by Marie Force
I wince. “Yuck.”
“You said it.”
The door bursts open, and Addie comes into the room looking flushed and stressed and stunningly gorgeous. I’m so flooded with relief to see her that I can’t move or speak. “I came as soon as I heard.”
“Hi, Addie,” Mom says. “It’s so nice of you to check on me.”
She rests her hand on my shoulder as she bends to kiss Mom’s cheek. “You’re okay, Jan?”
“I will be. Just a nasty bout of food poisoning.”
“Oh,” Addie says, exhaling in relief. “I’m so glad. Not about the food poisoning…”
“I know, honey,” Mom says, her eyes full of understanding. She knows what everyone was thinking when we heard she was in the hospital again.
I want to lean into Addie’s sweet body, to take comfort from her, but I have no idea where I stand with her. That she obviously came running when she heard about Mom is a good sign, but we still need to talk.
“You okay?” she asks, looking down at me with concern and love. The love is all I see.
“I am now.” Two of the women I love best are safe. That’s all I need to be okay. I can tell she gets what I’m saying, because her expression softens and her eyes do that sparkling thing that happens when she looks at me sometimes. I much prefer that to when she looks at me with disappointment, like she did earlier today.
“Will you please try to get my stubborn son to go home, Addie? He’s refusing to leave when there’s no need for him to stay. I’m absolutely fine.”
Only because I need some time alone with Addie so badly do I allow my mother to talk me into leaving. I bend over the bed to kiss her forehead. “I’ll pick you up when they spring you.”
“I’ll see you then. Try to get some sleep. Everything’s fine.”
She knows what I need to hear. “I will.”
“Thanks for coming. Both of you.”
“I’ll check on you tomorrow, Jan,” Addie says.
“I’ll look forward to that.”
I’m so lucky to have friends, including Addie, who’ve supported my mom and me through the worst of times. No matter how bad it gets—and it’s gotten pretty fucking awful at times—they never judge or condemn, and for that I’m eternally grateful. My emotions are all over the place after the evening I’ve endured. Between worrying about Addie and then freaking out over my mom, I’m drained. Addie seems to sense that, wrapping her arm around my waist and leaning her head on my shoulder as we take the elevator to the lobby.
I’m too undone to resist the comfort she offers, and I’m so fucking relieved she’s okay that I can’t even find the wherewithal to be pissed at her for ditching the security detail. I’ll have to take that up with her at some point, but not now. Not tonight.
“How’d you get here?” I ask her.
“I got dropped off.” She doesn’t say who dropped her off, and I don’t ask, even though I desperately want to know.
I put my arm around her and lead her to the Range Rover, which is parked at an angle due to my earlier haste to get to my mother.
“You want me to drive?” she asks.
“Nah, I will.” The ride to her place is quiet, but it’s a comfortable silence. It’s the kind of companionable silence I could get used to as long as I’m sharing it with her. The traffic is lighter at nearly two in the morning, and I pull up to her building a short time later.
“Come in,” she says. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
“I won’t be very good company.”
“You don’t have to be.”
And there in those five little words is another reason to love Addison York. She accepts me for who and what I am. The realization has me thinking that perhaps she could accept the rest of me, too. I’m too far gone tonight to give that thought the time or attention it will require to fully process.
She gives me the code to the garage, and I pull into one of the guest spots, still wondering if I shouldn’t just go home before I do something to screw things up even worse between us. If that’s possible…
Still in caretaker mode, she leads me upstairs and helps me out of my jacket and begins unbuttoning my shirt. Her mouth is set in an adorable expression as she concentrates on what she’s doing. I can’t resist raising my hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks up at me, seeming surprised by tenderness from me, and I vow to give her more of that. She deserves nothing but the best, and I want to be the one to give it to her.
After my shirt is off, she goes to work on my belt. I cover her hand to stop her. “I can take it from here.”
With her hands on my face, she brings me down for a soft, sweet kiss that destroys the last of my defenses where she’s concerned. I’ve got no fight left in me. I need her so badly. I need her to bring light to my darkness. I need her to bring sense to the madness that surrounds me. I need her to remind me to breathe when life is too much for me.
“Go get comfortable,” she says, her lips still damp from our kiss. “I’ll be right in.”
I do what I’m told because there’s nowhere I’d rather be than comfortable in Addie’s bed. In her bedroom, I use the bathroom and then remove the rest of my clothes and get into bed, covering my eyes with my forearm as this endless fucking day comes to a close.
I’m lost in my own thoughts when I hear her enter the room. She goes into the bathroom and emerges a few minutes later. The mattress dips when she joins me. “Hayden.”
I remove my arm from my eyes and look over to see her wearing a peach silk nightgown that’s almost the same color as her skin. She hands me a glass filled with familiar-looking amber liquid.
“Pappy?”
“Of course.” Smiling, she adds, “Having Pappy on hand wherever you’re apt to be is part of my job.”
“You’re damned good at your job.”
“Drink up. You seem to need it tonight.”
