by Marie Force
“Like what?” I ask, my voice gruff with desire.
“There’re so many different aspects to it, so I guess I’m wondering what you like.”
What do I like? What don’t I like? How can I explain it in a way that won’t terrify her? “I like to control my partner’s pleasure.”
“How?”
I scrub my hand over my face. In all the months since I first met her, I’ve been unable to picture her in the context of my kink, which is another first. Usually, that’s the first place my mind goes when I meet someone who interests me sexually. But that hasn’t happened with her.
She tugs at the hand that’s covering my face. “Do you not want to talk about this?”
“What if we weren’t about that?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean when I’m with you, I might not need it to be more than it already is.”
She ponders that, rolling her lip between her teeth. “From what I read, most people who are heavily into the lifestyle can’t turn it on and off like that.”
“That’s true, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be turned off under certain circumstances.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you want that with other women, but not with me?”
Fuck. I’m bungling this. “No, that’s not it. I’m saying I might not need it because it’s already so much more with you. Does that make sense?”
“Is it because you think I’m fragile? Because I was sick?”
Yes, in part. “No.”
“I’m not fragile. I was sick. I’m not anymore.”
“I know that, sweetheart.”
“I don’t want to be treated differently because I used to be sick.”
“I understand that.”
“So you’ll teach me about what you like?”
Releasing a deep breath, I realize she’s got me cornered. If I decline to teach her, she’ll think it’s because I think she’s fragile. “Here’s the thing… I feel things for you, things I’ve never felt for anyone, and the thought of touching you with anything other than reverence makes me a little sick. It doesn’t make me hot to think about things I’d normally do with women who mean nothing to me.” I run through a short list of examples.
I glance down to find her face flushed and her lips parted. Fuck, is this conversation turning her on? It seems like it did. I have to know. I dip my hand under the skirt of her dress and cup her mound. Heat radiates from between her legs, providing confirmation that my words aroused her.
“What if I want those things? Would you do them if I asked you to?”
I’m trapped between a rock and a very hard cock.
“Do you want them?”
“I want everything with you, Kristian.”
Chapter 15
I can’t believe I just blurted that out. Way to scare him off. But he doesn’t look scared. No, he suddenly seems almost dangerously aroused.
“Do you understand what it means to be sexually dominated?”
“I think I do, but why don’t you tell me so I can be sure.”
“It means that I control every aspect of your pleasure. I say what, I say when, I say how many times. And you,” he says, tipping my chin up to force me to meet his intense gaze, “you can stop it all with one word that’s agreed to in advance, which means at the end of the day, you’re the one with all the power.”
“Is it okay to tell you that it excites me to think about doing those things with you?”
“Ah, yeah,” he says, his voice rough, “it’s okay.”
“So, you’ll do them with me?”
“Not until you have a chance to see what you’d be getting into. Up close and personal.”
“Where?”
“At our club.”
“You’ll take me there?”
“If you’re sure it’s what you want.”
“I want you, and this is part of you, so I’m sure it’s what I want.”
“I’ll take you to the club. Eventually.”
“Soon. You’ll take me soon.”
“Who’s the Dominant in this relationship?” he asks, a teasing smile curving his lips.
I gaze up at him. “You are. Sir.”
“Jesus, Aileen. You’re playing with fire, and you don’t even realize it.”
I cup his erection and drag my fingernail down the length of it. “Yes, I do.”
He trembles and then he pounces, rolling on top of me and devouring my mouth in a kiss that’s pure sex.
I curl my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips. “Is it Saturday yet?” I whisper against his lips.
His low growl makes me crazy with wanting him. Even at the beginning of my relationship with Rex, before it went so wrong, I never wanted him the way I want Kristian—as if my life depends on having him. I should be protecting myself—and my kids—from the way he makes me feel. I’ve been down this road before and found it pitted with potholes. And with how many times Kristian has warned me off, I ought to be terrified and running away.
But that’s not what I’m doing. No, I’m kissing him and pressing my core against the rigid length of his erection and thinking about the things he said he wanted to do with me and wondering how long I’ll have to wait to be dominated by him.
Despite my good intentions, I fall asleep in Kristian’s bed and spend the entire night with his arms wrapped tight around me. It’s the best sleep I’ve had since I was diagnosed, and for the first time in ages, I wake ahead of the kids. Thank goodness for that, because I’m not sure they’re ready to see me sleeping in his bed—or in his arms.
I move carefully, hoping I won’t wake him as I make my escape.
His arms tighten around me. “Don’t go,” he says in a voice rough with sleep.
I love knowing what his voice sounds like first thing in the morning. “I have to or we’re going to get caught.”
“Five more minutes.” He presses his erection against my bottom, and I dissolve into a puddle of want.
That’s all it takes.
Then he cups my breast and catches my nipple between his fingers.
“Kristian… Don’t. We can’t do this now, and I’ll be a mess all day if we start something we can’t finish—again.”
His low chuckle makes me smile. “Glad I’m not the only one walking around in a state of agony.”
“Is it agony?”
