by Force, Marie
“I want a story,” Maddie says, sounding whiny.
“You got to stay up two hours past your bedtime. No stories.” Aileen is firm but loving with her daughter, who apparently knows when to quit. “Sleep tight. Love you guys.”
“Love you, too,” Logan says as he turns to face the wall.
“Love you, Mommy,” Maddie says.
Their sweetness has my emotions all out of whack. I’ve never had such a close-up view of a mother loving her children the way they should be loved. In my world, it didn’t work like this. Mothers neglected their children. Forgot to feed them. Forgot to buy them new clothes when theirs stopped fitting. Forgot their birthdays and didn’t get them anything for Christmas.
Kids in my world never felt safe or loved or coddled or any of the things Logan and Maddie will take for granted because they won’t know it any other way. And for that, I’m thankful. I never want them to know how it could’ve been if they hadn’t had the amazing good fortune to be born to their wonderful mother.
The thoughts resurrect painful memories that I’d much sooner forget than relive, especially when I have so many good things to focus on, such as the sexy, adorable mom who’s turned my life upside down. My trip down horrible memory lane leaves me feeling unsettled—and unworthy. How can I hope to be any sort of positive influence in the lives of Logan and Maddie when I have no idea how it’s supposed to be done? No one ever taught me how to be part of a family.
Queasy and sick with fear that I’ll somehow screw up the sweetest thing that’s ever happened to me, I go downstairs. While I wait for Aileen to join me, I pour a shot of Grey Goose and down it, chasing it with another one. When she appears in the kitchen, eyeing the bottle and the shot glass, I wonder if this is what it’s like to get caught drinking by your mom. I wouldn’t know.
“Drink?”
“Um, sure.”
I fix her a glass of the chilled chardonnay that she likes and hand it to her. She takes a tentative sip, eyeing me over the edge of her glass. “Is everything okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
She puts down her glass. “What happened between the game room and the kitchen?”
Jesus. The woman sees right through me. It’s like she can lift my hood and peer inside where all my secrets are hidden from everyone but her. I consider denying that anything happened, but I already know that’s not going to fly with her. “I was watching you with your kids and thinking about how lucky they are to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have them.”
“They’ll never know how lucky they are.”
She comes around the counter to stand in front of me, looking up at me with those big, expressive eyes. It’s the weirdest thing, but her eyes remind me of a pencil box I was given one year in school when I showed up without any school supplies. It had a picture of a cat on it that had big, kind eyes that made me wish for a pet or someone real who’d look at me the way that cat did. I can’t tell her that her eyes remind me of a paper cat on an old pencil box, but for the longest time, that paper cat brought me comfort when nothing else did. Now I have her and those amazing eyes that look at me and make me feel things I’ve never felt before. Things that scare me.
“Tell me what you were really thinking.”
Stunned, my first impulse is to take a step back, to retreat, to run for the closet. But I have a sinking feeling she’d follow and force me out of hiding. “I don’t know how to do this.” Part of me is angry that she’s forcing me to say things I’d rather not share with anyone—even her.
“Do what?” she asks, the picture of patience and calm.
“Be part of what you have with the kids. I’m afraid I’ll make a goddamned mess of it.”
She places a hand on my chest and takes another step to close the distance between us. “When I came into the game room earlier, you know what I saw?”
I shake my head. I’m so riddled with insecurities that I’m unable to breathe or even blink out of fear that she’ll see me for the fraud I am.
“I saw my daughter, surrounded by a man for the first time in her life. She’s never had anyone who’d allow her to stand on his feet so she could get a better view. She’s never had anyone to teach her how to play Frogger. These might seem like small things to you, but they’re huge to me—and to her.”
The words and the feelings they conjure make me feel raw and unprotected from the barrage of emotion. “This is all new to me. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’re doing great. Do you see the way Logan looks at you? Like you’re a superhero.”
I shake my head. “He shouldn’t think of me that way.” For the first time in my life, I’m ashamed of the things I did to stay alive, things that make me so much less than I want to be for Aileen and her beautiful kids.
“Why not?”
“Because! He doesn’t even know me. None of you do. If you did…” I shake my head, filled with anguish.
“Are my children and I at any risk of harm by spending time with you?”
“No.” I’m almost offended she would ask me that. “Of course not.”
“If we were in danger, would you try to keep us safe?”
“I’d do anything it took to keep you and your children safe.” I’m overwhelmed to realize I speak the truth. I’d literally take a bullet for any of them, and when, exactly, did I start to feel that way about them? I suppose from the beginning, if I’m being honest.
“Then what else do we need to know?”
“So many things.”
“Did those things make you the man you are today? The same man who ran to my daughter’s aid when she was injured and allowed her to stand on his feet while he taught her something new? The same man whose every word my son hangs on, waiting for more? Or the man who makes me want things I thought I’d never have? Did those things make you that man? Because I like that guy so much. So, so much.”
