Hurting To Feel (Carpool Dolls) (7 page)

"Addy,
get in the car," Nate said.

"Hey,
Rafferty." Mr. Cartmen let her go and held out his arms in a sign of no
foul. "Nice night."

"You
ever
touch her again, you'll fucking die." Nate stepped out of the
car, escorted her to the passenger side, opened the door, and she climbed
inside.

Safe
inside the car, Addison watched Nate walk around to the driver's side, ignoring
Mr. Cartmen, and climb in. She hurried and latched the seatbelt, afraid of
making him even more upset.

His
whole body screamed that he wasn't lying. He'd kill Mr. Cartmen and although,
she didn't enjoy Nate ordering her to get in the car with him, she didn't want
anyone's murder on her shoulders.

Nate
hit the accelerator. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I
only wanted to go to the parking garage," she whispered. "I wasn't
with Mr. Cartmen."

"He'd
fuck you and leave you before you could get a dime out of his pocket." He
shifted into a higher gear. "Do you think you're any different to him than
the whores he hangs around?"

"Nate,
I wasn't with him." She pressed her hands into her thighs. "He's a
client, and he saw me walking. I stopped, and he asked me out. I told him
no."

"I
know what you were doing." He braked on the turn into the parking garage.
"I've seen you walking in front of the building the last few nights. I saw
Cartmen approach you, and I know he's not the one you were hoping would stop
you."

Her
mouth came open and she stared at the dash. He couldn't possibly know. Sure, he
could guess, but he had no idea of her schedule or where her clients dropped
her off.

He
kept turning the car around in the garage, working his way up to the third
level. At her parking spot, he slammed on the brakes and cut the engine.
"I want to know why you've been going out of your way to walk past my
building, looking up at the windows for the last three nights. What were you
looking for, Addy, and so help me God, if you don't tell me what I want to
hear, the next time someone like Cartmen comes around, I won't be there to save
your ass."

She
looked at him, and then she jerked off her seatbelt and got out of the car.
Furious with herself for even thinking he cared, she marched to the Porsche. At
the door, she dug through her purse, cursing under her breath at not having her
keys out and ready.

When
her fingers clutched her remote, two hands whirled her around and backed her
against the vehicle. On heels, bent backward, all she could do is hold on to
Nate's coat to keep from falling. "What are you doing? Let go of me!"

"Answer
me," he said.

In
her personal space, his face hovering over hers, she stared into eyes that
searched hers. Aware of the anger, the position he'd put her in, and finally being
able to see with her own eyes he was fine, she decided to tell him the truth.

"You,"
she whispered. "I tried. I've thought of every excuse why I should stay
away, and I still walked by your office in hopes you'd be walking out and I'd
see you. I needed a glimpse, that's all, to see if you're all right. And, you
are. I can see that myself. That's all I needed."

"Fuck,
Addy," he murmured, the tension eased from his face right before he captured
her mouth.

Nothing
about his kiss was gentle. His lips bruised hers as he hungrily tasted her with
his tongue. Her body slid down on the car, and he shoved his thigh between her
legs, trapping her, too keep her standing while he continued taking everything
he could. And she let him.

No,
she needed him.

His
desperation and anger, directed at her, filled her in a way she'd never
expected. She swiped her tongue along his and pulled back, sucking his bottom
lip, and then diving back in. Her breath came fast, and she clutched at him,
fearful he'd stop. Afraid he'd walk away from her and she'd lose in the end.

"Addy,"
he mumbled against her lips.

"No,
please." She plastered herself against his body. "Don't go."

She
trembled, the heat that had her climbing his body moments ago vanished to cold,
dark, fear she couldn't name. Left hollow, she held on to him with all the
strength she had, which wasn't much considering he'd taken her higher in one
kiss than any other man.

"Sh."
He smoothed the hair away from her face. "Doll, look at me."

She
raised her gaze. He looked back at her intently, rubbing his lips together. An
urge to cry came over her, and she could no more hold her emotions inside than
explain what was happening to her.

"Give
me your keys," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I'm taking you
home with me."

A
sob trickled out of her mouth, and she searched for her keys and found them on
the ground. Disoriented and unable to comprehend what was happening, she held
on to the hand he offered. He led her to the car, and she reluctantly let go.
Unwilling to face going home alone without him, she concentrated on the moment.
He was keeping her.

Chapter
Eight

Addison's
control slipped.

Three
blocks from Nate's house, Addison closed herself off from him. Nate squeezed
her hand. All the way home, he refused to let go.

In
the parking garage, he'd felt the trembles wracking her body, the desperation
in her kiss, the haze that'd come over her when he pinned her against the car. He
shifted, without letting go of her, because he had a feeling if he dropped her
hand, he'd lose her for good.

Surprised
to find his own desire looking back at him gave him a heady experience. He'd
always held himself back. Every woman, every date, every one night stand, he
went through the motions, hiding himself from them. Only going out with them
for one reason and that was to ease the pressure.

Addison's
reaction was unbridled and dangerous.

"Addy,"
he said.

She
yanked her hand, but he held on tight. "What?"

"Stay
with me…we're almost there." He used the heel of his hand to shift down as
he approached his driveway.

All
she had to do was wait until he could get his hands on her again. He'd explain
what happened to her. Not once had he had a woman react to him in the way he
needed, to that way of perfection that he craved. She matched him perfectly,
but he also knew he wasn't ready to have the truth thrown at her.

