Chapter 22
chapter
twenty-two
“There’s a gravity between us that doesn’t pull—it drags. And it never lets go.” – Haven
HAVEN
The concert last night went off without any issues. But I can’t help staring at Cy and watching every little twitch of his finger.
I really have no interest in going to dinner with my father and Anita, but here I am sitting in the back of a limo with Cy on the way to the restaurant. It’s silent save for the low hum of the engine and the storm of unspoken things between us.
Cyrus is beside me, all sexy angles and restrained energy. His leg is bouncing, brushing mine with an intensity that makes the sexual tension radiate off him as steady as a desert heat.
Every bump in the road feels like a spark, and when our knees press together for those brief moments, I have to look away. We are alone, but neither of us moves to another seat. I know I should, yet here I am.
I stare out the tinted window, trying not to look at his reflection in the glass. I try not to remember how I feel when he touches me, or to think about how every time he is near, my world teeters on a ledge with large, spiky rocks below.
“Don’t look so nervous,” he whispers, right next to my ear.
I jump, my body heating. I didn’t notice him moving closer, but now every spot where his body touches mine is amplified.
“I’m not nervous,” I lie.
“You are. You always twist the hem of whatever you’re wearing when you’re trying not to scream,” he says.
I glance down and then stop my traitorous hands from doing exactly that.
“And you always act like you know everything,” I snap back.
He chuckles under his breath. I dare to look at him, and there, shining in his eyes, is the dark I remember. The difference…before it was just cruelty staring back. Now, it’s mixed with desire that stops the breath in my chest.
“Only when it comes to you,” he answers softly.
I shiver and look away.
God, why is there no switch for me to turn this…this…chemistry between us off? I don’t want it. A voice in the back of my mind calls me a liar, but I ignore that asshole.
“Fuck, you smell incredible,” Cy says, his nose touching my throat right over my pulse.
I squeeze my thighs together, but I can feel myself caving. That’s it. I’ve tempted fate long enough. I push up to move to the other side of the limo and give us some space. However, my timing can’t be any worse. We turn a corner, and I stumble sideways, falling directly onto Cy’s lap.
He groans as my ass presses up against him and a wild heat rips through my body. Before I can escape, his arms snake around, holding me firmly in place.
“Cy, let me up,” I order, but he’s not listening.
His pupils are blown, and instead of releasing me, he wraps one hand around the back of my neck and puts the other on my hip.
“You’re killing me, Butterfly.”
His voice is rough and travels down my spine. I go to move again, but he holds me tighter. I can feel his hard cock under my ass, and I gasp. My entire body wars with right and wrong.
“I haven’t fucked anyone since you arrived,” he continues.
“Do you want a trophy? I can buy you one,” I bite out through clenched teeth.
Cy smirks.
“I’d prefer to be buried deep inside you. I want to hear you scream my name as you come all over me. I still remember everything.”
His hand grips my neck harder, and his eyes lock with mine as he draws me closer to his lips. Cyrus has a hold over me that I’ve never been able to break. The logical part of my brain is scrambled.
“Fuck you make me hard,” he whispers against my lips.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
My heart is a drum in my ears.
Get away from him. My inner voice screams. He’s only going to hurt you. And what about Charles?
The voice is not wrong, and yet as Cyrus flicks his tongue out and runs it over my bottom lip, I remain frozen in place.
“Is your pussy aching for me right now?”
I wiggle before I can stop myself, and Cy’s eyes darken further until they look onyx in the dim car.
“No,” I lie.
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Then prove it. Spread your legs and let me check.”
I glare at him as he lifts an eyebrow in challenge.
“I’m not doing that, and you need to let me go.”
“Why, because of Charles?”
“Among other things, yes.”
“Does he make you feel like you’re burning up? Like you want to rip your clothes off? Like you’ll never get enough and you’ll do anything for just one more time?”
I lick my lips, and he watches the movement.
“My sex life is none of your business.”
“Oh…but it is. You can’t keep running from your feelings forever, Haven. You want me as much as I want you.”
He doesn’t say it like a question, but as a foregone conclusion. Then he lets me go, his hands fall away, and I hesitate for a second too long before moving.
I’m still trying to think of a good comeback that doesn’t make us sound like we’ve reverted to high school, but nothing comes to me.
Thankfully, the car slows and turns into a driveway.
Cyrus is watching me as he adjusts himself, and I catch myself staring. Cy smirks. Fuck. I force my head to turn, my body shaking with the effort.
