A Million Tiny Pieces (32 page)

“Why
would he think that I even matter?”

“Did
you
see
the pictures in the article?” Tarik asked. He had, and they
certainly depicted the three of them in a very different light. They’d
reflected an intimacy that was hard to capture. And if he had to guess, that
was something Damien wasn’t used to seeing. Ex-wife or not, the bastard was
selfish, and if he thought another man was after her, his territorial side was
going to come out.

Unfortunately,
the bastard hadn’t considered Phoenix’s territorial side, never mind Tarik’s.
As far as Tarik knew, no one was insinuating they were all three in a
relationship. At least not together. The article had danced around the picture
of the three of them holding hands and had briefly mentioned him and Phoenix
together, although he knew more of that nonsense was probably coming. But he
didn’t give a shit about what people said or thought about him. He’d given up
on that years ago. His parents had been bad enough, ensuring he knew that no
one actually cared about him. Tarik had carried that with him, and the
don’t-give-a-shit attitude had rooted deep in his soul.

“What
now?” Mia asked as they made their way back to the street that would lead to
the condos.

“I’m
thinking a movie sounds just about perfect right now,” Phoenix stated. “At my
place.”

“As
long as you have popcorn, I’ll follow you anywhere,” Mia said happily.

Tarik
liked her resilience. She truly did have an optimistic outlook, which was
refreshing. He just hoped they could keep her out of the line of fire in the
coming days. Knowing what Damien Landry was capable of, Tarik figured it was
going to get worse before it got better.

MIA
WOULD’VE BEEN content to spend the rest of the evening right there, reclining
on the black leather sofa in Phoenix’s living room, watching the sun as it
slowly slid behind the buildings, listening to Imagine Dragons drifting through
the speakers that were hidden somewhere that she’d yet to find.

After
they’d returned to Phoenix’s condo, he’d excused himself when his phone had
rung, which had disappointed her somewhat, but after hearing the frustration in
his tone, she’d known he was talking business. So, instead of worrying about
him, she’d sat down, and shortly thereafter, Tarik had joined her, pulling her
against him until they were lying down. They had foregone the movie in lieu of
watching the day pass minute by minute. At some point, she must’ve fallen
asleep because the room wasn’t nearly as bright as it had been earlier, and
that was when she realized Tarik was still there, his eyes closed, his breaths
slow and even. She assumed he was asleep, so she tried not to move.

When
the song changed, switching over to “Sleep To Dream Her” by Dave Matthews Band,
Mia listened closely, trying to see if Phoenix was still there. She didn’t hear
him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t somewhere close.

“He
went down to talk to his mother,” Tarik muttered quietly, a sleepy rasp to his
voice.

So
he wasn’t asleep.

“Everything
okay?” she questioned, hoping nothing had happened.

“Yeah.
She’s just worried about this shit with Landry. He’s trying to calm her down.”

Mia
pushed up onto her arm. She was wedged between Tarik’s body and the cushions on
the back of the sofa, her leg strewn across Tarik’s, her hand resting on his
chest. She’d been comfortable like that, but her muscles were starting to
tighten, a suggestion that she should move.

Tarik
obviously realized what she was doing, because he shifted to his side, facing
her and pulling her so that she was on her back, his body partly covering her.

“You
slept for a while,” he said.

“How
long?”

“About
three hours.”

“Really?”
she hadn’t realized she’d been that tired. Then again, she did enjoy a nice
Sunday afternoon nap from time to time.

“Did
you
sleep?” she asked, her gaze slowly sliding down to his mouth.

Mia
wondered if he would kiss her. She
hoped
he would kiss her.

“For
a little while.” His golden eyes darkened slightly, and she felt the insistent
press of his erection against her hip.

“You
should’ve woken me up,” she whispered, her stomach tightening when his hand
slid up to it, slipping beneath her shirt.

“I
thought about it. I thought about a lot of things while you slept.”

“Like?”
Her inner temperature began a steady climb as his hand roamed over her skin,
the gentle abrasion making her nerve endings spark and sizzle.

“Like
what it’s like to bury myself inside you. So deep.” The rough rasp of his tone
made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, chills working their way down
her spine.

“What’s
it like?” she asked, lifting her arms up over her head when he pushed her shirt
up higher, exposing her black bra to his hungry gaze.

