“It’s a promise that I can make,” I barely whisper. “It’s a promise that I’ve offered you many times.”
The emotion filling his eyes trips my heart, but when he says, “I own Impulse,” I’m damn sure my heart stops beating for a few seconds.
I attempt to come to terms with what he’s told me and fail miserably. “Okay, I’m not sure if I’m more shocked that you told me something personal about yourself or that you own a sex club.”
He chuckles. “I’m sure both are equally shocking, but nonetheless it’s true.” He hasn’t stepped back, the heat of his body blazing against mine when he adds, “I’ve owned the club since the day it opened. No one knows about it except a few trusted people.”
There’s a lot to be talked about here, I’m sure of that, but I’m curious about the obvious questions. “Are you a Dominant?”
“I enjoy…” he pauses, clearly choosing his words carefully, “…an active sex life, and women who attend these particular clubs have let me live out my fantasies.” He stares down at me, and my chest is lifting and falling rapidly. This is the first time I’m seeing Ryder with his shields down and that openness is like a drug I want again and again. His voice remains steady as he continues, “That’s why I created the club, so that I could meet women under my terms, because I’m a private man and because I offer security to those who would be affected by my sex scandal if it ever got out.”
I lick my lips imagining his particular brand of sex, watching the way his gaze follows the glide of my tongue, and manage, “Are you…are you with anyone now?”
He shakes his head. “Not recently, no. My eyes have been elsewhere.”
And those eyes are right on me.
He doesn’t need to say more. I know exactly why he hasn’t been with anyone else. Because of me. And now I see something I never did before. I see, maybe in all of the confusion, with the video and everything else, he’s wondering how I could be with other men. Because as much as I’ve known something special lay between Ryder and me, I’m realizing that he did, too. And maybe, just maybe, he’s been fighting this thing between us harder than I knew.
I can’t help but wonder if this is our chance. He gave me what I wanted…something more. Now it’s my turn.
“You want to know the truth about me?” I ask softly, stepping away from him, knowing I need to sit down for what’s ahead of me.
I move to the couch and take a seat, and as he joins me, he states, “Please enlighten me.”
Feeling safe, as I always do around Ryder, my eyes shut and I allow my mind to go to a place it hasn’t gone in a very long time.
School ended a week ago and freedom came with it. I grasp my hair in one hand, fighting off the wind blowing through the convertible, singing along to the *NSYNC song blasting through the car’s speakers and drumming my fingers against the steering wheel. Tori’s hands are high in the air as she sits in the passenger seat, belting out the song just a bit louder than Vicky in the back seat.
When the boys sing the final lyric, Tori turns down the music and smiles at me, her long brown hair, which I wish was mine, a total mess that somehow only makes her look prettier. “Okay, it’s time to spill. Did Jimmy ask you to the dance?” Her eyes are bright, like they usually are when she’s deep into gossip.
“Nope.” I pull up to the stop sign and look both ways before continuing down the country road on our way to the drive-in movie theater.
From the back seat Vicky leans between the seats and states, “Oh, he is so gonna ask.”
“Maybe.” Even if I don’t want to seem too eager, I hope he does. He’s a senior and the quarterback. And with me being a junior, my status in school would go way up. Things that I didn’t have to worry about before now seem so important.
“God,” Tori says with a sigh. “You’ll be so lucky. He’s so hot.”
I totally agree. He’s got this smile that makes my heart race. “Well, you’re lucky, too. Paul is gorgeous.”
Tori changes the channel on the radio, searching for a better song. “Paul is not Jimmy, but he’ll do.”
Her smile is sweet and I know she really likes him. Yes, he’s a bit nerdy with all his Star Wars talk, but he’s a good guy. And he’s practically perfect for Tori, because although she won’t admit it, she loves all that geeky stuff, too.
“And what about you?” I ask Vicky, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “Did Craig finally ask?”
