Truth
Page 182
His t-shirt fell to her thighs as she quietly walked toward the living room. Her bare feet silently made their way down the hall. In the near darkness she saw the back of Tony’s head, bobbing in silence. The sofa where he sat was made up like a bed, complete with sheets, blankets, and pillows.
Claire walked around the sofa and met his gaze, “Tony? Are you all right?”
She saw the amber liquid in his glass, his vacant expression, and smelled the bourbon in the air. After his dark eyes looked her up and down, he finally replied, “No.”
“What’s this?” She motioned toward the sofa. “Why aren’t you in bed with me?”
“I don’t trust myself.”
Claire tilted her head sideways, “I trust you...”
His stare looked through her, “I went in there and kissed you. You were sound asleep.” Claire smiled, he continued, “I watched you, saw your expression and your bruises.” Claire flinched; she didn’t like her appearance. He grasped her dangling hand. “Stop that.”
“What?”
“You’re beautiful!”
She pulled her hand away, “I’ve seen me. Beautiful isn’t a word I’d use.”
Tony leaned back and rubbed his face. With a new focus, he demanded, “Take off my t-shirt.”
Claire stood taller. Her chin rose indignantly. “Excuse me?”
He stood. His body towered over her as his voice hardened, “Take off my shirt.”
“Tony, I didn’t bring any night clothes... I didn’t think you’d ...”
“I don’t give a damn about the shirt. I want to see you.”
Claire stammered. It’d been a while since she’d experienced this domineering personality. “See me?”
“I can see your face and your legs... I want to see what that bastard did to you.”
She reached for his hand and kept her voice steady, “I’m fine, but I want you to come to bed...with me.”
His stoic expression remained, “I planned to call for dinner. Instead, I found the bar. It’s been a rather stressful few days.” Claire inched closer. His sudden grasp on her shoulders stopped her progress. “I should never have let you return to California.” Shaking his head, he released her, and stepped backward. In a tone she remembered, he commanded, “I believe I’ve said this more than once... take off the damn t-shirt.”
Her innate training prevailed; disobeying wasn’t an option. She reached for the hem. Trembling, she lifted the cotton above her head and exposed her battered body, covered only by a pair of flesh-colored lace panties.
His hardened expression continued in silence... until her trembling registered. Suddenly, he fell to his knees and gently clutched her hips. His lips gently brushed her stomach and tenderly caressed her battered mid-section. The domineering voice disappeared; his actions spoke of love and possession. Holding his head for support, her fingers wove through his hair. Claire whispered, “Please, Tony, please, can we go to bed?”
His lips continued to caress her bruised body. Each kiss electrified her skin, melting her insides until her legs turned to jelly. When her knees buckled, she knelt before him and their eyes met.
“You’re mine.” His words weren’t debatable. He wasn’t asking.
“Tony, bed... please?”
“I’m trying so hard. You have no idea the restraint I’m enlisting...yet, all I can think about are his hands on you.”
“Tony, I’m fine. I’m all right. I’m with you.”
“But, you weren’t. You were with him.”
“He just wanted your money...”
Tony clutched her frame. His dark eyes burned with desire and despair. “I’m not talking about Chester.”
Claire froze. Her heart pounded in her chest. Somewhere deep, she knew the scene in the hospital went too well. She framed Tony’s face and watched as he searched her emerald eyes. With all her might, she tried to keep them subdued. “I wasn’t with you,” she whispered. “We weren’t together.”
His loud visceral response was unreadable.
“But now...” her lips touched his, “now, I want to be... please, Tony.”
One of the hands which held her waist now roughly seized her loose damp hair, pulling her head back, and exposing her slender neck. His lips met the soft skin with equal force. A shocked moan escaped her lips. Tony’s unbridled passion ignited her, creating a sudden rush of heat overpowering any impulses of pain crying out from her tender scalp. His rough stubble scratched her collar bone, and his voice resonated throughout the suite like a low growl, “Are you sure?”
The fervent lust tightened her insides. Momentarily, speech was lost. Finally, she whimpered, “I am.”
He continued his unrelenting assault, holding her tighter, wildly claiming everything before him. His fire consumed everything in its path, a passion which held no bounds. Claire never felt so desired; her whole body ached for his touch. When he paused she saw the flames in his dark eyes. The inferno wasn’t frightening; it fueled her desire. His low growl became more demanding, “You are mine.”
She kissed his stubbly neck, hearing, as well as feeling, a rumble from the back of his throat. Once again he pulled her hair, tipped her head, and bathed her in the aroma of whiskey. His glaring abyss penetrated as he demanded, “Say it!”
