Silent Scars (Surviving #4) (17 page)

BOOK: Silent Scars (Surviving #4)
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“What?” Jo asked.

“Oh, don’t you be getting all hopeful;
we
aren’t trying it. There is no way your sticking
that
monster up there. There isn’t enough lube in the world to tempt me.”

Jo pulled her against his chest and whispered something in her ear. She squealed and slapped at his arm whilst laughing.

Aloura’s eyes were bright as she watched Jo and Lou. She laughed, and her face flushed – she had never looked so beautiful.

Lou lifted her glass and shouted, “To truths.”

Everyone, including me, raised a glass and saluted.

My gaze collided with Aloura’s, and I was captivated by her. Even from where I was sitting, I could feel the heat between us.

“Harry!” Aloura squealed loudly and shifted in her seat. I glanced behind me to the cocky bastard sauntering towards us, a shit eating grin on his face, but his attention was solely on Aloura. He had a glass of either whiskey or brandy in his hand. I glanced back at Aloura to see she was standing on the seat of the booth. She stepped over Lou and Jo, putting her ass incredibly close to Jo’s face, before she launched herself into Harry’s waiting arms. He caught her with one arm holding his drink out. It sloshed over the sides, but he laughed when she wrapped her arms and legs around him. She was talking and laughing as soon as she lifted her head. I couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying, but the cocky bastard grinned at her and nodded. Lou watched me with a curious smirk on her face. “Come and meet Ryan’s friends,” Aloura shouted. She had untangled her long glorious legs from around his waist, but that didn’t stop him running his hand over her ass and back as she lowered herself down his body. She grasped his free hand and pulled him closer to the table. He smirked at me before wrapping his arm possessively around her waist and pulling her back against him. He rested his chin on her shoulder as she pointed out everyone.

“We have been playing truth,” Aloura announced like a proud kid.

He chuckled and tickled her sides. “Only you would find that fun.”

“Hey, everyone liked it.” She said sounding suddenly unsure.

“We were enjoying it,” I offered.
Way to sound like a petulant child, Ry.

“Tell us a truth,” she demanded of him.

“I have my cock pierced, does that count as my truth.”

Aloura spun around and faced him. She glanced down at his junk, as if it was hanging out for all to see. “You have not.”

“Want me to take you out back and show you?”

I tensed at his crass offer. The fucker was seriously stretching my patience. Aloura slapped at his chest and grimaced. “No thank you. Have you really though? You didn’t tell me.” Her face was a beautiful mix of inquisition and innocence.

“Hold this.” He handed her his glass and put his hands over his belt. He started unbuckling his pants when Aloura’s mind caught up. She slammed the glass on the table behind her and placed her hands
right over his junk
.

“Stop,” she hissed.

“You asked.”

“I didn’t ask you to strip. Leave your todger in your underwear.”

“Babe, I don’t wear underwear.”

Aloura spun around and faced the group. “I apologise for my friend. He’s a pain in the arse most of the time.”

“Hey.”

“Come on, let’s sit down before you cause any more trouble.”

Lou and Jo shuffled along the booth to let the cocky bastard and Aloura in. He slapped me on the back, much harder than was friendly, but I simply smirked at him. There was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered. The dickhead wanted a reaction. At least Aloura was closer to me this time.

“Shall we carry on the game?” Lou asked, her voice slurred and a little loud.

“How come all the confessions are about sex?” Will asked, taking a pull of his beer. He was laying off the shots. He had a couple but was now drinking beer.

“Because sex is everything,” the cocky bastard offered. I was sure Will wasn’t even including him in the conversation.

“Sex is only a small part,” I argued.

“Nothing small about my dick.” The fucker interrupted and winked at me
.

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, Ryan, if you have a small cock,” Harry said.

“It isn’t small.” Aloura informed the group and then covered her mouth. Everyone stared at her. “Or at least, I assume it isn’t.” She added, her cheeks turning puce she was blushing so hard. The entire table burst into hysterics; even Will choked on his beer.

The cocky bastard glared at me.

“Have you two...” Emily asked Aloura with a mischievous smirk.

