34
Zander
Self-Control Only Goes So Far
I WASN’T JUST GOING TO HELL, I was there.
I had literally everything I had ever wanted. I had the woman I’d spied on for years offering to make me come. I had the girl I’d crushed on since I was a boy wanting to know me.
And the only reason she was in my arms was because everything I’d told her was a lie.
A lie just waiting to blow up my life and leave me in pieces.
God, no one had ever asked to take care of me.
Not my family.
Not my sisters.
I was the one who called to check in on them.
I was the one who booked the funerals for our grandparents and handled the estate. I was the one my grandparents made the executor because, all my life, I’d gone out of my way to prove I was dependable, trustworthy, and could fix any problem—medically or otherwise, even though I was a fraud some days.
Like I told Lori, I’d been born wanting to save lives, but it’d taken losing my dad to turn that calling into OCD. I still felt guilty, even now. Still believed if I’d been older or read more textbooks or had a little more time, I could’ve become the doctor he needed to survive.
When he died, I promised myself I would never let anyone down again.
I’d gotten so good at keeping that promise that no one asked about the toll it took on me.
Fuck, I hadn’t even noticed.
Until her.
Until I’d sat in my empty house tonight, staring at my single plate, sinking beneath a crush of loneliness that came with decades of denial. I’d given Sailor a ride today because she needed it, and I’d let her go because she couldn’t be around me without bad memories, but those couple of hours we’d spent together without a mask, without my lies, had successfully cracked my facade and left me with a yearning that felt like a goddamn dagger in my gut.
And now this motherfucking alter ego had everything I ever wanted.
A skull-masked wannabe Superman got the girl, which was exactly how all those comic books went. Clark Kent never got the girl. He got to stand by while Lois Lane threw herself at the version of himself he wished he could be.
Hot anger roared through me.
Frustration that I hadn’t had the balls to reach out and take what I wanted when I had the chance. If I’d asked Sailor out the day she’d moved in with Melody, perhaps she would never have been hurt by Milton, and I would’ve been able to let down my guard to let her care for me.
She wouldn’t have turned down my invitation tonight or be so blatantly brave toward a stranger in a mask. Her forwardness toward X and her fear of me as Zander absolutely butchered me. Would she be this willing with other men when X vanished from her life? Fuck, the thought of her being this free with someone else didn’t just butcher me, it slaughtered me.
I-I don’t know how much longer I can keep up this act.
“Your thoughts are very loud, but you’re not speaking,” Sailor murmured, her wrists so delicate and fragile in my hold.
I flexed my fingers, testing her. She didn’t look afraid. She didn’t fight to escape or show any signs that me holding her sent her into dark places. If Zander held her like this, she’d be screaming, and fuck that hurt.
Christ, it broke me.
Because I wanted so, so badly to accept what she was offering. I wanted to be a selfish asshole. I wanted to demand her to get on her knees and make me come.
But I couldn’t.
Because I wasn’t that guy.
I’d never been that guy.
But tonight, I desperately wanted to be different.
But if I was, I’d ruin any chance of winning her when the mask came off and my glasses went back on and fuck !
In a burst of rage, I swooped to my feet and swung her off me.
Keeping her wrists trapped, I bent with her, depositing her on the couch with her hands bound by mine. She sucked in a breath as my face loomed over hers. So close. Too close. It would be so easy to kiss her. Just a drop of my chin and—
You’re wearing a mask.
Fuck, I had to get out of here.
Letting her go, I kicked the coffee table out of the way and raked both hands through my hair. The clunk of my boot against wood and the clank of spoons in bowls made her flinch.
And for the first time in my life, I didn’t have the capacity to check in with her. I had no strength to sit beside her, wrap her in a nurturing hug, and beg for her forgiveness.
I-I’m done.
Dropping my hands, I marched toward the kitchen.
Peng meowed where he sat having a bath.
That damn cat had almost gotten me discovered tonight. When she’d called me Zander, my heart literally stopped. And I did mean literally. Only pure terror defibbed it again.
How I’d managed to stay still and not buckle to the floor was a testament to all those days I’d lost the battle helping someone and had to put on a stoic facade to give the news to the families I’d failed.
My pulse still hadn’t calmed down.
