Torment (Carter Kids #4) Read online

"Tell me." I stepped closer to him. "Tell me what happened to you."

  "I told you I can't!"

  I was so frustrated I screamed. "Why not?" Running my hands through my hair, I yanked hard in pure and utter frustration.

  "Because I'm not the person you think I am and if you knew the truth you’d never look at me the same again," he all but roared, trembling…every inch of his body shook as he backed further away from me, blocking me out, pushing me away. His words echoed those of the past and I flinched, reliving every horrible moment.

  "You didn't give me a chance," I choked out brokenly. "You took my choices away from me. You just walked away..."

  "You know it wasn’t that simple, Hope."

  "What I know is that you had a choice, Jordan. You had a choice to confide in me and have faith in me, and you had the choice to not… You chose to not. And you broke my heart."

  "If I could go back in time and change it, I would," he choked out lifelessly. As if in a trance, he walked over to the couch and sank down. "Losing you." He shook his head. "Losing my hope… hurting you the way I did… God, Hope I'm suffering the consequences of my actions every damn day."

  "I'm still here," I heard myself tell him. Some part inside of me – my pride, I thought – was disgusted with me for my weakness. But Jordan was here, in my apartment, and that piece of my heart – that huge chunk of my soul – that had been lying dormant for all these years, had roared to life. Whether I looked pride-less or pitiful, it didn’t matter. All that mattered to me was him.

  With my heart hammering in my chest, I moved towards Jordan, not stopping until I was standing over him.

  Craning his neck, he looked up at me with the most hopeless expression I'd ever seen and my heart cracked open inside of me.

  Without a word, I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head, leaving myself completely vulnerable to this man. Hiding nothing from him.

  I heard his loud exhale of breath, followed by the word, "Stop."

  I didn't stop.

  Brazenly, I climbed onto his lap and straddled his hips. "I'm not a teenage girl anymore." I was all woman and he needed to see me. All of me.

  Jordan never once took his eyes off me. His stare caused a blush to creep over my milky skin.

  Raising one hand behind me, I freed my tangled curls from my hair tie, letting my hair fall heavily around my body. "And I'm still your wife." I could feel his rapid heartbeat hammering against his chest as I pressed myself against him.

  "You don't want this," he whispered, voice husky and torn. "Me." He let out a haggard breath and lifted his hands to my shoulders, with the obvious intention of pushing me away. Except…he didn't push me away. "I'm not good, Hope."

  Gripping my arm in his hand, he dragged me closer. "I'm not…" I could see the internal raging inside his green eyes. "You need to walk away from me," he begged. "Because I can't walk away from you again."

  Determined not to come out worse off, I took the plunge and leaned my face towards his, catching his bottom lip with my teeth.

  He hissed and the breath he let out smelled minty and fucking amazing. Pulling his lip into my mouth, I sucked hard. It didn't take long after that until he gave into me.

  Like a sick and cruel twist of fate, my bedroom door flew inwards then and in walked… Batman?

  "We need to talk," Batman announced as he closed my door and stalked towards me.

  It wasn’t until he was sitting on the foot of my bed and had removed his mask that I realized who I was dealing with.

  "Lucky," I said softly, taking in his less than stellar appearance. "Are you okay?" The fact that our costumes matched was something I wasn’t about to bring up. It was too weird, even for me.

  "Am I okay?" he repeated flatly. "I don’t know, Hope. Am I?"

  Squirming under the intensity of his stare, I managed to squeeze out, "I'm sorry about the other night."

  "I'm not," he countered without remorse or apology. "Not one fucking bit. I like you and I know you like me back, so I kissed you. And you enjoyed it." Shaking his head, he let out an exasperated growl. "And we almost… and now you're avoiding me like I'm a fucking disease?"

  "I haven't been doing it on purpose," I replied lamely.

  One look from Lucky told me he called bullshit on that theory.

  "Okay, okay. I'm confused," I admitted honestly. "You are the second guy I've ever kissed and the first guy I married." Sagging in defeat, I whispered, "I don’t know how to feel."

  Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Lucky nodded stiffly. "I can deal with confusion," he told me. "Hell, I can deal with being uncertain. But I cannot deal with being ignored."

  Turning to face me, he said, "Don’t treat me like a rebound, Hope." Exhaling heavily, he added, "I'm more than that and you know it."

  "What if I don’t want you to be more than that?" I whispered, feeling like the world's biggest bitch. It was the truth though, and this man deserved my honesty. "What if I need to forget about what happened between us, and concentrate on…"

  "On what?" Lucky interrupted, livid. "On your imaginary marriage?" He laughed humorlessly. "You wanna know what I think, Hope?"

  "Not really, but I'm sure you're going to enlighten me all the same."

  "A plus on that guess," he growled. "I think that you're brilliant. You're generous and smart and fucking gorgeous and I think it's a damn shame that you are where you are. I hate sitting back and watching you make the biggest mistake of your life."

  "I don't want to have this conversation," I shot back, feeling cornered. "You don't know anything about me…or Jordan, for that matter. You have no idea who I really am, or what I'm about."

  "I think I'm pretty good at judging people and I have your card marked, sweetheart," Lucky shot back, not giving an inch. "And I think you're scared."

  "I'm terrified most days, oh wise one," I shot back. "Tell me something the rest of the world doesn't."

  "Okay, how's this," he shot back. "You're so goddamn stubborn that you're afraid to admit you put your eggs in the wrong basket. He was a loss. You hate losing. And now you're too goddamn stubborn to call it quits on him. You don’t really love him anymore. You love the idea of loving him."

  "Don't presume to know anything about me," I warned, my voice rising like my temper.

  "Jesus Christ, he fucking ruined you," Lucky shot back impatiently. "How can you not see that?" Jerking to his feet, he stalked over to the door and threw it open. Turning back to me, he said, "That selfish bastard messed you up, but you don't have to settle for this…bullshit. He was your first boyfriend; he shouldn't be your last." With that, Lucky turned around and walked away, leaving me reeling.

  Frozen to the spot, I gaped after him, and contemplated my options. I could sit around and live the rest of my life the way I had lived the past several years– miserable and empty. Or I could take a risk on the stranger who walked into my life two months ago and made me feel again…

  Jumping off the bed, I ran out of my room and down the staircase, with only one thought in my mind. Stop him from leaving. I didn’t want to be on my own again.

  When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I spotted Lucky moving towards the front door. Leaving, my mind told me, flashing the word in bright neon letters, and I barreled towards him, the fear of spending another day of my life alone almost too much to comprehend.

  "Hey," I called out. "Lucky, wait." I managed to catch ahold of his cape just as the front door swung inwards.

  "Don’t go," I panted, looking up at him.

  "I'm not playing games here," Lucky told me, and the vulnerability in his voice hit me like a crater. "Don't mess me around, Hope."

  My hand found his of its own accord. "I'm not trying to," I told him, shivering at the feel of his warm touch. "I need…" The words that had been on the tip of my tongue shriveled and died the moment my eyes landed on the person in the doorway of my parent's house.

  An achingly familiar pair of green eyes scorched me.

  Eyes th
at haunted my every waking hour.

  Jordan looked from me to Lucky and then nodded stiffly. "Keychain."

  "Oh god," I gasped, feeling every ounce of blood drain from my face.

  ****

  Chapter Eight

  Teagan

  Banks' Beggin for Thread blasted through the Carter's stereo as I attempted to dance in circles – more like waddle – around my husband.

  Sweat trickled down my chest, resting in my newly formed cleavage. Boob sweat was a new thing for me and it was one of the only things about pregnancy that I was enjoying.

  Yes, I, Teagan Messina enjoyed boob sweat.

  I knew it sounded a little batshit, but I was a woman who'd never had much more than a pair of fried eggs in her bra. So I was relishing the boob sweat like the early Christmas miracle it was.

  Our earlier argument long forgotten, Noah was looking at me like I had that damn title belt.

  As a fighter, Noah was irresistible, but dressed as a doctor?

