Waking Kiss Page 18

  I brought in our bags and fired up the wood stove in some effort to settle her. She perched on the edge of the bed while I double-checked the locks and shut the window blinds.

  “Are we— Do we follow our rules here?” she asked. “The rules we follow in the guest room?”

  I turned back to her, considering. “I don’t think this weekend should be about D/s, but I like being in charge of you. I think everything works better between us when I’m in charge.”

  “When you’re around me I feel like you’re in charge,” she said.

  “Someone can be in charge though, and not abusive. I have authority over you but…”

  “But I have power too. I know.” She didn’t say it in a smartass way. She stood and crossed to me, and took my hand. “I don’t know how I’m going to thank you for all this, for all the help you’ve given me. You’ve changed me. Even if this doesn’t end up working…”

  I studied her as she skittered away from me again. “Do you think it’s not going to work?”

  Ashleigh shrugged and stood near the window, peering out through a crack in the blinds. “My dance teacher wrote me. I know that you sent money to her.”

  “She deserved it. She helped you.”

  “So what can I do for you?” she asked. “What can I possibly do for you, to thank you?”

  “Get better. That’s all. Get better and be happier. You deserve a happy life.”

  “Like yours?”

  I slowed on the way across the room. “Well, yes. Like mine. A life where you feel comfortable and content. Where you have all the things you want, the relationships you want, all of that.” I was the world’s biggest hypocrite and liar, holding my life up as an example of happiness. But we weren’t here to fix my issues. We were here to fix hers.

  When I reached her I tilted her face to mine in the dim light. “You’re so beautiful, Ash. You always have been. If I changed you in some way that makes your life better, that’s all I need as thanks.”

  I stared down at her, at her pale blue-gray eyes and her sensual lips. There was a time I’d thought of her as an object too. If she hadn’t been troubled and sad, and damaged due to her childhood, what would our relationship have been like? I would have fucked her that night, I was sure. And since she was mostly vanilla, that probably would have been it. I wouldn’t have given her my number, even if the sex was really awesome. I might have noticed her in ballets now and again, remembering our torrid night together. It would have been easy and pleasant. I wouldn’t have had to spend the last few weeks fighting with myself, questioning all my life choices. I definitely wouldn’t be standing here now, half afraid it would work and half afraid it wouldn’t.

  If it worked, I would have to start letting her go.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I said. I didn’t know where the words came from, I just knew I meant them passionately. Maybe, more accurately, I could have said I love you because the sentiment was the same. Holy God.

  “You won’t hurt me.” She gave me a tremulous smile. “I feel really ready. You’ve been a great teacher.”

  I traced her brow, then cupped her cheek and kissed her parted lips. It was so quiet, so still. No hovering Mem, no parties, no music blasting in the background, no computer, no TV, and for her, no backstage hustle-bustle. She smelled like flowers and baby powder and her hair felt like silk. I’d never brought anyone here to my hideaway because I didn’t think they’d appreciate it, but Ashleigh belonged here. If it wasn’t so cold I would have taken her outside under the stars and made love to her on the ground, on the earth. This is what it should be like, I would have told her. Beautiful and fearless, tender and affectionate and rough and elemental…

  “Ashleigh,” I sighed. “I want you. I want to hold you down and be inside you. I won’t hurt you, I swear.”

  She blinked at me, then stared down at my chest. I owed her a big seduction—she deserved a big seduction—but I felt too raw to work my game on her. That was for other girls. With Ashleigh I wasn’t a player, but someone else. A lover. A friend. “Are you ready now?” I asked. My voice sounded strained, almost desperate.

  “We should get it out of the way, huh?” She gave me a comic, panicked look that started both of us laughing.

  “Yes, let’s get it over with,” I said, playing along with her. “The sooner the better.”

  We undressed, layers of clothing coming off until we were skin to skin. I felt pressure, yes, but I also felt an almost painful lust. We’d had weeks of foreplay, lessons on personal boundaries and consent, explorations into the lifestyle. I was achingly hard from wanting her. I nudged her back onto the bed and lay down beside her. She squiggled right against me, into the circle of my arms, seeking protection or encouragement. I drew her close and hugged her tight.

