Hurting To Feel (Carpool Dolls)
Page 12
She'd fucked. She'd cowered. She'd lain broken on the bedroom floor after a particular heavy altercation when he demanded she let him inside her head. But, she'd remained closed off, despite her body willingly submitting.
"Mr. Raffy." Lilly tapped his arm from the backseat. "Is this where Addison lives?"
"Sh." Joan pulled her daughter back and put her arm around her to keep her away from Nathan.
He peered in the rearview mirror. "She lives with me. This is where Addison works, and where your mom will work soon."
Joan caught his eye and turned to gaze out the window without saying a word. He'd given her no choice. Addison wanted Joan to work for her and he damn well would make sure Addison received what she wanted.
In return for Joan's cooperation, he'd set her up in a low income apartment building this afternoon with the threat that she was not to tell Addison about what he'd done to get her to walk away from the camp.
"It's time." He exited the car and opened the rear door.
Lilly, obviously feeling better today, bounded out onto the sidewalk and peered up at the building. Joan quickly grabbed her daughter's hand and followed him to the front door. Not for the first time, he was reminded that he needed to talk to Addison about having her doors locked while she was upstairs in the office alone.
There was no sense of having an opened business when clients never came to the building, but called for a doll to meet at a preapproved pick up spot. Being an office full of women put them at a risk for anyone to walk in off the street and cause trouble. He took the elevator, holding the doors while the two ladies followed him inside.
The doors closed. He pushed the second floor button. "You will tell Addison you're here to take her up on the job offer. When she asks where you are staying, you'll tell her with friends until you get enough money for a deposit on an apartment. When she insists on paying for your lodgings, you'll take the money she gives you. Don't argue with her. Whatever she offers, indulge her, and accept. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Joan said.
"Mommy, what's indulge?" Lilly peered up at her mom.
Joan squeezed her daughter's hand. "Shush, baby. Let's be quiet while we visit your angel."
Angel. Nathan warmed. Apparently, he wasn't the only person who believed Addison was sent straight from heaven to make his life richer.
The doors opened. He followed them out of the elevator and motioned toward the door to the left. "Go ahead."
At Addison's door, Lilly hesitated and glanced behind her. Her smile came quickly, and he winked before he caught himself. He liked kids, and Lilly deserved a roof over her head.
He didn't fault Joan for raising her child on the street. At least they were together, which was more than a lot of people who stayed in the encampments and shelters had. Even living for years on his own, he understood the security that came with the community of those surviving on the street. In their own way, they formed a bond.
Not a trusting bond, never that. When you were thankful for waking up at all and found yourself stiff and achy from lying on the cold ground, comfort came from a single look from someone who understood how death seemed easier than living.
"Joan!" Addison's voice came from inside the office.
Unable to resist, Nathan walked closer and stood in the doorway. He leaned his shoulder against the frame and crossed his arms. The joy on Addison's face made his trouble over convincing Joan to come worth it. In the end, he had to threaten the woman, and he felt no remorse. He did it for Addison, and eventually Joan would see he was right.
Addison's smile meant everything to him, and he hadn't realized how much he missed that part of her until right this minute. Knowing he'd been the one to put the happiness back in her spirit made him feel good. She gave openly and honestly where he wouldn't allow himself to go.
"Guess what, Addison?" Lilly tugged on Addison's hand.
Addison bent down and gave Lilly all her attention. He stepped forward and stopped himself. He wanted that same open and genuine courtesy directed at him.
Addison's smile fell away and her gaze slowly came to him in the doorway. Without taking her eyes off him, she spoke quietly to Lilly. Then Addison walked to him.
"You brought them to me?" She put her hand on his stomach and leaned into him.
He shrugged. "They needed a ride."
"Thank you," she whispered.
Her pupils dilated and her cheeks flushed. His body hardened as her fingers curled in his shirt. Attuned to her every need, he couldn't miss how she no longer hid her desire from him.
"Take care of them, and then call me when you're done. I'll swing by and pick you up," he whispered, tracing the curve of her cheek with his finger.
She trembled under his touch. "I'll hurry."
"Doll…" He looked at the ceiling and found the strength to give her space. He could wait. "Go take care of them."
Without distracting her more, he turned and walked out. In his car, he had a destination in mind. It'd been too long since he'd returned to Professor Frank. He was overdue for a visit, and for the first time, he looked forward to telling him about Addison.
Fifteen minutes later, he arrived at the private entrance to the cottage behind University of Portland where Professor Frank taught. He walked through the gate, down the gravel path, and stopped at the door.
Francis Peter Lawrence – Professor Frank
The twelve inch by six-inch bronze-plated nameplate hung on the door since Nathan's first visit, so many years ago. He ran his finger over the letters. With no family or children of his own, Professor joked that the school would rip off the nameplate and use it for a grave marker when he died at his desk. He warmed in a way only his friend could put him at ease, because it was just like Professor Frank to worry about having some monstrosity littering the earth after he was gone.
