Imperfect Forgery: (A Dark Romantic Suspense) Read online

Page 6


  "Hangover?"

  I almost drop the coffee jar, unprepared for his voice behind me. David stands in the doorway, the empty bottle of vodka in his hand, and smiles.

  I cannot help but snicker. "Told you, I was a lonely alcoholic."

  "So you did." He steps behind the kitchen counter with me. "You also told me, there was somebody else..."

  My heart stalls for a moment. I should regain some distance before Mauro returns, but an unanswered question hangs between us. "It's over…" I turn away to pick up a cup from the cupboard above the sink. "We talked and chose to remain friends. That's what the bottle was for."

  "I'm glad." His warm breath into my hair conveys his intentions.

  The woody scent of his cologne drives me back to last night, and I am desperate for the softness of his lips, the desire to turn around and taste them consuming my reason.

  "How do you like it?" I fight not to stutter my words and turn to face him.

  David's eyes darken.

  I back myself against the sink, now helplessly stuttering, "I... I mean... the coffee."

  "I like it hot..." His voice is low and husky. "Like molten lava, you are burning me alive. I cannot think of anything else than tasting those lips. I am dying how much I want to kiss you."

  "Please do..." My voice is a whisper. "David, please, kiss me..."

  He presses his body to mine, the hardness against my lower belly, impossible to mistake for anything else. "Can you feel what your voice does to me?"

  My hands find their way around his neck and pull him closer. "Show me." I press my lips to his. Tenderly. Cautiously even.

  The kiss tastes like fresh mint and black coffee. His hands slide around my waist as he takes the lead, his mouth hot and demanding, his day-old stubble tickling my skin, his tongue inviting my lips to open for him. I part them with a moan that vanishes inside his mouth.

  "How do you like it?" He teases me, gently nudging my lips with his teeth. "Your coffee that is."

  I am too far gone to retain any shyness, so I circle his mouth with the tip of my tongue in response. "Can't you tell?"

  "I need another tasting," he growls and buries his hands in my loose curls. I moan and rock my hips to the rhythm his tongue plays inside my mouth, driving me insane. I invite him in to explore, to learn all about me, to conquer every part of my body and soul.

  David releases my hair and pulls my over-sized T-shirt up, his hands sneaking underneath to cup my breasts. "Perfect," he murmurs, and I cannot suppress a loud moan when he pinches my nipples in between his fingers and twists them.

  He chuckles content, and I seize the moment to bite his upper lip for teasing me. He doesn’t stop. David's wet kisses trail down my chin to my neck. A cocktail of a stinging sensation, goosebumps, and overwhelming desire floods my body when he sinks his teeth just above my collarbone. "That's for biting my lip," David hums, trailing his lips to the back of my neck. Heat spreads through my bloodstream like a wildfire, consuming every last bit of my remaining sanity, and I don't ever want to regain it.

  But a slamming door alerts us both instantly, and a claw of choking fear grips my neck. David steps aside mere seconds before Mauro enters the kitchen.

  Mauro is ready to pounce the moment he spots David, the training to keep people away from me still running deep, but instead he shifts his gaze to me. "Are you okay?"

  I nod because I am unable to speak. I am certain Mauro suspects us. The imprint of what happened is probably written all over my face, my lips are swollen from the kiss, and my nipples are hard proof of the state I am in.

  "I am here to take her to the station," David speaks up, taking a step closer to Mauro. "Lavinia needs to sign her release papers and her statement, which she forgot to do last night."

  I fill myself a glass of water, fighting to keep my heart from jumping out of my chest, and wedge between the two fuming men.

  "It's fine, Mauro," I try to sound as confident as I can. I take the pill Mauro hands me and smile. "I'll be back as soon as possible."

  I down the pill, even though my headache seems to have evaporated the moment David kissed me.

  Mauro reluctantly takes the glass from my hands and walks over to the sink, granting me enough space to face David again. "Could you wait for me downstairs while I get dressed, officer?"