“Yeah.” Vicky smiles sweetly, her blue eyes sparkling. “He was totally awkward about it all and looked ready to puke on his shoes. It was kinda cute, actually.” She suddenly bounces on her seat. “Oh, oh, I love that song. Turn it up.”
With my mind on the upcoming summer dance, put on by one of the rich students who has a lake house, and the butterflies in my stomach, I look away to crank up the volume. And as Tori’s and Vicky’s singing voices fill the car, I glance back to the road, blinded for a moment by the sun.
Then, “Watch out!”
“I swear I can still hear the screaming and smell the burning metal,” I say, blinking out of the memory and finding Ryder’s gentle eyes watching me. “No matter that it’s been nearly eight years since the accident.”
“Is that all you remember?” he asks, and I realize now he’s moved closer to me.
I inhale the woodsy hints of his cologne and somehow him being close is beyond comforting. “I don’t remember what happened before. I don’t remember the crash. But I remember that I killed my two childhood friends. That, I can’t ever forget.”
“Jesus, Hadley,” he says softly.
I shut my eyes, pulling in all the emotion and storing it in the place in my soul where I can survive such pain. Only when I feel strong again do I reopen my eyes and add, “It took years of therapy to realize the car accident wasn’t my fault. That it was an accident,” I explain, feeling a little disconnected like I always did. Sometimes…most times…it felt like it was all a dream and I was talking about someone else’s life. “But I don’t think I’ll ever not remember that if I hadn’t looked away to turn up the stupid radio, I would’ve seen the truck that blew through the stop sign. If the music hadn’t been so loud I would’ve heard the truck’s horn blaring. That if the truck had hit my side of the car, I would’ve been the one to die, not my best friends.”
Ryder’s jaw muscles clench once and then again. “Why didn’t I know about the accident?”
There’s hurt there in his voice, and it goes beyond his duty to my father. “Well, I have my dad to thank for that. My name was never mentioned in the papers, and while I think my dad did tell your father about the accident, he likely asked him to keep it private.” I see the disappointment in Ryder’s face and quickly add, “He was just trying to keep me safe, Ryder.”
Ryder frowns. “I’m not sure silencing you was the best way to keep you safe.”
The weight in my chest lightens just that easily. I don’t know how he gets me the way he does sometimes. But I realize right now it doesn’t make me feel bare and exposed, it makes me feel connected to him in ways I’m not to anyone else. “I often wondered that, too, and so did my therapist.”
I’m not at all surprised that he doesn’t focus on what I’m saying but continues with his train of thought. “This is why you push yourself to do such reckless things sometimes?”
Part of the reason is what I want to say. It’s why I can wake up every day and survive. But Ryder doesn’t want to hear that I’m with these men because his rejection only deepens my pain. Instead I stick with the truth he knows. “Honestly, I’m beyond careful. I could have one-night stands but don’t because I can’t trust anyone because of my father’s fame. It’s why I go to the clubs. There’s a level of privacy I depend on…and, well, the men there…are experienced with these kinds of things.” Back in college, a date with a wannabe Dominant sparked my curiosity. That brought me to the real deal. Into the hands of trained Dominants at Afterglow. “I need the intensity, the thrill. The excitement, the roughness, an
d even the pain…it all wakes me up. I feel…”
“Alive?” he offers.
I nod. “It’s like everything inside of me builds and builds, and I fight to find a way to release that tension.”
“Being at the club gives you that release?” he asks.
“The intensity that happens during my time there brings higher emotions. It brings happiness, fear, even sadness, just to a stronger degree, and these are all things that I fight to feel on a daily basis.” The therapists call my missing emotions PTSD. A reaction caused by the accident. “When it all becomes too much, and I feel myself scrambling to stay afloat, I’ve learned that being with a Dominant allows that build-up to escape, if that makes any sense at all.”
