Seductive

by W Winters

  “Kiss me.” I give her the command and her posture relaxes, her composure softening the instant her eyes close, and she stands on her tiptoes to bring her lips closer to mine. I keep my eyes open. I watch as she reaches up with both hands, twining her fingers behind my neck as she pushes her lips against mine. She doesn’t hesitate this time.

  “I love you,” she whispers against my lips, peeking up at me through her thick lashes. The curtains sway and bring with them a sudden gust of late-night air, carrying the faint smells of early spring with them.

  “I love you too,” I tell her, but it’s not enough. They’re only words that don’t compare to what I feel inside.

  I’m sorry I put her through all of this. I don’t admit it though, because more than sorry, I’m selfish and I wouldn’t change it. That’s the most fucked-up part. I can’t live without her. Even knowing how it breaks her.

  “Get ready for bed,” she tells me with a weak smile. The smile that’s not a smile. The fake one she’s always had.

  I’m still fully clothed, shoes and all.

  The wooden floor creaks in time with her deep inhale as she turns from me and I do as she wishes, letting her take the lead although I don’t know how long she’ll want it.

  “Tell me something and I will,” I barter with her.

  “I feel lonely,” she tells me with her back to me and I can only watch as she pulls the sheets back, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Lonely. Lonely like the quiet halls I hate. Even though I’m right here, it’s still lonely. I know she’s right.

  “Lonely?” I repeat as I drop my watch to the dresser, letting it fall where it may with my gaze still pinned on Addison as she strips down slowly, leaving a puddle of clothes at the side of the bed. She does it every night. She has for the longest time. In the morning, she’ll gather them and drop them in the basket. When she has energy; that’s the excuse she gave me when I teased her about it before. The memory kicks my lips up into a small smirk, but it fades when I catch her profile in the dark room, the pale light showing me the lack of playfulness, the lack of happiness she’s always held on to.

  The months we’ve been back here have worn her down.

  “There are moments when I’m okay but they’re so fleeting. Recently,” she adds quickly. “It’s been a lot to take in.”

  “You don’t like being back here, do you?” I question her and that gets her attention.

  Turning to face me fully, she doesn’t even bother to grab the sheets to cover herself as she answers me with shock clear in her cadence. “Of course I do.” She swallows before adding, “I love your family. I’ve always loved them.”

  “Things are different now.”

  “We’re all different,” she comments without sparing a second between my statement and hers. Her gaze is bold, challenging even. “Just because things are different doesn’t mean the pieces I love aren’t the same.”

  I take my time pulling my undershirt over my head and dropping it to the dark wood floor. I strip down to nothing but my boxer briefs before climbing into bed. All the while she watches and waits.

  Taking her hand in both of mine, the hand that still doesn’t have a ring on it, I run my thumb across its barren finger and ask her, “Did you feel lonely before we lost the baby?”

  “No,” she answers me quickly and with a slight shake of her head. “It was after. Even with everyone around us… even with you, I just feel lonely sometimes. Like glimpses of loneliness. And I don’t know what to do to shake it.”

  “You aren’t alone, and this will pass.”

  “I know,” she admits. “I know. It will pass, but I just don’t know what to do in between. I don’t know if I’m able to handle it all.”

  “Do you still want to marry me? You still want to stay here with me?”

  “Yes,” she answers quickly although she’s just as hasty to look down at our hands. Like she spoke without thinking. Like there’s a but.

  “Then why no ring?” I ask her quietly and then clear my throat. “Why don’t you want to wear it? I asked you to marry me weeks ago. You picked out the ring, but you don’t wear it.”

  “Are you going to wear a ring?” she rebuts.

  “An engagement ring?” She nods at the clarification. “Is that what you want? For me to wear a ring?”

  Looking past me and out of the cracked window still bringing a gentle breeze, she admits, “No.”

  “You have to help me understand, Addison.” The frustration in my voice is clear as I run a hand down my face and reposition on the bed as I pull my hands away. “It feels like…you aren’t completely here with me anymore.” Admitting the words makes my chest feel tighter, makes my hands feel colder and numb.

  “I’m trying to be,” she admits with a single harsh swallow.

  “I get wanting to wait to try again,” I say, and she tries to interrupt me but I stop her with a finger over her soft lips. “I understand that. It hurts, but I get it. I get that you feel lonely, because I do too. That’s what happens when you lose someone. And we did. But I don’t understand not wearing my ring. I can wait for you to come back to me and deal with this together; I just need to know that you will or what to do to help you. Losing the baby… I know it’s because of everything else. I know it has to do with being here and that you don’t love it.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “I just don’t know my place.”

  “It’s next to me. That’s your place, with me.” My words are rushed and full of frustration.

  She starts to speak again, but she has to close her eyes and swallow thickly first, reaching out to me. A moment passes with an uncomfortable pang in my chest. The soft tips of her fingers run down my rough knuckles, tracing scars before she kisses them.

