Redeemed (Dirty Air Series Book 4)

“I’ve been thinking about something…” I pass Santiago the wrench he asked for. Did I mention I love his car garage yet? No?

It would make grown men weep, it’s that beautiful. Hell, I’d consider shedding a tear or two for the Bumblebee-lookalike Camaro in the corner.

He rolls half his body out from underneath his latest fix-up. “That’s never a good idea.”

I push my foot against his rolling device, attempting to shove him back under the car.

He laughs at my effort. “I was joking. What have you been thinking about?”

“Well, you going back to racing for one thing.”

His penetrative gaze stays locked on mine. “What about it?”

“When are you planning on scheduling your test run?”

He rolls back underneath the car without answering me. The sounds of tools being used fills the silence, and a few bolts drop onto the cement floor.

“I scheduled it for next week.”

“What?” I crouch down, trying to see his eyes. “You’ve been holding out on me!”

“I booked it for a day you’re working.”

“Why would you do that?” A throb I’m unaccustomed to blooms inside of my chest. I thought he wanted me to go with him. Did he change his mind?

“It’s not because of you.” He rolls back out from underneath the car. With more agility than I expect from him, he stands up.

“Do you not want me to go anymore?” Somehow I hide the hurt in my voice.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

Right. A classic brush-off. For some reason, it feels a lot different being on the receiving end.

“Then what?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. I was afraid I’d chicken out and doing so would be a hell of a lot easier without you there.”

“Because I wouldn’t hold you accountable.”

He shakes his head, stepping back into my personal bubble. “Because making you unhappy is the last thing I want.”

He reaches out for my cheek. The roughness of his palm brushes against my skin, and everything inside of me aches for more. “I want to make you proud of me.”

“Of course I’m proud of you. What roommate wouldn’t be? You kicked my ass in Mario Kart earlier and completed a bunch of simulation laps.” I jokingly shove his shoulder, but it comes off forced. My eyes flutter shut as his thumb trails across my lips.

“Roommates, huh?”

“The bestest. Like the show Friends.”

“The one where they all get together? I couldn’t have picked a better choice myself.”

My eyes snap open. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You attempt with everything in you to resist us.” He runs a finger across my clavicle, eliciting a shiver from me.

“I try hard to show you that certain things are more important than sex.”

“That exists?”

This time I shove his shoulder harder. He budges an inch before standing his ground.

“You’re hilarious. Really.” Sarcasm weighs my words down. “And stop changing the subject.”

“Then stop avoiding the one that matters. I’m changing, and if you haven’t realized that, then you’re not looking hard enough.”

He’s right. It’s obvious that he is changing, little by little. Between his daily trainings in the simulation lab to his discussions on the phone with Noah, he really is attempting to get back out there. He even bought a second F1 simulator set so we could play Mario Kart together every day after I come home from work. Can I withhold what we both want when he is trying to be different?

I don’t bother with a rebuttal once his lips touch mine. Whatever kiss I had on replay in my head from the elevator doesn’t do the real deal justice. It’s like comparing a single flame to a blowtorch.

His lips dominate, stealing away my thoughts. He traces the seam of my lips with his tongue, begging for entrance. I wrap my arms around his neck and let him take control. I can’t help it. Kissing him is like eating dessert before dinner. I know it’s bad for me, and it’ll spoil my appetite for everything afterward, but I can’t help wanting to do something forbidden.

His hands palm my ass before he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, holding on with dear life as he places me on the hood of his car. My hands search for any kind of purchase.

His lips never leave my body. My neck, my lips, the soft spot right behind my ear all fall victim to his touch. I ache, my lower half throbbing with need.

Nothing can stop him from his relentless torture. He fists the bottom of my shirt and tugs it off my body. His greedy hands explore every inch of my skin while his lips trail their way down my neck. “Tell me not to stop.”

Is he crazy? My neck pulses rapidly, each breath becoming a chore.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper, my voice hoarse and desperate.

He pushes my body down against the hood of the car. Metal bends beneath our weight, but I can’t find it in me to care. I can’t find it in me to do anything but feel.

He leans down and presses his erection against my center.

My fingers dig into his shoulders as I moan. “If you’re going any further, then you better have a condom on your person.”

He abandons me for the rolling cart, finding his wallet in the mess of tools. I practically weep at the foil package in his hands.

“Been saving that for when you get lucky?” I smirk.

“I’ve been lucky ever since you stumbled into my life. This is an added bonus.” He smiles. It’s devilish, with a hint of something else in his eyes.

Oh my God. He did not just say that. My pulse quickens as he makes quick work of his sweatpants.

Everything seems promising until he freezes, his pants halfway down his legs. His body tenses as he exhales a deep breath.

That can’t be good. I want to stop him before his brain gets going.

“Hey.” I snap my fingers as I prop myself up on the hood of the car.

His eyes snap in my direction. He remains stoic, his face unreadable.

“Santiago, if you don’t fuck me, I’ll kill you. Leg be damned.”

His forehead scrunches as he contemplates whatever demons threaten to take control of him. He clutches onto the condom with a death-grip. The foil crinkles under the added pressure, but he doesn’t move an inch toward me.