“Actually, it all makes perfect sense to me” is all Ryder says, watching me closely. “Taking what you need to keep breathing every day makes you a fighter. Don’t ever forget that, Hadley.” My heart begins to race at the way he’s studying me whenever he’s thinking intensely; his expression completely unreadable. And when he raises his hand, sliding his warm fingers across my cheek, I can’t stop looking at him. He’s so damn real. There’s no bullshit here. “You dealt with your pain,” he adds in a gentle voice, “and survived, and that takes strength.”
My mind is spinning with unanswered questions about where this is going between us as he pulls me into his arms and hugs me so tightly.
It’s all I need. All I ever needed.
Chapter 7
Ryder
An hour later, I hear the water beginning to drain from the tub. A bath I’d run for Hadley so she could relax and I could think. I glance at the closed bathroom door, seeing the shadow of Hadley’s feet passing by.
Things have changed now. I know it. And I imagine so does she.
We can’t go back. Not after the emotional line we just crossed. I want to remove her worries. Christ, I want to erase her pain. I know I can, that’s the trouble. I’m the one man she needs, and she’s the very woman I crave.
And now I have the answer for why she sought out other men. Me. My refusal to fight for her and to be the man she begged me to be, and the thought sickens me, making me question where my loyalty has been. For the last year, I’ve been restrained under my duty to the senator, but I’d devastated Hadley because of that loyalty. All of that I can handle. What I can’t handle is that she kept coming back, knowing I would reject her.
She never gave up. Not once.
Before my feet carry me toward her, my phone rings, a blessed distraction. I grab it from my back pocket and see it’s Gabe. “Hey, Gabe. What’s up?” I ask.
“I’ve got that name for you,” he says. “Want it over the phone?”
I get his worry. We’re being tapped, but the phone is a burner that isn’t connected to me at all, because at this point there’s not a single piece of electronic equipment that I trust. “This is a safe line, who is it?”
“It’s Congressman Westhaven.”
I stare at the bathroom door, watching Hadley’s feet pass by again, telling me she’s likely hanging up her towel after getting dressed. “Patrick Westhaven?”
“Yup. That’s the one.”
The mention of a politician straightens my spine like a steel rod. “How do you know that it’s him?” I wasn’t expecting the name to be given this easily. Usually anything that’s too easy makes me suspicious.
“Because I put a few feelers out there and it appears that the congressman is known for leaving private invitations in lockers. It’s his kink, so to speak.”
“Oh, I see.” Not what I expected to hear, but nonetheless it makes me more confident that he’s the guy I want to talk to. “What else do you know of the congressman?”
“Other than that, not much. The manager at the club said that he can be a little shady and rough at times.”
“Good to know.” The congressman isn’t my only concern. “Is he into ménages?”
“From what I was told, he usually acts alone.”
My internal alarms go off. Perhaps this other person is the hacker. And maybe the congressman and the hacker are working together to somehow get the senator out of the way. “Anything else?”
“I’m afraid that’s all I’ve got. I don’t think I need to tell you the importance of leaving the club out of this?”
“I’ll keep Afterglow out of the conversation.” I understand Gabe’s concern because the privacy of his members means something to him. He’s already crossed a line telling me this information, but we both know it was a line that had to be crossed. “I have possession of the video he is in. That has nothing to do with the club. He won’t connect the two.”
“Perfect. Good luck.”
“Thanks for the help” is all I say as I end the call. But before putting my cell away, I call Alex.
She answers on the second ring. “Whatcha need, boss?”
“Look into Congressman Patrick Westhaven. He’s one of our guys.”
“On it.”
The phone line goes dead. Alex is top-notch; I know she’ll find everything I need to know and more before the night ends. I place the phone on the coffee table, drop my head into my hands, and rub my eyes, feeling the stress and strain over the past days wearing on me.
A lot weighs on finding this hacker. Once we have that information, I should be able to find out the connection between the recording devices at Gabe’s pub and the tabloids, and this hopefully will lead me to what I need to know about the senator.
God, I hope I’m right and I can end this all quickly. I’m tired, irritated, slightly emotional, and sexually frustrated, all of which are a terrible combination.
