by Sienna Parks
When I hang up the phone, my stomach starts to churn as I open the message from Logan. I look at the time it was sent, realizing it was three hours after I had sent my last text to him. It said only two words.
Logan: I’m Sorry
Tears well in my eyes at the simplicity of his message.
I quickly dial my voicemail and brace myself to hear his low rasping voice in my ear, and a chill runs through me at the sound of my name on his lips.
Vittoria. Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m calling. We’ve said everything that needs to be said. I’m so sorry for hurting you. If I could take it back… I’d love to tell you that I would… but it wouldn’t be the truth. It’s selfish, and wrong, but I wouldn’t give up a single second that I’ve had with you. The feel of you coming apart beneath me, has ruined me for anyone else. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, and it wasn’t really my intention to say any of that. Fuck!! This is what you’re doing to me, Tori. You have me twisted and conflicted, and I want you so badly my body burns, every minute of every day. I need to put the phone down before I beg you to tell me where you are so I can come and get you. It was never meant to turn out this way. You’re my Nyx. You always have been. You are beautiful inside and out. You excite me and terrify me in the same breath. Take care of yourself. I promise that if we see each other again, I will keep my hands to myself, and I won’t make this any harder on either of us. I’m so sorry.
I’m calling his number before I even know what it is I want to say.
“Vittoria?”
“Hi, Logan. I just got your message.” The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening, but I can hear his breathing, labored and erratic. “I know it was a goodbye speech, but when you said that you were close to begging to come and get me… Logan… I need you right now.”
“I… I can’t.”
“I’m not asking for love, or forever, or even sex. I’m…” I don’t know why I’m telling him this. “I’m back in New York.”
“What happened? I thought you were in Prague for three weeks.”
I can feel my voice thick with tears as I say it out loud. “I got injured. I can’t dance for at least six weeks.” I breakdown into a flood of tears as I let myself feel the weight of it all bearing down on me.
“Oh shit. Tell me exactly what’s going on.”
I take a deep breath before I continue. “I’ve torn the ligaments in my right ankle. I’m pretty swollen, strapped up, and on crutches for the next few weeks. I won’t be able to even begin training again for six weeks or I risk permanent damage. I can barely walk right now, and the thought of not dancing for so long… destroys me.”
“I’m so sorry. What can I do to help? Who’s with you?” I hesitate, knowing he’ll be annoyed. “Vittoria. Who. Is. With. You?”
My voice is a whisper. “No one knows I’m here, or that I’m hurt. I can’t face them. They would be all over me, and wanting to talk it to death. I just can’t deal with that. I’m holding it together by a thread as it is.”
“Not even Carter?”
“Especially not him. He would have me moved into his apartment immediately and I would be on bed rest with him fussing over me. He might even be worse than my mom.”
That makes him laugh. “Well, I don’t feel good about hiding this from him. It took me a long time to earn back his trust.” I can feel the pangs of guilt, strangling my insides, but I just can’t face him right now.
“Please, don’t tell him. He’s done enough worrying about me to last a lifetime. He has enough going on with Addi and Verona, and work. I am NOT adding to that. Please.”
“Fine. But I’m coming over to look after you. My flight gets in late tonight, so let your doorman know I’m coming.”
My heart skips a beat. “You don’t have to do that. You said you didn’t want to be around me.”
“I know what I said, Vittoria. Don’t argue with me. I’ll be there around 11 p.m. You shouldn’t wait up for me, you need your rest, but I’ll be there when you wake up.”
I pause for a moment. Letting his commanding voice wash over me. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Now go and rest. I’ll see you soon. Bye.” He hangs up the phone before I have a chance to say goodbye. My head is spinning as I lie back down on the bed. Logan is coming here, tonight. He wants to look after me. I feel terrible for imposing on him, but more so, I’m elated that I’m going to see him again.
I spend the day drifting in and out of a drug induced slumber; dreams and visions of Logan dancing in my head. I don’t even get out of bed to eat. I simply take the painkillers the doctor gave me, with a sip of water, and let myself be pulled back into the darkness. I feel comfortable there. He’s there. My dark defender.
I feel like my flight took twice as long as it should have. Normally I can sleep from takeoff to landing without a problem, but today was different. Not only do I have the boys from Flaming Embers flying back with me, high on the anticipation of their future success in the U.S.A., but my mind is racing with the knowledge that I will be seeing Vittoria tonight. My focus should be solely on the band. I’ve worked so hard to get this deal together, and it will be huge for them, and for the label. I need to give them my full attention, and yet, I’m already preoccupied.
I couldn’t let her stay in that apartment alone, not telling anyone that she’s injured, or even that she’s in the country. Dancing is everything to her, and if she made her ankle worse by struggling through without help, I could never forgive myself for knowing and not doing anything. I should have called Carter, but the pleading tone in her voice stopped me, and she was right when she said that his plate is full with all things Addi. Those two are the perfect storm. So good together, and yet toxic in their own self-sabotage.
