Scars of Silk: A Tears of Ink - Novel Page 9

What am I thinking? Nothing sane, that’s for sure. I’m thinking this is nice—I mean nice? Hello… I’m wondering why this man wants to hurt himself and questioning why he isn’t talking to those who love him and would help. I’m wondering why this seems to be a recurring event in my life. Loving and losing, brutality and defeat.

  “I’m thinking.” Licking my lips, I pause. I don’t even know how to articulate all the many thoughts I have. “Not much.”

  “You lie.” He chuckles and shifts his body beneath mine.

  “I’m thinking I’ll ache tomorrow.” I snort a laugh and hide my face against his chest, trying to hide the red tinge stinging my cheeks.

  “More than me? Now don’t go stealing my thunder, darling.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’d hate for you not to be wallowing in your injuries.”

  He rolls us, hiding any pain he might feel, trapping me within the cage of his arms. “What injuries?”

  His warm brown eyes smile down, and I lift a hand to run it through the sandy, shaggy lengths. I cock an eyebrow. “None I can see.”

  His lips hover over mine, close enough I can taste us on his breath. “Why were you crying?”

  I try to turn, but his fingers lift and grasp my chin.

  “Don’t. This isn’t what this is about.”

  “What is this? Because the way I see it you keep turning up at my house.”

  “Just leave it, Dan.”

  He’s between my legs, his knee rising until it’s pressed at the apex of my thighs. An instant fire builds down there and I squirm from his touch.

  “You see, darling, a long time ago I didn’t pay attention to a girl that cried, who acted out, and we all know how that turned out.” His gaze is unflinching. “So if you don’t want me to ask questions then don’t turn up crying.”

  His knee presses right between my legs. He knows what he’s doing as he applies more pressure and I groan a little, trapped under his hold.

  I want to rub myself along him like a bloody cat.

  Dipping his head, he sucks my earlobe into his mouth, his teeth clamping around the flesh, pulling with an incessant bite. My eyes all but roll back to see my brain.

  “Talk.”

  “No.” I shift against his knee. I'm undone by him. He played my power game and now I’m in his grasp.

  His knee circles, pressing so hard the pleasure spears with pain. I groan, staring at the wall, at the door to the room, at anything that isn’t him watching me fall apart at his barest touch.

  A wave of pleasure mingles with discomfort, but I take it all, losing myself as I shut my eyes and grind myself against him with no restraint at all.

  “Why were you crying?”

  “Why do you even care?”

  “Who says I do?” His knee pushes harder and I can’t contain my moan. “Was it a bad date? Was he pot-bellied and balding?”

  “No.”

  More pressure. “Did he not make you want to do this?”

  I can’t even think about Scott Harrington and the drunken leer on his face. I just want to come against Dan’s knee like a fucking dog. “No,” I gasp.

  His leg stops moving, the pressure disappearing, and a low whimper escapes my lips. Ducking his head, he meets my gaze. “I’m used to secrets. I’ve lived with them, have seen them destroy everything.”

  “I’m not her.” I try to push him off, but it’s useless. He’s a solid wall of a man.

  “I never said you were, darling.” I almost hiss as he smirks. His eyes dance as I squirm against his hold. “I thought you liked it like this?” he whispers into my ear while his hand deftly catches hold of my wrists, lifting them above my head.

  “Let me go.”

  “Why? Because I want to know things about you? Because I’m interested in you?”

  His words take some of the wind out of my sails. Is he interested in me? What does that even mean for someone to be interested in me and not interested in the Richards name? He doesn’t know me. Doesn’t know my family. Doesn’t know how rich we are, or what my dad will pay for me to settle with the right candidate.

  “Why?”

  He doesn’t answer. With his gaze firmly locked on mine, he lifts up, shifting squarely between my legs. Slowly, he inches his cock deep inside me and with every single press he makes as he joins us together, I build with a wild need to lose myself. Arching my back, I stretch off the bed, pushing my arms further away, stretching myself to the absolute limit.

