Clipped Wings

20

TENLEY

My back was on fire. The smell of burned skin and hair wasn’t potent enough to overpower the stench of fuel. The smoke was thick, like acrid fog bearing down on me. At least the heavy haze partially masked the visual devastation; mangled bodies, faces no longer recognizable.

“Miss! Miss! Stay where you are!”

A blanket shrouded my shoulders, and a hand smoothed down my back.

Crippling pain buckled my knees. Black spots swam in my vision, spreading until they blocked out the light.

“We’ve got another survivor in here!”

The black abyss welcomed me, luring me in with its freedom from agony.

I shot up with a gasp, half expecting to be back on the plane, still trying to escape. Pale morning light shone through the curtains. I was in my bed in Chicago.

“Bad dream?”

Sarah startled me. She was lying on her back on Hayden’s side of the bed.

“Sorry.” She sat up. “How’re you feeling?”

My back really did feel like it was on fire. I touched my shoulder and cringed. Plastic wrap. The previous evening came filtering through as the muddiness of nightmare-riddled sleep cleared. Hayden finished the outline. A woman who knew him more intimately than I liked showed up at the shop. When he sent me home I took painkillers. The strong ones prescribed after the accident, not Tylenol, as Hayden requested. I also took medication for the anxiety. Then I sought out Sarah with a bottle of tequila. The end of the night was unclear.

“I feel waterlogged.” My voice was raw, like I’d been screaming. I hoped I hadn’t. “Did I have a lot of nightmares?”

Sarah shrugged. “Mostly you were restless and you kept spooning with me.”

“Why do I feel so . . . out of it? God, my back hurts.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say your back hurts because of the gigantic tattoo. You’re probably out of it because we smoked a little.”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Not cigarettes.”

“Oh. I don’t smoke that, either.” That explained why my throat felt raw.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah said. “I thought it would help relax you. It was stupid of me. Your boyfriend was pretty pissed about it.”

“Hayden’s not . . .” For a myriad of reasons, guilt the most predominant one, I hesitated to put a label on what we had. “Where is Hayden?”

“I sent him home.”

“What? Why would you do that? Was he angry?” Everything in my head was scrambled.

“He wasn’t angry, not at you, anyway. He wasn’t very happy with me, though.” Sarah reached for the bottle of water on the nightstand and took a swig.

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” She almost looked relieved.

A few disjointed memories from the previous evening began to solidify. I struggled to pull the snippets of conversation together, but they didn’t make sense. In fact, I couldn’t remember much, and Hayden’s absence made me nervous. I remembered him stopping by and Sarah arguing with him, over what I didn’t know. I also recalled crying.

“Not a lot,” I admitted. “Why? Should I be worried?”

Sarah sighed. “Please don’t be upset with me.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“Hayden knows how many people you lost in the crash.” Sarah rushed the words, as if getting them out faster would make it easier to hear.

“What?” Panic constricted my throat.

“You have to understand, I assumed he knew. He just showed up here unannounced, like he owned the place, and I freaked out. I’ve seen him before at work, and he was with that guy who can’t take a hint. Hayden said his name is Chris?” Sarah obviously didn’t know Chris worked across the street. She misread my shocked expression and hurried to explain further. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Well, it does, but not really. You were so upset last night when I came over. I hadn’t seen you this week, and all of a sudden you have this huge tattoo, and then this tatted-up guy comes in like the dark knight of whatever. You got . . . emotional. Hayden stayed until you fell asleep.”

That explained the waterlogged feeling. Losing it in front of Sarah wasn’t ideal, but I feared Hayden’s reaction to such an outburst. I didn’t want to come across as weak or unstable.

“He left after that?”

“Not quite. He had some questions.”

“What kind of questions?” I asked, concerned about the answer.

“He wanted details. I told him when the accident happened.”

So he knew it wasn’t quite a year yet. That wasn’t too bad. “But you didn’t tell him why I was on the plane?”

“I told him you were going to your best friend’s wedding, but I didn’t elaborate.”

