by Sara Cate
“I really don’t want to talk right now, Hanna.”
“Okay,” I reply, walking over to the empty table and leaning against it, crossing my ankles and looking down at him.
“Then why are you still here?” he says in a low growl.
“Because I don’t believe you.”
“Believe me. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“About what happened in the house?”
His fists slam against the table. “Jesus Christ, Hanna. I’m serious. Get out.”
It takes everything in me to keep from flinching. There’s not a part of me that’s not still scared of Nash in some way, his volatile nature, but in my first week here, I’ve learned what Zara never told me about him. He’s just as scared as I am. And that gives me a sense of comfort and power.
I have never felt this intense draw toward someone, the sudden need to shelter him, fix him, nurture him. It’s the only thing keeping me in here right now. The old Hanna would have bolted the moment he told me to get out.
“How long has this been going on, Nash?”
With his elbows on the table, he runs his hands through this hair. “There’s nothing going on.”
“Then, what was that in the house? Because two days ago, you assaulted my clit with your mouth in my room, and now you’re hooking up with Ellis, so tell me, Nash. What exactly is going on?”
He bolts out of his chair, looking at me with wild eyes. I knew that would get his attention.
“I didn’t hook up with Ellis. He just…he gets in my head. He makes me think I want this shit, but I don’t. I just…you don’t understand him, Hanna. He has a way of controlling people.”
“There was something before this week, wasn’t there? Between you two.”
His shoulders soften, and I sense the resignation in his stance. More than anything, Nash looks tired, so I do what comes natural, pushing off the table and crossing the room, I place myself between him and his desk. Then I wind my arms around his neck, pulling his face down to rest against my shoulder. He folds easily, taking a deep inhale as his arms wrap me up tightly.
Something splinters around my heart as he relaxes into my body as if he’s trusting me with his heart.
“Please talk to me,” I whisper.
“We ran into each other in Amsterdam. We were friends. It was great, and then it got intense, banging girls at the same time, then fooling around with each other, and it all happened so fast, I freaked out and left. I think he’s fucking with me as payback. He’s still mad that I took off.”
I stroke the back of his neck as folds into me. He’s so much taller and wider than me, but he seems to fit so easily into my arms.
There are a hundred questions floating around in my head at the moment, questions like… How far did things go between them? Were feelings involved? Is Nash really gay…or I guess, bisexual? And if he didn’t want this to happen again, why did he hire Ellis to come here?
I’m not going to ask Nash any of these questions now because I know better. I have him in a moment of sweet vulnerability, and it feels so good to hold him like this. The more I poke and prod at him, the more backlash I’ll receive, and I don’t want any of that.
Instead, I stroke his back.
“I haven’t told anyone that,” he admits. “I don’t know why I told you.”
“Because I asked.”
“Because you won’t judge me.”
I pull away, putting his face into view. “I would never judge you.”
Our faces are so close our noses are practically touching, and the moment our eyes meet we become locked there. This is the closest I’ve ever been to Nash, and the sliver of emotion he etched into my heart a moment ago opens like a stab wound, and I find myself feeling an intense attachment to the one man I deemed off-limits. And this is somehow far worse than inviting him to fuck me a few days ago and having him making me come the next night. No, sex is one thing. Zara probably even expects us to fuck at some point. But feelings? Strong feelings, no. That’s where I know it will break her heart and shatter our friendship into a million pieces.
But when he presses his lips softly to mine, I can’t pull away. It’s a soft, dry kiss, at first. But after a moment, his tongue slips far enough into my mouth to scrape against my teeth, and I drip like melting wax onto the floor.
“We shouldn’t,” I mumble, pushing him away.
“I don’t care.”
I lose the fight as he forces me against him, kissing me deeper, but somehow still as soft. Soon our kiss becomes heated, panting into each other’s mouths.
“Nash, I’m serious.”
He doesn’t argue, because I know he sees it the same way I do. This kiss is about more than sex.
With our mouths still only a couple inches apart, he whispers, “I don’t care about him, Hanna. I want you.”
Pushing his shoulder until there is more space between us, I stare at him. “But do you? Want him?”
“I don’t know.” And that’s the most I can expect out of him on this issue now.
There is sincerity in his eyes, and for a moment it’s the real Nash. No tough exterior, no walls or aggression. Just Nash.
But with a blink of an eye and completely out of nowhere it changes. “Do you?”
“Do I what?” I ask, pulling away, but his grip on my back won’t let me.
“I know he was in your room until midnight. I heard what he said to you today. You threw yourself at him, and I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised, but here you are kissing me. So…do you want Ellis or not?”
Everything warm and comfortable is immediately sucked out of the room, and the nurturing emotion I felt a moment ago is gone. This time I shove against him violently, and he finally releases me. I want to slap him. I want to claw at his face for the way he makes me feel, so easily he breaks me down, making me a speck of dust.
“I can’t fucking believe you. Is that what this is all about? You’re jealous of him. Jealous I went to him and not you. That I want him and not you!”
He grabs me by the arms, squeezing me so tight I know it’ll bruise as he shoves me toward the door. “Get out, you fucking slut. You’re all the goddamn same.”
