by K. M. Scott
So much of Ian and me can be summed up in that tiny phrase. If only. If only I was stronger when he needed my strength the most. If only he hadn’t turned to the one thing he loved more than me.
If only what we are wasn’t so full of madness.
I know I have no right to expect his forgiveness, but deep in my soul I know I can’t give up trying to find some way to convince him that even though our love is crazy and destructive, it’s worth fighting for.
He’s worth fighting for.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ian
I pace back and forth across the wood plank floor as I listen to Kristina walk out to the living room. Her being here has changed everything I felt about her betrayal. If I’d never seen her again, maybe I could have forgotten her or at least been able to pretend I didn’t still love her. Christ, even if I’d had a week alone I might have been able to convince myself I could live without her.
With her here so close, I can’t do any of those things.
Like a coward, I remain hidden in this bedroom instead of marching out to where she sits cozy in front of the fireplace because I can’t bring myself to send her away and I can’t welcome her back with open arms. I want to do both and neither at the same time.
God, I need a fucking drink.
Of course, I can’t do that either since the scotch is out there with her. Fuck. I can’t win, can I?
Maybe I can just fall asleep and pretend she isn’t out there, close enough that I could just take her in my arms and kiss her the way I always did if I wanted to. Good fucking luck with that, right?
I lie down and close my eyes in the hopes that I can push everything out of my mind and drift off into a dream of a time when my life wasn’t this mess. How long had Kristina been so integral to my happiness? Is it possible that it’s only a matter of months that I’ve been so utterly consumed with her?
If only she still brought that same joy to my life that she did in those early days. Now everything I feel for her is tainted with betrayal.
Covering my eyes with my arm, I wish for nothing else but to forget what she’s done to ruin what we were so I can return to being madly and completely in love with her. I don’t want to hold this anger inside me anymore. I miss her too much and want to go back to the way we were before I chose that poison over her and made it necessary to leave her.
Maybe if I hadn’t had to abandon her to go to rehab she wouldn’t have felt so lonely that she turned to another man. More mistakes and more regrets borne out of my addiction.
The scent of rosemary and basil drifts into the air around me, and I inhale deeply, enjoying the smell of whatever Kristina is cooking out in the kitchen. She should have left after how I treated her, yet still she’s here making this cabin more like a home than it’s ever been before.
I look over toward the window and see the blizzard blowing wild outside. Perhaps that’s why she stayed. Of course it is. If we were back in the city, she’d be gone and I’d be alone again.
Taking another deep breath of that delicious smell, the truth becomes impossible to avoid. I don’t want to be alone again. I want Kristina.
And the only way to make that happen is to forgive her.
I slowly make my way out to the living room and sit down on the couch without saying a word. Busy preparing dinner for us, she doesn’t see me at first and I can sneak a look at her without her noticing. In all the time I’ve known her, I don’t think she’s ever looked more beautiful than she does standing there at the counter with splotches of flour on her face as she makes some kind of gravy for the pork roast the caretaker had been good enough to leave for me.
She hums a song I don’t recognize as I watch her, but she must sense me staring because she looks up and in those beautiful cornflower blue eyes I see the same look of love that’s always been there. That her love remains after how terrible I’ve been to her is a testament to her, not me. I don’t deserve it, no matter what she’s done.
Before she says anything, I look away toward the fire, ashamed at how I’ve behaved toward her. Like always, the words I need to express how I feel seem to be ironically lost.
I listen to her as she stirs the gravy and then sets the spoon down on the counter. The sound of her bare feet padding across the wood floor toward where I sit thrills and excites me, even as I pretend not to notice her. I try to focus on the crackling of the fire as it jumps off the log in the fireplace, but the pull of knowing she stands so close distracts me.
Closing my eyes, I wait for her to say the first word so this silence between us can finally end. A minute goes by without her saying a thing, though, and I open my eyes to see her standing in front of me, still only in her sweater and underwear.
“Please speak to me, Ian. I can’t stand being trapped here with someone who hates me like you do. I’d leave like you want me to, but I can’t yet. I’m trying to make the best of this, even though I know you don’t want me here.”
Her eyes tell the story of her misery. Looking up at her, I quietly admit the truth. “I don’t hate you, Kristina.”
“No, you just don’t care about me anymore, which is worse than you hating me. At least if you hated me I could believe you still felt something.”
“I care. Even though I’ve tried hard not to, I can’t shake you. I can’t shake my addiction to you.”
She hangs her head and in a voice barely above a whisper, she says, “You’re not addicted to me anymore. If you were, you wouldn’t have been able to leave me like you did.”
“I am, but like with my other addictions, I can hold out for a little while before the need presses down on me so bad that I can’t stay away.”
Lifting her gaze to meet mine, she gives me a tentative smile. “Does that mean you can forgive me for ruining your life?”
I reach out and slowly drag my finger down the soft skin of her thigh. “You didn’t ruin my life. You are my life. Before I met you, I was merely a drunken author who had nothing in his life but scotch and success that never filled up the emptiness inside. With you, I was finally happy.”
