Blended (Redemption #1)

by Sasha Brümmer

  My body reacts to his movements as his fingers burn my skin, riling me up even more than I already am. “What do you want?”

  “I want to break you.”

  I go still at his words. He didn’t even hesitate to say them. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s obvious that the only way I will be able to hold onto you is by breaking you first, and I think I’m more than halfway there. You’re so quiet lately, and you’ve kept that dirty mouth that I like so much in check. But as much as I like it, I need to break this sexual addiction you seem to have before it screws us both over.”

  “How did you figure me out?”

  “It takes one to know one, to see another struggle with the same invisible illness, Hadley.”

  His words pull me from his spell, making my body still underneath his touch. His surprise admission has me startled. I can hear the truth behind his words.

  “I didn’t know,” I confess.

  “I know you didn’t, which is why I’m telling you. I’ve fought through it body, mind, and soul. The addiction shows no mercy to anyone, and it becomes everything you breathe for and more. It changes you into someone that you no longer recognize and without its control, you easily fall into what you’re trying to hide from.”

  “Is that why you won’t give me what I want? Because you think it’s consuming me?”

  “It is consuming you.” His pelvis presses into mine, and my body automatically reacts to his, pushing up to meet him. “I fought my battles with help from multiple specialists and testing, but I’d rather not subject you to that when I believe I know what you need.”

  “But from the signals you gave me, you were ready to fuck me in Las Vegas.”

  “I was. I cave in to the addiction from time to time, and when I do, I make sure that it will not affect my life as you are allowing yours to.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I fucked around to find the love that I saw but never received from anyone but my mother. I fucked up my life with an addiction wearing my skin until I was unrecognizable. My addiction wasn’t to porn or masturbation, but to the actual act of sex. I took what I wanted to try and prove that there was more to the act of sex than a physical high. I used it for something to protect my feelings as well, but it was something I used to find my place. To find exactly where I fit into this world by fitting into as many pussies as I could—each of which I neglected and didn’t pay any real interest to. I was devoid of emotion and the capability to love. The sexual bonds were enough for me for years, but now I will never be satisfied with just the physical act of sex.”

  “I think I do something similar,” I admit before I am able to stop myself.

  He nods and kisses my lips once. “I think that what you are hiding sits deeper than mine ever did, which is why I refuse to trust someone else with you.”

  “Why me, though?”

  “Because I knew from the second I saw you that I had to have you.” He shakes his head and rests his forehead down against mine. I catch the quick and quiet breath that he takes. “You look shocked.”

  “I think I am. I don’t understand why you’d pursue me, even if you could. My coming to Chicago was just fate.”

  He chews over my words without saying anything, but the smoldering look that he’s giving me sends a wild vibration down my spine. I lean up and bite his nipple without any warning.

  He quirks his eyebrow and glares at me. I shrug innocently before laughter escapes my lips. “You’re going to get hell for that,” he says as his hands move to my ribs. The feeling of being wanted and the warmth of his hands on my body might make me lose my mind one day soon.

  All of a sudden his fingers are digging into my sides before he starts tickling my ribcage.

  “Holy shit,” I squeak as I try to move out from his grip, but he kneels up and locks me between his legs so I’m unable to escape. “Wade!” I shriek out.

  “Not so feisty and mouthy now, are we?” he taunts as he continues his assault on my body, making me writhe underneath him.

  I place my hands on his chest and push up, trying to buck him off of me, but he’s too strong for me to budge. “Damn it,” I cry out.

  His throaty chuckle fills the room, and it’s a sound that I know I won’t tire of. A small smile plays on his lips as he leans down to whisper in my ear, “I know that you think every man out there is the same. That they all just want one thing from a woman, but I’m going to prove to both you and myself that I can and do want more.”

  His fingers still when he finishes speaking those words, but before I can respond to him, he starts to speak again. “I’m going to show you that you are worth more than a piece to fuck. I’m going to make you see that you are someone’s first choice, and when you finally break through the haze of addiction, I will have found you.”

  “Wade . . .” his name comes off of my lips as a praise. “You’re so sure of yourself when it comes to me.”

  “I know what I want, Hads, and it’s you.”

  Goose bumps break out over my skin at his words. “You sort of make me want to be something better. Someone worthy of you.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. You already are. I’m just going to be the one to show you.”

  He tilts his head to the side and watches me closely for my reaction.

  “As much as I want to believe that, I can’t.”

  “Which part? The fact that you are already worth having me and so much more or that I will be the one to show you?”

  “Both,” I tell him honestly as I reach up and cup my hand over his cheek. He leans into my touch, and my body does this weird jig inside as if it’s in its happy place.

  “I’ll make you see it, baby. Just give me time.”

  The endearment hits me in the heart, and this time, there’s nothing stopping it from piercing through the organ. My armor is no longer protecting me, and I believe he knows it. He’s going to push me until I can’t stand the number of knives he’s throwing at me.

  For those who believe in the notion of love, they see it as a bright red heart, thumping away eagerly, but when I imagine it, I see it differently. I see knives, daggers, bullets, and arrows piercing it from all angles. But of course, I don’t believe in it . . . so I choose not to see it at all.

