Hurting To Feel (Carpool Dolls)

by Abby Wood

  "Yeah. I need to run before I'm charged extra for being late." Gee picked up her jacket and hurried toward the door. "Call me if you need to chat, 'kay?"

  "I will." She closed the door behind Gee and walked to her desk.

  Once Nathan assumed she'd had the flu last night, she'd let him continue believing she was sick. It was easier to deal with than telling him the real reason she'd lost all her stomach and ended up in bed. Never had she braved being so close to her father at any other time in her life, and once was enough.

  Sure, she'd driven by Curt Stewart's building numerous times. Curt Stewart…her lip curled. That's how she thought of him. Two names. Never Curt or father.

  She wasn't a stalker. She never went out of her way, but when errands forced her in that area of P-town, she'd consciously looked for him. She'd even mistakenly walked by his house while visiting a friend. After seeing him in his driveway, she'd dropped the friendship with the woman she'd met at the coffee shop. She'd rather avoid anything that had to do directly or indirectly with Curt Steward.

  She slammed the desk drawer. That's why she had to break up with Nathan.

  He'd called before work, at work, during work, and ten minutes after she usually closed the doors and locked up, he'd called again. She removed the keys from her purse. She'd play it safe this time.

  If she stayed away, she'd remain strong.

  After a few days, he'd get the hint. He was a smart man, and she knew he'd never sink to chasing her. That wasn't his style. Pursuing her would be beneath a man like Nathan who demanded complete control.

  She walked down the stairs and across the lobby. Checking the street first, she quickly locked the door and hurried to the Porsche. Inside, she locked the door and pulled away from the curb.

  It took her no time to travel the five blocks to her house. The street bare of any other cars but her neighbors on the left, and Mrs. Lindsay's garbage cans on the right. She parked, and with keys in hand, jogged up the pathway and let herself in. Then she locked the door. A hysterical giggle escaped.

  She was being silly. Nathan had better things to do than stalk her. She shrugged off her coat. They'd had great sex, that's all.

  Okay, better than great. Sex with Nathan was fantastic. Better than anything she'd ever experienced, but relationships were built on more than if they turned each other on. Lifestyles had to match, and personalities came into play.

  She and Nathan had nothing in common. She felt like a little girl playing dress up around him. He'd figure out who she was, and drop her faster than a plunging cash cow in the stock market.

  She kicked off her heels and walked barefooted into the kitchen. Her stomach gnawed. Nervous the whole day, she was afraid to eat. Now she craved a baked potato.

  Two feet inside the room, she flipped the light switch on. Sensing something out of place, a form took shape and she screamed.

  Nathan sat in a chair by her table. One look, and she knew he wasn't happy to see her.

  "H-how did you get in here?" She sidestepped to the island, needing something big between them.

  "Breaking into houses is easy. Cars are even easier to jack. Try a bank…those make you think." His gaze hardened.

  She squeezed the edge of the counter. "I'd like you to leave."

  "There's something about surprising someone." He stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. "I can almost smell the fear—he inhaled– and feel your heart hammering inside your chest from clear across the room."

  She stiffened. Unable to take her eyes off him, she remained silent. For how much he was scaring her to death—and he was definitely freaking her out—there was something else about him that frightened her even more.

  His eyes, usually so clear and direct, held hers but it was almost as if he wasn't seeing her. Yet, he was definitely looking. The disconnectedness physically wounded her.

  "Have you ever experienced tasting the terror you bring out in someone?" He shook his head, breaking his gaze. "No, probably not. You've had no reason to hurt anyone."

  "Nathan, I–"

  "But you should." He stood and approached the other side of the kitchen island. "I left you last night with a request that you call me in the morning. You didn't."

  "I–"

  "You did not," he said. "Nor did you answer the phone when I worried that you grew sicker overnight and were unable to get to the phone. So, in my worry, I came here."

  "W-what?" She reeled away and pressed herself against the refrigerator.

