Redeemed (Dirty Air Series Book 4)
Redeemed: Chapter 29

Chloe’s heels click against the tiled floor as we enter the hotel elevator. I press the button for the penthouse, and the car groans as it rises.

Chloe looms in the corner of the car, staring up at the ceiling. I scan her body, struggling to choose between focusing on her face, her tits, or her ass. The dress looks incredible on her, and I’m tempted to buy one in every color.

The air thickens around us, heavy with tension as her eyes focus on me. All of me.

I stand taller, enjoying the way her eyes darken as they run across my body.

Chloe blushes and looks away when her eyes meet mine. She whistles, and I laugh.

I eat up the distance between us. “Are you nervous?”

“Honestly?”

I nod my head.

“Yeah, the way you’re looking at me scares me.” She swallows and darts her eyes toward the old-school dial above the elevator door indicating we are only on floor ten out of thirty.

I brush my knuckles across her cheekbone. “Why?”

“Because whatever you’re thinking about can’t be good.”

“But it can sure be fun.”

I can’t wait to get her into our suite because I plan on collecting my win from the race with Noah. Her cheeks flush after I press a soft kiss against her mouth. She sucks in a breath, and I grin.

A loud, screeching sound grates against my ears. I wrap my arms around Chloe as the elevator drops. My stomach matches the sudden descent of the car. The elevator shakes as it falls, the screeching noise reminding me of nails on a chalkboard. Chloe’s scream makes my ears ring in protest.

The car stops with a yank, as if it was tugged taught by a cord. I stumble but catch us before we fall over.

Chloe clutches onto me as the elevator makes one last grinding sound. “Oh my God.” She presses her head into my chest.

Lights flicker before going out. We both breathe heavy, the sounds of our inhales and exhales matching one another. Pitch darkness surrounds us. I lay my chin on top of Chloe’s head, regulating my breathing.

“Did we almost die?” she rasps.

“No. Of course not. Elevators have safety mechanisms for situations like this. Especially in old buildings like this.” I don’t have the first clue about elevator mechanics, but something about her voice tells me to pretend it’s all okay.

The speaker box crackles to life as someone speaks Italian to us. I release Chloe and walk up to the electrical panel.

“Aiuto.” It’s one of the few words I can muster up as I press the call button.

The person rattles on, saying things I don’t understand. The voice disappears as they say something I assume is along the lines of help is coming. I check my phone for service, but the lack of bars makes me curse.

“How long do you think we will be stuck in here?” Chloe’s voice doesn’t carry its usual assuredness. It sounds small and weak, which concerns me.

“I don’t know. Could be an hour or more probably? It depends on if we are stuck between floors.”

“I can’t decide if I feel like throwing up or crying.” The tapping of her heel against the floor gives away her agitation.

I’m not sure if the rush of adrenaline or gratitude for being okay has me laughing up to the roof of the small car. “While I’d hate for you to cry, please don’t throw up in here. That would make a bad situation way worse.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“It’s a little funny.”

“How? We almost died!”

I walk up to her and press my body into hers, trapping her in a corner. My hand has a mind of its own, wrapping strands of Chloe’s hair around my fingers. “But we didn’t.”

“That’s so not reassuring.” Her voice wavers. “Is now the time to reveal to you how I don’t like tight, dark spaces?”

“Shit. Are you claustrophobic?”

“Umm.”

Fuck. Her breathing quickens. I pluck my phone out of my pocket and use the flashlight. She winces at the sudden brightness. I bend over and place the phone on the floor, illuminating the space enough to make out her shadow.

“Is that better?”

“A little bit.” Her voice hits a new high pitch.

Okay, so not better. Think, Santiago.

Everything clicks into place. I use the handle behind Chloe to kneel. The movement is anything but steady and fluid, but the limited lighting conceals my struggle.

Chloe’s hand freezes on my shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Well seeing as how I can barely see in the first place… Did you drop something?”

