by K. M. Scott
Kristina Richards
My eyes fill with tears that after all that’s happened between us he still thinks of me as the only actress to play the character he’s written so beautifully. I want to believe this means he still cares for me, that we still have a chance to save us.
But when did he write this? It might have been a week ago or six weeks ago. He might have written this while he was in rehab.
While I was busy feeling sorry for myself and selfishly sleeping with another man.
Oh God! I need to find a way to fix the mess I’ve made. I need to convince him he can believe in me again. But how?
I walk to the room he’s hiding in and knock on the door. Even if he tells me to go away, I have to try.
“Ian, please talk to me.”
All I hear is silence from behind the door, but I can’t give up.
“I saw what you wrote about the Silk project. You still think I’m the only actress who should play her.”
His shoes make a heavy noise on the wood floor as he walks toward the door and stops. I brace myself for his anger when he opens the door, but it remains closed. I know he’s standing there just on the other side of it hearing what I say.
Now’s the time to make my plea.
“Ian, please listen to me. I’m sorry I slept with Gavin. I should have been thinking of you while you were going through that hell. I know that. I knew that when it happened. Please forgive me.”
The door opens and I see the rage in his dark eyes. Swallowing hard, he says, “I can forgive you for that. I don’t believe you care about him at all. What I can’t forgive you for is betraying me and ruining my career. I trusted you, and you didn’t keep our secret.”
Everything in his body language screams how he blames me for all that’s gone wrong in his life, and for the first time I realize how hurt he is. I didn’t betray him as a girlfriend. He thinks I betrayed him as his muse.
I touch his arm and even though he wants to jerk his arm away, he doesn’t. Seeing the tiniest chance to get through to him, I plead, “I never told a soul who you were or that Silk was our story. I swear it, Ian.”
“You’re the only person other than me who knew I was T. Anderson and knew about Silk, Kristina.”
“I know, but I never told anyone. I swear. All I told Sienna was that I was dating T. Anderson. That’s it. Maybe someone saw us and figured it out.”
I knew that made no sense, but how could Cilla have pieced together that Ian and T. Anderson were the same person?
“Kristina, someone would have to know you and I were together. You told your friend and she sold her story to that website.”
I lower my gaze and know I have to tell him the whole truth. In a quiet voice, I say, “You’re not wrong about me telling Sienna I was dating you, but I swear I only told her I was with T. Anderson. But my other friend overheard me saying that, and it was Cilla who sold the story. All The Dirt must have done some digging and found out.”
“How? There was nothing to connect my Ian life with my T. Anderson pen name.”
I hate what I have to say now. “I mentioned to Sienna about how I cheated while you were in rehab. Cilla wouldn’t have known that part was important, but that could be how that website made the connection. I’m so sorry, Ian. I just felt so terrible about what I’d done and needed to unburden myself. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
The frown he’s worn since I arrived deepens and his voice falters as he says, “So you told someone about how you fucked another man while I was in rehab and that’s how this happened? First you cheat on me and then because you have to make yourself feel better, you ruin my life.”
We stand there looking at one another and not saying a word because he’s right. Everything that’s happened to hurt him is my fault. I can say I’m sorry all I want. It doesn’t make up for how much he’s lost.
Hanging my head, I nod as he silently closes the door in my face. I have to find some way to fix this.
I slowly walk back to the living room and sit down on the couch again to warm myself in front of the fire. God, if only I hadn’t messed everything up. Why did I have to ruin what we had?
I want to remember when we weren’t so lost. Before I cheated on him and betrayed his trust. Before the drugs. Before I lied.
Closing my eyes, I think back to the night he asked me to be his muse. How special I felt that night. No one had ever thought so much of me, and now I’d smashed all that to pieces with my foolishness.
If only I hadn’t felt so vulnerable and alone that night Gavin came to cheer me up.
So much of Ian and me can be summed up in that tiny phrase. If only. If only I was stronger when he needed my strength the most. If only he hadn’t turned to the one thing he loved more than me.
If only what we are wasn’t so full of madness.
I know I have no right to expect his forgiveness, but deep in my soul I know I can’t give up trying to find some way to convince him that even though our love is crazy and destructive, it’s worth fighting for.
He’s worth fighting for.
I pace back and forth across the wood plank floor as I listen to Kristina walk out to the living room. Her being here has changed everything I felt about her betrayal. If I’d never seen her again, maybe I could have forgotten her or at least been able to pretend I didn’t still love her. Christ, even if I’d had a week alone I might have been able to convince myself I could live without her.
With her here so close, I can’t do any of those things.
Like a coward, I remain hidden in this bedroom instead of marching out to where she sits cozy in front of the fireplace because I can’t bring myself to send her away and I can’t welcome her back with open arms. I want to do both and neither at the same time.
God, I need a fucking drink.
Of course, I can’t do that either since the scotch is out there with her. Fuck. I can’t win, can I?
Maybe I can just fall asleep and pretend she isn’t out there, close enough that I could just take her in my arms and kiss her the way I always did if I wanted to. Good fucking luck with that, right?