Our moment is lost to whatever thought took over his lust. I release a tense breath as I scoot down the hood of the car. Making quick work of finding my clothes, I grab my shirt off the floor and throw it over my head.

I move toward him, helping lift the band of his sweatpants to cover himself. “It’s okay. You’re not ready yet.”

His shoulders tense. He evades my gaze, his shoulders rising with each agitated breath he takes. “How can you say it’s okay? How can you even want to be with me in the first place? I’m damag—”

I cut him off. “Because you’re worth waiting for. Whether it’s today, or weeks, or even months from now. This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

He shakes his head, turning away from me. He throws the condom on the cart and exits the garage without looking back.

I want to run after him. To stop him and explain how I see him. But something stops me.

I’m afraid. I’ve spent my entire life being rejected time and time again, and I don’t know if I have it in me to go through it once more.

Darker thoughts threaten to take over, but I shove them away.

No. This isn’t about me. This is about him battling the darkest part of himself and accepting who he is—leg or no leg.

I try my hardest to stay up for Santiago. The living room seems less warm without him, and no show can keep my attention. My efforts fail, and I give into the sleep begging to take hold.

Something jostles me awake. The thud of Santiago’s iWalk pulls me from my sleep.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“Shh.”

I snuggle into his chest, breathing in the fresh scent of fabric softener.

“I weigh a lot.” And what about the extra pressure on his leg? I couldn’t bear the idea of causing him more pain.

He scoffs. “I could bench-press you on my worst day.”

“Stop being so damn cocky. It’s unattractive.” I squeeze his bicep for good measure before yawning.

“Go back to sleep.” The door to my room creaks open.

“I was sleeping until I was rudely interrupted.”

“You talk way too much for someone who was sleeping as of three minutes ago.”

Another yawn stops my reply. Santiago throws the comforter to the side and places me down in my bed. He tucks me back in, dragging the cover up to my chin.

He turns toward the door, but I call out his name.

“Will you stay?”

The moonlight seeping into my room highlights the bulging muscles of his back. “Why?”

“Because I want you here.”

“Chloe, listen—”

“Don’t give me the brush-off in my own bedroom. That’s awful.”

He grunts. “Don’t force me to.”

“I’m not asking for sex. I swear. I just want you here.” Because I miss you when you’re gone. 

“No sex?”

“None. I’ll be a saint. I promise.” I offer him the sign of the cross, purposefully doing it wrong.

He corrects me like usual, a small smile gracing his lips. His hand brushes a loose strand of my hair away from my eyes. “You’re hard to say no to.”

“Then don’t bother trying.” I snuggle into my sheets.

It’s obvious that I won this round and he knows it. His iWalk thumps against the floor as he rounds the side of the bed. I smile at the rustling of my sheets on his end.

He goes through the motions of his routine, and I keep my eyes shut. The temperature in the room heats up as he settles beside me.

I take a peek in his direction. His body remains rigid as he stares up at the ceiling, his arms crossed over his chest. That will absolutely not do.

I roll over, throwing my leg over his without thinking. Every muscle in his body locks up as my thigh grazes his stump.

Shit, Chloe! “Oh, God. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking and—”

His arms remain plastered against his chest, unmoving as if he was carved of stone. “It’s fine.”

“But I just touched you and—” I attempt to move back to my side of the bed.

Santiago’s hand stops me. He throws his palm across my thigh, securing me to his body. “Chloe. I mean it. It’s fine.”

“Like fine fine, or the fine your sister taught you.”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Fine fine.”

I snuggle into him, finding the perfect spot between his shoulder and neck to lay my head down on. My palm has a mind of its own, pressing against the cotton of his shirt.

I let out a sigh, finally content after a rough day.

“Chloe,” Santiago calls out.

“Mmm.” I fight to stay awake, but my body wants to drift back to that blissful resting place.

“Thank you for not running away, even when I give you every reason to,” he whispers. His words hang around us, filling me with a warmth I didn’t expect.

I run my palm across his chest in a soothing motion. “I’m not going to run away because you don’t feel comfortable enough to have sex with me. That’s stupid and such a double standard.”

“How so?”

“Because, if I felt similarly, I’d make you wait on purpose.”

“Why’s that?” Humor seeps into his voice.

“Because no man is worth my time if he isn’t willing to battle my demons with me.”

Santiago’s hand tightens around my thigh. His other hand snakes around me, tugging me closer to his body. “I’d slay them all for you.”

“Tickle dragons and all? Because those are some sly bastards.”

He chuckles before placing a kiss against my forehead. “I really like you.”

“If you like me, then promise me one thing.”

The blades of the ceiling fan swoosh through the air, filling the silence.

He answers after what feels like hours. “What kind of promise?”

“Don’t run away again. When things get hard, stick it out with me. I can’t help you fight whatever holds you back if you retreat at the first sign of trouble.”

“I will, but only if you promise the same.”

“Deal.”

We both fall into a comfortable quiet. Consciousness escapes me as I slip into a content sleep with Santiago by my side.