Delirious, a Tame Quantum Novel Page 11

  “What about your family?” I ask.

  “My mom died from ALS when I was fifteen.”

  “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

  “It was awful. I wouldn’t wish that disease on my worst enemy. My dad remarried a couple of years after she died and had a second family with his new wife. They live in Louisiana, and my three half-siblings are in high school now. We don’t see much of them.”

  “No other siblings?”

  “Just me.”

  “We have that in common. I always wanted brothers. Flynn, Jasper and the others at Quantum are the siblings I never had.”

  “Do you understand why I told you about Rex?”

  “I think so.”

  “I don’t do secrets, Kristian. That’s my line in the sand.”

  I have so many secrets, things I’ve never told anyone, that it would take a lifetime to share them all with her. This would be a really good time to tell her I can’t do this. I can’t be what she wants or needs, because my secrets would horrify her. I should get up and leave. I should walk out her door and never look back. But I can’t bring myself to move, to do what I know I should. I don’t know how to share that part of myself with her, because I’ve never shared it with anyone.

  We all have our secrets, as we found out recently when we learned that Henry Kingsley is Jasper’s father, and Jasper is a British marquess in line to inherit a dukedom. I come from the opposite end of the social spectrum, the side that people tend to overlook and forget about.

  “Kristian?”

  When she says my name, I realize I’ve zoned out and left her hanging. I take her hand, linking our fingers, unable to be this close to her without wanting to touch her. “I don’t know how to do this.”

  “To do what?”

  “This. A real relationship. I’ve never done it before.”

  “Ever?”

  I shake my head, feeling the old bite of shame at having to admit such a thing. How does a man get to almost thirty-seven years old without ever having a girlfriend? I’ll tell you how, and it’ll give you nightmares. “I keep telling myself that I should go, that I should walk away while I still can, but it’s already too late for that. I can’t make myself go when I know it would be the best thing for you and your kids.”

  “Why do you say that, Kristian? I want to understand what you think is so wrong with you.”

  “Everything is wrong with me.”

  She sighs with exasperation as I tell her nothing and everything at the same time. “I don’t know what that means.”

  I keep my gaze fixed on our joined hands, needing that connection in more ways than one. “You and your kids, you’re a family. Until I became part of Quantum, I’d never been part of a family before.”

  Her eyes fill with sympathy that makes me mad. I don’t want her to feel sorry for me. But I don’t let her see the anger. As always, I bury it deep inside with a lifetime’s worth of rage. “What about your parents?”

  “I never knew my father, and my mother was murdered when I was three.”

  She gasps. “Oh my God, Kristian…”

  “I’ve never told anyone that. Even my closest friends don’t know.”

  I expect her to ask me why I haven’t told them, but she doesn’t. Rather, she releases my hand, moves closer and puts her arms around me, her fingers sliding into my hair. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

  She doesn’t know the half of what happened to me.

  “Do you… Do you remember her?”

  “Vividly. I also remember hiding in the closet when she was killed. He never knew I was there.”

  She tightens her hold on me, and in her arms, I’m the little boy who watched the life leave his mother, who was left alone with her body for four endless days until someone heard me crying and called the cops. Every minute of those four days is seared into my memory, never to be forgotten no matter how much I wish it could be.

  “What happened to you? Afterward?”

  “I survived.”

  My heart breaks for the three-year-old who lost his mother to murder.

  He raises his head, his gaze fierce. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. That’s not why I told you.”

  “I can still be sorry that such a thing happened to you, can’t I?”

  “I’ve worked long and hard not to be defined by the things that happened to me before I had control of my life. I don’t tell people about it because I don’t want to be pitied.”

  That word… Control… It stands out to me after what Natalie told me about his sexual preferences. I’m filled with desire and curiosity. I want to know everything there is to know about him.

  “I understand,” I tell him, even if the lump in my throat makes a liar out of me.

  “I heard you when you said you don’t do secrets, and I respect that, but there are things I just don’t talk about because it’s shit I’d rather forget than resurrect.”

  I have so many questions, but I can’t ask. Not now anyway.

  “You should tell me to go.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you deserve someone who can be tender and sweet with you and your kids. That’s not me.”

  “How can you say that after the way you took care of Maddie and me last night? Or how you made sure we had everything we needed when we moved? How can you say that when you kiss me the way you do and touch me with such reverence?”

  He stares at me, seeming stunned by the revelations.

  “I want you to do something for me,” I say, summoning the courage I’ll need to take the next step with this complicated, sexy man.

  “I’d do anything for you.”

  Does he hear himself? He’s saying everything I’ve ever wanted to hear from a man—and he means every word he says to me. That alone is such a priceless gift after what I went through with Rex. “I want you to stop warning me off you. I’m a big girl, and I can make my own decisions for myself and my children. I want you in our lives, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “You don’t know everything you should to make that decision.”

  “I should be warning you off me.”

  “What? Why?”