Once I get the guys settled in their new apartment, I stop at my own to drop off my luggage and grab a quick shower, before packing an overnight bag and heading to Vittoria’s apartment.
When I arrive in the lobby, the doorman is waiting with a key and a smile, telling me to let him know if Miss de Rossi needs anything else. I thank him and make my way to the elevators. I’ve never actually been inside Vittoria’s apartment in all the years I’ve known her, and I’m curious to see her little piece of Manhattan, but when the elevator stops on the twenty-fifth floor, I’m reluctant to step out. I know that I must exercise complete control while I’m here. I can’t give in to the way I feel when I’m around her. She needs me to be strong enough for both of us.
I quietly turn the key in the lock, trying not to alert her to my arrival. It’s well after midnight now; the apartment is silent and dark except for a small lamp in the corner of the living room, which she must have left on for me. That small gesture isn’t lost on me, and I take a moment to take in my surroundings.
The air is infused with the light aroma of her perfume, tantalizing my senses, intoxicating me.
I’m torn from my reverie when I hear muffled noises coming from down the hall, and my body reacts in an instant. I’m drawn to her. My heartbeat races and my pace quickens. A tiny sliver of light creeps out from under the door, lighting my way, as her noises become louder and more urgent. She sounds pained. I don’t want to scare her, so I slowly open the door and slip into the room.
She is a vision of beauty in the center of the bed, but she’s restless and unsettled.
I’m reluctant to wake her in case it makes the nightmare she is obviously having, any worse. Instead, I make my way over and slowly sit on the edge of the bed beside her. I can’t make out what she’s saying, it’s too jumbled and frantic, so I gently reach out and stroke her hair, hoping that it will calm her down. She reacts to my touch almost immediately. Within minutes and without waking, her body relaxes, her rambling stops, and her breathing evens out. It’s only then that I realize I was holding my breath. I take a moment to relax, rolling my shoulders to relieve the tension, before kicking off my shoes and lying down beside her. For someone so small, she manages to take up a lot of space in a king si
ze bed! I find myself balancing on the edge, certain that I’m going to fall on my ass at some point during the night, but I don’t want to leave her here alone. I can’t.
I lie on my side, staring at her for the longest time, wondering what terrorizes her in her sleep. I think about how much pain she must be in both physically and emotionally right now with her injury; the crutches by the side of the bed, a devastating sight. My mind is racing with thoughts of our time together, and the last time I saw her. I still don’t know how she found out about me, or exactly what she knows. Her texts hinted that she runs in the same circles as me, but if that was the case… I just can’t believe that she is a Dominatrix or even a submissive, and I’ve never seen her in the clubs. I would have figured it out.
Then it hits me – what if she’s a Dominatrix? Surely not. She is so submissive with me, but she is strong and assertive. She was the one that pushed in Verona. Maybe she was giving me what she thought I wanted. If she is, then we are even more incompatible than I thought. I need to believe that isn’t the case. I told her we can never be together, but the moment she said those words, when she called me Master, I let a small part of myself hope.
I have talked myself out of being with her for so many reasons, so many times. She’s Carter’s sister, and it’s taken me a long time to regain his trust after last year. He’s never going to accept me as the guy for her. I still believe that she is too sweet and innocent to be open to what I have to offer. I know that what I do isn’t wrong, but I know that I’m not good enough for her. I can’t be everything that she needs, but ever since the airport, I keep coming back to the same thought, over and over again, until it drives me crazy.
I crave her with every fiber of my being, and if there is even a chance that she is a submissive, then I will make her mine at any cost.
Consequences be damned.
The thought of her with any man makes my blood boil, but with another Dom, that makes me feel downright homicidal. I feel so conflicted that it’s a physical pain in my body. I throw my hand up over my face, lying flat on my back as I struggle with the images that plague my mind. I must have disturbed Vittoria, because she moves toward me, her arm sliding across my abs as her head finds that spot between my chest and my arm where she fits perfectly, as if she was made for me; the missing piece. I slide my arm around her, pulling her closer. If I were exercising complete control, like I told myself I should, I would extricate myself and go to the guest bedroom, but it feels so fucking good to have her in my arms. I’m selfish and greedy for anything and everything I can get when it comes to her.
I don’t know if she’s awake or sleeping, but she murmurs my name as her body settles against mine and I love the way it sounds. I let all the shit that’s going around and around in my head just fade away. I savor this moment, this girl that I am lying next to, and I let myself drift into a deep and contented sleep with her nestled at my side.
“Logan… Logan…” I can hear Vittoria’s voice whispering in my ear as I wake, and without opening my eyes I know it’s morning. The sun is streaming in through the curtains as I open my eyes and find her staring back at me. “Hey, stalker. What do you think you’re playing at creeping into my bedroom and sleeping with me? I thought you were all about the distance.” She has the cutest smirk on her face as she says it. Playful and sexy in one look. I don’t know how she pulls it off, but I love it.
