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Spark (Electric Series #2) Page 12
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I ran my hand up and down his arm, smelling the liquor in the air. “Clay will be okay, Volt.”
“He just wants a better life for himself. But all this shit keeps holding him back.” He shook his head. “How is that fair? I grew up in a perfect home with perfect parents. And he struggles just to survive another day. I don’t get it.” He ran his fingers through his hair then cringed when pain shot up his arm. He lowered it again, resting it on the couch.
“He’ll get through it, Volt.”
A distant look came into his eyes, and I knew he slipped away.
I stared at his hands again and knew if I didn’t attend to them, he never would. I grabbed some supplies from his bathroom then cleaned up his hands. They were cracked and still slightly bleeding. I rubbed Neosporin into all the cuts and patted them dry before I wrapped his knuckles in gauze. I’d never done anything like this before but the technique came to me naturally.
Volt sat there, silent and still as a statue.
I clipped the gauze in place and set everything on the table before I handed him two painkillers.
He eyed them then pushed them away. Maybe it was because he drank too much or because he wanted to feel the pain. I would never know.
I moved in close to him and ran my fingers through his hair, comforting him with my touch. The smell of booze was overwhelming so I breathed through my mouth to avoid it. Even then, it burned my throat on the way down.
Volt turned his face toward me and watched me caress him. The distant look was still in his eyes, that drunken stupor I had never seen before. His reactions were slow and drawn out. His breathing was deeper than usual, and sometimes his eyes drooped like he might fall asleep.
I fingered his thick dark hair and felt the softness slide through my fingertips. His hair was slightly curly at the ends when he let it grow out enough. I’d never really explored him like this before. We’d hugged, even kissed, but I’d never comforted him quite like this.
His hand moved to my thigh and he squeezed it gently despite the pain it must’ve caused his knuckles. His fingers covered my entire thigh because his hand was so big. He could break my leg with a single movement if he wanted to.
Silently, he moved his gaze to mine and looked me in the eyes. He stared at me without blinking, searching for something only he could find. Our faces were just inches apart, and every breath reeked of the scotch he drank. He wasn’t himself, and I could feel the change in the air, the tingle that accompanied a special moment.
His eyes glanced at my lips.
I could feel the stare burn my mouth. I could feel his want and his desire. It burned me like the white-hot sun. But it was the kind of burn that felt good. The kind that made you feel warm in the midst of winter.
The alcohol was guiding him forward, and he lost his inhibitions quickly. Before he made the move, I knew it was coming. I could feel it in the air. The intensity shivered my spine.
He moved closer to me, his face slowly approaching mine. His eyes were still on my lips, studying them like a work of art.
My heart wouldn’t slow down.
His hand left my thigh and moved up my body until it reached my neck. Once his hand touched me, warm and calloused, I felt my breath hitch. His fingers dug into the bottom of my hair, touching me in a way he never did before.
I couldn’t breathe.
I remained still even though I knew exactly what would happen next. He was drunk out of his mind and not thinking clearly. His choices were made in a place other than his brain.
But I didn’t move away.
His hand moved to my cheek, his fingertips feeling the softness. He studied my face as he touched me, memorizing my features. His eyes were no longer hooded. They gazed at me without blinking, not wanting to miss a single moment.
His thumb drifted to my mouth and rested in the corner. He brushed the tip along my bottom lip, feeling every groove of my mouth. He leaned into me, getting closer than he ever had before.
His intensity was enough to burn me. I could feel it in every corner of the room. I could feel the pleasure before we even touched. I could feel the electricity without the plug.
He pressed his face against mine, his lips just inches away. His breath washed over me, and I could hear his excitement with every exhalation. His thumb brushed along my lip before it returned to my cheek.
And then he kissed me.
He pressed his soft lips against mine, his face tilted slightly to the right. Instead of feeling awkward or strange, I felt heat rush up my spine and directly into my brain. My body lit on fire, and I couldn’t think straight. All I felt was blinding pleasure, the kind that radiated to every cell of my body.
And that was just the first second.
He moved his mouth against mine, brushing our lips past one another. They danced to a song that wasn’t playing, and they fell into a natural rhythm.
My hand dug into his hair, and I gripped the strands as he continued to kiss me. It wasn’t the kind of kiss I expected him to have with anyone. It was slow and agonizing, just as much of a tease as it was satisfying.
Volt wrapped his other arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him, our chests touching as our mouths continued to move together. His desperation was obvious in every caress. He didn’t just want this kiss but needed it.
And I think I needed it too.
He parted my mouth just enough to give me his tongue, and that was even better than his lips. He breathed into me at the same time, making me come alive with every embrace.
My body melted and became boneless. All I could feel was a shock running through my veins. It felt so good, just like the last time we kissed. I was so high on depression that I wondered if it was really that good.
But it was.
Volt pulled me onto his lap, so I was straddling his hips and feeling his hard-on through his jeans. He deepened the kiss and pulled me further into him, wanting as much as he could have.
