“What question is that?” Somehow she’d managed to sound almost calm when she was actually screaming inside.
“Do you think I’m using you? Do you actually believe that ballroom full of strangers who would step over my burning carcass if it meant they could climb up the tenure ladder more than you believe the man you’ve been sleeping with for the last couple of months?”
“No,” she said, holding his gaze. “I don’t think you’re using me.”
“God.” Kane’s mask slipped, the agony and relief stark on his face. “Nadia.”
“It’s going to be all right.” Taking his hand, she led him inside and then upstairs. He needed the make-up sex as much as she did, even if they both knew it would be breakup sex. Even if he didn’t know it then, he would realize it soon enough. Because maybe his colleagues were wrong about him using her, but they were right that she was a detriment to him. If enough of his fellow academics thought that, then the powers that be probably thought the same thing. Kane loved his job at the university and as he vowed he wouldn’t make her choose between him and her friends, she wouldn’t make him choose between her and his career.
Once in her bedroom they undressed in silence, their gazes locked together, heating, stirring the passion that always simmered between them. She drank her fill of the sight of him, this beautiful, handsome man who had so much power over her, power she’d given to him. Power she now had to take back.
“The fifteenth manner,” she murmured as she climbed onto the bed. “From the second set of sundry positions.”
More of the remoteness left his eyes. “Called the pounding on the spot, or more accurately, sitting sex.”
“That’s right,” she said, giving him a true smile. She held out her hand to him. “Will you walk through The Perfumed Garden with me, Kaname?”
He only hesitated a moment before taking her hand. “Walking through the Garden with you is always a pleasure, Nadia.”
He sat on the bed, shifting to the center with his legs stretched out in front of him. She straddled him, looping her arms around his neck and crossing her legs behind his back. Slowly, softly, she covered him with kisses, starting at his forehead, then his nose, to his cheeks, and finally brushing his lips. Sweet kisses, apologetic kisses, good-bye kisses.
His hands splayed across her back as he returned her kisses, just as soft, just as sweet. Taking his time, just as she took hers. Hot licking kisses along her jaw, her throat, her collarbone as he bent her backward so that he could kiss-lick his way down to the rise of her breasts. She sighed when his mouth closed over one nipple, sucking it deep into the warm recess of his mouth while he teased the other to a hard, sensitive peak.
Her hands slid down his shoulders, over the muscles of his arms to the hard planes of his abdomen. She wrapped her fingers around his erection, standing hot and proud between them. He groaned around her nipple as she stroked him with firm pressure, fingers sliding down then up to the head to gather the moisture already there, slicking it onto her fingers before she glided them back down then repeated the action.
He took her other nipple into his mouth, lightly biting down with a delicious amount of pressure that flooded her core and made her restless with want. She wanted to take her time, wanted to savor these sensations, the way that Kane had become an expert on her body so quickly and thoroughly. Need rose within her like a leviathan breaching the waves, making her powerless to everything but the desire.
At his silent urging, she gripped his shoulders, lifting up enough for him to fit the tip of his erection against her entrance. She sank down on him, taking her time, wanting to savor every moment of the heated possession. With every inch of him inside her she sat still, breathing through the fullness, breathing him in, accepting his invasion into every part of her, body, mind, and heart.
He claimed her mouth again as he began to flex against her, short, shallow strokes that sent bright punches of pleasure arcing along her nerves. She undulated against him in return, her nipples brushing against his chest hair, sensitizing them both.
Emotion slammed into her, shattering the fragile dam of her control. Tears welled in her eyes, spilled over as she rocked against him, the sensation sweet-sharp like the thinnest blade slicing into her.
“Kaname,” she whispered against his mouth, not wanting to break the spell that draped them but needing more, needing him. Needing to surrender to him, needing him to claim her one more time. One last time. “More, Kaname.”
He immediately folded his legs then pitched forward, sending her to her back on the bed. Still deep inside her, he threaded his fingers with hers, lifting them over her head. She wrapped her legs high around his waist, settling him even deeper than before.
The first rolling thrust in this new position scraped against her inner walls, sending waves of sensation crashing through her body. She wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn’t. His gaze held hers, demanding she not turn away. It enabled her to clearly see the pleasure in his eyes, but she could also see his pain, his anger, his bewilderment. Lying atop it all was another emotion, something that outshone everything else, something that humbled her and scared her.
That emotion remained uppermost in his eyes as he moved in her, a slow glide out and even slower glide back in, then a rapid motion that left her breathless one moment and wanting to scream the next when he withdrew completely.
She knew what he was doing, staking claim to her body, to her, branding every part of her with every part of him. She surrendered to it, to him, because she couldn’t do anything else. Didn’t want anything else. Kaname was it for her. She knew it to the depths of her bruised and battered soul.
So she threw her whole self into this moment, into being with him, into pleasing him. Offering up everything she could, everything she had, allowing him to take what he wanted because she knew she wasn’t going to offer it to anyone else.
