I, Porn Star (I #1) (37 page)

My throat clogs all
over again. I try to get up to fetch his pills. His surprisingly strong grip on
my arm holds me still.

“Don’t go,” he
pleads. “I need you to forgive me, Elyse. Please.”

I shake my head. “I
need to get up, Quinn. To get your pills.”

He tenses. “What
pills?”

“You wouldn’t
stop throwing up. The doctor came.”

A tinge of
embarrassment flushes across his face. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

He releases me. I
fill a glass with water and shake out a couple of pills. He sits up and
swallows them without complaint. He sets the glass down and spears me with surprisingly
piercing eyes. “Elyse, tell me what I need to do. I’ll do anything.”

“Can you stand
up? I love the under floor heating and everything, but it’s going to play havoc
on your bones and mine if we keep sleeping on the tiles.”

He gives a short
nod and staggers to his feet. In silence, we return to the bedroom and he
slides into bed. I arrange the covers over him, but when I step away, he grabs
my arm.

“Stay.” The voice
is Quinn’s but I hear Q’s power behind it. I can’t help the shiver that runs
through me. How the hell could I have missed the visceral connection? “Please,
stay.”

My gaze finds
his. Piercing blue eyes plead. My head moves in a nod.

I remove my shoes
and get into bed in the jeans and tank top I wore to travel. Quinn turns
sideways to face me and the intensity in his eyes grows.

“Can we talk?” he
enquires solemnly. “I’ve missed you, Elly. God…so much.” He stops and takes a
deep breath. “I need to know how to make you forgive me. Show you how sorry I
am for what I did.”

I nod cautiously.
“We can talk, when you’re better. Sleep now. I’ll fix us something to eat when
you wake up and we’ll take it from there, okay?”

His eyes gleam.
“You’re still obsessed with food.”

“And you look
like you’ve given up on it.”

His expression
turns mournful and dark and he looks away. “Giving up is surprisingly easy when
you have nothing left in life to look forward to.”

My heart weeps. I
cup his face and compel his attention back to me. “Don’t say that, Quinn.”
 

He heaves a sigh
and lays his hand over mine to imprison it against his cheek. He falls asleep
that way. I watch him breathe, dream. Knowing that the love I confessed three
months ago outside the loft, still burns as bright.

I must fall
asleep too. I jerk awake to the sound of fresh vomiting. But this time, when I
rush to his aid, he’s not crumbled on the floor. He stays on his feet
throughout. And the bout lasts only a few minutes. When he tugs his clothes off
and staggers into the shower, I follow.

“Are you okay?”

He nods, but his
whole body is caught in relentless shudders. His hand slips when he tries to
turn on the spray.

Without a second
thought, I strip down to my panties and top and join him in the shower. If he
hears me, he doesn’t make a move to acknowledge me. He just stands there with
his forehead against the wall, his chest heaving.

I turn on the
shower and wrap my arms around him. Hot water cascades over us, and after a few
minutes, his shivering dies down enough for me to release him. I grab a
washcloth and shower gel and bathe him from head to toe.

His cock stirs
when I wash his groin and when his gaze catches mine, his mouth twitches.

That little smile
gives me wild hope. He raises his arms and turns around to let me rinse him
off.

When I’m done, he
eyes my sodden top. “You’re wet.”

“Yep.”

I wait, a part of
me wanting him to do something about it. But for the first time, I see
hesitation in his eyes. I catch the hem of the shirt and tug it over my head.
Wild eyes immediately land on my chest. He makes a pained sound at the back of
his throat, but he still makes no move to grab me. I don’t know whether to be
sad or impressed.

“No bra,” he
states gruffly.

I shake my head.
“Was in a hurry to get to the airport.”

He lifts one
brow. I duck my head and quickly step out of my panties and rinse the
transferred suds off my body. When I’m done he follows me out. The towel I
intend to pass him stays clutched in my fist as I look him over. His body is
still drop-jaw magnificent, but it’s suffered changes.

“You’ve lost
weight, Quinn. I don’t like it.”

A twinge of
emotion passes over his face. “I couldn’t…didn’t want to live. Not without…”
Wary eyes meet mine. “Elyse…”

“Here’s what’s
going to happen. You’re going to take the pills. You’re going to eat. You’re
going to get better. Then we’ll talk about us. Do you want there to be an us,
Quinn?”

His nostrils
quiver as he takes in a huge breath. “More than I want my next heartbeat.”

My lips purse. My
eyes drop to his elbow, the almost invisible scars I noticed when I washed him.
“See, that’s the thing. I want you to
want
your next heartbeat. So hearing you say that makes my heart ache. It also makes
me mad.”

He frowns for a
sec. “Okay.”

“What does that
mean, okay?”

His eyes sizzle
where they’re riveted on my chest. “It means let’s get the
fuck
out of
this bathroom and get some clothes on before this hard on kills me.”

My eyes drop to
the killer erection he’s sporting and shocked laughter bursts out of me.

Okay, so Alpha
Quinn isn’t quite down and out.

I hand him the
towel. His movements are a little slow, but he dries himself off just fine. He
takes the pills I pass him and we head to his dressing room. He pulls on shorts
and hands me one of his T-shirts.

We fall back into
bed and he’s asleep in minutes. I take the time he’s sleeping to check messages
and call Vancouver to let them know I’ve arrived and will be staying for an
indeterminate period. In the kitchen, I find boxed up ready meals in the fridge
that I missed before in my agitation. I heat up pasta and sauce, grate Parmesan
over it and set out the meal on a tray.

Quinn is up,
staring the screen when I return to the bedroom. He turns it off when I walk
in, but his gaze searches mine.