I kept waiting for her to say she knew it was me all along.
My slip about losing patients, then lying that I was a vet. The fact that Peng recognised me as the guy who rescued him? Christ, he was as bad as his mistress in wanting to show his gratitude. I could barely claw the creature off me.
I mean…come on!
She was smart, wasn’t she?
Had she guessed who I was and played me right back, or was Colin correct in that different eye and hair colour truly could trick a person into believing what was right before their very nose?
What did I have to do to make her guess?
Because if she guessed and still wanted me, then all my problems disappeared.
I could stay here.
I could be with her.
I’d know once and for all that I wouldn’t lose her if I came clean, but no way could I take that risk on my own. No way was I brave enough to tear off my mask and reveal who I was without knowing if she’d accept me first.
I didn’t want to move to Australia.
But I didn’t want to lose her more.
Sailor tapped my shoulder.
I spun around, cursing the damn kitten for not getting out of the way and my own mind for tangling with thoughts. “What?” I barked.
She rocked backward on her heels. “D-Did I say something wrong?”
Any other night, I would apologise. I would be the gentleman, the guardian—the friendly neighbourhood stalker who’d signed up to take on all her pain so she could breathe a little easier.
But I was goddamn suffocating and no longer had the capacity to breathe for myself, let alone her. “I’m sorry, but...I have to go. I-I can’t do this anymore.”
Colour bled out of her face. “No, don’t leave. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just…I loved being with you last night and-and I wanted to—”
“I get it.” I stepped over Peng and entered the kitchen. “I enjoyed it too. But it’s best we stop before either of us gets hurt.”
Sailor chased, cutting in front of me and whacking her palm on my chest. “Please, don’t go.” Tears welled in her eyes.
Ah, fuck.
My shoulders slouched.
All my self-directed rage sizzled out as if her tears were a bucket of water on a forest fire. Taking a step into her, I grabbed her around her nape and pressed her against me like I had the first time I’d broken in and found her screaming from a nightmare.
She stiffened as I wrapped my arms around her and embraced her close.
Sighing heavily, I pressed my mask-covered lips to her hair. “I’m sorry for upsetting you. I didn’t mean to explode like that. That isn’t me. I’m not that guy. I think…I think you’re drawing out a lot of suppressed emotions, and I have no right to take them out on you.” Kissing her through my mask, I pulled back and cupped her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Lori. Like I’ve said countless times, I will never hurt you, even if I’m in a bit of a mood.”
A single tear streaked her porcelain skin.
I rubbed it with my thumb. “Forgive me?”
Her fingers wrapped hesitantly around my wrists, burning me with electrical currents.
“Forgiven.” Sniffing, she gave a watery smile. “But you’re only proving my point that you’ve done whatever it takes to help me, but you haven’t let me help you .” Fierce determination filled her pretty face. “I wouldn’t be a good friend if I let you walk out like this. You’re the one hurting tonight, X. Not me. What will it take to let me take care of you?”
I went to pull away.
She dug her fingernails into my wrists. Her gaze dropped to my mask and her lips quirked into a sad little smile. “What would it take to let me kiss you, just once?”
My body flatlined.
My heart went berserk.
Highly inappropriate humour made me reply, “General anaesthesia would probably do the trick.”
She didn’t respond for a second, but then a soft laugh escaped. “You’re saying if I found some chloroform and knocked you out, I could have my wicked way with you?”
Rolling my wrists to remove her grip, I shrugged. “I wouldn’t be able to say no, would I?”
“Alright.” She let me go and crossed her arms with a nod. “Nana taught me how to make a few sleeping tinctures. It might take a few hours to kick in, but if you drank an entire vial, you would be drowsy enough for me to take advantage.”
I sagged against the doorframe between the living room and kitchen. “It wouldn’t be taking advantage, believe me.”
“Then why don’t you let me help?” Her gaze dropped to my jeans where my erection hadn’t gone down despite the mess of my heart. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?” She stomped her foot adorably, reminding me of a younger version of her when I’d called her Lori and pulled her pigtails.
God, even those memories hurt.
“How about you box up my dessert, and I’ll go? I’ll accept your thank-you in the form of sugar.”
“Unfortunately, that choice is no longer available.” She pouted. “The ice cream has melted and ruined it.”
