Courting Darkness (25 page)

Her head was spinning, her heart ached—whether from seeing the pain and self-loathing reflected in his amber eyes, or the actualization of the depths his betrayal ran, she couldn’t be sure. But the one thing she was certain of, no matter what he’d done, no matter what the reason, her heart still loved him. Her soul still wanted him. But just as strongly, her will wanted her memory back.

“I’m not the same angel you fell in love with three and a half years ago, Olivia.”

His confession tore her heart out. She climbed to her knees and leaned against his back. His grip on her wrist remained unwavering, as if he thought she’d pull away the moment he released her. With her free hand, she turned his clenched jaw toward her.

“Maybe you’re not, Liam. But you know what I do remember? I remember the look on your face when you showed up in my dressing room minutes before I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life. I remember the pain and heartache in your eyes—pain I put there. I’m not so ignorant as to sit here and pretend to be blameless in all this. I made mistakes, too. I’ve hurt you, but unfortunately, you don’t have the luxury of forgetting. I want my memories back—all of them, the good and the bad. I want to remember every mistake I’ve made so I don’t make them again. I want to remember how much you love me and what you’ve sacrificed to keep me alive, because I know that cost has been great. I want to be with you—and I want you to know that nothing will ever change that.”

Leaning closer, she brushed her lips against the tight seam of his and whispered, “Can you help me? There must be something that can be done.” She kissed him again, and this time his mouth softened to her oral caress. She teasingly nipped his bottom lip when he wouldn’t part them for her tongue. Perhaps he was still contemplating her request, perhaps he needed more convincing—she wasn’t above a little coercion.

“The court refuses to lift the veil, Olivia, and I cannot because I’m no longer bonded to you.”

She kissed the hard angle of his jaw and slowly dragged her teeth down his neck. “So nothing can be done? There’s no other way?” She brushed a kiss against the rapid tick of his pulse, sucking against the sensitive flesh.

A strangled groan of restraint rumbled in his chest as his head tipped to the side, giving her full access to his throat. “There might be a way. Bloody hell, I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”

“Let go of my wrist, Liam.”

She nipped his collarbone when he didn’t comply right away, and a soft chuckle chortled in his throat. “You’re a handful, you know that?” he scolded lovingly.

Moving lower, she caught the flesh of his peck between her teeth and grinned triumphantly as she glanced up to see his sapphire gaze locked on hers with a heated intensity that warned her she was testing the limits of his restraint. With a challenging arch of his brow, his grip eased, and she pulled her hand free.

“Oh, I’m more than a handful,” she teased, placing a kiss to the bite mark and slipping around his side. Straddling his lap, she planted her palms against his chest and pushed him back onto the mattress.

Before she could slide down his deliciously hard body and reacquaint herself with every muscular peak and chiseled plane, his hands circled her waist and he toppled her beneath him. Capturing her breast in his hand, he trapped the peak between his thumb and index finger, applying just enough pressure to rip a startled gasp of pleasure from her throat.

“If I do this…if I help you get your memory back, know it has nothing to do with this. I cannot be teased or cajoled into compliance, Olivia. I am not a weak-willed man who can be seduced or manipulated. Our bed will remain pure of treachery. I want you coming to me free from guile or not at all. Do you understand?”

Her breath caught in her throat as his thumb crested the sensitive peak—a jolt of electricity sparking an ache deep in her core. She realized too little, too late how her eagerness to get him back into bed might have looked—admittedly, she’d aggressed him with an ulterior motive. His intuitiveness surprised her, his transparency impressed her, and his dominance between the sheets excited the hell out of her. Until she got her memory back—which she hoped would be very soon—she was going to enjoy falling in love with him all over again.

Sitting at the bar across from his motel, Haden was eight beers into his drunk when someone brushed against his shoulder. The action was deliberate, and he automatically stiffened in response to the unsolicited contact. Not bothering to turn around, he drew in a slow, deep breath, scenting his uninvited neighbor, and was immediately assaulted with the sickly-sweet scent of cheap perfume. It wasn’t so strong to offend his senses, nor did he find it particularly appealing. He preferred the natural scent of a woman, vanilla-jasmine, more specifically, which seemed to be his drug of choice these days.

Movement to his left caught the corner of his eye as the woman helped herself onto the seat beside him. She was either ignorant or brave as hell, walking into a place like this without the protection of a male. Did she have any idea she’d just sat her ass down in a demon bar? Should he tell her? Nah…fuck it.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he cocked his head to get a better look at her. The woman was tall, thin, but fully-figured. Her raven hair hung past her shoulders, but wasn’t as long as Olivia’s. That he was sitting here comparing her to the female burned his ass like a seat of hot coals. The woman wore a form-fitting black party dress with thin spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline—something Olivia wouldn’t be caught dead in.

Olivia had an amazing body, yet still soft in all the right places, but the female never dressed to flaunt her many assets, unlike the chika sitting beside him. He was pretty sure if this woman bent over, her tits would fall right out of that dress. A band of hot pink sequins tooled a design beneath them. She wore hot pink lipstick to match her hot pink nail polish and matching pumps. As he slowly took in the view next to him, it was disappointing to see the similarities to Olivia ended with her hair color. But, she was still fuckable, so what the hell.

Haden flashed her a grin that, if the woman had any sense at all, would send her running for the doors.

“Hey…” she purred, her throaty voice suggesting she should have given up the cigarettes years ago. “Care to buy a lady a drink?”

He arched his brow at her assumptive suggestion she was one.
Of all the names running through his mind, “lady” had failed to make the list. “What are you drinking?”