  “I want you to wear the ring I got you.” She nods once but she still doesn’t speak, and she doesn’t take her gaze off my knuckles. “I know it’s harder, being around my family when the last time you saw them you weren’t with me.” My words make her still. Every piece of her is frozen as I speak the truth she doesn’t say out loud. That’s why she’s not wearing the ring. It has to be because of that. We came back to the place where she didn’t belong to me.

  “You’re mine now. You’re going to find your place and I’ll figure out how to help you. We’re going to get married. We’re going to have a baby one day.”

  The mention of a baby breaks her composure and I hold her tighter when her face crumples. Kissing her hair, I breathe the words, “I love you and you love me; there’s no reason the world shouldn’t know that. There’s nothing to hide.”

  “It’s not about hiding, it’s…it’s just everything is…” She trails off as she struggles to voice another word and attempts to move away from me, but I put my hand over hers.

  “Just tell me,” I say.

  “It’s never going to just be us. Our past…even right now. It’s more than just us and I am struggling.”

  “Because of Tyler—”

  She cuts me off before I can say more. “No. Your other brothers. Your life. This life.” Breathing in deeper, heavier, she focuses on keeping her breathing steady as she looks me in the eyes to state, “You come with a lot of baggage, Daniel Cross. Some of it, I carry too.”

  “If this isn’t what you want, you shouldn’t have come back.” I can’t describe the way my blood chills and everything hardens. My jaw, my stiff back, the thump in my chest that quiets to a dull ache.

  “I know, it’s all my fault.” The hurt in her voice reflects in her gaze.

  “Stop saying that. We’re in this together. None of this is your fault.”

  She looks like she’ll say something, but all she does is nod slightly, refusing to open up and tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of hers.

  “Don’t keep it from me.”

  “I’m struggling to handle it; I need help.”

  “Tell me how.”

  “I just can’t
wear your ring,” she confesses weakly.

  “What part of not wearing my ring is supposed to help you?”

  “Are you so dense, Daniel?” The contempt is unexpected. “You gave it to me after I found out. You gave me a ring because I was pregnant. That’s the only reason. And we never should have gotten pregnant. It was an accident. I wasn’t ready. It’s my fault!”

  “Addison—”

  “I’m doing my best and I’m highly aware that it’s not good enough. I couldn’t even carry our baby,” she says, and the last two words are a strangled mess between the shuddering sob she holds back.

  “Don’t say that… You are more than enough.” I stress my words, grasping both of her hands in mine firmly and holding her gaze with mine to steady her. “Not a damn thing is your fault. Nothing but keeping all of this from me and letting it tear us apart. You have to talk to me.”

  “You have to talk to me too.” She whimpers the plea as her watery eyes look up to mine.

  “I can do that.” I’m quick to acquiesce to her request. “I can talk to you, but you have to tell me if it’s too much.”

  “It’s all too much,” she admits, “but I still want it. I still want you.”

  The relief that blooms inside of me is instant. It’s everything I needed.

  “One thing at a time.” I wait for her to nod at my words, to know she’s listening. “You are more than good enough. You’re too good for me, but I’m keeping you anyway.”

  “Daniel—”

  “No.” I don’t let her interrupt me. “You got to tell me, now it’s my turn to tell you.”

  “Okay,” she whispers, her grip getting tighter as she waits.

  “You are with me and I am with you. We can’t let each other be lonely. I’m right here,” I whisper against the shell of her ear and then plant a gentle kiss against the tender skin beneath her ear. “We’re going to be okay. You’re going to find your place…so long as it’s right next to me. We have to talk. We can’t hold it in.” I’m careful with my next suggestion. “You don’t know your place, because you don’t know what’s going on. I want to tell you. I want you to know.”

  “The stress…” The words leave her sounding more like a helpless question than a statement.

  “I think it will help, not hurt to know. It’s the not knowing that’s stressful.”

  She doesn’t respond even though I give her time to.

  “Do you think you’d be all right with that? Instead of you asking, I just tell and if it’s too much, you tell me to stop and I will.”

  “Will that help you?” she questions me. The hope in her voice is there, but it’s surprising that it comes with this particular question.

  I almost tell her I’m fine. I’m so close to saying just that. Which would defeat the purpose of all of this. “Yes. It fucking kills me that I can’t tell you what’s eating at me.”

  “Okay then. New rules. You tell me everything unless I say stop.” Fear and hope swirl in her glossy gaze.

  “The loss is something we have to go through together and maybe we’ll have moments where we feel alone, because we were wishing those moments were with the little life we never got to hold. But if you can try to remember I’m here, I hope it will help.”

  She swallows her words rather than responding. I keep going though. I’ll take the lead and she’ll follow. She has to. I don’t know how this can work otherwise.

  “I gave you the ring because I love you. The only reason I didn’t give it to you sooner was because I wasn’t sure you’d say yes. I thought I had a little anchor knowing you were pregnant. It wasn’t an obligation because you were pregnant. It wasn’t that, Addison. Don’t think that.”

  She searches my expression, maybe in an attempt to determine if I’m sincere or not. It’s what I deserve. Years ago, I kept everything from her, for a very long time. Our relationship started with lies, and it’s carried on with secrets. She’ll learn to trust me though. She has to. I won’t give her any reason not to.