“Aileen.” I drop my forehead to hers. I’m overwhelmed and humbled by her, and falling for her so fast and so hard, I don’t know which end is up anymore. My arms slide around her, bringing her in as close to me as I can get her. She makes me feel like I’m ten feet tall and can conquer the world, as long as I have her by my side.
“Everyone has a past, Kristian. Everyone has done things they aren’t proud of. No one is perfect, least of all me.”
“You’re as close to perfect as anyone can be.”
She laughs. “If you say so.”
“I say so, and I don’t want to hear you say otherwise.”
She curls her hands around my neck and looks up at me. “I know this is all new for you, but you’re doing great so far.”
“Would you tell me if I wasn’t?”
Nodding, she says, “If you want me to.”
“I do. I need you to tell me if I screw up.”
“Can I tell you when you do great, too?”
“I guess.”
“Why is it so hard for you to hear that you’re a good man, Kristian?”
“I don’t know. I guess maybe because no one has ever thought so before.”
“That can’t be true. Your friends think the world of you. I see that every time I’m around you all.”
“It’s different with you and the kids. You guys make me want to be more. Better.”
“You don’t need to be anything other than exactly who you are. That’s enough for us.”
My heart is so full, it feels like it might explode. And then she goes up on tiptoes to kiss me so softly and so sweetly that I nearly break down. I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve her children. But goddamned if I know how to resist her—or her kids. I fall into the kiss, losing my mind along with my heart. I can’t seem to stop it no matter how much I know I should. I’m completely lost to her.
I wrap my arms around her and lift her.
She gasps in surprise, breaking the kiss. “Where’re you taking me?”
“To my room so we can spend some time alone. If that’s okay.”
“It
’s okay.”
“Hold on to me.”
“I love when you say that.” She drops her head to my shoulder and tightens her arms around my neck.
Here, in my arms, is everything I never dared to dream possible until she walked into my friend’s wedding and changed my life forever. It took me a while to realize that’s what she did, but I can no longer deny it, nor do I want to. I carry her upstairs, stopping outside the kids’ room to peek in.
“Are they asleep?” I whisper.
“Out cold.”
That’s what I want to hear as I continue to my room at the end of the hallway, leaving the door open so she can hear her kids if they need her. We can’t do what we did last night, but I’ll take whatever I can get.
Her lips brush against my neck, and I feel as if I’ve been electrocuted. Then she does it again.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” I ask her.
“Mmm-hmm. Very much so.”
I’m never going to survive her if she can make me hard as a rock simply by kissing my neck. It usually takes a hell of a lot more than that to get me fired up.
We stretch out on my bed, and she curls up to me, her body aligned with mine. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Anything you want.” As I rub circles on her back, I remind myself that I’m not allowed to let desire get the best of me tonight. Not with her babies sleeping right down the hall.
“I want to talk about the BDSM and how it works. I want to understand it.”
All the air leaves my body in one long, tortured exhale.
“I did some research today, and I have so many questions.”
“Like what?” I ask, my voice gruff with desire.
“There’re so many different aspects to it, so I guess I’m wondering what you like.”
What do I like? What don’t I like? How can I explain it in a way that won’t terrify her? “I like to control my partner’s pleasure.”
“How?”
I scrub my hand over my face. In all the months since I first met her, I’ve been unable to picture her in the context of my kink, which is another first. Usually, that’s the first place my mind goes when I meet someone who interests me sexually. But that hasn’t happened with her.
She tugs at the hand that’s covering my face. “Do you not want to talk about this?”
“What if we weren’t about that?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean when I’m with you, I might not need it to be more than it already is.”
She ponders that, rolling her lip between her teeth. “From what I read, most people who are heavily into the lifestyle can’t turn it on and off like that.”
“That’s true, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be turned off under certain circumstances.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you want that with other women, but not with me?”
Fuck. I’m bungling this. “No, that’s not it. I’m saying I might not need it because it’s already so much more with you. Does that make sense?”
“Is it because you think I’m fragile? Because I was sick?”
Yes, in part. “No.”
“I’m not fragile. I was sick. I’m not anymore.”
“I know that, sweetheart.”
“I don’t want to be treated differently because I used to be sick.”
“I understand that.”
“So you’ll teach me about what you like?”
Releasing a deep breath, I realize she’s got me cornered. If I decline to teach her, she’ll think it’s because I think she’s fragile. “Here’s the thing… I feel things for you, things I’ve never felt for anyone, and the thought of touching you with anything other than reverence makes me a little sick. It doesn’t make me hot to think about restraining you and denying you orgasms or fucking your ass or clamping your nipples or anything I’d normally do with women who mean nothing to me.”