She knew he saw the moment she surrendered. A shudder swept through him, and he had to close his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them again, that emotion she didn’t dare name burned brighter than before, obliterating everything else. He kissed her tears away, kissed her doubts away, kissed her fears away. Showed her the perfection of them together, moving in pleasure together.
It swept her up, higher than she’d gone before, higher than she thought it was possible to reach. Higher than she could contain. He launched her right into the stratosphere and she went, eyes wide and mouth open in a scream of pleasure she couldn’t vocalize, her body seizing with the overwhelming ecstasy that ripped through her.
His fingers tightened on hers a second before he threw his head back and thrust deep one final time. A deep guttural groan shook him as he spilled inside her deep, so very deep that it felt like a permanent brand.
“Kaname.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck as he released her hands, then curled arms and legs around him as if holding him close would keep her from falling apart again.
“I’m here.” He braced himself on his elbows, his hips still circling against her as if he couldn’t help the movement. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move away, and she appreciated it. Doing anything other than holding him was beyond her. All she could do was feel. She tried to push away the fear, push away the uncertainty, to enjoy the moment while she could even though she knew every problem would still be there, naked and exposed in the morning light.
Nadia awakened a handful of hours later, sitting up out of a dead sleep, her heart pounding frantically. Kane sat in the window seat on the far side of the room, a dark shadow against the ambient light filtering through the curtains.
She turned on her bedside lamp to its lowest setting. Soft golden light spread through the room. “Kane. What are you doing, just sitting there in the dark?”
“Watching you sleep and questioning my sanity.”
“Why?”
“Seemed like the appropriate thi
ng to do at three in the morning.”
The bleak anger had returned, wiping out the sensual bliss they’d reached before. She could see it in the stillness with which he sat, the precision of his words. Her heart thumped like an old engine trying to turn over. Looking at her alarm clock, she noted it was nearly five. He’d sat watching her for nearly two hours. Watching and wondering.
She licked her lips. “Did you find any answers?”
“Just more questions.”
His tone made her stomach clench. “I was hoping that we could talk. I could make some coffee, and I have some of those buns you like.”
“Talk.” He huffed out a laugh. “Talk about what? How my girlfriend believed, despite everything I have said and done that proves it to the contrary, that I’m using her for some sexual experiment? Talk about how my colleagues brought out their verbal pitchforks last night as if they’d been invited to go on a monster hunt? Or maybe we should talk about how, as far as you’re concerned, the sex we just had was good-bye sex.”
She hung her head. It was ending. “It doesn’t have to be good-bye, Kane,” she said. “Can’t we go back to what we started out with? A no-pressure reenactment of The Perfumed Garden? Wasn’t it better before we tried to make this into a relationship?”
“There’s no going back, Nadia. I love you. I can’t recork that bottle.”
She gasped, pulling the sheet closer around her and shrinking away. Kane loved her. He loved her, and even though he said it, it sounded like he wished he hadn’t.
“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to say.” He barked out a bitter laugh. “You would be the perfect relationship for most men. A hot woman who doesn’t want anything more from a man than a steady supply of spicy sex. But I’m not most men, Nadia. I want more than that. I need more than that.”
She opened her mouth, but words wouldn’t come. “I can’t—I need time, Kane. I need you to know everything before you can say that to me again. I need to tell you what happened to me—”
He slashed his hand through the air, cutting her off. “If this has anything to do with your past drug abuse, I don’t want to hear it.”
She shrank back from the harshness in his words. “Why?” she managed to ask.
“How many times do I have to say it? It doesn’t matter. That’s in the past. Do I need to give you a play-by-play of everyone I’ve slept with? Hand you my entire curriculum vitae since my first kiss? We shared our tests so you know I’m clean, the rest is immaterial, like your drug abuse. It’s in the past so it’s not important to me.”
Her heart sank. His offhanded dismissal of that pivotal point in her life stabbed at her. So did his steadfast refusal to let her talk about it. Why couldn’t he see that rejecting that part of her past was akin to rejecting her? “It was important last night.”
“Nadia, dammit.” He sighed. “Do you really think I give a damn about what anyone at Herscher thinks about who I’m dating? Do you really think that little of me?”
“No! I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How did you mean it?”
She breathed out harshly, then back in, drawing air into her lungs. One breath at a time, one step at a time, one day at a time. She tried to explain, willing him to understand. “It’s an important part of me. Who I was and who I am. If you can’t see that . . .” A sudden tightness in her throat threatened to choke her. If he couldn’t see that, if he couldn’t understand that, then it didn’t matter if he loved her or not.
He shot to his feet. “What I can’t see is why you’re using something that’s over and done with as a crutch to keep me at bay. It’s a bullshit excuse, and you know it. It’s not the truth.”
That hurt. She slid off the bed, wrapping the sheet around herself. “You think I’m using my past as a crutch? Like I need or want that sort of attention?”
“Then why do you keep bringing it up?”