“Is everything okay?”
I lift my head and find Hadley standing there. Damp hair hanging over her silky robe. Face fresh without any makeup. Skin perfect with rosy cheeks and those perfect pouty lips, slightly pinkened. Her green eyes locked on mine.
Now things between us feel raw. I feel weakened by her vulnerability, unable to keep the boundary up that usually preserves my distance. She’s too perfect standing there, obviously naked beneath her robe.
I rise, going to her, seeing those eyes widen a little bit. When I stop in front of her, I let myself look at her. Really look at her in ways I’ve never let myself look at her before. It’s the soft curve of her face, the freckles on her nose; it’s all of her that draws me in so intently. “You needed me, didn’t you?”
“I did,” she whispers.
“You begged me to be there for you, to see you, and yet I failed you every time.”
“You can see me now,” she whispers, holding my stare in that challenging way she does that I like so much. Then her hands are moving and a second later I see her shoulders bared right before the cloth flutters to the floor.
It’s an invitation I won’t refuse. We’ve stepped across that line, and now there’s no stopping what we have wanted for a year now. I step back and study the beauty before me. She makes me undone. Every curve, every line of her body, her small puckered nipples, her breasts perfect for my hands, her neatly shaved sex—she is perfect in every way. But all of that is not what calls to me. It’s her deep breathing, the lust shining in her eyes, the way she’s nibbling her lip. How much she needs me…wants me…craves me. It’s an addiction I fully understand.
When I look into her eyes again, we don’t need words. It’s there between us, something unspoken and true. I close the distance again and lift my hand to her face, and as she leans in to my touch, something so pure and foreign slides in the air between us. There is no fighting this anymore. I want her. All of her. I refuse to disappoint her again.
I drag my fingers from her face to her neck, hearing the delicious hitch of her breath. She shivers when I run my fingers over her collarbone and make my way over to the curve of her breast, tracing the skin that screams mine. When I circle her areola, her chest rises and falls quickly with her heavy breaths.
There, completely exposed for me, I take what I’ve always known belongs to me. I gras
p her waist and yank her into me, loving the way her pupils dilate and the gasp that spills from her mouth. Then I lower my head and my lips meet hers in a kiss that’s long overdue. Her lips gently dance with mine. I give her just enough so I know I can eventually pull away. Because my control is hanging on by a very thin thread.
A good year of teasing has led to this moment, and I grab her hand when she begins to slide it down my chest. “You deserve for me to be gentle,” I tell her, adrenaline rushing through my veins, quivering my muscles. “I can’t be gentle.”
“You know that’s not what I want” is her reply.
The final strands of whatever control I thought I might possess snap away. Her gasp, echoing with desire, is all I hear as I grasp her wrists, pushing her backward and slamming her back against the wall. She deserves soft, tender kisses but I’m not made of that. Not tonight.
Too long have I been teased. Too long have I been tempted by her. Too long have I dreamed of this moment, of owning each inch of her and making her mine.
She slides her hands over my buzz-cut hair, her lips following my every move. Our breathless moans mingle together and her tongue slides perfectly in rhythm with mine, hardening my cock to steel as I kiss those pouty lips in ways I’ve only fantasized about. My hands pin her between me and the wall. My grip is unforgiving, letting her know I’m going to take care of her tonight, and her moans tell me she’s enjoying it, too.
Christ, she feels ripe in my arms, ready for the taking.
My cock throbs wickedly in my pants and I grind myself between her thighs, loving the way she quivers against me, begging me to take her in any way I please. I drop her wrists and her arms wrap around my neck as I massage her ass in my hands, grinding her against me, and the hitch in her breath drives me fucking wild. She tucks her leg around my waist, pulling me closer, and I understand the need. I deepen the kiss, demanding she keep up with me. I grip her bottom, moving her faster and faster against my greedy dick, urged on by the way her moans get louder and closer together, and the way her body responds with slight quivers.
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