Her reaction has me chuckling. “No.”

“Then why are you kneeling on the floor?”

“Take a guess.”

“Now’s not the time for games.” Her voice cracks. It’s obvious she’s about to flip out at any second.

“Why would I play when I already won?” I run my fingers down her dress before lifting the hem.

“Oh, God.” Chloe’s panicky voice morphs into breathless pants.

“Not even He can save you from me.” I press a kiss against her silk-covered center. The material blocks me, but Chloe gets my message.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.”

I chuckle under my breath. “Jump onto the handlebar and hold on to the hem of your dress.”

“What about the magic word?”

“Orgasm?”

She laughs up to the ceiling. “No.”

“Cock.”

“Please.”

“I knew you could beg if you really put your mind to it.” I trace a finger across the damp material covering the place I desperately want to taste.

“Bastard.”

“I prefer bastard who’s about to make you come, but we’ll get you there eventually.”

Chloe’s body trembles as I press my thumb against her clit. She follows my command, spreading her legs in front of me.

The shadows give me little ability to memorize how she looks, and I hate it. But what I do know is she’s perfect. So fucking perfect, I’m beside myself with excitement. It’s been a long time since I’ve had any kind of connection with someone like this. I soak it up, enjoying it for exactly what it is. Human connection. Something so fundamental I’ve denied myself for years.

I trace my fingers up her legs with the lightest touch. It’s faint, enough to tell her I’m here. To make sure she knows I’m the one in control of the situation. Her skin pebbles as my fingers clutch onto her underwear. I tug the satin strip of fabric down and tuck it into my pocket.

My confidence grows at her enthusiasm. God, my mouth practically waters at the sight of her spread in front of me. The flashlight from my phone reveals the faintest smile on her lips. I latch onto that image of her, burning it into my memory as my lips descend on her. I leave behind kisses on her inner thigh before I trace her seam with my tongue.

The moan she lets out has my dick throbbing in my pants. I become addicted to every groan and breathless sigh she releases as I pleasure her. It’s the best feeling, bringing her to life in the same way she does to me. I’m a lost man, replaceing bits and pieces of myself again with Chloe’s help.

She goes wild as I suck on her clit. My little hellion, unrestrained and needy, begging for my cock with her whimpers. I sink a finger into her, and she clutches onto my hair with a sigh. If I thought I was addicted to Chloe before, I’m a goner now. Don’t bother signing me up for rehab.

Touching her is a dream, with her being incredibly responsive to anything I do. Heat trickles down my spine as she takes my next two fingers without protest.

Getting Chloe off is my next favorite thing, right up there with making her laugh. I torture her, bringing her to the edge of pleasure before retreating again.

Her fingers clutch onto my hair, tugging at the root. “If you don’t make me come, I swear to God when I return the favor, you’ll be begging for way longer than me.”

I smile, increasing the tempo of my fingers pumping into her. I suck on her clit and use my tongue to my advantage.

Her moan echoes off the walls as she comes apart above me. I don’t stop until her body quits shaking and her fingers release my hair from her death grip.

Her head hits the wall behind her with a thump. “It’s official. I discovered the cure to claustrophobia.”

“Orgasms?”

She giggles. Her distraction cloaks my struggle as I lift myself up from the ground with the help of the handlebar. I wince at the pressure on my leg, a hiss escaping my mouth before I can catch myself.

Chloe grabs onto my hand. “Are you okay?”

There’s nothing I want more than for Chloe to forget that I’m different. I don’t need to be coddled because she thinks I shouldn’t do what a normal man can. Fuck that. Fuck it all to hell and back because I’m over that shit around her. I’m all man. No injury or metal leg can stop me from proving that to her.

I ignore her question, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her toward me. My lips press against hers. Our kiss is charged. Crazed. Needy. Like every cell in my body is on a mission to fire off at the same time.

She wraps her arms around my neck and pushes her body into mine. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I grind my erection into her.

