Craving Resurrection Page 85
There was only one person I wanted. Even if I knew that it was the last place I should be, I found myself pulling into her driveway.
My bike wasn’t even shut off before she was standing on the porch, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun.
“Patrick?”
I knew why she was surprised to see me. Hell, I hadn’t seen her in six years. Mum had moved into a small apartment, and I’d had no connection to Amy except for the photos of her and her son that Mum had placed next to photos of Brenna and I all over her home. Amy and her son were always conspicuously absent during the times I’d brought Brenna to see Mum. She’d never even seen my daughter.
“I’m so sorry, Patrick,” she said kindly as I moved toward her. “I’m so sorry about Moira.”
Her words wrapped around me, sinking into my skin like razor-sharp talons.
She meant it. She was actually sorry that I’d lost the woman who’d taken me away from her.
I lost it.
I reached her on the porch and pulled her to me, my fingers digging into her back as I pressed my watery eyes against her throat. I shuddered when her hands slipped under my cut to grip my waist.
This was the only place I wanted to be. I couldn’t bear to let go of her.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she whispered in my ear, her hands running lightly over my lower back. “Shhh.”
I gasped, my breath heaving in my chest as I tried to pull myself together. What was it about this woman that made me lose control of myself? It had been that way since the moment I’d met her, and almost ten years later, that still hadn’t changed.
“Why don’t you come in?” she asked, pulling away slightly to grab my hand. “Nix is at a friend’s house for a sleepover.”
She turned away, and I tried to wipe my face off with my free hand as she pulled me into the cool house. My fingers tapped my thigh as I took the time to look her over, from the thick ropes of gray hair that hit the top of her back to the slim waist and round ass covered by worn out jeans.
“You hungry?” she asked, never letting go of my hand as she turned to me with a small smile.
My mouth was on hers before either of us knew what I was doing. It was harsh, our lips pressed roughly against our teeth, but it only took a second before her hands were gently brushing through my hair. It calmed me in an instant, and I pulled away slightly to meet her eyes.
They were clear and wide—gentle and understanding—and my breath hitched as I leaned forward again, giving her plenty of time to pull away.
She didn’t.
She left her hands in my hair as I kissed her lips softly, learning the contours and texture again after so long.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into her mouth, not even sure what I was apologizing for. The years we’d spent apart? The way I’d kissed her so roughly? The fact that I’d just lost the woman who’d torn us apart and I was using her to console myself?
“It’s okay,” she said immediately. “You’re okay.”
I groaned and pushed her against the wall, crowding her with my body until one of my thighs was pressed between hers and she was the one who was groaning.
“I’ve missed ye,” I said harshly, kissing her neck as guilt filled my chest. “Christ.”
She pushed me away abruptly, and I was suddenly afraid as I met her eyes.
“We don’t take the Lord’s name in vain in this house,” she said, reaching up to flick my forehead.
My surprised laugh turned into a sob, and I hid it by grabbing her around the waist and pulling her into me so I could press my trembling mouth against her throat. I licked and sucked at her skin. It tasted different than it had all those years ago, and I wondered briefly if it was age or having a baby that had changed it.
I lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I carried her down the hallway, past the room covered in Power Ranger posters and through the door I knew instinctively was hers.
Her bed was covered in a quilt that I knew my mother had made, and before I set her down, I ripped it off the bed. I didn’t need any reminders that what I was doing was wrong.
I was using her, and for some reason I couldn’t understand, she was letting me.
We fumbled and bumped into each other as I tried to strip her jeans off and she went for my cut. Christ, our hands had no idea where to go and we were moving as if we’d get caught at any moment—frantic and desperate.
By the time we were both naked, Amy was completely silent, even her breath had ceased.
“So many tattoos,” she said softly, running her fingertips over my arm and down my hand until she’d reached my anchor and the silver ring that rested at the base of it “You didn’t cover it.”
She sounded surprised by that, and it baffled me.
“Of course not,” I replied.
There were tears in her eyes when they met mine, but they didn’t fall as I pushed her into the bed and crawled on top of her.
“Yer gorgeous,” I said reverently as I knelt above her, covering her breasts with my hands. My heart was racing and my breath was ragged as I weighed them in my palms. She was bigger there, more slender in her waist and more wide through her hips and thighs, giving her an hourglass figure that she hadn’t had when we were kids.
I immediately needed everything at once and I laid down on top of her so I could reach it all. I barely noticed when her chest stopped rising and falling beneath mine. When she still didn’t move, I leaned back from where my mouth had been on her nipple. God, I loved that new taste.