Undone Rebel (Undone Lovers, Book One) (14 page)

“No more. I can’t. I really can’t.”

Addie didn’t want to do this anymore. She felt stripped raw, naked to her soul. His grip on her hair loosened and Addie tipped her head forward to see SJ kneeling two feet away, taking pictures of Emory holding open her pussy lips. As she watched, SJ switched the focus up, to Addie’s breasts and her heavily abused nipples.

“Where is the map, spy?” Emory voice was soft, reminding her that if she was at her limit she had a way out.

“Paris.”

Chapter Seven

She ignored the knock on the front door. Addie closed her eyes and sank down to her chin in the bath, knees poking above the waterline. A tub full of minerals, Epsom salts, and some supposedly healing oils was doing wonders for her body. Now if she could just get her mind to shut down she’d be fine.

After a few minutes the knocking stopped. Not long after that her phone started to vibrate. She’d left it on the closed lid of her toilet and the vibration echoed in the bowl, the sound obnoxiously loud. Reaching over the edge of the tub, she dried her fingers on the bath mat, plucked her phone off the toilet, and stuck it between two towels on the shelf under the tiny window.

Her hair had fallen around her shoulders in wet clumps to float across the top of the water like a spidery fringe. Gathering the wet strands, Addie rolled them into a bun at the nape of her neck and settled back, her hair acting as a cushion.

With grim determination, Addie thought about anything but Lane and Emory and what she’d just been through with both men. Instead she mentally sketched outfits, made lists and imagined what she’d do with the money she made from this modeling gig. Damn, now she was back to thinking about Lane and Emory, particularly Lane, when she’d meant to contemplate how nice it would be to make a lump-sum payment on her student loans.

When the water was cold and her fingers were shriveled, Addie climbed out, wrapping herself in two towels and her hair in a third. Bundled up, she picked up her phone, which showed a total of six missed calls, all from Lane.

In her bedroom, Addie dropped her towels and pulled on a pair of cotton leopard-print shorts and a matching tank top. The set was old and faded, seams coming apart, and not for the first time. She was too tired and sore to set her hair in foam rollers or rag rolls, so she pulled off the towel and braided it.

Slipping her white silk pinup girl robe over her pjs, Addie padded into the kitchen. A nice cheesy
pupusa
with vinegary cabbage and hot sauce was, amazingly, not waiting in her nearly bare fridge. She stood for a moment, contemplating getting dressed and going out for a
pupusa
—her favorite comfort food—but that was too much effort. She settled for a yogurt.

Spoon in her mouth, Addie settled into her chair, fishing in her sewing basket for something to keep her hands and mind occupied. She pulled out her knitting needles and the long-neglected scarf that dangled off one of them. Draping it over the arm of the chair, she plucked the spoon from her mouth and scooped up more yogurt.

Thump.

Addie’s heart leapt into her throat. Again, something hit her front door.

Bare knitting needle in hand, she turned off the lights and crept toward the door. Where there should have been an unbroken line of light from the lamp in the corridor there was a dark shadow.

An ass-sized shadow.

Addie dropped to her knees, slid the knitting needle under the gap, and thrust.

“Fuck! Damn, that hurt, Addie.” Lane’s voice was muffled through the door, but she had no trouble discerning who was sitting in her hallway, thumping against her door.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

“I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you.”

Why did that make her heart flutter? Addie slipped from her knees to her butt and rubbed the heel of her hand first against her heart, then her temple.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?” he was whispering now, but his voice sounded closer, as if he were whispering against the crack in the door.

“Because…”
Why?
He’d come before and it had been fine, all light and fun.

That was before.

“I can’t,” she finally replied, not knowing what else to say.

“You can’t face me? Can’t understand what you’re feeling? Can’t face yourself in the mirror right now?”

Get out of my head.

“Lane, just go away.”

“I won’t.”

“This isn’t part of your job. You had your day with me.”

“This isn’t about the job anymore. I thought I’d made that clear.”

“Then what is this? You going to take me dancing?”

There was a double thump, the door shuddering against her shoulder as he moved. “Fuck, Addie—”

She knew what he was thinking.
I don’t want to date you, I just want to fuck you. Can’t we just keep this light? Open the door and let me in and we’ll talk about it, and by talk I mean fuck.

Addie gritted her teeth as anger boiled inside her. He was playing her, and what the hell had she expected? Considering the way they’d met, he’d never respect her, and respect was one of the things that meant most to her. She’d been a fool to listen to his talk of later.

“I can’t dance.”

“Huh?”

“I said I. Can’t. Dance. I’ll take you dancing but we’re both going to hate it.”

“You’ll take me dancing?”

He must have heard the tears that tightened the back of her throat, because his voice was soft when he answered. “Of course I will.”

Addie stood and opened the door.

Lane was sitting in the hall, hands braced on her doormat, long legs stretching almost to the opposite wall.

“You know that going dancing is a date?” she asked.

He grinned. “Are you asking me out?”

Addie started to slam the door, but he threw his upper body inside. The door rebounded off his shoulder. Lane scrambled to his feet.

Stepped inside.

Closed the door.

“Bad choice of words.” Lane cupped her waist, looming over her. It was the second time he’d invaded her cluttered little home, the second time he’d stripped away her power with nothing more than his presence.

“Don’t tease me,” she warned, pleaded.

“Why?”

“I’m not going to answer that.”

“Then I’ll just tell you that I’ve never felt quite this way when I was with a woman before, either a vanilla relationship or BDSM.”

