“What the hell is he doing here?”
I jump at the sound of Blake’s voice. From the look in Pierce’s wide eyes, he’s just as shocked to see Blake as Blake is to see him.
“I stopped by to give her a Christmas present,” Pierce answers for me.
“Fuck off, Stanley. You’ve caused enough trouble as it is.” Blake’s chest rubs against my shoulder, but I don’t dare look back.
“Me?” Pierce shouts, stepping closer so I’m wedged between them. “Look at yourself, Stone. You wouldn’t know the truth if it hit you in the ass.” He looks back down at me. “Did you ask him about her yet?”
I nod, throwing my hands up in the air. “Will you guys please stop? This is ridiculous, and yes, Pierce, he told me about your sister.”
He looks like I slapped him. That wasn’t my intention. I look over my shoulder at Blake, recognizing the familiar fire in his eyes. “Give me two seconds.”
He doesn’t budge. “I’m not going anywhere,” I mouth, hoping only he can hear me.
Blake steps back. “I’m only going to warn you once. Stay away from her.”
I watch Blake disappear into the apartment before turning my attention back to Pierce. The boyish grin he wore a few minutes ago is gone. He’s pissed or confused—maybe both.
“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can say.
“When did he come back?”
“He was here Friday when I got home.”
He flinches. It was the same night he dropped me off. If things were different, if Blake hadn’t come home when he did and opened up, this could all be different. I know it . . . he knows it.
“And now everything’s all better again?”
Tears well in my eyes. “Love allows us to forgive a lot of things.”
He spins around, hands on his hips. He stares at the wall for several quiet seconds, then turns back to me. “Merry Christmas, Lila. I hope you get everything you wished for.”
He walks down the hall, disappearing down the stairs. My heart aches for him, but I have to let him go. I haven’t played fair.
After I have time to catch my breath, I step back into the apartment.
Before I can react, Blake has my back pressed against the wall like he did the first time his lips touched mine. He cups my face in his hands and crashes down on me in the best way. His mouth is hot on mine, melting away the lingering hurt and pain from the last few weeks. It’s possessive, reminding me who I belong to.
He’s a wizard, a god—everything imaginary coming to life.
Shutting my eyes, I soak up every bit of what I’ve missed. They say you don’t know how much you miss something until it’s gone, but it should be you don’t know how much you miss something until it’s gone and then you have it again.
The tip of his tongue presses the seam of my lips, licking and teasing while warm drops of water from his soaked hair hit my skin. It’s the kiss to end all desire for kisses from another.
He sucks my lower lip between his before pulling away. A line is drawn between our eyes. I see I’m sorry. I see promises of never leaving me again. I see everything I’ve been waiting for, but that he couldn’t give me . . . until now.
He clings to me, and my thoughts of Pierce slowly start to disappear. I shouldn’t feel so guilty. I’ve been honest with him every step of the way. I can’t help what my heart wants.
“I don’t want you near him,” he says softly.
“I didn’t know he was coming. I’m sorry.”
Someone clears his throat next to us. “I need to make deliveries to this building more often.” Through all the chaos, we hadn’t noticed the delivery guy standing out in the hall staring at us through the open door.
“I’ll take that,” Blake says, handing him some folded bills. He takes the bag, closing the door before the guy has time to comment any further.
I watch Blake set the bag on the counter. Then he walks past me, locking the deadbolt. When he turns back to me, I can’t help but wonder if he knows how sexy he is—taut muscles, glistening chest.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since last night,” he says.
“What?”
He takes small steps toward me. “Kiss those perfect lips.”
The way he looks at me makes my heart race at a record pace.
His bare feet pad across the floor until the tips of his toes touch mine.
His hands cup my face, staring down at me with those blue eyes. Two fucked up people trying to decide if our hearts could ever beat to the same rhythm. “You’re mine, Lemon Drop.”
I can barely breathe. “I think you already know that.”
He grinds his hips against mine. I whimper. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Again,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear. “Make me believe it.”
“I’m yours, Blake. All yours.” The words come out as a plea—one begging him to stop talking and touch me.
He lifts me up. My legs have nowhere to go but around him. His lips trail my neck as he walks us to his bedroom. It feels like forever since we’ve been like this. I think about what’s happened since—where he’s been, where I’ve been.
For the second time tonight, my back is pressed against the wall. His body holds me in place while he pulls my arms from his neck, pinning them above my head. Not having control, not being able to touch him . . . it just turns me on even more. Blake’s never disappointed me when it comes to taking care of my body—he owns it.
He nips at my collarbone then soothes the bite by tracing it with his tongue. “I missed how you taste.”
He trails kisses up my throat to my lips. “And these,” he whispers, kissing me softly, “I’ve missed them too.”
He stares into my eyes, the back of his finger brushing my cheek. “And your skin . . . I love the soft feel of your skin.”
I tighten my legs around him; it’s the only way to express the crazy emotions he’s freed inside me. He reacts, pressing his lips to mine again.
As he kisses me, I rock my hips, creating friction between our bodies. He groans, which just fuels me. “Lila,” he mutters against my lips. “Stop, or we aren’t getting any further than this tonight.”
“Blake,” I pant, needing him . . . wanting him. Tilting my hips toward him again, I elicit another throaty groan.
“That’s it,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist. He throws me down on the bed, watching me with raw hunger in his eyes while he undoes the button on his jeans. I squirm against his soft cotton comforter, admiring the way the streetlights cast a glow on his well-sculpted body. He’s easy to get lost in, and once I do, I never want to be found. Not by Pierce . . . not by anyone.
When his knee hits the end of the bed, my eyes make their way up, locking with his. Intensity burns like a wildfire between us. I grip the comforter tightly, anticipating his hands on me—the brush of his cool fingertips against my skin.
“Blake.”
He presses two fingers to my lips. “No more talking.”
I wither beneath him, waiting for that moment when I feel the weight of his body on mine. The moment I feel him pressing into me, filling me. It’s the only time when all the other bullshit between us seems to melt away.
He pulls off my leggings in one swift move, leaving me bare, then pulls on my arms to lift me up. Within seconds, we’re facing each other, completely naked. Weeks of memories—some good, some I wish I could erase—flicker in my mind, but I push them all away. The world stops spinning. It’s just me and Blake in this moment.
I want to stay here.
Live here.
To always breathe the air here.
His palm presses to the center of my chest. I feel my heart beating hard against it. And more than that, I feel warmth building within me—inside the cage. Love isn’t easy—no one ever said it would be—but maybe if it withstands this torrential rain, it’s worth fighting for. Not just once. Not until I’m badly bruised, but until my last breath.
Blake is worth it.