  God, that took his sex appeal to a whole new level.

  Every woman in this house was gawking at him, making me work it a little harder. My hands on his body were my way of saying, back off bitches, he's mine.

  Our love wasn’t rational.

  It wasn’t healthy.

  It was intense and fiery and passionate.

  I loved him and I hated him. And even when I hated him, I couldn’t imagine a person I loved hating more than him.

  Crazy, huh?

  I knew it didn’t make sense.

  He was the opposite of me.

  He didn’t understand me or give me space when I needed it. We butted heads on a daily basis.

  We never saw eye to eye.

  But I loved him. Oh god, I loved him more than all of that crap. There was no possible explanation to explain how we had managed to hold it together for as long as we had.

  All I knew was there was a fire inside of me, a fire that had been lit by Noah Messina when I was seventeen years old and it was not extinguishable. No one could put that fire out in my heart. Not even me. I was all wrong for him.

  There had never been a worse match than me and Noah. But it didn’t matter.

  We were still hanging in there, hoping for the best and expecting the worst...

  Noah held my hands as I rubbed my body against his. I was slow and awkward and he never once complained. His eyes were on my face the whole time as he let me take control. He enjoyed me dominating him with my badass dance moves.

  "You're fucking gorgeous," Noah told me, but I didn’t feel like it. I felt like a round barrel. "So fucking sexy."

  Okay, so maybe when he purred and petted me it helped. It made me feel all squiggly inside. This man was mine. Crazy…

  The look in his eyes was so heated and it only urged me on. I was burning everywhere. Grinding against my husband with him submitting to me, knowing he was so powerful and lethal and yet he gave himself over completely to me. Tonight he was my beta and he was enjoying every second of it.

  "Oh, how I love that ass," Noah called out over the music with a flirty wink. With his hands on my disappearing waistline, he drew me close and pressed a kiss to my lips. "I am only yours," he whispered against my lips. Reaching up, he cupped the back of my neck with one large hand. "You hear me, Thorn?" His alcohol scented breath flooded my senses as he spoke to me. "Only yours." Pressing his forehead to mine, he continued to cup the back of my neck with one hand, while the other was pressed firmly to the base of my spine. "Always you, my little thorn."

  It wasn't easy being with a man like Noah Messina, especially now since I knew I wasn’t in the best shape. And knowing he was coveted not just by other women, but millions of women...it was a hard pill to swallow.

  "Don't let me down, Noah," I said, a little too vulnerable for my liking, as I clutched at the scrubs he had on. "Please." My voice was a mixture of lust and desperation as I gazed up at the only man who'd been crazy enough to love me back.

  "I've got no plans on it, Thorn," he whispered, eyes never leaving my face.

  He was everywhere. On me. All around me. I was drowning in all things Noah Messina and I couldn't think of a better way to go.

  "There's nothing better than you." Grinning wolfishly, he added, "Why would I look at an Android when I have an iOS right here?"

  "I'm an iOS?" I teased. I could feel my cheeks redden, but I didn't look away.

  "Top of the range, baby," Noah shot back with a wink.

  In this moment, he looked so innocent and…young. It was easy to forget that Noah was only twenty-six. He always seemed so much older in body and in mind. It wasn't hard to know why. Years of being thrust into an adult world and spending the first portion of adulthood in a prison cell would do that to a man.

  "Let's get out of here," he purred, tugging me closer. "We can go find a closet and copulate." Winking, he added, "For old time's sake."

  "This is your party, Noah." I bit back a moan. "We can't just bail."

  "Exactly." Dropping his hands to my ass, Noah squeezed tightly, literally lifting me off my feet. "It's my party and I can fuck if I want to…"

  It was times like these that I was glad my husband was so huge. It helped, knowing that he was two hundred and seventy pounds of pure muscle and man. He could toss me around the place, big belly and all, not that he would, but it helped my confidence knowing he could do it without breaking a sweat.

  "Well," I breathed, totally won over by the idea. Reaching up, I pulled on both ends of his stethoscope. "If it's doctor's orders…"

  Grinning like a pair of airhead teenagers, Noah and I rushed out of the living room, on the hunt for a dark room with a lock on the door.

