No Tomorrow (Page 67)

“We learned in art class that white is the absence of color,” Lyric says, and Blue nods.

“I’d agree with that.”

“I’m going to put my brightly colored flowers in a vase. You two want to come in the kitchen?”

“I actually showed up with the bagels this time,” he jokes as he follows me.

I throw a mock glare at him as I retrieve a vase from the cabinet under the sink. “Very funny. I was actually just thinking that I may have to find a creative way to detain you so you can’t disappear again.”

A hint of wickedness glints in his eyes. “Lookin’ forward to that,” he says under his breath as he removes the drinks from the tray.

“I hope you like hot cocoa?” he asks, putting one of the cups in front of Lyric, who’s already sitting at the table picking out a bagel.

“I do!”

“And I hope you still like vanilla soy latte with a dash of cinnamon?” His eyebrow tweaks up as he hands one of the cups to me.

“I can’t believe you remembered.”

He takes the empty seat at the table, the one no one has ever sat in before. “I remember everything about you.”

“Will you remember everything about me?” Lyric asks, breaking through the silent conversation Blue and I were having with our eyes locked onto each other.

“I will from now on,” Blue vows.

“I have a present for you. I made it myself. Can I go get it, Mom?”

“Sure.”

Blue puts his hand on my thigh under the table as Lyric runs to her room and comes back with a photo album with a big black ribbon wrapped around it. I helped her put it together, but it was all her idea to give him an album full of pictures of her, me, Acorn, and Archie. She also added a few short poems she’s written. She has a strong creative spirit that seems to be getting stronger as she grows up.

Lyric narrates each photo for Blue, and his hands shake as he turns the pages. I hope her squirming into his heart isn’t too overwhelming for him. Other than myself, Reece, and Acorn, I’ve never heard him mention anyone else who’s been in his life for any length of time. No ex-girlfriends, no other friends, not even family.

“This is awesome,” he says with glistening eyes when he’s reached the end of the photos. “And your poems are epic. Did you know I write poems and songs, too?”

“Mom told me. But she said I’m not old enough to listen to your music yet because you say bad words.”

He laughs and gives me a playful side-eye. “She did, huh? Well, that’s probably true. I could write you a poem and give it to you next time I see you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Can I tell my friends I have a dad now?” she asks, touching the ends of his hair.

“Um, yeah.”

“Are you going to tell your friends about me, too?”

“I already did. I told them you’re the cutest, smartest, most badass kid in the world.”

“Blue….” I nudge him under the table with my foot.

“What?” he says innocently. “She is.”

Lyric giggles and I shake my head at them. I can already tell Blue’s going to be the ‘cool dad’ who probably won’t ever be much help in the child discipline department, but that’s okay. He’s here, he’s making an effort, and we’re all getting along great. I can’t ask for anything else.

“I don’t want to leave.”

Five words.

That’s all it took to sway me.

I’m weak. Defenseless. Craving his touch. Crazy in love.

Lyric went to bed a little over an hour ago, and we’ve been on the couch all tangled up in each other watching a movie since.

Kissing, mostly. There hasn’t been much movie-watching at all.

He rolls on top of me and leans up on his elbows to study my face. “Let me stay…” His mouth covers mine, his tongue licking over my bottom lip, teasing me with what’s to come.

“Blue….”

“Say yes.”

I undo the remainder of the buttons of his shirt and push the material away, running my fingertips from his chest down to his narrow waist.

“Okay,” I say between kisses. “But you have to be in the guest room when Lyric wakes up. Not in my bed.”

“I can do that.” His lips curve into a smile against mine. “Didn’t you say you were going to do something so I couldn’t leave?”

“Do I need to worry about you leaving when I’m not looking?”

I tilt my head to the side and my eyes fall closed at the nip of his teeth and the flick of his tongue on my neck.

“Not a chance, Ladybug,” he whispers.

“You better not.”

Lifting his head up, he touches my chin, coaxing me to meet his eyes.

“Trust me.” He takes a deep breath. “Please?”