“Heaven,”
he muttered as he leaned down and pressed his lips to her chest, licking
downward between her breasts.

Mia
pushed her chest up, trying to get closer to him. The hand he had on her
stomach remained there, holding her in place. His other hand gripped her
wrists, holding them above her head as he continued to lick her. She could feel
the heat of his mouth through the thin, silky material of her bra.

“Tarik.
Oh, God.” She wasn’t sure what she was trying to say, but the words spilled out
as he used his mouth to torment her.

“We
should get you naked,” he said, lifting his head and snagging her gaze.

“We
should,” she agreed, getting lost in the heat in his eyes. The intensity she
felt there ignited a blaze inside her, one that quickly started burning
brighter and hotter.

If
she hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought their clothes had just dissolved.
Tarik stripped them both quickly, wasting no time. He was even prepared,
donning a condom that he retrieved from his wallet before joining her on the
sofa once more, this time kneeling between her thighs.

“You’re
just lucky I got your clothes off first,” he mumbled against her lips, clearly
reading her mind.

“I’m
glad you did,” she said, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him closer,
feeling the strength in his powerful body, the heat that caressed her from
chest to knee. Digging her nails into his back, she pulled him to her, her
mouth reaching for his.

Their
tongues skimmed as his fingers slid into her already slick folds. She moaned
against his mouth, pushing her hips up to meet his exploring hands, desperate
to feel him inside her. Luckily, he didn’t make her wait before his thick
length was pressing against her entrance.

“Oh,
God,” she moaned softly. “Oh, yes.” He felt so good as he made his way inside
her. He stretched her so deliciously, her body ready for him as he eased in
deep, his hips stilling, leaving her aching for more.

“Mia,”
he breathed against her mouth. “Love.”

Mia
forced her eyes open to look up at him. What she saw on his face had her heart
wrenching in her chest. There was so much emotion right there for her to see,
she wanted to throw out a net and capture it, to pull it into her so she could
hold on to it forever.

His
hips began a leisurely grind as his lips brushed hers softly. Slow and deep,
Tarik made love to her in a way she hadn’t known possible. She felt him so deep
she was sure he had penetrated her soul. Her hands slid up and down his back as
she scrambled to hold on, to ground herself, because she was quickly losing
herself to this man, losing herself in his gaze, the way he searched her face
as though looking for the same thing he was offering.

She
wasn’t sure if he saw it, but she knew it was there. Right there in that
moment, Mia felt some of the remnants of her once-shattered heart mend, pulling
together and intertwining with pieces of him.

“Oh,
Mia,” Tarik said quietly, his hand cradling her head, his nose brushing hers as
his hips dipped and retreated, driving him deeper into her.

“Tarik.”
His name came out on a strangled moan as her body began to float, every cell,
every nerve ending tingling as her climax grabbed hold.

“That’s
it, baby.” Tarik’s thumb brushed her cheek as his hips thrust forward. “That’s
it. Come for me.”

His
words were but a whisper in the darkened room.

Mia
pressed upward to meet each delicious thrust as he increased the pace. He was
driving deeper, an exquisite plunge of his hips causing him to hit her G-spot,
making it impossible to hold on.

“Mia.
Baby, I’m gonna come.” He breathed against her lips as her body hummed, her
muscles tightening, the tingling igniting into an inferno inside her as it
began to trickle outward, making the hair on her arms stand up.

“Tarik,”
she whispered, not wanting him to let her go, because she knew she was about to
shatter, and she wasn’t sure, when this was over, that she was going to be the
same person she had been before. It felt… “Oh, God, Tarik.”

A
strangled cry escaped her as she thrust her head back, her body bowing as her
orgasm ripped through her.

Tarik’s
hips pressed forward, retreated, then again and again before he erupted, a
muffled roar escaping him as he pressed his mouth against her neck.

Mia
didn’t move, didn’t breathe as she tried to take stock of herself. She wasn’t
sure she was still in one piece. But what surprised her most was that it didn’t
scare her.

Not
yet, anyway.

»»»»»♥«««««

TARIK
SOMEHOW MANAGED to get them both cleaned up and dressed and back on the couch
even though his head was still reeling from what just happened.