Arching my chin at the rest of the cake on the countertop, I smirked. “No problem. I’ll just have a piece of that instead.”
“Tell you what…” She moved toward the cake in question and picked up the knife she’d used to slice two pieces. “I’ll serve you another if you eat it here.”
I sighed heavily and pointed at my mask. “And we’ve circled back to the fact that I can’t eat and I’m not taking this off.”
“I agree, that is an issue. But I think I’ve figured out a solution to that little problem.”
My eyebrows knitted together, the squeeze-on fake piercing tugging uncomfortably. “You have? How?”
Flashing me a smile, she tossed the knife back down. “Wait there.” Darting from the kitchen, she headed toward the back of the house where the laundry matched the floorplan of my place. Unlike mine, where I’d installed a drying rack that came down from the ceiling and tucked away all the machines in slim-line cupboards, Sailor’s was cramped with bamboo shelving holding copious amounts of creams and concoctions thanks to Melody’s business.
She came back with something colourful in her hand.
I eyed her suspiciously as she dropped the item on the countertop. “Ta-da!”
Plucking the black silk ribbon, I hefted the surprisingly heavy eye mask. A motif of a butterfly with its two wings spread out to cover someone’s eyes glimmered with iridescent purples, blues, and blacks. “I’m confused.”
Taking it from me, she rubbed the thick padding. “Nana imported a bunch of these to sell with her essential oil blends. The interior is filled with absorbent micro beads that hold the scent of lavender for sleeping or peppermint for headaches. It also entirely blocks out light and vision. You can’t see a damn thing with it on.”
I stiffened. “Y-You’re suggesting to blindfold yourself?”
“I am.” She swung the eye mask around on its silk ribbons. “With the way the beads mould, I swear I won’t be able to see anything. I’ll wear it the entire time you eat. I promise I won’t remove it until you say I can. Once you’ve enjoyed your thank-you gift, you don’t have to rush away. We can talk or listen to music or…make out.”
And there it was.
My limit.
I finally found the point where I turned into an asshole.
Snatching the eye mask, I stepped into her personal space. “Turn around.”
She swallowed hard, her blue gaze flaring before she nodded and obeyed.
Reaching around her, I positioned the butterfly wings above her nose and rasped, “Hold it over your eyes.”
Without a word, she did as she was told, gently pressing the beads to form a barrier over her sight. Once she found a comfortable shape, I tied a knot at the back of her head. My hands shook as I spun her around to face me. She swayed a little; my fingers dug into her shoulders, keeping her still.
Vestiges of the doctor who would never put someone’s mental health at risk for his own gain had to ask, “Are you okay? Is this alright? You sure this isn’t too much, too soon?”
Licking her lips—her tongue driving me motherfucking crazy—she nodded. “I’m okay. I trust you.”
I caught her chin and held her all while my heart pounded so fast my blood turned to ash. “You really shouldn’t.”
She trembled a little and placed a hand over my thundering heart. “I know you won’t hurt me.”
“Not intentionally, no.”
“And it’s because of that honesty that I know you won’t hurt me, even un intentionally.”
I nudged her nose with mine. “It’s inevitable if we keep doing this.” My mask blocked our skin from touching. Fear about removing it clenched my gut. What if she could see? What if this was a ruse and I was falling for it, all because I couldn’t fight her anymore?
“I should walk out that door and never see you again,” I grunted, grazing my mouth over hers, the cotton keeping us chaste.
“You could…” She sucked in a breath at how close I was. “But I’d really rather you stayed.”
“Because you think there’s a debt between us?”
“Because you helped me, and I want to help you.”
Help.
God that word could mean so much.
My head swam. My self-control quickly eroded with every chug of my pulse. With her willingly blinded and surrendered and trusting and mine …the pieces of me that clung to right and wrong, good over bad, cracked, broke, and shattered.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed just as my hands locked around her hips and marched her backward.
She squeaked as I manhandled her to the wall beside the fridge. “Sorry for what?”
I fought my quaking as I yanked my mask down, cupped her cheeks, and trapped her with my body. “For this.”
And then, I lowered my head, tipped up her chin, and kissed her.
The second my lips claimed hers, the box TV in the living room turned on, hissing with static and snow. Peng meowed. The curtains fluttered. And a bolt of lightning shot from my heart to Sailor’s.
