Paradise Found: Cain (Paradise Stories Book 2) (3 page)

“Tell me you remember?” I pleaded. My heart fell to my stomach as I held my breath.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”

I pulled back in surprise, my eyes widened. My expression had to betray a strange sense of glee.

“I’ll never forget,” she whispered, averting her eyes as she looked down at her raised skirt and my retreating hand. She pushed the material downward hastily then shoved my wrist away from her.

“I’ll never forget…that you’re an asshole.” Propelled backward as she braced against my chest, I stumbled in surprise at her use of profanity. My girl didn’t swear, but the venom in her voice proved she’d changed. My sweet temptation was tainted by the poison of me. What I’d done to her. I let her escape as her words sliced through me. I was an asshole.

I don’t know why I let him touch me like that. Each time he called my name, I heard the desperation then convinced myself I imagined it. He couldn’t have wanted me like I had wanted him. It had been almost a full year. Too much time had passed. Convinced he’d known the touch of other women, I hated him for it.

But the second his hand gripped my upper arm, every cell of my being vibrated with the desire to be caressed by him. Alert and prickling with the renewal of his touch, my body betrayed me. The anticipation of his travelling hand, teasing me while it brushed against the side of my breast, was breathtaking. Literally. I couldn’t breathe. He was everywhere. In my face, in my hair, and heading toward a place I most desired he rediscover. My thighs spread only slightly, but I knew he’d fight his way between them. I was hypnotized by the glare of his eyes, the tone of his soothing voice, and the sting of his fingers. Cobra. The name suited him.

Fingers dove into me and I was paralyzed. My heart slowed as the blood flowed downward. A steady pulse beat between my legs as his fingers devoured a primal feast. He twisted and curled, and I was gutted. The only part of me that could move was the area within me that he explored. The rhythm became a living thing and my hips rocked over his fingers. I rolled against the cup of his hand. He was deep within me, like he’d been on those summer nights last year. Those nights where I knew I’d never be whole again without him. Those nights where he stripped me of a protective skin and savored every inch of me then spit me out like a used seed. I was nothing to him.

While my anger grew, my body ruled. I responded to the sting of his touch, especially when he threatened to stop. I could have threatened him harm, if my own body wasn’t wound tight with a focus on one thing. Release. It had been almost a year without the touch of another, without the touch of Cain, and I wanted it. I demanded it. I deserved it. When relief washed out of me, I was primed for another round until my mind caught up to my body. I had endured plenty at his departure from my life.

“Tell me you remember?” The gentle cadence of his voice was so out of character with the rough commands of his usual tone. My attention snapped to our position. His hand was coming out from under my skirt. A drop of my own release slowly trickled down my thigh. Shame washed over me.
How could I have let this happen?
He hadn’t even said hello. He just took from me and I gave in. He knew he could have me, like I was certain he’d trapped many women before and after me. Innocent fools ensnared by the charm of him.

Pushing against him, forcing him backward, it allowed me to slip out from under him. I needed space. I needed air. I couldn’t breathe only him or I’d be ensnared again. Once the Cobra bites, the sting lasts indefinitely.

I rushed down the hall, grateful that he didn’t pursue me. Racing to the closest door labeled
Women
, I fell against the door after entering. I needed anywhere that he couldn’t get to me, but I sensed I was no longer safe. He’d been looking for me, for whatever reason. He’d been searching and I’d been found.

I was staying at The Belfast, the casino resort in Vegas where the fight took place. I hadn’t wanted to attend. I avoided Cain Callahan and all news of him as much as I could. However, at times, I’d cave in to the temptation to learn a little bit of information. I’d tell myself I just wanted to know what happened to him. I wanted to know if it was true.
Did he kill someone?

As soon as I’d see his hard face during an Internet search, I couldn’t look any farther. A scantily clad girl draped over his broad shoulders was all I’d need to recall that I had been nothing more than a one-night stand to Cobra Callahan, famous fighter and international champion. His cold dark eyes looked dangerous captured on film and video. I didn’t recognize the man featured in the media. He wasn’t the man I had encountered one weekend last summer at my grandparents’ vineyard. That man had been different.

In the bar at the Belfast, my thoughts of Cain were dulled by the excess of alcohol I consumed. I could handle my drink, but tonight I let the power of alcohol make its way through my veins. The granddaughter of producers of wine, I practically grew up on the sweet taste of fermented grapes. I also had my fair share of Grandpa’s Passion, an alcoholic beverage filled with secret ingredients known only to my great grandfather. It was potent. I’d seen it bring large men to their knees. It had brought Cain to his.

I shook my head to rid the memory of our first night together. It had all been a lie, a façade of types. We were pretending. Tonight, I was pretending he had no effect on me, so I drank with the girls who encouraged me to attend the fight. I needed to dull the ache between my thighs from his touch hours ago.

Lindee Parks’ parents owned The Belfast, a glorious resort filled with grand ballrooms, a large casino, private gambling rooms, and an arena. The fight was the event of the decade: two brothers pitted against each other. There wasn’t even a title involved. It was only for pride; which brother was better. To say I hated Atom Callahan, their father, was an understatement. I could not comprehend the evil that allowed a father to pit his children against each other in the ring. Observing him across the cage, it was evident that all his faith was on one child only, and my heart ached for Abel, the younger son, who I had developed a friendship with over the past few months.