“I was… I am. You confuse me. I can’t think straight when I’m around you. I only came in to check on you last night and, well, you can see that it didn’t quite work out that way.” I’m painfully aware of the morning situation going on in my pants, as is Vittoria. I quickly adjust myself and put some distance between us. The smile on her face fades, and I desperately want to fix it. “How about I make us some breakfast? What’s your favorite?” That distracts her.
“Mmmm. Pancakes with fresh cream and blueberries on top, but I rarely have them. Too many calories to burn off.”
“There isn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on your body. I think we can make an exception this one time, don’t you?”
“Well… I shouldn’t. I won’t be able to dance it off later. Or any time soon.” The pain that I see flash in her eyes is soul destroying. “Fuck it! Let’s go to IHOP.” She attempts to get out of bed, but I can tell she’s in agony.
“Get back in bed. You’re not going anywhere. I’m going to make you pancakes, and they are going to be much better than anything you’d get at IHOP. Trust me!”
“I do.” Those two words, and the sultry tone of her voice, slays me.
“I’m going to go to the store and get what I need. Is there anything else you would like while I’m out?” She shakes her head, reaching for the tablets and water on her nightstand. “How often do you need to take those?”
“Every six hours, at least for a few days and then I can take them less often, I hope. I hate taking tablets. They make me gag.” I can’t help the small grin that is on my lips. “Why are you smiling? You like that I’m in pain?”
“No. God no. I hate that you’re in pain. I was just making a mental note that you have an active gag reflex!”
She sprays water all over the bed as she laughs. “What the hell, Logan? You can’t just say stuff like that! I don’t know where I am with you from one minute to the next.”
I hang my head in shame, knowing that she’s right. I’ve given her so many mixed signals it’s ridiculous. “I need to go and make you something to eat if you have those tablets in your stomach. We’ll talk properly later. Do NOT get up, or try to do anything while I’m gone. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.” She gives me a mocking salute as I leave the room. How does she do that? She can be so real and raw and vulnerable in one moment, and then making fun of me and joking the next. And she says I make her head spin!
I go to the closest store I can find, grab what I need, and while I’m at the counter waiting to pay, I remember that she loves Milk Duds, so I throw three boxes in the basket, hoping they’ll make her smile.
When I get back to the apartment it doesn’t take me long to whip up a batch of pancakes and get everything else ready, just the way she wants it. I head to her room to tell her that breakfast is ready when I hear cursing in the bathroom.
“Shit! Vafanculo!!” [What the fuck!!]
“Are you okay in there?”
“No, I’m NOT okay!! I can’t even get in the damn shower.”
“Open the door.” I hear the small click and her face appears with tears in her eyes.
“I hate this. I hate not being able to do things. I…”
I pull her into my arms and hold her tight as she breaks down. “It’s okay. It’s only been a few days. I’m here to help now, and soon you won’t need me for anything and you’ll be back training in no time. But for now, can I get you fed and then we’ll worry about getting you clean?”
“Okay.” It’s barely a whisper.
I scoop her up into my arms, careful not to hurt her ankle in the process, and carry her through onto the sofa in the living room. “I’ll bring it over.”
“I can sit at the table.”
“Humor me. I want you as comfortable as possible, and you need to keep your ankle elevated.”
“God! You’re as bad as Carter. If I wanted to be fussed over, I would have called my family.”
“If you wanted to be left alone, you wouldn’t have told me, so just get over it and let me help you.”
We eat in companionable silence, but as soon as she finishes her last bite, she’s questioning me.
“Thank you for that. They were yummy, and you were right, they were better than IHOP. I’d love to find out where you learned to cook like that, but I’m too impatient, and I want to know why you’re here.”
“You need help.”
“Okay, Professor Obvious, but you could have called Carter or my mom and told them what’s going on. Why are you here?”
I scrub my hand over my face, two days of stubble scratching at my palms
as I try to come up with an answer. “You asked me not to tell them, and I wasn’t going to let you stay here alone, so here I am. You’re my best friend’s sister, and I’ve known you forever. If something happened to you and I could have prevented it, I would never forgive myself.”
“Wow! You’re really playing the ‘best friend’s little sister’ card right now?”
“It’s not a card. It’s a fact.”
“One of which I’m painfully aware.” She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, unable to get up and walk away from me. “Well, you’ve done your duty, I’m not going to starve to death. You can go. I’m not a charity case, and I don’t need your pity.”
I grab her face in my hands. “This isn’t goddamn charity, or pity. You already know the answer, so spare me the dramatics.”
“Do I? I don’t know which way is up with you. I’m a friend, I’m your friend’s sister, and then I’m sprawled on a table with your cock in my mouth. You want me, you don’t want me. You love me, but you want to stay away from me. You kiss me in the airport and then you freak out when you realize I know about you. Now you’re here, apparently against your will, but I woke up with you in my bed this morning. What the hell is going on, Logan?”
Hearing it coming from her, I sound like even more of an asshole than I already feel. I let her go and slump back on the couch.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want your apologies. I want an explanation. It’s driving me nuts.”
“Okay, okay. First, you wanted to have a shower. How about I run you a bath so you don’t have to put any weight on your ankle, and then we can continue this conversation?”
