Overdose: A British Bad Boy Romance

by Raven St. Pierre

  When the pair first met, every physical encounter was raw, unbridled. There’d been no room for emotion or a deep connection—a careful, tactical maneuver set in motion by both parties. However, now… Vanessa was beginning to wonder if either had been as careful as they intended to be. More than once, she doubted they were.

  Her eyes drifted open when a forceful hand dragged down her leg. Zander followed the caresses with a trail of kisses leading down, toward the sash at her ankle. For a moment, she thought he might set her free, but that thought was dashed the next second when the silky material was left in place. Instead, her toes were met with warm moisture from Zander’s mouth as he drew them between his lips, one at a time, just slowly enough to drive her crazy. His tongue ran over them, between them, and her head spun at the feel of it. It wasn’t as if she’d never experienced this with others, but… he just had a way of making everything feel new, like something she’d never done before.

  Her foot was lowered back to the mattress and she watched as Zander stood from the bed, going to the sash around her ankle again. However, this time, he tugged it loose before going to the others and doing the same.

  It’d been Zander’s intention to leave her bound from beginning to end, but, honestly? He craved her touch, the way a single brush of her hand could stir within him. If he was going to have her, he wanted all of her. The entire experience.

  The sashes at Vanessa’s wrists had become a little tight, so she worked them a bit now that she’d been set free, letting the feeling come back to her fingers. Zander came close again, settling with his knees between her parted thighs. She kept her eyes trained on his lips—plump, a deeper shade of red than usual as the sexual tension between them soared to astronomical heights. With her stare locked on him, Zander eased a finger inside her channel, as if to gauge how ready she was. Needless to say, he was pleased to discover his handiwork had quite the effect, making him all too eager to get a condom on.

  He inched further up Vanessa’s body until he covered her completely. Staring down on her, his heart thundered inside his chest. She’d made him feel so many things—anger, frustration, lust, intimidation, happiness, excitement. Quite frankly, it scared the hell out of him she could make him feel anything, good or bad, but this wild beating was brought on by more than mere excitement.

  …and he hated it.

  But there was no escaping it.

  Not anymore.

  Wet heat engulfed his cock when he entered her rough, fighting the inclination to be gentle. That wasn’t his way; wasn’t in his nature even if being with her sometimes blurred the lines. No one had managed to change him thus far and he refused to let anyone get inside his head after all these years.

  Beneath him, he felt Vanessa’s legs quake as his hips crashed against her inner-thighs, slamming into them with relentless force like waves meeting the shore after a storm.

  She took it all—the punishment he inflicted on her for making him feel. With little more than the occasional groan or whimper, Vanessa absorbed every blow Zander hurled at her using his body as a weapon. While he meant to build the wall between them higher, thicker, the sound of her getting wetter for him, the sound of her enjoying his harsh strokes, broke him down even more. His frustration only mounted—frustration with himself for not being able to look at her without feeling weak, frustration for not being able to think of her as just another woman.

  In a fit of passion, Vanessa’s hand aimlessly wandered to the side of Zander’s face. Dainty fingers grazed the corner of his mouth before slipping to his cheek. His lips instinctively chased their softness, seeking until he found her thumb and kissed the side of it.

  Right after, he had a fleeting sense of regret for having untied her.

  ‘There’s that damn weakness again,’ he thought to himself, feeling disgusted with how she kept getting to him. He turned away immediately after, snatching Vanessa’s hand from his face as he did all he could not to care if she sensed he was angry.

  He only pushed inside her a few more times before realizing he couldn’t even look her in the eyes anymore. Too much happened when he did. Too much he couldn’t explain. Instead, he pulled out abruptly and turned her over on all fours. There was a bit of violence in the motion, but she didn’t protest. Not even a little. In fact, he thought he detected a hint of a smile.

  The soft sheet met Vanessa’s cheek when she rested on it, pushing her hips into the air. She was sweating bullets and, as soon as she managed to catch her breath, Zander entered her from behind. Her cries were muffled by the mattress, but only until long fingers knotted in her hair, pulling her head back so she could no longer quiet the pain in her voice. He went deeper. Toned hips pounded her over and over again and she loved it—the pain that bordered on unbearable. The more she gave in to him, the more she realized she liked letting him be in control.

  Despite his resolve to be cruel, to be callous, Zander tenderly stroked Vanessa’s back. And, damn him, it was his undoing when she reached for him, too, encircling her fingers around his wrist much like she’d done their first time. In that touch, he felt her need for him.

  Then.

  Now.

  His cock swelled more inside her and her walls tightened as she neared orgasm. She panted, barely aware as his name slipped from her lips. At the sound of her calling out for him, Zander’s dick pulsed, in synch with his beating heart as the first jut of cum emptied from his body, followed by several more of equal intensity. His eyes slammed shut and he reveled in those last few seconds as he rode the high.

  Vanessa rolled over onto her side, succumbing to the wooziness brought on by the heat and physical exhaustion. The sheets were rumpled and coming off two corners of the mattress. Her hair was drenched with sweat and there was already a deep throb between her legs, one she was sure she’d feel even stronger as the night went on.