He'd
scare her. She wasn't ready. Nor was she going to understand. Hell, he didn't
understand why he needed to be the way he was on most days. Professor Frank
tried to explain to him what drove his way of thinking, his body's desire, his
need to own, hurt, and possess. Instead of tapping the demons inside of him, Professor
Frank helped him find other outlets while retaining his need.

He'd
gone clean for a time, throwing himself into a business that grew until it was
bigger than most anything in the area. Yet, his success wasn't enough. It was
never enough.

He
no longer received the satisfaction over adding another contract, growing a
bigger client list, or buying up real estate. Sure, the progress he made
appeased him momentarily, but underneath the surface, he hungered for more.

Always
hungry.

Going
to the gym the other night and stepping into the ring was throwing fire on a
man like him. He reached up, pushed the remote garage door opener, and drove at
a crawl into the darkened garage. He had to check himself before he scared
Addison more or worse, hurt her.

He
shut off the engine and pressed into the seat. Addison sat silently beside him.
He rolled his head along the headrest and looked at her. Her fear pleased him.

"I'm
going to take you inside, and I want you to stay there. I don't want you to
leave or walk away, until I'm done talking." He swallowed over the
tightening of his chest. "Can you do that for me, doll?"

"I
don't know," she said.

"You
have my word. Nothing will happen between us that you don't want to
happen." He lifted her hand, which he still held, to his lips. "Can
you trust me?"

She
shook her head, and he grinned. Her honesty was welcome.

"Then,
I'll show you that you can trust me. Will you be okay with me making you feel
good? To repeat the way you'd opened yourself up in the parking garage?"
he said.

"I'm
scared," she whispered.

He
lifted his chin. "I know that too. I'll make it okay for you, I
will."

"How?"
She lowered her gaze to their linked hands. "I feel like I'm going to
die—she wrinkled her nose—that's not true, but back there…at the garage, I
couldn't even breath or think. I don't want to go through that again. I can't
do it. It's not who I am. I can't be the kind of person you want, who acts out
of control. I-I there's a reason I can't be with you, and I'm sorry but there's
no compromises."

He'd
waited, letting her have her say. Having patience with her as she tried to talk
herself out of getting out of the door practically killed him, because he could
see the affect her confession had on her.

She
trembled, not from a deep new desire leaving her weary yet excited. She was flat
out scared. He dropped her hand.

She
pulled her arm to her waist as if keeping her distance would protect her, and
curled into herself. He looked away. He'd seen enough.

"Get
out of the car, Addy." He opened his door and climbed out.

When
she failed to join him, he marched to the other side of the car, swung the door
open, unlatched her seat belt, and stood back. "Out."

He
gave her no room to argue or protest. If she wanted to see what they could have
together, if she wanted to see what he gave her a hint of each time he was with
her and what she craved, yet confused her, he'd show her.

She
climbed out and stood beside him. "Nate? I can't—"

"You
can." He pivoted and led the way to the back door, expecting her to
follow.

She
proved him right, when she ducked under his arm and entered the kitchen ahead
of him. He flipped on the light, and waited while she studied the room, getting
her bearings.

Until
bringing her inside his home, he never realized how little time he spent at the
house. He slept here, but he ate at the office or with clients, and hit the gym
when he had some free time. The monstrosity was only a place to lay his head.

This
area and his belongings meant nothing to him. Most days he wanted to walk away
and go back to the streets to where he was accepted. Two years ago, he'd tried
to go cold turkey and give it all up. He handed the keys to his brother and
walked away from it all. He'd disappeared for three days, not knowing where he
went or where he stopped. He drank to excess and woke up in a twelve dollar a
night hotel room, reeking of bourbon and sporting bruises all over his
knuckles.

Addison
gave him a reason not to run. She offered herself to him, and he wouldn't abuse
her trust. Somehow, someway, he'd figure out a way to make her understand what
kind of person he was, and hope that he was right about her.

If
he were wrong about her feeding off his need for power, it'd destroy her. In
the end, if she refused to learn how they could benefit from each other, his
choice could kill him.

He'd
given up on finding someone to accept him. To him, Addison was his last chance
to believe he could form a relationship with anyone.

"Come
with me." He walked through the kitchen and out into the hallway.

At
the other end of the house, he opened his office. Keeping the lights off, he sat
down on the leather couch below the windows. With a bit of light from the moon
streaming into the room, he'd be able to see her face, but give her the added
security to hide in the darkness if she wanted.

The
darkness saved him for years.

He
snagged her hand and pulled her down on his lap. She stiffened, and he
tightened his hold. "Relax. You're going to listen to what I have to say. After
I'm done, I'll answer all your questions."

"Easy
for you to say," she mumbled. "You're the one bossing me
around."

For
the first time all week, he laughed. The tension left him, and the hilarity he
found in the situation seemed to anger Addison and put her on firmer ground. He
clamped his hand on her hip and kept her from getting up.

"You
have no idea." He pulled her head toward him with his other hand, and
pressed his lips against her hair. "No fucking clue."

"Then
tell me," she whispered. "I won't tell anyone."

"No
one would believe you anyway." He sighed heavily. "Or, they would,
but it doesn't matter. It's who I am, and if someone wants to use it against
me, more power to them. They won't succeed."

She
shivered. He leaned his chin to the top of her head, which he'd tucked against
his neck. He liked this position.

"I
still won't tell." She planted her hand against his chest. "I'm not
the kind of person who shares with others, so there's no reason to gossip about
you."