Until I Break
Page 21
I reach up to stroke his smooth cheek with my fingertips. “Stop trying to push me away. I’m not leaving you. Can’t you see that I love you? It’s too late for me. The past is the past. You are my future.”
I take a step back and curl my fingers in the neck of my shirt, tugging sharply until the buttons down the front give way. I know that doing this will push me past the point of no return. I know that if I bare my throat to him, that if he bites me one more time, there’s not going back. For either of us. I’ll be joined with him forever. Even if he leaves me. But that’s a chance I’m willing to take.
I turn my chin to one side, exposing the throbbing vein in my neck.
“Take it, Mason. Take my blood. One more time. I want to feel your teeth inside me. And then I want to feel you inside me. Bite me. Then make love to me.”
As has become my habit since meeting him, even though Alec is not a vampire, I find myself drawing uncanny (and probably unhealthy) parallels between my life and Daire’s, between her dilemmas and mine.
There are no supernatural curses for me to contend with. There are no blood ties that I must worry about. But I feel like the more time I spend with Alec, the more permanently bound to him I become. Some small part of me is still aware that he could and most likely will be leaving me eventually, but that part is not nearly large enough to stop the free fall I’ve found myself in. Alec is practically perfect for me in every way.
Unfortunately, the one way that he’s not will probably be the one thing that takes him away from me. Permanently. Like Mason hungers for blood, Alec hungers for a sexual satisfaction that I can’t provide. I don’t know how strong the urge is, but I have a feeling it must be pretty intense. He’s had to fight it for years.
But he doesn’t always win.
I shake off the ever-niggling worry and head for the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. Hearing me puttering around, Jinx hops up on the barstool and arches his back for some attention.
“You hungry, too, boy?”
His purr is drowned out by the ring of my cell phone. I take it from the pocket of my shorts. My heart does a little extra tap when I see Alec’s name on the screen.
“Hi,” I answer cheerfully, unable to keep the smile from my voice. I feel like smiling constantly when he’s around. And often when he’s not.
“Hi,” comes his gruff reply. His voice is like velvet, smooth yet coarse at the same time. “I’ve got something to pitch to you. Feel free to say no if you’re the least bit uncomfortable with it.”
“Okay,” I say easily. There was a time when I’d have felt anxiety about a conversation that started this way. But not now. I know Alec would never hurt me. Not on purpose. And certainly not sexually. He’s proven that a zillion times over.
“I’ve got a thing tonight. I had forgotten all about it. I don’t really want to go, but it would really look bad if I didn’t. It’s a big schmooze being hosted by one of my bigger clients.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Oh, I can assure you, it will be anything but fun.”
I laugh. “Oh, I don’t know. You have a way of keeping things… interesting.”
His pause speaks volumes. “Here’s the thing: The woman that’s hosting it is a founding member of the club. I’m sure there will be a few other…patrons there, too.”
An ache begins to form behind my eyes. “So what kind of a…schmooze is this?” I assumed he meant some kind of social slash political thing, but he might be using some sort of sexual lingo I’m not familiar with.
“Oh, it’s nothing like that. It’s…no, it’s nothing like what you’re thinking. It’s just that sometimes they make inside jokes and comments and…references, things that I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“If that’s all you’re worried about then don’t. As long as no one tries to drag me off into a padded room, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“All right then. Pick you up at eight.”
“I’ll be ready. And Alec,” I say, stopping him before he can hang up.
“Hmmm?”
“Thank you for being so considerate.”
“No problem,” he says flatly. “See you tonight.”
I stare at the phone long after Alec is gone. His frustration is on the rise. He’s having a harder time hiding it. I don’t know how much longer he can go on like this.
As I sit thinking about him, that tiny niggling feeling that Alec will soon be leaving becomes more than just a niggle.
********
I fiddle with the strap of my wristlet. Alec has been quiet all night. Since we got in the car, he has seemed like he’s angry about something. I’ve asked nonchalantly if he’s all right and, each time, he’s assured me he’s fine, that everything is fine.
But I don’t believe it.
I’m standing quietly at his side as he explains his services to the CEO of a privately-funded substance abuse hospital. Listening to him, it makes perfect sense that he’s actually a psychiatrist, although these people don’t know it. They see him simply as the man that runs the company that offers the services. That’s another benefit to his unorthodox online therapy sessions—anonymity.
I have to give him credit. Alec has made two brilliant careers for himself while revealing to very few his face or his identity. No doubt the employees and social contacts that know him as one don’t know him as the other. Except for the rare case, like the doctor he saw at my father’s function, the one who knew his father.
