Everything You Need (14 page)

She cried out, trembling and jerking around him, her eyes closed and her nails cut into the skin of his shoulders.

He locked his jaw, fighting against the tide of raw bliss.
Not yet, not yet
. His hands caressed her hips and dug into the softness of her ass, as he drove even harder into her. He rammed into her, faster and faster, just moving in and out of her body, his gaze burning into her, until she for the second time contracted under him. For the last time he lunged into her, as deep as he could, as an almost painful ecstasy crashed over him. His toes curled and he froze.

The seconds ticked away, turning into minutes. Her laboured and harsh breathing caressed the side of his neck and her arms still held him.

He opened his eyes, refusing to move and to leave the warm circle of her arms. He loved her. It was so clear now. It was all
her
. He smoothed the strands stuck to her forehead and temples away before he kissed her forehead and then with his mouth slid down her nose. He pressed another chaste kiss on her lips. “I love you.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she said breathlessly, her eyes downcast.

He straightened, the shift of his body made her gasp, and he grinned down at her, while his hand cupped her cheek. “No, only to the special ones.” And she was a very special one.

Chapter 15

Only to the special ones
. Kris knew why she was special, because of the way she looked. What about Mary, the brunette who was not his girlfriend? Why did he love her? And why weren’t they dating?

“Kris, is everything all right?”

Kris blinked and lifted her head, her eyes met with the grey irises of Dr. Kress. “Everything is fine.” Everything was fine, it was just...

Dr. Kress nodded and continued leading the session, guiding the participants with her questions, but then when the session ended, she called to Kris, requesting a minute of her time.

Kris, who was about to escort her mother outside for her regular smoke, retraced her steps and returned to the room. “How can I help you?”

“I was about to ask you how can I help
you
? Close the door, please.” Dr. Kress smiled and with her hand indicated the chair beside her. “You seemed preoccupied today, like something is bothering you.”

“No, not really,” Kris said, but she closed the door and walked over to Dr. Kress anyway. She lowered herself into the chair beside her, resisting the urge to pull her legs against her chest and wrap her arms around them. She had no intention of talking about Ashton, and their sex-only relationship and the complications it brought. Actually, she didn’t even want to think about it and when she wasn’t with Ashton, she tried to erase him from her mind, as if he and what they had didn’t exist. Not that she succeeded.

“I understand you are worried. Your mother’s first free weekend is nearing; are you afraid that she might relapse again?”

She had completely forgotten about the weekend visit. How had that happened? With the tips of her fingers she rubbed her temple. “Yes, a little, because if she does...” They would come to a dead end. Another thing that she didn’t want to think about it. “We don’t have the money for her to continue her treatment. This is her last chance.”

“You should be more optimistic.”

“Being optimistic doesn’t help me. I have to be realistic.” Kris pulled her hand from under the doctor’s and hugged herself. Being optimistic and hoping for the best always brought her pain and disappointment.

“It’s not your fault.”

“What?”

“It’s not your fault that she drinks, and there’s nothing you could do to prevent it.”

“You already told me that.” After the second session they’d had.

Dr. Kress smiled. “I feel that I have to repeat it again.” She put her hand on Kris’s shoulder. “Parents don’t obey their children.” Her eyes softened. “Even in a case like yours, when the roles are reversed.”

Yes, she had experienced that first-hand. Her mother only took her into consideration when it was convenient for her, something that, even though it could still frustrate her, she was forced to accept. “Grandfather said that you can’t change people, you can only guide them and offer them your support, but what they are going to do is up to them.” And that’s what she was trying to do; give her mother support and an environment that would help her change.

“He’s right.” Dr. Kress laced her fingers. “But still, you’re the one who has to carry all the burdens. How do you feel about that?”

She was giving her treatment with questions again. Kris subtly rolled her eyes. “It sucks.”

“I can imagine.” Dr. Kress stood. “If you ever need to talk about it, my door is always open to you, and whatever you say will stay between us.”

