Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise #2)(58)
“What are you thinking?” he asked, pinching his eyebrows together, concentrating on my face.
“It’s nothing,” I said, attempting to sit up, but his heavy arm over my waist forced me back.
“No, it wasn’t. One minute you had that innocent Sofie look, and the next, you looked like you were going to be sick,” he growled. “What happened?” He shifted up on his elbow to tower over me. His eyes concerned, but his voice on edge.
“It’s nothing … bad,” I emphasized, glancing away from him. It was a lie. It was horrible. The images of him, tangled up with her, overwhelmed me to the point I couldn’t sleep some nights. Add in the nights I envisioned the death of my parents at the hands of Atom Callahan, and it left me one tired, strung out woman.
“It’s not nothing,” he stated, shifting so his body drew closer to mine. He forced me to look at him with a hand under my chin. Pulling my face to him, I couldn’t hold it in. His look was too intense, drawing the truth out of me.
“I keep seeing you with her,” I said quietly. “I can’t get the images out of my head.”
“Sofie,” he said, leaning forward. I thought he’d kiss me, but it seemed too inappropriate for the moment. Instead, he squeezed my chin tighter, as I fought to turn away, and rested his forehead on mine.
“Sofie, it wasn’t like that. Ever.” He exhaled softly on my face. Those who think they need the bite of a snake to sting, have never had a snake breathe on them. The sweetness of the oxygen from him to me was like a drug. I wanted to believe the sincerity in his voice, but I couldn’t give in to venomous lies. I attempted to twist again, fruitlessly, as he was stronger than me.
“Sofie, I’m going to be honest here. I’m so worried I’ve already lost you, there isn’t much else to do but be truthful. I wasn’t faithful before. Before I knew I’d ever see you again. Before I thought I might have a chance with you again. I can’t say it was often, but it was enough that I know that the truth hurts. Hurts your feelings. Hurts our relationship. I didn’t intend to kiss Malinda after the fight. I was pissed that you were late, and I was hyped up, like fights make me. When I saw you, I wanted to strike out, but I also wanted to protect you. I couldn’t let my father see me come for you. I allowed Malinda to claim me like that, as a distraction. It was a bad decision. A very bad decision.”
I snorted again, this time in disgust. It didn’t deter him. His words were digging a hole deep in my heart, and he didn’t stop to notice I was being buried alive. I couldn’t breathe.
“It was a mistake. One of a million I’ve made with you. I don’t think I’ve gotten a handful of times right with you, but I want to make things good,” he pleaded. “I want a million times to make things right.” His voice shifted and so did his leg. It swung over mine, pinning me down, and slipping between me. My core pulsed faster than my heartbeat, but I could not give in. I could not let him seduce me with pretty words. Words that I desperately wanted to believe, and he seemed desperate to deliver.
“I … I just don’t know,” I said. He pulled his forehead up slowly, and dragged his hand down to my neck. His fingers circled my throat then flattened and slipped over my racing heart. My sweatshirt was thick, but there was no way he could miss the rapid thumping inside my chest. He closed his eyes and shifted his leg away from my sensitive parts. His hand remained, for a moment longer, as if he was drawing strength from the beat within me.
He sat up then reached for my hands, dragging me upward. He still wore only the towel, which loosened a little in his shifting, and hung precariously lower on his sexy as hell hips. I had a plaid blanket at the end of my bed, and Cain picked it up. Draping it around his waist, he twisted the material over the towel. He slipped a hand under the plaid, and I groaned at the thought of where that hand was headed. He deck-changed in front of me, removing the towel from under the blanket effortlessly, without exposing an inch of him. He didn’t seem concerned that the blanket still exposed a thick leg, or that the heavy length of him was prominent, hard and erect behind the soft wool. My eyes were directed to that glory and I had to tear them away. He looked like a modern Celtic warrior. I blushed instantly, but he ignored the pink glow over my skin. He held out a hand and I followed him to my couch.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay until the storm passes,” he said, nodding toward the dark window. “It’s sort of risky on the bike in a torrential downpour.”
“Of course,” I replied, sitting next to him, but not too close, curling a leg under me. I reached for the remote, aimed it at the television and the blue light lit up the room. We remained in silence after that, both of us staring, but not really watching the set.
My mind raced with how bad I’d f*cked things up. If I could turn back time; I’d do a thousand things differently. My first thought had been I wouldn’t have married her on a drunken whim, but then I realized that wasn’t true at all. Sofie had been a welcome temptation, when I needed to escape my reality. Accused of killing a man can make one cold and believe he has the power to do so. I was angry enough at the world before that fight, and even more so after it. While I hadn’t killed Montana, I believed that I could have. It seemed to be in my blood when I thought of my father, and what he’d done to Sofie’s parents.