Chapter 100

Ardal

Kadeem pulls me onto his bed. The warmth of his skin against mine is like a blanket, cocooning us in our own little world. Every caress amplifies the sensation coursing through us until I'm almost overwhelmed with desire.

He enters me and our bodies move together in a passionate rhythm while gentle rain beats against the windows.

He grinds his hips harder against me, rattling the bed frame. The intensity builds and we're both lost in it - his soft moans in my ears, the rough feel of the stubble across his jaw when he kisses me, his soft locks in between my fingers, and the squeaking of the bed like a shamanic drum beat moving faster and faster. I close my eyes as the pleasure reaches crescendo, letting out a cry. Kadeem groans and begins to slow.

He lays next to me and closes his eyes, panting. The blankets are in a tangled heap and I'm still coming off from the high.

He takes my hand and we lay quietly for a few moments, trying to catch our breaths.

Finally, he squeezes my hand and breaks the silence. "Are we going to talk about the fact that you told me you love me?"

"No."

He laughs. "Well, at least you aren't recanting it."

I stare up at the ceiling. "Not yet, anyway."

"Ouch," he says. "Well, thanks for that."

I turn to lay my head on his chest and he puts his arm around me.

"Kadeem? What were you going to show me?"

He snorts, "Do you remember Mateo from school?"

"Hmm... the name is vaguely familiar."

"He was in my class," Kadeem says. "We were lab partners in chemistry my junior year."

"Oh God," I let out a giggle. " Okay, I remember your stories about him, but I never met him."

Kadeem strokes my hair. "Consider yourself fortunate. Okay... he has opened an, honest to God, hypnosis clinic off of Rosewood."

I sit up. "No!"

Immediately tickled, Kadeem and I both begin to cackle with laughter.

"I was driving by and saw it. I almost wrecked the car. There's a sign out with his picture and everything. It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen."

I put my head back on him and we laugh until our stomachs hurt.

Kadeem sighs, trying to catch his breath. "He just - he... So, if he was a movie, he would be American Pie. Imagine, going in so you can quit smoking, or whatever, and finding your hypnotist is the energy equivalent of Jason Bigman fucking a pie."

We dissolve into more giggles.

"Okay, you have to stop with that," I say finally. I prop my head up onto Kadeem's chest. "What's my movie?"

He pauses for a moment. "Bridget Jones."

"You were paying attention."

"I told you I liked it!" He ruffles my hair and slides up into a sitting position against his pillows.

"Is my energy the main character, or the movie, though?"

"Well, it's definitely Bridget's movie, isn't it? It's in her perspective."

I sit up next to him. "Does that make you Mark Darcy?"

Kadeem scoffs and pulls the sheet up for me. "Please."

I wrap the sheet around me and lay my head against his shoulder. "You're not near as naughty as Daniel Cleaver, though."

He studies me for a moment. "Would you want a Darcy?"

I put my finger to my chin. "Yes and no." I think Kadeem is maybe a mixture of both. "But that's not your movie," I say.

"What's my movie?"

"Mmm..." My mind flicks through all my favorites and it comes to me. "Ferris Bueller's Day Off."

He laughs. "Oh, thanks."

"That's a compliment! What did you want me to say?"

He makes a serious face. "I mean, I'd take Iron Man."

I roll my eyes and wait for his next quip, but he seems to get quiet.

"Deem?" I brush my hand along his jaw.

"So I think my dad and I are just done," he says.

I search his eyes. They're blank as he stares off at the bare wall opposite us.

"I'm just not what he wants me to be," he says. "And I'm done dealing with his constant disappointment. He ought to realize by now, he got what he wanted. Layla is his firstborn, and she lived out every American dream he had for her, plus all the werewolf shit. I can't compete and I don't want to. Let her be the alpha lawyer, let her run Pack X. I don't give a fuck."

I put my hand on Kadeem's thigh. "I think he's proud of you," I say. "He's just.."

"Controlling? Critical?"

I wrinkle my face, trying to find a positive spin. "Determined? Wanting you to have a good life."

"I don't know. Maybe. He's gotten worse since he and mom got divorced. His life got upended and now, every ounce of his anxious energy goes to making me perfect."

"Hopefully, he'll mellow out and at least return to his baseline," I say, with a small smile. "Your parents still love each other. I think they're going to be okay eventually - settle into a friendship, maybe."

Kadeem shakes his head. "He's crazy for my mom," he says. "He'd do anything for her, but change. That, he can't do. He has no clue how, or even a single clue about what she wants, I think - no matter how often she's tried to spell it out." His eyes find mine again. "But yeah, despite everything, it's still quite a love story."

I nod. "It's so sweet - two immigrant kids from very different backgrounds."

"Sweet and... painful, I think, in the Melting Pot. Take my uncle - Omar to Bob. He just changed his entire identity."

Kadeem's frown begins to upend into a smile. "You know what my mom's parents used to call me?"

I shake my head. "What?"

"Second baby."

I tilt my head quizzically. "Really?"

"In Mandarin it's, èr bǎo. Layla was always just 'Layla,' but I was 'èr bǎo.'" He laughs softly. "It's like they were trying to reclaim the Shanghai in me."

I lean my head back against the headboard. "Guess you've always had someone trying to shape you into something particular," I say softly.

Kadeem nods. "Very astute. Very therapist of you," he smiles. "But actually, I have a fondness for that. It never felt dismissive. Both my grandparents could be pretty silly and teasing." He smiles and shrugs. "The stuff with Dad is different, though." He sighs.

"Well, Er-bao-"

Kadeem chuckles and cocks his head to the side, propping it against his fist. "That sounds funny in your twang."

"I can’t help that," I grin. "Plus, you're pretty twangy, too." I flutter my eyelashes at him.

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Should we go for a round deux?"

I answer him by climbing into his lap and kissing his neck. His hands are already squeezing my breasts and I let out a moan.

But then he pauses. "Hey," he says quietly.

I lean up to face him. His cheeks are flushed with warmth and his eyes are searching.

"Did you really mean it? When you said you love me?"

I blush. "Of course I did."

He swallows, like he's pushing down his emotions and adopts a journalist's detached questioning. "Is that new?"

I shake my head and look down, my fingers starting to act on their own in the stirred desire, dragging them across his chest, brushing back his mop of black hair.

"That's old," I say.

"Oh yeah?" He's suddenly smirking.

I roll my eyes. "Yes. Ancient."

I press my mouth against his neck again, making my way up feverishly, to his jawline while he rakes his fingers through my hair. "If we're a movie," I add breathlessly, just as I find his lips, "We're 'Jurassic Park.'"

His chest heaves in laughter. "Ardal, there's so much wrong with that, I don't know where to begin."

We howl like idiots. He kisses me mid-giggle, unable to stop his own chuckling, but our muffled laughter quickly fades into rapturous silence when I shift a little in his lap and feel the heat of his arousal against me.

The next time our lips meet, it steals the breath right out of me. His strong arms wrap around my waist and lift me up before I sink down onto his length, taking him in all the way as he lets out a low moan.

My movements are slow and sensual, each circular slide pushing us closer to the cresting wave. I clasp both of his hands, our fingers laced together, pushing my weight into him. I start to move faster while he thrusts against me. His eyes close in rapture as he inhales sharply, before leaning up to whisper in my ear, "I love you, too."

It's the first time he's ever been able to say, "too."

I tilt my head to face him, my hair cascading down onto him like a curtain as I catch his eyes for a moment. The hint of a smile tugs at his lips before it's washed away by a cry of pleasure.