Third a Kiss Read online

  “Why, oh why, can’t you be real?” He buried his face into my hair, then he shuddered. His arms went lax around me as he tripped back into sleep.

  And I lay there, trapped by him, surrounded by him, cursing him.

  I couldn’t stay in his arms.

  I couldn’t pretend it was me he’d seen standing by his bed. Whatever woman he dreamed of had already captured his heart. Therefore, my stupid attempts at taking ownership of it were futile.

  Tears welled and spilled.

  I’d lost.

  It’s over.

  I would be sold for the second time, and all of this would fade into a strange, sickening hallucination.

  I tried to extract myself, but even in his sleep, he kept me prisoner.

  The moon skated higher in the sky.

  The world spun slowly toward a new day.

  And I remained his.

  Captured and afraid, I could no longer fight my failed escape shipwreck and Euphoria-induced heart-wreck.

  Sully had flown me back to his island, thrown me in a cage, rented me to a guest, and then smashed apart every remaining barricade I’d had around my heart.

  I was exhausted.

  Emotionally.

  Mentally.

  Physically.

  Sleep was precious.

  Sleep was vulnerable.

  But in his arms, I slipped into darkness, and dreams whisked me far away.

  Chapter Six

  I WOKE TO PAIN.

  My entire body felt as if it’d been tied to the skids of my helicopter and dragged through the ocean backward, colliding off reefs and atolls, smashing into palm trees and rocks.

  My lungs burned. My cock throbbed. Even my goddamn wrists and ankles hurt.

  As wakefulness scattered the remaining fugue of fatigue, I struggled to sit up.

  My muscles laughed in my fucking face, weak and wrung out.

  Groaning, I swallowed down the soreness in my throat and assessed why the fuck I was so battered.

  Elixir.

  Jinx.

  Copious amounts of copulation.

  Inhaling hard, I struggled upright, groaning at the fresh misery of movement.

  I froze.

  My bed held company.

  Her.

  Goddammit.

  Her.

  The silver-eyed, coffee-haired priestess from my dreams.

  I vaguely remembered grabbing her in my sleep. Of keeping her with me instead of allowing her to vanish. But…she wasn’t real.

  This girl wasn’t her.

  This girl was an imposter.

  A liar.

  Someone who could never be trusted because she’d forced me to do so many things against my will. Things like touch her, want her, fall for her.

  She lay on her side, curled tight into a little ball as if trying to avoid my very presence. Her eyes remained closed, her body lax with unconsciousness. What the fuck was she still doing here?

  She needed to leave.

  Immediately.

  All the emotions from yesterday—the blistering connection that’d grown unavoidable thanks to sex—hummed louder and louder the longer I stared.

  Groaning under my breath, I scooted to the edge of the bed and swung my legs to the floor. The room swam, and black spots took their goddamn time playing with my vision. Gritting my teeth, I pushed upward and fought the urge to trip to the side with vertigo.

  I needed hydration.

  I needed sustenance.

  I needed to get the hell away from her before she—

  “Sully…”

  I spun around, cursing as I stumbled forward and grabbed the mosquito net for support. It ripped a little, creaking from its hook on the ceiling.

  Eleanor sat up in bed, her eyes sniper-sharp while mine still struggled to focus.

  My heart was no longer operational. Somewhere along the line of yesterday’s chaos, it had torn itself into pieces and scattered like strips of bloody paper. But those tiny pieces still did their best to beat erratically, wanting to claim her, all while wanting to kill her for what she’d made me become.

  She sat up on her knees, the sheet falling away from her nakedness. “Are you okay? How are your lungs? Do you remember yesterday? You almost drowned and—”

  “Do I remember?” I held up a hand, shutting her up. “Yes, I fucking remember. I remember everything.”

  How amazing you felt.

  How well we fit together.

  How it felt like home when I was inside you.

  “Then…are you okay? Can you breathe alright?”

  My eyes locked onto her body.

  Onto the handprints, the fingerprints, the cuts, the bruises, the bite marks.