  The tension would explode if I left them both, I'm afraid. I wait for David to leave and retreat into the bedroom, unable to face Mauro.

  He had always protected me when we were children. Silvio exploited that knowledge against us multiple times by choosing to punish one of us for the mistakes of the other. After our failed escape, Father turned Mauro's need to protect me into an obsession to guard me like Cerberus, which was not difficult for the man who pulled his only biological son's strings ever since he was a baby. Mauro was desperate to please his father to attain for his mother's sin of running away, but this was probably why Silvio treated him worse than any other child.

  The memory of the other children throws me off balance, and I plummet on top of the mattress to regain some solid grounding.

  They disappeared one by one, and I never found out what happened. I was sure I would be next, but years went by, and I remained in the basement with Mauro and canvas and paint. Sometimes Mauro would take the beating for my mistakes, but Silvio never missed the opportunity to inflict direct pain on me. He loved for me beg for mercy and never grant it.

  Forcing myself off the bed and into my loose khaki pants, black tank top, and short faux leather jacket, I head for the door.

  As I tie my pink converses, my eyes scan the place for Mauro. My heart stalls in fear he might have gone after David until the roar of running shower reaches my ears.

  I run out before the rising panic attack can immobilize me and fly down the stairs, unbothered to wait for the elevator.

  My anxiety soothes when I spot David casually leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone.

  "Are you looking for new phone dates?" A smile takes over my face.

  He grins and opens the passenger door for me. "You see, I met this mysterious girl, who wished for us to remain strangers, but I am afraid I can no longer accept her rules."

  "No?" I lean against the open door. "How is she going to spend her lonely nights now? You know, your mouth is perfect for... talking."

  "You are a dangerous woman, Lavinia," he murmurs and leans closer.

  I freeze.

  "Don't call me that, please."

  David stares at me, his eyes narrowing, and I know I owe him this much truth. "My father calls me that when he is angry. Call me Lava instead."

  "My pleasure, but I have a better name for you, Kahina." He winks, but there is an open concern behind that wink. "Are you afraid of him? Tell me, does he hurt you?"

  "Not here," I whisper and point my gaze to the windows above us. "Mauro might be watching. David, I know you must have tons of questions, accusations maybe, but you must understand that I need time. I promise to tell you everything one day." I climb into his SUV, and David closes the door.

  "You will enjoy all the space and time you need this weekend," he assures me after getting into the driver's seat. My immediate confusion only amuses him. "Did you really think we were going to the station? My dear Kahina, I am nowhere near done kissing you." David cracks up laughing when he spots my flaming cheeks.

  This heat confuses me. I experienced most perverse and depriving sexual acts, yet the simple thought of his lips against mine sets more than just my cheeks ablaze.

  "Where are we going?"

  "I am taking you away from here for a weekend."

  Frost destroys every sparkle as fear begins to choke me. "No! I can't! David, I need to come back. I have to. He would..." My voice breaks.

  David pulls over. One glance at me, and he locks the doors faster than I manage to bolt out!

  "Doors won't open, so stop trying." David leans closer and holds my face in his hands. "Breathe... Just breathe. You're safe. Nobody is going to
hurt you. I swear!"

  "You don't understand," I sob. "And after the weekend? What happens then? No, the more time passes, the more... I can't, David!"

  "Then you will stay with me for as long as you want to. Forget everything and everyone this weekend, and when it is over, we will figure out how to keep you safe. Together. Do you trust me?"

  Trust... I'm not sure what this word means. I cannot even trust my body. My life is a prison, where sex is both the punishment and the reward. Only the level of pain varies accordingly. What would I be willing to sacrifice for two days of living a dream?

  I sink into David's stormy sky eyes, and I find my answer.

  Everything.

  "I trust you."

  I do, but he will never be able to protect me. Nobody can. I am trading my life in exchange for two days of freedom with the man capable of making me blush.

