Rapturous, a Tame Quantum Novel

by Marie Force

  She eyes me shrewdly. “How come?”

  “I’ve got some stuff going on that’s going to require a lot of time and focus. Can’t afford any distractions.” I’m making this up as I go, but it sounds convincing. To me, anyway.

  “I thought that was the whole point, to reduce stress by cutting loose together.”

  “I… I need some time, Cres.”

  “How much time?”

  “I don’t know.” I feel like shit for doing this to her when we’re already well into the early stages of her submissive training. With her crazy life as an in-demand model and the single mom to a son, she doesn’t take a lot of time for herself. This is important to her, and I hate that I’m disappointing her. But I can’t imagine touching her now. As I stare into the eyes of one of the world’s most beautiful women, my cock couldn’t be less interested.

  Fucking hell, is that what I’m doomed to now that I’ve had Addie? I can’t get hard for anyone else? Suddenly, I’m angry with Addie for doing this to me. For wrapping her sweet, sexy self around my soul and working her way so deep inside me I may never get her out. And fuck, I don’t want her out. I want more of her. I want her so badly, I burn with desire for her.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with you, Hayden, but I hope you’ll call me when you’re ready to pick up where we left off.”

  I don’t make promises I can’t keep, so I stick to safer ground. “Say hey to Ty for me, okay?”

  She smiles at the mention of her son, but I can see she gets that I’m ending our relationship—or whatever it was. “Yeah, you got it.” She leans in to kiss my cheek. “Take care.”

  “You, too.” I’m incredibly relieved when she gets up and walks away. Most Doms, myself included, don’t like to share their subs with other Doms. But I hope that Cresley cuts her losses with me and finds someone else to play with. She’s a smart, savvy woman, so I’m not worried about her safety. Right now, I’m more concerned about my own.

  “Did you really pass up a chance to play with Cresley Dane?” Sebastian asks when he makes his way to my end of the bar.

  “So what if I did?”

  “So you’re fucking crazy, that’s what. What’s up with you? You’re like a pent-up tiger looking for a place to rage.”

  The thing about going way back with people is that they know you too well. At times like this, when I actually have something to hide, I wish I could be less obvious to my friends. “I’m fine. Under a lot of stress at work to name a film that defies naming, among other things.”

  “It’ll come to you. Always does.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m going to head out.” I clasp Sebastian’s outstretched hand in a sideways bro shake. “Take it easy.”

  “You, too.”

  I feel his gaze on me as I wave to my partners and head for the elevator without stopping to chat with them. That, too, is unusual, but I’m all talked out tonight. I need to think, and I can’t do that here with the music and the conversation and the temptation that surrounds me. I direct the Range Rover to my house in Malibu, in need of some time at the beach to clear my mind.

  On the drive, I remind myself why it has to be this way with Addie. You see, I’m not all that different from my mother. I too have an addictive personality. I realized that when I was very young and tempted by all the same things that rule my mother. The only difference between her and me is that I’ve learned to manage my demons, whereas she never has. I learned what not to do by watching her self-destruct a little at a time until there’s almost nothing left of her. As much as I love her—and I do in spite of everything she's put me through—I refuse to follow her path.

  Control is the fine line that separates me from her. I rarely have more than a couple of drinks and haven’t ever touched any kind of drugs out of fear that one taste would be all it took to ruin me. I’m so afraid of what might happen that I’ve never even smoked pot, which makes me a rarity in the indulgent world in which I live and work.

  My mother can’t control her demons. I'm not deluded enough to expect this latest honeymoon period after rehab is actually going to stick. The most I ever hope for anymore is that rehab will buy us some time.

  I've lived in this state of petrified anticipation my entire life. Naturally, I try to control the situation by hiring people to watch her. Not that they can do a damned thing to curb her destructive tendencies, which is why peace of mind is a rare and fleeting thing in my life.

  Control is my cornerstone, but I’ve lost control where Addie is concerned, and I can't let that happen. I’ve seen what happens when control is lost. I’ve lived the aftermath of disaster my entire life, and I refuse to be weak like my parents. I’m better than them, or at least I’ve always thought so. Recent events have me wondering if I’m not more their son than I ever wanted to be.

  I direct so I can control every aspect of the films I create. I'm a dominant so I can control my own pleasure and that of my partner. I'm always in control of myself and my emotions. That’s how I keep from becoming lost to addiction like my mother or a gluttonous failure like my father. Control keeps the demons at bay.

  So you're probably thinking—he's a rich entitled prick who could have anyone or anything he wants. Why can't he just have Addie if she’s what he wants? Those are good questions, and you’re right about me being rich, entitled and a prick. I’d never deny I’m all that and many other unsavory things, too.

  The answer to why I can’t have her is simple. I can't control her. I can't control myself around her. I can't control the way she makes me feel—wild and out of control. I'm never out of control. And that’s why I have to stay away. She scares the living hell out of me. I can't afford to lose control, so I can't afford her.

  I say it’s simple, though it’s anything but. Staying away from her is going to be like telling my mother she shouldn’t shoot smack and expecting her not to do it because it’s not good for her.