  So many secrets.

  So many damaged shards of who we are.

  Two broken people. Him with his bruises, and me with my aching hollow in the place of my heart.

  But as he fills me up, sliding back and forth, a deep connection sparks within me and my reasons why he was the place I drove to tonight becomes achingly clear.

  Releasing my arms, I slide them around his neck, pulling him down so I can slant my lips across his. A kiss. Our first. His fingers slip under my head, tilting my mouth to his, warm and secure. His hips slow, even though he stays inside me while his tongue teases through my lips, tangling with mine.

  Within me, a wild sensation of belonging fills me, blooming through my chest, aching its way down to my extremities. I hold him tighter, breaking the kiss, I whisper, “Make love to me.”

  He says nothing, but his expression for one moment is beautiful and sincere. I brush my fingers around his bruised face, across his lips, until my palm cups his chin. “Please.”

  His mouth lowers down to mine and I inhale sharply as a kiss unlike any other consumes me from the inside out.

  “My brother died, eight years ago.” The room is dark. It feels better, almost poetic, to speak my truths into the shadowy depth of night. My cheek is against Dan’s chest, his heart thudding under my ear. “You remind me of him in some ways.”

  His fingers are stroking my hair, smoothing through the long strands tight to the tip before starting again at the root. “How come?”

  “He was angry too.”

  “I’m not always angry.” A light pressure lands on the top of my head as he shifts under me before lying back down again, his fingers picking up their regular rhythm.

  “No?”

  “Anyway, tell me more.” There’s a brief pause. “If you can.”

  I nod, my lips pressing briefly against his head. His arms tighten like he’s holding me together while I speak. No one has ever tried to do that before. Maybe no one has ever heard me talk. Not really.

  “I was at uni when it started.”

  “With that guy?”

  I shake my head slightly. “Yes, what an idiot. And Eli was there. We had a bit of a crowd, had a laugh. I didn’t go home that often.” I ignore the way Dan’s body stiffens at the mention of Eli. I can’t go there right now; can’t deal with his jealousy over Faith while he’s laying naked in bed with me. “But while I was away Will got in with a bad crowd, and really, mum didn’t know how to deal with it. My father has his own clear parenting ideas and Will just rebelled against it. In truth, I don’t think he could accept the life we lived: gloss and perfection on the outside, while behind closed doors there wasn’t a single thing that shone. He lost himself in drugs, using everything he could find.

  “Dad booked him into hospitals, rehab, everything, but Will didn’t want help.” I stop talking. Shattered memories I’ve spent five years trying to forget batter me from the inside out. Mum crying on the phone, dad shouting, Will… Will just beyond caring.

  “He said he was clean and arranged a visit to come and see me and Eli at uni.” A tear rolls from the corner of my eye and splashes onto Dan’s skin. His hands pause their stroking and instead he just places them on my head, firm and reassuring. I wonder is he knows just how supportive that is? “He wasn’t right, I could tell; but I did what the Richards always do. Turned a blind eye.”

  Another tear.

  “Eli told me he thought Will seemed depressed, vacant almost, but I told him that was just how he seemed after Dad laid into him.” I swallow
hard.

  “We went out. Will wasn’t drinking. I was so damn proud, until I found him taking pills. He told me they were to make him feel better, painkillers the doctor had given him along with some beta-blockers.”

  I stop talking and just lie there with my face in my own tears on Dan’s chest.

  “What happened?"

  “They fished him out of the river two days later. The coroner ruled it an accidental death, but I know the truth, Dan. He thought he had nothing else to live for. He jumped. He didn’t slip.”

  His fingers start their pattern again, his breathing regular. “That’s why you keep turning up at my house. You think I’ll commit suicide.”

  “Isn’t that what the underground fighting was about? And the overdose?"

  He doesn’t answer, not the longest time. “No. I just wanted to not feel.”

  His voice is tight and I know he's holding back the truth; not just from me, but from himself. There’s a darkness in Dan I’ve seen before.

