by Nashoda Rose
“You’ve got to be kidding.” I laughed, shaking my head back and forth. When I looked at him he wasn’t smiling, he was dead serious. Could I let him in completely? Would he do the same? He liked control and it wasn’t just sexually. He had demons and yet, he’d told me little about them except his sister dying. I wasn’t the only one hiding and for us to even have a chance, to build trust again, he’d have to let me in too.
He sped onto the highway and merged into traffic. “No sex until you agree to be mine.”
“Yours? That sounds a little chauvinistic.” More like the size of a killer whale chauvinistic.
He shrugged. “It is what it is, Kat. And it goes both ways. But I’m already yours, so that part is done.”
I thought about what he wanted. It was so ridiculous that I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I mean, us together—alone—and no sex … that wasn’t going to happen. But he wanted more than that. Ream wanted control over the next two days. No arguing with him, just trusting him to give me what I needed. The thought made me uneasy because I hated being taken care of and the thought of giving him that made my heart race and my stomach churn.
The only way this would work was if we had sex because being alone with Ream … well resisting him would be painful. “I want to have sex.”
“No.”
“Ream that’s what there is between us now. We both know it.” There was more, at least there had been. I just didn’t know if it was possible to find that again. The thing was … hope was beginning to blossom.
“That’s where you’re wrong. We were friends first and we’re getting back to that.”
“I can’t just be friends with you.”
“We’ll see.”
“Ream.”
“Kat.”
I crossed my arms. Shit, he thought he could do this? Spend two days together and do nothing but what … talk? Ha. “Fine. You can have your weekend. No sex and no arguing.”
He chuckled. “Wasn’t asking, baby.”
Gah … I so wanted to smack that arrogant smirk off his face, but then I wanted to kiss it and crawl on his lap and …
How hard could this be? I wasn’t scared of much. He could be taking me bungee jumping and I’d be ecstatic. But I was apprehensive about the no arguing part, because ... well, I was good at it.
I hoped he was taking us to a spa. Now that would be wicked, plus I could escape him by going into the ladies’ room anytime I wanted. God, we clashed all the time. There was a history of hurtful words and anger and I felt like all we had left was this sexual chemistry and the rest was gone. That wasn’t a foundation … that was quicksand.
“We’re incompatible. You know that right?” We may want one another, but it didn’t mean it could work.
“We’re not incompatible, Kat. We’ve just lost our way.”
“We’re arguing right now.”
“No. We’re discussing. And do you really want to go there? Because I have you in my car, no one knows where we’re going, and I confiscated your phone from your purse while you were kissing me.”
“Shit,” I grabbed my purse off the floor and started digging through it. No phone. “Why?”
“Because you’re so focused on making certain no one is looking after you that you think every time they are, there’s some underlying reason for it. You’re hiding your MS because you’re so goddamn scared everyone will think you’re weak, but, Kat, it’s backfiring. You’re weak because your real emotions are locked up so tight that you don’t let yourself do the one thing that you claim you’re doing—living.”
I snorted and tossed my purse on the floor. “You have no clue, Ream. No fucking clue. That’s so not true.”
“Did you cry over what that bastard did to you? He fuckin’ touched you, Kat. He cut your face and beat you. Did you ever cry?”
I stiffened. “What?”
“You heard me? I was in the hospital with you and not once did I see you cry. A guy fuckin’ did that to you and you didn’t cry. A week at the farm … not once did you break down. You control everything about your emotions. You don’t take one moment for yourself and let what you’re feeling in.” He looked over his shoulder as he changed lanes. “The only time I see you lose control is when you’re angry. Tell me, Kat, when you were diagnosed, did you cry?” Oh God. “Did you feel sorry for yourself for five minutes? My guess is you didn’t.”
“I cried when Emily came home.”