  ****

  Noah

  Jesus Christ.

  The only thing I could focus on was getting my wife into a room and getting her out of that dress.

  With her hand wrapped firmly in mine, I guided us through the crowd; the need to get her naked, making me break into a trot. I was actually fucking trotting with excitement.

  What the hell had this woman done to me?

  Barreling down the hallway, I grabbed the handle of the first door I found and dragged Teagan inside. Without thinking twice about it, I flicked on the light, knowing her fear of the dark would cause her to clam up.

  "Dammit," Teagan exclaimed in dismay as she looked around the room. "We can't do it in here."

  I almost cried in frustration. "Why the fuck not?"

  "Because it's Cash and Casey's bedroom," she told me, pointing to the twin beds on either side of the room and numerous chests overflowing with toys.

  I scratched my head, still not getting her hesitance. "Again, why the fuck not?"

  "Because it's creepy!" She walked over to one of the beds. She sat down and picked up a plastic figurine of Spiderman. "See?" Holding it out in front of her like it was some sort of incriminating evidence, Thorn hissed, "We can't."

  I looked at the Spiderman doll and then my wife. It took me all of two seconds to make a decision. "Yeah," I told her before yanking off my shirt. "I'm good with it."

  "Noah!" Teagan squealed, feigning horror. "You are seriously disturbed."

  "I'll tell you what's disturbed," I growled as I shrugged out of my pants and prowled over to her, taking note of my wife's sudden change of mind. "My dick from all that sexy dancing."

  For a woman who'd just told me a minute ago that we couldn’t, she sure had come around to the idea. Stripping off her clothes in record time for a woman in her condition, Teagan lay back on the bed and grinned sheepishly up at me.

  Climbing over her, careful not to put any of my weight on her, I ducked my head and caught her lips with mine. I was drunk and horny and she tasted like fucking heaven on my lips.

  I loved the way we fit together. She took what she needed and it just so happened that what she needed was the same as me. I loved everything about her.

  Bear with me, I wanted to tell her. I wanted her to know that it would get better. I was on the way
up. I wasn’t going down the wrong path. Not as long as she stayed by my side. I needed her to stay by my side.

  Physically and emotionally she filled me up. She was all I needed. In the mind. In the bed. She gave it all to me. I was never giving her up.

  "Nothing's gonna stop me from coming home to you," I told her, I fucking vowed, as I dropped my lips to the curve in her neck. "You've got nothing to worry about, Thorn." Pressing a kiss to the skin covering her racing pulse, I moved lower, not stopping until my head was between her legs and my tongue was pressed to her throbbing clit.

  "I just want you safe," Teagan cried out as she thrust her hips upwards and her pussy into my mouth. "I couldn’t…cope with anything ha-happening to…hmm…. you!"

  The more she moaned, the more I sucked, making the most of this moment. It would be a long time before we'd be together again. Thumbing her clit, I buried my tongue inside her slit, wanting nothing more than to take her hard and rough. But I couldn’t. That baby I'd put inside her kept me sane and my urges at bay.

  "Here," I whispered, climbing up her body. Rolling onto my back, I dragged Teagan on top of me. "Climb on top of me."

  Immediately, I was met with resistance. "No," Teagan hissed. Rolling onto her back, she tried to pull me down on her. "You go on top."

  "I don’t want to hurt you," I whispered, kissing her almost frantically, the need to be inside her painful now. "Just go on top, Thorn," I pleaded between kisses as I tried to pull her onto my lap.

  "No," she gasped, slapping my hands at every attempt.

  Confused, I pulled back and stared at her. "Why the hell not?"

  "Because I'm big and fat and resemble Santa Clause," she muttered before slamming her mouth against mine. "Just. Climb. On. Me," she whispered between kisses. "Please."

  "Okay, stop." As much as it pained me to stop, and it fucking pained me, I sat back on my knees and looked down at my wife. "You are eight months pregnant," I told her. "And you are fucking beautiful."