Her emerald eyes begged for understanding, uncertain of what he wanted.
Claire walked around the sofa and met his gaze, “Tony? Are you all right?”
She saw the amber liquid in his glass, his vacant expression, and smelled the bourbon in the air. After his dark eyes looked her up and down, he finally replied, “No.”
“What’s this?” She motioned toward the sofa. “Why aren’t you in bed with me?”
“I don’t trust myself.”
Claire tilted her head sideways, “I trust you...”
His stare looked through her, “I went in there and kissed you. You were sound asleep.” Claire smiled, he continued, “I watched you, saw your expression and your bruises.” Claire flinched; she didn’t like her appearance. He grasped her dangling hand. “Stop that.”
“What?”
“You’re beautiful!”
She pulled her hand away, “I’ve seen me. Beautiful isn’t a word I’d use.”
Tony leaned back and rubbed his face. With a new focus, he demanded, “Take off my t-shirt.”
Claire stood taller. Her chin rose indignantly. “Excuse me?”
He stood. His body towered over her as his voice hardened, “Take off my shirt.”
“Tony, I didn’t bring any night clothes... I didn’t think you’d ...”
“I don’t give a damn about the shirt. I want to see you.”
Claire stammered. It’d been a while since she’d experienced this domineering personality. “See me?”
“I can see your face and your legs... I want to see what that bastard did to you.”
She reached for his hand and kept her voice steady, “I’m fine, but I want you to come to bed...with me.”
His stoic expression remained, “I planned to call for dinner. Instead, I found the bar. It’s been a rather stressful few days.” Claire inched closer. His sudden grasp on her shoulders stopped her progress. “I should never have let you return to California.” Shaking his head, he released her, and stepped backward. In a tone she remembered, he commanded, “I believe I’ve said this more than once... take off the damn t-shirt.”
Her innate training prevailed; disobeying wasn’t an option. She reached for the hem. Trembling, she lifted the cotton above her head and exposed her battered body, covered only by a pair of flesh-colored lace panties.
His hardened expression continued in silence... until her trembling registered. Suddenly, he fell to his knees and gently clutched her hips. His lips gently brushed her stomach and tenderly caressed her battered mid-section. The domineering voice disappeared; his actions spoke of love and possession. Holding his head for support, her fingers wove through his hair. Claire whispered, “Please, Tony, please, can we go to bed?”
His lips continued to caress her bruised body. Each kiss electrified her skin, melting her insides until her legs turned to jelly. When her knees buckled, she knelt before him and their eyes met.
“You’re mine.” His words weren’t debatable. He wasn’t asking.
“Tony, bed... please?”
“I’m trying so hard. You have no idea the restraint I’m enlisting...yet, all I can think about are his hands on you.”
“Tony, I’m fine. I’m all right. I’m with you.”
“But, you weren’t. You were with him.”
“He just wanted your money...”
Tony clutched her frame. His dark eyes burned with desire and despair. “I’m not talking about Chester.”
Claire froze. Her heart pounded in her chest. Somewhere deep, she knew the scene in the hospital went too well. She framed Tony’s face and watched as he searched her emerald eyes. With all her might, she tried to keep them subdued. “I wasn’t with you,” she whispered. “We weren’t together.”
His loud visceral response was unreadable.
“But now...” her lips touched his, “now, I want to be... please, Tony.”
One of the hands which held her waist now roughly seized her loose damp hair, pulling her head back, and exposing her slender neck. His lips met the soft skin with equal force. A shocked moan escaped her lips. Tony’s unbridled passion ignited her, creating a sudden rush of heat overpowering any impulses of pain crying out from her tender scalp. His rough stubble scratched her collar bone, and his voice resonated throughout the suite like a low growl, “Are you sure?”
The fervent lust tightened her insides. Momentarily, speech was lost. Finally, she whimpered, “I am.”
He continued his unrelenting assault, holding her tighter, wildly claiming everything before him. His fire consumed everything in its path, a passion which held no bounds. Claire never felt so desired; her whole body ached for his touch. When he paused she saw the flames in his dark eyes. The inferno wasn’t frightening; it fueled her desire. His low growl became more demanding, “You are mine.”
She kissed his stubbly neck, hearing, as well as feeling, a rumble from the back of his throat. Once again he pulled her hair, tipped her head, and bathed her in the aroma of whiskey. His glaring abyss penetrated as he demanded, “Say it!”
Her emerald eyes begged for understanding, uncertain of what he wanted.
