Page 46 of Behind the Lyrics
“After one year of being clean and sober, that’s what they give out at al-anon meetings.” His face, serious yet tinged with a bit of uncertainty, watched me without blinking, as if trying to guess what I was thinking.
I rubbed its surface again and read the back.To thine own self be true.“Wow. I didn’t know you went to AA meetings.”
“No one does. That’s the perk of it being anonymous.” He clutched my hand and curled his fingers around mine, the edges of the metal flush against my skin. “I know it shouldn’t matter, especially since rehab became a revolving door, but…” A shoulder lifted and he grimaced.
“This is wonderful.” How many times had I begged Jeff to do this, just once, to at least give it a chance?Too many.
His jaw clenched. “It’s demoralizing having the world know my struggles. Going to an in-person session or meeting online grounds me. It’s a reminder that my addictions aren’t just a celebrity thing. There are everyday people who struggle with it their entire lives, and I’m not so different. Every time I feel the call of that old life, that old nemesis, that old seduction, this coin is my reminder that I can—andhave—conquered the demon one day at a time. It gives me strength.”
“I’m glad, but I still don’t understand.” I was ecstatic he attended meetings. To me, it showed a maturity level Jeff had never attained. Every time I’d even suggested he might be an alcoholic, he’d ranted and raved until I’d finally stopped bringing it up altogether.
“Thepointis I want you to know I’m committed to abstinence. I donotwant to go back to that life. Even before I met you, I decided to fight.” He cupped my cheeks. His thumbs stroked each corner of my mouth with his gaze lowering to my lips. “I want you to know that if you give me that chance, you willnotregret it.”
Sincerity shone in his eyes, and I hesitated.This is way more than Jeff ever did.The weight of the coin in my hand was a scale, but I couldn’t decide which way it was tipping—toward a happy life with Viktor, or toward more misery.
“But—”
“Shh.” He lowered his face to mine and claimed my mouth. Thoroughly and possessively.
I almost dropped the coin, but clenched it tighter and leaned into him, relishing his firm frame next to mine. His distinctively masculine scent—sweat and leather—wrapped around me, sending flashes of heat through my veins to my lower belly.
Our mouths moved together urgently, and I stopped overthinking what he’d said. Instead, I submitted, curving my softness into his hardness.
He let go of my face and scooped his palms under my butt lifting me to curl my legs around his waist. “Fuck, I missed this, Angel.” Panting, he twisted toward the wall near the door, where there wasn’t any furniture blocking the way, and pinned me between the sheetrock and his body, dipping his tongue into my mouth again.
A soft moan escaped my throat. He tasted like sweaty salt and fresh mint. Delicious.
Dragging his lips from mine, he scraped his teeth down my neck, his short whiskers creating spikes of pleasure along the way, igniting my blood and heating my skin.
Propped against the wall, my movement was limited, but I managed to dig my fingers into his sweat-soaked hair and pulled him closer, needing more.
Against my skin, his lips moved, as if curving in a smile. “Do I dare think I’ve got your permission to go lower?”
“Yes,” I murmured, already panting at the thought of his tongue and mouth on my breasts.
With a grunt, he leaned back enough to pull off my top, throwing it onto the sofa.
With only my black, lacy bra impeding his goal, he stilled, those tan eyes turning darker as they roved my bare skin as if memorizing everything he saw.
“Are you okay with taking this to the end?” Those irises met mine, and his face tightened. “If you tell me to stop at any moment, I will—no questions asked.”
Something deep inside of me cracked open.He’s making sure I know I’m in control, that he would never abuse me like Jeff.The feeling that overcame me was hard to describe. It was as if I’d lived all my life in a dark closet, wishing just one person would open the door and see me, therealme, yet they never did.
But Viktor? Oh, he saw me. Every part of me—both inside and out. Somehow, he knew me as well, maybe better, than myself. A tear trickled from the corner of my eye.
“No, Love, no.” He swiped it away with a thumb. “Goddamn it. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you sad. I only wanted—”
“Yes.” I smiled through my tears. “Yes, I want to take this to the end. Remind me what it feels like to be treasured, Viktor.” I stroked a finger down his chest, gripped his tie, and yanked him closer. “Givemea second chance.”
With a growl, he whipped around and laid me on the couch then slid a hand to the back of my bra, unclasped the catch, and flung it away.
His mouth worshipped my body, and afterward, in that dressing room with its Green Day posters, neon beer signs, platinum record replicas, and quirky furniture,hebecame the disciple, andIbecame the goddess.
Chapter 40
Viktor Farrow
If she would’ve asked me to set fire to the building, cut out my heart, or slaughter an army, I wouldn’t have askedwhy. I would’ve immediately rushed out and completed the request if it meant she’d make those low, throaty moans again.