“What are you buyin’?”

Just then, the bartender passed by, and Haden waved him over. “I’ll take another beer and she’ll have Tequila shots with lime. Leave the bottle.” He slapped a hundred down on the table. Even though this piece of ass may not look like Olivia, he’d make damn sure she tasted like her. As the woman downed the shot and pushed the lime wedge into her mouth, she sucked the juice from the rind like a pro, leaving him zero doubt about her oral skills. Yeah, he could make do.

His own attempt to take matters into his own hands, so to speak, had been a failed attempt at purging Olivia from his system. Perhaps he could fuck her out. Haden downed his beer, slammed his empty on the bar, and reached for the woman, sliding his hand around the back of her neck. Yanking her close, he pressed his mouth against those hot pink lips and thrust his tongue past her teeth, tasting the familiar tequila/lime blend.
Close enough…

“Come on…” he growled, grabbing her wrist with one hand and snatching the bottle with the other. Haden slid off the stool and dragged the female along behind him. “Let’s get out of here.”

She gave no protest and as they crossed the street to head back to his motel, the woman’s heels
click-clacking
against the asphalt as she jogged to keep up with him. When they reached the door, he took a pull from the bottle before handing it to the woman and dug his keycard out of his pocket. The woman followed him inside, stumbling over the metal ridge in the doorway. Perhaps she would have seen the step if the bottle wasn’t glued to her over-ripe lips. She was sucking down the amber booze like water.

When the lush finally pulled the bottle away from her lips, she slurred, “My name’s Tracy,” the residual burn of the Tequila deepening her smoky voice.

Not tonight it isn’t.

Grabbing the bottle from her, he took one last chug before setting it on the table beside the bed. Too intoxicated to be mindful of slowing his movements, he pulled the woman into his arms and backed her against the door with preternatural speed. The woman gave a startled gasp as she connected solidly with the oak panel.

The faintest hint of bitter almonds filled the air, cutting through his lust-drunk haze. Being mindful to temper his pace or risk scaring off the easy lay he desperately needed right now, Haden murmured an apology and a platitude of lies that sadly, if spoken to Olivia, would have been the God’s honest truth.

The female soaked it up and in seconds became putty in his hands. Inhaling the scent of her tequila-soaked breath, he took her mouth with a pent up passion that seethed beneath his skin. Desire burned through the pit of his stomach, driving his primal need for release.

Running his hands up the woman’s skirt, he gripped her ass and lifted her up. Right on cue, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he turned and carried her to the bed. Dumping her onto the mattress, he yanked off his shirt and grabbed the bottle, taking another drink as the woman scooted out of her dress. With bottle in hand, Haden crawled onto the bed, poured a trail of liquor from the woman’s breasts, down her stomach, and between her legs. She gasped in surprise and then giggled as the amber liquid sluiced over her bare flesh. As he bent his head, taking the first sip from her navel, tongue delving into her flesh, that husky feminine laugh quickly turned into a moan of pleasure.

He drank from her, savoring the peppery sting that blended into an earthy, vanilla-smooth flavor as the tequila passed his throat. And when the bottle was empty, he took her body, over and over again. He took the woman in every way he’d imagined sating himself in another female that shall remain nameless—until sometime during the night, exhaustion finally claimed him.

Chapter Nineteen

The thing about one night stands was that morning always came, and this one arrived with a lot of what-the-fuck-did-I-just-do? Haden was supporting the mother of all hangovers. Note to self: drinking a bottle of tequila off a woman’s naked body—bad damn idea, his heartbeat hammering the spike of regret into his brain. His cotton-mouth tasted of stale booze and used whore, an unpleasant combination that put getting to the complimentary toothbrush and toothpaste at the top of his to-do list. A close second, getting this woman the hell out of his bed. He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet and already those bastards were burning—add a little sunlight to this sitch and he was going to be one miserable mother fuc—

“Hey, you’re awake.”

Shit…

“I was wondering how long you were going to sleep.”

He tried to swallow, but the arid click of his throat told him that wasn’t happening.

“What—” he rasped. Bloody hell, his voice broke like he was entering his second puberty or something. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “What time is it?”

He cracked open an eye to find his bed buddy a foot from his face, lying on her side and watching him with rapt fascination. She grinned cheerfully and took his hand, interlocking their fingers. The gesture was nothing more than a painful reminder of another female he’d woken up next to just yesterday. Then again, what didn’t remind him of Olivia these days? Before he could shake the female loose, she slid her free arm over his chest and a leg across his.

“It’s a little after noon,” she purred, snuggling her breasts against his shoulder.

Sticky from dried booze, the female’s skin abraded his flesh, irritating his overly acute senses that were quickly breaking through his hangover. She reeked of tequila, sex and cheap perfume—a nasty combination that sent a wave of repulsion crashing against the shore of self-disgust. How he could have ever put Olivia and this woman in the same league blew his mind, an unfortunate gut-check as to what a good pair of beer goggles could do for ya.

Her hand skimmed down his stomach and slipped beneath the sheets, boldly clutching the arousal that wasn’t meant for her.

“Mmm…I’m thinking we should spend the day right here.”

I’m thinking not a bloody chance in hell.

Her breath still carried the tang of cigarette smoke, something he’d never been able to tolerate after growing up in Sheol. The woman’s hand began moving and he grabbed her wrist, halting her mid-stroke, but the damn stubborn female wouldn’t let go. “Listen, Trixie—”

Her brows jerked together in a scowl that should have warned him he was entering dangerous female territory. The glower she was laying on him right now would have sent a mortal man’s balls shrinking for cover.