Eluding Nirvana (The Dark Evoke Series Book 2) (2 page)

Although my head was caught somewhere between cursing the rich punter to Hell and praying he would leave us alone, I found myself smiling politely. “It’s our two year anniversary, so we’re celebrating.”

“Oh, wow,” he sounded
stunned and he looked it, too, with his black eyes widening and, well, I would have said his eyebrows meeting his hairline, but he was bald as a coot. Extending an arm to Liam, he offered his congratulations. Silent and making no attempt in reciprocating the gesture, Liam simply responded with a glare, and I swear if he was telekinetic, he would have strangled the poor man with his ruby colored tie. Jerome turned his attention back to me. “I was wondering if you’re working Friday night.”

“That I am, Jerome. That I am.” I took a sip of the pink champagne which left a lingering taste of strawberries on my pallet
and bubbles tickling my nose.

Black eyes glistened like black sapphires
, while his mouth curled into a knowing and satisfied grin. “Great, I’ll come in for my usual.” I nodded my acknowledgement as he turned on his heel and muttered, “See you, Friday, girl.” And I was left pondering whether the tall, muscular black-man could have made that statement sound any seedier.

Emotions I felt that night
sitting opposite my lover, in the most notable restaurant in town, losing myself in his loving gaze as we celebrated this monumental bridge in our relationship, and which would hopefully bring about a climatic result when we got home, took a nosedive. Love, joy and excitement curdled into embarrassment and anxiety. I hooked my hair behind my ears. Liam glowering at me was something I couldn’t fare with. Not if we weren’t having angry sex anyway. And sex was something, angry or not, that we hadn’t had in several weeks. And I was sexually frustrated beyond all comprehension.

“Liam, please.
Stop looking at me like that.” With a crumpling brow and my lips forming a firm line, I eventually surrendered to a full-on, sullen pout before taking another sip of the fizzy liquid, in an eager attempt to drown the additional serving of guilt which was flooding my system. He was making that night so perfect, spoiling me rotten, being as loving as Liam DeLaney could be, and one of my punters had just gatecrashed it.

“I’ve had it, Kady. I can’t keep doing this.”

I lowered the flute onto the white linen cloth, while shaking my head and shrugged my shoulders, completely baffled.

“Kady, the first time a guy approached you regarding work, I was fine with. The second, third and fourth, I’ll admit, I found a little hot, knowing that they could only look and I was the lucky bastard that got to touch. But enough is enough.”

“What does that mean?” I gasped, slighted.

Focusing his livid gaze on the empty plates before us, he scoured his hand over his mouth
. “Kady,” he peeked up, holding me with hard eyes. “We haven’t had sex for weeks because I am feeling physically sick knowing that all those men, including that Jerome guy, are going home and knocking one off while fantasizing about
my
girlfriend’s ass grinding up against them, and her tits being shoved in their face, counting down the fucking days until they get to actually,
physically
experience
my
fucking girl doing that to them.”

I
was sitting overlooking the table where we’d begun a life together and journeyed through two years side-by-side, and I was completely dumbstruck, flabbergasted by his omission. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know he was being affected that badly. Two years, and I still continued to work Red Velvet without any regard to how he felt. A part of me felt terrible.

“I’m done
with it, Kady,” he flailed his head and spoke in earnest. “You can’t expect me to continue like this.”

“Liam,” I murmured over the violins
which were being played a few tables over. “Am I ashamed of what I do? Yes, I am.” The nodding of my head swiftly became a faint shake. “But I can’t just quit. I make more money in a night than what some people make in a week.”

“For the love of fucking, God, Kady,”
he reprimanded and I instantly recoiled at his harshness. God he was severely pissed at me. I swore I could see his breath rising in steamy clouds as he blew out of his nose, his mouth hard. I’d never seen him so angry before. He looked like a raging bull in a china shop. I knew in that moment, it was something I wouldn’t care to see again. “Fuck the money, Kady. Do you want us to go back to how we were?”