I lie down and close my eyes in the hopes that I can push everything out of my mind and drift off into a dream of a time when my life wasn’t this mess. How long had Kristina been so integral to my happiness? Is it possible that it’s only a matter of months that I’ve been so utterly consumed with her?
If only she still brought that same joy to my life that she did in those early days. Now everything I feel for her is tainted with betrayal.
Covering my eyes with my arm, I wish for nothing else but to forget what she’s done to ruin what we were so I can return to being madly and completely in love with her. I don’t want to hold this anger inside me anymore. I miss her too much and want to go back to the way we were before I chose that poison over her and made it necessary to leave her.
Maybe if I hadn’t had to abandon her to go to rehab she wouldn’t have felt so lonely that she turned to another man. More mistakes and more regrets borne out of my addiction.
The scent of rosemary and basil drifts into the air around me, and I inhale deeply, enjoying the smell of whatever Kristina is cooking out in the kitchen. She should have left after how I treated her, yet still she’s here making this cabin more like a home than it’s ever been before.
I look over toward the window and see the blizzard blowing wild outside. Perhaps that’s why she stayed. Of course it is. If we were back in the city, she’d be gone and I’d be alone again.
Taking another deep breath of that delicious smell, the truth becomes impossible to avoid. I don’t want to be alone again. I want Kristina.
And the only way to make that happen is to forgive her.
I slowly make my way out to the living room and sit down on the couch without saying a word. Busy preparing dinner for us, she doesn’t see me at first and I can sneak a look at her without her noticing. In all the time I’ve known her, I don’t think she’s ever looked more be
autiful than she does standing there at the counter with splotches of flour on her face as she makes some kind of gravy for the pork roast the caretaker had been good enough to leave for me.
She hums a song I don’t recognize as I watch her, but she must sense me staring because she looks up and in those beautiful cornflower blue eyes I see the same look of love that’s always been there. That her love remains after how terrible I’ve been to her is a testament to her, not me. I don’t deserve it, no matter what she’s done.
Before she says anything, I look away toward the fire, ashamed at how I’ve behaved toward her. Like always, the words I need to express how I feel seem to be ironically lost.
I listen to her as she stirs the gravy and then sets the spoon down on the counter. The sound of her bare feet padding across the wood floor toward where I sit thrills and excites me, even as I pretend not to notice her. I try to focus on the crackling of the fire as it jumps off the log in the fireplace, but the pull of knowing she stands so close distracts me.
Closing my eyes, I wait for her to say the first word so this silence between us can finally end. A minute goes by without her saying a thing, though, and I open my eyes to see her standing in front of me, still only in her sweater and underwear.
“Please speak to me, Ian. I can’t stand being trapped here with someone who hates me like you do. I’d leave like you want me to, but I can’t yet. I’m trying to make the best of this, even though I know you don’t want me here.”
Her eyes tell the story of her misery. Looking up at her, I quietly admit the truth. “I don’t hate you, Kristina.”
“No, you just don’t care about me anymore, which is worse than you hating me. At least if you hated me I could believe you still felt something.”
“I care. Even though I’ve tried hard not to, I can’t shake you. I can’t shake my addiction to you.”
She hangs her head and in a voice barely above a whisper, she says, “You’re not addicted to me anymore. If you were, you wouldn’t have been able to leave me like you did.”
“I am, but like with my other addictions, I can hold out for a little while before the need presses down on me so bad that I can’t stay away.”
Lifting her gaze to meet mine, she gives me a tentative smile. “Does that mean you can forgive me for ruining your life?”
I reach out and slowly drag my finger down the soft skin of her thigh. “You didn’t ruin my life. You are my life. Before I met you, I was merely a drunken author who had nothing in his life but scotch and success that never filled up the emptiness inside. With you, I was finally happy.”
Kristina drops to her knees and presses her cheek to my leg. Gazing up at me with tears in her eyes, she says, “Oh, Ian, we can be happy again. I know we’ve done terrible things to each other, but can’t we try again?”
My hand glides through her brown hair, and I revel at its softness. So much like who she truly is. Gentle and kind, she never meant to hurt me. I know that now. I should have always known it.
“Yes,” I whisper as I stroke her cheek. “I can’t stay away from you, even if I wanted to, Kristina. Of all my addictions, you’re the one I can’t overcome. The one I don’t want to overcome.”
For a moment, she stays silent while she stares up at me, and I see the happiness fill her eyes, but then she says, “Ian, I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you want to try again. I know everything went bad because of me, but I swear I never meant all that to happen. I made such a mess of everything because I was selfish. I promise I won’t be that way anymore.”
“Don’t say that. It wasn’t all your fault. Come here.”
I pull her up to kiss her lips, wishing I could take away all the sadness I hear in her words. Her mouth melds to mine as I give in to what I’ve wanted more than anything else. More than just my muse, she’s my Kristina, the one soul who knows all my secrets and demons and still loves me.
She cradles my face and whispers against my lips, “I’ve missed you so much. I was worried you’d never speak to me again. I’m so sorry, Ian. I never meant to do anything to hurt you.”