While I hoped to avoid Cain, the fight was impossible to ignore. My decision to be there was last minute. I took the place of Elma Montgomery, a girl that I suspected Abel desired, but denied himself from having. It seemed to be a family trait, but then again, I wasn’t convinced that Cain Callahan ever had any real interest in me. I was a fleeting moment in his superstar life and I knew better. My own family had their success story with a well-known vineyard in Napa Valley, which catered to the rich and famous who wished to be discrete. Affairs of the extramarital kind, escapes from the burden of paparazzi, and the occasional elopement took place in our secluded winery. We were a sinner’s haven in the midst of paradise.

Our foursome rounded out with Maggie, who was Lindee’s cousin, and Lucie, my best friend from my time abroad in Italy. The fight was over and to everyone’s surprise: Abel Callahan beat his brother. It was the shock of the modern century. The leaner, lesser-known fighter, rose up from the ashes of the underground fight pits and beat his brother, a renowned champion. In many ways, it wasn’t realistic, and people were still dumbfounded by the course of events. Either way, The Belfast was ready to party. Drowning sorrows for the huge sums of money lost or celebrating glee for mysterious dollars won, it made no difference. The casino dance lounge was full.

The bright lights were like a neon splatter paint explosion. The dance floor reflected garish fuchsia, royal blue, and highlighter yellow. The flashing rhythm matched my racing heart that accelerated with each thought of Cain, and what he’d done to me in the hallway outside the locker rooms. I cursed myself as I downed another shot. I’d lost count and stumbled to the pulsating floor to join Maggie and Lucie.

My hips swayed to the vibrant music. The mix of songs blended in a way that there was no break from one to another. The lyrics rolled together and the beat went on. I raised my arms in the air, not caring that my skirt rose with it. I’d already been exposed. Nothing could touch me now, I thought, as I let myself fall into the thumping bass of the music. Lucie and Maggie danced with me, and we smiled as we sang out the song. My face was ready to crack from the alcohol-induced grin.

I refused to shed more tears over Cain Callahan. I’d been racked with sobs so severe at the first loss of him; my body ached for days. My mind grew numb and my limbs moved like an automaton. I couldn’t recall a thing from the first week after he disappeared. Tonight, I wanted him to disappear again, but I felt his eyes on me from across the crowded bar. Seated in an alcove of couches for VIP members only, Cain was surrounded by women. Why his attention focused on me, I didn’t understand. A long legged blonde, with a short skirt slithered up to his side. She curled over his thigh, but his eyes were still on me. I knew this only because I’d stolen a glance in his direction and the weight of his dark orbs didn’t leave me long after I looked away. Dirty and desired rolled into a mutual sensation. The warmth of shots helped me ignore both emotions.

“He’s watching you,” Lucie yelled over the beat of the music.

“I don’t care,” I shouted back. Her face scrunched up as she shook her head. Lucie didn’t know my secret, no one did. She’d been observant enough, though, to notice I had a strange obsession with a fighter in the United States when we were abroad in Italy. When she questioned me, I’d say he was someone that I used to know. She’d laugh and sing out a famous song with those lyrics. The inquisition was dropped.

I spun again to see that the couch area had been cleared and Abel Callahan sat next to his brother. The manager of the place had entered the alcove. We’d met him briefly, as Lindee knew everyone, but I couldn’t remember his name. I was spinning away from them, but not before I noticed Cain’s hand slip up the dress of the long legged blonde. His eyes travelled up her body. I sensed what those eyes were asking of her. Correction: demanding of her. She would be his next conquest. Turning away, I twisted my ankle. Pain radiated up my leg.

I continued to dance, forcing myself to keep my back to him. I put more pressure on the other leg in attempts to relieve some of the shock still reverberating up my calf. Three shots were delivered to us on the dance floor, compliments of someone somewhere, and I threw back my head to feel the burn. Heat cascaded through me slowly. Intending to be a doctor one day, I recognized the circulatory cycle of blood flow inside me. The alcohol had taken over and flowed from intake to the tips of my fingers. I tingled everywhere. That’s how I knew I’d had one too many.

“I’ll be wight beck,” I slurred and the bright lights blurred before me. Maggie faded to fuzz before me as I spun to exit the dance floor. My hands went out to my sides to balance me while I swayed. The pain in my ankle screamed through my body, as I attempted to step forward. The rivers of alcohol flooded me, and I sank into the agony radiating up my leg. The night went black.

I’d been watching her for hours as she lay in my bed at The Belfast. My elbows balanced on my knees. My head held in my hands. I didn’t know what to do about her. It took all my strength not to take advantage of her when I removed her clothes. Her body was so beautiful, but limp and unwilling wasn’t exactly my style. It hadn’t been hers either as my memory returned to that first night together. I was in a condition similar to her present state. Drunk off my ass, she followed me to my room that night. She wasn’t pressuring me for sex. In fact, it was quite the opposite and it was refreshing. She kissed me when I asked her to, and then stopped when I said I needed to rest. Little did I know, at the time, she’d stayed to comfort me. She cradled me in her arms that night, and I repaid her by letting my father belittle her two mornings later.