She runs her hand down my chest and lands on the band of my trousers. I drop my head in the crook of her neck and groan as she nears the place begging for her attention. And I mean begging. I consider the pre-cum leaking from my tip as tears of joy. It’s been too long since I’ve enjoyed this genuine kind of contact—one full of desperation and lust. I’d beg on my knees for her touch if it didn’t make me look like some kind of freak.

I freeze as the image of Chloe being eye level with my prosthetic leg harasses my brain. The thought kills my lust-crazed buzz. I clutch onto her hand and return it back around my neck.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” I move to kiss her again, but she pulls back.

“Stop me.”

“Because that’s not the point of tonight.” I turn her face back toward mine.

“Cut the bullshit. Any warm-blooded male would let me go through with what I want to do.” Darkness cloaks her face in shadows, giving me nothing to go on besides her irritated voice.

“Let’s not talk about other males while my lips still taste like you.”

She growls and pushes my chest. I step away, and she slides off the handlebar.

Her heels click against the floor as she traps me in a corner of the elevator. “You’re afraid.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh that grates my ears. “What? That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it because you have a small dick after all, and you’re worried I’ll call you out on it?”

“You’re the one who is actually certifiable. It’s a shame I’m realizing this now.” Who am I kidding? I’m into the hurricane of craziness that is Chloe Carter. I want to get lost in her storm and never come out.

“Sir, if you didn’t realize I was crazy after I broke into your house, then you set yourself up for that kind of disappointment.”

Her comment makes me snort in the most unflattering way.

She smooths the lapel of my tux, distracting me with the warmth of her palm. Her other hand palms my dick again.

I shudder, unable to control my body’s response to her touch. “I told you tonight isn’t about me.”

“Please?”

Fuck. The way she whispers the word has my dick throbbing beneath her hand. Only this girl would ask for the opportunity to suck my cock. Any rational thought leaves my head as her palm moves up and down my length.

I press my hand against hers, halting the motion. “One condition.”

“What is it?” Her voice hints at her excitement, and the sound sends another rush of heat through my chest.

“The lights have to be off.”

She abandons my erection and fumbles for my phone, shutting off the flashlight in no time.

Darkness hides everything I’m desperate to keep from Chloe in an intimate moment. Nothing says mood killer quite like an up-close view of my stump.

I’m just…not ready for that yet. If I could hide in the shadows during sex for the rest of my life, I would.

Chloe presses a soft kiss against my lips, gaining my attention. “I’m granting your one request because I crave this more than I want to push your boundaries. Don’t count yourself free of your fears yet,” she whispers, her voice carrying a rasp I replace beyond sexy.

I lean against the wall, wishing I could see her on her knees in front of me. Instead of allowing myself the real deal, I imagine it like a vivid dream in my head.

Her hands fumble with my trousers. The desperation in her touch has me groaning up to the ceiling.

She releases my dick from my boxer briefs and rubs her thumb across the tip, collecting my arousal.

I clutch onto the handlebar as her tongue replaces her thumb, flicking across my tip. “Shit.”

Chloe teases before the warmth of her mouth surrounds my cock. She works me into submission, switching between sucking me off and running her tongue along my shaft. It’s the best kind of torture. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt anything quite as amazing as her mouth on me.

Whatever noises escape my mouth encourage her, and her movements grow sloppier. My breath comes out in pants. A sudden surge of energy shoots down my spine as my world spins.

Chloe doesn’t heed my warning when I tell her I’m about to come. A fire spreads through my veins as I erupt. She swallows my release, not breaking away until I stop shuddering.

God. I thought I liked her, but now I’m not sure what to make of the feelings swirling in my chest. It’s nothing like I’ve ever experienced before, and I can’t exactly dissect them. It seems like more. Chloe tucks my dick back into my briefs and helps button my trousers.