“Because other people do! No one at that dinner last night wanted to talk about sticky buns or cookies or soda bread. All they wanted to know was why did Professor Sex hook up with a druggie? It’s going to always come up. It’s going to always matter.”
“That’s absurd.”
“What’s absurd is you thinking I need to use my past as a crutch against you. There are easier ways to keep you at bay. I could have just said no on day one.”
“But you didn’t.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You wanted someone to care for you, care about you and burn for you the way you wanted to do. Now that you’ve found that, it scares the shit out of you. Do you know why?”
“I’m sure the professor is going to educate me.”
He didn’t blink at her sarcastic barb. “You’re afraid of losing control, of being controlled by your emotions. It’s okay to be sexually controlled in the bedroom but you’ll be damned if you’re going to give anyone control over your heart. You’re afraid of giving everything.”
“That isn’t true!”
“Isn’t it?”
She wanted to pull her hair out. “I’ve given you everything I’ve got. Why isn’t that enough?”
He released a pale imitation of a laugh. “You haven’t given me everything and you know it.”
“I surrendered my body to you. We’ve explored sexually. You know I care. What else do you want?”
“I want you, dammit! I want all of you, including your heart. I want you to fall for me as hard and permanently as I’ve fallen for you. I tell you that I love you and you practically have a panic attack.”
Said panic attack reared up again, her heart threatening to hammer its way out of her chest. “I can’t do this,” she blurted out. “I won’t be addicted to you, Kane!”
He stopped mid-rant. “Addicted?”
“That’s what this feels like.” She wrapped her arms around herself in a search for warmth. “I can’t think straight when I’m with you. All I can think about is how much I need the pleasure, of what I can do to please you, to see you smile, to make you give me more. I lose myself with you, and that scares me. I lost myself like that once before, and I don’t want to go there again.”
“I’m a person, Nadia. I’m a human being. Not drugs.” His dark gaze pinned her in place. “You said you trusted me. Do you think you’re not safe with me?”
“I feel safe with you, Kane. But you can feel safe and still be lost. You can think you’re safe when you’re actually far from it.”
“That’s fucking great.” He threw up his hands. “I say I love you, and you tell me you don’t know if you’re safe or not when you’re with me. I say love and you say addiction. Why, out of all the women I could have fallen for, did I have to fall for an addict?”
A bright slash of pain struck her, stopping her heart. “I think . . .” She stopped, drew a shaky breath, then tried again. “I think you should leave now.”
“God damn it! Nadia, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did, and it’s okay.” It wasn’t. Not when her insides were crumbling. “We need time and distance to sort through all of this. It’s obvious that trying to make this more than it was meant to be wasn’t a good idea.”
“I get it. It wasn’t a relationship for you. I was just a substitute addiction, something to get you off, a quick hit to get you through your day.”
She flinched. “Kaname, I’m sorry—”
“So am I.” He hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. “You accused me of using you. But who was really using who here, Nadia? Think about that.”
He walked out. He didn’t look back.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Going through rehab had been a horrible experience.
Going through a breakup? Pure hell.
Kane stopped coming to the café. While she understood, it still hurt. The pain . . . she was right likening it to withdrawal. She couldn’t eat, c
ouldn’t focus. Sleep was a distant memory as she obsessively replayed every moment, good and bad, that she’d spent with Kane.
The only thing that helped was working in the café. Baking, making a mess while crafting a confectionary masterpiece, and then restoring cleanliness and order afterwards. The precise measurements of ingredients engaged her mind, rolling and cutting dough enabled her to pound out her frustrations, and restoring her kitchen to clean order gave her a measure of control. On the inside, she felt as if she were treading water. She went to work, chatted with customers, interacted with the staff, and deflected every attempt Siobhan made to get her to talk.
She didn’t want to talk. Talking would pick at the wound she desperately needed to scab over. She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to feel. She didn’t want to face the fact that she might have forever ruined the best thing that had ever happened to her.
She tried to avoid it, and for the most part she succeeded. During the day, it was easy to keep herself busy with the daily operations that running a successful bakery and café entailed. Verifying inventory, placing orders, planning menus. In the afternoon she retreated to her condo and spent time experimenting with new recipes, creating a bakery bible for Jas.
The nights were the worst, the nights and the first weekend. At night the silence pressed down on her, making her more aware of what she was missing, more aware of the emptiness beside her in bed. More aware of the pain that echoed through her whenever she thought of Kane, wondering where he was and what he was doing.
Somehow she made it through the first week. She couldn’t call it a success, but the fact that she didn’t die from her broken heart made her think she would actually be able to survive without Kane. If she kept telling herself that like her recovery mantra, she might actually believe it in three or four years.
Into the second week without Kane she retreated to the office once Siobhan arrived to prepare for lunch. She’d attempted to help her partner with the lunch menu, but after she’d broken into tears over a pot of chicken stock Siobhan had banned her from helping. Now she spent her spare time making plans to overhaul the café’s website. It wasn’t her forte, but she’d keep at it. Anything that would keep her mind engaged and not thinking about Kane.
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