  Fuck.

  Fuck!

  Rage blended with disgust, and I laid every fiery ferocity at her feet. “You dare ask how I am?” I stalked around the bed until I reached her side, towering over her. “You dare sit there and be concerned when you’re the one in fucking ruin? Look at what you made me do to you. I warned you. I told you to fucking run, Eleanor.”

  She glanced down at her chest, at the mottling of her skin, at the crimes I’d smeared her with. And all she did—this infuriating, dangerous goddess who had never learned her place—all she did was shrug. “I’m not nearly as sore as I usually am after Euphoria. I’ve had worse.”

  She jumped as a feral snarl crawled up my throat.

  “You’ve had worse.” Bending over her, I planted both fists onto the bed. I used the stability of the mattress to keep me standing but also as a reminder that violence on top of violence did not equal peace. “You’ve had worse. Please, remind me when such disaster occurred before I paid money for your life.”

  The tinder spark of temper filled her gaze, switching grey for glowing ember. “You want to go there? Fine.” Inhaling hard, she muttered, “I’ve had worse, Sully Sinclair, when I was beaten and stolen from a backpackers’ kitchen. I’ve had worse when I was knocked out and transported to some hovel where other women huddled in the dark. I’ve had worse when men stripped me, touched me, tattooed me, and then sent me to you.”

  “You’re forgetting all of that was because of me.”

  Her teeth bared. “I agree you bought me, but you weren’t responsible for me being chosen. They picked me because I was naïve and stupid. They saw an opportunity and—”

  “Fuck!” I reared back, digging my hands into my hair. Seemed honesty burned a hole in my tongue because I snarled, “It wasn’t opportunistic. It was predetermined.”

  Her temper flickered a little. “What…what do you mean?”

  “I mean I asked for them to find you. I gave them your description months ago. I’ve bought other girls since then. I forgot that I’d asked. I forced myself to forget that I sent traffickers an intimate description of someone who isn’t real. But then they found you. You. Were. Real. You were real enough for them to deliver you to me, and I fucking bought you, even knowing it was the biggest mistake of my fucking life.”

  “But—” She shook her head. “How…how could you ask for me when we hadn’t even met?”

  I ignored her question, continuing my rampage. “And then you arrived, and the moment your feet touched my shores, I knew this would fucking happen.” I sliced my hand through the air, pointing at her wounds. Wounds I’d caused. Wounds that made my throbbing cock twitch to cause more.

  My teeth had punctured her throat. My cock had been balls deep inside her. My so-called love had tainted her with blood instead of beauty.

  She deserved that pain.

  Because it didn’t come close to the depth of mine.

  “You and that haughty elegance. You and that impenetrable grace.” My voice turned into a blade, dripping with poison. I wanted her to hate me as much as I hated her. I wanted this to be an end between us.

  Over.

  Done.

  I fucking refused to allow the emotions in my shredded heart to manifest any more than they already had, because I did not do well with love. I
did not trust it. I didn’t trust anything. And most of all, I didn’t trust her. “But I did right by you. I kept myself leashed. I didn’t take you the moment I saw you. I didn’t fuck you on the beach the second you arrived. I didn’t confuse a fantasy with reality because you might look like her, but you aren’t her. You can never be her.”

  “Not who?”

  “I even went out of my goddamn way to protect you from me. Roy Slater offered the best deal any guest has for a goddess. And what did you do?” My nostrils flared as yet more fury exploded through my blood. “You gave me elixir. You stood there taunting me, instead of running. You let me put my hands on you, my cock in you, and my heart—” I clamped a hand over my mouth, shutting up my spew of honesty.

  Breathing hard, I scratched my thickening beard and growled, “What were you hoping to achieve, huh? You just wanted a fuck? Euphoria turn you from frigid to constantly horny?” I laughed icily. “Well, I hope I delivered because I won’t apologise for the marks I’ve left on you. I won’t apologise for any other pain I caused. You caused this. Not me.”