“Yes,” I replied without hesitation
, because if there was one wish I could’ve had granted, it would be to reclaim the passion which had bound us since the beginning.

“Then choose.”
I watched his mouth upturn scornfully and the power behind his voice had my brow, once again, creased for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, as he presented me with his ultimatum. “Come on, baby,” his tone softened as he rose from his seat and drew it to my side. When he lowered himself back into the velvet, my hands were promptly clutched in a clam-like grasp. His eyes softened substantially, matching the timbre of his voice. “Remember the passion? The need and want?” Dropping his head, his breath tickled my face as he resumed his, DeLaney Persuasion. “I miss taking you however I can get you. The moans and groans I can draw from your lips.”

His words were
gradually killing me and my resolve. The rasping vibrations which penetrated my flesh, connecting with me on a deep, needy level, made me squirm in my seat and cross my legs.

“I miss making you come, knowing tha
t you’re mine, knowing that I’m the only one who gets to see you vulnerable
like
that
, and knowing I’m the one
to
make
you vulnerable like that.” My eye were searched, my silent contemplations hunted by the intensity of his gaze. “We can have it all back, Kady baby. Just say the word. Make me happy.”

Make him happy? He was my boyfriend; I wanted nothing more than to do just that. I drank in a breath before
slipping my hand from his and taking a mouthful of liquid courage, disguising itself as a $300 bottle of pink champagne. “And we go back to normal? If I do this, we go back to how we were?” I questioned after swallowing, my upper lip curled slightly.

The
grip around my lingering hand tightened. Smiling, he nodded his response.

“Okay,” I
resigned. “Okay, Liam. I’ll quit Red Velvet.”

My hair was fisted as his hand threaded through my large, bouncing curls, holding the back of my head as he
wrenched me closer. His mouth crashed down onto mine, his tongue cool from the alcohol and slightly bitter from the Key Lime Pie, as he swept it through my mouth and over my lips. A groan was torn from my throat as he pulled his lips away, and braced our foreheads against each other. “Those groans I draw from you…” he breathed, an element of desire and approval went unveiled in his tone, while tightly screwed eyes enhanced the faint creases from their corners.

“I hope you’ll
draw more from me tonight, Liam,” I flirted.

Cool
air eradicated his warmth and bonded to my brow, when he freed himself from me, leaving me feeling somewhat bereft while his large hand cradled my face. I leaned into his caress, while his eyes bored a fucking void in my mind. “You have no idea, baby…” He shook his head shrewdly, his mouth giving way to that haughty, conceited smirk that I loved so damn much. “You have no, fucking idea.”

After settling the bill, Liam p
roffered his hand, and with a beam to rival the Cheshire cat, I unthinkingly slipped my hand into his warm possession, our fingers locking as he led us out into the chilly nightly breeze. The weight of the world had seemingly been removed from his shoulders as he gazed down at me. I suppose, in a way it had. My conceding to his wishes had made him happy, and regardless of losing sometimes anything up to $900 a night, knowing that it was my answer and my decision to grant his wish, had me feeling like I was in Seventh Heaven.

Smooth flesh
of his mouth united with the back of my hand when he planted a kiss on my knuckles. Into his body I stepped, and despite the fact I was in heels, I rose onto my toes to eliminate the good five inches which was looming above me, to meet his lips. “Take me home, Mr. DeLaney,” I requested with seductive purpose.

I didn’t need to ask twice.

The hard muscle of his burly thigh was warm and tempting beneath my hand. Fingers roamed subtly into his inner thigh, tracing his inner seam, and up to the decadent bulge which lay beneath his black suit pants. “Eyes back on the road, Mr. DeLaney, you’ll get us both killed,” I chided with a roguish arch of a perfectly threaded eyebrow, when he shot me a hungry stare.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he sighed, turning his attention back to the busy road ahead. “How about we go to the movies tomorrow night?” he asked on his next breath.