Professor left his mark on the world while teaching, including Nathan. He'd never forget how much he owed his friend.
He shook his head, leaving the thought of losing Professor someday. Dying was never a topic they discussed, and he wondered why not. They'd shared everything about their lives with one another, but never what happened after they succeeded in living.
The professor was the only person who knew everything about him. Even Donny, his own brother, only identified with parts of him that he chose to show him.
With his secrets well kept by Professor Frank, no one would find out about him. No one needed to know the darkness that motivated him to hurt others. Until Addy, no one had wanted to know.
He knocked and let his arm fall to his side. Addy had begged, pleaded, and when those failed, she'd teased her way into finding out more about his past. Ever since he tried to help her learn why she'd submitted to him so easily, she'd taken a one-thought approach to discovering what made him tick.
His good deed backfired. All he'd wanted to do was show her that there was nothing wrong with her. She needed the pain he could give her.
He closed his eyes briefly against the direction of his thoughts. Addy.
The door opened. He stood straighter, because the last thing he wanted Professor to do was worry about him.
"Nathan…" Professor stepped back and motioned him inside.
In his sixty's, Professor Frank kept himself fit by jogging five miles three times a week and swore that one hundred sit-ups and one hundred pushups every morning would keep him from falling over from a heart attack. Nathan thought it was the women and extra-curricular activities that kept him in shape, but who was he to argue.
"Busy?" He stood in the foyer.
Professor shook his head, and then ran a hand through his gray hair. "Not for you."
Nathan found himself pulled into a hug. Not a normal hug, but one he'd hated and appreciated at the same time. Professor Frank engulfed him with both arms, and held him. The pressure, the close contact, the show of affection was typical for them.
Not that Professor Frank gave his hugs to many people. In fact, he'd never seen the P
rofessor hug anyone but him.
Professor Frank whispered in his ear," Talk."
Without letting go, he said, "I fucked up."
Whether he admitted his mistake to himself or Professor Frank, the words brought him no relief.
Professor Frank slapped him on the back. "Let's sit in the other room, and you can tell me what happened."
Seated in the wingback chair in front of the curtained window, Nathan leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. "Met a woman—he broke his gaze and looked at the floor—and told her about me. Some things. Enough."
Professor crossed his legs and put his arm along the back of the couch. "Are you regretting your decision?"
"No." He shrugged. "Yeah. She's a good person."
The professor said, "So are you."
"You know what I mean. She takes homeless women off the street and gives them an honest fucking job." He stood and paced. "Practically a fucking saint."
"Language, Nathan." Professor Frank sighed. "Why don't you give her a chance to accept you, instead of writing her off as someone who'll condemn you for who you are…because that's what you're thinking, right? She won't accept that you need to cause others pain."
"She shouldn't have to accept it." He looked at the ceiling. "I've pushed her to consent to me, and she believes that's as far as I'll go. She has no idea I've held back every single time I've been with her. She worries about how much she accepts from me at this level and how much more I'll push her. She also thinks something is wrong with her because other women would've run away or called the police after what we've done."
"And?" Professor sat forward.
"She's a submissive." Nathan's chest warmed. "She has no clue, and she's giving. You know me…I need more. How long can I hold out without ruining her?"
"So, you teach her. Show her what it's all about, and go slowly," Professor said.
He grimaced and stayed silent. They both knew he wasn't the right person to teach her. Too used to seeking out others to take what he could give them, he had no experience with someone that couldn't recognize her own needs. There was no one that he'd trust to help Addy come to terms with what fulfills her.
"What if I'm wrong?" He shoved his hands in his front pockets. "Hell, I'm thirty five years old, and I've stayed away from women like Addy my whole life. She's—"
"Addy?" Professor asked.
He nodded. "Addison Flint—His shoulders relaxed—she's successful and comes with her own bank account. She doesn't blink knowing who I am. But, she's innocent to someone like me."
Professor cleared his throat and stood. "I have a night class I'm going to have to leave for, but I want you to take things slow. If she means something to you, you'll have to do whatever you can to hold yourself back. Give her time."
"Yeah." He shook the professor's hand.
Professor nodded. "Patience, son."
He cocked his brow. "That's one thing I've never owned."
"For once, try. Don't disappoint yourself." Professor walked him to the door.
He hesitated to leave. "Have you ever gone too far and broken a woman?"
Professor Frank looked him straight in the eye. "Yes."
"How was it?" he asked.
Professor's gaze softened. "It was the most beautiful gift I'd ever received," he said, softly.
"Right," he muttered, inhaled deeply.
Professor clamped his hand on Nathan's shoulder. "Don't stay away so long next time. I've missed you. I want to hear more about Addison, and you. Can you come back and visit soon?"
He nodded and squeezed his friend's arm. He'd be back. He wasn't through needing a little guidance, and with Addison in his life, he'd need all the help he could get. Professor Frank allowed him to let his guard down, and urged him to show his vulnerable side. A side of him that frightened the hell out of him. At least here, with his friend, he felt safe if he wanted to open up.