We both groaned.
Her hands flew up to fist in my hair.
Mine shifted to the back of her head, cradling her so I could kiss her as hard as I wanted.
I didn’t stop to make sure she was okay.
I couldn’t stop.
The protective part of me drowned beneath a possessive asshole who wasn’t satisfied with a simple kiss.
It wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough because I wanted goddamn everything.
Licking the seam of her lips, I plunged my tongue into her chocolate-flavoured mouth.
Sagging against me, she yanked my hair, demanding harder.
I delivered.
We became as unhinged as the other, our heads dancing, tongues knotting, lips wide, and breath ragged.
My hands dropped from her nape to her waist.
Not breaking the kiss, I shoved her up the wall and groaned as she wrapped her legs around my hips, connecting us, punishing us.
Grinding against her, the kiss turned demonic as we fought a war of lust, tripping straight into violence with every lash of our tongues.
I lost myself to her, to her kiss, to her power.
My hips surged up, rocking, needing.
The release I’d given myself roared back into agony. It burned through me, deleting all rationality, turning me inhuman.
I couldn’t do it anymore.
Couldn’t fight instinct anymore.
Gathering her into my arms, I carried her into the living room. Wrenching my mouth from hers, I kicked away the coffee table, dumped her unceremoniously on the couch, then blanketed her with my body.
The TV kept hissing, the cat stopped meowing, and the breeze that shouldn’t exist rippled over my arms.
I fell on her and kissed her with years of pent-up longing, decades of agonising desire, and lifetimes of denial.
And she kissed me back.
Lick for lick, bite for bite.
Our teeth clacked. Our noses bumped. I’d never kissed someone this deeply or madly before.
And I didn’t want to stop.
I want more.
Keeping one hand on her waist pinning her to the couch, I used my other to stroke down her body. She arched and quivered as my fingers drew a path of fire between us.
I had no capacity to ask for permission.
I’d gone past the point of sanity.
My fingers found her flat stomach; they burrowed down the front of her tantalising short shorts. My eyes flared wide as I found hot wetness instead of underwear. Angling my wrist, I plunged my tongue into her mouth just as I plunged a finger into her pussy.
She went bowstring tight beneath me. Quivering, gasping.
I had just enough brain cells to grunt against her lips, “Tell me to stop, and I stop.”
With a savage little cry, she scratched her fingernails over my scalp and jerked me back to her mouth again. Her legs flopped wide in blatant invitation, the tightness of her shorts trying to cut off the circulation to my hand as I added a second finger and rode her.
I didn’t go slow like last time.
I’d learned what she liked.
I’d gone to school in the dark of her bedroom and understood that a girl like Sailor—a girl who’d been hurt and lived alone and spent most of her life being responsible for her own well-being—couldn’t find pleasure if she had time to think about it.
Her worries had snuck in that night. Her whirling mind had been loud enough for me to hear her fears of what she should and shouldn’t do. How she should behave versus letting go.
Milton had tried to kill everything about this woman from her strength to her self-worth, and I had no intention of letting her second-guess her own power.
Kissing her as hard as I could, I pressed my thumb against her clit and thrust.
She screamed into my mouth then turned into a creature I could barely hold without being seriously mauled. Her teeth clamped onto my bottom lip as I thrust inside her.
She clutched my arm, feeling every muscle I used to penetrate her again and again.
Last night, she’d fought a long journey to reach that pinnacle of falling.
Tonight, she started coming before I’d had my fill.
Wait…
Moving my bulk, I went to pull her shorts down so I could taste her again. Only her fingers locked in my hair and dragged me back.
She kissed me like a hellcat, forcing me to give up my attempt at licking her.
I settled for my hand instead.
The blindfold stopped me from seeing the shock and unravelling of her orgasm in her eyes. Her mouth opened wide beneath mine, and I took full advantage as her core went tight around my fingers, then detonated outward with waves of powerful clenches.
Her moans turned to whimpers the longer her release lasted until finally she shuddered, hiccupped, and pulled away from our kiss. “Stop, I’m…it’s too sensitive.”
My fingers stilled immediately. My thumb released the pressure on her clit.
