Rapturous (13 page)

After a long silence, he says, “I want to say it, too, and I’m sorry I can’t. I don’t know how to say it, because I never have before. I’m so sorry, baby.”

While I hold my breath and blink back tears, he gets up from the bed. I hear him rustling around the room. I hear legs pushing into denim and the scrape of his zipper. His T-shirt is half under me,
and he extricates it carefully. A few minutes later, I hear the front door click shut.
 

I want to beg him not to go. I want to beg him to give me—and us—a chance, but that battle can’t be fought and won tonight. That battle is going to take some time and more patience than I’ve ever needed before.
 

But he’s confirmed the one thing I need to know to make the struggle worthwhile—he loves me, too.
 

“I love you, Hayden.”
It’s all I hear as I drive through the dark night after leaving her. I’m too wound up to sleep or work, so I go to the one place where everything always makes sense to me—Club Quantum. Located in the basement of our Los Angeles office building, access is granted with a palm scanner
that admits me to a special elevator that leads only to the basement.

The doors open into the club, which is busy for a weeknight. I wave to Kristian and Jasper, who are entertaining guests in the main room. At the bar, I pull up a stool and shake hands with Sebastian Lowe, who manages the LA club for us. He’s tall, dark, muscular, scarred and ruthlessly intimidating. He also has a heart of gold
and a loyalty streak a mile wide. Sebastian is one of my oldest and closest friends, and he’s on that short list of people I love.

“Pappy?” he asks.

“You know it.”

He puts a glass on the bar in front of me and pours. “Rough night?”

If you count having to tell the love of your life that you can’t be with her a rough night, then yeah, it’s been pretty bad. But I don’t tell him that. I can’t
tell anyone that. “Not so much.” In some ways, it had been a fantastic, magical night. I’ll live off the memories of what we did for the rest of my life.

“Something’s up,” Sebastian says with the wisdom of someone who’s known me a long time. His mother worked as my father’s housekeeper for years. Sebastian and I grew up together, albeit on different sides of the Beverly Hills tracks. I credit
him—and his mother—with bringing some normalcy to the chaos that was my life. They credit me with saving him from the lure of gangs by giving him a job at Quantum.

His mom has no idea what he really does for us, and she never will. Sebastian and Graciela Lowe are family to me, and as my brother from another mother, Sebastian knows when something’s not right.

“Is it your mom?” he asks, painfully
aware of the ongoing struggle of my mother’s addiction to anything and everything addicting—booze, drugs, sex. You name it, she’s hooked on it.

“All quiet on that front for the moment.” I live on the razor’s edge with her, constantly teetering between disasters. We’ve had three months of relative peace and quiet, mostly because she was in rehab for most of that time.
 

“You got eyes on her?”

“Yep.” We both know having eyes on her hasn’t prevented past disasters, and it probably won’t prevent future ones either. But knowing someone is watching out for her allows me to sleep a couple of hours every night. The time I spent with Addie is the first peace I’ve gotten from the hell of that situation in ages. While I was lost in her, I wasn’t thinking about my mother or worrying about when the
next disaster will strike.
 

I think that’s why I gave in so easily the other night. It’s why I gave in again tonight after going there to smooth things over with her. I didn’t go there to do what we ended up doing, which is further proof that I need to keep my distance or lose my resolve. Now that I know what it’s like to touch her and kiss her and fuck her, I can’t go near her again. My legendary
control is nonexistent where she’s concerned. She’s my kryptonite.
 

“Is this seat taken?”

I glance over to see Cresley Dane, my close friend and frequent scene partner. “It is now.” I lean in to accept her kiss to my cheek. I’ve touched every inch of her delectable body, but I don’t feel anything more than friendly affection when I look at her world-famous face. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

She accepts a glass of the Belvedere we keep on ice for her, gifting Sebastian with the smile that’s made her millions. He’s not unaffected, but only I can tell that. The icy vodka is in sharp contrast to the warmth of her smile, the sweetness of her personality. Nothing about her screams fame or fortune or ego. I enjoy her tremendously, and I’ve loved the time we spent together in the dungeon.
She’s a complex woman who works at the top of her field by day, but willingly surrenders control in her personal life.
 

Under normal circumstances, I’d invite her to the dungeon to work out the frustration I feel about the situation with Addie. But I can’t go from the bed of the woman I love to the arms of another woman and find the peace that eludes me. That’s not going to fix what’s wrong with
me.

“You up for playing tonight?” she asks.
 

“Nah, I’m cooked. One drink and out for me.”

Her lip rolls into an adorable pout. “What about my training?”
 

An odd pang that feels an awful lot like guilt takes root in my gut. The thought of touching Cresley—or any woman—after what I’ve shared with Addie makes me nauseated. I take a drink from my glass, and for once Pappy doesn’t soothe me. “We
might have to put that on hold for a little while.” Just until I get my head together. I keep that part to myself.

She eyes me shrewdly. “How come?”

“I’ve got some stuff going on that’s going to require a lot of time and focus. Can’t afford any distractions.” I’m making this up as I go, but it sounds convincing. To me, anyway.

“I thought that was the whole point, to reduce stress by cutting
loose together.”