Without another look or a goodbye, he walked away. The visit left him unsure if he headed in the right direction with Addison. He'd hoped to clear his head, gain some wisdom, and instead he fell back on what was familiar.
Because his needs always came first and because he wanted Addison, he knew he'd never settle for less than having all of her.
Chapter Twenty
After hiring Joan and coming home to have fantastic sex with Nathan, Addison lay curled in front of him on the bed. Nathan's arm lay over her, his hand cupped her breast. Occasionally, he rubbed his thumb across her nipple, and she smiled for no other reason than he made her content.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He kissed the back of her head. "For?"
"Bringing Joan to Carpool Dolls. I don't know why she finally took me up on my offer, but I'm glad she did. I'm also thankful you checked up on her and Lilly. Joan changes her mind easily and if you weren't there, I don't think she would've made the walk to come to the office." She snuggled her back tighter against him.
"Having Joan work for you had nothing to do with me. She respects you. You're honest with her and she must've realized she could trust you," he said.
"Hm. I think it has more to do with Lilly. Joan's the kind of mother who loves her daughter and would do anything for her."
Many times Joan's obvious love for Lilly surprised her. How a woman who had nothing, not even a place to call her own, could still find empathy and compassion to nurture her daughter had Addison hating her own mother.
Going back over all her memories, Addison couldn't remember one time her mother hugged her. She wasn't abused physically, but her mother never laid a hand on her head to smooth her hair or rubbed her back when she found it hard to sleep after having a nightmare. No, her mom hurt her in other ways.
Everything Addison did, she somehow shamed her mother in a way she could never figure out. She failed at the simplest things. Cleaning her room, styling her hair, and even walking brought her insults and disappointments.
She also grew up knowing she was the cause of her father denying paternity. That gave her mother enough ammunition to make her life hell and tell her every day that she'd amount to nothing. Deserved nothing. Should expect nothing.
Nathan rolled her over until they were front to front, face to face, their legs entwined. "You've told me it was just your mom and you growing up. How did she die?"
"Brain aneurism. A few years ago. I was twenty four and had just opened Carpool Dolls." She rubbed her fingers against the whiskers on his jaw. "The doctor at the hospital says it can happen like that. One minute she was standing at the table in a meeting and within seconds, she died."
"That must've been hard for you," he whispered.
She shrugged. "It was harder to deal with being relieved she was gone."
He pulled back and looked at her. "You weren't close?"
She laughed bitterly. "No. We coexisted. She hated me and I tried to stay out of her way. Well, until I became a teenager, and I took delight into doing everything possible to embarrass her more."
His mouth tightened. She dropped her gaze. "I'm not proud of what I did."
"Give me a few examples of things that qualified you as an embarrassment." His voice, hard and quiet, had her second-guessing her decision to tell him the truth.
"I refused to get what she called a real job. I babysat and worked at Taco Bell to put myself through college, because she refused to help. Of course, that meant I bought my clothes at second-hand consignment stores, which insulted her and supposedly reflected bad on her as a mother. But, the last thing that pushed her over the edge was when I volunteered at Food Depot. She believed my time was worth more than helping collect food donations for those with low income without receiving any payment in return."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" he said.
"No." She dared a glance at him. "What?"
"Bitch." He rolled and came off the bed. "Seriously fucked up. I'd kill her for what she put you through if she were alive. From what I can see, she should've taken lessons on humanity from you…or h
ell, Professor Frank."
"The man who helped you get off the street?" She sat and pulled the sheet around her.
"Yeah." He shook his head. "How did you—nevermind, the documentary," he mumbled.
"They never mention your father…do you still have a relationship with him?" she asked.
He stopped pacing. "I don't know who my father is. I doubt if my mother did either. She was a prostitute."
Her chest squeezed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. You haven't shared very much of your past with me."
"There's nothing to share. You've seen the documentary. Professor Frank…he was my friend. He saved my life." He rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, "Pisses me off."
"What?" She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Me?"
"No. Your mother. I don't understand how a woman can have someone so precious, a gift from her own damn body, and shun her." He gazed at her. "She didn't deserve you."
Her heart beat in her chest. No one had ever told her she was worth more than the great Carly Flint. None of her business partners, her teachers, or her friends. She held the few people close to her with outstretched arms, because if they knew more about her, she feared they'd reject her too.
"Can I tell you something without you going all scary Nathan on me?" she asked.
"Won't promise you that, doll. I'm wanting to punch something—he raised his brow when she stiffened—I said something, not you."
She patted the bed. "Come here, so I can hold your hands then."
His weight put an indention in the mattress. She scooted closer, dropped the sheet, not caring that she was naked underneath. She held her hands out, palms up, and clasped Nathan's when he offered them.
"I know I haven't made you happy the last few days, but I've had a lot of thinking to do." She inhaled and blew out her breath. "This is hard for me."
"Take your time," he mumbled.
She shook her head. "First, I need to tell you that I lied. Back when I ran away from you after your meeting in the Stewart building, I wasn't sick. Not with a virus."