“That’s why we’ll make the most of it.” I lifted her bum, then eased her down on top of me, holding her gaze.
“Ooh…” she uttered.
“Was that a good ooh?”
A low growl found its way out of my chest. My fingers dug into her skin. There was no way I would get enough of being close to her.
Another ooh left her mouth, a touch louder and definitely satisfied, but I wasn’t sure which one of us was more satisfied. She leaned in to kiss me, raising up and down, following the rhythm of my hands and mouth until she no longer needed help.
She pushed my hands away and rode me at her own pace. I pressed my hand to the side of her neck, grazing my thumb over her jaw and forcing her to rest her forehead against mine.
“Again,” I murmured, taking control of the situation when she began to tremble.
I held her in place, pumping in and out, eager to see her come in my arms. And she did. She clung to me, biting on my lower lip when another powerful orgasm shuddered her frail frame.
I hadn’t finished yet, and it was already the best sex I ever had. There was no fucking way I could leave that girl alone.
I pushed Pamela away, taking my lower lip between my thumb and index finger while Nadia’s serene eyes stared at me whenever I blinked.
This was fucked-up. Two months had passed, yet Nadia was still all my body and heart wanted. Fucking the barmaid wouldn’t change a thing. She wasn’t good enough to be a temporary distraction, let alone an eraser able to wipe Nadia out of my system.
It was like I was stuck in neutral and couldn’t change the gear.
I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving the busty blonde with parted lips, large eyes and probably feeling quite shitty.
“You’re just going to leave?” she yelled, her voice shaking with what sounded like anger and embarrassment. “What’s wrong with you?!”
“Something a quick fuck won’t fix,” I hissed, rounding the corner to get in front of the building.
I lit a cigarette, rested against the wall and surrounded myself with thick clouds of smoke.
So… that went well.
My phone chimed in my pocket. A message from Nadia waited on the screen, and my heart sped up.
I have a confession.
My brows furrowed for a moment, but before I typed a reply, she sent me a picture of my t-shirt lying on her knees.
She just found a brand-new way to break me all over again.
CHAPTER 7
NADIA
Ugly baggage
November came and went with Adrian trying to soothe me, and Ty packing my bags more than once. He yelled, cursed and begged me to return to London any chance he got. I understood his point of view. During the many months of Adrian’s addiction, he saved me from the abuse more times than either of us could count, and as any other sane person, he hated to see me hurt.
The sad part was that I volunteered to be Adrian’s punching bag. Somewhere deep down, I thought there was a limit to his cruelty, that he would cross a line and stop cold turkey for his sake and mine, too.
Love was blind.
Iwas blind. I saw what I wanted to see. Whathewanted me to see: love, passion, desire, even safety at some point. He gave me the illusion of happiness, of a life without guilt about my father’s death and hatred toward my mother. Adrian helped me through the darkest times in my short life. He was always there when I needed him and ready to make me smile. Adrian was ready to be whatever I needed at any moment in time.
He was the most sophisticated of manipulators. He wrapped me around his finger and made me appreciate him for helping me through the excruciating pain of loss. But it was an illusion. Adrian didn’t want to heal me. He wanted to lead me in the right direction in a way that I would never reach the destination.
I was his prisoner, his greatest prize and possession since the moment he laid his dark eyes on me. It wasn’t love he wanted; it wasdependency. Millions of people stay in unhappy relationships, because they depend on their partner for many reasons. There was no denying that Adrian loved me, but love was never his goal.