breath.

I raise two fingers and beckon her to me. Without a word to the other guys, Anna gets up and makes her way through the crowd, nervous but determined. They watch her. She stands before me now, breathing faster.

“What's up? Are you okay?”

“No, actually.”

“Um.” She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “So . . . what's wrong?”

I've told Anna on numerous occasions I don't date people I work with, that I'm not dating material anyhow, and that I've got loads of crap going on in my life. It has been enough to keep her at bay so far, and yet here she is.

“A lot is wrong with me, Anna. But I think you've figured that out by now, yeah?” My hand snakes around to the back of her neck, and I feel the light vibration of her breathy moan as I pull her closer. Her aura pops with shock and elation. My body is steady, but inside I'm shaking, driven by everything I refuse to feel.

“Can I . . . help you?” she asks.

“I think you can.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, I give my body permission to take over. My mouth covers hers. At the feel of her lips, months' worth of desire explodes through me. I back her roughly against the wall, and she grabs the back of my shirt in her fists. From across the room the entire band hollers their approval, but I can hardly hear.

I know I have to control myself, because I can and will hurt her if I don't. I break the kiss and take her by the hand, pulling her to my room. It's packed with people. I don't have the patience to wait for them to leave, so I pull her into the bathroom. She grabs my face the second the door is closed and we're kissing again. She doesn't protest when I pull off her shirt or strip down her jeans. And she definitely doesn't protest when I raise my own shirt over my head and drop it to the floor.

“Holy shit, Kai,” she breathes, running her hands over my chest and stomach. “You should just walk with your shirt off all the time.” Her eyes dart up to mine as if she's horrified she's just said that out loud. I kiss her again, but she keeps breaking the kiss to look at me, and kiss me again. For some reason I cannot take it—cannot stand being looked at right now. I turn her and press her against the bathroom door. It has the desired effect. Her palms are against the door, face turned to the side, hips pushing back against the front of me in a way that makes me grab her hips and groan.

I need more.

I reach around to her front and slide my hand down her stomach, and into her knickers. I use my other hand to hold her up, and it doesn't take long until she's squirming, moaning, out of breath, weak-kneed. I hold her up until she stills.

“I can't believe that just happened,” she whispers between breaths.

The scent of her lust surrounds us, and the familiar sensation of emptiness begins spreading through me.

She turns to me and takes my face again. I close my eyes and let her kiss me slowly. Suddenly, moisture builds behind my lids, and I have the powerful urge to cry. I've had moments of emotion lately, but I haven't truly had the urge to cry like this since I was a child. My throat is dangerously tight.

“Kai . . .” She whispers my name against my mouth, but I cannot open my eyes. Her hands move down my sides to the front of my jeans. She undoes them, and touches me with a gasp. My hands are on her waist and I tighten my grip.

“Anna . . .” When I say that name I'm far away, and the
saddest, most heart-wrenching sense of wrongness invades me. This is not who I want touching me. I can't do this.

I gently grab her wrist, and wrench the word from my throat. “Wait.”

I open my eyes and find her staring at me. I pull away, and with great effort manage to zip up my jeans. My abdomen clenches with a stab of pain.

“God,” she says. “I'm sorry, I . . . What's wrong?” Her voice quivers. I lean my forehead against hers because she's such a sweet girl and she doesn't deserve to be dragged into my train wreck of a life.

In that horrible moment I know that no lie or feeble excuse will do. I clear my throat and stand straight to look at her.

“Last year, when I moved here.” I clear my throat again. “I . . . there was a girl. In Georgia. She's sort of . . .” I am tongue-tied, having never spoken these feelings out loud.

“You love her?”

I search the wall over her head before I nod. “Yeah. And her name is also Anna.”

“Oh.” She snorts and crosses her arms, looking down. “No wonder.”

“I'm sorry. I had an awful day and I'm an absolute idiot to have put you in the middle of it.”

She shakes her head. “No, it's . . . whatever. No biggie.” But her aura says otherwise.

She reaches for her jeans and I hand her her shirt. I snatch up my own and pull it over my head. As she's buttoning her bottoms with shaking hands I reach for the door.

“You're an amazing girl, Anna Malone. I truly am sorry.”

Her eyes are watering when she looks up at me just before I leave her. I push my way through the crowded apartment. At the couch I ignore the jeers of my mates, and shake my head at Raj's offer to do a line of coke. Instead, I lean down and swipe Bennett's pack of cigarettes and leave the apartment. I walk all night and smoke the entire pack. I will spend the day tomorrow hacking up tar, but I don't care.

I just don't care anymore.