Tainted Black - Williams Shanora (читать полностью книгу без регистрации .txt) 📗

And the sad part?

I still wasn’t ready.

And though I wasn’t, I was still hard for her, her velvety tongue going round and round. I tensed and pulsed, on the verge of exploding, but she yanked way, slipping out of her skirt and panties with haste. Her body came above me, thighs outside my lap and the entrance of her pussy right above my cock.

Her eyes, they filled with tears that didn’t need explaining, and as she rigidly slid down the length of me, her sadness spilled from her hazel eyes and streamed down her face. Her emotion gutted me. Her tears were the death of me.

I held my knight close, feeling as her body rocked with me, our kisses coated with salty emotion. I hated shedding tears, but as she watched me while making the sweetest, purest love to me, I could no longer control my feelings.

I was powerless as her pussy drenched my cock, and she cried my name, not only through pleasure but also with the pain that cut her deep. Skin slapped together, my hand gripping her ass as she bounced mercilessly.

And then it came.

I came.

We came beneath bright, burning stars that admired us, twinkling with merriment. We came between voracious midnight waves and the silvery light of the moon. Her head fell back, and I sucked greedily on her skin, not ever wanting the taste of her off my lips. I dropped my head, yanking her top down and exposing taut nipples. My mouth stimulated, sucking each one leisurely, and then I brought my mouth back up to hers, forcing her head down and eliciting a thick and heavy whimper.

I crushed her lips, the passion all-consuming, kissing her like my life was ending. I kissed that beautiful girl like I loved her. Because I did love her, and I would have done anything for her to be happy again.

But most of all, I kissed her like this, because I knew…

I knew this would be it.

This would be our last time.

We stilled, gasping for breath, but it seemed neither of us could supply it. We suffocated as if we were under the water that surrounded us, sinking deep in our dark ocean.

Once upon a time, our black sea was a miraculous place that we could share without worries. It was a place where we could be alone. We didn’t have to think. We didn’t have to fear. We just… were.

I held her tight as she jolted above me, and when those beautiful, watery, hazel eyes landed on mine, I whispered, “I love you so fucking much, Chloe.”

And her smile faltered. I witnessed the love she had for me, saw how much it broke her in two. Her bottom lip trembled, the dam wanting to break again. And she quietly whispered the magical words I loved hearing. “I love you, too, Theodore Black,” she said through a thick, wavering voice.

We stayed on the boat, floating in the middle of the ocean, for nearly three hours. I held her, and she held me. We didn’t say much. There wasn’t really anything more we could say. We’d had our fun. Although it didn’t last as long as we’d planned, it happened, and that was all I’d wanted, after all. Another chance. Another shot at becoming someone better. I wanted to love her in all the right ways and with every single ounce of me. I didn’t care if she’d squeezed me dry, soaking up all my affections. They were hers to take. I was hers… all hers. I. Belonged. To. Her. I would always belong to her.

Later that night, Chloe left me with one last kiss in my condo. No, she didn’t cave and come running back to me, confessing her truths and forgetting about all that happened an hour later. She was really gone.

I know because I checked.

There were plenty of unanswered calls and text messages. Fed up, I drove to Primrose Way every day for a solid week and a half about three days after our boat ride and never saw her car parked in the driveway.

I saw no trace of her, and after only a month, I heard from one of my old neighbors that her house had been put up for sale. Her father moved to an apartment in Orange County with the caregiver at his side. Chloe’s number had also changed. The number had been disconnected. That drawn out beep and then the “We’re sorry, but the number you have reached…” absolutely gutted me to hear.

I was ripped apart.

Deteriorating.

Dying little by little. Every. Single. Fucking. Day.

I never accepted her leaving. I never accepted it because I wasn’t ready to. I wanted us to have our happily ever after. I wanted Isabelle to accept the love I had for Chloe, but my daughter was stubborn and when she was angry, she was angry. She’d yet to fully accept my apologies. She brought the conversation up almost every time I called or saw her in person, but she was still my daughter, and she still needed me. She forgave me somewhat, but she hadn’t forgiven Chloe in the slightest.

She was hard on her for no reason, and I told her that.

I told her over and over again that it wasn’t her fault. I told her repeatedly that it was a mutual thing and that she had always been vulnerable to me. If anything, I should have been the one she never forgave, but Izzy saw it as nothing but her friend splitting them apart.

Not that it mattered anymore. It was the past. I stopped going to Primrose because I had all the evidence I needed. Chloe Knight, my beautiful, little knight, was gone, and I knew I would never see or hear from her again.

EPILOGUE

Five Years Later

Time is a tricky thing. It can be a mind game—a passing clock of deception, but it can also carry the gift of acceptance. Over time, I grew and became someone I never thought possible, and though it was hard getting over my past—my failures—I made do. I kept my head held high, even though some nights I would cry until I no longer could.

I missed how it used to be and the people I used to hang with. I missed the smiles, the laughs, the hugs, kisses, and even the momentary conflictions I endured. I shouldn't have missed it. After so long, it all just seemed so unreal, so unlikely. I never thought I would end up in a situation like that, losing and walking away from almost everyone I loved. Shit, just being back brought back all the feels—a deep-rooted feeling that tugged and pulled at my heartstrings, but got me nowhere at all.

It was July 18th. I would never forget that day. It was the day my dreams officially came true.

I had an interview at 12:30 PM the day before, and though my nerves were frazzled, my palms sweaty, I knew I had aced it. I went in prepared, with my head held high and my mind focused on only one thing—becoming a second grade teacher.

I got a call to come back in the next day. I figured they were going to reject me, but boy was I wrong.

"Congratulations, Ms. Knight—the kids will love that name by the way—we believe you have the patience and energy a second grade class will need for Bristle Wave Elementary." Mr. Lint, a man in his mid-fifties with a bald head, square glasses on the bridge of his nose, and a bright white smile that, surprisingly, didn't come off unsettling, held his hand out, and I hopped out of my chair, shaking it swiftly.

"Oh my goodness, thank you!" I tried hard not to bounce in my red wedges as he bobbed his head and then pulled away to pick up a manila envelope.

"Of course. We are glad to have you as a part of our staff." After informing me there would be papers I needed to sign and bring back before August, I was out of Bristle Wave Elementary with the widest grin on my face. I rushed to my Escalade and immediately whipped out my phone to call Sterling.

Yeah... Sterling Martinez.

We had become really close, especially after I apologized to him about the whole Mrs. Black thing. He forgave me. No doubt. No questions. No hesitation. At first, he was only a friend. He listened and understood and even gave me space when I told him all about my last night on Dirty Black with Theo. Unfortunately, he was still in Arizona, but he was going to transfer to Bristle High the next school year to continue his teaching career. We wanted to be closer now.