  He smiles, relieved. David's lips touch mine – a gentle caress, and a confirmation of his pledge. I sigh and close my eyes when the engine roars again. No way back now.

  About an hour later, we pull into the driveway of a house the size of Silvio's mansion. This house, though, is light and full of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the lake. Lush green trees surround the property; the only dominating sounds are those of waves washing the shore and the birds chirping. Barely a few cars pass the road. It is so peaceful here. "Is this how freedom feels?" My question comes aloud.

  David laughs and pulls me closer. "No, beautiful, this is how freedom feels," he says, leaning in for a kiss. My hands slide into his hair, and I press my lips against his. I kiss him with no fear, no threats, and no restraints. A very alien sensation floods my mind – safety in the arms of a stranger and no stranger at all.

  The sound of a car honking, followed by cheers and whistles makes us both chuckle. "Let's try not to cause any road accidents," David laughs and unlocks the front door. "Shall we?"

  "Who owns this place?" I ask, stepping inside a vast open space with high ceilings and white oak floors. The place is a subtle combination of architectural design and simple beach house furniture. The views of the lake and the greenery surrounding the house astound me.

  "Why? Are you planning to seduce him?" A hint of reproach is undeniable in his question. A statement, really. David must spot my body shrink with the memory of the auction night because he immediately grabs my hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

  "Yes, you did," I reply reluctantly. "You promised me space and time, but you cannot forget. You cannot forgive me. Well, it makes two of us because I cannot forgive myself for that night either."

  "I had no right to reproach you. You were free to choose whomever you wanted to sleep with, for whatever reasons."

  A smirk on my face goes unnoticed, as David focuses on keeping my hands in his.

  'Free to choose' has never been my option.

  "Believe me, I regret every second of that night, except for those brief moments our eyes met." I free my hand and caress his stubble.

  "Maybe the moment was brief, but it remained imprinted in my brain." He kisses my palm. "This is almost surreal you being the same mystery girl on the phone."

  Another hint of distrust is like a knife to my heart, and he is not entirely wrong not to believe in accidents.

  I step aside and walk to the window, unable to look him in the eyes. "David, I swear to you, I never meant to call you. I was desperate to reach Mauro before he..."

  "Before what?" David sits at the edge of a cream-colored couch by the window beside me. I dare to turn around, and David grips my hips to pull me in between his legs. "What were you so afraid of that night?"

  I run my fingers through his ebony strands. "It doesn't matter now. Family issues. None of that matters now. What matters is if you believe me."

  "You must understand there are simply too many coincidences... Tell me something... Anything..." His eyes search mine for answers I am too terrified to give. "No, I'm sorry. I promised to give you time, and I will. Until then, I choose to believe you, and that's why I brought you here.'' David stands up and cups the back of my head. ''To answer your previous question, the house belongs to me."

  "David, I want to confess something," I say softly and giggle, seeing his eyebrows rise. "Seducing the owner of this house is my primary goal."

  "Minx," David laughs. "Where would you like to begin?"

  "Outside," I say. "I have never been to a beach, you know."

  His expression is demanding for more.

  "I grew up surrounded by concrete walls." And that is the truth.

  My heart tries to escape my chest as we approach the lake. The fear of drowning runs so deep I've never spent more time than absolutely necessary by the water. Today, however, the warmth of David's hand in mine pushes the darkness aside, allowing me to keep my anxiety at bay.

  The afternoon sun floods the surface of the water with golden light; small waves crash on the sand filled with tiny stones and shells, and something different than fear of drowning squeezes my throat tight. Letting go of David's hand, I bend over and bury my hands into the mixture of sand, stones, and shells. Why does this pure impression of shells in between my fingers seem so familiar?

  And why does my heart rip to pieces all of a sudden?

  David stands next to me as I pick up a few shells and hide them inside the pocket of my baggy trousers. Again, the familiarity of this throws me off balance completely – enough to make my eyes water.

  "Is everything all right?" David lifts my chin up.