  "Right. Instead of going into the office this morning, I came here to help you. Because that's what I fucking promised I'd do. Imagine my surprise when my knock went unanswered. Then to find you not home, I made some phone calls. After confirming with one of your dolls named Sheila, I learned you were at work and you seemed perfectly healthy." He stepped around the island and leaned his hip on the corner. "My terror over your safety evaporated into anger."

  She crossed her arms, thought better of angering him more, and put her fists down at her sides. "I can explain."

  "Oh, you can explain?" He gazed up at the ceiling. "Since you're feeling well enough to work, it goes without saying that you're in good enough shape to fuck."

  Her throat closed. She shook her head, because this wasn't what she wanted.

  He stalked toward her. She melted into the flat, slick surface of the fridge and even then, she couldn't escape. Not giving her an inch, he pressed against her. She gasped at the definite hardness pressed into her stomach. Oh, God.

  His head lowered and he spoke into her ear. "Try to play me, doll," he whispered. "You want to know the real Nathan, I'll show you. You want to speed things up and take what I need instead of pussy footing around with what I was giving you. I'll give it all to you."

  His hot breath on her ear sent a quiver down her spine. One she tried hard to push back, one she wanted to refuse, one she knew she shouldn't like. But, she did.

  "I told you what you'd get from me, and you walked into my bed on your own two legs." He nipped her earlobe with his teeth. "I own your body. No doubt, if I put my hand under your dress, my fingers would come away wet."

  She turned her head away from him. He only followed her, and she'd opened up her neck to his mouth. The hard suction on the delicate skin where her neck met her shoulder proved he was right. Her core spasmed, rebelling against her brain.

  "I made a promise," he whispered against her skin. "I will always, always, make you satisfied sexually."

  Her knees weakened, and he dipped his body, nailing her to the appliance. His erection ground into the V of her thighs. Her eyes rolled, and she closed her eyelids in a vain attempt to hide the truth from him.

  She wanted this. This thing he was doing to her. The dominance, stealing her control, taking over her power to think beyond the right now. Everything.

  "N-Nathan…" She wasn't sure if she spoke or thought his name.

  "I'm making you a new promise, doll, so listen carefully. You have no say in this one," He took her wrists and held them out to the sides, stretching her, crucifying her. "I will die trying to get inside your head. You can't run from me. What you think, feel, fear, is now mine. I will know every secret you've buried and every worry you've fed and nurtured by yourself. You think I'm scary now, just know that I can make you or break you."

  As if he'd promised her the moon, she let go. Every muscle in her body ceased to work. Nathan held her dangling from her wrists. The force of his hardness cut into her pubic bone, and the pain, the discomfort, the inability to do a thing about it, because she wanted even more left her whimpering.

  She'd gone beyond fear. Only one person could save her.

  "Please." She hung her head. "Please, please…"

  Whether she begged him to hold up his end of the promise and not give up on her, or to end the torment of what he was doing to her body, she couldn't say. She only knew his words filled her with something so profound, she'd die without him.

  The tinkle and clash of broken glass snapped
her gaze up. Before she could comprehend what'd happened, Nathan lifted her. She groaned as the front of her body met the cold tile of the kitchen island. He yanked her dress over her ass, pulled her ankles until her legs hung off the counter. She reached out, but her hands slipped on the smooth tile.

  Her cheek pressed into the cold surface as Nathan spread her legs and plunged inside of her without any warning. Swift pleasure filled her, and brought her head off the counter. He shoved her back down, and kept a hand on her back. She could do nothing, but take the savage thrust of his cock.

  "Please," she whispered, wanting to move.

  He withdrew from her body. She squirmed, scared he was leaving, but his hand remained on her back.

  "This is what you want, and I can give it to you." He stroked the rounded curve of her hip. "All you have to do is give in to me. Challenge me, and I'll fight back."

  She nodded, scraping her cheek. "I want…."