  I lie to myself. Again.

  “Most men who call me baby say thank you for the fuck and leave.” My eyebrows furrow at the thought of how many of those there have been.

  “Trust me?” he asks me softly before turning his lips to my palm and placing a kiss there.

  “I’m trying to.”

  He nods and lowers himself over me, speaking against my lips without kissing me. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

  He shifts his body off of mine, and I instantly miss the weight of him and his heat. The warmth of his lips caresses my neck as he fits my body to his. I shut my eyes and will my racing heart to follow the sound of his breaths in order to calm myself down. He might not notice that his words have me on the verge of a panic attack, but I just went from zero to one hundred in a second. I will not cry. I will not break down in front of this man.

  I will myself to realize that this fear is just an illusion and soon I’ll be free from it. My depression and panic attacks are not and never will be signs of weakness. They are proof that I fight to remain strong, whether it is through sex or fighting away the painful memories. As I lie here, I feel like my skin is turning inside out and that I am being consumed whole.

  “Rye. You’re shaking.” His voice breaks through my inner monologue of reminding myself to keep breathing.

  “I’m sorry,” I say with a shaky voice.

  “What triggered it?”

  How does he always know that there is something wrong?

  “I just . . .” I take in a ragged breath, trying to stop myself from hyperventilating. “I can’t breathe.”

  He shifts his large body so that he’s eye level with me. I can just make out the shadows of his face as he cups my c
heeks with both of his hands. “Do you have any anxiety medication in your purse?”

  I nod as my chest starts to ache and dizziness ensues.

  “Are you able to take it now?”

  I nod, realizing that I forgot to take it this morning while I was packing. Intense tingling starts at the tips of my fingers and begins to crawl up my wrists, taunting me.

  “I’m going to grab your purse,” he says simply. He’s telling me his movements before he makes them, and I’m grateful because anything could make this worse. Any sudden or hectic movement could cause me to plummet deeper into the attack.

  He lifts his body from the bed and strides across the room and out into the cabin. He’s back with my purse within a minute, and he walks to the side of the bed that I’m lying on.

  “I need you to sit up for me, gorgeous.”

  Slowly, I push my body up with my arms, feeling the pressure of thousands of needles in them as I do. He opens my purse and hands it to me. I point to the inner pocket and watch him unzip it and remove a clear orange prescription bottle. He uncaps it and spills the pills onto his palm before keeping one and returning the rest of them into the plastic container.

  “Here,” he says and gets up again before walking to a small refrigerator that I hadn’t noticed before, retrieving a bottle of water.

  “Thank you,” I manage to say as he uncaps the bottle and holds it out for me to take my anxiety medication.

  With shaking hands, I slide the pill into my mouth before raising the bottle of water, which he doesn’t let go of. Instead, he assists me with it as I bring it to my lips and swallow enough to get the pill down and into my system.

  Once I nod to him, he sets it aside and sits down on the bed next to me, offering me his hand to help me sit up. “Put your arms above your head and breathe for me.”

  I’m finding it hard to comprehend that he’s actually helping me. The other times that this has happened around men, they disappear. I take his hand and pull myself up, my chest rising and falling in rapid succession. He intertwines his fingers with both my hands before raising our arms into the air, above our heads. I watch his breathing and try to match mine to it.

  The big black hole opens up and threatens to suck me into it. I know that once I’m in its grasp, I won’t be able to climb out for a few days because depression will sink in and I will spend my nights crying myself to sleep, each time hitting harder than the one before.

  “Hadley.” His voice demands my attention and my eyes dart to his, fear lancing through my body. “Stay with me. Don’t become the victim of your mind.”

  Chaos. Danger. Threats. Panic. Frustration. It all hits me at once, and I just want to curl up into his arms and force the world to take a step back and allow me to breathe. I need him to let me escape, but I know that he won’t allow me to cave into my mind where it’s not safe. I squeeze my eyes shut, desperate for relief. Anxiety overwhelms me completely until I feel his lips on mine. His kiss is slow, gentle, yet deep. I open my lips to his and force myself to stop thinking about anything other than the feeling of them moving with mine.

  Endorphins make their way through my body as my mind is redirected and refocusing on him instead. My heart accelerates and then slows down, causing me to pull away from him.

  “I can’t, just . . .”

  “I’m sorry. I thought that it would help.” I can hear the worry in his voice as I lie back down on the bed and tug on his hand.

  “Just hold me and don’t let go.”

  He lies down next to me and pulls me into his body so our fronts are touching. With my head tucked under his chin, I turn my head sideways to listen to his heartbeat.

  It takes me another hour before I’m able to regulate my breathing again and stop the tingling that had taken over my fingers. I let out a steady breath, loud enough for him to hear. He shifts and peers down at me. “Hadley?”

  “I’m fine. I’m sorry about that.”

  I tilt my chin upward so we’re breathing in and out together as his lips are only a whisper away from mine. He strokes my bottom lip with his fingers and gives me a sly smile before closing the distance between us and taking my mouth in an all-consuming kiss. He kisses me like it’s the last thing that he will do, as if there is no time left.