“What? No! No, no, no, nooo.” She waved her hands to add to her protests, but Emily’s grin only widened. “I saw him...in the shower.” Aloura rushed to add. I glanced at her knowing that was a lie because I always, to a point of OCD, made sure I locked the door. But something in the nervous way Aloura kept glancing at me from the corner of her eyes and the bright red of her cheeks told me she
had
in fact seen my cock.

When the group continued chatting again, I leaned over to Aloura and pressed my lips close to her ear so my words were for her only.

“When did you see my cock, Aloura?” She shivered. Totally unprofessional, but I loved that she responded to me that way. She turned her head slightly so her cheek rested against mine.

“I came to your room, and you were...” She paused a moment before those precious ruby lips spilled words that had my dick hard in record time. “You were having a wank, and I watched as you came all over your stomach. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.”

I jerked back and stared into her big brown eyes. Her cheeks were still flushed, but I assumed from arousal not embarrassment. She had seen me? When I continued to stare, her confidence waned, and she averted her gorgeous eyes and let her hair curtain her face. I wanted to push the strands back, but it would be too much of a bold statement to these vultures. They were all laughing and joking as if Aloura hadn’t just dropped a NATO sized bomb on me.

“I bet Aloura’s got a hairy vag,” the cocky bastard announced. I had no idea where the fuck that had come from, but at that moment I was preparing my fist to connect with his big fucking mouth. Aloura gasped and slapped his arm. At least she didn’t see anything funny.

“I groom perfectly, thank you very much. My muff is as bald as a badger’s backside.”

This time was Jo’s turn to choke out a laugh. Everyone turned their attention to Aloura, who was glaring at me with a devilish glint in her eyes. But one thing was rolling around in my head.

A badger’s backside?

“Oh my God, I love her,” Lou said through her tears.

“I like bare –”

“Jo, we haven’t heard your truth,” Aloura shouted, pushing a glass towards him. Will and I leaned forward to interrupt like the protective bears we were, but Jo grabbed his glass downed it and smirked at Lou.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck Lou at the library.”

Will choked out a startled laugh. Jo’s cheeks mottled a bright red.

“Don’t you dare,” Jo warned.

Will’s grin turned mischievous.

“Tell us Will.” Lou chuckled, staring at Jo.

“He had a huge crush on this woman who worked at the library on campus.”

“Is that so?” Lou asked, grinning at him.

“He would get so tongue tied and bashful when he talked about her.”

“Did you ask her out?” Lou asked him with a smile, but I caught the hitch in her voice. She wasn’t a fan of my brother having dated other women.

Jo shook his head.

“She was married.”

“Johan Senior, you were lusting after another man’s wife,” she gasped in mock horror.

“You were pregnant with another man’s kid when I fell for you.” He deadpanned.

She opened her mouth but gawped like a fish. Stunned, we all stared at a silent, no comeback, Louise.

“I feel like we are experiencing history,” Will said in awe. “Lou has nothing to say.”

“Oh, buggar off,” she quipped. “It was my undeniable charm that won him over.”

Jo purposely glanced down at her breasts. “It was your charm alright.”

I watched in avid silence as this close group joked about falling in love and the private little moments they had shared with one another. I saw the distance between us growing further and further. I had missed so much. I hadn’t been there when Jo had his first crush. I hadn’t been there when he met Lou. Or when his daughter was born. They included me in
their
family, but I was essentially a bystander holding onto people I had no right to claim as my own. My hands shook beside me as Jo leaned over and kissed Lou on her bare shoulder. He had fallen in love with the most amazing woman, and I had missed it all. I hadn’t known he was alive. An ocean away, alone and dead inside because I believed the only person I had ever truly felt needed by was gone. But he wasn’t. He was living his life, falling in love, and creating a family. I didn’t deserve to be here. I was destined to be in a war torn country defending these people. Not sitting at a table drinking and laughing with them.

My gaze collided with two big doe eyes. Humour and joy danced within the chocolate depths. But when they caught the despair in mine, the glow faded.

I
caused the light to fade. She tilted her head to the side and regarded me. The table was humming with jokes about Jo’s library crush. But with each barb I felt a knife pierce my heart. I hadn’t been there for him; Will had. Will deserved this. I didn’t.