  I’m sorry.

  So, so fucking sorry.

  Grief had turned my anger into a toxic thing. I hadn’t woken up with the intention of yelling at her. If anything, I’d planned to be cordial—to ensure I hadn’t hurt her too much, that she was mentally sound after a day of being used by me while at the height of my lust, and then place her on the helicopter with Roy Slater.

  We’d had our time.

  We’d had each other.

  We didn’t need to part with a fight.

  I was giving her her freedom, for fuck’s sake, and instead, she stared at me as if I was betraying her in every possible way.

  Slowly, she balled her hands and cocked her head. Delicate tangles of hair dribbled over her shoulders, caressing her finger-bruised breasts, bracketing her strangled throat.

  I almost buckled to my fucking knees for what I’d done.

  She’d not only given me her body yesterday, but she’d also brought me back to life…in so many brutal ways. She’d hauled from the waterfall; she’d pounded my heart until it beat again, and then successfully yanked the bloody, broken thing from my chest and taken it as a memento of our time together.

  She didn’t steal it, you coward.

  You’d already given it to her. Remember? The second she appeared in that gown. The moment you decided to keep her.

  Fuck, my thoughts were scrambled. Lethargy filled with lechery, a concoction that didn’t allow sanity to be present.

  “I suggest you sit down before you pass out.” Her voice remained smooth as perfect glass.

  “I suggest you get the hell out of my villa.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I will.” She moved with sinuous grace, slipping one leg to the floor and standing upright. “But not before I say something.”

  Naked. Both of us. Bruised and branded. Equal monsters in this war. Both too stubborn. Both too stupid to admit how easy it would be between us. How good. How real. How much it would destroy us when it went bad.

  She licked her lips, pinning me to the spot. The room swam, my stomach growled for food, and my shattered self-control howled to snatch her. To hug her. To just breathe her in and believe in a simpler world.

  But then she opened her mouth and smashed apart the very concept of simple.

  “You say this was my fault, but I don’t agree.”

  I flinched as if she’d slapped me. I tried to laugh, but it came out more like a choke. “You’re blaming this on me?”

  “I am.” She nodded regally. “You admitted it yourself. You asked them to find me. You brought me here because you believed I could be the woman you dreamed about.”

  I tripped backward, the room spinning faster, my lungs forgetting how to breathe.

  “You fight against what exists between us because, for some reason, you’ve given up hope on your own happiness.” She strode toward me. “And I have to accept that, because who am I to be the one to make you happy?” Her lips sneered condescendingly. “I’m just a goddess to serve your guests. A whore to make you money.” Her hand landed on my chest, five fingers of pure venom.

  I fought the urge to cough, the dregs of drowning yesterday finally hurting my ability to breathe. Lust sprang through my blood, deformed and delusional.

  “But here’s the thing, Sully.” She stood on her tiptoes, bringing her lips to my ear. “I think we’re both to blame because I might have used elixir for us to sleep together yesterday…but—” Her voice cracked with worry, as if not entirely sure of the repercussions of what she was about to say. “But…that wasn’t our first time. Was it?”

  In a single heartbeat, I captured her wrists in my hands, squeezing tight. “What did you say?”

  She shivered with panic but forced herself to go on. “You were familiar. My body recognised yours.” Her eyelashes fluttered as she rushed, “You told me Euphoria hides who we truly sleep with. It could be our greatest enemy or our biggest love. Our minds are deceived but our bodies know the truth.”

  I stopped breathing altogether.

  “You were the caveman…that first time I was in Euphoria, weren’t you?”

  I shoved her away from me, shaking out my hands and the constant chemistry from touching her.

  Fuck.

  Goddammit!

  “Leave, Goddess Jinx. You’ve had all you’ll ever have from me.”

  “You traded places with the guest…didn’t you? You fucked me in that cave. You were the one who—”

  “Enough.” I forced a callous sneer on my face. “You’re accusing me of having such shitty self-control that I ignored a fully paid contract between my guest and my business just because I had a hard-on for a new, untrained goddess?”