And that’s when I realized this needed to stop.
He was drunk and out of his mind, probably ten times above the legal driving limit, and he wasn’t thinking clearly. He was just doing whatever was necessary to make himself feel better.
I couldn’t let it go on.
I found the strength to pull away and end the hottest kiss I’d ever had. I looked into his eyes and saw that same look of desire. He didn’t want it to end either. To him, it had only just begun.
I moved off his lap, putting necessary distance between us. “Let’s get you into bed.”
He remained seated, still staring at me. His lips were slightly parted like my mouth should still be glued to his.
Redness burned in my cheeks so I busied myself cleaning up his mess of booze. Sage and I just broke up, so I didn’t need to feel guilty for kissing Volt, but it was still a low thing to do. Volt was drunk and had no idea what he was doing. He probably wouldn’t even remember it the next morning. I took advantage of him when I shouldn’t have.
And he would never do that to me.
***
I was wrapped up in Volt’s arms when we woke up the next morning. It was twelve thirty in the afternoon and far later than it should’ve been. His chest was pressed to my back, and with every breath he took, I felt it rise against me.
He stirred and released a quiet moan. “Fuck, my head hurts.”
I grabbed the two pills from the nightstand and a glass of water. “Here you go.”
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes before he swallowed the pills and downed the water. His hair was a mess from my fingers constantly running through it, and his hands were still bandaged. He took a look around the room before his eyes settled on me.
Judging the look on his face, he didn’t remember anything from the night before. He probably wasn’t even sure how I got there or why I was in this bed with him. It took him a few minutes to come back to the moment. “I’m not sure what happened. I remembered drinking. And I think I remember you coming over. But I don’t remember much else.”
<
br /> So he didn’t remember.
Phew.
“You told me what happened with Clay, and we sat together on the couch for a while.”
He nodded slowly. “Nightmare from hell.”
“I bandaged up your hands because they looked terrible.”
“Thanks…” He examined each one. “I hope they look better than they feel.”
“I doubt it.”
He ran his fingers through his hair before he lay back again, shirtless. “It’s one of those days when I don’t want to get up.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll make you some breakfast.”
“You don’t need to make me anything.”
“I don’t mind. You cook for me all the time.”
“But that’s different,” he said. “You’re my lady.” He fumbled for the right words. “I mean, you’re a lady.”
“I don’t mind whipping up something.” I jumped out of bed wearing his shorts and t-shirt. Everything was too big and baggy, but at least it was comfortable. I walked into the kitchen and found a box of pancake mix and some eggs.
Volt walked out ten minutes later, his perfect chest highlighted with muscle and strength. His stomach was lined with abs, and his arms were carved with muscle. I knew he had a nice body, but when he displayed it like that, it made me uncomfortable.
Because he was hot.
I thought about that kiss again. The way his mouth felt against mine was unreal. It burned me in so many good ways, lighting me on fire and making me sizzle like oil in a hot pan. It made the blood rush to my head and other places. Thankfully, he couldn’t remember. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye.
His sweatpants hung low on his hips, showing the noticeable V that reached up from underneath his clothes. He poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and drank it black. “You really don’t need to make me anything.”
“Well, I’m almost done so it doesn’t matter.”
He sipped his coffee at the counter and noticed the small package I left sitting there. It was the gift for Sage. The gift I would never give him. It would be weird to go to the game with someone else, so I would just sell them on Stub Hub. “What’s this?”
“Nothing,” I said as I shoveled the pancakes onto a plate. “Just Sage’s birthday gift.”
“And why is it here?”
“I had it on me at the time.”
He continued to examine it before he set it down. The realization came into his eyes, and he understood the significance. “Shit, I’m sorry. Last night was his birthday, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah…but it’s not a big deal.” I wasn’t going to make him feel bad for needing me. And I wasn’t going to make him feel like shit for being the reason I got dumped.
“I totally forgot. Taylor, I’m sorry.” He set his cup down and gave me a sad look. He didn’t need to tell me he was sorry because I could see it written all over his face.
“It’s really okay. Don’t even worry about it.”
“I’m sure he was pissed.”
“He wasn’t. We just rescheduled for another day.”
He finally relaxed when he realized he didn’t ruin anything. “Well, I’m still sorry. I was drunk out of my mind and wasn’t thinking clearly.”
I knew that all too well. “I know.” I set the plate on the table along with the maple syrup. “Now eat something. You’ll feel better.”
He sat down and helped himself to the piles of food. “Thanks. You’re a good wife.”
The idea of being married to him, having sex with him every day, and sleeping with him every night gave me a serious bout of chills. They ran up and down my body, making me come alive. I almost dropped my coffee because it shook me up so badly. The fact that picture looked so appealing freaked me out the most. “Wife Sife…” That barely rhymed and it didn’t make sense, but it was all I could think of.