“Alec Brand, glad you could make it.” I feel Alec’s fingers tense on my lower back at the smooth, feminine voice.
I turn to see a stunning woman standing behind us. I’d guess she’s somewhere near forty, or at least ten years older than my twenty-six and close to ten more than Alec’s thirty-one. Her long, straight hair is rich auburn and her bangs are cut severely, like Cleopatra’s. Her eyes are the palest of blue. They have a sleepy, sexy look that fits her voice to perfection. She beams an…interested smile in Alec’s direction.
“Carla,” Alec says as he bends to press his lips to her cheek. She leans in to him, stretching along his length like a cat. All that’s missing is the purr. “So good to see you.”
Carla looks behind Alec and nods at the man he was speaking with. He nods in return and then subtly turns his attention to someone else, leaving Alec to focus on her.
“I’ve missed seeing you,” she says with a wink. Alec did tell me once that, although he hadn’t “indulged” in quite a while, he did still like to visit the club and stroll through the rooms occasionally. Evidently it was enough to keep the monster at bay.
For a while anyway.
I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing now, if he’s really going without.
Alec doesn’t respond, just gives her a cool smile.
Carla looks to me and nods then returns her attention to Alec. “Is this the reason? You’ve found better entertainment at home, have you?”
“Careful, Carla. Someone might think you’re jealous,” he teases lightly.
“What if I am?” she asks. “I never thought anyone would keep you from coming to watch me.”
It’s that phrase that triggers a memory. From the night Alec took me to the club. The woman on the bed in the first room, the one who looked at us when we stopped in the doorway—that was Carla. Her smile is unmistakable.
Alec says nothing, but I feel his fingers flex against my back again and I can see the tick of the muscle in his jaw.
“It was good seeing you, Carla. Excuse us, please.”
With that, Alec applies just enough pressure to urge me to move. We walk around Carla and he guides me to the bar.
After ordering us a drink, Alec says nothing. But he doesn’t really have to. It’s obvious that he’s angry. On edge. And I’m beginning to think this might be why. I wonder if being around these people, whoever the others might be, makes his…appetite worse, makes his hunger less manageable.
When the bartender sets our drinks in front of us, Alec tips his glass back and drains it in one long gulp. I see his jaw twitch again.
“I’ll be right back,” he says tightly.
I watch him stalk away. I’m baffled by the turn this night has taken. I see Alec open a door to his left and disappear through it, leaving me at the bar with too many questions and too few answers.
Insecurity rises to the surface first. All the old feelings—feelings that I’m not enough, feelings that I’m not normal, that I’ll never be normal—battle to drag me down into a feeling of hopelessness and depression. But something stronger rises. It rises fast and high, to overwhelm and eclipse. It’s the desire to make Alec happy, to soothe his anger, to ease his frustration in any way that I can. He’s given up his pleasure to help me. At this point, I owe him.
Before I can think too much or talk myself out of it, I abandon my drink and follow Alec. I slip through the door that I saw him use. It leads to a flight of stairs. I mount them as quietly as I can and, at the top, find myself on the balcony that overlooks the ballroom.
I scan the long, narrow space for Alec. He’s standing at the half wall, looking down at the crowd below. I can see ire in every taut line of his body. For whatever reason, be it frustration or something deeper, he’s fighting for control.
I walk to where he is. Without a word, I lay my hand on his shoulder. He turns to look at me. There are sparks flying from his eyes.
“This isn’t a good time, Samantha.” His voice is a low growl.
“I know,” I say softly. I look down at the people below. None of them seem to be paying attention to us so far above, making my rash, impulsive decision an easy one.
I turn my back to the half wall and I let my wristlet fall to the floor. Alec’s eyes flit to mine and stick. He watches me intently, angrily. His teeth are gritted so hard, I can almost hear them grinding.
Slowly, I shake my hair, left long and wavy, back over my shoulders. I slide one thin strap of my dress down. It’s a nude color so I don’t think anyone below could tell what I’m doing even if they bothered to look. But I can’t be sure. And that’s part of why my stomach is in a knot of nervous excitement.
I’m turned on by the prospect of what I’m initiating. I feel the warmth already gathering between my legs, making my panties feel dewy.
I pull on my bodice just enough to free one breast. Never taking my eyes off Alec where he stands at my side, I reach over with one hand and trace his bottom lip with my finger. It relaxes enough that I can slip inside. I drag the tip along the straight edge of his teeth until I feel the brush of his tongue, hot and slick.