“You didn’t say anything about Connor?”

“No.”

“That’s good.” I exhaled a relieved breath.

“Tenley, sweetie, don’t you think he should know?”

“I’ll tell him eventually.” But not until I absolutely had to. I didn’t know how Hayden would deal with that kind of information or the fact that I’d kept it from him. I didn’t want him to think I was using him as a rebound. It scared me how much I needed him now. I couldn’t risk putting any distance between us. “You’re sure he wasn’t upset with me?”

“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “He was beside himself when you broke down. He didn’t want to leave, but I told him I would stay. I kind of threatened to castrate him.”

“You did what?”

She waved her hand. “Figuratively speaking. Anyway, we reached an understanding, so as long as he holds up his end of the deal, he gets to keep his balls.”

“I’d be interested to know what kind of deal you struck.”

“Feel free to ask him,” Sarah said, her smile full of mischief. She grew serious. “You know, it might have helped if I’d known you were sleeping with the guy. I have some thoughts on that, but I’m not going to share them with you right now, since you look like you might beat me with that pillow.”

I tossed aside the pillow. “I never said I was sleeping with him.”

Sarah arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to. It was written all over Hayden’s face. That, and he told me he was staying here every night. I assume you’re not making him sleep on the couch.”

I laughed. I would have to be certifiable to relegate Hayden to the couch.

“I can see why you’re into him. He’s got that badass man-pretty thing going on.”

“I would advise you to keep that observation to yourself. Hayden’s not a fan of the word pretty when it’s applied to him, even if it’s preceded by badass,” I said, glad to move on to lighter topics.

“I bet.”

We lay there until the pain in my back became too much. I shuffled to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. My skin felt tight, like a terrible sunburn. I took a regular painkiller and glanced at the anxiety meds. I couldn’t take any if I wanted to function, and I needed a clear head when I talked to Hayden today.

Before Sarah went home, she helped remove the plastic wrap. She was stunned by the intricacy of the design. I remembered little of what Hayden said about aftercare, but I did recall his chastising me over leaving the gauze on too long last time. The cool air functioned as both an irritant and a balm. Unable to bear the abrasiveness of fabric, I donned an apron to cover my chest and allow the tattoo to breathe.

Sarah promised to come back with coffee, so I left my door unlocked. The only new messages on my phone were ones I was evading. Trey continued to call, and I continued to ignore him, hoping eventually he would get the message and leave me alone. So far it hadn’t worked. I tried to work on my thesis, but I couldn’t focus enough to accomplish anything. It was still too early to call Hayden, so I decided to bake.

I pulled out my mixer and assembled the ingredients. Baking was a passion I inherited from my mom. Most of the time it relaxed me, but today it made me miss her more than ever. When the cupcakes were in the oven, I started on the icing. I was almost done sifting sugar when Sarah knocked on the door.

“Come on in.” I turned the speed down on the mixer and sifted in a little more sugar to improve the consistency.

The door opened and closed.

“Holy fuck.”

Hayden’s deep voice was unexpected. Icing sugar puffed out of the bag, a fine dusting settling on the counter and my skin. I flipped off the mixer and turned to find Hayden staring at me, slack-jawed, a tray with three take-out coffees in his hand. He set it on the edge of the counter, his eyes never straying from my body. My outfit was ridiculous. To complement the apron, I wore a pair of black shorts that covered too little to be good for anything but sleeping. And I had on leg warmers, because I liked them and they were comfortable.

“I thought you were Sarah,” I said meekly.

I feared the conversation we needed to have. From Sarah’s perspective, he’d seemed more shocked by the revelation than upset. Or maybe she was wrong. With a glower, Hayden stalked across the kitchen to stand over me. I tilted my head back. He looked tired, but he was freshly showered, his hair still damp. He skimmed my arms with his fingertips, barely touching me, a juxtaposition to the hard line of his mouth. “You took the cellophane off.”

“W-was I supposed to leave it on?” I stumbled over my response, taken off-guard. I’d expected immediate confrontation, not this.