I glance down to find her face flushed and her lips parted. Fuck, did hearing that turn her on? It seems like it did. I have to know. I dip my hand under the skirt of her dress and cup her mound. Heat radiates from between her legs, providing confirmation that my words aroused her.
“What if I want those things? Would you do them if I asked you to?”
I’m trapped between a rock and a very hard cock.
“Do you want them?”
“I want everything with you, Kristian.”
Chapter 15
I can’t believe I just blurted that out. Way to scare him off. But he doesn’t look scared. No, he suddenly seems almost dangerously aroused.
“Do you understand what it means to be sexually dominated?”
“I think I do, but why don’t you tell me so I can be sure.”
“It means that I control every aspect of your pleasure. I say what, I say when, I say how many times. And you,” he says, tipping my chin up to force me to meet his intense gaze, “you can stop it all with one word that’s agreed to in advance, which means at the end of the day, you’re the one with all the power.”
“Is it okay to tell you that it excites me to think about doing those things with you?”
“Ah, yeah,” he says, his voice rough, “it’s okay.”
“So, you’ll do them with me?”
“Not until you have a chance to see what you’d be getting into. Up close and personal.”
“Where?”
“At our club.”
“You’ll take me there?”
“If you’re sure it’s what you want.”
“I want you, and this is part of you, so I’m sure it’s what I want.”
“I’ll take you to the club. Eventually.”
“Soon. You’ll take me soon.”
“Who’s the Dominant in this relationship?” he asks, a teasing smile curving his lips.
I gaze up at him. “You are. Sir.”
“Jesus, Aileen. You’re playing with fire, and you don’t even realize it.”
I cup his erection and drag my fingernail down the length of it. “Yes, I do.”
He trembles and then he pounces, rolling on top of me and devouring my mouth in a kiss that’s pure sex.
I curl my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips. “Is it Saturday yet?” I whisper against his lips.
His low growl makes me crazy with wanting him. Even at the beginning of my relationship with Rex, before it went so wrong, I never wanted him the way I want Kristian—as if my life depends on having him. I should be protecting myself—and my kids—from the way he makes me feel. I’ve been down this road before and found it pitted with potholes. And with how many times Kristian has warned me off, I ought to be terrified and running away.
But that’s not what I’m doing. No, I’m kissing him and pressing my core against the rigid length of his erection and thinking about the things he said he wanted to do with me and wondering how long I’ll have to wait to be dominated by him.
* * *
Despite my good intentions, I fall asleep in Kristian’s bed and spend the entire night with his arms wrapped tight around me. It’s the best sleep I’ve had since I was diagnosed, and for the first time in ages, I wake ahead of the kids. Thank goodness for that, because I’m not sure they’re ready to see me sleeping in his bed—or in his arms.
I move carefully, hoping I won’t wake him as I make my escape.
His arms tighten around me. “Don’t go,” he says in a voice rough with sleep.
I love knowing what his voice sounds like first thing in the morning. “I have to or we’re going to get caught.”
“Five more minutes.” He presses his erection against my bottom, and I dissolve into a puddle of want.
That’s all it takes.
Then he cups my breast and catches my nipple between his fingers.
“Kristian… Don’t. We can’t do this now, and I’ll be a mess all day if we start something we can’t finish—again.”
His low chuckle makes me smile. “Glad I’m not the only one walking ar
ound in a state of agony.”
“Is it agony?”
“To want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone and not be able to have you? I can’t think of a better word to describe it.”
“Neither can I.”
“Soon, sweetheart. We’ll have an entire night together, and we’ll make it count.”
“I can’t wait.”
His hand is on my leg, moving up and under the hem of the dress I never removed last night. We both slept in our clothes, which is just as well since I never made it out of his bed.
I stop his hand from its intended destination between my legs. If he so much as touches me, I’ll forget that my kids are sleeping right down the hall and will be up any minute.
Kristian groans as his fingers twist around mine. “I really hope you guys like Cecelia.”
“I’m sure we will.”
“Don’t forget that Tenley is coming today, too. She talked to you, right?”
“She’s coming at two.”
“I told her you’re to have anything and everything you want. I want you completely pampered.”
“I don’t need all that.”
“I want you to have it. Let me do this for you. I want our first official date to be special.”
“It’ll already be special because I’ll be with you.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
I’m not sure what he means. “What am I doing?”
“You’re making me fall so hard for you that my head is spinning. The more time I spend with you, the more I want. The more I touch you, the more I crave you. I can’t concentrate at work or sleep or do anything but think about you. You’re making a hot mess of my life.”
Smiling and filled with the giddy joy I feel whenever he’s nearby, I try to get free of his tight embrace. “I’ll just go so you can get back to normal.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he says in a low growl that sets me on fire with longing.
“But you just said I’m making a mess of your life.”
“It’s the best feeling I’ve ever experienced. Please don’t ever take it away from me. I’m not sure I’d survive it.”