She had a habit of closing up like a clam, Ashton had told her. He was right. Even before Peter betrayed her trust by gossiping about her problems in public, she wasn’t in the habit of sharing her troubles with people, or taking an outstretched hand offering help. She always kept everything bottled in. Why was that? Because of her hate of pity? But Dr. Kress, too used to sob stories, would never pity her. “I hate her, sometimes.”

Dr. Kress sat back.

“And I hate that I hate her.” Kris hung her head and a strand of hair fell over her face. “At home, it’s so peaceful right now, when she’s here, and I... I don’t really want her to come back, not if she means to drink again.” Not that she would ever throw her out. “I don’t know if I could go through everything all over again. And yet...” She pinched the hair between her fingers and pulled it before her eyes to stare at it. “You said yourself, getting out of rehab, their safety zone, is not the end of the treatment, but the first real test. The one that my mother failed while still in rehearsal.” Because that’s what the weekend passes were: rehearsals. “Not only once, but three times.” She sighed and glanced at the doctor.

Dr. Kress watched her with understanding in her eyes. “There are support groups that could help you through the hard times.”

“I know.” She had gone to those meetings, twice, and the thought of continuing to visit the meetings filled her with unease. She wasn’t used to sharing her thoughts, feelings and fears with others when she was with them one on one, let alone with a group of people. “But it’s not just Mum and her drinking.” There was also Ashton and the turmoil through which he put her, over and over again, no matter how low she set her expectations. She wanted to say no to him, to limit their contact to posing only, but she couldn’t. He was like fire, warm and tempting, and something she couldn’t stay away from, because she was cold inside and he made her feel alive. “I’m so tired. I’m just so tired.”

#

A hand curled around Kris’s shoulder. She looked over it at Camden, who had worry written on his face. What had she done to make him look at her this way? She gave him a smile. “Yes?”

“Where did you wander off to?” the blond asked her.

“Nowhere.”

“Then why has the table two been trying to get your attention for the last two minutes?”

“They are?” Her eyes flew to the table by the entrance door that was occupied by four people. One of them waved. She nodded in acknowledgement, wiped her hands into her apron and rushed out from behind the counter. They only wanted their check, and as soon as they got it, they paid and left. She busied herself with stacking the dirty plates and cups onto her tray.

Camden joined her. “It’s twenty minutes before the end of your shift.”

She glanced at the clock over the coffee station. “So it is.”

“Don’t give me that. I’ve seen you glancing at the clock for the last hour.” Camden leaned on the table, his arms crossed. “The same thing you have been doing almost every day. Where are you in such a hurry to go?”

“Nowhere.”

Camden lifted his eyebrows, smiling. “Are you certain?”

She rolled her eyes.

“How is your mother? Well, I hope.”

“As usual.”

He nodded. “Are you still posing for that artist?”

She shouldn’t have told them that. “I might be.”

“What’s his name?” His eyelids lowered as if he was studying her. “Kalen asked me his name, he wanted to see if he had heard of him, but I wasn’t able to answer him.”

“I told you.”

“No, you didn’t. You only muttered something.”

“It’s Ashton,” she told him, just to get him off her back.

He was silent for a moment, before he asked, “Ashton, who?”

She didn’t know his last name, she had never asked, because it was not important. “Just Ashton.” She could have added that he had a studio over the new gallery in the old town, but she didn’t.

He unlocked his arms. “How long are you going to model for him?”

“A few more hours.” There were still twelve hours she needed to work out, something that would happen much faster if she didn’t waste time sleeping with him. But she couldn’t say no to him and she couldn’t say no to herself. He was the only indulgence she had allowed herself in a long time, and she wanted to hold onto him as long as she could, despite his love for the brunette, despite that being with him hurt, and despite that the need to have something more with him grew stronger with each meeting. Even if he didn’t love Mary, with Kris’s mother so thoroughly occupying her life, there could never be a ‘them.’ As Peter had liked to reproach her, with her mother by her side, she wasn’t capable of a normal relationship.

“Be careful, please,” Camden said.

“I am.”

“Good.” He closed the distance between them and looped his arm with hers. “Now, you have to promise me that you'll take the time to join me, Rose and Callie on Friday, for a night on the town.”