  “In case you haven’t heard, I’ve been diagnosed with a sometimes-fatal illness that is currently under control but leaves a huge question mark hanging over the rest of my life. You’d be crazy to get involved with me. Not to mention I have two little kids who’ll always be in the way of whatever is happening between us.”

  For the first time in a while, a smile tugs at his lips. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

  “I’m not being clever. I’m simply stating that I’m not the best risk either.”

  His big hand cups my face as he stares down at me. “Please don’t talk about you dying. That’s not going to happen.”

  “It will someday.”

  “But not any time soon.”

  “You can’t possibly know that.”

  “I know it,” he says as he brings his lips down on mine, kissing me with a fierceness he hasn’t shown me before now.

  I slide my arms around his neck and fall into the kiss that sets my body on fire for more of him.

  Apparently, it does the same to him, because he ends up on top of me, the hard ridge of his erection pressed against my core. I raise my hips, needing more, and he groans into my mouth.

  “You make me so crazy, Aileen. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

  His confession makes me feel light-headed and empowered—a heady combination.

  I lay my hand on his chest and begin to unbutton his shirt, wanting to feel his skin next to mine. I’m immediately hit with fears that he’ll find my body unattractive. I have scars and stretch marks and sharp hip bones. The thought has me stopping halfway through the job of unbuttoning his shirt.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not really back to where I was before I got sick. You might think—”

  “I think you’re beautiful, sexy and desi
rable.” His lips skim over the sensitive skin on my neck. “If you knew how much time I spend thinking about you, you’d have another reason to run away from me.”

  My fingers dig into his muscular bicep. I don’t remember desire feeling like this, or maybe it’s just that nothing has ever felt quite like this. I’m on the verge of forgetting my kids are asleep right across the hall. “I think about you just as much.”

  His hand is on my leg, sliding up under my skirt. “We need to talk about some things before this goes any further.”

  “What things?” I ask, barely able to string together two words while I wait to see what he’ll do.

  “Things like limits and safe words and what it really means to submit.”

  I swallow hard and realize I’m trembling.

  “Does that frighten you?”

  I shake my head. “It excites me.”

  Exhaling, he drops his head to my chest. “Aileen…”

  I run my fingers through his hair because I’ve wanted to for so long, and now I can any time I want. “What’s wrong?”

  He raises his head to meet my gaze. “I’m trying to figure out how I’ll survive until I can have you to myself on Saturday.”

  I finish unbuttoning his shirt and push it open as I raise my hips, hoping he’ll take the hint to keep going.

  “The kids…”

  “Are asleep. Nothing wakes them after they’re asleep. It’s okay.”

  Groaning, he cups me over my underwear. “So hot and wet.”

  “That’s all for you.”

  He withdraws his hand and lies back on the bed, arm over his face, leaving me to wonder what’s wrong. “Sorry,” he says after a long silence. “I… If I touch you the way I want to, I won’t be able to stop, and we can’t do what I want to do with your kids across the hall.”

  My heart—and the rest of me—goes haywire as I imagine the things he wants to do. I have a feeling my imagination is no match for the reality of him. I let my gaze travel down his chest to the huge bulge in his pants that has me reaching out, before I even consciously decide to, and placing my hand on that rigid flesh.

  His groan is quickly becoming one of my favorite sounds. “Aileen…”

  “Let me.”

  When his hands fall to his sides, I recognize his surrender and get up on wobbly legs to shut and lock my bedroom door. Returning to the bed, I unbuckle his belt and free him from his pants, gasping at the size of him. Dear God. For the longest time, all I can do is stare.

  “Sweetheart, you’re killing me here.”

  “I haven’t done… anything… in a long time. That’s not going to fit.”

  He cracks up laughing. “Wait till you see all the places it’ll fit.”

  My face is on fire with desire as an array of salacious images flashes through my mind like a raunchy movie starring the sexiest man I’ve ever met. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

  Smiling, he covers my hand with his and shows me how he likes to be touched. “Yes,” he says, “just like that.” He closes his eyes and sinks back into a pillow.

  Leaning over him, I draw the broad head into my mouth and apply gentle suction.

  “Oh fuck… Aileen… Oh my God. Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t stop.” The words are like a chant. He guides me with a hand on the back of my head as I take as much of him as I can—which isn’t much, but that doesn’t seem to matter to him. “Aileen, honey…” He gives my hair a gentle tug to dislodge me. Grasping his cock, he directs it away from my face and comes all over his chest.

  Watching him lose control is the sexiest freaking thing I’ve ever seen. I get up to grab a towel out of the bathroom and use it to clean him up. He watches me intently, and when I’m done, he takes my hand and gives a gentle tug to bring me down on top of him.

  Wrapping his arms around me, he says, “Tell me to go.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want you to go.” I drop my gaze to his lips, and the next thing I know, he’s turned us so I’m under him and he’s kissing me again like his life depends on it. My dress is raised up and over my head, leaving me in a skimpy pair of panties and a bra that fortunately match. He releases the front clasp of my bra and pushes the cups aside, bringing my chest into contact with his.