  Staying away from Addie will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but the alternative isn’t an option for me as much as I might intensely wish otherwise. I want her in a way that I’ve never wanted anyone else, but I refuse to make an exception to the rules that have governed my life. Those rules are the difference between a life of success and a life of disarray.

  After growing up the way I did, I’m afraid of very few things. I’m afraid of how and when I’ll lose my mother. But I’m even more afraid of losing control of myself, of veering off the current path, of losing the life and career I’ve worked so hard to have. Too many people depend on me to let that happen. Sometimes, even rich, entitled pricks don’t get everything they want.

  I learned early on that life isn’t fair. I’m not about to start fighting that battle now. I love her, but I can’t have her. Somehow I’ll find a way to live with that.

  I almost call in sick this morning because I’m aching so badly from last night that I can barely move. Not that I regret it. I don’t. It was the most amazing sexual experience of my life, and any aches or pains I have today are a small price to pay. I don’t call in sick, because I’ve got a lot to do at the office, and I need to start making plans for how I’m going to change Hayden’s mind about us.

  He needs me. I need him. I refuse to believe we can’t find a way to be together. Resolved to my goals where he’s concerned, I force myself out of bed and hobble into the bathroom to run the hottest bath I can stand. I fill it with eucalyptus oil, hoping it will take some of the sting out of my abused flesh. I lower myself carefully into the tub, sitting gingerly and sighing with pleasure as the hot water surrounds me.

  I think it through from every angle. He’s keeping things from me. That much I’m sure of. I have access to every kind of resource, including private investigators if it comes to that, which it won’t. I can’t take the chance of him—or Flynn—finding out if I were to have Hayden investigated. That would be a disaster for me professionally. I love my job—and the people I work for—too much to go there.

  But damn
, I want to. I want to know everything about him so I’ll have the tools I need to see this through. I have to remove the obstacles he sees standing between us. How can I do that if I don’t know what the obstacles are?

  Part of it is most definitely rooted in his chaotic childhood. He was shaped, for better or worse, by the drama he grew up with. His mother has caused him endless heartache with her horrific addictions to drugs, booze and men. The scars he carries with him probably run deeper than anyone realizes.

  “That’s okay. I can work with scars. I don’t need him to be perfect. I just need him to be perfect for me.”

  Before this day is out, I want to see my dad. He usually gives me good advice, and he will in this situation, too, as long as he doesn't know I’m talking about Hayden. For reasons he refuses to share with me, he can’t stand Hayden. I try not to think about how difficult that’ll be if I’m able to work things out with Hayden. I’m close to my dad, and it kills me that he hates the man I love. But even my father’s certain disapproval is not enough to deter me from my goal.

  When the water begins to cool, I rise up from the tub feeling marginally better than I did when I got in—until I step foot on the bathroom floor and pain radiates from my backside, making me wince and grit my teeth. Ugh. This is going to be a long-ass day. I giggle at my choice of words.

  Standing in my walk-in closet, I start to reach for my most comfortable work clothes, the ones I wear at that time of the month, but then stop myself.

  Pain aside, this is no time to fall down on the job. There’s never been a more important time to look like two million bucks at the office. I grab a sexy black wrap dress and a pair of four-inch heels that do incredible things for my legs. Just in case this day turns out better than expected, I wear lacy black underwear that leaves very little to the imagination.

  Each step in the heels hurts, but I soldier on, determined to make use of every tool in my arsenal, including my bruised and battered body, to get what I want. I decide to grab coffee at the office and head for the garage. As I make my way from the elevator to my car, I realize I’m actually limping. I’ll need a story to explain that and settle on a Rollerblading accident. Everyone knows how much I love my blades, so it won’t surprise anyone to hear I pulled a muscle while blading on the boardwalk. I can sell that.

  Leah is moving into her new apartment today, so she won’t be in the office, which is just as well. I have a ton of my own stuff to get done.

  By the time I reach the Quantum parking lot, I’m in so much pain from sitting on my sore bum that I’m blinking back tears. I pull into my assigned space and am gathering my things when a big, black shadow falls over my car from Hayden’s Range Rover pulling in next to me.

  I’m surprised he’s getting here so late. He’s usually one of the first to arrive. I look over to find him staring intently at me and stare back at him, wishing I could read his mind so I’ll know exactly what I’m up against. Since that’s not an option, I get out of the car and make a huge—and painful—effort to move normally, to act like nothing hurts when everything does.

  Grimacing all the way, I go inside ahead of him.

  “Addie, wait up.”

  I turn and smile up at him. “Did you need something?”

  “You… Are you… You’re all right?”

  “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I, um… Ah, no reason, I guess.”

  “How are you?”

  He seems surprised by the question, and in the heartbeat of a second it takes for him to answer me, I see the anguish that grips him. I’m strangely satisfied to know he’s agonizing over this situation as much as I am. “I’m fine.” Dragging his gaze off my face, he lays his hand on the palm scanner and presses the up arrow to summon the elevator.

  We wait in awkward and painful—in my case, anyway—silence until the elevator arrives with a cheerful ding.