“Did you do it by yourself?”

“Sarah helped me.”

“That’s my job.” His lip twitched.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t let it happen again.” I felt like we weren’t talking about the tattoo anymore.

“About last night—” I started.

“I get why it was too hard to tell me. I don’t like it, but I get it.”

“I shouldn’t have kept it from you.” I shouldn’t continue to keep things from him. And that was it, the horrible truth under it all. I couldn’t tell him the most significant part of my loss. Because in owning it, I would be forced to look at what I was doing with Hayden, and why he felt so much more right than Connor ever had.

“About when the accident happened or who was on the plane with you?” He was close, but he made no move to touch me again.

“Both.”

“No. You shouldn’t have. But it doesn’t change whether or not I’ll finish the tattoo if that’s what you’re worried about.” There was hurt lurking beneath his fierce front. As if he believed the tattoo was all that mattered to me. If only it had been that simple.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” I ached to touch him, ached just as much for his touch.

“What is it then?” Like he sensed my need, his knuckle brushed down my cheek and he lifted my chin.

I shook my head, unable to express my fears.

“Tenley, talk to me.”

“That woman at the shop—”

“Isn’t important.”

“But—”

“I wasn’t lying when I said you were the only one. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

Hayden demanded, he cursed and he seduced, but he didn’t plead. I sensed the weight of his fear in his tenderness. He was as afraid as I was to answer questions. As much as I wanted him to be right about what did and didn’t matter, I knew differently. My past haunted my present and shaped my future. But for now, I would let it go because whatever his demons were, I didn’t need them to haunt us both. Not yet.

I ran a hand up his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. In some ways, Hayden was just as fragile as me. “In case you were wondering, you’re the only one I want.”

A slow grin formed, cocky with a hint of relief. “You look tired. Did you sleep okay last night?”

“Not really.”

“Me neither. My bed felt empty.”

He braced a hand on the counter behind me and dropped a lingering kiss on my lips. When he straightened, he snuck a finger under the strap around my neck, following it down to where it met the apron bodice. “I like this.” It was blue with pink piping, covered in a cupcake print. Of course he liked it.

“What a surprise.”

“Can you turn around for me?”

“Why?”

“I want to check my art.”

“Oh.” I turned away from the mischievous glint in his eye hoping he couldn’t see my disappointment.

“What did you think I was going to do?” he asked. His hands settled on my hips and moved lower, covering the scar on the outside of my thigh.

“I don’t know.” Get me naked and take me from behind. We hadn’t done it that way yet.

“You don’t know, or you don’t want to say?”

When I stayed silent, he chuckled. “Please tell me you would never leave your apartment in these.” His finger glided along the hem of my shorts, grazing the curve of my backside.

“They cover all the important parts.”

“Barely.”

The ache between my thighs flared. “Don’t tease,” I whispered.

“Sorry.” He withdrew just as he reached the place where his fingers would have been most welcome.

The strangest emotion welled inside me; beyond desire and fear, quiet rage filtered through. I didn’t know what the impetus for it was. I only knew that if Hayden touched me the way I needed him to, it would go away.

“This looks good so far. Does it hurt much?” he asked as he traced the border of the design.

“I took something for it this morning,” I said. Even with the painkiller it hurt a lot, more around the scarred areas.

“It needs to be washed. I should have done it last night. I can take care of it now,” he said softly.

When I turned to face him, he looked repentant. I didn’t know what for, but if he needed forgiveness, there were other ways he could achieve it. “I have something else I would rather you take care of first.”

His throat bobbed with a nervous swallow. “Such as?”

I palmed the back of his neck. He resisted, conflict heavy in the slant of his brow.

“Please?” All my uncertainties funneled into the singular desire for him.

He ducked his head, lips light on mine, still holding back. “You taste sweet.”

He sucked on my bottom lip and cupped my cheek in his palm, his touch and his kiss gentle. I leaned into him, feeling the thick ridge of his erection against my stomach. He might not want to give in, but his body had other ideas. What I was about to do would make him crack.