I nod, keeping my eyes on his. “I’m trying to,” I say softly.

He stands and lifts me in his arms, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me to my bedroom, gently putting me on my feet next to the bed.

“Leave it open a little,” I say when he turns to close the door behind us. “I never close the door all the way.”

He swaggers toward me with a panty-melting grin on his face, his hands unbuckling his leather belt. “Think you can be quiet, Ladybug?”

Nope.

“I’ll have to be, won’t I?” My pulse flutters with anticipation as he closes the space between us, jeans unzipped and hanging low on his hips. I skim my fingers over the tribal ink design that spans his abs and disappears beneath the band of his boxers.

“Yeah. You will.” The low huskiness of his voice makes me breathless for more. “I think I’ll have to keep your pretty little mouth extra busy.” He fingers a lock of my hair, winds it around his hand, and tugs me closer. “Just to be sure.”

I’ve missed bedroom Blue.

My lips part to reply but his mouth crushes mine, his tongue diving deep, the metal bar sliding against the roof of my mouth. I clutch the fabric of his shirt, yanking it off his shoulders and down his arms. He shrugs it off and wraps his hands around my waist, lifting me off my feet. Our tongues clash and caress in a dance of love and desire.

He lowers me onto the bed and removes my clothes like he’d unwrap an unexpected gift. Slow. Quiet. Intent. His mouth and hands explore. Reclaiming what he never lost.

My body hums under his touch.

A soft moan slips from my lips when his hand travels up my thigh, fingers sliding into slickness.

“Shh…” he whispers, kicking off his boots and stepping out of his jeans.

His silhouette is stunning in the moonlight filtering through the window. Wide shoulders and chest taper down to that muscular v of his waist. He’s a six-foot-four onyx, rock star statue.

“Lie down, beautiful.”

I fall back long ways across the bed and watch him walk around to the other side of the bed. Grabbing my shoulders, he pulls me until my head is at the edge of the bed. Bending over me, he moves his hands over my body, caressing my breasts, dipping down to my waist. He kneels on the bed, legs spread above me. Grasping and spreading my thighs, he lowers his face between my legs.

Lips on lips. Wet on wet.

Bending my neck backward, I take his cock into my mouth. I grasp his hips, pushing and pulling him in sync with his thrusts. He spreads my thighs wider, fucks me with his tongue and two fingers. My legs vice around his head. His hair is like cool silk against my sensitive skin.

His erotic growls vibrate against my lips. He moves us until my head hangs off the bed, and his shaft sinks deeper; pushing against my throat. I gag on his width and he eases his thrusts, softens and slows his tongue, lets me do the same. I surrender to the lust and take more, sucking harder. His mouth is pure magic on my pussy, sending me into that frenzied euphoric place that feels like heaven. I try to hold back, not wanting the ecstasy to end. It’s impossible. He plays my body like he plays his guitar. Expertly. Effortlessly.

My thighs tremble. I shudder against his mouth, whimper and moan around his throbbing cock. His moans soon echo mine. I swallow his hot spurts and rake my nails down his thighs.

He separates from me and turns his body around. Our mouths are wet and hot when he kisses me and moves between my thighs, filling me with his still-hard cock.

Leaning up, he stares down into my face, brushing stray hairs from my damp forehead. “I love you, Ladybug,” he whispers. “This time is forever. I promise.”

I slide the curve of my foot up and down his leg. “Blue… don’t make promise—”

His lips linger on mine. “I promise. The only thing in my life that I’ve ever known for sure, the only thing that’s always with me, even when I’m fucked up, is that I love you and you love me. I need you to believe in us.”

“I do. I always have.”

I’ve heard his promises before, but this time is different. This time, the emotion in his voice, the shimmer in his dark ocean eyes, prove that he believes his words.

I’m just not sure either of us can trust him.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“Of course Lyric can stay with us for a week,” my mother says, not looking up from the crossword puzzle she’s doing. “Where did you say you were going? It’s a business trip?”