“That’s exactly it. You cried for her. But never for yourself.” He looked at me and I quickly looked out the side window. “I think it’s great you’re taking control over this disease, baby. But you still need to grieve. You need to tell the people that mean the most to you and stop trying to control what they will do if they knew.”
I remained silent. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t want to hear it.
“So my advice, don’t argue with me this weekend. If you do … then you’ll find out what being turned on and not having release is.”
Holy shit. “Are you kidding me? You can’t do that?”
He nodded. “Sure I can.”
Fuck, I didn’t like the sound of that. Double fudge brownie cookie-dough fuck. What a bastard. “I hate you.”
“We’ll see.”
I didn’t like the sound of that either.
***
Why did she always have to wait for me?
I was so sick of her pity. Of her constant need to be around me.
She was standing at the top of the stairs, and I wanted to push her down them. I hated that she knew where I went. It was almost like she was glad I was trapped there.
I hated that she tried to comfort me.
There was no comfort.
I didn’t want it.
I didn’t want anything. Not from anyone.
Something nudged my shoulder, and I pushed the offending disturber away with a flick of my wrist. I rubbed my head against the hard glass trying to get comfortable again when suddenly my glass pillow was taken away.
I opened my eyes and saw Ream standing outside the car, his hand on the door, his faded blue jeans snug against his muscular thighs, and damn he was too delicious to resist with a sleepy head.
“Let’s go, beautiful.”
I unclicked the seat belt and it snapped back in place. He had a black bag thrown over his shoulder, and I hoped like hell he had packed my comfy pajamas. The ones they’d taken me to the hospital in, I’d asked Matt to burn. He stepped aside as I slid out of the car and took in the surroundings.
Shit. It wasn’t a luxury spa. It wasn’t even a hotel. It was a tiny cottage surrounded by … I breathed in … pine trees. The car door slammed behind me, and then I heard the crunch of snapping twigs under his feet as he walked toward the cottage—better description: shack.
“Really, Ream? If you were trying to win me over, this certainly isn’t doing you any favors.” I stayed by the car afraid to leave the luxury.
“Get your ass moving, Kitkat.”
The three porch steps he stepped on creaked under his weight, and I imagined he’d fall right through them before the weekend was up. Why the hell would Ream bring me here? There was nothing quaint about the place. Shit, the place needed a coat of paint and … he better not have brought me here to paint.
“Inside.” He held the rickety screen door open for me, the metal hinges making a sharp shriek at the slightest movement.
I grumbled under my breath as I stepped past him.
Surprise lifted the dread of walking into a daddy long-leg sanctuary plagued with webs and dust. Instead, I was greeted with the aroma of fresh cut flowers, lavender, and fresh bread. The hardwood floors sparkled. The small but modern kitchen had a European feel with the stained glass backsplash tiles and dark mahogany cupboards. It opened up into a living room that had a big bay window looking out onto a deck which overlooked the lake.
“Okay, not as bad as I thought.”
I shivered when he came up directly behind me, his hands resting on my hips. “Gla
d you semi-approve. Not that it matters if you did or didn’t.”
“Smart-ass,” I retorted.
“Mmm,” he murmured. His hands slipped away and he strode into one of the three rooms off the living area.
I could see a bed with a white duvet and soft beige throw pillows. There was a painting above the bed of a woman walking along the beach, the water coming in to glide over her feet.
“So whose place is this?” I asked, kicking off my shoes and plopping down on the bar stool at the narrow kitchen island that also doubled as a place to eat it seemed.
“A friend.”
“Well, since I know most of your friends, then I must know who it is.”
“You don’t know this one.”
Oh. “A girl?”
“Jealous?”
“No. Curious.” He took clothes from the bag then placed them in an old dresser. Ream ran his finger slowly over the butterfly tat on his right arm, the one similar to the tat he just got for me. It looked like an unconscious gesture, and I’d seen him do it before. I thought of what he’d called his sister. His little angel.
“Why do you do that?” And curiosity can’t kill the cat.
