Chapter Twenty-Seven Blake
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Blake
I was drunk. And dancing, blissfully dancing.
After the last fight, the lights went low, and the music turned up. I let loose.
I couldn’t deny that it was nice to be spending time with Levi again.
He was wrapped all around Palma from behind.
The two were doing a sexy slow grind that would make me uncomfortable if there was better lighting where I’d have to see them.
Right now, they were more just a hint of what was going on with them.
It was even fun to see Lassiter. Even though he was usually an asshole.
The only one missing . . .
No. I shook that thought away. I was drunk. That was the only reason it slipped through.
Except, as if on cue, hands came to my hips from behind, and after pausing a moment, after I relaxed back into his arms because I knew, I just knew who it was, he pressed against me.
Tingles shot down my spine. My breath hitched.
Creighton was here.
A part of me melted. The other part had alarms blaring.
They were so far in the back and muted and fuzzy from the other warm feelings happening right now.
I was with my family. Levi and Creighton, they were mine.
These new people, Palma, Marshall, even Heath, they could maybe be someone to me.
I didn’t know. It was too soon. I’d gone through too much, so it took a long time before anyone got into my heart space, though Palma was working her way in there.
And Levi was all about Palma.
Palma was all about Levi.
And that made me happy. Maybe it shouldn’t. Maybe I should be worried about the aftermath, if there was going to be an aftermath, or hell, of course there would be, so whenever that aftermath would happen, it would happen then. I wasn’t thinking about that now.
I’d kept myself away, tried to keep away from Creighton, tried to warn him away. But I just wanted to give in.
I burrowed farther into his arms, my body heating, awakening. I needed.
I turned around, fitting myself against his chest, and with that desperation clawing its way up my throat, I reached for his neck, a mewling whimper tearing from my throat.
My mind shut off.
My body was operating on its own.
I was done fighting against myself. I couldn’t remember why I ever had been.
As I reached for him, he bent down, and I lifted myself up at the same time. I didn’t even want to be dancing anymore.
I. Just. Wanted. Creighton.
He stood, lifting me in his arms. My legs wrapped around his waist, my arms tightened around his neck, and I breathed into his neck, filling myself with the smell of him.
A fresh coldness from outside along with a whiff of peppermint and forest. I didn’t even know where any of those scents came from, but they were him.
He was moving with me wrapped around him like a koala bear. I was in a happy state, where I could either fall asleep or—I rocked over him and smiled as he groaned deep and low into my ear.
I rocked again. That felt so good.
His hand fell to my ass, grasping it. “Blake.”
I wanted more. Lifting my mouth, I tasted his throat, and he groaned again. That sound was so blissful. A shiver went through me, making me tremble in his arms.
I didn’t know where we were anymore, but he was moving us.
The music faded.
We were going up.
“What—” someone else started.
“Leave,” Creighton clipped out.
A door clicked, closing, and it was quiet now. Peaceful. Except I was writhing inside. The dam had been building for so fucking long, and I let it shatter. Everything was rushing through me, making me feel like I was going to go insane.
I reached for Creighton’s shirt and yanked him to me.
I growled in his face. “You.” I dragged his mouth to mine.
I barely registered his eyes widening, but then it didn’t matter because I was tasting him, this time on the lips, and things clicked into place inside of me.
The right drawers suddenly found the shelves they were supposed to be in.
All the madness cleared out of me. Lights that had been blinking in a frenzy all dimmed, all at the same time.
A peace that I’d never let myself welcome wound itself through me, waking up every cell in my body, and just telling me that same message over and over again.
Home.
I was home.
And that was in Creighton’s arms, with his lips on mine, and I let myself ride in my own boat right over that dam.
I fell.
He stiffened, pulling away. “Wait.”
I panted. “Want.”
He dodged my mouth, gripping the back of my neck. He angled his head to see me better. “How much have you been drinking?”
I cursed. This was stupid. I knew what I wanted. I moved for him again.
His hand tightened on my neck, until another whimper left me, and he tore himself out of my arms. I landed on a desk with a thud, and suddenly he was across the room, breathing hard, his hands on his hips. “How much have you had to drink?”
“What does it matter?” I snapped.