“I made cupcakes.” I reached blindly to the side and felt for the edge of the mixing bowl. “And icing. Want a taste?”

I swiped at the rim of the bowl, gathering icing on my index finger before holding it up in front of him. His chest rose and fell, control slipping as he glared at me with something akin to helplessness. Resistance shattered, Hayden latched onto my wrist. My finger disappeared between his lips up to the second knuckle. I felt the press of teeth and the sweep of his tongue, followed by the hard metal of his tongue ring.

He released me with a loud, wet pop. “It’s fucking amazing.”

“You like it?” I asked, feeling an odd sense of pride.

“ ‘Like’ would be an understatement.”

Hayden reached behind me, dipping into the mixing bowl. He pressed on my bottom lip, watching with fascinated desire as his thumb slipped inside my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the soft pad and the smooth bed of nail. When I cleaned off the icing, I gave his thumb a hard suck, followed by a soft bite.

“Yummy.”

With an angry noise, he grabbed the back of my thighs and dropped me on the counter. His tongue invaded my mouth, the kiss aggressive even as his hand moved lightly down the outside of my thigh. “You must know what you’re doing to me,” he said, his tone full of accusation.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. It was a terrible lie. I wanted him to come apart, to match me in my unquenchable need.

He snorted in disbelief and bit my lip, sending little jolts of pain laced with erotic pleasure through me.

Running my hands through his hair, I pulled him close and wrapped my legs around his waist. I didn’t know what I thought was going to happen. He wouldn’t let it go very far, no matter how hard I pushed; my back was too tender. But I needed him in a way that didn’t make sense. It terrified me. I snaked a hand between our bodies to palm his erection anyway.

Hayden groaned, his fingers circling my wrist. “I can’t let you do that.”

It reminded me of the first time he kissed me. We’d been in this exact same position, but everything had changed since then. “Please don’t shut me down,” I begged.

He pulled away, his hands resting on my parted knees. I closed my eyes, unable to bear the humiliation. His palms moved higher until his thumbs swept along the juncture of my thighs and then under the hem of my shorts.

“I can make you feel good.” He pushed my legs wider apart. His fingers slid under the fabric and his knuckle brushed my clit. “Is that what you need me to do?”

I whimpered.

He stilled. “Is it?”

“Yes.” I held my breath, almost expecting him to withdraw with my admission. Hayden exhibited such staunch convictions that I never anticipated him actually giving in. I was sure there would be repercussions.

He kissed me again. It wasn’t as hard this time, but it was equally possessive. “Tell me you need this. Tell me you need me.”

“I need you.” We were united in our craving for each other. His desire was just as overwhelming as mine.

He made slow passes, barely grazing the sensitive skin as he watched his hand move under the cotton. He went lower, two fingers pushing inside, curling up and in, in a slow, even rhythm. His free hand wrapped around my ponytail and he angled my head to the side so he could kiss me and still see what he was doing.

I put my hand over his, wanting him to go deeper, harder. With every twist of his fingers he drove me closer to the edge. I arched into his touch and he palmed the back of my neck, keeping me close. I strained against him, my legs trembling, heat building and rising.

While it wasn’t the same as having him inside me, it was enough. It wasn’t just the physical gratification I wanted; it was the intimacy. I didn’t know how else to have the closeness I so desperately longed for. I clung to his shoulders as sensation expanded to consume me. Clenching around his fingers, I moaned into his mouth.

“I love watching you come,” he whispered, his kiss soft once again.

I mumbled incoherently and sagged against him, working to regain control of my limbs. I rested my head on his shoulder, wanting to maintain the connection for as long as possible. Even after the orgasm I still didn’t feel sated. I needed more from him. The tattoo, while cathartic, as Hayden said it would be, also tore open barely healed wounds. I was looking for a way to soothe the endless ache in my chest. Up until now Hayden had filled the empty part of me, but in the wake of the outline, new holes had developed.

“Did I make it better?” Hayden asked quietly.

I nuzzled into his neck and nodded, wishing we could stay like this forever.