  “I want you to wear my ring. I want you to come to bed with me, be with me again, even if you want to be safe and wait to try again. I need you, Addison.”

  It feels like I’ve emptied everything out. Leaving me hollow and waiting with nothing but the hope that she’ll know this is all I’ve got. It’s everything, every bit of me, and I don’t know if it’s enough but I’m damn sure going to try.

  “I need you too,” she finally whispers in the warm air between us, making it feel even hotter than it already is. I’m still on edge, waiting and needing more of her.

  “Tell me we’re going to be all right. That you’re going to be all right.” It’s a command.

  “I’m going to try,” she answers, and I know it’s because she wants to be honest and that she doesn’t actually believe it. She doesn’t know deep in her bones that it’ll work. It never has before.

  “You’re going to succeed. You are meant to be with me, Addison. There’s no way this ends otherwise. I need you and I need my family.” I suck in a breath, ready to tell her if we have to, we’ll leave. We did it before; we can do it again. It’ll kill me, but for her, I’d do it.

  “I need them too,” she says, quick to cut me off. “I want this to work. Not just us; we work, and I love you, but this place. I just…I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know, that’s exactly it. You don’t know anything and that’s the problem. I’ll fix it. We’ll fix this.”

  “I don’t know that I can handle it,” she confesses with a quivering bottom lip. “I’ve never felt so insignificant and weak.” As she speaks, her voice goes dry and cracks at the words.

  “I’ve put you through hell, and you survived.”

  “They’ve gone through worse. Aria—”

  “Don’t compare your story to hers; it doesn’t change your pain.” She’s unraveling in front of me. Six months of being here and I’ve never seen her like this. How did I let it get this bad? “Get on the bed. In the center.”

  “Daniel—”

  “The bed. Get in the middle, now.” I emphasize my words and slowly pull away from her, keeping my gaze pinned to hers. “You can handle it, Addison. You can take everything.”

  Her shoulders drop heavily as she swallows, and her chest rises faster with every breath as she stares back at me. Not moving.

  “I need you, Addison, and you need me. That’s why we’re off, why everything feels wrong. Get on the bed.”

  I’ve never had to repeat myself. She’s always listened before, and staring at her now, not knowing what she’ll do, I can’t breathe. I can’t lose her.

  “On the bed, Addison. Don’t make me tell you again.”

  Addison

  I’ve loved this man since before I knew what love was.

  I’ve craved him, adored him, fucking worshipped him.

  But never like this. An intense heat ignites inside of me, a spark hotter and brighter than the sun dances on every nerve ending in my body.

  I’m paralyzed, needing to feel him take me, own me, and devour me exactly how he wants.

  I need it more than he’ll ever know.

  Slowly, I obey, although I don’t know how. Every movement is gentle and meticulous. My hands reach the center first and immediately my fingers dig into the mattress.

  It’s so slow. Time moves so slowly. A part of me knows it’s because I’m trying to remember this moment. Remember it all and hold on to it forever. I need it in the good times and the bad. In the horrible moments, I need this. What we have right now. I wish I could just stay here forever. Being his and him being so completely mine.

  Bared to him, I wait and watch. His cock is hard and ready as he strokes himself in front of me, pacing, debating what he wants me to do, what he needs from me.

  All the while, those sparks tingle up and down my body in waves of want.

  Instead of climbing on the bed, pinning me down, and ravaging me, he asks me, “Why do I love you?”

  His words are hoarse and at first I he
ar him wrong. I hear, “Why do you love me?” but I catch myself before the answer can leave me.

  “I don’t know,” I answer him.

  Instead of answering me, he tells me to spread my legs wide so he can see me.

  “Fuck, I can see how wet you are from here,” he breathes out deep with frustration as my fingertips run along the length of my pussy and then rub my swollen clit so he can see. A shiver of desire runs down my body from my shoulders to the tips of my toes. It’s cold compared to the heat that burns between my thighs for him to enter me.

  “Why do I love you?”

  I close my eyes, pushing my head back into the mattress, and move my hand away, hating that I don’t know what to tell him.

  I don’t know why people fall in love. I know why I love him though; I want to answer him that. Ask me something I know.

  “Eyes on me. Don’t you dare close your eyes.” His steps are hard as he rounds the bed, getting close enough to backhand the inside of my thigh as punishment. The sting is fierce, but the touch is so needed, all I feel is a spike of desire shoot through me.

  My breath is stolen from his admonishment, seething through my teeth and desperate.

  “Put your fingers back on that pretty cunt of yours and look me in the eyes when you tell me you don’t know why I love you.” There’s no hurt in his eyes, no pain in his voice, even though I feel it, deep down inside of me. Past everything physical, I feel it.

  Tears prick at the back of my eyes as I let my fingers touch my warmth. His gaze parts from mine, only to watch me.

  I have to give him something, so I tell him what I know. I tell him why I love him, praying he loves me the same.

  “You know I’ve wanted you for as long as we’ve known each other. You know I’d risk it all to be with you.”

  My fingers slip just inside my entrance as I start to say the next reason, and a soft moan spills from my lips in its place.