Page 34 of Safe in Clua

THIRTY-FOUR

Felix

I unlock the front door of my house and push it open. She’s been quiet the whole drive here, lost in memories of God knows what. I don’t want to know, don’t trust myself not to hunt the bastard down. If he’s here—if he thinks he can take her from me in any way shape or form…

Her bags in my hands, I hold the door open with my back and let her walk past me into the house.

“Thanks.” She wraps her arms around herself and stares at the floor as I close the door, her face devoid of color—of everything that makes her who she is, and it kills me.

Her bags thud to the ground when I drop them by the bottom stair. She looks so small, so fragile against the massive door it’s almost hard to look at her knowing what she’s had to survive, what must be going on inside her head.

I sigh sharply and take a step towards her. “You can stay here until we figure this out, Laia. For as long as you want. You’re not in this alone anymore.”

She’ll never be alone again if I can help it.

The instant I’m within touching distance, she’s on me. Arms wrapped around my neck, breasts crushed against my chest, lips on my chin, my jaw, anywhere she can reach.

Hands on her shoulders, I gently push her back. “Laia, this isn’t—”

“He’s in my head.” Her bottom lip trembles. “I need him out of my head.” Wide green eyes blink up at me, begging me to make it go away, breaking my fucking heart.

My jaw clenches so hard it aches at the fear and broken sadness shining in her gaze.

A tear slips down her pale cheek and, in that moment, I’m pretty sure I’d do anything she asked me to.

“I can make you forget.” I dip my head and brush my lips over hers. Walk her back until her back hits the door, then kiss her again, harder, holding her face, tipping her head back so I can tilt my head and take it deeper.

She pulls in a breath and arches her body into mine, nipping my bottom lip with her teeth, sucking my tongue and moaning into my mouth, her hand snaking down between us, gripping me through my shorts.

I break the kiss on a pant. “Bedroom.”

“No. Now.” She shakes her head and reaches for my T-shirt, pushing it up my body, until I have to help her pull it over my head.

Staring at my chest, she slips off her tank and her bra, her face still ashen, the skin around her eyes tight.

This isn’t seduction. It isn’t romance. She wants to forget, and she’s using me to do it.

My tongue slides across my bottom lip when she glances up to my face as she pushes her leggings down. The warm night air thickens with the stress rolling off her when she meets my stare, pools of emerald green begging me to take over until the only thing in her head is me.

“Please.” Brows tilted up in the middle, lips turned down, she takes a shuddering breath and something inside me shatters.

I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and kiss her long and hard, my tongue sliding over hers, my fingers knotting in her hair until her breath hitches in her throat and her eyelids flutter closed, the tightness around them easing. Her whole body arches into mine until her breasts brush my pecs, the tension in her muscles easing a little more with every touch of my tongue and graze of my lips.

I pull back. Press my forehead to hers, both of us panting, my hands engulfing her delicate neck on either side, thumbs brushing her jaw.

Not even a second passes before the tightness is back, that fucking haunted pain dulling the green before my very eyes.

“I’ll make you forget.” My voice is rough, barely more than a growl as I drop to my knees before her, my gaze fixed on her face. “I’ll make you forget.” I press a kiss to her belly.

Her fingers sink into my hair, and she takes another long breath that lifts her small up-turned breasts, but she nods.

Still holding her stare, I press my mouth to the smooth mound of her sex and guide her leg over my shoulder.

The scent of her fills my head. Vanilla. Sweet and clean. The knowledge that I’m the only man to have ever had her like this, to ever have touched her like this, stirs something primal inside me. I part her folds and run my tongue from her ready entrance to the hard knot of her clit then press it flat against the tiny bundle of nerves. Her hips rock, her fingers twisting in my hair. Lips closed, I suck gently and her back comes away from the wall with a hiss of my name.

My cock throbs, painfully hard in the confines of my shorts. I ignore it and keep going until she’s pushing onto my face, her eyes closed, her mouth open in a wordless plea.

A low growl vibrates from my chest as I hold her open and thrust my tongue into her. She circles her hips, her movements jerky, her muscles pulsing around my tongue until I replace it with my fingers, thrusting them hard and fast, sucking her clit, letting her grind onto me until her body goes rigid, her grip on my hair grows almost painful and she comes, sagging against the door once the tremors stop.

Laia

My heart is beating so hard it can’t be healthy, my breathing coming in fast pants, spinning my head, my whole body is buzzing with … I don’t even know what, I can’t think.

I stare down my body to where Felix is on his knees watching me carefully. Concerned. Worried. I shake my head, but can’t find any words, still riding high on happy just-orgasmed endorphins.

The moment doesn’t last nearly long enough. As soon as the fog clears the fear returns, fisting my windpipe until it’s suffocating me—until Damon’s in there again.

