by M. Leighton
I raise my arm and she slides onto the couch and settles her head on my chest.
“I’m sorry I woke you.”
“You never actually sleep in the bed with me, do you? Every time I wake up, you’re gone.”
I shrug. “I don’t need much sleep.”
She gets quietly thoughtful for a few minutes before she speaks again. “Can I ask you a question?”
I feel like sighing. She gets introspective and inquisitive when we’re up late at night like this. I’m sure she’ll ask something that I’d really rather not answer.
When I don’t respond, she just asks anyway. That makes me want to smile. I’m sure she has no idea how adorably annoying she is.
“Why were you so fascinated by Laura Drake? I feel sure you don’t visit all your clients on the down-low in their place of business.”
“I didn’t visit you in your place of business.”
She slaps my chest. “You know what I mean. Just answer the question.”
“I told you I’ve become quite obsessed with people like Alyssa. People like me. I thought you were like me. I wanted to know what brought you to where you are. I wanted to know the hows and the whys. I wanted to know if your stories were a result of something broken. Or something fixed.”
“And what did you decide?”
I glance down at her. Her soft eyes are half-lidded and sleepy, but still focused on my words.
“I don’t know that I’ve ‘decided’ anything. You are very much your own puzzle. I think your writing was your way of coming to terms with what happened, with trying to understand it. Maybe even to forgive your mother. But I also think there’s a lot of you in your characters. I think, in many ways, you’re Daire. And I think, in some ways, I’m your Mason.”
Her voice is small when she asks, “Does that bother you?”
“No. I’m not Mason. And you know that. I think you see things in me that you find desirable. You’ve found a dominant person to trust, much like Daire found Mason. I think that’s what you’ve been searching for all along—someone to trust, someone to be strong and let you be you and not crush you in the process.”
“And what is it that you’re searching for?”
The million dollar question.
“I used to think it was control. That I wanted someone to break, someone to bend to my will. But anymore…I’m not so sure.”
“Should I be afraid?”
“No.”
When she rests her cheek back onto my chest, I can’t help feeling like I just lied to her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE- Samantha
I’d hoped that, in following through with that one night at the club, I could fix everything. I thought that Alec and I could move forward in our relationship and all would be well. But it seems I’m missing something. Something important. Something…crucial.
With every day that passes, and certainly every night, I feel Alec drawing further and further away from me, emotionally. We make love and it’s raw and satisfying, and it seems to get better each time. And yet, something’s missing. I can feel it in Alec’s restlessness. I can see it in his frown, in his distracted green eyes.
I’m at my wits’ end. I don’t know what else to do. I’ve submitted to everything he wants to do—whether to me, with me or something he wants me do to him—and it has all been wonderful. Without the fear of the past, I’ve found that Alec and I can enjoy a sexual playground that’s limited only by our imagination. And Alec has one hell of an imagination!
But still, there’s something that’s not clicking, some way in which he’s never quite with me. Not one hundred percent.
I’m almost positive it has something to do with Alyssa. I know guilt can be a powerful motivator. But it can also be very destructive.
Today makes the fourth time he’s gone back to Portland for “business.” At first, he was only gone a day or two. The last time he went, he was gone for almost two weeks. I know he has a business there, but I also know that he conducts many of his sessions online, the same way in which we began talking. Yet he goes to Portland anyway. And his trips are getting longer and longer.
CHAPTER FORTY- Alec
I’m running. I know I’m running. I’m running from having to make some tough decisions with regard to Samantha. I don’t really want to, even though I know I should.
So, instead of doing what needs to be done, I’m here. On my way to Oregon. Again.
There are many things about my life in Charleston with Samantha that satisfy me, that seem perfect. She’s my sexual mirror, I’m discovering. She’s always eager, always willing to try new things and explore different ways we can bring each other pleasure. She’s no longer bound by her fear.
I can tell when she gets nervous with something I’m doing. I don’t stop. I continue. I push her because I know she’ll be glad in the long run. And that she knows I would never hurt her.
Not like that anyway.
Hurt her heart? Now that’s another story.
I know she’s in love with me. And I care about her. Probably more than anyone else I’ve been involved with. But there’s still something holding me back. I don’t know what it is. I just know that I can’t take the next step, that I have no desire to take the next step right now. Maybe not ever.
But I’m too much of a selfish bastard to break things off with her. I love her body too much, I love what she brings me, what she’s willing to do for me. It’s like the ultimate aphrodisiac—knowing that she won’t say no. I know that’s taking advantage of her feelings for me, of her trust. But I just can’t seem to help myself.
I always knew I was a monster.
The strange part is that, the more time that passes—the closer we get, the more involved she becomes—the less connected I find myself. It’s like every brick of her barrier that I pull away is finding its way to me. I’m surrounded. Walled off. Isolated.
I’m taking another few days away to get some space. See if I can figure out what the hell to do about her. How to leave her without destroying her.