“I… I need some time, Cres.”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know.” I feel like shit for doing this to her when we’re already well into the early stages of her submissive training. With her crazy life as an in-demand model and the single mom to a son, she doesn’t take a lot of time for herself. This is important to her, and I hate that I’m disappointing her. But I can’t imagine touching
her now. As I stare into the eyes of one of the world’s most beautiful women, my cock couldn’t be less interested.

Fucking hell, is that what I’m doomed to now that I’ve had Addie? I can’t get hard for anyone else? Suddenly, I’m angry with Addie for doing this to me. For wrapping her sweet, sexy self around my soul and working her way so deep inside me I may never get her out. And fuck, I don’t
want her out. I want more of her. I want her so badly, I burn with desire for her.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, Hayden, but I hope you’ll call me when you’re ready to pick up where we left off.”

I don’t make promises I can’t keep, so I stick to safer ground. “Say hey to Ty for me, okay?”

She smiles at the mention of her son, but I can see she gets that I’m ending our relationship—or
whatever it was. “Yeah, you got it.” She leans in to kiss my cheek. “Take care.”

“You, too.” I’m incredibly relieved when she gets up and walks away. Most Doms, myself included, don’t like to share their subs with other Doms. But I hope that Cresley cuts her losses with me and finds someone else to play with. She’s a smart, savvy woman, so I’m not worried about her safety. Right now, I’m more
concerned about my own.
 

“Did you really pass up a chance to play with Cresley Dane?” Sebastian asks when he makes his way to my end of the bar.

“So what if I did?”

“So you’re fucking crazy, that’s what. What’s up with you? You’re like a pent-up tiger looking for a place to rage.”

The thing about going way back with people is that they know you too well. At times like this, when I actually
have something to hide, I wish I could be less obvious to my friends. “I’m fine. Under a lot of stress at work to name a film that defies naming, among other things.”
 

“It’ll come to you. Always does.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m going to head out.” I clasp Sebastian’s outstretched hand in a sideways bro shake. “Take it easy.”

“You, too.”

I feel his gaze on me as I wave to my partners
and head for the elevator without stopping to chat with them. That, too, is unusual, but I’m all talked out tonight. I need to think, and I can’t do that here with the music and the conversation and the temptation that surrounds me. I direct the Range Rover to my house in Malibu, in need of some time at the beach to clear my mind.

On the drive, I remind myself why it has to be this way with Addie.
You see, I’m not all that different from my mother. I too have an addictive personality. I realized that when I was very young and tempted by all the same things that rule my mother. The only difference between her and me is that I’ve learned to manage my demons, whereas she never has. I learned what not to do by watching her self-destruct a little at a time until there’s almost nothing left
of her. As much as I love her—and I do in spite of everything she's put me through—I refuse to follow her path.
 

Control is the fine line that separates me from her. I rarely have more than a couple of drinks and haven’t ever touched any kind of drugs out of fear that one taste would be all it took to ruin me. I’m so afraid of what might happen that I’ve never even smoked pot, which makes me
a rarity in the indulgent world in which I live and work.

My mother can’t control her demons. I'm not deluded enough to expect this latest honeymoon period after rehab is actually going to stick. The most I ever hope for anymore is that rehab will buy us some time.
 

I've lived in this state of petrified anticipation my entire life. Naturally, I try to control the situation by hiring people to
watch her. Not that they can do a damned thing to curb her destructive tendencies, which is why peace of mind is a rare and fleeting thing in my life.

Control is my cornerstone, but I’ve lost control where Addie is concerned, and I can't let that happen. I’ve seen what happens when control is lost. I’ve lived the aftermath of disaster my entire life, and I refuse to be weak like my parents. I’m
better than them, or at least I’ve always thought so. Recent events have me wondering if I’m not more their son than I ever wanted to be.

I direct so I can control every aspect of the films I create. I'm a dominant so I can control my own pleasure and that of my partner. I'm always in control of myself and my emotions. That’s how I keep from becoming lost to addiction like my mother or a gluttonous
failure like my father. Control keeps the demons at bay.
 

So you're probably thinking—he's a rich entitled prick who could have anyone or anything he wants. Why can't he just
have
Addie if she’s what he wants? Those are good questions, and you’re right about me being rich, entitled
and
a prick. I’d never deny I’m all that and many other unsavory things, too.
 

The answer to
why
I can’t have her
is simple. I can't
control
her. I can't control
myself
around her. I can't control the way she makes me feel—wild and
out
of control. I'm never out of control. And that’s why I have to stay away. She scares the living hell out of me. I can't afford to lose control, so I can't afford her.

I say it’s simple, though it’s anything but. Staying away from her is going to be like telling my mother she
shouldn’t shoot smack and expecting her not to do it because it’s not good for her.

Staying away from Addie will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but the alternative isn’t an option for me as much as I might intensely wish otherwise. I want her in a way that I’ve never wanted anyone else, but I refuse to make an exception to the rules that have governed my life. Those rules are the difference
between a life of success and a life of disarray.
 

After growing up the way I did, I’m afraid of very few things. I’m afraid of how and when I’ll lose my mother. But I’m even more afraid of losing control of myself, of veering off the current path, of losing the life and career I’ve worked so hard to have. Too many people depend on me to let that happen. Sometimes, even rich, entitled pricks
don’t get everything they want.