Chapter 22

Twenty-Two

TOM

There was no destination.I simply drove for hours, aimlessly and hopelessly trying to get her out of my system.

What the fuck happened back there?

None of it made sense. No matter how hard I tried, I could not stave off the hunger—my need for this woman.

As far as I wanted to get away from her, every turn I made seemed to lead back to my place. Where I’d left her. And she was probably confused and wondering what type of asshole she’d gotten messed up with.

I wanted to end it. To walk away before things got really ugly.

Shit.

I knew it the first time I kissed her. My cock was harder than a fucking lead pole, but it was more than physical, what she did to me. She brought something back. Something I thought was long dead and buried six feet below the ground. What a fool. To think my past wouldn’t be unearthed one day.

Pulling into my driveway hours later, I couldn’t remember how far or for how long I had driven, but it hadn’t been long enough. My body still raged with some kind of fire. I stared up at my third-floor window.

Could she still be here?

If she had any sense at all she would have packed her things and left my sorry ass behind. Alone was better, safer for both of us. Hell, I knew it but I didn’t want to accept it. The thought of losing her now made my body tremble.

Forcing myself on her?

Fucking asshole.

But I hadn’t been able to resist her. Not by a long shot.

I’d been there before and lost, badly—barely even made it out alive. Literally.

So why the fuck am I doing this again?

I thought I was stronger than this. Stronger than my need to possess her and make her mine. But the scent of her sweet perfume still lingering on my shirt and hands…shit. She was gonna be my downfall. No other woman had been able to resist me. None had made me throb with desire like this, either. Perhaps it was because there was an innocence about her. She wasn’t trying to impress me. She wasn’t trying to be sexy or alluring or interesting. She simply was all of those things without even knowing it. And it was effortless. It was that genuineness that attracted me to her. That snared me and wasn’t letting me go.

Or maybe it was because my charms, my money, and my good looks—none of it mattered to her.

“God dammit, Sara. What the hell did you do to me?”

I pulled the car inside the garage, and in the dark, walked up to the kitchen. Place was silent except for the sound of the crashing waves of the ocean echoing through the house.

It was why I’d bought this property. I’d grown up near water, but Lake George was a place I didn’t care to return to, too many bad memories. Too much baggage.

The ocean gave me a sense of freedom and peace while washing away the darkness and pain that lingered with the lake.

After dropping my keys on the counter, I took off my blazer and walked over to the bar. Instinctively, I reached for the old bottle of scotch. I’d kept the bottle unopened—a personal reminder of the battle that almost claimed my life once. Staring hard at it as I had so many other times, I contemplated the possibilities.

I could drown it all out again.

Without hesitation, I broke the seal and poured myself a glass.

Tightly gripping it, the damn need to numb the burn slowly consumed me. It crept from the tips of my fingers, up my arms, to the thirsty dry desert of my mouth and finally down to the cramp in my gut.

It could be so easy.

One sip would end it. It was so tempting, almost too much.

I let the tumbler hover over the sink.

I’ve already broken one rule, what’s one more?

My mind and body were at odds. One drink would end the ache building in my chest, but it would also plunge me into an abyss from which there might be no return. Tipping the glass, I watched intently as the alcohol slowly poured out and disappeared down the drain.

It will not beat me. Not tonight.

I walked over by the stairs and stared up. She didn’t leave. Her scent was as real and vivid as it had been when I’d held her in my arms. Once, I might have gone up the stairs and tried to finish what I’d started, but that was not tonight. Sara was home. My home. And now it would never be the same.

Plopping on the couch, I stared out the double doors and into the darkness of the night, waiting for the sleep that never came.