Hurting To Feel (Carpool Dolls) (18 page)

"You
know what I mean. She takes homeless women off the street and gives them an
honest fucking job." He stood and paced. "Practically a fucking
saint."

"Language,
Nathan." Professor Frank sighed. "Why don't you give her a chance to
accept you, instead of writing her off as someone who'll condemn you for who
you are…because that's what you're thinking, right? She won't accept that you
need to cause others pain."

"She
shouldn't have to accept it." He looked at the ceiling. "I've pushed
her to consent to me, and she believes that's as far as I'll go. She has no
idea I've held back every single time I've been with her. She worries about how
much she accepts from me at this level and how much more I'll push her. She
also thinks something is wrong with her because other women would've run away
or called the police after what we've done."

"And?"
Professor sat forward.

"She's
a submissive." Nathan's chest warmed. "She has no clue, and she's
giving. You know me…I need more. How long can I hold out without ruining her?"

"So,
you teach her. Show her what it's all about, and go slowly," Professor
said.

He
grimaced and stayed silent. They both knew he wasn't the right person to teach
her. Too used to seeking out others to take what he could give them, he had no
experience with someone that couldn't recognize her own needs. There was no one
that he'd trust to help Addy come to terms with what fulfills her.

"What
if I'm wrong?" He shoved his hands in his front pockets. "Hell, I'm
thirty five years old, and I've stayed away from women like Addy my whole life.
She's—"

"Addy?"
Professor asked.

He
nodded. "Addison Flint—His shoulders relaxed—she's successful and comes
with her own bank account. She doesn't blink knowing who I am. But, she's innocent
to someone like me."

Professor
cleared his throat and stood. "I have a night class I'm going to have to
leave for, but I want you to take things slow. If she means something to you,
you'll have to do whatever you can to hold yourself back. Give her time."

"Yeah."
He shook the professor's hand.

Professor
nodded. "Patience, son."

He
cocked his brow. "That's one thing I've never owned."

"For
once, try. Don't disappoint yourself." Professor walked him to the door.

He
hesitated to leave. "Have you ever gone too far and broken a woman?"

Professor
Frank looked him straight in the eye. "Yes."

"How
was it?" he asked.

Professor's
gaze softened. "It was the most beautiful gift I'd ever received," he
said, softly.

"Right,"
he muttered, inhaled deeply.

Professor
clamped his hand on Nathan's shoulder. "Don't stay away so long next time.
I've missed you. I want to hear more about Addison, and you. Can you come back
and visit soon?"

He
nodded and squeezed his friend's arm. He'd be back. He wasn't through needing a
little guidance, and with Addison in his life, he'd need all the help he could
get. Professor Frank allowed him to let his guard down, and urged him to show
his vulnerable side. A side of him that frightened the hell out of him. At
least here, with his friend, he felt safe if he wanted to open up.

Without
another look or a goodbye, he walked away. The visit left him unsure if he
headed in the right direction with Addison. He'd hoped to clear his head, gain
some wisdom, and instead he fell back on what was familiar.

Because
his needs always came first and because he wanted Addison, he knew he'd never
settle for less than having all of her.

Chapter
Twenty

After
hiring Joan and coming home to have fantastic sex with Nathan, Addison lay curled
in front of him on the bed. Nathan's arm lay over her, his hand cupped her
breast. Occasionally, he rubbed his thumb across her nipple, and she smiled for
no other reason than he made her content.

"Thank
you," she whispered.

He
kissed the back of her head. "For?"

"Bringing
Joan to Carpool Dolls. I don't know why she finally took me up on my offer, but
I'm glad she did. I'm also thankful you checked up on her and Lilly. Joan
changes her mind easily and if you weren't there, I don't think she would've
made the walk to come to the office." She snuggled her back tighter
against him.

"Having
Joan work for you had nothing to do with me. She respects you. You're honest
with her and she must've realized she could trust you," he said.

"Hm.
I think it has more to do with Lilly. Joan's the kind of mother who loves her
daughter and would do anything for her."

Many
times Joan's obvious love for Lilly surprised her. How a woman who had nothing,
not even a place to call her own, could still find empathy and compassion to
nurture her daughter had Addison hating her own mother.

Going
back over all her memories, Addison couldn't remember one time her mother hugged
her. She wasn't abused physically, but her mother never laid a hand on her head
to smooth her hair or rubbed her back when she found it hard to sleep after
having a nightmare. No, her mom hurt her in other ways.

Everything
Addison did, she somehow shamed her mother in a way she could never figure out.
She failed at the simplest things. Cleaning her room, styling her hair, and
even walking brought her insults and disappointments.

She
also grew up knowing she was the cause of her father denying paternity. That
gave her mother enough ammunition to make her life hell and tell her every day
that she'd amount to nothing. Deserved nothing. Should expect nothing.

Nathan
rolled her over until they were front to front, face to face, their legs
entwined. "You've told me it was just your mom and you growing up. How did
she die?"

"Brain
aneurism. A few years ago. I was twenty four and had just opened Carpool Dolls."
She rubbed her fingers against the whiskers on his jaw. "The doctor at the
hospital says it can happen like that. One minute she was standing at the table
in a meeting and within seconds, she died."

"That
must've been hard for you," he whispered.

She
shrugged. "It was harder to deal with being relieved she was gone."

He
pulled back and looked at her. "You weren't close?"

She
laughed bitterly. "No. We coexisted. She hated me and I tried to stay out
of her way. Well, until I became a teenager, and I took delight into doing
everything possible to embarrass her more."