He snapped right back, “It matters. You matter. You’re the only thing that matters, so yes, if you’re in an altered state of mind, it matters.” He heaved a breath, his nostrils flaring. “How much?”
I deflated.
Those words.
Jesus. Those words.
. . . you matter. You’re the only thing that matters . . . I blinked back tears.
I knew Creighton’s obsession, but to hear it in those words, the madness was coming back to my head. It was going to fill me up, and I was going to get all confused once more. It’d felt so nice being in his arms, giving in, and letting everything else filter out. My mind was quiet for once.
I wanted that back.
I snorted. “Why do you care now about—” I folded my arms over my chest, pouting.
Tomorrow I’d regret pouting. I acknowledged that, but I got a glimpse at what the world felt like in his arms. I got a taste before it was gone. I wanted that back. This need for him was in me, burrowing deeper behind my heart, and he was making himself comfortable there.
He ripped that away.
“I care about you.” He jerked toward me, his words puncturing me.
“I am not a man that cares about right from wrong, except when it concerns you. Only with you. Don’t you get that?
You’re my barometer. You’re my compass. I know which way is right because of you.
You’re the reason why I’m able to function as a normal person.
So yes, Blake, it’s always going to matter with you. ”
My bottom lip was trembling, and my hand was shaking.
How could a girl function after hearing that?
My lungs were burning again, wanting to explode. The feeling was building, rising, growing.
I was drunk, but I wanted to give in. One night. Just one.
It was my excuse for why I could let myself get lost in him.
Hot tears slid down my face. I ignored them. “I can’t be with you sober.”
I heard his soft intake of air. “And that’s the only way I’d have you.”
Sober. Not drunk.
Well, fuck him then.
I glared at him, my eyebrows pulled low. Fuck. Him.
He looked almost normal at the moment. I sneered. “Look at you, having a conscience.”
He barked out a harsh laugh, raking a hand through his hair.
“Only for you. You are my conscience.” He turned, going to a window that overlooked the rest of the warehouse.
“I wasn’t born with a soul, Blake. For fourteen years I walked around, knowing something was different about me, but I didn’t know what it was.
It didn’t matter to me. Then one day a little girl got out of a car, and suddenly I had something in my chest. I didn’t know what it was.
I just knew something was there that hadn’t been there before.
So if that makes you my soul or my conscience, I don’t care.
I’ll take it. But that only stays that way as long as I don’t fuck up with you.
Letting myself touch you when there’s a chance you could regret it, that’s me poisoning it. I won’t do it. Not that. Not you.”
How could he stand there, having done all the things he’d done over the years, the dead bodies that he laid at my feet, tricking me at times, and now he stood on some moral podium? “This was your chance, Eight.”
He said, deadpan, “I need to be a better man to be with you, and here I am, being that man, but it’s not what you want right now. Bit of a hypocrite, aren’t you?”
I felt slapped.
A low simmer had already started in me. The heat cranked up, and my blood began to boil over. “You—”
“We have never talked about the option of you and me as in you and me. As in an us. Isn’t that what you like to do? Talk about feelings? You didn’t want to talk about it the other night. And tonight, we skipped right over that, and you’re not even realizing that.”
I blanched, because he was right. What did that mean?
My head was swimming again, getting all confused. I liked either wanting him or being mad at him because then I knew what I wanted. I knew what I felt. But this, it was making everything all cloudy again.
I whispered, “Eight.”
“We’ve been doing this dance all our lives. You and me. It’s always been you and me. My role keeps changing for you. Not your brother. Not your father. But I’m in your life. Provider.” He laughed, a bitterness there. “If you let me. Protector. If you let me.”
“You have no parameters.” What was he doing here? Where was he going with this?
He suddenly stalked over to me. “I have parameters.”
What was he doing?
I began backing up until I hit the wall.
And he was right there, in front of me, leaning over me. I could feel his heat from his body. His breath coated me, and I tried to suppress a shiver. It didn’t work. He saw it, and he lowered his head even more.
He was so close.
The yearning was building again, taking me over.
I wanted to reach out to him. Take hold of his shirt, pull him to me, close the distance. There was hardly any air separating us, and then he closed the distance even more, bracing his hands on either side of my head. I was pinned in place.
My heart was thumping loudly, demanding his touch.