He’s an asshole. He treated me like shit. He doesn’t deserve me. He needs to fuck off. I need to stop thinking about him naked. I have a fiancé. I’m being an asshole.
The rant-like pep talk continues in my head as the car comes to a complete stop.
There is no paparazzi, at least not yet. Which means they’ve kept our booking secret, but with public places, someone will leak that we’re here. I have no doubt that there will be eager fans and photographers, hoping to score a juicy shot, waiting for us when we walk out.
A valet opens the door and holds out his hand to help me. My heart kicks into overdrive when I see my father standing near the front, phone in hand, looking polished. I’d been so excited to see him, but after yesterday at the hospital…I don’t know what to feel.
Before I can even say his name, he turns, smiles, and opens his arms like we never argued.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Dad says, meeting me halfway and pulling me into a hug. “I’m so sorry about yesterday. I hate arguing with you.”
“I don’t like fighting with you either.”
“God, I missed you,” Dad says. Pulling back, he looks me over. “You look exhausted.”
“I look like the tour bus ran me over and then decided to drag me the entire way to dinner.”
He laughs.
“No, you don’t. You look beautiful,” Cy says, and we both look at him.
His face is serious, and for once, I can’t read what is in his eyes.
Dad clears his throat and pulls my attention back to him.
“You appear to be holding it all together. That’s what matters. I’m proud of you.”
“You mean that?”
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. You’re navigating sharks, Haven. And you haven’t been eaten yet.”
A warm laugh escapes me.
“Yet being the keyword.”
“Am I the shark in this scenario,” Cy asks.
I glance up at him. I’ve come far too close already.
“You said it.”
Dad looks between us.
“Let’s eat. You must be starving.”
As we turn to walk through the doors, Cy leans in close.
“I’ll happily eat you,” he whispers against my ear.
“Behave,” I growl under my breath.
“Trust me, I am. If I wasn’t, the limo would be rocking.”
A nervous flutter takes flight in my chest as my stomach flips. I try to quell it, but what I really need is a cold shower and to spend the rest of my life on the other side of the planet.
We walk through the doors, and it is as if we are transported to a different world.
This is the kind of place that doesn’t just whisper wealth, it screams it in gold accents and quiet exclusivity.
Crystal chandeliers dangle like frozen fireworks from vaulted ceilings, casting a soft glow over white linen tables.
The cutlery is so polished it gleams. Velvet upholstery covers chairs in midnight blue and hugs the room in rich curves.
Soft jazz floats from a grand piano. Every scent, from truffle oil to aged burgundy, clings to the air like perfume.
My father loves to dine in places like this, while I avoid them at all costs.
Cy walks beside me, his hand resting on my lower back. We draw stares from everyone that we pass. Correction, they are staring at Cyrus Vale, rockstar. They don’t care who I am.
I glance at him, silently telling him to back off.
But he ignores me even though I know he can see me.
Turning a corner, we walk into a more private area with only a few tables.
The ma?tre d’ seats us at a table bathed in soft candlelight.
It feels warm and welcoming, romantic even, save for the Ice Queen sitting there.
“I’ll be right back,” Dad says and heads to the bar.
I don’t blame him for needing a drink. He is married to Anita after all.
Cyrus pulls out my chair, and I stare at him as if he’s been hit over the head. What the hell has gotten into him?
Once I sit, he parks himself beside me, smirk firmly in place. This dinner feels more like a game of Risk rather than a business meeting. It is a war of glances and comments that are meant to spur me into a fight.
Anita gives me a tight smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Well, that’s a…daring dress, Haven,” she says, the condescension bleeding through with every word. “It’s very social media manager meets reality television desperation. I suppose bold choices suit you best.”
“Mother, if you’re going to start this again, Haven and I are leaving,” Cy says, and my mouth drops open.
“What? I am paying Haven a compliment,” she says.
I place my hand on Cy’s to keep him from jumping in, and Anita’s lips press so tightly together that you can’t see them anymore.
“Thank you, Anita,” I say, smiling sweetly. “I almost wore pearls and judgment, but then I remembered that’s your style and I didn’t want to copy you.”
Cyrus snickers, and Anita shoots him a glare.
She hasn’t changed a bit. It was so frustrating growing up and feeling like no one saw how she gaslit me and manipulated every situation. It was insanity for me, and no one noticed or cared.