  “We can go slow,” I said. “We can take our time. All the time you need. We can do it an hour from now. We can do it tomorrow.”

  “No,” she said. “Now. Please. I know I’m ready. I’m not scared.”

  “You feel a little scared. You’re shivering.”

  “I’m nervous, not scared. It’s not the same.” She reached between us, taking my cock in her hands, and smiled as she noted its rigid length. “You don’t feel scared or nervous. At all.”

  That touch alone was almost enough to set me off. “I’m not nervous, no. I’m turned on like hell because you’re so lovely, so beautiful. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

  “Just don’t…” Her confidence seemed to waver for a moment. “Please just…be careful. Don’t be too rough.”

  I won’t be like him. Never like him. “Ashleigh, look at me.” I held her close, cupped her face and ran my thumb across the satiny texture of her cheek. “Just remember, the fear is all in your head. Don’t hang on to those old wounds, those old experiences. Let them go. It’s here. It’s now. I’m here and I want to make you feel good. Trust me to be careful with you.”

  “I know. I know you’ll be careful.” She touched my cock again, cradling it in her hands. “I know I’m ready. I’m just a little nervous now that the moment is here.”

  “Baby…” I was going to come in a second, if she didn’t stop stroking me. She’d gone on the Pill so we didn’t have to use a condom, but I almost wished for one, to desensitize me, to help me last a little longer. I worried that as soon as I got inside her I’d go off like a bomb. “Baby, I want to touch you first, make you feel good. Make you feel excited for me.”

  I knew all the spots that got her hot and wet. I kneaded her ass and pinched her nipples, reveling in her responsiveness. She’d come so far in her ability to enjoy this, to trust me, and I wanted to be worthy of that trust. I ran a hand down her body, from her sculpted shoulder to her beautifully shaped breasts and down to her flat, tight stomach. I parted her pussy lips, finding her clit, moving my hips against hers. I just want to help you. I just want to help you…

  She was wet, so wet. I grasped my cock and nudged her legs open, settling her onto her back. “Look at me,” I said. “Everything will be okay.”

  Her eyes fixed on mine, wide and intent with feeling. Her fingers dug into my arms but she didn’t fight my forward motion. She was breathing fast and hard as I arched my hips against hers and eased into her oh, so slowly. I studied her face, noting every flitting twitch and expression. Every second felt like an hour because I was so afraid of losing her. I was afraid of her calling everything to a halt, jumping up and running away, but she didn’t. She smiled at me and moved her fingers down to my hips, pulling me deeper inside her. That pressure of her fingers—it was the most wonderful feeling in the history of the earth.

  “Oh, baby, wow.” My voice rasped between us in the silence. I could have died from the tightness of her pussy. She said something in reply, yes or oh. I could barely think to decipher the sounds. I stroked her hair and leaned down to kiss her, intently, then voraciously. As I explored her sweet mouth, my cock found her center, pressing deep. We were fully joined together, my pulsing hardness embedd
ed in her heat.

  After so many days, so many hours of effort, we were connected with nothing but trust between us. She stared up at me, and I swear the deeper I thrust inside her, the deeper I fell in love with her.

  It was disaster, and bliss.

  *** *** ***

  Liam, Liam, Liam… I’d feared panic and terror-filled blindness, but my only thought was Liam. He was above me, around me, pushing into me and it didn’t hurt.

  So this was sex. Making love. It was wonderful. It felt like force and yet it felt beautifully tender, like being hugged from the inside. He was big and hard, but not scary. He cradled me in his arms and filled me until there wasn’t room for anything else. In, out, deeper and deeper. I wrapped my legs around his, needing him as close as possible, and even when he crushed me a little it felt okay.