“I have a library,” Aloura interrupted loudly. The conversation tittered. She cast one singular glance my way, and in that moment I knew she had rallied to bring me back from myself imposed hell. She was a stranger to me, and to this group, but she forced the bad away when she sensed it neared us.

“You have a library?” Lou asked, her mouth gaping in awe.

“Yep. Never had sex in it though.”

Great, now I was imagining that.

“Books are like fucking porn to women, I swear,” Jo said, grabbing his glass from the table.

“How many times have I heard ‘just one more chapter, babe’,'“ Will offered in a really tight high pitched voice, earning a slap from Emily.

“You can’t leave a chapter unfinished,” she argued.

“Lou can’t leave a
book
unfinished,” Jo said and ducked Lou’s swinging hand. “But I guess it keeps her quiet and out of – oomph.” He wasn’t quick enough to avoid that jab.

“Some of them aren’t too bad,” I uttered, but clearly not quietly enough because the men at the table gawped at me. “She has audio, I can’t not listen to that shit,” I defended myself. Aloura’s shy smile was worth the disbelieving stares from the others.

The music suddenly increased in volume, and Aloura bounced in her seat and clapped. The cocky bastard grinned at her and jerked his head in the direction of the dance floor. She shoved at his shoulder to move out of the booth. When he was standing, he held out his hand, and she placed her delicate fingers in his.

“My lady wants to dance.” He made an elaborate show of bowing, and then swiftly he bent over, thrust his shoulder into her middle, and threw her over his shoulder and swatted her backside.

“I really like her,” Emily said close to my ear, startling me slightly.

“Yeah, me too,” I said absently as I watched Aloura be carried away from me.

 

“I love this song,” I squealed as we reached the dance floor. I tapped out the beat on Harry’s arse. He placed me down, and immediately my hips swayed. Harry was the best dancer I knew, and I loved when we got to dance together in clubs. It rarely happened at his place because he was always working.

He sang as he was grinding his hips against mine. I giggled and clapped my hands above my head, singing and moving against him. We had danced hundreds of times together, and I knew his body as he knew mine. We could silently read one another. Plus the added bonus knowing I wasn’t going to find an unexpected boner or have to defend myself against grabby hands. I was here to dance and nothing more.

Harry pulled me close and slid his hands over my arse, holding me against his crotch in a definite possessive move. “Harry?” I pushed against his chest to move back a little, but he tightened his hold and pressed his lips against my ear.

“Your new toy is about to blow a gasket,” he whispered, his lips so close to my ear I was certain it would look like he was kissing me.

“What?” I pushed against his chest again and jerked when his fingers curled under the hem of my shorts. If he went any higher, he would be touching places I certainly didn’t want him touching.

“Harry, remove your hands. Now!”

“I’m not copping a feel.”

“Really, because your fingers feel incredibly close to my crack,” I snapped.

He threw his head back and laughed. I stared at him bemused. He had never acted like this before. We were friends and not once was that barrier crossed. Nor would it ever be. Yeah, he had a devilish charm about him, and I wasn't dead – I could appreciate his good looks, and he had a fine body, but there wasn't that spark of anticipation with him.

Not like with Ryan.

I grumbled to myself because I had to give up that ghost. He wasn’t interested – no that wasn’t true. I thought he was tempted, but I wasn’t a big enough temptation for him to break professional code.

“Harry, you need to step back; your making me too hot.” He cocked an eyebrow, and I shook my head, giving him an insistent push. He stepped back, but his hands still held my waist. He glanced behind me and grinned. I rolled my eyes and turned my head to look over my shoulder to see which female victim had caught his eye. But I stumbled when a pair of intense blue eyes stared back at me. My skin flushed, my nipples pebbled, and that damn throbbing returned at the power in his gaze.

“See, your toy wants to play,” Harry said into my ear, before running his nose down my neck and pulling me in close again. I clutched at his shirt, needing the support. The heat in Ryan’s stare both terrified and heated me beyond combustion.

My body swayed against Harry’s. It was a natural movement, like we were born to dance together. But my head, heart, and soul called out to the man glaring at the hands holding me.