I remove my wet finger and trace a damp circle around my nipple. It puckers in response. When Alec’s eyes leave mine and drop to my hand, I give my nipple a little pinch, feeling the sensation all the way down to my core. I know he likes that.
Alec’s eyes return to mine and he straightens. I don’t know what his expression means—something fierce, something not quite in control—but I’m not afraid of it. I’m not afraid of him, even in this state. I just want him to share it with me. Give me a chance to help him like he’s trying to help me.
“Do you know what I want?” I ask, starting with the word play that he’s so, so good at. I’m not surprised when he doesn’t answer. I massage my breast with one hand and let my other trail down my stomach to the short hem of my cocktail dress. I bunch it between my fingers, hiking it up until I can get underneath it.
“What’s that?” he asks finally, his voice husky.
“I want to feel your tongue. Right here,” I say as I run my palm over my damp panties. “With your friends right down there.”
Alec moves in front of me to grab my wrist and still my hand. “No, you don’t.”
“But I do.”
His fingers tighten almost painfully as he squeezes my wrist. “I wouldn’t be stopping tonight. And I’d have to keep you still. And it might scare you,” he grinds out threateningly.
Warmth sweeps through me, making me feel breathless and lightheaded and the tiniest bit anxious. I swallow and it feels like there’s cotton in my throat. “I don’t care.”
Alec’s lips thin. “I told you now’s not a good time, Samantha. I’m warning you.”
He’s giving me one last chance to abandon this. Instead, I abandon my one last chance.
“I know,” I say, turning my wrist until my fingers are on top of his. I urge his hand down between my legs. “I know,” I repeat.
Alec makes a rumbling sound right before he takes my lips in a searing kiss. It’s rough and it’s brutal and it’s raw. And it’s everything I want from him because it’s honest. And he’s sharing it with me. With me.
I reach up with one hand and thread my fingers into his hair, grinding our lips together. His tongue tangles with mine and then I feel his teeth sink into my bottom lip before he pulls away. I taste blood, but I don’t care. I see Alec’s eyes fall to my mouth. I know he sees what he did to me. He’s too angry to care at the moment. And I’m too desperate.
I don’t want him to stop. He needs this. And I want to give it to him.
I drag my tongue along my lip, licking up the blood. Alec’s eyes flit up to mine and I see the last little bit of his grip loosen.
He drops to his knees and roughly pushes my legs apart. His eyes are looking up into mine, daring me to ask him to stop. But I won’t. And I won’t look away.
I take a step back and curl my fingers in the neck of my shirt, tugging sharply until the buttons down the front give way. I know that doing this will push me past the point of no return. I know that if I bare my throat to him, that if he bites me one more time, there’s not going back. For either of us. I’ll be joined with him forever. Even if he leaves me. But that’s a chance I’m willing to take.
I turn my chin to one side, exposing the throbbing vein in my neck.
“Take it, Mason. Take my blood. One more time. I want to feel your teeth inside me. And then I want to feel you inside me. Bite me. Then make love to me.”
As has become my habit since meeting him, even though Alec is not a vampire, I find myself drawing uncanny (and probably unhealthy) parallels between my life and Daire’s, between her dilemmas and mine.
There are no supernatural curses for me to contend with. There are no blood ties that I must worry about. But I feel like the more time I spend with Alec, the more permanently bound to him I become. Some small part of me is still aware that he could and most likely will be leaving me eventually, but that part is not nearly large enough to stop the free fall I’ve found myself in. Alec is practically perfect for me in every way.
Unfortunately, the one way that he’s not will probably be the one thing that takes him away from me. Permanently. Like Mason hungers for blood, Alec hungers for a sexual satisfaction that I can’t provide. I don’t know how strong the urge is, but I have a feeling it must be pretty intense. He’s had to fight it for years.
But he doesn’t always win.
I shake off the ever-niggling worry and head for the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. Hearing me puttering around, Jinx hops up on the barstool and arches his back for some attention.
“You hungry, too, boy?”
His purr is drowned out by the ring of my cell phone. I take it from the pocket of my shorts. My heart does a little extra tap when I see Alec’s name on the screen.
“Hi,” I answer cheerfully, unable to keep the smile from my voice. I feel like smiling constantly when he’s around. And often when he’s not.
“Hi,” comes his gruff reply. His voice is like velvet, smooth yet coarse at the same time. “I’ve got something to pitch to you. Feel free to say no if you’re the least bit uncomfortable with it.”
“Okay,” I say easily. There was a time when I’d have felt anxiety about a conversation that started this way. But not now. I know Alec would never hurt me. Not on purpose. And certainly not sexually. He’s proven that a zillion times over.