  His body leaned over her back and he used his weight to pin her down. Defenseless and at his mercy, she submitted. How she would want to be fucked on the counter, degraded, and put in a role she didn't believe in, was beyond her thinking. She only knew she wanted him back inside of her. She wanted to come. She wanted to come for him, so he wouldn't leave her alone.

  "That's it, doll," he whispered in her ear. "You're finally starting to understand what you need from me. I can give you everything you crave and have never received."

  "Please." She used all her strength to buck her hips, reminding him where she wanted him.

  "I can show you." He leaned back, straightening. "I can give you more than even you know about and want."

  A resounding slap against flesh filled the room. A split second later, energy and pain came from her, and she arched off the counter. His hand hitting her ass came so fast, only afterward did the burn hit the surface. She struggled to move away from the pain when he slapped her again.

  Panic ensued. She clawed at the counter. Her feet scraped against the cabinet below her, scrambling for escape. Nathan pushed her down, plunged into her, and his harsh breath swept over her shoulder. Her nipples ached underneath her, and she squirmed, liking the way her whole body seemed under attack and not understanding why she'd enjoy what he was doing to her.

  "That's it." He grunted, skidding her inches, making her skin burn as the tile pulled against her skin. "I can make it all better."

  With his promise, she let herself go. She floated, yet felt him holding her down, not letting her wander away to where she could become lost. The length of his heat stroked her inside, letting her know she wasn't alone. For once, she gave herself to someone else. To Nathan.

  His fingers dug into her upper thighs, not letting her get away. The reminder that he controlled every move she made burned deep, scarring her for anything less. She wanted proof that he'd be there, a reminder of where he'd taken her, and as he dragged her back hard to meet his penetration, she came.

  Every inch of her cried in pleasure. Her voice filled the room. Her skin, hot and tight, screamed out for more. Her insides exploded sending every high emotion straight to her chest, and killing her in the most pleasurable way possible.

  Barely able to make a conscious thought, she closed her eyes and smiled as he released his own pleasure inside of her. She wanted to tell him how she was feeling, and reassure him she'd never ignore him again, but all she could muster up the strength to do is whisper, "Yours."

  But, she wasn't sure if he heard her or she imagined the whole thing.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sometime in the night, it was too dark and checking the clock was not a concern, Addison had gone downstairs, leaving Nathan asleep in her bed. By the time daylight filtered through the curtain and Nathan walked down the stairs, she was no closer to making any sense out of her life.

  In fact, she wanted to hide and make every nasty and disgusting thing that happened last night in the kitchen, and later in the bed and bathroom, go away.

  Nathan sat on the couch and pulled her onto his lap. She let him hold her close and laid her head on his shoulder. Dealing with what happened seemed easier when he was near. That fact frightened her.

  Alone and in the dark, she'd discovered how lost she felt. Whether that was because of the wanton behavior he'd drawn from her or the thought she was sick in the head for wanting him to strip her of all control and cause her pain.

  "You should've woke me," he murmured against her hair.

  What was she supposed to say? She needed time to herself without him owning her thoughts or making her think differently than she'd always believed in. Knowing she effortlessly gave up her control to say no, to stop, and instead acted as if she couldn't live without him slapping her ass or fucking her hard enough she felt every step down the stairway earlier.

  So, she remained silent.

  "I don't want you to think about what happened while you're at work today," he said.

  She stiffened. Work? God, how could she even go into the office, much less go in the cars with other men?

  She pushed into a sitting position, but remained on his lap. "I need to shower and get ready for work."

  His hand clamped down on her thigh, stopping her. She winched and a tiny surge of pleasure she couldn't explain warmed her. He lifted the T-shirt she was wearing and gazed down at her leg.

  Three fate bruises marred her skin. Barely anything, really. They'd be gone in a day.

  One by one, he settled three fingers over the discoloration, matching his hand to the prints. She gazed down at his touch, barely breathing.