  “I’m saying you felt something…even then.”

  “Felt what? Love?”

  She gasped. “Was it?”

  I laughed as low and as cruel as I could. “I’m sorry to pop your incorrect conclusions of me, but I don’t believe in love at first sight.”

  “Well...it was something at first sight.”

  “Something?” I rolled my eyes, cursing when the room leapt and faded. “You’re basing this whole theory that you felt something?”

  “We felt something.”

  I stalked into her, cupping the bruises I’d already decorated her neck with. I squeezed maliciously, making her swallow hard against my thumbs. “You want me to admit I felt something for you?”

  “I want you to admit that I’m something to you. Anything. Admit that you’re as lost as I am.”

  Violence tried to escalate into arousal. I wanted to fuck this girl. I wanted to punish her for ever having the courage to force me to admit things I would never admit.

  Even to myself.

  But my body was past useful.

  My cock held marks from too many orgasms yesterday. My lips cracked from too many kisses. And her? She held so many contusions from my so-called love.

  This was over.

  “The only thing I felt was pain. Pain because you are noticeable. Pain because you are something. Pain because you can never be more than whatever fucked-up mess this has become.”

  Her pulse throbbed beneath my thumbs as I did my best to systematically destroy the stars in her eyes and the wishing in her heart. “You, Eleanor Grace, are something. You have the power to be everything. And that is why you’ll forever remain nothing.”

  Tears cascaded from her gorgeous grey eyes, trickling down her cheeks and over my fingers. “How can you turn your back on this? You felt it too. I know you did. That moment we first met. That punch to the guts. That squeeze around the heart.”

  “Don’t project how you felt onto me.”

  She stomped her foot, frustration bleeding into her voice. “Don’t deny me the truth, Sully. Please. Tell me. Was it you? Was it you in Euphoria?”

  “You need to go.” Releasing her throat, I backed away, struggling to stay lucid, cursing how my body shook. My system had depleted
itself to zero from yesterday’s carnage. Now, it ran headfirst toward a grave.

  I needed to rest. I needed to collapse.

  I needed her to leave me the hell alone so I could pretend I hadn’t royally fucked up my life.

  I’d been caught. She knew. But I’d be damned if I confessed.

  Because her questions were the same ones I’d asked myself. Why had I entered Euphoria for the first time that night? Why had I gone to her in the skin of a caveman and enjoyed the best sex of my life…until yesterday? Why had the very idea of giving her to Markus Grammer made me become a psychotic murderer?

  I’d done him a favour by not giving him Jinx.

  If I had…he’d be bones on the ocean floor and his flesh in the bellies of reef sharks by now.

  Turned out, instead of ruining his life, I’d ruined mine.

  And I honestly didn’t know how to fucking fix it.

  Chapter Seven

  IT WAS HIM.

  It has to be...

  I sat dazed on the beach, looking out to sea, clutching a diamond that had been gifted for the use of my body. A diamond that Sully had bought me…or a guest? Was this a secret admittance to how he felt, or a stone weeping in lust from another?

  Unlike blindfolds and other methods to hide true identity, Sully’s Euphoria successfully hid everything: eye colour, voice, height, scent, and features.

  All I had were instincts and guesses.

  And those faltered in the face of Sully’s protestation.

  Why did I think I knew better than a well-rehearsed, perfectly delivered hallucination? How did I think I would recognise Sully behind the smoke and mirrors and scientific tricks he used?

  I wanted to remain confident in my accusation. To cling to the hope that he hadn’t been able to rent me because that meant his lies would eventually lose.

  But I honestly didn’t know anymore.

  The diamond rested heavily in my hand as I stared at a perfect vista, watching as the sun set on another painful day, glowing with so many things I never thought I would do.

  I now paid the price of those decisions.

  Everything I’d done, every action I’d taken, every mistake I’d chased, and hope I’d embraced, I did because of one thing.