She melted into a puddle beneath me on the couch, sweat misting her face, a single droplet glittering in the hollow of her collarbone.
Bending my head, I licked and nipped my way down her throat, coating her in goosebumps until I reached that salty drop and claimed it for my own.
Neither of us spoke.
I didn’t think we could converse in words anymore.
The longer we lay there, sweaty and sex-crazed, the more I noticed I was paralysed from the waist down. The blood-burning, nerve-slicing, bone-crippling need to come hijacked my ability to move.
Shit.
Stretching beneath me, growing drowsy from her climax, Sailor stupidly brushed against my throbbing cock.
I made a noise I wasn’t proud of. Something tortured and dying, guttural and animalistic.
She froze.
Her hand went to the eye mask as if to tear it off.
I fumbled for my skull scarf, trying to wrench it over my mouth and nose, but…she sucked in a breath and lowered her hand, staying blindfolded.
Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she wriggled a little beneath me. “That’s two debts I owe you now.”
Her leg shifted, pressing against my cock again.
My teeth snapped together. My body burned with catastrophic agony.
Forcing myself to override the paralysing torment in my lower half, I swung my legs off the couch and sat up. My head swam. I clutched my temples, instantly regretting that decision because all I could smell was Sailor on my fingers. All I could see was her glistening desire.
My stomach clenched. My thighs hardened. My cock threatened to come without any other stimulation.
“I, uh…” My voice resembled a canyon after a landslide. “I have to go.”
“No!” Snapping upright, she fumbled for me. Readjusting her illegally short shorts, she kneeled beside me and traced her fingers from my face down my chest.
Her lips were wet from our kiss, and her breath came in short little pants.
With her eyes blindfolded, she looked far too young, far too innocent for the sort of thoughts colliding in my sickly savage brain.
“Consider the debt cleared, Lori.” I clamped a hand on her shoulder, preventing her from coming closer. “I took the gift I wanted. Having you unravel for me is the best kind of thank you. And I, ughhhh —”
All the air in my body gushed out as her hand slid down my t-shirt-covered belly and found my overheated erection.
“Ah, fuck.” My eyesight went black. My legs went numb. I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop her from unbuckling my belt, unzipping my jeans, and sneaking her tiny hand into my boxer-briefs.
The second her fingers found me, I thrust into her palm and made a pitiful noise. Not quite a grunt, not quite a groan. A beg really. A motherfucking beg to cure me before I died of heart failure right there on her couch.
Her fingers wrapped tighter around me, her thumb pressing against the top of my slick crown.
I had precisely two point two seconds to do the right thing.
With a shaking hand that barely functioned, I grabbed her around the wrist and stopped her first jerk.
“ Wait ,” I strangled.
She shook her head, her blonde hair messy, the blindfold cutting around her head with a band of black silk. “Let me take care of you. I can hear how much pain you’re in.”
“I-I’m fine.” Pulling her arm, I tried to be gentle all while fighting the highly aggressive beast within. The beast who wanted to wrap his fingers around hers and teach her how I liked it.
How to squeeze me. Pump me. Make me come.
“I can’t.” With a burst of strength, I tore her fingers off me and pushed her back. “I’m sorry for manhandling you so roughly, but I really can’t let you—”
“Yes, you can. I want to. Can’t you see I’m not doing this out of obligation, X. I want to .” With a frustrated curse, she fell back over me, her hand blindly searching for my cock. It arrowed straight up, begging her to find it. Having her sightless and eager, knowing she couldn’t see me or the state she’d put me in?
Fuck, it made me want to fist her hair and guide her face to my lap. To guide her to the part of me she seemed to need and surrender every shred of power I had left directly into her deliciously hot mouth.
But as much as I feared I would have an aneurysm if I didn’t come soon, I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t be that selfish because when the day came that she found out it was me hiding behind this mask, I would never be able to look at her again.
The guilt would eat me alive.
Grabbing her chin between my arousal-coated fingers, I held her firm. “I’m going to go.” With my other hand, I tried to tuck myself away.
Every nudge against my swollen flesh hurt.
Shit , it hurt.
Her fingers lashed out and found me, making me sag and stiffen at the same time. She tranquilised me. With a single touch, she shackled me to that couch, and all my good intentions flew out the goddamn window.