“Harry, you need to stop. He looks angry,” I said, turning to plead with my best friend.

“His dick is angry because his head is telling him to step away. The man is a fucking idiot.”

“Stop.”

Harry straightened and pulled me flush against him. My breasts squashed against his chest and my groin against his. There wasn’t any space between us, and I decided I really didn’t like this side of him. Had he had more to drink than usual? He brought his face so close to mine I panicked he was about to kiss me.

“Harry?” My voice quivered with desperation.

“About damn time,” he muttered just as a large hand cupped my arm and pulled me away from my currently insane friend.

“You need to back the hell away.”

“Says who?” He glanced down at me, all bravado.

I opened my mouth to interject, but Ryan blocked both my path and speech.

“Your worst fucking nightmare if you don't get your hands of my girl’s ass.”

His girl?

Giddy butterflies escaped in my stomach, and I wanted to do a silly happy dance. I caught the widening of Harry’s eyes. Ryan turned to face me, putting his back to Harry signalling the end of the conversation.

“Harry is a friend, you know that, right?” I felt I needed to reassure him.

“He had his hand halfway up your shorts.”

“His hand was on my arse.”

“In his mind, his hand was up there.”

“How would you know?” I pushed.

“He's a guy, and with an ass and legs like yours, the guy wants in there.”

“Was that a backhanded compliment, Ryan?”

“No, just stating a fact.”

“Are we dancing?” I asked as we stood facing one another on the dance floor. Like I had no control, my hips swayed so I wasn’t completely unmoving like he was.

“Technically, we're swaying, but I think in relation to what everyone else is doing it could be considered dancing. Would you like to go?” It was bizarre having a shouting but relaxed conversation. The music so much louder in this part of the club. His jaw ticked, and his free hand was clenched at his side.

“No, I want to dance.”

Ryan was so incredibly tall. I wasn't exactly short at five nine, but he made me feel tiny. I tilted my head back so I could watch his face. He looked tense, but in that moment I hadn’t ever felt so turned on. Ryan glanced around the dance floor at the other people and scowled. The muscle in his jaw throbbed, his intense gaze returned to me, and goose bumps prickled my skin with the intensity burning back at me.

“Am I doing this right?” he said, leaning forward to speak close to my ear. His words electrified me. I was desperate to feel his hands on me again. The incident in the bathroom had awoken a urgent need in me that only he could fill. I paused a moment, staring into his eyes. My chest heaved I was so nervous to take the next step, but I would eternally hate myself if I didn’t.

Without breaking eye contact I reached out for his free hand and placed it on my waist and stepped into him. Slowly, watching for any kind of flinch or sign he didn’t want this. I slid my hands up his chest and around his neck. I reduced the space between us and moved with him. Keeping my gaze firmly locked on his, I implored him to stay with me. Achingly slow, his body started to sway against mine. It wasn’t at all the music you would slow dance to, but I was in his arms, and he was in mine. They could be playing the national anthem, and I still wouldn’t release him.

His breath shuddered against my face as his hand at my waist tightened, and the one holding my bicep moved down and around to the small of my back. He pulled me even closer, so close I had to turn my head and laid it against his solid chest. His heart under my ear was beating wildly. This was no longer a dance. it was something entirely different. I dropped my hands and slid them around his back to hold him just as tightly.

His chest rumbled with words I had no chance of hearing. I lifted my head and pleaded with my eyes for him to repeat it. He shook his head, cupped the back of mine, and gently laid my head against his heart. I closed my eyes for a moment and listened to the healthy beat.

I was surrounded by his scent like it was air. He pressed his nose into my hair and inhaled as if I too were his lifeline. He gripped my hair in his fist. Prickles raced over my scalp verging on pain, and I felt a little at war with the desire that shot through me at the sensation.

Then we were moving away from the dance floor. Ryan had my hand in his, and he was stalking through the crowd towards the far end of the club to a secluded corner. My pulse rocketed into overdrive at the much more private part of the club.

“Aloura, we have to leave, now. Before I do something we both live to regret.”

“I would rather regret it.”