  I didn’t even care about a climax. I was too caught up in this amazing new world where sex wasn’t horrible and I didn’t feel the urge to run to the bathroom and vomit in revulsion. For the first time in my life, I was enjoying the experience of having a man inside me. That it was Liam—tall, strong, gentle, rough Liam—that made it even better. He drew my hands over my head and held them as he made love to me with infinite care. I tried to explain to him what I was feeling, in gasping, worshipful whispers, but then it all became too much for words. Pleasure took over, a building fullness above and beyond the fullness of his cock stretching me, and when it peaked…

  I strained where his hands held me and shuddered as my pussy contracted around his length. He pressed inside me hard and rested his forehead against mine, and I felt so close to him, closer than I’d felt to anyone else in my life. Tears filled my eyes and squeezed from between my lids.

  He arched against me and made a noise like he was dying. He released my hands and I clung to him, hiding my face in the soft, flowing curtain of his hair. His arm came around my waist and he lifted me right against him. It felt like dancing—hot, violent dancing. He collapsed on me, heavy and still, his cock twitching inside me. I buried my face against his chest.

  “Please don’t let go,” I whispered.

  “I won’t.” His voice sounded harsh with his own short breath. His fingers moved over my back, a light, soft touch like velvet. After a while, after he pulled away and we were breathing normally again, he bent his head to mine. “Ashleigh, baby. I think it worked.”

  I grinned and closed my fingers in his hair. “I think so too. I never imagined it could feel like that, that it could feel so good. It was nothing at all like I…” Like I remembered. We both filled in the words but I didn’t want to say them. I didn’t want my father to have any part of this moment, any part of this experience between us. All I wanted to remember was this closeness and my feeling of finally being normal. There was nothing wrong with me, and nothing to keep me from doing this again and again with whomever I wanted.

  But I only wanted Liam. “Can we do it again?” I asked.

  He didn’t make me beg. We did it again, and then again. The last time I started to feel sore but I didn’t care. I was insatiable, like a sugar-deprived child let loose in a candy store. I was binging on sex, but it was more than that. It was a connection to Liam, something above and beyond lessons and advice.

  After the third time, we slept the sleep of the dead, Sleeping Beauty’s hundred-year sleep, and woke up still reaching for each other.

  Well, this was why we’d come here. Why not fuck and fuck and fuck? We ate and drank right in the bed, only to gain the necessary energy for more sex. The second day, when I started to flinch at each thrust, when my body couldn’t keep up with the demands of accommodating his size, he brought out lubricant and we kept going, slipping and sliding together. By Monday afternoon we’d had sex at least ten times, in several creative positions. I loved the way he moved me around, the way he pinched and stroked me, and slapped my ass sometimes, and basically did whatever he liked.

  But that was why I’d chosen him to help me in the first place. He knew what he was doing. He hadn’t let me down. “Thank you,” I said the second day, as we lay resting together. “You fixed me.”

  He chuckled and pressed his forehead to mine. “And then I think I broke you again.”

  You didn’t break me, Liam. You saved me. He was so talented, this man. He could open locked doors and heal broken women. He was patient and seductive, and oh, so caring. I could have stared into his eyes for hours, but I was afraid he’d see the guilty truth in my gaze. I’m in love with you, Liam Wilder. I was head over heels in love with this man. I loved him hard enough to marry him if he asked.

  He sobered and ran a hand over my waist, and up to my neck, like he was measuring me. “Beautiful girl,” he said. “You’ll make someone so happy.”

  I almost flinched. How could he say such a thing, just as I started planning our fantasy wedding? It hurt me so badly that I blurted out stuff I shouldn’t have. “Why not you?” I drew back to look at him. “Why can’t I make you happy?”

  “You do make me happy.” He traced across my cheek bones, avoiding my gaze. “But you should meet someone who can make you happy. Who’ll give you all the things you deserve.”

  “You make me happy,” I persisted, even though his expression wasn’t welcoming. It was like he’d heard the words in my head and was arguing against them. I closed my eyes, fighting a wave of tears. He didn’t say anything for a long time but I felt the band of his arms around me loosen a little.