“What?” I ask as
I set the tray on his lap.

He nods to the
TV. “You saw what I was watching.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you mad?” he
asks warily.

 
“That depends.”

“On?”

“Why were you watching
it?”

He catches hold
of my wrist and rubs his thumb across my pulse. “I want to see you. All the
time,” he whispers fervidly. “You probably want me to get rid of it, but
I…can’t.”

I swallow,
allowing just a little hope to build. “Why?”

“Because it
helps…it keeps me…here. Because without that connection, I don’t think I can go
on. I need it, Elyse. I
need
you.”

“Okay. That’s a good
start.”

“It is?” His
voice is rough with hope.

“Yes. Eat,
Quinn.”

He polishes off
the meal in record time. I return the tray to the kitchen. He takes another
dose of his pills, and I climb into bed with him. I allow him to pull me close
and we watch normal TV until we fall asleep.

The pattern
continues for three days.

On Friday morning,
I wake up alone in bed. I jerk upright and force myself to listen for sounds of
distress. The bathroom is quiet.

“Quinn?” He
doesn’t answer to the call. I touch the pillow next to mine. It’s cold. I’m
about to go in search of him when he walks in. He’s carrying a tray. And he’s
wearing jeans and a T-shirt, with a baseball cap tucked into his back pocket.

“You’ve been
out?”

He nods. “Was in
the mood for fresh bagels. I slathered yours with cream cheese, just the way
you like it.”

He waits until I
sit up and sets the tray down before taking a seat opposite. I salivate at the
smell of pastry and he smirks as he passes me a bagel.

“Eat.”

His dominant side
has been creeping back in over the last forty-eight hours. Now he’s getting
stronger, I need to state a few home truths and establish some ground rules
before we go any further.

I finish the
bagel, coffee and juice he sets before me. My breath catches when he leans
forward and brushes the corner of my mouth.

“Cream cheese,”
he states, before he licks his thumb.

Heat spikes
through me. I watch hunger grow in his own eyes and I know our impasse is
coming to an end. Once our meal is cleared away, he undresses and gets back into
bed. I try to take my eyes off his body to focus on what I need to say.

“We need to clear
up a few things.”

He nods. “Yes.”

“The whole Q thing.
It was a little more than just a film to you, wasn’t it?”

Pain slashes
across his eyes. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Maxwell and his
friends were part of the group who bid for those types of films. I set the
first one up as bait. Maxwell was the highest bidder of Q’s first production
and every one after that. It gave me a kick to take his money and donate it to
charity, while I knew I’d humiliate him eventually with the irony of what he
was paying for.”

My heart aches
but I nod. “Okay, I understand how things rolled with Q and Lucky. I’m not
really upset about that.”

He breathes out.
“Okay, but I still want to make it up to you. Will you let me?”

“I’m thinking
about it.”

He nods again.

I clear my throat
and continue. “You and Elyse…Sully offering me a job, me working at Blackwood
Tower, did you—?”

“No. That was total
coincidence. I didn’t orchestrate that. You started working at Blackwood before
you came to me…to Q.”

The knot inside
me eases a touch. “And getting evicted from the motel? Did you have something
to do with that?”

His gaze drops
and his jaw flexes once. “Yes. The moment you said yes to Q, I saw you as mine,
in every way. I couldn’t have you living there. I needed to remove you from
that vile place.”

“What if I hadn’t
come to you?”

“I would have
found a way. I’m not going to apologize for wanting you safe, Elyse. I will
apologize for the way I did things. For not coming clean later, when I realized
I didn’t want you to end up as collateral damage in the shit storm I created.
What I did to you was wrong. So wrong. But…I was caught up in a decade long,
twisted game. Reason had long ceased to matter.”

I catch a glimpse
of the mental anguish still riding him, and I touch his hand, trace it to the
lines on his forearm. “Was this part of the game? Cutting yourself?”

“For a while,
yes. It got me the attention I needed. It got me into Adriana Nathanson’s
office.”

“God, Quinn.”

He grabs hold of
my hand, and stares deep into my eyes.

“Forgive me,
Elyse. I went into this with my eyes shut to everything else but getting my
brand of justice for my mother. Even when I realized I wanted you to see me,
maybe even save me, I still wasn’t prepared to stop.”

“But I did see
you. I knew who you were. What you were. I tried to convince myself it didn’t
matter. But it did.”

Bleakness flashes
through his eyes. “It still matters, doesn’t it?”

I hesitate. Then
go with the truth. “Yes. You need help, Quinn. To help you get over losing your
mother that way. But I want to be there for you while you get that help. Maybe
I need help myself. I’m not without fault.”

“No. God, you’re
perfect.”

“I’m not. You
know what I was…what I did in Getty Falls?” I enquire tentatively.

He nods. “I know
everything. And you’re still perfect to me. God, I love you, Elyse. I was too
twisted to recognize until it was far too late, until you saw nothing but the
monster. But I do, baby. I love you. Inside and out, no matter what you’ve
done.
No matter what
.”

My heart shakes,
threatens to fly, but I need to state more truths. “I hated you for being two
people, but so was I. You signed up for Lucky, but I wanted you to like Elyse,
maybe even love her. Having that opportunity taken away from me before it had a
chance to grow into something, hurt, and I lashed out at you.”

His head jerks
downward, and a lock of vibrant hair falls over his forehead. I brush it back
as he links his fingers through mine and stares in fascination at our fused
palms. “Sending me away when the FBI rescued you cut me to shreds. The
restraining order killed me.”

“I’m sorry. The
shock was just too much, you know? I think I filed it because although I wanted
to hate you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, or missing you. It was my way
of stopping myself from craving you.”