Page 54 of Cherry Beats

Presley ran soap over every inch of my body, even bending to wash the backs of my legs—always keeping eye contact with me no matter where he went. When he washed my hair and slowly ran his nails over my scalp, I tightened again. It was erotic to let him take care of me like this, and I had a feeling it was what we both needed. I needed him to show me there was more to this than a quick booty call with some well-timed one-liners thrown in, and he needed me to let him enjoy my body without protesting.

His fingers roamed, trailing between my legs before slowly rising all the way up my tensed stomach, between my breasts, up my neck, over my parted lips, until they slid behind my ear, grabbed my hair and pulled me close for a kiss to end all kisses.

It was firm, needy, and intoxicating. The weight of the water pouring all around us like a security blanket.

I wished with all my wishes that we could stay right there in that moment forever, but then Presley pulled away—his eyes saying everything his voice couldn’t.

He was sorry. He wanted me. He was sorry. He didn’t know what to do. He was sorry.

I had to force myself to look away, and just like that, he turned the shower off, stepped out and grabbed a towel. Helping me out, he watched my every step and finished by wrapping the towel around my body before pulling me in for a hug. When he rested his chin on my head, I could hear the way his heart beat firmly in his chest.

“I never mean to cause you anything but happiness, Tess,” he eventually whispered.

“I know.”

“But I think I should go now.”

I nodded against him, scrunching my face up to hold back the tears. “You’re so selfish,” I half-joked in a whisper.

He sighed into my hair. “I know.”

I felt his smile against me before he began to guide me into my bedroom. I got dressed into some clean pyjamas, wrapped my damp hair into a bun on the top of my head, never once glancing at him as he got dressed beside me. I wanted to. My God, did I want to, but just for now, I had to concentrate on myself. By the time I was standing in front of him, wearing some little blue shorts and a baggy grey jumper, he was dressed back in his jeans and white T-shirt, looking every part of the rugged rock star he was.

Presley pushed his hair back with both hands and then rested them at the back of his neck, bringing his elbows in front of him as he studied me.

“You going to be okay out there in the wild?” I asked, twisting the edge of my jumper in my hands just for something to do.

“I’ll survive. I’ve got a ride. It’s on its way.”

“Awesome. I can show you the fire escape route if you need it.”

“The one with the big green sign over it saying Fire Exit?”

“How did you know?”

“These last three years have taught me to always look for an escape route in any situation, Tess.”

My face fell, and I looked up just in time to see him stepping towards me. Before I could move, he had my chin pinched between his finger and thumb and was leaning closer—so close his full lips were only a breath away from mine.

“One day, I hope we stop walking out on each other. Until then…” He leaned down to kiss me goodbye.

When he left, the door slammed shut behind him, and my whole body flinched, leaving me cold and lonely. I didn’t cry. I didn’t pine. I didn’t whimper or fall to the floor in a tangled mess of broken bones with a shattered ego and a bruised heart. Not this time. This time I held it together. Just. But ‘just’ was better than breaking, and I took it.

For now.

Untilthen...

Chapter Fifteen

BB’s was quiet the next morning, the sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that surrounded three sides of the building. I loved it like this—when all the jobs had been done, and we were getting ready to open up the doors and let the first customers trickle in. I loved sitting down with the books and working my way through stock and accounts. It gave me something to put in order, where most of the time everything in my head felt like a colour explosion going off.

Bourbon’s daughter Felicity was the perfect age of six, and today she was at work with her daddy, keeping herself entertained with a colouring book and some pencils. Her little head was tilted to one side as she studied the picture in front of her. She had a habit of trapping her tongue between her teeth when she was concentrating, and I loved the way her father had learnt how to braid her hair so that he never had to ask for help from a woman. He had the whole independent dad thing going on.

“What are you colouring in, Fliss?” I asked her as the two of us sat at the same table, lost in our own worlds.

“A dolphin,” she answered sweetly. “They’re my favourite. Daddy says he’s going to take me on a boat to see some someday.”

“Wow. That’s impressive. I’d come along with you, but if your daddy is planning a holiday, he’ll no doubt need me here to look after this place for him. I always miss out on the fun stuff.”

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