Now,
he wasn’t some sort of fucking pussy who had sex with a woman and thought he
saw stars and shit, but something had just happened. Something that had never
happened to him before. Not with a man or a woman. What had transpired between
him and Mia in those few minutes was … earth-shattering. So completely
different from anything he’d known, including his time with Phoenix — although
that had altered his life in an entirely different way.

The
fact of the matter was that Tarik felt something for both of them. Although it
was equally strong, it was still different. In a good way. Just like they were
different from one another in so many ways.

“You
okay?” Mia asked as they lay on the sofa once more in the same position they’d
been in before he’d found himself buried to the hilt inside her, losing a part
of himself.

“Never
better,” he told her as he stared up at the ceiling. He watched the large
circle of golden light from the small lamp beside his head that shone some
twenty feet above them, but he didn’t really see anything.

“Can
I ask you something?”

“Sure.”
Tarik knew Mia well enough to know that what was about to come out of her mouth
was going to be a question that would make him uncomfortable. He braced
himself.

“What
happened between your mother and father?”

He
wasn’t surprised by her curiosity. He’d already told her that his father had
killed his mother, so he’d expected her to want to know what had happened. And
it wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about it, to share with her, he just
didn’t know how.

“It’s
okay if you don’t want to,” Mia said, and Tarik realized he hadn’t bothered to
say anything for a minute or two.

“My
parents met in high school,” he began, not knowing where else to start. “My dad
was a senior, my mother a sophomore. From the bits and pieces of conversations
I overheard, neither of them were popular, both from relatively poor families.
She was the nerdy type, he was the bad boy. Typical high school crush. One
thing led to another, and they had me. She was sixteen when I was born, and her
father threw her out.”

“Where
did the name Tarik come from?” Mia questioned.

“My
father was part Egyptian,” he explained. “My mother picked out the name,
originally intrigued by his heritage. He, of course, hadn’t given a shit.
Anyway, for whatever reason, my father decided to marry her, probably more out
of guilt than anything. He graduated, but my mother dropped out of high school
before I was born.

“They
hated each other. Detested the mere sight of one another. Always fighting. And
I don’t mean a screaming match. They were violent with one another and with me.
Throwing things, hitting each other, tearing shit up. We moved so much, always
evicted. If it wasn’t for not paying the rent, they were thrown out for
vandalism. I think I changed schools every year through grade school. I guess
one day things went too far.”

Tarik
remembered the day he’d come home from school to find his mother on the kitchen
floor, her head at an odd angle, blood pooling beneath her, the fireplace poker
lying beside her.

“Honestly,
I was surprised it had taken that long before one of them was killed. I was a
freshman in high school. We lived in Houston, and we’d just moved into a
shitty-ass apartment in another crappy neighborhood. I came home from school
one day and found my mother in a pool of blood on the kitchen floor, my father
sitting in the living room, his head in his hands as he stared at the floor. I
don’t think he was shocked, either. Cause of death was blunt trauma to the
head. He’d hit her with a fireplace tool.”

“Oh,
my God, Tarik,” Mia whispered, the top of her head burrowing closer to his
neck, her cheek on his chest.

He
allowed her warmth to seep into him as he fought the chill that still lived
inside him. There was a hollow spot encasing the memories of his parents. He
didn’t have any feelings for them one way or another. He wasn’t sure he ever
had.

“It
was eerily calm as I dialed 911, then gave the operator the address, explaining
what I saw. My father never budged from his chair until the police arrived. He
went willingly, never saying a word.”

“Do
you see him?” she asked.

“No.
I’ve never visited him in prison, didn’t go to the hearings. I didn’t care.
Still don’t. They might’ve fulfilled their parental obligation of feeding and
clothing me, making sure I had a bed to sleep in, which was usually just a
blanket on the floor, but I never felt any love from them.”

“What
about your grandparents? Did they take you in?”

“No.
My parents had severed ties with both their families and not on good terms. I
think they figured I was more of a nuisance than anything. I didn’t know any of
them at that point.”

Tarik
wrapped his arm around Mia when she sobbed against him. He’d never cried for
his parents. Not once. Without any family to take him in, Tarik had been taken
by the state and placed in foster care. He’d gone through the motions from
there, never getting close enough to one family to worry about having feelings
for them. When he was old enough, he’d moved to Austin, wanting to get away
from the reminders of them, wanting to start anew.