“To want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone and not be able to have you? I can’t think of a better word to describe it.”
“Neither can I.”
“Soon, sweetheart. We’ll have an entire night together, and we’ll make it count.”
“I can’t wait.”
His hand is on my leg, moving up and under the hem of the dress I never removed last night. We both slept in our clothes, which is just as well since I never made it out of his bed.
I stop his hand from its intended destination between my legs. If he so much as touches me, I’ll forget that my kids are sleeping right down the hall and will be up any minute.
Kristian groans as his fingers twist around mine. “I really hope you guys like Cecelia.”
“I’m sure we will.”
“Don’t forget that Tenley is coming today, too. She talked to you, right?”
“She’s coming at two.”
“I told her you’re to have anything and everything you want. I want you completely pampered.”
“I don’t need all that.”
“I want you to have it. Let me do this for you. I want our first official date to be special.”
“It’ll already be special because I’ll be with you.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
I’m not sure what he means. “What am I doing?”
“You’re making me fall so hard for you that my head is spinning. The more time I spend with you, the more I want. The more I touch you, the more I crave you. I can’t concentrate at work or sleep or do anything but think about you. You’re making a hot m
ess of my life.”
Smiling and filled with the giddy joy I feel whenever he’s nearby, I try to get free of his tight embrace. “I’ll just go so you can get back to normal.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he says in a low growl that sets me on fire with longing.
“But you just said I’m making a mess of your life.”
“It’s the best feeling I’ve ever experienced. Please don’t ever take it away from me. I’m not sure I’d survive it.”
“Kristian… Let me go. I want to turn over so I can see you.”
He loosens his hold on me, just enough that I can turn to face him.
I rest my hand on his face, his morning beard prickling my palm. “In case it matters, you’re doing the same thing to me.”
“It matters.” He kisses me, and I forget all about how I’m supposed to get up before the kids catch us together. I forget everything that doesn’t include him and how it feels to be surrounded by him, consumed by him.
“Mom!” Logan’s voice brings me crashing back to earth.
Kristian releases me, and I get up so quickly, I stumble in my haste to get out of Kristian’s room before my son catches me there.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he says.
I glance over my shoulder, and the sight of him propped up on one elbow, sexy and disheveled as he watches me with hungry eyes, will stay with me until I can be alone with him again. It’s going to be another long-ass day.
Tenley arrives right on time, rolling a rack of gowns into my home like it’s no big deal. To her, it probably isn’t. To me—and to Maddie, who vibrates with excitement at the thought of a fashion show—it’s the biggest of big deals. I can’t believe that one of Hollywood’s top stylists has come to my house to dress me for a premiere that I’m attending with Kristian. I feel like a princess.
Tall and thin with long dark hair, Tenley is as put together as you’d expect a Hollywood stylist to be, with the skinniest jeans I’ve ever seen, a top that clings to her full breasts, sky-high heels that she runs around on the way I do tennis shoes and a gigantic purse filled with the tools of her trade. Sleek is the word that comes to mind.
She hugs me like we’re old friends, even though we’ve only met a couple of times, once at Flynn and Nat’s wedding and the last time I visited before the move. She came to Kristian’s with her sexy boyfriend, Devon Black. “I’m so happy to have the chance to dress you.” With her hands on my shoulders, she leans back for a closer look. “When Addie told me you’re Natalie’s friend who had cancer, I couldn’t wait to find the perfect dress for you. And let me say, you look marvelous. Your hair is so cute, and you’ve gotten some sun.”
“Thank you.” I’m overwhelmed and delighted by her enthusiasm, and I try not to flinch at being described as the friend who had cancer. I know she means well—and so did Addie.
“I gotta say, you landed yourself one hell of a catch, too.” As she talks, she removes dresses in zipped bags from her rack. “That Kristian Bowen is some kind of sexy and ultra mysterious. Everyone is curious about him.”
I’m unprepared for how it feels to hear a gorgeous, sexy woman talk about Kristian that way. A knot of dread forms in my belly. How in the world will I ever keep him interested in me when women like her find him sexy and mysterious? Before I can let the jealousy sink its nasty claws into me, Maddie comes bounding into the room, stopping short at the sight of Tenley and her rack of dresses.
I hold out my arms to my daughter, who steps into my embrace. “Maddie, say hi to Miss Tenley. She’s going to help Mommy find a dress for the movie premiere.”
“Hi,” Maddie says shyly.
“Hi, Maddie. Are you going to help me find the perfect dress for Mommy to wear?”
Maddie nods.
“Excellent! Let’s get started.”
I try on ten gowns, each of them more spectacular than the one before. How I’ll ever decide on one of them is beyond me.
“I want you to try one more,” Tenley says, a calculating look in her eye. “I saved this one for last for a reason.” She holds up a champagne-colored gown that’s the simplest of the lot, and I love it immediately.
“Won’t I look washed out in that color?” I ask, aware of how pallid my skin still is after my illness.
Tenley waves a hand. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll make sure you’re glowing.”