“You have no idea.” I sit up against the pillows and take a drink, sighing with pleasure as the heat of the bourbon travels through me.
“You thought the worst about your mom.”
I note that she doesn’t ask. “Yeah,” I say after a long silence. “Her addictions are so insidious that I always think the worst.”
“Insidious,” she says, her lips pursing in thought.
“What about it?”
“That would make a good title for the film.”
I stare at her, half stunned because she’s exactly right. “Fuck, Addie. That’s brilliant.”
Shrugging, she says, “I do what I can for the people.”
“I can’t wait to run that by the studio. I think they’ll jump on it.” I breathe yet another deep sigh of relief at having that monkey off my back. “Thank you.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“Not just for suggesting a title that’ll be perfect for the film, but for coming to the hospital tonight after the way we left things earlier. I didn’t expect—”
Her hand on my chest stops me. “You can expect that I’ll always show up for you no matter how we leave things between us. We’re friends, and friends show up.”
Overwhelmed by her sweetness, I cover her hand with mine and hold on tight to her while I finish the drink. I put my empty glass on the table and then reach for her, bringing her as close to me as I can get her. I’m not sure which feels better, the silk of the gown or the silk of her skin against mine. Definitely her. Nothing feels quite like she does. My cock is immediately hard for her, but for once, I’m not letting my cock rule me. My heart has far more on the line tonight.
“You gonna tell me where you were all night when I was looking for you?”
“We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“Addison…”
“In the morning, Hayden, but I do have one thing I need to say to you right now.”
“What?”
She swallows hard and takes a deep breath. “You’ve had me followed for the last time. Do you understand me?”
“I was
out of my fucking mind worrying about you.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“No, you’re not,” I say with a chuckle. “You knew I’d go mad looking for you, and you dropped off the radar anyway.”
“That’s not why I did it. I wasn’t trying to make you crazy.”
“Well, you did. I was losing it imagining you in an unsafe situation with nothing I could do to protect you.”
“Give me a little credit, will you? I’m not an idiot. I’d never put myself in danger on purpose.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to tell what’s dangerous in my world, sweetheart.”
“You have nothing to worry about.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. With you, I have everything to worry about.”
“Aww, Hayden. You’re such a romantic. Who knew?”
That makes me laugh when I would’ve said that nothing could make me laugh tonight.
“No more surveillance. I want to hear you say it.”
“Fine,” I say begrudgingly. “No more surveillance. Now can I kiss you?”
“I wish you would.”
I prop myself up on one elbow and gaze down at her precious face for a long time before I lower my lips to meet hers. Addie’s arms encircle my neck, and I end up on top of her for the sweetest, sexiest kiss of my life. All we do is kiss. Our hands remain stationary even as my cock throbs against her soft belly. I can feel her love in every stroke of her tongue, and her fingers in my hair soothe and calm the rage that lives within me.
The rage is exhausting, but I don’t remember a time when I didn’t carry it with me. I remember the red-hot heat of it from the first time my mother OD’d when I was five. It’s intensified with every subsequent incident until it’s as much a part of me as my blue eyes and dark hair. Sometimes I think the rage is partially responsible for my success as a filmmaker. I feel things more deeply than other people do, and that intensity comes through in my work. What I feel for Addie runs through me so deeply I’ll never be free of it, and I don’t want to be.
I ease back from the kiss, running my thumbs over her sweet face. “I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. No matter what else happens, I need you to know that.”
Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “I do know, Hayden. I’ve known that for a long time. I love you so much. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I wish you’d believe me when I tell you that.”
“I want to.”
“You can.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are.”
“Tell me where you were tonight.”
She rubs shamelessly against my hard cock. “Aren’t there other things you’d rather do right now than hear about my night?”
“Just tell me you didn’t let any other man touch what’s mine.” I’ve never said such a thing to a woman before, and to me it’s almost bigger to admit she’s mine than it was to admit to myself that I love her.
“I didn’t let anyone touch me.”
The relief I feel at hearing that trumps every other emotion I’ve experienced during the last insane twenty-four hours.
Her legs curl around my hips in invitation. Her wet heat on my cock is irresistible, and I slide into her slowly and carefully, knowing she has to be sore. Whereas last night was about ravenous hunger, tonight is about sweet love. I almost have myself convinced that I could be satisfied if this is all it ever is for us, sweet vanilla sex with the woman I love.
If only I didn’t know how much more is possible. But for tonight, for right now, this is more than enough. It’s more than I ever hoped to dream possible. She moves with me in an effortless rhythm, her internal muscles snug around my cock, her heat searing and branding me as hers. It’s true. As much as she’s mine, I’m hers. I can no longer deny that, and I don’t want to.
I find the hem of her gown and drag it up and over her head. Her lovely breasts bounce with every deep stroke of my dick. That plus the way the tips tighten into hard beads before my eyes mesmerizes me. Everything about her mesmerizes me. This, right here, is what it means to make love. I didn’t think it would be different, but it is. It’s night and day. It’s my whole heart, soul and body engaged at the same time. It’s what I would’ve said I didn’t want until I had it, and now it’s all I want. She is all I want.