“I don’t know about that”

“We are going to go out dancing, not drinking.”

She did deserve a little fun. “Okay, I’ll go.”

“Great.” He released her and bumped his hip against hers. “Clean the table and then you can clock out.”

“Yes, sir.” She smiled at him, then returned to the cleaning. It didn’t take long to take care of the dirty dishes and to go through the procedures of ending her shift. By five minutes past three, she was at the entrance of the coffee shop. She waved goodbye to her co-workers before she stepped outside and, with her hands deep in her pockets, inhaled the fresh breeze coming from the riverbank that carried the first hints of spring.

It was a nice day, with a cloudless sky and the sun dispersing the biting cold, perfect for a stroll. On her way to the gallery, she noticed that bright-coloured clothing had replaced the dark clothes on the mannequins in the boutiques’ window displays. A light blue dress in the boutique by the coffee shop near the gallery caught her eye and she stopped to admire it. It was lovely, the dress, it narrowed just under the chest and then fell down in folds. Yes, it was lovely, so lovely that she was tempted to go into the store and try it on, even though she knew that she couldn’t afford it.

“It wouldn’t suit you.”

Kris glanced at the speaker and at the sight of Mary her eyebrows furrowed. Without saying anything she fixed her gaze back on the dress.

“Just like you don’t suit
him
.”

Kris inwardly sighed before she faced her, imagining what this was all about, but she asked anyway. “What do you want?”

“You’re still here.” Mary narrowed her mouth into a line.

“Yes, I am.”

The brunette’s hands fisted. “He loves me. You heard it, didn’t you? He loves
me
.”

So Mary had seen her. “Yes, I did.” But he loved her too, or so he had said, not that she was going to mention that to Mary, who would have, if she had known, told her that he only said that because she reminded him of Kate; something that she was far too aware of already.

“So why are you still here?”

“Didn’t you tell me that you don’t mind sharing him?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Than what is the point?”

“Just seeing your face is hurting him.”

From her experience, it actually made him horny. A ghost of a smile tugged the corners of her mouth up, but she stifled it and sighed. She disliked confrontations, but she needed to show Mary that she was not a pushover. Hopefully that would put a stop to her ambushes. “I don’t know what’s between you and Ashton, and I don’t care. The last time I checked, he’s not your husband or your boyfriend --”

“He loves me!” Mary’s swung her hand, and it connected with Kris’s cheek.

Kris’s fingers flew to her face to cover the burning spot. ‘Not enough to date you,’ she was tempted to hiss; instead she shook her head, ignoring the passers-by that stared at them.

Mary glowered at her with eyes that pierced her as if she were a pincushion. “He loves me.”

“If you have a problem with him seeing me, you should discuss that with him, not me. Don’t bother me over this again,” Kris said to the girl before she sidestepped her and walked toward the gallery.

“Or what?” Mary rushed after her. Her fingers dug into Kris’s skin as she wrapped her hand around Kris’s arm. “He’s mine.”

“But apparently he doesn’t know that.” Kris shoved the hand away and hurried to the gallery. She heard the click-clack of Mary’s heels behind her, but before she could overrun her, Kris had already reached the gallery door. She shoved it open and slipped inside, a sigh of relief leaving her throat at the lack of following click-clacks. She took a deep breath, her trembling fingers caressing her cheek. Mary had slapped her with some force; she probably had a red imprint of Mary’s hand on her face.

“Hi,” Claudia, who stood behind the reception counter, greeted her.

Kris greeted her back, with a smile plastered on her face. “Is he upstairs?”

“Yes, he’s waiting for you.”

Another fake smile before she climbed up the stairs. She crossed the short hallways and with a knock on the door entered the studio.

Ashton sat on the counter by the window, a sketchpad in his hand. In the light that was pouring inside, she couldn’t distinguish whether he was sketching or browsing through it. At the sight of her, he put the sketchpad down. “Hey.” A smile appeared on his face but a second later it faded away. “You look as if you are in a bad mood. A really bad mood.” He slid off the counter.

“Yes. I just had another encounter with your girlfriend, Mary.” She took off her coat and hung it on the hanger.