“No, don’t give me the ‘
regret what you do, not what you haven’t done
’ bullshit.” He stepped forward and cupped my cheeks. “Tiny dancer, I am not a fairytale prince. I’m not one of your heroes from those romance novels. I’m fucked up inside; I have nothing worthy of you.” He pressed his fist to his chest and then tapped it against his temple. I lifted my hand and gripped his wrist. I had no chance of fitting his fist in my hand. My fingers didn’t even wrap fully around the thickness of his wrist.

“I’m not broken, Aloura. That would imply I could be fixed. There is nothing left inside me.”

“We could change that.”

“I don’t need you to change me,” he snapped.

I stepped into him and released my hold so I could cup his cheek. I expected him to pull away, but he leaned into my hand and closed his eyes.

“I’m not naive, Ryan. I know entering a relationship with the intention of changing that person is doomed. I accept
you
as you are. I like who you are. I can only hope being with
me
enhances your life and diminishes the sadness you carry. You’re empty because you never let anyone in. You say there is nothing inside. Let me help fill you with happy memories. Ones to treasure.”

“I’m here to protect you, not hurt you.”

“I have faith you are more protective of my
delicateness
than I am,” I seethed because he made it sound like I was a china doll meant to spend her life sitting on a shelf rather than experiencing it. “I’m at least willing to make an effort with this connection we have. Because try and deny it all you like  there is something between us. You’re just too afraid.”

“Are you saying I’m a coward?”

“Yes.” I lifted my chin in defiance. The man before me was anything but a coward, but the alcohol bussing through my system clearly made me a daring idiot.

“Okay, yes I am attracted to you. I want to fuck you in every conceivable way possible. But above all else, I don’t want to hurt you. I was employed to protect you, and if that includes from myself, then so be it. If that makes me a coward, fine.” He had stepped so close I could feel his breath against my lips. A vein at his temple throbbed, his chest expanded on each breath, and his nostrils flared. My sensible mind screamed at me to step back, but my heart and the devil in me urged me to push harder.

“The only person you are protecting is yourself, Ryan. I understand you’ve suffered some kind of traumatic heartache in your past.” That was the wrong thing to say. He jerked back as if I had slapped him.

“You know shit about my past. Don’t pretend, Aloura, you have any clue. You’re unrealistic if you believe you understand the ugliness in this world. Safely tucked away in Daddy’s mansion. You’re a clueless little princess.”

“Okay, big guy. I’m going to stop your tantrum there,” I snapped and stepped towards him. I pressed my finger in his chest, my own anger over taking my concern for him. “I may not have fought in a war. I may not have seen my friends die. I haven’t seen suffering on that scale, and I am thankful to men and women who put their life on the line for their country’s freedom. But I refuse to accept that I don’t know the cruelty that lies within people. I grew up without friends, bullied because of who my parents were. I’ve watched my mum torn down at parent groups and cast out like a leper because she’s gay. I’ve watched Dad go from an outgoing, laidback fun guy to a stressed out paranoid maniac because someone is threatening to hurt me because of the work he does. His
life’s
work is in jeopardy because he would choose my safety over anything. But the drugs he has developed have saved lives, Ryan. My grandmother has called me
Satan's spawn
because I was conceived out of wedlock
and
by parents who are gay. She despises me. I once saw her at the library, and I said hello and she spat at me.” I sucked in a breath. I still remember Mum bursting into tears and the pain on her face when I told her about that. “It terrifies me to meet new people. I came tonight absolutely shitting myself, but I did it for you. I wanted you to be happy. Your size and growl is all a facade to hide the coward you are inside.”

“I’m not a fucking coward,” he snarled.

“Yes, you are. Big strong, macho Ryan, afraid of his feelings. What’s so hard? What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You’re terrified. You think no one sees. But each one of your friends watches you like you’re about to shatter into a million pieces.”

His jaw ticked, and he glanced over in the direction of their table.

“You think you’re hiding, that no one sees the pain you’re carrying. Everyone sees it, Ryan. You hurt them so much, and you don’t even see it. You’re so wrapped up in your own pity party you can’t see the pain you’re causing. So why are you so determined to push everyone who cares away?”

BOOK: Silent Scars (Surviving #4)
12.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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