  Hayden holds the door open for me, and I proceed ahead of him.

  And the Academy Award for Best Actress in a morning-after first-time anal sex scene goes to… Addison York. The crowd goes wild! I pinch my lips to keep from laughing out loud at the ludicrous direction my thoughts have taken.

  “We need to talk,” he says in a low growl that makes my nipples tingle. It’s the same way he talked to me when we were in bed.

  “About what?” I ask in my best nonchalant tone. I’m making this up as I go along, but it seems to rattle him that I’m not a hot mess after last night. Since my calm coolness is getting to him, I keep it up.

  “You know what about.”

  “I don’t need to talk, but if you have something on your mind, you know how to find me.” It’s physically and emotionally excruciating to have to pretend I’m unaffected by what happened last night. I want to throw my arms around him and love the wounded look right out of his gorgeous blue eyes, but if I do that, if I tip my hand too soon, I’ll lose the edge I currently hold over him.

  He’s undone by my indifference. That much is apparent, so I lean back against the corner of the elevator to relieve the pressure on my aching body while we ride the elevator to the fifth floor. I watch the elevator’s progress above the doors while he watches me. I can feel his heated gaze on me, and remaining indifferent takes everything I’ve got and then some.

  “Tonight I’m coming over, and we’re going to talk,” he mutters before the doors open on our floor. “You hear me?”

  “Uh-huh.” My heart dances with glee and anticipation. For all his sophistication and experience with women, the poor bastard has no idea that I’ve already got him firmly ensnared in my web. Despite what he said last night, he’s coming back for more. He thinks we’ll talk. I’ve got other plans.

  Note to self—take some painkillers later this afternoon so you can “perform” later.

  We part company at the reception desk, where Mackenzie gives me an inquisitive look because I arrived with Hayden. If only she knew the real story.

  “Hey,” she calls after me. “Are you limping?”

  “Rollerblading disaster,” I say over my shoulder, continuing on to my office.

  “Who had a Rollerblading disaster?” Flynn asks. Wearing faded denim and an old T-shirt, he’s sitting in my visitor chair, feet on my desk, scrolling through his phone, looking nothing at all like the world-famous Academy Award-winning actor and producer he is. Today, and most days, for that matter, he’s a regular guy who happens to have a blockbuster career. I love that he’s so unaffected by his fame and success. I love the way he cares about his friends and family, and watching him fall madly in love with Natalie has been a beautiful thing.

  “I did. One leg zigged while the other zagged, and well, ouch.”

  “Yikes. That sounds painful.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Do you need a doctor?”

  “Nah. Just some pulled muscles that’ll be fine in a day or two.” I drop my bag on the desk and remain standing so he won’t see the full extent of my so-called injury. “What’re you doing in my office anyway?”

  “Other than the fact that I own the place?” he asks with a cocky grin.

  “Other than that.”

  “Nat and I were talking last night about doing something to celebrate Camo’s big win. We’d like to take everyone to Mexico for a getaway in the next couple of weeks. I was hoping you could help me with that.”

  “Is help a metaphor for plan and coordinate the entire thing?”

  “Of course it is.”

  “Thought so,” I say with a chuckle. It’s a good thing I love him so much, or I’d want to have him killed half the time. “I can do that. No problem. And it’s a great idea. You guys will have a blast.”

  “Us guys? You’re coming, too, and so are Leah, Emmett, Ellie, Sebastian and everyone else who matters. I want the whole crew.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Coordinating a vacation for a dozen of the busiest people I know is going to take some doing, but it’s a challenge I welcome on a day when I have too many
other things vying for my attention. “And I’m delighted to be included. Thank you.”

  “Of course you’re included. You’re the best, Addie.”

  “I know. I tell you that every day.”

  Laughing, he gets up to leave. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Okay, then. Keep me posted on the plans for Mexico.”

  “You know I will.”

  “You’re coming to the meetings today, right?”

  “Yep, I’ll be there.” He has a series of conference calls lined up to go over preproduction details for the new film he’s due to begin shooting in Prague next month. This one isn’t a Quantum production, so it requires a lot more external coordination ahead of shooting.

  “Remind me to never again do a non-Quantum film.”

  “Funny, I was just thinking how much more ‘work’ it is when you take an outside project.”

  “It sucks,” he says bluntly.

  “Is Natalie going to Prague with you?”

  “Yeah, she is. She can handle foundation business from there, and I won’t lose my mind trying to work while wishing I was with her.”

  “You’re pathetic.”

  “I’m well aware of that, and the happiest pathetic bastard you’ll ever meet.”

  “Get your happy self out of my office so I can plan your vacation.”

  “I’m going, but before I do… I need to ask you something that’s none of my business.”

  “Okay…”

  “You and Hayden. Is that happening?”

  I’m unprepared for him to ask me that so bluntly, and I have no idea what to say. Is it happening? Hell, yes, it’s happening, but will it continue? That much I don’t know, and I’m sure he can tell just by looking at me that I’m torn up about it. “Ah, well, we’re in negotiations, I guess you could say.”