Too Consumed (Consumed #2)
Page 17I shifted in my seat. “Because…” My voice sounds whiny and juvenile, and I hate it. “Don is an ass and I wanted to hurt him like he hurt Seth.”
“You didn’t think that maybe Seth would’ve liked to be the one to bring Daniel’s—”
“Don’s,” I correct her.
“Right—I’m sure Seth would’ve liked to be the one to bring Don’s world down—being as arrogant and self-important as he is.” Mom bites back a smile. “I hate to say it, honey, but you’re the one who owes the apology here.”
Mom on team Seth, who would have thought? I sink lower on the couch, instantly feeling like an idiot. “How do you know when you’re right and they’re not?”
She chuckles, slapping my arm. “Oh, darling. Lesson one on men, they always think they’re right—especially the fighter types. You want to come out on top? Don’t sweat the small stuff. Let them think they’re right. Like your father, Seth is going to say stupid, hurtful things to you at one time or another, nobody is perfect. Even the good ones have their moments, but at the end of the day, if they can make you feel loved beyond anything else, if they show you just how much you mean to them, then the other things are just bumps in an otherwise smooth pavement.”
I nod my head. I never thought Mom could ever give me advice I’d agree with. She’s grown so much since Dad’s death. I don’t even know how to explain it. We have conversations without arguing—actual full length conversations. I can’t remember the last time we’ve been so close.
I’ll go see Seth at lunch time and apologize for taking the satisfaction of seeing Don crumble. I can’t give it back to him, but hopefully the apology is enough. Mom leaves the couch and enters the kitchen, allowing me to lie down and stretch out. My eyes become heavy and I yawn countless times before finally falling asleep.
Three strong knocks rap on the door and my eyes shoot open. It’s almost dark, the living room is two shades from being pitch black. I push myself off the couch and climb sleepily to my feet. My stomach growls and churns because I haven’t eaten today. Instead of making me hungry, it puts me off the mere thought of food.
There’s another knock against the wood and I shuffle slowly towards it. I flick the light switch on and pull the door open. On the other side of the screen stands Seth in a white shirt that clings tightly to his chest and arms. My heart rate instantly skyrockets. Not out of fear or intimidation, but out of pure unwholesome desires—oh, and the thought of having to apologize to him. He’s going to make it as painful as possible.
“You’re happy to see me, don’t deny it.” He lowers his gaze to my breasts. “Or at least your nipples are.”
Ignoring my less than impressed expression, he opens the screen and holds it, all while looking at me like I’m the most amusing thing on the planet.
“You’ve been asleep this whole time?”
I shrug. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” But of course he knows that.
Seth’s amused expression fades, turning serious. “I won’t have us fighting for a second longer, Olivia.” His voice is commanding, like he’s ordering me to stop being mad at him. “All you have to do is tell me I’m—”
“You’re right,” I interrupt him. “I shouldn’t have gone to Don, or at the very least, I should have told you.” I step forward. “And you shouldn’t have hurt that guy to get back at me. That was cruel. Promise me you won’t do that again.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t promise you that.”
“Seth—”
He leans forward an inch. “I’m not going to promise you something I can’t keep. I can promise you I’ll always be here for you or that I’ll never be unfaithful to you, but I can’t promise I won’t hurt you in other ways. It’s what I do, it’s who I am. I have strange outlets and it’s how I deal with things.”
I hug myself as the cool air brushes along my skin. “But those people do nothing to you.”
The fact he’s being so careless is beyond me and quite frankly, it pricks at my frustration levels.
“You know who I am. I’ve been nothing but honest with you from the start. I won’t change, not now. Not ever.”
“I don’t want you to change.”
“Then what do you want? What can I say—or do—or give you to make you happy?”
I don’t want to tell him what will make me happy. I want him to automatically know—which has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever thought because even I don’t know what I want—I want him. I want us to be happy and not act like children.
“I don’t want to fight with you anymore. You win.”
His face softens in a way that makes me want to squeeze him.
“I love winning…so why do I feel like shit right now?” He steps forward and playfully strokes my arm with his index finger. “Maybe it’s the huge puppy dog eyes you’re giving me.”
My lips curl into a smile. “Does it make you feel bad?” I ask, flicking my eyelashes.
Seth laughs once. “Yes, actually, it does.”
I step aside and Seth crosses the threshold and into the house. Before we settle in for night, I shut all of the curtains and checked all of the rooms. Strange. Mom isn’t here. I stroll into the kitchen where Seth casually sits on the counter, drinking a big glass of cool water.
“Your Mom left you a note.” He hides his over-confident smile behind his glass as he takes another mouthful.
Sprawled in elegant handwriting on the whiteboard stuck to the fridge, there’s a message from Mom.
‘Olivia,
Will be out late tonight. Going on a dinner cruise with your Aunt Kate, remember?
See you tomorrow morning.
P.S.Who bit you? Never mind.’
I cringe, slipping my fingers under my cotton shirt and over the flesh Seth sank his teeth into last night. “Well, that has to be the most awkward note I’ve ever received.”
Seth laughs, slipping off the counter and coming up behind me. I feel the hard front of his body graze faintly across my back and my breath hitches as his fingers curl around the edges of my hair and he pulls it across one shoulder. I take my fingers from the bite and almost immediately, Seth’s lips sensually brush over it.
“I’m sorry I bit you,” he murmurs deeply, sending shivers cascading down my spine. There’s something about his low, husky voice that gets me every. Single. Time.
And I did. No word of a lie. The frisson of energy his teeth sent through me as we both came was intoxicating and something I’d let him do over and over again.
“This is much better.” I sigh, relaxing against him. “I don’t like fighting with you.”