His
mouth tightened. She dropped her gaze. "I'm not proud of what I did."

"Give
me a few examples of things that qualified you as an embarrassment." His
voice, hard and quiet, had her second-guessing her decision to tell him the
truth.

"I
refused to get what she called a real job. I babysat and worked at Taco Bell to
put myself through college, because she refused to help. Of course, that meant
I bought my clothes at second-hand consignment stores, which insulted her and
supposedly reflected bad on her as a mother. But, the last thing that pushed
her over the edge was when I volunteered at Food Depot. She believed my time
was worth more than helping collect food donations for those with low income
without receiving any payment in return."

"Are
you fucking kidding me?" he said.

"No."
She dared a glance at him. "What?"

"Bitch."
He rolled and came off the bed. "Seriously fucked up. I'd kill her for
what she put you through if she were alive. From what I can see, she should've
taken lessons on humanity from you…or hell, Professor Frank."

"The
man who helped you get off the street?" She sat and pulled the sheet
around her.

"Yeah."
He shook his head. "How did you—nevermind, the documentary," he
mumbled.

"They
never mention your father…do you still have a relationship with him?" she
asked.

He
stopped pacing. "I don't know who my father is. I doubt if my mother did
either. She was a prostitute."

Her
chest squeezed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. You haven't shared very much of
your past with me."

"There's
nothing to share. You've seen the documentary. Professor Frank…he was my
friend. He saved my life." He rubbed the back of his neck and muttered,
"Pisses me off."

"What?"
She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Me?"

"No.
Your mother. I don't understand how a woman can have someone so precious, a
gift from her own damn body, and shun her." He gazed at her. "She
didn't deserve you."

Her
heart beat in her chest. No one had ever told her she was worth more than the
great Carly Flint. None of her business partners, her teachers, or her friends.
She held the few people close to her with outstretched arms, because if they
knew more about her, she feared they'd reject her too.

"Can
I tell you something without you going all scary Nathan on me?" she asked.

"Won't
promise you that, doll. I'm wanting to punch something—he raised his brow when
she stiffened—I said something, not you."

She
patted the bed. "Come here, so I can hold your hands then."

His
weight put an indention in the mattress. She scooted closer, dropped the sheet,
not caring that she was naked underneath. She held her hands out, palms up, and
clasped Nathan's when he offered them.

"I
know I haven't made you happy the last few days, but I've had a lot of thinking
to do." She inhaled and blew out her breath. "This is hard for
me."

"Take
your time," he mumbled.

She
shook her head. "First, I need to tell you that I lied. Back when I ran
away from you after your meeting in the Stewart building, I wasn't sick. Not
with a virus."

"What
are you saying? I held you in the bathroom. I saw—"

"I
know." She squeezed his hands. "I saw someone that I never wanted to
see while we were there, and I freaked out. Big time."

"Who?"
he asked.

She
shook her head. "It doesn't matter. He's not important."

"He?"
He stood, and she held on to his hands until he ripped them out of her grasp.
"Who was he?"

"Nathan.
Let it go. I don't—"

"The
fuck I will." He grabbed his shirt off the chair and shoved his arms in
the sleeves. "What is this guy to you? An old lover?"

"God,
no." She jumped off the bed. "Stop for a minute."

He
tucked the end of his shirt in his pants. "I told you. If someone hurts
you, he's going to deal with me."

"Dammit.
Will you stop and listen to me." She slipped her nightgown over her head.
"This has nothing to do with you."

"You
have everything to do with me, and if some guy makes you puke your guts out and
makes you keep your problems buried inside of you and away from me, then yeah,
it has everything to do with me." He strode to the dresser, removed a pair
of socks. "You can either tell me or I'll beat the truth out of you."

"God!
Will you listen to me?" She grabbed his socks and ripped them out of his
hands. "You can't say a word to anyone, especially not him."

"Don’t."
His jaw ticked and he stood over her. "I think you've forgotten who
controls our relationship."

The
low timber of his voice stopped her from yelling at him. Aware she'd pushed him
too far, and he wasn't handling the truth, she retreated. He continued watching
her. Under his intense study, she turned away and walked to the window. Nathan
was going to make everything worse.

In
his anger, he'd find out the truth. Knowing him, he'd confront everyone he
remembered from that night, and since there were only a handful of people in
the building, it wouldn't be hard to put the pieces together. In fact, she was
surprised he hadn't realized she was fine in the elevator and the only person
they ran into afterward was her father.

She
sensed Nathan behind her a second before he had her hair fisted in his hand and
her head snapped back. He'd startled her, but she wasn't scared or hurting. She
understood his anger.

His
emotions came out in a way most people expressed themselves with words. Instead
of talking with her, he bulldozed his way through anyone standing in his way to
finding his place where he could accept a situation. This time, she had a
feeling he wanted to make her world okay, and she wasn’t used to someone
supporting her.

He
arched her neck and sucked on her neck. "Give me his name."

The
strong tug on her skin broke her stubbornness. "I will, but you have to
promise to listen."

She
winced. There was no way the mark he put on her neck would be gone on Monday.
"Nathan, please."

He
whispered into her ear, but the tone wasn't gentle. "I'm not letting you
get away with keeping a secret from me. When you're done, I'll show you what
happens when you lie to me."

Her
legs folded and he caught her under the arms. He eased her down until her knees
hit the wooden floor, and she inhaled deeply with relief. "It's Curt
Stewart."