“More,” I whisper, my voice not my own.

“Laia, we should talk about this.” Felix links his fingers through mine, his intense blue stare pleading for something I just don’t have to give right now.

Bravery. Strength. The ability to face this head on.

“I need you.” I sink to my knees in front of him. With shaking hands, I reach for his shorts—for his belt buckle. The moment he’s inside me, I’ll forget—be taken to that place where nothing else exists or matters beside the two of us and how he makes me feel.

“Laia,” he groans when I snap the belt from its buckle then undo the button beneath. “This is not the way to deal—”

“I don’t want to deal with it, I want to forget it.” I shake my head and lower his zip, free him from his shorts and wrap my fingers around his solid girth.

His hand covers mine and my gaze snaps up to meet his heavy-lidded stare. “Please. I can’t—” my breath hiccups in my throat.

His eyebrows lower, but he doesn’t pull back, he adds more pressure and guides my hand over the length of him, his attention staying on my face, concern written in every hard line of his forehead and tick of his jaw.

It’s too much. Too open. Tooraw.

I drop my gaze back to our hands, the crown of his cock, slick and dark, his abs pulled tighter with every slow stroke.

The need to have him inside me is almost overwhelming.

Without a word, I lift myself onto my knees and straddle his hips, at the first touch of him between my legs I meet his stare again, my mouth falling open as I lower myself onto him.

“Laia, I…”

I quiet whatever he’s about to say with my mouth on his and push down again, my breath stuttering at the stretch to accommodate his thickness. Hands on my hips, his gaze flicks to where we’re joined then back to my face and his pupils dilate. And then he’s pulling me down, filling me with an almost pained groan.

Everything just clears, my mind focused solely on the feel of him parting the tight walls of my core, on how his hardness pushes past my body’s resistance. Exactly what I need. I grind down into his lap, claiming every inch, every solid millimeter of him. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my ass, but he doesn’t guide me, just lets me ride him, lets me take my pleasure from him any way I want until I’m clenching around him, pulsing, and tightening and squeezing, my clit rubbing against the solid wall of muscle at the base of his cock until sparks shoot up my spine and everything else just falls away.

His stare stays locked on mine, eyes intense with worry and heat and lust.

I rock faster, take him deeper. “Harder.”

His breath brushes my face, and his grip on me tightens, guiding me up and dragging me back down, thrusting into me, harder and faster until an oblivion-inducing climax starts to grow in the depths of me.

A ripple of heat unfurls to the pounding rhythm of my heart, enveloping me in a wave of sensation, of mind-bending, fear-numbing sensation. I link my feet behind his back and writhe against him, riding the crest of it, dragging him with me until with a hoarse whisper of my name, he crushes me to him and follows me over.

Still panting like I’ve run a marathon, I stroke his serious face, brush a damp curl from eyes that watch me carefully, intensely, protectively. I smooth my thumb over the twitching muscle of his jaw, and trace the full line of his bottom lip, completely sure of only one thing.

I love him. I’m not going anywhere.

I wake with the sunrise.

Wrapped in Felix’s arms, I can almost kid myself that everything is fine—that everything is going to be fine. If it wasn’t for the fact that I know it’s not. Nothing’s going to be fine, and nothing can stop the niggling voice in the back of my mind.

Run. Run. Run.

I lie there, listening to Felix’s steady breathing, trying to keep my mind from straying back to last night and what would have happened if he hadn’t picked up the phone.

Damon tried to get in.

Every time I close my eyes, I can see him. His face. The sneer that curled his lip a second before his fist connected. The cold smugness that lit his eyes if I cried out.

All of it on repeat.

I need to get up, I’m freaking myself out.

With huge effort I wiggle free from Felix’s arms and tiptoe from the room, grabbing his T-shirt from the floor as I pass.

He doesn’t even twitch. I’m not surprised, he barely slept last night. Neither of us did. My fault.

My eyes flick to the huge windows before I sneak out the door. Was it really just yesterday I was looking out of that window, happy and content and safe?

I stare at the ceiling to stop the tears, my breath releasing.

Coffee. I need it.

In the kitchen, I spoon coffee grains into the machine and fill the pot with hot water. I need to jumpstart my frazzled brain. Last night, the decision had been simple. I love him, I’m staying. He won’t let anything happen to me.

But now, in the cold light of day, it doesn’t seem fair. Felix has a business, friends, family. I can’t expect him to put that all to one side for me. He shouldn’t have to, and I don’t want him to?. I won’t rely on anyone to keep me safe. I can’t. Not anymore. Not when I know what’s coming.

I know what Damon is capable of. He followed me here, he’ll follow me away from here too.

I should leave before anyone gets hurt.

Leave them all behind.