  Her eyes flitted around the room, pausing on the black sashes still tied around the bedposts before settling her gaze on Zander. He rested on his shins, staring right back at her as he caught his breath. Despite their vacancy, she saw so many questions behind those eyes of his, but she wasn’t sure if any of his rivaled the ones currently floating around inside her own head.

  Something changed between them. She felt it more tonight than any other. If she had to guess, being as perceptive as he was, Zander felt it, too.

  As if suddenly aware of the mental tug-of-war going on inside Vanessa’s head, Zander’s hand came down on her hip. It was gentle, but she sensed something else. Something she hadn’t sensed on him before—uncertainty.

  Without a word, his hand slipped from her skin and she watched as he left the bed to slink off toward the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

  What the hell just happened?

  Rough sex followed by extreme dismissiveness. It took everything in her not to analyze Zander’s behavior, but she was so used to looking beyond surface-level actions and into the deeper issue, there was no stopping her train of thought once it left the station.

  He was fighting something, having trouble accepting something. What that something was, she couldn’t say for sure, but she did have her own developing thoughts and feelings to go on. If Zander was also feeling their deepening connection, this was the reaction she’d expect from him. For a moment, before this, she’d almost forgotten about his condition; had almost allowed herself to forget the many reasons she had no business being here with him.

  When she didn’t hear water, or even movement, in the bathroom she imagined Zander on the other side of that door battling whatever emotions might have surfaced from his past as a result of the ones surfacing between them. She hadn’t taken the time to tag the experience with a name, but it was powerful.

  And most of all… it was unwelcomed.

  Sighing, Vanessa stared at the ceiling, doing the same song and dance she’d done since early on in her dealings with Zander—she waltzed with doubt, tangoed with bad choice after bad choice.

  It was far too late for the saf
e-word to be effective, but she wished it wasn’t. It was too late to back off; too late to decide not to join him here; too late to choose not to get deeper involved.

  Realizing she was in this about as deep as she could get, the safe-word ‘unicorns’ slipped from her lips as she covered her head with a pillow.

  All there was left to do was hope she didn’t regret this even more later, asking herself one question:

  ‘Why couldn’t they just stay away from each other?’

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was the sound of a suitcase being unzipped that snapped Zander from the daze as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom’s mirror. He’d lost himself out there—lost himself with her—and now a strange feeling lingered in the pit of his stomach. He equated it to a scene from a movie he’d caught bits and pieces of as a child, The Wizard of Oz.

  The only way he could describe his current state was to relate it to how The Wizard must have felt when someone pulled back the curtain. The way he must’ve felt when everyone realized he was nothing more than smoke and mirrors. An illusion. Beneath it all, Zander saw himself as nothing more than a master manipulator, one who made an art of charming others into doing his bidding, one who thrived on making others think there was more to him than what met the eye.

  But that was a lie. As far as he could tell, all there was behind the curtain was a coward—that’s what he felt like.

  Angry feet stomped around his bedroom and he knew there was little point in trying to talk Vanessa out of leaving, but he had to try. After all, his cover was blown anyway. Out there, in his bed, despite the spectacle he’d made of trying to prove he felt nothing for her, he was sure she knew better than that. Her intelligence was by far her most appealing quality in his eyes, so he was positive she figured him out.

  So, because he now had very little left to hide… he made the decision to do whatever it took to keep her there.

  “Vanessa… please… don’t go.”

  The words flew from his mouth the moment he opened the door and found her haphazardly stuffing her belongings inside her luggage. She’d donned the white robe again and her face was hidden as she stood at the foot of his bed. With her back to him, he couldn’t gauge her expression, but she paused for a moment when he took a step closer.

  Oh, how he wished he could read her thoughts right now; wished he knew if there was even a point in pleading. But he didn’t. He was making himself vulnerable on blind faith, hoping she heard the sincerity in his tone.

  His actions gave her no reason to stay, walking away without a word when they finished. In the very least, he knew she must’ve felt used. In the past, he had several encounters that ended wordlessly. At times, his only goodbye came in the form of his female companion staring at the back of his head as he left them behind. But he didn’t want that with her. He didn’t want her to question whether she was significant, whether she meant something to him because… dammit… she did.

  When he placed his hand on her shoulder, she stayed still. So he touched the other as well. This was all new to him. For the first time in his life, he felt awkward and nervous with a woman. Vanessa had somehow taken him back to a phase he bypassed altogether; one where teenage boys fumbled their way through matters of the heart. That’s what this was. A matter of the heart—not just sex anymore.

  “Please… if you’ll stay… I believe it’s time we talk about some things,” Zander added when Vanessa failed to respond to his first plea.

  There were so many things she didn’t know, so many things that would give her a better understanding of what made him… him… but therein lie the reason he hadn’t opened up before now. He enjoyed being closed off. He’d learned a long time ago that not having others around made it very difficult for them to hurt you. Hence the reason he opened his bed to so many, but his heart to so few.

  He watched and damn-near held his breath waiting for Vanessa to respond.

  Would she make him beg? Would she think less of him for being willing to do so if that’s what it took?