She rises without my help, and I tug her into a kiss. It’s soft, with our lips faintly touching. But somehow, it seems like way more than a simple peck. It feels like she just destroyed the world I created for myself, and I’m not sure what to do about it. How can I ever go back to the person I was before Chloe entered the picture? And most of all, I don’t think I want to.

“Thank you,” my voice rasps. Thank you? What the actual hell. Good God, she sucked your dick, man. You’re acting like she treated you to coffee.

Chloe laughs in a way that has the anxiety melting off my body. “You’re welcome.” She pats my chest.

“I can’t wait to get out of this damn elevator and fuck you tonight.”

She freezes in my arms. “No.” Her voice is faint enough for me to misunderstand her meaning.

“Huh?”

“No.” She speaks with more strength the second time around. Warmth seeps away as she steps out of my arms, adding to the distance between us.

“Why not?”

“I can’t have sex with you.”

“Then what do you call the thing we just did?”

“Something amazing.”

I’m absolutely baffled. She has my mind spinning.

She continues. “It was incredible—for me at least. But I don’t want to have sex until you’re ready to reveal yourself to me. And I mean all of you.”

My heart rate escalates. “Why?” Reality crashes back down around me.

“Because sex isn’t something I’m ashamed about, but it’s clear you don’t feel the same way about yourself.”

“This is who I am. Take it or leave it.” I grind my molars.

“That’s the thing. I do see who you are, and I want to take it. The real question is if you really are ready for something like that.”

Chloe has caught me in her spell. But I don’t know how I can go about accepting the version of myself she sees.

Silence surrounds us, accompanied by the shadows. We both sit on opposite sides of the car, our legs grazing one another. My skin itches as the emotional gap between us widens.

I don’t want that. Not in the slightest.

“Chloe?”

“Mmm.”

“Why are you afraid of small spaces?”

If we were outside, I imagine crickets would fill the silence. She says nothing, and I consider dropping it.

“When I was little, my mom used to lock me inside of my bedroom when her visitors came over.”

What the actual fuck?

She prattles on, not realizing my disgust. “My room wasn’t big since we were poor. Honestly, it was more of a closet than a room in the first place.” She laughs, but it comes off insincere. “But it was a safe place if my mom had whatever boyfriend of the time over, getting high and doing other things. Even as a young kid I knew what was going on because kids at school would talk. Turns out she didn’t have the best reputation. So, anyway, my mom didn’t want me to get in the way, so she would lock me inside my room until she was done.”

Heat bubbles inside of me, building beneath the surface of my skin. “You don’t have to keep going. I get it.”

“No, it’s fine.”

It isn’t, but I don’t bother arguing with her. I doubt this is easy to share.

“The thing is my mom is forgetful, especially if she was high when she locked me in my room.” Her voice cracks, and something in my chest tightens at the sound. “That’s why I hate small spaces. It’s like I’m taken back to those years, and there’s some automatic response in my body that protests to get out.”

I drag my body across the floor to get to her side. She accepts me wrapping my arm around her and pulling her into my side. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

I want to say more, but the words don’t come easy. And I don’t want to scare her by revealing how much I’m like her.

“It’s all right. There’s no reason to get upset. It’s in the past.”

“Is it? How can anyone move past that?”

“Because then I’d lose sight of what’s important.”

By this point, I’m sure Chloe can hear my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

“And what’s that?”

“Life is about creating the memories that matter, while forgetting the ones that don’t.”

I want to create new memories. With my family, with racing, and maybe even with Chloe.

I can’t change the fact that I lost my leg. But I wonder if I truly have been looking at my life all wrong since the accident. Maybe Chloe is right, and I can’t jump into something serious with her if I can’t accept myself first.

I want to see what she sees in me. I’ve lived the past three years in a world of black and white. Depression and isolation ate away at the man I was, creating someone I don’t recognize. So, yes, I want to experience the world through Chloe’s eyes because it’s like seeing color for the first time. It’s breathtaking and spectacular, fundamentally shifting life as I know it.

She’s my kaleidoscope in a world of gray.