Felix. Kenzi. Mrs. Devon. Mylo. Pete and Simon. Rae and the girls. Clua.

My stomach rolls and my eyes water just thinking about it.

I run to the sink and wretch, my insides doing their very own interpretation of a Mexican wave, cold sweat prickling over my forehead. I don’t want to go.

Deep breaths. Deep, deep breaths.

I curl my fingers around the cold metal of the sink until my insides quiet and stop trying to take leave of my body. Apparently, my stomach and my heart are in cahoots against my head. They don’t want to go either.

At the sound of footsteps upstairs, I straighten and wipe my cheeks.

“You’re up early.” Felix’s voice is rough with sleep.

I turn with a quick smile, then return my attention to pouring a mug of freshly brewed coffee.

“Couldn’t sleep.” I shrug, hoping he won’t notice how my hands shake as I add milk and sugar. “You want?” I try to keep my tone light like my whole world didn’t just implode on itself last night—like I don’t have to make the decisions between keeping him with me or keeping him safe.

He doesn’t need to know anything until I’ve made up my mind. I move to lean against the island in the middle of the kitchen, glancing at him over the rim of my mug as I take a sip, the milky caffeine not even enough to warm my insides.

How can he be this beautiful? This good? Meant for me?

“Coffee can wait.” He closes the distance between us, removes the mug from my hand, places it on the counter then plants his hands on either side of my thighs. “Are you okay?”

I bite my lip and nod—force myself to smile.

“Good.” His gaze drops to his white Beach Hut T-shirt and where it stops high on my thighs. “I like your outfit.”

My skin heats under his inspection. “My clothes were still down here after…” I trail off, tugging at the hem, gaze roaming the plains of his naked torso, drawn down to the green checked pajama pants hanging low on his hips. I was a woman on a mission last night. And each time I’d woken, he’d been ready and willing. “I’m sorry.” I look away, embarrassed. “About last night.”

“Don’t ever be sorry forthat.” Hands on my waist, he lifts me to sit on the kitchen island, the marble cold against the backs of my thighs. His palms smooth over my knees, guiding them apart so he can lean between them. “As methods of distraction go…” He cups my face and presses his lips to mine in a soft kiss that instantly takes the edge off. “Yours are good.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back. “You taste like toothpaste.” I breathe in, letting his heady scent fill my head and push all thoughts of leaving from my mind.

“And you taste like coffee.” He kisses me again then sighs long and hard, his shoulders dropping, his dimples fading. “Are we gonna talk about last night?” A black curl has fallen over his forehead.

“Can we not?” A smile tugs at my lips and I run my fingers through the thick strands of his hair, pushing them back from his face. “Not yet.”

When he lifts his gaze to mine, my heart stutters. I love him. The feeling is as strong now as it was last night.

“I like waking up with you here,” he whispers, his hands flexing on my hips then moving to wrap me in a tight hug, his face pressed into my neck. “You smell like me.” His nose runs along my collarbone before he pulls back and hits me with his dimples. “And sex. I like it.”

His cell ringing cuts through my Felix-haze quick sharp, refilling my brain with the shitstorm that was last night. “Who would be phoning at this time?” I glance over to where his phone is charging on the other side of the kitchen.

With a resigned sigh he steps back, his hand lifting to rub the back of his neck. “Jackson said he’d call first thing.”

I straighten and cross my ankles, gripping the edge of the black marble worktop.

“Jackson,” Felix greets his friend and turns to lean back onto the worktop opposite the one I’m sitting on, his serious blue stare not moving from my face. “He did?” His eyebrows rise. “Okay, thanks, man.” He nods slowly. “I’ll let her know.”

My mouth goes dry, my lungs shrivel, my heartbeat thuds, too heavy for my chest, barely audible over the ringing in my ears.

It’s one thing to think he’s here—to be almost sure he’s here. It’s another thing completely to have it confirmed.

I cover my mouth with both hands. I think I’m gonna throw up. Or faint. Or throw up and faint. “He’s here.”

Jaw ticking, Felix folds his arms over his naked chest, his gaze scanning my face. “Jackson went to the port to see if he’d arrived on the island.”

I nod jerkily and press my lips together, blinking back the stupid, useless tears.

“He went through customs a week ago.”

My heart sinks, my blood going cold in my veins. “He’s here.”

“Was.” Felix moves back to stand between my thighs, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. “A Damon Black checked in and boarded the first Mexico-bound ferry this morning.”

“I don’t understand. He was here, but now he’s just gone?”

“Jackson thinks something’s off too. He’s going to keep the detail on your place, but you’re staying with me until we know more.”

I nod silently.

“Talk to me.” He curves his big body back so he can look into my down turned face.

I shake my head and plaster on a smile. “What’s there to say, he found me.”

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