Thrive Read Online Free Page B

empty without his touch. Last night I wanted angry, to release my frustration without thinking, and I got it. I could think of nothing else with Curtis dominating every one of my senses. Today I wanted gentle, loving, healing. I felt raw, like every amount of pain I’d ever felt was on display for all to see. I wanted to be taken care of. I wanted to be told everything would be okay. I wanted to be told I was brave, that I could do this – whatever this was. I knew I wouldn’t get it from Curtis. He had me shut out, and I couldn’t see a way in. He was keeping me here out of duty, because he blamed himself; his own guilt told him he owed me answers. Answers he didn’t have.
    I didn’t want his pity. I didn’t want to be trapped on his guilt ride and treated like the little child who needed shielding from the truth. Screw that. I could fight my own battles, I didn’t need Curtis holding me captive, physically close, but emotionally shut off.
    Fuck that.
    I turned the water off and, once again, tried to detach myself from the situation; to shut off the feeling that I was lost, and alone and afraid. I rubbed myself dry as quickly as I could, pulled on the clothes Curtis set out for me and left the bathroom. He was still gone, out torturing himself no doubt, refusing to let in the one person who could understand his torment. I pulled on my shoes, refusing to care about how I looked, shoved my dress under my arm, located my watch under the bed and swung the hotel room door open.
    The hallway was quiet and lit only by the strip lights on the ceiling, the rest of the guests on the ground floor still sleeping. I tiptoed along the carpet towards the exit. Turning the corner, nearing the reception where I could make my escape, I collided with a wall of concrete. The chest of Curtis. I stumbled back and felt my cheeks flush because I’d been caught.
    “What are you doing?” he asked, and I looked up to see him carrying a cup holder and paper bag from Starbucks.
    “You left,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “So I left.”
    “I went to get you coffee and breakfast.” His voice was softer, his face still passive, but there was a renewed energy in his eyes.
    “Thanks, but I have to go.”
    “Skye, don’t start this again.”
    “Why?” I took a step away from him. “Because you can't fuck me into silence in a hallway?”
    “I’ll fuck you wherever the hell I want.”
    Another step back. “You can't speak to me like that.”
    He sighed. His fingers twitched against the bag and I felt a smile ghost the corner of my mouth – he wanted to tug on his hair and he couldn’t. He knew he’d crossed a line and I finally saw some emotion on his face. Worry. I wouldn’t tell him that my mouth said one thing, but inside, sparks flew.
    “Go back to the room.”
    “Fine.” I huffed, turning back in the direction I came from. “But only because I want coffee and food.”
    Curtis followed closely behind me; I could hear his heavy footsteps and feel the relief emanating from him.
    “Were you really going to run away dressed like that?” he asked, an easy humour in his voice. It relaxed me.
    “I don’t do humour until there’s coffee in my veins.”
    He chuckled quietly and we stopped at the door of his room. He cleared his throat which caught my attention and I turned to look at him. His eyebrows rose and an expectant look, glowing with playfulness, moved in.
    “What?”
    “Key.” A crooked smile flashed my way. He was sexy when he was playful. “Pocket.”
    I swallowed hard and squeezed my hands together before reaching for the cup holder. He raised both his hands above his head, our breakfast out of my reach.
    “It’s okay.” He winked. “The serpent is sleeping.”
    I snorted a laugh and shook my head, “I guess he’s worn out after last night.”
    I dropped my gaze, recognising a new, more desperate ache between my legs joining the reminder of last night.
    “He’s well trained,” Curtis said and