He smiles against my skin. “Me either, but I don’t regret it.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I learned a lot of new things about you.”
I turn around. “Like what?”
“You’re passionate. You’re stubborn, and you like it when I fuck you hard.”
I almost choke, feeling my cheeks heat immediately. “I do not.”
My breath hitches as he comes at me, one hand snatches my wrists and the other swiftly grabs a handful of my ass. He slams me hard against the fridge and electrical currents flow through me, pooling in the most sensitive places as he pins my arms above my head. Embarrassingly, my breathing quickens and I soak my underwear.
“Told you,” he says.
He doesn’t smile—there’s no victory to his expression, only darkness—sweet, arousing, darkness…and I want all of it to myself. Forever.
His mouth finds my neck and he roughly sucks and nips at me, and I grind my hips against him with urgency. I can feel him hard against his jeans and pressing eagerly into mine. I’m ready for him to rip my clothes off and take me on the countertop right now…or at least I am until his phone rings.
He pulls it from his back pocket and slips it onto the counter, all without taking his mouth from me. I’m more than happy to ignore it. I want all of his attention on me—where it counts. I hook my finger around the hem of his jeans and almost get the button undone when his phone rings again. He pulls away with a frustrated groan, and keeping my arms pinned above me, he grabs his phone. When he reads the screen he hesitates for a moment.
“California,” he mutters, answering it and putting it to his ear. “Hello? Yes. Visits?” He pauses as the person speaks on the other end. “How is she?” A longer pause. “Okay. I’ll be there the day after tomorrow.”
He hangs up and frees my wrists. I wait for him to speak as he rakes his fingers through his hair and expels an exhale from his lips. “We’re going to California.”
“We? As in me and you?”
He arches a brow. “No, me and the fridge—of course you and me.”
I roll my eyes playfully at his sarcasm. “What about the gym? Who’s going—”
He silences me, pressing a finger against my lips, and bringing the phone back to his ear. I swat him away and he smiles, tucking his fingers into my jean pocket and tugging me closer. I laugh once as I push off of him and slip away from his hold.
“Jackson, it’s me—everything’s fine. I need you to book two tickets to California for tomorrow afternoon. Yes—and look after the gym for a few days…” Seth frowns. “Because I’m going to California.” He laughs. “Thanks.”
“What about your training?”
Seth leans against the kitchen counter crossing his legs at the ankles. “I’m not going to be able to sort that out over the phone.” He groans. “I have to go.”
My insides deflate. “Go? You can’t go. You were just—we were—I was—really?”
He chuckles, pushing himself off of the counter and circling me in his arms. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. When we’re in California, I’ll do whatever you want me to do to you.”
The thought of going to California to see Seth’s mother suddenly becomes tolerable. “Deal, but you better bring your A game.”
His hand slips under the fabric of my shirt and around to the small of my back. “Don’t I always?”
I smile. He sure does.
Seth plants a quick kiss on my lips and stalks from the house, locking and closing my front door behind him. I drop into the couch with a heavy sigh. The thought of seeing Vanessa again makes me nervous…the last time I saw her, Seth was carrying her passed out from the police station. She’s had finer moments, I’m sure, and I hope she’s better, for his sake. I think it’d do him some good to have his mom back.
Chapter Nine
Seth
Talking to Darryl about skipping on training for a few days is something that had to be done to his face. He isn’t going to like it, but the truth is, I’m fucking sore. My body aches, my ribs hurt, my face hurts, and I have a constant headache that’s driving me insane.
Sleep.
I can’t wait to climb into bed and fall asleep. Unfortunately, Darryl lives on the other side of town and I have to venture through a million and one traffic lights, meaning I’m going to be driving for at least forty minutes there and back—not to mention the long, long conversation I’m going to have with Darryl following my announcement.
I roll to a stop outside Darryl’s nice family home. It’s small, but it gives off a loving vibe. It doesn’t feel cold or emit an unwelcome feeling like my house does or the ones I grew up in. My parents were hardly home—dinners were always frozen instead of fresh, leaving the kitchen feeling sterile. There was no warmth of a freshly cooked meal floating in the air…not that it matters now, I guess. I didn’t really mind, it was all I knew.
When I walked in on Olivia’s family dinner months ago, before Rick died, I knew I’d missed out on so much, but my kids will never have to. That I can guarantee.
I shake my head, ignoring the thoughts. I’m only twenty-four. No need for kids yet—not until I’ve accomplished everything I need to. I don’t want to be a fighter when I have kids. I don’t want to drag Olivia to events and parties when she’s pregnant. I smile at the thought of a small, round belly protruding from her t-shirts. A firm knock on my window forces the way too domesticated thoughts from my head. I’m beginning to wonder exactly who is the female in this relationship…Darryl steps away from my door as I open it and I try hard not to laugh at his ‘best dad in the world’ pajamas and fail.
“Ha. Ha,” he deadpans. “It’s hilarious.”
He shifts his shirt, pulling it around his shoulders more. “When you have kids, you’ll see how much strength it takes to actually use the gifts your kids buy you and then I’ll be laughing at you.”
The corner of his mouth curls upwards and I know he enjoys it more than he lets on. “Anyway, you never visit me at home, not since the night you almost slept with Olivia and your mom was hospitalized for alcohol poisoning.”
I swing my legs over the edge of my chair and rest my feet on the step. I remember that night. During the weeks Olivia and I couldn’t have sex I remembered that night over and over, torturing myself. Had I known all of the things I said was going to end up being a waste of hot air, I would’ve taken her right then and there, and I know it would have been the sweetest victory ever—had the hospital not called for the third time that week, that is.