Volt didn’t tease me for it. “Did I do anything stupid last night?”
Other than kissing me until my lips quivered, nothing. “No. You were pretty quiet.”
“That’s good. I’m glad I didn’t chase you away.”
Just the opposite. “You were fine. Just sad.”
“Well, that makes sense because I’ve never been so miserable.” He kept eating, but his eyes were glued to his plate.
“Clay will be okay.”
“I know,” he said. “But he shouldn’t have to go through that at all. Any man who hits a child is a sick motherfucker.”
I didn’t flinch at his profanity since it was appropriate—in this instance.
“I’m sure his father won’t touch him again. It would be stupid to do so.”
“Yeah, he probably won’t. But for how long?” Despite what Clay wanted, I didn’t think he should stay in that house. He should go into protective custody, and then a foster home. No child should be afraid in his own house.
“At least a year and a half.”
“But the father is getting away with a crime.” I shouldn’t argue about this now, but the whole situation bothered me.
“It’s what Clay wants. I tried to argue with him but he refused.”
“He’s a child. He doesn’t know anything.”
“He knows more than you think,” he said defensively. “Kids like him get by because they have to survive every day. Maybe he’s not skilled in math and English, but he’s a smart kid. He knows how the real world works. He knows how to solve complex problems. Give him more credit than that.”
“I didn’t mean to insult him,” I said calmly. “But I think, as adults, we should take care of him.”
“And I did,” he said darkly. “I almost killed a man. I made him shit his pants because he was so scared. A coward like that will do anything to avoid getting his face crushed in.”
Volt was getting worked up again, so I backed off. “How’s your food?”
“Delicious. Thank you.” He gave me a playful tap under the table.
When he touched me, I felt the excitement all over again.
What the hell was wrong with me?
“Are you seeing Sage today?”
I probably wouldn’t see him ever again. “No. I’m free.”
“You wanna go to the movies then?”
“You don’t have plans with Julia?” He told me he was going to stop seeing her, and I was curious to know if that happened yet.
“No.” He drank his coffee.
“Are you still seeing her?”
“Technically. I haven’t had a chance to break it off with her yet.”
I wondered if they were exclusive. Because if they were, he cheated on her last night—with me. And that made me feel like a slut.
“Why?”
I shrugged. “Just curious.”
***
After the movies and dinner, we headed back to his place. I wanted to spend the night again because I didn’t want to walk home.
And I wanted to be with him.
I should have run after Sage and tried to make up for what I did, but there was no motivation. When I told him Volt needed me, he kept making everything about himself and his birthday. I admit it was a dick move on my part, but he should have been more understanding and less childish. And I didn’t want to leave Volt because I knew he was still down. If he drank that much to begin with, he was spiraling out of control.
Volt must have assumed I was spending the night because he handed me some clothes before he sat on the couch. “What do you want to watch?”
“I don’t care.” I sat beside him and pulled a blanket over my knees.
“There’s basketball. Is that cool?”
“Sure.” I purposely kept some space between us but at the same time, I wished that space wasn’t there. All I could think about was that kiss. A part of me wanted to get him drunk all over again just so we could do it—without him remembering.
And I realized how creepy that made me sound.
“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
“Going home to see my fam
ily.” I would be there for a few days. It would be nice to see my parents. I didn’t see them as much as I would’ve liked. I talked to them even less.
“In Washington?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.”
“You’re having dinner with your parents?” He mentioned something before.
“I was until they changed their plans.”
“What are they doing now?”
“My mom has been wanting to go on a trip for a while, and she convinced my dad to take her on a cruise of the Mediterranean. So, I don’t have any plans.”
“Oh really?” I asked in surprise. “Will you see your brother?”
“Nah. We aren’t close.”
I wondered if there was a story there, but I knew I shouldn’t ask. If he wanted me to know, he would have told me. “Want to come with me to Washington?” I wasn’t thinking when I asked. I just didn’t want him to be alone on Thanksgiving. He already had a lot on his mind. Being lonely would just make it worse.
“Seriously? To meet your folks?”
“They’re really nice. I think you’ll like them.”
“I’m sure I will. I just… Do you think that will give them the wrong impression?”
I’d never brought a man around before. I’d never had anyone serious enough to introduce to them. “I’ll tell them we’re just good friends. They won’t look too much into it.”
“Then I would love to.” He gave me that smile that was in his eyes, not just his mouth. He seemed genuinely excited to visit my family, not just saying yes out of obligation.
“Cool. You’ll like Washington. It’s beautiful.”
“I’ve heard that before. It’s probably a lot different than New York.”
“Completely.”
He leaned back against the couch and stole some of the blanket. “Don’t be a hog, alright?”
“I’m not a hog. Do you hear me going oink oink?”
“No,” he said with a grin. “But I’d like to.”
“Yeah right. Like I’d ever do that.”
He stuck his hands in my sides and tickled me. “I’m not gonna stop until you do it.”