  How can he not want to feel yet put himself through the agony of a fight that destroys him? He speaks first so I don’t have time to articulate my guess.

  “You’ve mentioned your dad a few times. Does he hurt you? His body stiffens beneath me and while I think of my reply, I realise he’s holding his breath.

  “Not me.” I blink another tear. “Will used to get it. When we were kids, it would be a belt for not doing what he was told, or a passing back hander. When we got older, I think Dad realised he lost his control.”

  “So he doesn’t hurt you anymore?”

  My tears flow faster and hotter. “No. But if he doesn’t get what he wants, or things aren't right.” I gasp a strangled breath. “My mum knows about it.”

  “That’s why you went for Sunday dinner. Because you wanted to protect her?”

  “I couldn’t help Will. I can still help her.”

  We lay in silence. My thoughts spin too fast, like clouds on a clear day moving at the onset of a storm.

  He moves, lifting me slightly off his chest. I think for one awful moment he's going to get up and put his clothes on. He wriggles down the bed until we are face to face, our noses almost touching.

  “My dad died in August.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  “Elijah, I’m guessing.” He tries to hold his dislike in, but I can see right through him. Reading people is my most valuable skill. It’s just a shame it’s let me down in all the ways that matter.

  “Actually, no; from Faith. She talks about you a lot.”

  “Because I’m her best friend.”

  “Is that so bad? She loves you. Just maybe not in the way you always wanted.”

  “I’ve been so angry with her,” he whispers, his lips a hairsbreadth from mine. “But I think I’m angry at myself for failing her.”

  “I know that feeling well.”

  “So, your dad. If you don’t see that bloke again, the one who made you cry.…

  “It wasn’t Scott who made me cry. It was my dad. He pretended that Will wasn't dead, that he was just too busy for Sunday lunch.” It sounds preposterous when I say it out loud to someone who doesn’t know my family. I can’t control myself, I giggle.

  “Wow. That’s some heavy shit.”

  “Yep.”

  “So if you don’t see this Scott again, your mum will get the brunt of your father’s anger? Why don’t you call the police? Isn’t that what you are doing for Faith, gathering evidence for the prosecution?”

  “Yes, but it’s not that simple. Mum won’t admit what he does. I know, Will knew, but she won’t say it out loud. Until she does, I can’t do a damn thing to help her.”

  He nods. “When Faith told me what had happened to her, I wanted to kill everyone, everyone who hurt her, touched her, even so much as looked at her.”

  I nod, but think, please don’t talk about her anymore. “Then when I think about it, I know deep down in my heart I’m as much to blame. I knew something was wrong. We were practically brother and sister, but even I did nothing.”

  I nod, I can’t speak around the lump in my throat.

  He smiles a little. “I’m guessing if this between us ever got out it wouldn’t bode well for your mother?”

  There it is. The awful truth.

  “I don’t get to have my own life, Dan.” I meet his eyes, my tongue tingling with nerves. “No matter how much I might want it.”

  “What if no one knew?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if no one knew about me.? His lips curve into a delicious smile. “What if somehow this sex thing, turned into a few dates thing… but no one knew?”

  I shake my head, but in my chest my heart thuds like the hooves of wild horses. “I’d never ask that of anyone. I have never asked that of anyone; and it’s not just that… People know me. My family pulls enough weight that I’m a story if someone wants to spin it.”

  He’s silent and my chest tightens a notch, then he leans forward and his lips catch mine and I all but melt into his embrace.

  Unlatching his lips from mine, he cocks a cheeky eyebrow. “Even in Brighton?” I laugh, a sound I can’t remember the last time I made. This is dangerous.

  It’ll hurt like hell, but as his strong, tattooed arms link around me, I know I can’t do anything else.

  It's just this, and I’ll take any scars it gives me just to have it for one moment more.