“Do what, babe?”
“Touch that tattoo all the time. The one on your upper right arm. Is it your sister?” He shut the dresser door and stood up straight watching me. I watched back. Then I grew uncomfortable under his gaze and went to explore when his voice stopped me.
“Now I have both of you on me.” That was all he said. “Come here.”
I really didn’t want to. I mean I was feeling anxious and … yeah, completely turned on and keeping my distance was a damn good idea when there was a no sex rule. Why was it that you thought of something more when you knew you couldn’t have it? “I’m going to go explore—”
“I said come here, Kat.”
“Why?”
He wasn’t smiling. He was serious and I finally realized what he meant by no arguing. Oh shit. I was so not good at following orders. It was like it set something off inside me telling me to rebel.
“Kat.” His command—and it was a command—was stern and direct. I thought about it for a couple of seconds and then got up and walked toward him.
I stopped in the doorway. Why was my breathing faster? I shifted uneasily under his intense gaze, feeling as if he was undressing me with his eyes. Shit. The ache started in my belly and then the throbbing went lower and that tightness between my legs that made me want to say fuck this and jump him … yeah, it was screaming at me to do something.
“Get ready for bed. It’s late.”
I saw my little pink makeup bag but no pajamas. “Umm, did you forget something?”
He leaned back against the dresser and crossed his arms. “No.”
“What am I supposed to sleep in? Nothing?”
He didn’t say anything.
Shit. And he wanted to skip the sex part of the weekend. Who was he kidding? “Give me one of your shirts.” I held out my hand, expecting he’d give in to my demand. Instead, he snagged my hand and pulled me into him until I was snug against his chest.
When I raised my head to glare at him, he was already looking at me and his eyes were smoldering. He cupped my chin, his thumb stroking my cheek slow and gentle like a pendulum. “No shirt. You can wear your panties to bed … if they’re sexy.”
If he hadn’t been holding my jaw, it would have dropped. Instead, he lowered his head until our lips were so close that if I puckered they’d touch. “Never clothes in bed, baby.”
I glared and then relented because it was he who’d be the one breaking his own rule. I could do this. “Fine.” I easily stepped from his arms, well, easily meaning he chose to let me go.
I started unbuttoning my blouse, taking my time making sure he could see every inch of my skin being exposed bit by bit. When I got to the last button, I let the blouse fall open and then slide down my arms to the floor.
His jaw clenched then unclenched, eyes watching, expression stoic, and yet I witnessed the swelling in his jeans. No sex rule, my ass. We were not lasting the first night. I undid my jeans and with a slow bend at my waist, I caressed my thighs with the denim as I sashayed them down and stepped out of them.
I thanked God I was wearing my turquoise lace thong with matching bra because damn I wanted to look and feel hot in the body department since my face was … well still on the mend.
I glanced back up at Ream. Big mistake. His eyes were swimming with so much desire that it swept me up and took hold of my insides and brought me into him. Damn. He hadn’t even touched me and I wanted to touch myself to stop the ache that pulsated mercilessly. I had the control. I had it and now it was slipping through my grasp like sand.
I turned around to undo my bra.
“Face me,” Ream ordered.
My bra unhooked and fell forward. I slowly turned, expecting his eyes to be on my breasts. They weren’t. They were locked on my eyes. “Even just undressing, you’re fighting the entire time to take the control. You’re so intent on being strong that you’re not letting go when you need to.” Ream stepped toward me and I was breathing so fast that my chest heaved in and out. He stopped inches away, so close that I could feel the fibers of his clothes tickling my hairs that stood at attention. “When did you get the ink, baby?”
It was after he left for the tour. Everyone was gone and Georgie and I had decided a little pain was a good idea. It was my first one and I loved it, a tribal horse on my side over my ribs. He traced the ink with his finger and shivers caressed my skin.
I barely breathed as I roughly whispered, “No sex.”
