Love Like Her (Against All Odds #3) - Claudia Y. Burgoa Page 0,41

with my hand. “You’re letting this grow?”

“You don’t like my beard?”

“It’s different.”

“I usually let it grow while I’m in Costa Rica. When I go back to Colorado, I shave the hipster away from my face. That’s what Persy and Nyx call it,” he explains, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the kitchen table.

“You already set the table,” I say, impressed.

“After looking at your empty fridge, I assumed that you don’t have many homemade meals,” he says. “At least while I’m here, I plan to feed you.”

“I might keep you longer than you intend to stay,” I joke. “So, what have you been up to?”

“I visited Isaac.” He clears his throat. “Whose actual name is Zack. I misunderstood his name. They married last November. It was a small ceremony with only friends and family. When I asked him why she didn’t invite us…”

He takes a long deep breath, then he looks at me. “Our parents dragged us with them everywhere, but when Callie was born, they left her with our grandparents,” he explains. “She didn’t join us until she was much older. I never gave that a second thought. Except, it always made her feel like she wasn’t really part of us. Nyx, Persy, and I are a tight unit. She’s an outsider. Even though she loved our parents, she was ashamed of them. Inviting them was out of the question.”

I clasp his hands.

“She never gave us a chance to be a part of her life.” He squeezes his eyes. “We should’ve tried harder, and now it’s too late. I can’t even blame myself for not keeping an eye on her. She never allowed it. She always said, ‘I’m not Nyx or Persy. Leave me alone.’”

“I wish I knew what to say.”

He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Honestly, I don’t need words. All I need now is to feel something other than pain.”

This is something I know well. He’s helped me forget and feel better twice. I sit on his lap, wrap my arms around his neck, and kiss him. I grind against his lap. His hand goes under the fabric of my dress. Moving aside my underwear, his finger touches my clit. One slides inside of me as his thumb works my clit.

“What happened to eat first, then play?”

“I’m thinking that I’ll eat you first,” he says, setting me on top of the table. “Lace panties. They’re cute.”

He slides them off and shoves them inside his jeans pocket. His mouth hovers right above the apex of my thighs. I forgot how good he is with his mouth and his fingers. In less than twenty-four hours, he has reminded me how good it is to have sex—with him.

It doesn’t take long for me to cry his name and quiver. I hear the sound of a zipper opening. A moment later, he rams himself inside me. My legs are over his shoulders as he drives himself harder, rougher inside me. I love this side of Eros. His dark eyes glare at me with hunger.

There are never words when we’re like this, together. Just lust and passion. Today I want to say, “I’m here for you. Take what you need. Let me heal your heart and your soul.”

I bite my lip, muting the words. It’ll be one of many unsaid phrases, sentences, and words between us. I keep them to myself, guarding them with my life.

There’s no point in telling him anything. We’re from two different worlds. We live separate lives. I have to be practical. I have to safeguard my heart.

As we both reach the peak and begin to shudder, he pulls me toward him and holds me tight. So tight that we become one person. We share one heartbeat, one breath, and one body. The irrational-romantic part of my brain wants to stay like this for a long time. The rational part of my brain knows I need to move. This is too comfortable. I can fall into an abyss.

No one will notice my absence. I’ll be lost forever.

If only life was fair and we could happen. Maybe in another life.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Olivia

Eros stays a couple of weeks in Boston. He spends his mornings hanging out with Zack, who owns a coffee shop. He’s getting some kind of closure while trying to understand who Callie was. They’re becoming friends. On Sunday, the words I’ve been dreading to hear since Eros arrived are finally spoken. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

We’re in bed. This is the first Sunday I’ve taken off in a