  "I'm not sure how to explain this," I say, looking at him, and sinking into the depths of his eyes, which shimmer like the water at our feet.

  "I feel so different, almost like a different person." Someone who has a story beyond concrete walls, pain, and sex, I want to add. "It's like the rest of the world doesn't exist anymore," I say instead.

  David tangles his fingers inside my curls and draws me closer. "I know exactly what you mean." His lips almost touch mine. Almost! David teases me, "Nothing else exists when I am with you like this. When your racing heart beats against mine… When your rapid breathing tickles my lips... There is only one thought on my mind, and it is not a decent one."

  A quiet grunt flies out of my mouth in the aftermath of his words, and for the first time in my life, I desire a man to do all the indecent things to me. I am ready to beg for it even. "Kiss me already..."

  The heat spreads through my body when his mouth captures mine. Insatiable hunger radiates from him, awakening something primal in me. My hands find their way around his neck, and I glue my body to his. "Let's go back," I whisper breathlessly.

  "I don't think I can let go of your lips just yet," David growls in between kisses and captures my lower lip with his teeth.

  His hands slide inside the back of my trousers and cup my butt-cheeks as our bodies rub against each other in a suggestive rhythm.

  I am losing myself, and I know I can never be the same again.

  "Da shtoz takoe v publichnom meste seksom zanimatsia! I kak ne stidno!" A woman's voice throws us back into reality. We may have forgotten the rest of the world, but it did not make us invisible.

  The woman gives us another condemning look and continues muttering something under her lips, her pocket-sized dog running around us.

  I blush and smile, caressing the animal before it runs off after the lady.

  "What was her problem?" David grins, pulling me inside his embrace again.

  "She cursed at us for having sex in public," I answer without thinking and turn to stone on the spot.

  "You speak Russian? I guess it was Russian, no?"

  "I guess it was," I manage to answer, watching the vanishing silhouettes of the woman and her dog. "And no, I don't speak Russian..."

  "Then how could you understand what she said?"

  I stare at David, as confused as he is. "I don't know..."

  Chapter 9

  David

  "My father was an architect," I say when I step into the balcony overlooking t
he lake, carrying two glasses of red wine. After we returned from the walk, Lava wrapped herself in a soft quilt and curled up on a sunbed, pleading for us to stay in the balcony, despite the chilly spring evening.

  I hand her the glass while trying to conceal my ever-growing curiosity. She has never been to the beach – that's possible – but how does someone her age avoid stepping foot inside a diner? And why does sadness radiate whenever she speaks about herself?

  I am puzzled and curious. I can only hope, if I open up to her, Lava will eventually do the same.

  "A major architecture company offered my father a job in the States, and my parents moved to Chicago, but my mother never felt comfortable in a city. When she got pregnant with me, my father built this house so that I could grow up surrounded by nature."

  "It is lovely." Lava beams. "Do your parents come here often?"

  I sit on the sunbed beside hers. "Not anymore. They passed away a long time ago. Stage-three ovarian cancer killed my mother when I was eleven. She fought for two years, endured every sickening chemotherapy treatment, but lost the battle. My father never recovered after she died. He tried his best to hide the agony eating him up alive, but I knew that every day without her equaled torture for him, and seeing my eyes, identical to my mother's, was only adding to his heartache.

  "My father went on exhausting himself to sleep daily, and one day the exhaustion claimed its prize. He was not careful enough while on a construction site and fell from the seventh floor... This happened half a year after my mom's death."

  "Oh, no!" Lava exhales the words and grabs my hand. "What about you?"

  What about me? Love destroyed my father and was killing me too. I chose to avoid any possibility to become its next victim. When I decided to expose myself again, Evelyn crushed me. After that, I threw away the keys to my heart, as bloody cheesy as it may sound.

  Only now, when I look at the gorgeous woman cocooning in my quilt, my heart keeps knocking and kicking at those bolted doors to get to her.