I let out a loud, “Ha!” as I spin around toward him. “You think I’m her. You’re still so stuck on Zara you think this is that situation all over again. Is that why you sucked his dick, Nash? To keep him from wanting me so you wouldn’t end up broken hearted again?”
The sudden change of tone nearly makes my head spin, and I know I’m being too fucking harsh, but I’m too fired up to care. Nash plays with emotions, and he had me for a second. Or rather I had him, for a short moment before he covered it all back up and pushed me away. Well, as much as I want to help him, I’m not going to let him call me names and treat me like shit and take it. Fuck that.
“Or is it the other way around?” I snap. “Are you trying to distract me so you have him all to yourself? You and your fucking daddy issues, you can have him!”
“Fuck off, Hanna!” This time when he comes to grab me again, I come out swinging. He blocks the first hit, but my second swing ends with my closed fist against his face, and that’s the last blow I can get before I’m shoved against the glass wall of the office.
As he sneers into my face, pressing my arms painfully against the glass, I realize this is worse than us catching feelings for each other. Hating each other to this point is far worse, and I already know Zara can never know about this.
Suddenly the office door flies open, and Ellis charges in like a storm, grabbing Nash by the collar first as he tosses him away from me. Nash comes back at him like he wants to fight, but there’s a stern, harsh glare on Ellis’s face that suddenly stops Nash’s movement, freezing him in place.
“That’s enough,” Ellis barks.
They stare at each other for a long moment before Ellis turns to me, touching me lightly on the elbow and ushering me out the door.
It’s a blur, him taking me to the house, inspecting my
hand he notices me cradling, and then watching me as I break down in sobs on the kitchen island.
How did this happen? How did we get here? And it all becomes painfully clear.
Nash said he wanted me. Just like he wanted Zara, but she chose his father over him. I had a short glimpse of Nash without the armor, but he could only keep it off for so long, and the moment he admitted his feelings for me, he had to put it back on. It’s no different than the armor I wear, my defenses against feeling anything real, knowing we never get what we truly want in this life. All three of us know this truth too well. Love is only there to destroy us, especially when we’re at our weakest.
“I fucking hate him,” I sob into the dark, charcoal gray sheets on Ellis’s bed. After forcing me to drink some water and making me breathe, he ushered me to his bedroom and ordered me to lie down. Now, I can’t seem to stop shaking. There is no poetry in my head right now. I can’t focus on words or images or feelings.
At first, I panicked when the tremors took over, thinking the attack was back and I was spiraling again, but Ellis just stroked a hand down my back and told me it was just adrenaline.
“You are both very intense,” he says, putting a glass of water on the table next to the bed. I can’t stop the tears. I hate when this happens, as soon as they start, it’s endless. Ellis is quick with a tissue, leaning over to wipe them for me as I turn to my back, draping my arm over my head.
Then, when he seems to notice I’m not getting any better, he does something unexpected. He slips off his shoes next to the bed and crawls in next to me. Without a word, he pulls me under his arm and rests my face against his chest. Then with his large, strong hands, he runs a steady line down my spine like a steady current, and it actually starts to ward away the crying.
It’s quiet between us for a moment before he finally says, “Feeling better?”
“We kissed,” I blurt out with a small hiccup. It feels like I’m confessing something, but he doesn’t react. Tilting his head to the side, he looks down at me with those wise eyes and strong brow, and I suddenly feel so guilty like I’ve disappointed him even though I know I didn’t do a damn thing wrong.
“Did you want to kiss him?” His voice is balanced, calm.
“I did at the time. He was being honest and real. That was before he shut down and started being a sociopath.”
He nods solemnly and I glance up at him again. “He’s confused and his reaction is to lash out.”
“You think?” I reply with a laugh. When he looks down at me, wiping my tears, I feel them start to well up. He seems to have this effect on me, my safe space. And I’m still mad at him, but I’m far less mad at him than Nash so he’s literally the lesser of two evils right now.
“I’m sorry you had to hear what happened between us at the house,” he says quietly.
“Why couldn’t you just tell me? You let me throw myself at you, and all the while you and Nash…”
“Hanna, stop. There is no me and Nash. And it has nothing to do with you throwing yourself at me. I only turned down your invitation for sex because I didn’t trust your reasoning.” His hand runs tenderly down my arm. “It wasn’t because I didn’t want to.”
“So, you sleep with women?” I ask out of curiosity.
“And men,” he replies. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all.” Feeling suddenly a little closer to him, I squeeze him tighter around the chest and feel his head rest at the top of mine.
We lie there for a moment, him still holding me tight against his body and my tears have finally dried. It’s comfortable and quiet, and yet, Nash is still here in this space. I wish he wasn’t. I wish he could let go of me and Ellis could let go of him, but we’ve somehow turned into a vicious little triangle.
“What happened between you two?” I ask, the curiosity overwhelming me.
He clears his throat. “Amsterdam happened.”
I don’t know what that means, but I wait patiently for him to expand on it, and it takes him a moment before he continues. “At first it was fun until it was serious, and when things got serious, Nash panicked. For a short moment in Amsterdam, I actually thought I had found what I needed, but then he broke everything we had built, but it was my fault. I should have known he was still fragile from what happened with his dad.”