Kristina drops to her knees and presses her cheek to my leg. Gazing up at me with tears in her eyes, she says, “Oh, Ian, we can be happy again. I know we’ve done terrible things to each other, but can’t we try again?”
My hand glides through her brown hair, and I revel at its softness. So much like who she truly is. Gentle and kind, she never meant to hurt me. I know that now. I should have always known it.
“Yes,” I whisper as I stroke her cheek. “I can’t stay away from you, even if I wanted to, Kristina. Of all my addictions, you’re the one I can’t overcome. The one I don’t want to overcome.”
For a moment, she stays silent while she stares up at me, and I see the happiness fill her eyes, but then she says, “Ian, I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you want to try again. I know everything went bad because of me, but I swear I never meant all that to happen. I made such a mess of everything because I was selfish. I promise I won’t be that way anymore.”
“Don’t say that. It wasn’t all your fault. Come here.”
I pull her up to kiss her lips, wishing I could take away all the sadness I hear in her words. Her mouth melds to mine as I give in to what I’ve wanted more than anything else. More than just my muse, she’s my Kristina, the one soul who knows all my secrets and demons and still loves me.
She cradles my face and whispers against my lips, “I’ve missed you so much. I was worried you’d never speak to me again. I’m so sorry, Ian. I never meant to do anything to hurt you.”
Pushing her hair off her face, I look up into her eyes and nod. “I know. I should have never thought you’d hurt me like that. I should have known better. I’m sorry.”
Tears roll down over her cheeks, wetting my fingertips, but I receive one of her beautiful smiles. “I worried I’d never hear you say something like that to me, do you know that? Then when you were so cold when you saw me standing there at the door, I was sure everything w
e were had gone away forever.”
“I was a fool, Kristina. I’m sorry. I never should have doubted how much you loved me.”
She buries her face in the crook of my neck and wraps her arms around me, holding me tightly as she sobs, “Promise me we can start over and we haven’t ruined all that we had. Swear to me it can be great again like it was when we met.”
I gently stroke her back and whisper, “We’ll be great again, baby. I promise.”
Kristina leans back and wipes away her tears. “This is just like that first night after you signed my book. Do you remember?”
“Yeah. I remember when I slid my hands down to your ass and you had nothing but a garter belt on. I nearly exploded out of my pants right then and there.”
As I speak, I do just as I did that night and cup her ass in my hands. This time she’s got underwear on, but she still excites me as much as she did the first time she was in my arms. My cock aches to be inside her, and when I slide my finger under her silk panties, I feel how wet she already is for me.
Kristina rolls her hips forward to press her needy clit against my hard cock and moans, “You’re such a tease, but maybe we should wait until after dinner?”
“No fucking way,” I groan as I tear her underwear off with one quick rip. “Dinner can wait. What I want is right here.”
My hands squeeze her gorgeous full ass, and I slip a single finger from behind into her slick cunt. Leaning forward, she slowly runs her tongue over the shell of my ear and moans sweetly as I slide another finger in to join the first, fucking her slow and easy with them.
“Ian, I missed you so much. I felt empty when I thought about never seeing you again,” she says in a voice filled with desperation.
I know exactly how she feels. Every cell in my body felt that same desperation every minute I was away from her.
Kristina rolls her hips and I curl my fingers to stroke that spot inside her I know will bring her the ecstasy she so wants and I so want to give her. She leans back with a look of pure pleasure. I watch as she bites her lower lip in that way that never fails to make her look so fucking sexy and say, “Don’t think about that. Think about how my fingers feel fucking your snug cunt and how much you want to come.”
“I’m so close…right there, Ian,” she coos as I increase the speed of my fingers dipping into her wet pussy.
“Come for me, baby. Let me feel your juices cover my fingers.”
Pitching forward, she presses her mouth to mine in a kiss while a low, sweet groan escapes from her throat into my mouth. One more thrust of my fingers into her and she comes hard, riding my hand with abandon. I watch in rapt adoration as every inch of her gives into the exquisite sensations coming from her core, loving how expressive she is when we’re like this.
Her pleasure is pure and real, and I silently scold that voice inside me for making me question that. When she’s with me, there’s no acting or pretending.
When she’s with me, she’s true to her nature and lets me be true to mine.
As her legs cease their trembling from her orgasm, I slip my fingers out of her. Glistening and drenched with her, they’re evidence of the truth that exists between us.
I bring them to my lips and suck them into my mouth, loving the taste of her as it dances across my tongue. Smiling, I tease, “Almost as good as going down on you.”
“Almost?” she asks sweetly, still subdued from coming.
“Yeah, almost. I like burying my face in your pussy, but this will do for now.”
Pulling her mouth to mine, I snake my tongue past her lips to find her tongue. I want her to taste what I taste when I eat her cunt—the sweetly musky taste of her.
She settles onto my lap and when she leans away from my kiss, smiles as she says, “That’s a thing with you, isn’t it? You love it when I taste myself on you, don’t you?”
I nod. “Yeah. I love how raw and real it is that you don’t back away from tasting yourself on my fingers or my cock after I’ve been inside you. It makes you even sexier, if that’s possible.”