“I like that one, Mommy,” Maddie says.
“I do, too. Let’s see how it looks on.” Maddie comes with me into my bedroom when I change into the gown. She carefully zips me in like she’s been doing it all her life. I turn to face her, and her mouth drops open.
“You look so pretty!”
“Really?”
She nods. “So, so pretty.”
I face the full-length mirror behind the door. The gown hugs me through the breasts and ribs and then flares at the waist, making me look slightly less waifish than I did in many of the others. My shoulders and collarbones are too prominent for my liking, but there’s nothing I can do about that between now and Saturday night, so I try not to dwell on the things I can’t change. “Let’s see what Tenley thinks.”
Maddie goes ahead of me to the living room. “Mommy looks so pretty!”
“Does she?” Tenley asks.
“Uh-huh. Show her, Mom.”
I feel oddly shy emerging from my bedroom in this dress. Everything about it is different. Judging by her expression, Tenley agrees. “Holy smokes. That’s the one! I had a feeling it might be. I wanted you to try on the others so you’d know perfection when you saw it.”
“Do you think he’ll like it?” I ask Tenley, feeling madly vulnerable. I barely know her, but she knows Kristian, and I want him to be proud to have me with him Saturday night.
“Um, yes, Aileen,” she says with a grin. “I think he’ll like it. Let’s talk about shoes!”
She leaves an hour later, promising to get the gown back to me by Saturday morning after a few alterations to make it a perfect fit. I’ve chosen an incredible pair of Jimmy Choo heels, and I almost faint when Tenley tells me that Flynn’s brother-in-law Hugh, a Beverly Hills jeweler, will provide a loaned diamond necklace, bracelet and earrings for the occasion.
Cinderella has nothing on me.
“That was so much fun!” Maddie says after Tenley leaves. Logan hid out in his and Maddie’s bedroom the entire time she was there, and I let him know it’s safe to come back out.
“Did you find something you like?” he asks.
“Wait till you see,” Maddie says. “Mommy looks like a princess.”
“That’s cool.”
The doorbell rings, and I go to answer it.
“Hi there. I’m Cecelia. You must be Aileen?” With blonde hair, blue eyes and a gorgeous smile, she’s the epitome of a Southern California girl.
“Yes, please come in.” I introduce her to Logan and Maddie. “Miss Cecelia is a friend of Mr. Kristian’s, and she’s going to stay with you guys when we go to the movie premiere.”
“You can call me Cece,” she tells the kids. “That’s what my friends call me.”
We chat for a few minutes, and then she asks if the kids like the beach.
“We love it,” Maddie replies.
“Why don’t we take a walk over and check out the playground?” Cece suggests.
“Can we, Mom?” Logan asks.
“Sure, let’s do it.”
As the four of us make the short walk to the playground, Cece asks the kids a bunch of questions that get them talking about their favorite classes at school, the friends they left behind in New York, the summer camp they’re going to and what they like best about their new home—the beach.
“We have some cool new friends, too,” Logan says. “Mr. Kristian has the best game room ever and so many sick cars. He let me sit in them last night and pretend to drive.”
They like her, and she’s great with them, which is a huge relief. I want this time alone with Kristian so badly, but more than that, I want to be sure m
y kids are safe and happy with their new sitter.
“It’s so good of you to do this,” I say to her when the kids are occupied on the swings.
“I’m happy to. I just went through a bad breakup, so it helps to keep busy. Plus, I have crazy student loans from nursing school, and Kristian is making it well worth my while.”
I begin to wonder just how much he’s paying her to watch my kids. Before I can ask her, my phone chimes with a text from him.
Where are you guys? I’m at your house.
My heart immediately skips a beat and does a somersault in my chest—all that from knowing he’s nearby. At the playground across the street.
Be right over.
I run my fingers through my hair and wish I’d worn something more exciting than a tank top and an old pair of cutoff denim shorts. “Kristian is coming over.”
“If you guys want to go grab some dinner or something, I’m not doing anything tonight. I’m off duty at work for a couple of days.”
I’m so tempted. Would it be wrong of me to leave my kids for a few hours with someone they just met?
“Cece,” Maddie calls, “come push me.”
“I’m coming.” She jogs over to the swings and has Maddie giggling within minutes.
“Push me, too,” Logan says.
She alternates like an old pro, pushing one and then the other while keeping up a steady stream of chatter about their favorite movies, their favorite food and what kind of ice cream they like best.
They like her. She likes them. She’s a nurse, for crying out loud. She’s more qualified to be with them than I am. Would it be wrong to take some time to myself? I’ve done it so rarely that the thought of leaving them makes me sick with guilt.
Then his arm slides around me from behind as he kisses the back of my neck, and the guilt is trumped by pure lust when the scent of his cologne fills my senses. I’m a bad, bad mother.
“How’s it going?” he asks, keeping his arm around me as he waves to the kids.
“Good. They like Cecelia.”
“Thank God.”
I pause, but only for a second before I look up at him. “She said she’s not doing anything tonight if we want to go grab a bite to eat. Or something.”