Pushing her hair off her face, I look up into her eyes and nod. “I know. I should have never thought you’d hurt me like that. I should have known better. I’m sorry.”
Tears roll down over her cheeks, wetting my fingertips, but I receive one of her beautiful smiles. “I worried I’d never hear you say something like that to me, do you know that? Then when you were so cold when you saw me standing there at the door, I was sure everything we were had gone away forever.”
“I was a fool, Kristina. I’m sorry. I never should have doubted how much you loved me.”
She buries her face in the crook of my neck and wraps her arms around me, holding me tightly as she sobs, “Promise me we can start over and we haven’t ruined all that we had. Swear to me it can be great again like it was when we met.”
I gently stroke her back and whisper, “We’ll be great again, baby. I promise.”
Kristina leans back and wipes away her tears. “This is just like that first night after you signed my book. Do you remember?”
“Yeah. I remember when I slid my hands down to your ass and you had nothing but a garter belt on. I nearly exploded out of my pants right then and there.”
As I speak, I do just as I did that night and cup her ass in my hands. This time she’s got underwear on, but she still excites me as much as she did the first time she was in my arms. My cock aches to be inside her, and when I slide my finger under her silk panties, I feel how wet she already is for me.
Kristina rolls her hips forward to press her needy clit against my hard cock and moans, “You’re such a tease, but maybe we should wait until after dinner?”
“No fucking way,” I groan as I tear her underwear off with one quick rip. “Dinner can wait. What I want is right here.”
My hands squeeze her gorgeous full ass, and I slip a single finger from behind into her slick cunt. Leaning forward, she slowly runs her tongue over the shell of my ear and moans sweetly as I slide another finger in to join the first, fucking her slow and easy with them.
“Ian, I missed you so much. I felt empty when I thought about never seeing you again,” she says in a voice filled with desperation.
I know exactly how she feels. Every cell in my body felt that same desperation every minute I was away from her.
Kristina rolls her hips and I curl my fingers to stroke that spot inside her I know will bring her the ecstasy she so wants and I so want to give her. She leans back with a look of pure pleasure. I watch as she bites her lower lip in that way that never fails to make her look so fucking sexy and say, “Don’t think about that. Think about how my fingers feel fucking your snug cunt and how much you want to come.”
“I’m so close…right there, Ian,” she coos as I increase the speed of my fingers dipping into her wet pussy.
“Come for me, baby. Let me feel your juices cover my fingers.”
Pitching forward, she presses her mouth to mine in a kiss while a low, sweet groan escapes from her throat into my mouth. One more thrust of my fingers into her and she comes hard, riding my hand with abandon. I watch in rapt adoration as every inch of her gives into the exquisite sensations coming from her core, loving how expressive she is when we’re like this.
Her pleasure is pure and real, and I silently scold that voice inside me for making me question that. When she’s with me, there’s no acting or pretending.
When she’s with me, she’s true to her nature and lets me be true to mine.
As her legs cease their trembling from her orgasm, I slip my fingers out of her. Glistening and drenched with her, they’re evidence of the truth that exists between us.
I bring them to my lips and suck them into my mouth, loving the taste of her as it dances across my tongue. Smiling, I tease, “Almost as good as going down on you.”
“Almost?” she asks sweetly, still subdued from coming.
“Yeah, almost. I like burying my fa
ce in your pussy, but this will do for now.”
Pulling her mouth to mine, I snake my tongue past her lips to find her tongue. I want her to taste what I taste when I eat her cunt—the sweetly musky taste of her.
She settles onto my lap and when she leans away from my kiss, smiles as she says, “That’s a thing with you, isn’t it? You love it when I taste myself on you, don’t you?”
I nod. “Yeah. I love how raw and real it is that you don’t back away from tasting yourself on my fingers or my cock after I’ve been inside you. It makes you even sexier, if that’s possible.”
“I love how you excite all my senses, you know that? I’ve never been with anyone who thought of taste when it came to making love.”
Shrugging at the compliment, I smile. “Maybe it’s because I’m an author. We’re very much about all the senses. But how could anyone leave taste out of being with someone? The mouth is all about tasting. When I kiss you, I taste your tongue and your lips. When I drag my tongue over your skin, I taste it.”
“And when your face is between my legs, you taste me there too,” she says in strangely shy way as she traces her finger over my lower lip, exciting me.
“You mean when my tongue is deep in your cunt licking you until you come all over my face?”
I say it that way to see her blush, and she doesn’t disappoint. Her cheeks turn a soft pink and her eyes widen just a bit at my words, making my cock stiffen.
Touching her cheek, I say, “I love how you get shy when I talk like that, Kristina.”
“No one has ever talked to me like you do, Ian. Everything you say is so perfect. And so sexy. Like when you asked me to be your muse. Nobody else in the world says things like that.”
“My muse…” I whisper and look up into those beautiful cornflower blue eyes so gentle and caring. “I love you, Kristina. Whatever this was when we began it and whatever it became, no matter what, I’ve been in love with you from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