“I’ve got a thing tonight. I had forgotten all about it. I don’t really want to go, but it would really look bad if I didn’t. It’s a big schmooze being hosted by one of my bigger clients.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Oh, I can assure you, it will be anything but fun.”
I laugh. “Oh, I don’t know. You have a way of keeping things… interesting.”
His pause speaks volumes. “Here’s the thing: The woman that’s hosting it is a founding member of the club. I’m sure there will be a few other…patrons there, too.”
An ache begins to form behind my eyes. “So what kind of a…schmooze is this?” I assumed he meant some kind of social slash political thing, but he might be using some sort of sexual lingo I’m not familiar with.
“Oh, it’s nothing like that. It’s…no, it’s nothing like what you’re thinking. It’s just that sometimes they make inside jokes and comments and…references, things that I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“If that’s all you’re worried about then don’t. As long as no one tries to drag me off into a padded room, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“All right then. Pick you up at eight.”
“I’ll be ready. And Alec,” I say, stopping him before he can hang up.
“Hmmm?”
“Thank you for being so considerate.”
“No problem,” he says flatly. “See you tonight.”
I stare at the phone long after Alec is gone. His frustration is on the rise. He’s having a harder time hiding it. I don’t know how much longer he can go on like this.
As I sit thinking about him, that tiny niggling feeling that Alec will soon be leaving becomes more than just a niggle.
********
I fiddle with the strap of my wristlet. Alec has been quiet all night. Since we got in the car, he has seemed like he’s angry about something. I’ve asked nonchalantly if he’s all right and, each time, he’s assured me he’s fine, that everything is fine.
But I don’t believe it.
I’m standing quietly at his side as he explains his services to the CEO of a privately-funded substance abuse hospital. Listening to him, it makes perfect sense that he’s actually a psychiatrist, although these people don’t know it. They see him simply as the man that runs the company that offers the services. That’s another benefit to his unorthodox online therapy sessions—anonymity.
I have to give him credit. Alec has made two brilliant careers for himself while revealing to very few his face or his identity. No doubt the employees and social contacts that know him as one don’t know him as the other. Except for the rare case, like the doctor he saw at my father’s function, the one who knew his father.
“Alec Brand, glad you could make it.” I feel Alec’s fingers tense on my lower back at the smooth, feminine voice.
I turn to see a stunning woman standing behind us. I’d guess she’s somewhere near forty, or at least ten years older than my twenty-six and close to ten more than Alec’s thirty-one. Her long, straight hair is rich auburn and her bangs are cut severely, like Cleopatra’s. Her eyes are the palest of blue. They have a sleepy, sexy look that fits her voice to perfection. She beams an…interested smile in Alec’s direction.
“Carla,” Alec says as he bends to press his lips to her cheek. She leans in to him, stretching along his length like a cat. All that’s missing is the purr. “So good to see you.”
Carla looks behind Alec and nods at the man he was speaking with. He nods in return and then subtly turns his attention to someone else, leaving Alec to focus on her.
“I’ve missed seeing you,” she says with a wink. Alec did tell me once that, although he hadn’t “indulged” in quite a while, he did still like to visit the club and stroll through the rooms occasionally. Evidently it was enough to keep the monster at bay.
For a while anyway.
I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing now, if he’s really going without.
Alec doesn’t respond, just gives her a cool smile.
Carla looks to me and nods then returns her attention to Alec. “Is this the reason? You’ve found better entertainment at home, have you?”
“Careful, Carla. Someone might think you’re jealous,” he teases lightly.
“What if I am?” she asks. “I never thought anyone would keep you from coming to watch me.”
It’s that phrase that triggers a memory. From the night Alec took me to the club. The woman on the bed in the first room, the one who looked at us when we stopped in the doorway—that was Carla. Her smile is unmistakable.
Alec says nothing, but I feel his fingers flex against my back again and I can see the tick of the muscle in his jaw.
“It was good seeing you, Carla. Excuse us, please.”
With that, Alec applies just enough pressure to urge me to move. We walk around Carla and he guides me to the bar.
After ordering us a drink, Alec says nothing. But he doesn’t really have to. It’s obvious that he’s angry. On edge. And I’m beginning to think this might be why. I wonder if being around these people, whoever the others might be, makes his…appetite worse, makes his hunger less manageable.
When the bartender sets our drinks in front of us, Alec tips his glass back and drains it in one long gulp. I see his jaw twitch again.
“I’ll be right back,” he says tightly.
I watch him stalk away. I’m baffled by the turn this night has taken. I see Alec open a door to his left and disappear through it, leaving me at the bar with too many questions and too few answers.
