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PEARL
* * *
I take the stairs up to our room, unable to be around anyone, fearful I’m a walking red flag. I had the opportunity to share. I didn’t take it. I should have known Fury would tell someone about my . . . episode. Out of worry, like Brad said. And maybe a little because he’s obliged to divulge everything. My confession hung on my tongue, so close to falling out of my mouth. But instead, I lied. I bottled it. And then when Brad—a merciless, cold-blooded, supposedly unattached fucking machine—comforted me, hugged me, it took strength I didn’t have to resist that sense of safety. The sense of belonging. But I have to tell him. Tell him everything. I’m putting him, everyone here, in danger. I feel like I’m clinging on to hope. Praying I mean enough to Brad for him not to abandon me. Or kill me.
I walk into the room as Anya comes out of the bathroom, her hands in her hair, tying it up. She stills, taking me in. “Yes,” I breathe. “Yes, I was in Brad’s room.”
She looks at me like she feels sorry for me. “Pearl, I am a good listener.”
I know she is. Problem is, I’m not sure I want to hear what anyone has to say about my predicament. “I’m going to take a shower.” I shut the door and flip it on, my mind in overdrive as I strip down. He’s here in Miami. It’s only a matter of time before he finds me. He’s already so close. Too close.
But I’m safer here than out there on my own. Or . . . am I? Because my heart feels terribly at risk right now. Am I naïve to hope this could be forever? Undoubtedly. But Brad says all the right things. Treats me with tenderness but sureness. Am I in . . . “Oh my God,” I breathe, frustrated with my spinning head. I step under the water and wash my hair, washing away Brad from my skin.
When I’m done and drying myself, I go to the mirror and have a mental pep talk with my reflection. Tell him. My heart beats faster as I secure the towel, tucking it in around my chest, and I sweep my hands through my hair, pulling it back off my face. “Tell him,” I say to my reflection. I grab my mobile and open the bathroom door.
And meet a chest.
“Oh.” I move back, my phone slipping out of my hand. “Fucking hell.”
Brad tilts his head, his expression disapproving.
“You frightened me,” I breathe as he dips and picks up my mobile.
A slow, sexy smile appears. “Oh, so you are afraid of me?”
He has no idea. “Where did Danny drag you to at the crack of dawn?”
“I’ve told you, there are things you should know, things you shouldn’t.”
“Right.” I crane my head to look past him, pulling in my towel. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“Who says?”
I shoot my eyes to his. “Everyone except you and me.”
“But we’re all that matters.” He casually leans against the doorframe, spinning my mobile in his hand, one jean-clad leg crossed over the other. Stunning man. My wild heartbeats ease off, and I melt. When I look at him, I feel a warmth that’s been absent for years. I look at him and want to be in this world so long as he’s in it with me. I look at him and want to rip his clothes off.
I look at him and forget everything for a while.
Escape.
I have to believe everything can be all right.
So tell him!
My thighs quivering, I launch myself at him, kissing him manically, eating him alive, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. Ravenous.
“Whoa, easy,” he says, laughing around our kiss, walking backward into the bedroom. He returns my kiss, hard and hungry, continuing to the door. He opens it, drops my mouth, and peeks out, and then throws me onto his shoulder and practically runs to his room. I’m suddenly on my back, my hands with a mind of their own, reaching for his jeans and unbuttoning the fly. I feel him, hot and ready, a long, low growl rumbling in his throat.
“Jesus Christ, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” He pulls my towel away and removes my hand from his cock, his mouth falling to my boob, kissing around the flesh, before he sucks and bites his way toward my thighs.
The moment his tongue licks through me, my body arches, the euphoria instant. “Brad.” I throw my hands up to the headboard. I can feel my climax looming already. It’s too soon. “Brad, stop.”
He pulls away immediately, looking up at me, his eyes drunk, his mouth wet.
“Inside.” I reach down to pull him up my body. “I want you inside me,” I whisper, feeling between us for his hardness, desperately wanting him to cool the burn and ease my uncertainties.
He shakes his head, pushing his lips to my neck, licking. “I don’t have a condom.”