  "I'd hoped…," he whispered. "Until last night, I wasn't one hundred percent sure you could handle me. You did."

  She nodded tightly, and moved to get off his lap. Distance would solve all her problems. She'd gone through worst things than confusion, and would survive today.

  He followed her out of the room. She refused to look behind her, and went up the stairs. She hesitated on the third step. The muscles in the back of her thighs quivered.

  Without a word, Nathan picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. He deposited her on the bed, and she watched him walk into the bathroom. The sound of water made her feel an inch tall after what she'd done to him. Why was he being so nice?

  Back in the room, he pulled her off the bed and peeled her shirt off. "Go take your shower. I'm going to make some phone calls. When you're done, I'll jump in. I need to be in at work soon."

  She walked away. Behind the door, she sagged in relief. The steam rolling over the glass shower doors a welcome sight. She'd feel more energized once she worked the stiffness out of her muscles.

  Fifteen minutes later, she dragged herself out of the shower stall and slipped on her robe. Her experience with her hot water heater was precise. Nathan only had ten minutes more before he'd be taking a cold shower. She had no idea if he spent a long time washing, but thought she'd better play it safe.

  Literally, on tiptoes, she walked out into the bedroom. "You can have the bathroom."

  He ran his hand down her arm, held her hand, and kept her from walking past him. "I'll run you to Car Dolls on my way to work."

  She tilted her head. "It's in the opposite direction. I can drive there, and that way I have my car to bring me home."

  "You're not coming back here. I want you at my place." He kissed her forehead before walking into the bathroom.

  Unlike her, he left the door open. She stepped across the room and stared into her closet. Today's schedule meant nothing. She grabbed the first thing she touched.

  A red modest dress with a scooped neckline would give her a classy polished look. The hem hit her at the knee and would cover the bruises, hiding the evidence of what transpired between her and Nathan. She turned the hanger around and frowned. The open back showed a lot of skin.

  She set the dress on the bed, dropped the robe, and walked to her full-length mirror. Peering over her shoulder, she scanned her back. A relieved sigh escaped.

  Her back was unmarred.

/>   After dressing, she slipped on her heels and sat on the edge of the bed with her hairbrush. Not in the mood to take time over her hair, she swept the damp strands into a braid, accenting the combined strands with a pearl clip.

  Nathan walked out with a towel around his waist. She averted her eyes and kept busy putting the contents of one purse into the small handbag she used with the black shoes. Then she sat at her dressing table, lined her eyes with the color kohl, and put on red lipstick. Only when she'd finished did she realize she went with power colors.

  Red and Black.

  Severe hairstyle.

  Heavy makeup.

  Inside, she felt like someone kicked her ass. The sore spots, the bruises, the exertion of their night together had nothing to do with any of her reactions. She simply could not grasp letting Nathan run her life.

  "What time will you get off work?" He buttoned up his shirt.

  She glanced at him. "Seven."

  "I'll pick you up in the lobby of your building. Don't wait outside if I'm running late." He flipped up his collar and tossed his tie around his neck.

  "I already told you, I'm driving. There's no need for you to come." She smoothed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  His sharp intake of air had her gazing at him again. He struggled with his tie. She walked over and shooed his hands away. Concentrating on his neck, she said. "I'd like to come home to my own house, my own bed."

  He stopped her hands, lifted her chin. "No."

  A shiver went down her spine. She dropped her gaze. "Whatever," she mumbled.

  He chuckled and his adam's apple brushed against the back of her fingers. "I pushed you last night, and you begged for more. You feed off me, doll. That makes me happy."

  She made quick use of his tie, and stepped away. "I need to get to work or I'll be late."

  She lied. Today, she had only scheduled afternoon appointments. She never went out on a request on a Tuesday. She'd spend the morning setting the dolls' work hours and preparing paychecks for Friday's payday. At lunch, she walked down to the Columbia River and took a little extra to the woman's shelter.