  He must feel the tension melt away from my body because his mouth parts with mine and I cling to him. “Don’t ever apologize for needing me. Is that understood?”

  I smile to myself, feeling as if he just brought me back from someplace dark and raw to somewhere pure. “Yes.”

  “Good. Get some rest before I kiss you for the remainder of this flight.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that, you know?”

  “I figured as much.”

  He drowns me in his lips again as that blizzard stirs behind his eyes until he closes them to kiss me lifeless.

  We landed in Sydney about two and a half hours ago, and we’ve just walked into the Sydney suite at the Park Hyatt Hotel. Isla has gone to her own suite, which is not far from Hadley’s and mine, but it’s enough distance between us—it might be needed.

  The plane ride here was everything but what I expected it to be. She didn’t argue when I told her that I was going to break her, or when I told her about my personal experience with this invisible illness. Given that I didn’t go into too much detail about my sexual past, she understood.

  What took me by the balls in a death grip was when she had her panic attack. I felt useless and incapable of helping her. She hasn’t told me what brought it on, and it’s not my place to ask either. I decide to wait it out and see if she offers up an answer in the coming days.

  “What do you think?”

  “Are you kidding me, Wade?” She spins around and almost leaps into my arms.

  I catch her and move her now-straight hair out of her face as she giggles up at me.

  Fuck me.

  If I thought that she was beautiful before . . . She seems to have come alive after our experience on the plane. Her eyes look like they are filled with glitter instead of the turquoise color that they are. Appeal. Desirability. Seductiveness. Allure. I feel it all while I watch her. This attraction to her has not remained constant; it’s been growing ever since I first laid eyes on her.

  I find that my attraction to her runs deeper than her skin, eyes, breasts, and all that she has to offer physically. It goes far beyond that realm. I’m interested in the person she is. I can feel the pull toward her from my core.

  I’m used to superficial bullshit laced with sex. This time, though, is different. I realize that I haven’t answered her yet because she’s staring at me as if I’ve forgotten how to speak.

  “This is ours for the week.”

  “Do you always travel in such luxury?” she asks as she blinks up at me and she seems genuinely curious.

  “I do. I don’t think that I could travel any other way. Are you tired?” I move her hair off of her shoulders, showcasing her breasts for me.

  “Not really. I mean, I did fall asleep while you kissed me to death, so I’m not complaining.”

  “You’ll be jet-lagged later on. If you’re up to it, though, I’d like to take you out to see some of the city.”

  “Of course I want to go with you.” She places a quick peck on my lips before rushing over to her suitcase. “Where are we going to go? Do I have time to freshen up?”

  “You do, and you’ll need to wear a bikini. We’ll head out to Bondi Beach for the rest of the afternoon and possibly watch the sunset. Isla has her heart set on going to the beach and then shopping, but I might leave the latter to you two and my credit card.”

  “Excuse me?” she stops rifling through her suitcase and looks up at me.

  “Isla has a crush on Westfield; it’s a mall filled with everything designer. We’ll head there after the beach.”

  “Oh. Wait, I thought you weren’t going to come.”

  I smirk at her word choice. “I wasn’t, but I’d like to spend time with you before I have to dive hea
dfirst into work.”

  “I like the sound of that,” she says as she pulls out something black from her suitcase before walking gingerly to the bathroom to change.

  I stand here, staring at her ass before it disappears behind the bathroom door. I glance down at my erection and shake my head at my own needs; it must take me a full two minutes to rein in my raging hard-on. I adjust myself in my jeans before I grab my swim trunks from my suitcase and strip bare in the middle of the bedroom. I cannot stop myself from thinking about the way she looks when she doesn’t have a scrap of material hiding her flawless body. Burned into my head is the image of her bare in front of me in the shower. I can almost feel the softness of her skin underneath my fingers again.

  My cock rears to life once again as she walks into the bedroom, and I only have one leg in my swim trunks.

  “Wade, do you . . .” Her words cut off when she looks up at me, holding something at the back of her neck. I wink at her and my cock twitches when I feel her gaze on me.

  I step into the other leg and pull the trunks up and over my erection. “Do I what?”

  “Fuck,” she mumbles.

  “Yes. I do fuck. Rather hard in fact. I tend to bruise the woman I’m with, both inside and out,” I tell her honestly.

  “I . . . uhm . . . that’s not what I meant.”

  “I’m sure that you have thought about it before, though.”

  “I mean, yes, I have, but I was going to ask you to tie me.”

  “Shibari? I can do that while I fuck you as well if you’d like. I hope that you’re not opposed to rope burn.”

  She purses her lips and walks up to me before dropping her hand from the back of her neck and lowering it to circle around my shaft through my trunks. “Show me,” she dares.

  The thin black straps of her bikini top slip off of her shoulders, which in turn exposes her beautifully shaped breasts to me.

  “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, Rye.”

  “And what? You don’t think that I’ll be able to handle this?” she asks as she squeezes my shaft. I pulse in her grip before I bring my hand up to cup her breast and tug on the peak of her nipple.