  A breath of relief slipped from his lips when Vanessa’s bag was resealed and placed aside on the floor. Dark eyes found his and she didn’t even seem to notice his nudity as she stared. He didn’t shy away from her gaze now, not like he had before. It wasn’t that he no longer feared what those eyes did to him, rather he’d simply accepted his fate was already sealed.

  “You wanted to talk, so let’s talk,” Vanessa said, finally breaking her silence. There was hurt buried beneath the words, although she’d tried to mask it with a stone-cold façade.

  Zander knew he deserved the harshness, so he didn’t even react to it.

  He took a folded, white robe that matched Vanessa’s from the top of the dresser and put it on. Then, he made a bold move; he reached for her hand. Under the circumstances, with her visibly angry, she could’ve easily pulled away, but Zander braved it anyway. Luckily, she didn’t object.

  Without explanation, he led her to the lounger near the dying fire. Even before now, he had every intention to chat with her late into the night, but he imagined it playing out differently. In his mind, the mood would’ve been lighter, the upcoming conversation would’ve been lighter, he… would’ve felt lighter.

  Yes, there was certainly a sense of heaviness.

  Vanessa’s eyes wandered around the room, to the bed they made a mess of in the not-so-distant past. Only a moment ago, she was prepared to walk out on Zander, on this weekend, but somehow he convinced her not to.

  And he accomplished this with so few words she almost felt pathetic, weak.

  ‘Why am I still here?’ she thought to herself.

  He’d given her every reason to leave. He was crass, arrogant, and not to mention how dismissive he became as soon as his sexual needs were met. And after all of that, all it took to talk her into hearing him out was to ask. At the thought of it, she lowered her head.

  “Sit with me. Please,” Zander said politely, his current behavior a stark contrast to the way he’d stormed off to the bathroom. Still, Vanessa did as he asked.

  She kept bending and moving in ways he wanted her to and, each time, the disappointment she felt in herself only grew.

  Zander kept his distance, which Vanessa was grateful for. He was lucky she even let him hold her hand to lead her over.

  At opposite sides of the lounge, they stared at one another, neither saying a word for several seconds, but it was Zander who spoke first. He owed her an explanation. As uncomfortable as it would be, as much as he wished he’d been able to keep her locked out of the rooms inside his mind where he stored all the dirty, ugly things. The things that made him the smug bastard he is today.

  However, it was he who made that impossible.

  They’d reached an impasse; one where he could either choose to keep his secrets at the risk of losing Vanessa altogether or he could fess up and leave the rest to chance. Quite honestly, he didn’t like either option, but his back was against the proverbial wall.

  So, without any cause to prolong the inevitable, Vanessa was handed the key she’d been anxious to get her hands on months ago when Zander breathed the words, “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  He stared and so did she. Every insecurity he’d ever tried to mask, every monster, every demon, reared its ugly mug at that very moment. They stared, too, no doubt feeling amused as Zander squirmed beneath this woman’s gaze.

  A soft breath puffed from Vanessa’s lips. “And what, exactly, do you intend to accomplish with this conversation?” she shot back, folding her arms across her chest right after.

  Not what Zander expected. Not at all.

  Puzzled, he searched for an explanation that wouldn’t backfire, one Vanessa wouldn’t suspect to be another ploy, another one of his attempts to manipulate her. There honestly was no ill intent. All he wanted was to lay everything bare. All he wanted was to… to… reach her.

  “I only mean to share things with you I probably should’ve some time ago,” he said rat
her timidly.

  Again, she glared, but didn’t respond. Zander was beginning to realize she wasn’t going to make this easy. If they were going to accomplish anything, it would be because he was willing to put forth the effort.

  “I suppose the beginning would be the best place to start,” he went on. “My childhood.”

  The beautiful scenery and crackling fire may as well have been a mirage. With the turn of events, he felt as though time had leapt and he was right back in Vanessa’s office, right back on that couch. However, this time, he made up his mind not to deflect, which meant he’d have to be forthcoming with details that honestly still made him uneasy. Even all these years later.

  One deep breath later, Zander prepared to keep his word; for her, for whatever they were becoming, he’d start at the beginning.

  “From the day I was born, I was nothing to my mother but an inconvenience. I was…” he paused to think of how to express himself. “I was the thing that stood between her and true happiness… whatever form happiness might take on for a woman like her.”

  His eyes traced invisible lines on the floor as he thought. Those words, although there were so few of them, were difficult for Zander to get out. Vanessa could see that clear as day.

  “Is this something she’s said directly to you?” she asked. “Or are you basing this belief off of behaviors you’ve observed over the years?”

  Vanessa had officially, although Zander hoped only temporarily, stopped being his weekend companion and had transitioned back into the role in which he believed she was most comfortable—Dr. Ferris.

  “She didn’t have to spell it out,” Zander replied, running a hand down his face. “But someone can only throw you to the wolves so many times before you start to get the hint.”

  The next part was hard to say, but this was necessary.

  “She never loved me,” he admitted.

  It was a bold statement, but it was spoken with such conviction, Zander knew Vanessa at least believed he believed this to be a fact. He trusted she’d join him at this very conclusion as the conversation wore on, though.