  I bit my lip, determined not to say anything else, wishing I hadn’t said so much to begin with. I sounded pathetic, whining for him to want me. This was Liam, who could have any woman he wanted, whose play room was filled to the hilt with sexy, available sirens every Saturday night.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “That was out of line. Forgive me.”

  “Stop,” he said, touching my lips.

  “I just… I know. I remember. This was supposed to be no strings attached. I forgot for a minute because I felt so close to you.”

  He sat up in an abrupt motion. “Jesus. Speaking of remembering…” He took my hand and squeezed it. “I was supposed to check in at the office an hour ago. Maybe you should get some rest.”

  I swallowed hard. “You’re calling in to work?”

  He nodded. My close, warm, slippery-sliding Liam wasn’t there anymore. This was the Sir side of him, that was focused and businesslike. “It’s okay,” he said. “You could probably use a nap. Do you need anything? Something to eat or drink?”

  “No, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I forget sometimes that everyone in the world doesn’t have Monday off.”

  “Okay.” He moved to go but then turned back and gave me a peck on the lips that felt as cold and impersonal as a handshake. I forced a smile to answer his fake smile, swallowing back the emotion choking my throat.

  He dressed and grabbed his phone off the table. I closed my eyes and lay back in the fluffy counterpane, hugging his pillows against me. They smelled like him, the man I wished would fall in love with me. I’d gotten what I asked for, and now I wanted more, which is what he’d warned me would happen. I can’t say no to what you’re asking, but I’m afraid I’ll hurt you in this process. I won’t mean to, but I will.

  Now I’d freaked him out, pressured him for a deeper relationship. I heard him talking on the phone outside, and it sounded business-y, but he could have been setting up his next date. I shut it all out. My feelings, his voice, his scent on the pillows and the memory of his lackluster kiss. I wiped my lips on my hand and forced my eyes closed. At some point, I must have slept, because next I knew Liam was sitting beside me on the bed, nudging me awake.

  “Hey,” he said. “You’ve been sleeping a couple hours. How do you feel?”

  I nodded through the haze of fading dreams. “I’m fine.”

  He brushed my hair back when it fell over my eyes. “I’m sorry to do this to you, but something came up at work. A touchy situation, and the office is in an uproar.”

  Lies. Horrible lies. “If you
need to go, we can go,” I said, using every ounce of my strength to sound casual. “We accomplished what we came here to do.”

  “We did,” he said, seizing on my words. “And it was amazing. Honestly, Ashleigh, I’m so proud of you. I hope it was all you wanted. I hope you feel…”

  “Fixed?” I took his hand to still its nervous motion. “I feel wonderful, Liam. And now I feel well-rested too. But you must be tired.”

  He shrugged. “I’m used to working through that. I’ll be fine. Maybe in a few days, after you have some time to recuperate, we can meet up again.”

  To have sex? To have dinner? To say our final goodbyes? He didn’t specify and I was afraid to ask. I was afraid to press him now when he seemed so desperate to get away from me. Maybe in a few days, with a little space, he’d realize there were things he liked about me, perhaps enough things to…

  Oh God, I was back to creating impossible fantasies. I might as well be scrapbooking about Rubio again. Liam had done what I’d asked him to do, at great personal and emotional expense. He’d gone out of his way to help me, and now I had to let go of him the way I’d promised. “I’ll get dressed,” I said, throwing back the covers. It was cold in the room, and not just because of the weather. “I’ll be ready in a minute, if you want to start packing the car.”

  Chapter Fifteen: Free and Clear

  “Liam. Liam, dear?”

  I looked up at the sound of my stepmom’s voice. My dinner plate was cooling in front of me. “Yes? I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening.”

  She put the back of her hand to my forehead. “Do you feel all right? Are you getting enough sleep?”

  I smiled at her, the best smile I could muster. “Not really, but when do I ever?”

  It was Sunday, and tomorrow was Monday, the day Ashleigh would have come over, except that I had messaged her and told her not to come. I told her work was still hectic—and it was. But it always was. She’d messaged back with chipper, depressing acceptance.

  That’s okay. I understand. : )