“Just once, okay? I just...if I can’t see you, I want to hear you.” She shrugged sadly. “I just want to take care of you the way you took care of me. It’s not affecting my mental health. I’m fully here with you, aware and willing and happy. I’m happy , X. I feel powerful and sexy, and I really, really want to do this for you.” Sucking in a breath, she stopped breaking me and crucified me instead. “Please?”
I couldn’t speak.
I merely let go and leaned back.
With a heavy groan, I spread my legs and let my head fall.
Her lips tipped into a sinful smile, the butterfly mask over her eyes keeping her blind as she scooted a little closer on her knees and fisted me hesitantly. “That’s more like it.”
I chuckled-coughed-choked.
And then I cried out like a pubescent teen as her fingers looped tighter, somehow finding the perfect pressure.
My eyes rolled back in my head. “I’m telling you now, I’m going to severely embarrass myself.”
“As long as it feels good for you, I don’t care.”
“Everything about you feels good,” I whispered, my tongue almost slurring as if I was drunk. “After tasting you yesterday, I had no choice but to service myself. You were in my nose, my mouth, my heart.”
My voice cut off as she stroked me, long and slow.
It was torturous.
Forcing words to form, I added, “I came in a few strokes. So it’s really me who should be thanking you .” I groaned mid-sentence, my breath coming fast and shallow as she pumped me again. “I haven’t felt a release that explosive in a really long time.”
“Do you think this one will be better than that one?”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded, unable to speak like a normal person. “Y-You’re going to break me. I can… Christ —” I suffered a full-body spasm. “I can already feel it.”
“Good.” Her hand pulsed, squeezing around me as she pressed down then came back up.
I almost passed out.
My hands balled into fists by my thighs. My legs turned to stone. My heart smoked with speed. And all I could focus on was what she did to me. The way her thumb swirled at the top and pressed down. The way her fingers gripped and jerked.
I lost track of time and space and sanity as she returned the favour by shoving me up a rocky, agonising hill and held me poised and panting at the top.
“S—Lori.” My teeth pulled back as I snarled at the ceiling. “Fuck, please—”
Her hand came down, grinding to my base.
I lost it.
I didn’t just come, I ruptured.
Supernova pain quaked between my legs and shot along every nerve ending of my cock. My stomach cramped. My bones broke. I snarled as the first ripple exploded, followed by another and another and another.
Ribbons of white spurted up my black t-shirt as she followed my body’s natural rhythm and milked me. She didn’t stop and when the end came with a blanket of sensitivity and sweetest agony, I snatched her wrist and stilled her. “Enough. I…” I sucked in a shallow breath. “I-I’m done.”
With a sultry smile, she let me go and held up her fingers. “Tell me, X…do I need to wash my hand? I can’t see after all.”
A shocked chuckle interrupted my attempt at catching air. Translucent liquid roped between her fingers, marking her completely as mine.
Without a word, I tucked myself away, buckled and zipped, then threaded my fingers with hers. Her wet ones merged with my dry ones, combining our arousal. Sifting my other hand through her hair, careful not to undo her blindfold, I tugged her close and kissed her.
Our lips pressed, parted, and joined.
Our tongues hunted, found, and tangled.
We kissed with our palms joined and fingers knotted, and I’d never been so at peace or so fucking broken.
I wasn’t just falling for this girl.
I’d fallen.
And I was petrified of losing something I’d never had.
This was the last time.
You can’t do this again.
Breaking the kiss, I nudged her to recline against the armrest and stood on shaky legs. Peng instantly trotted toward me, his mangled whiskers bristling with judgement.
I gave him a glower not to interfere, then bent over Sailor and pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead. “Keep the blindfold on until you hear the door close.”
She tried to grab me, but I swooped back too fast. “Don’t go yet. You don’t have to rush off.”
“Believe me. I do.” I rubbed at my aching chest. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll never go.”
Her breath hitched. “See? You can’t say things like that and then vanish.”
I didn’t reply.
The heavy footfalls of my boots gave away my exit and her shoulders sagged. “At least take the cake with you. If you don’t, I’ll door-knock every house in this town until I find you.”
With her threat biting holes in my soul, I stole the cake, opened the back door, and disappeared into the night.