Ream grinned. “Oh, baby, I know the rules and I won’t be breaking them either.” He nodded to the bathroom. “Get ready for bed.”
I took a deep breath about to argue when I realized there was nothing to argue. I picked up my pink travel bag and strode into the adjoining washroom and closed the door. It was only when I was alone that I let the emotions come down on me. I rested my hands on the edge of the counter and stared into the mirror and what I saw completely terrified me.
I felt vulnerable to the emotions creeping up on me. He was taking control … No, he already had it and that meant he could open me up to emotions I didn’t want to face. I wanted us to have a chance, but in order to do that I had to let him in—completely.
I abruptly turned away, brushed my teeth, relieved myself, then went and crawled into bed. Ream wasn’t around and I was glad because if he saw my face, he’d know what I’d seen in the mirror.
I pulled the sheet up over my shoulders and nested it between my legs then fell into an exhausted sleep.
***
I woke up so friggin’ hot and sticky, as if I was lying in a sauna. I tried to push the duvet aside, but it wasn’t a duvet, it was Ream and he had his arm snug around my waist, his leg hooked on top of mine while the long length of his body pressed up against my side.
Shit, I was at the cottage-shack-cabin-thingamajig. Alone. With Ream. And I was in my panties and he had his leg thrown over my thighs—his naked muscular leg.
Holy damn. When did he crawl into bed? God, was he naked? Did he at least have boxer briefs on? I’d go with that. But my mind had already far surpassed that thought and was onto him being naked and his cock hard up against me while his lips were nestled against the base of my neck.
I had a choice: I could quietly turn and slip his cock inside me or quietly climb out of bed. I chose the second option because, really, I needed some control here and being stubborn, I wanted Ream to be the one to break his rule first.
I placed my hand on his wrist then gently tried to lift it from me. It was like lifting a barbell strapped to the floor. It wasn’t moving.
“Go back to sleep, beautiful,” he mumbled against my neck. The vibration of his lips sent a shiver of pleasure through me. I really needed to escape fast.
“You’re breaking the rules.”
“Since when is sex, sleeping?”
“Wh
at? No. It’s not, but you’re naked and it’s close enough.”
He chuckled then nibbled on my shoulder. “Oh, baby, there’d be no question you’d know if I was inside you.” Yeah I would. “Go back to sleep.”
“I want to get up.”
He sighed and pulled me in closer. “Do you ever stop fighting?” His voice was that rough, lazy morning voice, and it was making me wet. Who was I kidding? I was already wet. “Where’s the fun laid-back chick I once knew? I want her back.”
“Lost,” I mumbled, not expecting him to hear me.
“Then we’ll find her,” he murmured against my shoulder where he was sprinkling kisses.
Shit. “I want to get up, Ream.”
“You have to piss?”
“No.”
“Then you’re staying here. I’m not ready to get up, and you need to learn to relax and sleep in.”
“I never sleep in.”
“Bullshit. We spent two days in bed.”
“Since when is sleeping, sex?”
“Mmm.”
He moved his leg up farther on my thigh, and his cock was there, unrestrained and ready. Nope. No boxer briefs—shit. I tried to shift away because seriously the throbbing between my legs was so close to diving off the cliff that if he touched me with one finger, I’d be screaming in ecstasy. He tightened his arm and tugged me back in. Then he had the nerve to chuckle.
“Go to sleep, Kitkat.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Then lie here and think of me fucking you.”
“Ream, that’s ridiculous.”
“No, you’re being ridiculous for not shutting your mouth and just enjoying cuddling.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Never said I wasn’t. Now close that sweet, fuckable mouth before I find another way to shut it.”
“That’s a form of sex,” I retorted, although the thought of tasting him again made my breath quicken and my mouth water. Some men tasted like shit; Ream tasted like heaven, but I sure as hell wasn’t telling him that.
“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of that, beautiful. But it’s nice to know that you are.”
Gah.