Tiffany Snow - Point of No Return

“I thought you were going to be good,” I managed to gasp.

“It will be,” he whispered. “Just spread your legs for me, baby.”

I couldn’t reply, forming words as far from my current ability to function as it was for me to perform cold fusion. Obediently, I opened my thighs to him, then I was lost in his touch, the taste of him as he kissed me, the feel of his body over mine. My fingers were buried in his hair, the long strands soft and damp.

He slid a finger inside me, then two, pumping them with slow, deliberate strokes while his thumb teased my clit. I moaned into his mouth as the blood in my veins pulsed in time to his fingers.

I had to tear my mouth from his so I could breathe, my panting gasps and moans filling my ears. Kade shoved my tank up, baring my breasts. His mouth fastened over a nipple and I cried out. My body was on fire, every sense focused utterly on what he was doing to me. His teeth tugged and his hand moved faster. A keening cry fell from my throat as stars exploded behind my eyes. I could feel my body convulsing, gripping his fingers as my orgasm washed over me. I pulled at his hair and his lips came back to mine. I sucked his tongue into my mouth, arching my back so my overly sensitive nipples grazed his chest.

Kade groaned, his fingers still buried inside me. It took a long moment before sanity returned. Kade’s mouth moved to my neck, nuzzling the tender skin beneath my ear.

My body felt boneless, the aftershocks still rippling through me. In the dark room with just us, nothing seemed more right than Kade’s and my bodies pressed together.

“That . . . that was . . .” I couldn’t come up with words that didn’t sound . . . inadequate. How to describe the way Kade made me feel? Not just sexually, but how happy I was when I was with him?

Kade’s breath was warm against my neck. He slowly withdrew his fingers, making me whimper. Though his fingers had been a fabulous substitute, I wanted him.

“This hasn’t exactly left you satisfied,” I said, my voice throatier than usual. I could feel his cock, still hard as a rock against my thigh. It had to be uncomfortable for him.

“Well, this wasn’t about me,” Kade said, stretching back onto his side next to me.

“What was it about?” I asked, tugging my shirt back down.

His smirk made my stomach flutter. “It was about reminding you of how good we are together,” he said.

Yes, sex with Kade was very, very good. And yet . . . “Is that all?”

His brows furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

I didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to push. I knew only too well how quickly Kade could run hot and cold. The last time I’d asked him to offer me something, he’d walked away. My heart sank.

I shook my head. “Forget it. Never mind.” I scooted out of his hold. “Listen, I’d better go. Let you get some sleep—”

Kade latched onto my arm, pulling me back. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. His eyes narrowed as he studied me.

“Nothing,” I insisted, avoiding his gaze as I tugged on my arm but was unable to break his grip. “It’s just late, that’s all.” Exhaustion was creeping over me. I’d made out with Blane just hours ago, then I’d just done . . . that . . . with Kade. I was turning into someone I despised.

“Bullshit.”

Tears stung my eyes. I had to get out of there. “Let me go?” I pleaded. Reluctantly, Kade released me. His expression was pained and I had to look away. “Get some rest, okay?” I babbled. “I’ll . . . uh . . . I’ll see you later.”

“Kathleen, wait—” Kade called, but I was out the door and hurrying down the empty hallway, my flip-flops echoing in the silence.

Tears were tracking down my cheeks as I hurried to my car. This was getting out of hand and I had no idea what to do. When I thought about losing Blane and Kade, the pain was nearly overwhelming. But when I considered the events of the past couple of days, how I was leading on both of the men I loved, I died a little inside.

Something had to break, before I did.

Bad dreams plagued me that night, with images of Kade lying on the ground and blood everywhere. It coated my hands and my clothes as I tried over and over to wake him. His sightless blue eyes stared at nothing as I screamed and screamed . . .

I came awake with a start, the tang of blood still in my nostrils, and launched myself to the bathroom. The seafood from the night before combined with a gut-wrenching nightmare apparently didn’t agree with me. So much for having a nice dinner, I thought, wiping my mouth before stepping into the shower.

When I got out and went into the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee, still wrapped in a towel, I saw I had a missed phone call on my cell.

Blane.

I dropped the phone back onto the counter as though it burned, turning away to pour my coffee. I couldn’t see Blane, not after last night. I had hardly been able to look myself in the mirror this morning, much less face him knowing I’d gone straight from his arms to Kade’s.

I pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top and decided I’d tackle cleaning my apartment. I didn’t have to go to work until four, so I had some time. It kept my mind off things, cleaning and scrubbing. The last thing I wanted to do was think. If I started thinking, then I’d have to come to terms with not only what I’d done last night—with Blane and Kade—but I’d have to face making the decision I didn’t want to make.

It was when I was scrubbing out the kitchen sink that I felt water touch my bare toes. Jumping back, I saw the reason for it all too clearly.

“Oh no,” I moaned, hurriedly shedding my rubber gloves and turning off the water. But it didn’t matter. The water kept oozing from the cupboard under the sink. I hurriedly pulled it open, watching in dismay as water sprayed from the pipes, coating everything. Another gush of water came out and soaked the floor. Now I was standing in water.

“Shit-shit-shit!” I ran to get towels from the bathroom, layering them on the floor and crouching on my hands and knees to get under the sink to turn off the water valve. The damn pipe sprayed water all over my face, hair, and chest until I was soaked. The stupid valve was stuck and refused to turn. I hauled everything out from under the sink and climbed in farther, using both hands now to try and turn the valve.

“Goddammit!” I yelled in frustration, backing out from under the sink. I raised my head too soon, though, and smacked it on the counter. I yelped in pain, tears springing to my eyes.

It was the last straw and I fell back on my butt in the middle of the watery floor and started bawling, my face buried on my wet knees. Not the most logical response, but the most I was emotionally capable of at the moment.

The noise of my front door opening had me lifting my head.

Blane had let himself in, his eyes wide with surprise as he took in the water spewing from under the sink and me, sitting in the middle of the floor, crying and looking like a drowned rat.

He seemed to collect himself pretty quickly, though, and grasped what was happening. Hurrying in, he said with a soft smile, “Plumbing problems?”

I sniffed and nodded, a hiccup escaping.

Discarding his jacket and tossing it onto a chair, he walked over to the sink.

“No! Wait! Blane, you’ll ruin your suit!” But it was too late or he didn’t care. Leaning under the sink, he turned the valve, shutting the water off in seconds.

“There,” he said, standing back up. “That’s better.”

I swiped a hand across my cheeks, but it was pointless trying to wipe away tears. I was soaked. My hair hung in a wet ponytail and my clothes were so sodden, they were dripping.