Twin trickles of happiness and dread wound through Addie at that statement. If she was smart she’d simply accept this, accept whatever he was offering and never tell him…

“Why is it different with me?”

“I don’t know.” His hand on her waist flexed, squeezing her, pulling her closer until her hips brushed the front of his chinos, until she felt his erection there. “But something about you,” he frowned, searching her face as if he’d find the answer there. “Something about you blurs the lines. You submit, but you don’t.”

“You still seem in control to me.” Tension radiated off him, but it was tightly leashed, almost as if he’d been stitched into it.

He simply shook his head.

“I think I want to see you lose control.” Addie slid her palms up his chest, the soft fabric of his t-shirt rumpling under her fingers. “I want to know what you’re like without that armor on.”

“Addie. No.” He caught her wrist, pulled her hands away. “I’m a…big guy. My control is necessary.”

“And the friendly frat-boy routine, is that armor necessary too?” Addie twisted her wrists and his fingers fell away. She had no doubt that if he’d wanted to he could have held her. If he really wanted to stop her.

“That’s, that’s not…” He swallowed, looked away.

Like a wave drawing back out to the ocean, the tide of power was shifting to her. Had no woman ever seen that easygoing charm was as controlled and constructed as his Dom mannerisms?

“That’s not armor? It is. Don’t lie to me, Lane.” Addie’s hands settled on his waist, crumpling the fabric of his shirt until the pads of her fingers touched smooth, bare skin stretched over tight muscle.

His eyebrows were lowered and drawn together over his nose. His eyes seemed black under the shadow of his brow. His free hand settled on the other side of her waist, sliding down to knead her hip as he pressed their pelvises together.

Addie tucked her fingers into the waistband of his pants, thumb toying with the button.

“Tell me what you want,” she whispered, leaning in to breathe the words against his neck.

“I want you.”

“How?”

“Any way. Every way.”

Addie pushed the button through the hole, rubbing the skin she’d exposed before grasping the tab of his zipper. “And what if I told you to leave?” She leaned back just enough to watch him under her lashes.

Lane drew in a breath, his nostrils flared. His eyes were full of fire, the muscles along his jaw and down his neck working. “Don’t.” He wrapped his hand over hers and together they lowered his zipper. Addie pushed his pants down over his ass. He was naked underneath, his cock rigid and hot, so erect it nearly brushed his belly. “Please.”

She felt his eyes on her as she took a step back to examine him. After a long moment Lane hastily shucked his shoes, socks and pants, leaving him naked from the waist down. He was corded in muscles, wrapped in smooth cream skin that darkened to gold on his lower legs. The dark-blond hair around his cock was trimmed short, doing nothing to hide his heavy balls.

Addie touched his thigh, watched the pad of muscle flex as she stroked him with light touches that gradually turned into scratches. When her nails reached the seam of leg and torso, he moaned her name.

Addie caught his gaze with her own, waited until she was sure he was looking at her face before wrapping her hand firmly around the base of his cock.

A shudder racked Lane. He inhaled, closed his eyes.

Addie added her other hand, wrapping it above the first, her thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock.

Lane’s eyes popped open. “I can’t wait. I have to have you.”

Yes.

He pushed her robe open, growling when he saw what she wore underneath. Lane grabbed the neckline of the tank top and yanked. The fragile seams ripped, the fabric falling away to expose her breasts.

“Now I can touch you.” His gaze darted between her breasts and face.

“You touched me before.”

“Not like this.” One hand cupped her left breast, lifting it toward his mouth. Warm lips enveloped the peak, drawing on the tip. Nerve endings down Addie’s back, along her arms and between her legs sparked to life.

With a cry she tightened her hold on his cock, and in response Lane bit her nipple.

His other hand found her shorts, ripping them away. The fabric dug into her ass, between the lips of her sex, as he pulled it free.

Then Lane’s fingers were there, clumsily fondling her sex with none of the precision he’d shown before. His fingers were thick, his touch rough, frantic. Her robe, caught on her arms, fluttered and danced around her legs.

“I can’t wait. I can’t.”

She barely heard him, but in the next breath Lane swept her legs out from under her. For one horrible instant she was falling, all alone and falling, but then he was there, arms around her ass and shoulders, bearing her down to the floor.

Lane pushed her legs apart and knelt between them. He looked like a Viking god—especially when he pulled his shirt off, exposing a well-defined chest and belly.

“Look at me,” he demanded, coming down on top of her. “Hold me.” But now it was a plea.

“Fuck me,” she demanded, looking into his eyes. “Kiss me.”

Addie took a fistful of his hair and pulled his lips down to hers. He ravaged her—nipping her lips and neck, sucking her tongue and pushing his own deep into the well of her mouth.

His free hand grabbed behind her knee, drawing her leg up and to the side, forcing her sex open. He paused for a moment, grabbing a condom from his pants and fumbling it on. She gasped against his neck when she felt the tip of his cock testing the wet slit of her sex.

“I can’t wait.”

“I don’t want you to.”

The tip of his cock slid in, big enough to have her gasping, rethinking her bold words. He was so big, they should go slow…

Lane slid home with one hard thrust. Addie cried out in mingled pleasure and pain. He filled her, completed her, in ways she couldn’t explain.

“I need you.” His breath washed over her neck, stimulating the sensitive nerves there. Addie felt alive and aware, as if she’d been struck by lightning.

“I need you too.” Nothing had ever been more true.

Addie wrapped her legs over his back and Lane hooked his hands under her shoulders. He withdrew and thrust, the movement hard and powerful, jarring both of them, Addie’s back and shoulders sliding across the floor from the power of it.