She digs her nails into my back, which is sexy as fuck. Everything she does is a turn-on. Her scent turns me on. Don’t even get me started on those little noises she makes when I’m deep inside her. God, I love them. I push my hands under her to grab her ass cheeks so I can go even deeper. I pull her open to take more of me, and she comes immediately.
I’m not nearly done with her, so I ride the waves of her orgasm and keep her coming by not letting up on the pace. She feels so good that I’m tempted to let go and give in to the need that has me right on the edge of losing my shit. But I want one more from her first. I slow down, press deep inside and stay wedged tight while her muscles work me over. If there’s ever been anything that feels better than being inside Addie, I haven’t experienced it.
Bending over her, I draw her left nipple into my mouth, licking, sucking and biting until it’s standing up tall. Then I do the same to the right side.
“Hayden,” she whispers.
“What, baby?”
“I want you to train me. Teach me. Show me what you want.”
I shake my head. I can’t. I just can’t.
“Please,” she says, her eyes filling. She grasps my face and forces me to look at her. “Please.”
“No.” I begin to move again, faster now, angry at myself and her. She’s asking for more than I’m able to give. If she ever knew what I really want, she’d look at me with fear in those beautiful eyes. I couldn’t bear that, so I take the coward’s way out. I fuck her hard until she comes again, and this time I give in and take my own pleasure, losing myself in her.
I come down on top of her.
She wraps her arms around me, her tears wetting my face. “Why?” she asks softly, so softly I almost don’t hear her. “Is there something wrong with me?”
“God, no, baby.” It kills me that she would think that. “Everything about you is right. You’re perfect just the way you are. I’d be crazy to mess with perfection.”
“I want to be perfect for you. I don’t want to be put on a pedestal to worship and admire. I want to be your equal. Your partner.”
“You’re my equal in every possible way.”
“But I can’t be your submissive.”
“No.”
She pushes on my shoulder. “Let me up.”
I withdraw from her, and she gets up. “Addie—”
“You need to go now, Hayden.” She disappears into the bathroom, the door slamming behind her.
“Fuck.”
Chapter 13
I take a long hot shower as tears stream down my cheeks. I hate him and love him and want him and hate him. My emotions are a big disaster that circles around one exasperating man. I stay in the shower until the hot water begins to wane. My heart aches along with every other part of me as I towel off and put on a robe.
Certain he’s long gone by now, I leave the bathroom and find him sitting on my bed, his head in his hands. He got as far as putting his jeans back on, but his chest is still bare. His defeated pose goes straight to my broken heart. Knowing he’s hurting as much as I am makes it more bearable. But why is either of us hurting when we both know what we want? That’s the part I can’t seem to reconcile no matter how hard I try.
I sit on the bed next to him and put my arm around his shoulders.
“I couldn’t leave it this way,” he says after a long silence.
“That’s an improvement from when you ran away.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Addie, and I hate that I keep doing that.”
“Then don’t. Tell me what’s stopping you from giving us a real, honest chance.”
Releasing a deep breath, he sits up straight.
I k
eep my arm around him, needing the contact and hoping it helps to prop him up, too. He wants to tell me. I can see that. But he shakes his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“When you say that, I want to punch you, and I want to make it hurt.”
A ghost of a smile occupies his lips. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
“You’re not being fair to either of us.”
“I’m sure that’s how it must seem, but I’m actually thinking of you when I tell you it’ll never work. I’ll disappoint you more than I already have. I don’t have the settle-down-with-one-woman gene, Addie. Look at my dad—he’s on his fourth wife, and because all they do is fight, I expect he’ll be telling me any day now that they’re splitting. And my mom—three husbands, three divorces. That’s my gene pool. The Roths don’t do monogamy or the kind of lifetime commitment you deserve.”
“That’s utter bullshit, Hayden. You’re not your parents. If you were, you’d be in rehab with five kids to support. But you’re not. You’re their polar opposite, and you can’t even see that. You’re a successful, productive, healthy man who has many of the same friends he had in high school. You’ve never touched a drug, you drink only socially, and you take care of everyone and don’t even realize it.”
“What does that mean?” He looks genuinely baffled. “Who do I take care of?”
“Everyone! Your mom, Sebastian, Flynn, the Quantum team, me.”
He shakes his head. “I do not.”
“Hayden.” I wait until he’s looking at me. “You do, too. Everyone looks to you for direction at work—and not just when filming—and your mom would be dead without you. You’re a caretaker. It’s who you are. It’s what you do. But who takes care of you?”
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
“Everyone needs someone. Why won’t you let your someone be me?”
“Because!” He gets up and stalks to the glass door to my deck. Hands on his hips, his every muscle rigid with tension, he says, “You think you know me, but you don’t. You don’t know how hard it is for me to…” He buries his hands in his hair, as if he wants to tear it from his skull, and then drops his hands to his sides, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