  At that moment, I can’t be bothered worrying about scars or bones or stretch marks, not when his heat is all around me and his big body is anchoring me to the bed.

  “Wait,” he says when I begin to squirm, looking for more. “I want to remember what this feels like.” He drops his head to my shoulder.

  I wrap my arms around him, and we stay like that for a long while.

  “I think this might be the single most perfect moment of my entire life,” he says after a long silence.

  The emotion I hear in his voice makes my heart flutter in response to him. “The first of many.”

  Chapter 11

  He kisses me again, so hard that my lips will be bruised tomorrow, but I can’t be worried about the future when the present requires my full attention. Then he’s kissing his way down the front of me, and I freeze, worried about the scars from my surgery and how he might react to them.

  “Kristian, wait…” I try to cover my left breast, the site of the lumpectomy.

  He nudges my hand out of his way. “I have scars, too. Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Everything about you is beautiful to me, especially the part about you being alive and here with me.”

  It’s the perfect thing for him to say, and I don’t resist when he moves my hands to my sides. I let him take a good long look at the part of me that I’d never let anyone see if it were up to me. He kisses a line from the bottom of the scar to the top, which is right below my nipple. I have another scar in my armpit where the node was removed.

  “You said it’s been a long time for you. How long are we talking?”

  “Since Rex.”

  He draws in a deep breath, holds it, releases it. “We need a safe word, something that stops everything if you aren’t digging what’s going on.”

  “Am I going to be unsafe with you?”

  “Never,” he says fiercely. “You’ve never been safer than you are with me.”

  I’ve seen him eight times in my life, and I already know that’s true. “Then why do I need a safe word?”

  “Because that’s how this works. You have a way to stop it at any time. That’s the only way this works.”

  “What will we do that I might want to stop?”

  “We’ll do everything.”

  “That’s too vague.” I drag my finger down his chest to his abdomen, outlining each muscle and loving the way they quiver under my touch. “Tell me what you like.”

  He captures my hand and stretches it up and over my head. “I want to bind you to the bed so you can’t move and blindfold you so you can’t see. I want you totally defenseless against what I might do to you. I want you to wonder what’s coming next. I want you on the razor’s edge of desire so sharp, it hurts.”

  Holy shit. I’m already there, from his words alone. But it’s more than the words. It’s the heat in his eyes and the gruff tone of his voice that put me there.

  “Does any of that frighten you?”

  “No,” I say, but the quiver in my voice gives me away. “Is there more?”

  “So much more.” He cups my breast and pinches my nipple, lightly at first, but then with increasingly more pressure. “How would you feel about clamps?” His expression changes. “Ah, fuck. Forget that. I never should’ve asked you that.”

  I’m having trouble keeping up. “Why?”

  “You had breast cancer. Of course you don’t want nipple clamps. I was out of line asking you that.”

  I cover his hand, which is now flat on my belly. “I like that you forgot, even for a moment, that I had cancer and treated me like any other woman.”

  “You’re not like any other woman.”

  His sweet words go straight to my heart. “I want to be n
ormal again, Kristian. If you treat me like I’m still sick, that’ll hurt me.”

  “So that’s a yes to nipple clamps?” he asks with a teasing smile.

  “That’s a yes to everything.”

  “You have no idea what everything entails.”

  “I want to know, and I want you to teach me.”

  Groaning, he drops his head to my chest. “I can’t talk about this anymore tonight, or I won’t be responsible for what happens with your kids across the hall.”

  Knowing he wants me so badly is such a huge turn-on. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been more aroused in my life than I am right now. I shift my legs, seeking relief from the relentless ache.

  “Is someone feeling needy?” he asks.

  “Mmm.” I stroke his hair and back, wanting to touch him everywhere now that I’m allowed to indulge the many fantasies I’ve had about him since we first met.

  “We can’t have that.” He kisses a path straight down the front of me, using his lips and tongue to set me on fire for him while he cups my breasts and gently runs his thumbs over my tight nipples.

  I feel his teeth against my hip bone and nearly levitate off the bed.

  “Easy, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

  I’m a quivering, trembling mess of tingling nerve endings by the time he eases my panties down my legs, tossing them aside as he kneels on the bed between my legs, his hands flat against my thighs as he gazes down at what he’s uncovered. I wonder if he can see how wet I am and begin to feel embarrassed.

  “Stop thinking I don’t like what I see. Look at me.”

  I force my eyes to open and meet that intense gaze that’s becoming so familiar to me.

  “Can you see how hard I am for you?”

  I drop my eyes to his groin, where his huge, hard cock indicates that he likes what he sees. He likes it very much.

  “Any questions?”

  “No,” I say with a nervous laugh.

  “I never again want you to think you’re anything other than perfect to me. Do you hear me?”

  I nod.

  “The proper response would be ‘Yes, Sir.’”