Insecurity rises to the surface first. All the old feelings—feelings that I’m not enough, feelings that I’m not normal, that I’ll never be normal—battle to drag me down into a feeling of hopelessness and depression. But something stronger rises. It rises fast and high, to overwhelm and eclipse. It’s the desire to make Alec happy, to soothe his anger, to ease his frustration in any way that I can. He’s given up his pleasure to help me. At this point, I owe him.
Before I can think too much or talk myself out of it, I abandon my drink and follow Alec. I slip through the door that I saw him use. It leads to a flight of stairs. I mount them as quietly as I can and, at the top, find myself on the balcony that overlooks the ballroom.
I scan the long, narrow space for Alec. He’s standing at the half wall, looking down at the crowd below. I can see ire in every taut line of his body. For whatever reason, be it frustration or something deeper, he’s fighting for control.
I walk to where he is. Without a word, I lay my hand on his shoulder. He turns to look at me. There are sparks flying from his eyes.
“This isn’t a good time, Samantha.” His voice is a low growl.
“I know,” I say softly. I look down at the people below. None of them seem to be paying attention to us so far above, making my rash, impulsive decision an easy one.
I turn my back to the half wall and I let my wristlet fall to the floor. Alec’s eyes flit to mine and stick. He watches me intently, angrily. His teeth are gritted so hard, I can almost hear them grinding.
Slowly, I shake my hair, left long and wavy, back over my shoulders. I slide one thin strap of my dress down. It’s a nude color so I don’t think anyone below could tell what I’m doing even if they bothered to look. But I can’t be sure. And that’s part of why my stomach is in a knot of nervous excitement.
I’m turned on by the prospect of what I’m initiating. I feel the warmth already gathering between my legs, making my panties feel dewy.
I pull on my bodice just enough to free one breast. Never taking my eyes off Alec where he stands at my side, I reach over with one hand and trace his bottom lip with my finger. It relaxes enough that I can slip inside. I drag the tip along the straight edge of his teeth until I feel the brush of his tongue, hot and slick.
I remove my wet finger and trace a damp circle around my nipple. It puckers in response. When Alec’s eyes leave mine and drop to my hand, I give my nipple a little pinch, feeling the sensation all the way down to my core. I know he likes that.
Alec’s eyes return to mine and he straightens. I don’t know what his expression means—something fierce, something not quite in control—but I’m not afraid of it. I’m not afraid of him, even in this state. I just want him to share it with me. Give me a chance to help him like he’s trying to help me.
“Do you know what I want?” I ask, starting with the word play that he’s so, so good at. I’m not surprised when he doesn’t answer. I massage my breast with one hand and let my other trail down my stomach to the short hem of my cocktail dress. I bunch it between my fingers, hiking it up until I can get underneath it.
“What’s that?” he asks finally, his voice husky.
“I want to feel your tongue. Right here,” I say as I run my palm over my damp panties. “With your friends right down there.”
Alec moves in front of me to grab my wrist and still my hand. “No, you don’t.”
“But I do.”
His fingers tighten almost painfully as he squeezes my wrist. “I wouldn’t be stopping tonight. And I’d have to keep you still. And it might scare you,” he grinds out threateningly.
Warmth sweeps through me, making me feel breathless and lightheaded and the tiniest bit anxious. I swallow and it feels like there’s cotton in my throat. “I don’t care.”
Alec’s lips thin. “I told you now’s not a good time, Samantha. I’m warning you.”
He’s giving me one last chance to abandon this. Instead, I abandon my one last chance.
“I know,” I say, turning my wrist until my fingers are on top of his. I urge his hand down between my legs. “I know,” I repeat.
Alec makes a rumbling sound right before he takes my lips in a searing kiss. It’s rough and it’s brutal and it’s raw. And it’s everything I want from him because it’s honest. And he’s sharing it with me. With me.
I reach up with one hand and thread my fingers into his hair, grinding our lips together. His tongue tangles with mine and then I feel his teeth sink into my bottom lip before he pulls away. I taste blood, but I don’t care. I see Alec’s eyes fall to my mouth. I know he sees what he did to me. He’s too angry to care at the moment. And I’m too desperate.
I don’t want him to stop. He needs this. And I want to give it to him.
I drag my tongue along my lip, licking up the blood. Alec’s eyes flit up to mine and I see the last little bit of his grip loosen.
He drops to his knees and roughly pushes my legs apart. His eyes are looking up into mine, daring me to ask him to stop. But I won’t. And I won’t look away.