“I love how you excite all my senses, you know that? I’ve never been with anyone who thought of taste when it came to making love.”
Shrugging at the compliment, I smile. “Maybe it’s because I’m an author. We’re very much about all the senses. But how could anyone leave taste out of being with someone? The mouth is all about tasting. When I kiss you, I taste your tongue and your lips. When I drag my tongue over your skin, I taste it.”
“And when your face is between my legs, you taste me there too,” she says in strangely shy way as she traces her finger over my lower lip, exciting me.
“You mean when my tongue is deep in your cunt licking you until you come all over my face?”
I say it that way to see her blush, and she doesn’t disappoint. Her cheeks turn a soft pink and her eyes widen just a bit at my words, making my cock stiffen.
Touching her cheek, I say, “I love how you get shy when I talk like that, Kristina.”
“No one has ever talked to me like you do, Ian. Everything you say is so perfect. And so sexy. Like when you asked me to be your muse. Nobody else in the world says things like that.”
“My muse…” I whisper and look up into those beautiful cornflower blue eyes so gentle and caring. “I love you, Kristina. Whatever this was when we began it and whatever it became, no matter what, I’ve been in love with you from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
She smiles even as tears of happiness fill her eyes. “I love you, Ian.”
For a long moment, I stare up at her just to enjoy the sight of her with me and telling me she loves me. Me. Ian Anwell, recovering heroin addict. Borderline drunk. The man who left her alone to deal with the fallout from that online rag’s article like some kind of dick.
Me.
“Is something wrong? Did I say something to upset you?” she asks in that gentle way that’s charmed me from the first night.
I shake my head and tell her the truth. “No. I was just thinking how lucky I am that someone like you would even want to meet me for drinks, much less agree to be my muse and fall in love with me. That’s all.”
Kristina leans forward and presses her cheek to mine as she whispers in my ear, “I’m the lucky one. How many women have their own love story written for them?”
“None more incredible than you,” I whisper back to her.
She sits back and gives me a deliciously wicked grin. “Right now, though, I’d much rather live out a far more erotic story with you, Mr. Anderson. What do you say we act out some scenes of our own?”
This is one of the reasons I can’t live without this woman. Sweet and gentle, she also has a sensual side to her I want to satisfy even more than I want to feel satisfaction myself. What we are is rough and jagged, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kristina
Ian wraps his arms around me and murmurs in my ear in a voice low and sexy, “Hang on. We need somewhere better than this couch for what I want to do to you.”
I weave my fingers together behind his neck and hold on as he walks us to the bedroom. Staring into my eyes, he says, “After I fuck you tonight, you won’t be able to think of another man.”
He slides his hands down to cup my ass, carefully teasing my pussy with his fingertip and making me want him all the more.
Leaning forward, I drag the tip of my tongue over the shell of his ear and swear the truth. “Never again will I think of another man, Ian. I promise.”
Ian closes his fist in my hair and tugs my head back gently. Leveling his dark gaze on mine, he says, “I plan to make sure of that.”
His tone is powerful and deep, and my body aches from the sound of his voice as he promises to make me forget every other man on earth. I yearn to feel his hands on my skin and his cock inside me, filling me up like only he can. I want this to be a new beginning for us—a night that will make all the bad that’s happened go away so we can be what I know we can be togeth
er.
Happy and in love.
Slowly, he lowers me to the bed and then stands there watching me as if my every moment with me enthralls him. His dark gaze travels the length of my body, and I feel its warmth as it finally settles on the space between my legs. He licks his lips and his mouth hitches up into a something like a smile, but there’s a hunger in his eyes that tells me there’s nothing sweet about what he plans to do with me.
He lightly trails the tip of his forefinger over the delicate skin of my inner thigh, making it quiver with anticipation, but no other part of him touches me, even though I know he sees how much I want more of him. I watch with bated breath as his fingers draw closer to my dripping wet pussy, but he stops before he reaches the evidence of how much my body hungers for his cock.
God, I want to slide my fingers down my stomach and over my clit. Just one touch. That’s all I want.
But I know better.
Ian seems to read my mind and asks, “You’re thinking of touching yourself, aren’t you, Kristina? You want to rub that gorgeous clit, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I whimper, desperate to have something touch my clit so swollen with need. His fingers. His cock. His lips and tongue. My finger.
“Open your legs so I can see that pretty cunt,” he orders, and I obey, hoping some relief will come soon.
Ian lowers himself to his knees and with his thumbs opens me up so I’m completely on display for him. If I wasn’t so turned on, I’d be embarrassed, but I want him too much to care about how I look close up.
“Please put your mouth on me,” I beg. “Please, Ian.”
“Not yet,” he whispers near my skin. “I want to see you touch yourself first.”
Surprised at his words, I look down at him between my legs and see a devilish look in his eyes. “I thought you didn’t want me to ever do that.”
“Are you embarrassed?”
“No. I just thought you didn’t like me doing that.”
He slowly rubs the pads of his thumbs along the crease of my legs and places a single kiss on my thigh. Looking up at me, he whispers against my skin, “That was before. We’re starting over and I want to see you play with yourself. I want to see your fingers make you come while I watch.”