  Eleven

  Dan

  “Breakfast. Let’s haul arse.” I pull the cover back, revealing her smooth back and the silken swell of her buttocks. “And get out of here. I have a whole house just down the road.”

  “I thought you like kinky sex in hotel rooms?” Turning, she stretches, providing me with a breathtaking view of her naked body.

  “Oh, believe me, I like it very much; but I have more rooms at mine and also you have work to do.”

  I’m freaking myself out with how normal this all seems. Too normal. Scary normal. I’m not a breakfasting kind of guy. JoAnne, my last screw, dumped me for never hanging around to have breakfast.

  I frown when I remember how she was yesterday when she came by. It’s not my fault. I never said I was the settling down kind of guy—she only had to look at me to work that out for herself.

  “And what will you be doing while I’m working?” She stretches her slender legs and then sits up, swinging them for the edge of the bed. I'm not going to tell her I haven’t slept, that I’ve been awake since we stopped our whispered conversation and the slow sex that came after it. I’ve been thinking about her and her brother, about the pain she holds in her heart. The fact she came back to me even though she didn’t know me, just because she could sense what was destroying me. A deep dark grief I can’t control.

  It’s time to wake up.

  “I think I’ll make some plans.”

  She turns and glances at me over her shoulder as she buttons up the shirt I pulled off hours before. My dick flickers to life when I think of how things were when we walked into the hotel room. The way she just handed herself over to me. This morning, I know that’s her escapism from the control her dad holds over her.

  Her dad.

  What a piece of shit human being.

  That’s fucked up.

  If Sienna wants to waste her time with me to get over the way he is, then I’m more than happy for that. I don’t have time in my life for anything more than fun and sex. If that’s what she wants too then I will be the only person who gives it to her.

  Scott Harrington or whatever his name is can go fuck himself.

  When she’s dressed, we check the room for any discarded clothes and then go to check out. In the lift, I drag her into my space, fitting her against my body and claim her lips, enjoying the ripple of pleasure that tingles across my skin as she darts her tongue deep into my mouth.

  She has no idea how hot she is.

  Scorching.

  We hold hands through the lobby; no one will know us here. But when we get out onto the sea f
ront, she lets go of my hand and slips on a pair of dark sunglasses. Snorting a laugh, I nudge my shoulder against hers. “Is this your investigator look?”

  “I watch a lot of crime drama.”

  This makes me laugh, causing an old lady walking a Yorkshire Terrier to jump and glare. I offer her a smile before turning around to my investigator. “Are you going to be working on that list I gave you?”

  “Yeah, although I’m not expecting to get much.”

  “Okay.” I nod. I don’t know how far to push this casual understanding we have. “Can I ask a favour though?”

  “Favours are reliant on how many orgasms you have in hand.”

  This woman. She’s out of this world.

  “How many did I earn last night?”

  “One.”

  “What!? One. Are you crazy?”

  She lifts an eyebrow, grinning at me like crazy as we stand with salt air whipping at our hair. “One.”

  “Two?”

  “One.”

  “Okay.” I narrow my gaze. I plan to spend all night with her again. I’ll be earning more than one. A kindle of excitement settles itself into my tummy and I wonder if I can even remember the last time I felt that. “Don’t go near Aiden. Or his cronies.”

  “No. I need to get as much information as I can.”

  “Not from him, nor Elliot or Charlie. I don’t trust them.”

  Her smile fades. “Dan, this is important. Faith isn’t going to get to trial otherwise.”

  “Just not them, okay?”

  She nods, but I don’t know if I believe her.

  “Good. Now are we allowed to hold hands walking along the sea?”

  She shakes her head, her face falling. “No. My dad has people everywhere.”

  “What is he, the gestapo?”

  “That would be an improvement.”

  The look on her face tells me not to ask any more questions, so I don’t, but I’m determined to do one thing while Sienna and I have our fun together. I’m going to help her get free.

  She steps up, her eyes fierce. “I can see what you are doing. You’re planning how to help me. You want to turn me into another Faith; someone who needs your help.”