Part of me speaks up, saying it’s her own fault. I warned her about me. But somehow, that doesn’t make it feel right anymore.
Nothing does.
And I’m afraid it’s because I don’t really want to leave at all.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE- Samantha
I’ve only seen Alec three times since he’s been home. He avoids me like the plague. And I don’t know why.
I’ve asked him. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he’s becoming more cold and distant as the days go by.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO- Alec
I thought letting things die slowly would be easier on Samantha, easier on my conscience, but I think it’s taking a greater toll on both of us. The pretending is the worst part.
I just don’t know what it is that we’re pretending anymore.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE- Samantha
“You need to talk to him,” Chris tells me for the umpteenth time.
“Chris, I do. I try. I don’t get anywhere. It’s like talking to space.”
“What does he say?”
“The same thing—he’s fine. I’m fine. We’re fine.”
“Well, things are obviously not fine. You two are in cardiac arrest. You need to shock the shit out of this thing or just let it die. What’s it gonna be?”
“How do I ‘shock the shit out of this thing’? What does that even mean?”
“You know him best. Find the bruise, find the wound. Jerk the Band Aid off. Expose it before he hurts you. Permanently.”
If Alec ever hurts me, it will be like this—by just disappearing while he’s standing right next to me. He would never hurt me in any other way. He has held my safety in his hands too many times. I’ve trusted him with everything. And, so far, the only area I can see that might’ve been a mistake was in giving him my love.
But, even now, after crying myself to sleep every night that he doesn’t call and doesn’t come by, I don’t see how I could’ve avoided it.
&n
bsp; Alec is my soul mate. Whether he realizes it or not.
But how do I make him see that? How do I shock the shit out of this thing?
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR- Alec
I admit I’m a little puzzled by Samantha’s message, requesting that I meet her at the club. I hope to God it’s not some sort of anniversary-type thing she’s planning. Number one, I don’t think we’ve passed any significant milestones in six months. Number two, that would just be wrong. And very stupid.
She knows we’re in trouble.
She has to.
And she probably knows that our next visit will not end well. Maybe that’s what she’s thinking. One for old times’ sake. Of course, I wouldn’t argue. She’s still one of the most amazing sexual creatures I’ve ever met.
But that’s not enough.
We need more than that to survive. I need more than that.
But I’m not getting it. And I’m not even sure what it is.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE- Samantha
I look around the room. There’s nothing in here but me. And a bed. And space. I brought no accoutrements. I have no tricks up my sleeve. Tonight, I’m on a mission. Alec is going to respond to me. I’m going to make him feel something, even if it’s anger. And then, if it’s over, I’ll save him the trouble and I’ll call it quits myself. I can’t stand the thought of losing him, but, to my way of thinking, he’s already gone. Saying it out loud is just a technicality.
I walk to the center of the room and I wait. I’m not wearing anything special—a simple short, black cocktail dress, stilettos with steel tips and my domino.
I hope I didn’t need to tell Alec which room I’d be in. If he can’t even figure that out, we might be more hopeless than I’d thought.
I’m reassured when I hear footsteps stop just outside in the hall. The knob turns slowly and the door swings open, revealing an incredibly handsome Alec on the other side.
His face is like a blank computer screen. It’s void. It’s empty. It’s full of nothingness.
My heart plummets.
He steps inside and closes the door. He leans back against it, crossing his arms and his ankles, studying me with a blandness that makes my heart weep.
“What are we doing here?” he asks after looking around the room and seeing its marked lack of…things.
“We’re here to settle this.”
One brow shoots up. Another stab to my heart.
“And what’s ‘this’?”
“Us. Or what used to be ‘us.’”
He nods. When he says nothing, I take a deep breath and begin my spiel.
“I’ve done everything I can to make you happy, Alec. I’ve asked you a thousand times to talk to me, to tell me what’s wrong. And you won’t. I—”
“It’s not that I won’t. I simply have nothing to say.”
“That might actually be worse. It’s like you just…disappeared.” I feel my resolve break. Tears fill my eyes. “Alec, what happened? Things were going so well and you just…left.”
“I told you from the beginning—”
“I know, I know,” I interrupt with a snap. “You warned me. It’s my fault for not listening. But you have to at least be honest enough to admit that something happened. Even if you won’t tell me what it was.”
I see the muscle in his jaw begin to tick. “I’ve been nothing but honest with you. I’ve never misled you.”
“No, I’ve done this all on my own. I’ve been in this all by myself from the beginning, is that it? Is that what you’re going with?”
“I’m not ‘going with’ anything. It’s the truth. I was up front about what I wanted, what you could expect.”
“And you got it all, didn’t you? You got it all and I got the broken heart, just like you promised.”
I try to keep my voice low and reasonable, but it gets harder and harder with every second I spend in his cool indifference.
“I didn’t come here to fight.”