“What was it?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“You said you found what you needed. What did you need?”
“Someone who made me want to stop…everything I was doing. Someone who needed me.”
I want to tell him I need him. After only a few days, I do need him, or rather someone like him. But I have a feeling he wants someone else to need him more.
14
Amsterdam
It’s become a bit of a habit, this little thing Ellis and I started with Britta. And now it’s other girls too, tonight a kinky little thing that goes by Lilac. She was here when I came over, sitting on the couch in black leather pants and a bra. That’s it.
I don’t leave Ellis’s apartment often. I’m here after work, on the weekends, and most nights I crash in the guest room or on especially wild nights, in Ellis’s bed with someone between us. It’s quickly starting to feel like work is just this thing that keeps me from my time here. Of course, there are days when there isn’t a fucked up three-way going on. We also have nights when we work, him at his desk, and me on the couch, pouring over manuals and test booklets. I know this shit like the back of my hand, and sometimes I ask myself why I’m even here, but Ellis keeps me grounded.
“Nash, this is Lilac,” he says from the kitchen as he pours a bottle of seltzer water into two glasses, handing one to his guest. I notice he’s not drinking tonight, and I pause.
“Hi,” I mutter, taking in the girl on the sofa. She puts up a hand to greet me, and instantly I have a weird feeling. Like something is different tonight, not a bad feeling…just a feeling.
It’s not like Ellis doesn’t have a line of women waiting for a ride every weekend, but something about this girl is different.
When I get to the kitchen, I give him a sideways glance, and he answers with a smirk, full of fucking secrets and mischief. Yeah, the asshole is up to something. Whatever it is, I’m game. I’m always game. Mostly when it comes to him. If Ellis suggests it, I’ll do it.
Ever since running into him again I feel like everything in my life plan has changed. I can hardly remember the pain I felt six months ago when I got here. Now, I see a new future, and mostly it involves freedom, money, and a lot of fucking sex. If I’m half as confident and happy as Ellis in ten years when I’m his age, I’ll be happy.
“So, Lilac and I have known each other a while,” he says, and I glance over at her. She smiles at him, like they’re in on some kind of joke. A sudden rush of dread and angst passes over me. I hate feeling like the odd man out. I fucking hate it, and Ellis knows this. “When she called me today, I wanted to have her over, but I wanted to include you. She said that was okay.”
“Okay…” I reply. There is never so much formal introduction and it’s starting to make me uncomfortable. It’s usually a scenario of drinking then fucking.
“I wouldn’t have invited her if I didn’t think you’d be okay with it.”
“Okay with what?” I ask, sick of the cryptic bullshit.
He turns toward me, his back to the counter as he takes a sip of his drink, looking too fucking cool, and yeah, I can admit it, hot. Ellis is hot. He’s tall, with a perfect sweep of amber brown hair, a warm short cut beard and broad shoulders. It doesn’t hurt that he’s always dressed well and when he looks at you, it’s with so much intensity you feel like the only person alive.
“A little bondage, some pain. She likes when I tie her up, turn her back bright red, make her beg me to come.”
My drink tries to come up through my nose, but I swallow it down. Holy shit, that came out of nowhere.
“It’s nothing serious,” he says. “Just a little fun she and I like to have fr
om time to time.”
I try to keep my emotions from showing this shit has an effect on me. Like I’m really fucking excited, curious, and…nervous.
“Of course, you’re welcome to just watch. She likes it when people watch,” he adds with a wink toward her.
“Fuck watching. I’m in.”
The smile that spreads across his cheeks makes my heart pound a little harder in my chest. Damn, Ellis has me wishing I swung both ways. He has me thinking some crazy shit lately. Like I don’t care he’s a man and has a dick. Like I don’t care that I love pussy. This man is in my head, and I don’t hate it.
After sitting around and getting to know each other for a few minutes, Ellis looks at Lilac with a lazy smirk and hooded eyes.
“Come here.”
I watch from the couch as she slides down to the floor, lust in her gaze as she crawls toward him. He’s sitting in the upholstered chair as she kneels at his feet. Something in Ellis changes as he looks down at her, stroking her chin and pulling her face up to softly kiss her lips. She keeps her hands at her side as he deepens the kiss, eliciting a low moan from her tiny body.
So far, this isn’t really any different than what we normally do. At some point, he’ll tell her to suck his dick or mine and then things will progress from there.
But then, he holds her by the chin, pulling away from the kiss. “Bedroom.”
Again, she crawls toward the room with him following close behind. When he glances back at me, I swallow. Here we fucking go.
The first thing I notice in the room are the things lying on Ellis’s bed. The first is a bundle of black rope tied together with a piece of black silk. Next to that is a paddle, nothing too big or intimidating. It’s narrow with diamond shaped cut-outs. The last thing is black leather fringe with a corded handle.
Suddenly, I wish Ellis had mixed actual drinks because right now there’s a tremor of excitement deep in my bones, and I could use something to relax me. Although I guess it makes sense why he didn’t. This isn’t shit you mess with drunk.