Tomorrow would be Thursday. I knew I told him I would quit Red Velvet, but even so, I couldn’t just walk out. I had to give Benny notice. I’d worked there for three years, built relationships with the workforce, and the man who gave me a chance, deserved the level of respect which I was going to reward him with.

“I’ve got work tomorrow, Liam.”

The growl which left him as he whipped his head to face me, in conjunction with slamming on the breaks, had me both recoiling and being thrown forward, the seatbelt burning as it tightened against my neck. “What?”

“Liam, I am quitting, I just need to hand in my notice. I can’t leave them hanging high and dry.”

“What, like the sleaze balls who go to those places to be left hanging after my girl cock teases them?” he berated, regardless of my recoiling or the reasoning of my answer.

My stomach sank to the deepest depths of the sea, and the crease in my brow had followed suit. “Liam, please, I’m being reasonable––”

“Reasonable? Fucking reasonable?” he yelled. I didn’t appreciate how fast his tone of voice and demeanor, was making my heart beat in…well, in something I didn’t wish to consider my boyfriend baiting in me. “Do you even have a fucking heart in that chest, Kady?” His pointed finger climbed from my chest up to my temple. “Do you even have a fucking brain in there? Hello?” I battered his assaulting hand away from my head and rubbed my temple in an attempt to sooth the pressure which lingered on the surface. A rushed stabbing, sensation shot through my head thanks to the brute force he issued with his reproach.

“Liam, please, stop this,” I implored, all the while the click of the
seatbelt buckle release sounded through the BMW. His arm stretched across my middle as he pulled the release for the door. What the fuck was he doing? “Liam…?” I drew his name out with greatest caution.

“Get out.”

“Liam, please,”––my hands made their way to frame his gorgeously handsome face which was rapidly being taken over by The Devil himself––“We can talk about this.” Nevertheless, my supplicant, peacemaking hands were hit away as he shouted repeatedly for me to get out. It was him, finally shoving me from the car that had me forfeiting to his outlandish demand.

“And you will stay out there until you can respect me and my
requests, and learn to have some fucking empathy,” he pointed a disdainful finger out of the opened window, like he was scolding an untrained puppy. The bystanders of Dorchester launched their quizzical, prying stares upon hearing his escalating voice booming from the car.

“But, Liam––
” I wrapped my arms around my chest in a feeble attempt to shield my inappropriately clothed body of the December chill. I sniffed back my tears and choked on a sob. “I’m cold.”

Head held high, eyes wide with a loose grin on his smoothly shaven block jaw, he looked almost satisfie
d, while he shook his head, insensitive. “I don’t care, Kady,” were the last words spoken before the window went up, and the black BMW pulled off at speed, the tires screeching as he fled.

Cars d
arted past, inquisitive people stopped to stare, and one even walked into a streetlamp as he gawked at the spectacle. Being physically ejected from Liam’s car had made me feel like a cheap whore, and I would have bet my life that any viewers would have strung the, ‘whore with an unhappy punter’ assumption, together.

Overlapping
my right arm across my body, I grasped the top of my left arm, as it hung tensed, down the span of my body, pressing my floating black mini skirt against my legs to stop the breezes intention of whipping it up and exposing me physically. I already felt exposed emotionally.

For a Wednesday night the streets of Dorchester were surprisingly bustling.
I meandered on autopilot, taking my time to deliberate in my dazed state, what exactly had just happened, through the masses.

I found w
hat hurt the most, was his lack of humanity. Who in their right state of mind, would repeatedly and brutally, press against their partner’s temple in anger just to prove a point? Dammit, who the fuck would physically shove them out of the car, in the middle of December, wearing a miniskirt and knee-high boots, without a fucking jacket, to walk home at night, alone? The fire which burned in the depths of his eyes and mounted to the surface, the tensing of his jaw, even the disgusted glower he aimed at me, it all revolved around my mind as I made my way through the streets, passing a guy sitting on a wall corner muttering in hushed voices to, who I could have only have speculated, was a man who needed his nightly fix.