I take a step toward him, my fingers balled into tight fists. “Then why? Why did you come here?”
Alec’s lips thin. I can see his anger rising.
“Not for this, I can assure you.”
“Oh, I see. You thought you’d sneak in a quickie before you just changed your address. Nice.”
This is not at all how I pictured things going, but my bitterness is overflowing and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Alec straightens. “If this is the way it’s going to be, maybe I should just leave you in peace.”
“It’s too late for that, you bastard,” I force through gritted teeth.
As if something foreign and uncontrollable and…violent overtakes me, I launch myself across the room, hurling my fists at Alec, lashing out in the only way that has any promise of making me feel like I’m not going to explode and then die.
I get in a couple of good licks before he grabs my wrists and twists my arms behind my back, yanking up on them. I cry out in pain, but it doesn’t stop me from using my legs. I try to kick at Alec, but he’s already a step ahead. He has my body pulled in so tightly to his that I can’t make any real headway, can’t do any real damage.
“Does this make you feel better?” he hisses. I struggle against him, shaking my head and shoulders to try and free myself. Alec loops the long fingers of one hand around my wrists, holding them easily in his grip. With his free hand, he grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. “Answer me. Would it make you feel better to hurt me? Is that what you want?”
“Stop it!” I growl, turning my head to escape his grasp. But he has a good grip and he’s not letting go.
“Answer me,” he barks. “Do you want to hurt me?”
“Alec…”
“Answer!”
“Yes,” I spit in a moment of brutal honesty.
His eyes narrow on me. His voice is steady. And quiet. And deadly. “Then do it. Hurt me.” He jerks me against him, his fingers biting into my flesh. “Hurt me!”
Alec crushes his lips to mine, fire and fury in his kiss, before he releases my hands, flinging me away from him and propelling me toward the bed.
I stumble back, temporarily caught off guard. Alec moves purposefully forward, stalking me. There’s rage in his eyes.
I wanted his emotion. Now I have it. He’s not cold and indifferent anymore. He’s irate.
“Come on,” he taunts me. “Hurt me. I want you to.”
I back toward the bed and Alec keeps coming, loosening his tie and peeling off his jacket as he walks.
When he stops in front of me, he reaches out and twists his fingers into the neck of my dress, yanking as hard as he can and tearing it straight down the center.
“Hurt me, damn you! I deserve it!”
Winding his arm around my waist, Alec bends his face to my neck, roughly dragging his lips down to my collar bone and the top of my breast.
Everything I’ve felt for Alec—from overwhelming attraction, to fear, to love, to devastating heart break—bubbles to the surface. Like a flame to dry tumbleweed, I’m instantly incinerated.
I thread my fingers into his hair, pulling his head to one side while I plunder the inside of his mouth with my tongue. His hands push their way into my ripped bodice and tear it the rest of the way down the middle, exposing me to his touch.
I feel his fingers slide under the elastic of my panties and jerk. The thin material gives way easily. I drag my hands from his hair and pull mercilessly at the buttons of his shirt, not caring when I feel them pop off and pepper my chest like tiny plastic bullets. They can do no more damage than what Alec already has. I barely feel them.
Reaching down between my legs, Alec thrusts one finger, then two, then three deep inside me, bringing me up onto my toes. I see the hunger in his eyes before my head falls back on my shoulders and my moan escapes.
Roughly, he pushes me away from him, flinging me onto the bed and falling on top of me. His mouth devours me, his body inflames me, his hands torture me.
And I want it all.
I want all he has to give.
When he enters me, it’s not with ease or patience or practiced skill. It’s with anger. And emotion. And raw need.
I can feel it in his touch, hear it in his growl.
I open my eyes and look at Alec. Although he’s with me, maybe more with me than he’s ever been with me, at the same time, he’s not. He’s completely out of control. It’s alien to him and I can see that it both enrages and terrifies him, but he’s helpless against it now. He’s come too far.
As he moves within me, our fingers grasping desperately at one another, both of us flying toward the sun at Mach Ten, one thought penetrates the haze of my passion. One thought settles over me with perfect clarity.
There is fear, yes. But deep in my soul, I know Alec will never be that out of control again. And maybe he needs to know that, too. Maybe he needs to trust himself. Like I trust him.
“Wrap your hands around my throat,” I whisper. “I want to feel it when you come. I want to feel your fingers tighten then relax. I want to feel you lose control.”
I chose the words on purpose. I know they will trigger some kind of response. What kind of response is the question.
I just hope it works.
It’s my Hail Mary.
Alec’s eyes meet mine. In them is desire, anger, confusion and, yes, now a little bit of fear. Before he can think too much, I reach down and take his hands, guiding them up toward my neck.
“I trust you, Alec. I trust you not to hurt me, no matter how wild you feel. You’re not that person. Not anymore. Now do it. I want to feel you lose it. I want to feel it in your fingertips when you come. All for me. Just for me.”