18. Talia

Chapter 18

Talia

“ W hat are you doing here?”

Kieran’s gaze moves away from a row of dildos displayed in a plexiglass drawer. I brought him to the least extreme of the playrooms, but it’s still Crossroads. The space radiates eroticism from every inch. If I’d been thinking straight, I would have taken him to one of the offices.

His eyebrows lift. “Is the silent treatment over, then?”

My teeth clench. I’m too spun up to even attempt understanding why I’m so angry. All I know is that I feel like everything’s falling apart.

Like I’m falling apart.

When I can unhinge my jaw, I spit out, “It took me a minute to remember how to speak without screaming.”

His lips thin, eyes sparkling .

“If you laugh right now, I swear to God I’ll lose my mind. And take off those stupid glasses.”

I regret the demand when the undiluted force of his blue eyes hits me. “Better?”

“No,” I snap. “Now answer my question. Why are you here? More specifically, what did you hope to accomplish by inserting yourself into my private life and derailing the entire evening for me?”

He winces. “Ouch.”

My anger softens the tiniest bit. “Dammit, Kieran. Why?”

He walks to the wide, padded bench in the middle of the room and sits. From his grave expression, he’s finally realized how close I am to strangling him.

“Remember what I said about why I haven’t dated anyone?”

My heart skips a beat. “Yes, of course.”

“I wasn’t being totally honest. I did feel that way. Until very recently. Now I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to know you. I want you in my bed and my life. It’s as simple—and complicated—as that. I’ve decided I don’t care that you’re my therapist. In fact, you’re fired.”

My breath catches. “Don’t.”

A spark of amusement lifts the corner of his mouth. “You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

“Like I ever could,” I growl.

He fights a wider smile. “Let me amend my statement. There’s one scenario in which you can order me around to your heart’s content.”

Panic sparkles over my skin. “We’ve made so much progress the last few weeks. Wednesday night was huge. Didn’t you feel it? We really got somewhere.”

“I did. You’re a great therapist, no question. I just don’t want you to be mine.”

“Please reconsider,” I say, not caring that I sound desperate. “I can still help you.”

The vestiges of humor vanish from his voice. “If you want to help me, Talia, tell me why you’re fighting this so hard. I already know you’re attracted to me. Fireworks don’t hold a candle to what happens when we touch.” Darkness passes through his eyes. “Is it the security issues? My restrictive lifestyle? I know it’s a lot. I’m selfish for asking you to accept?—”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with it!” I explode.

He leans forward, expression taut. “What’s the problem, then? I’m smart, fit, and relatively charming. I don’t have any STDs or illegitimate children. I’m a good cook. I do my own laundry. My bank account balance has an obscene number of zeros. Most importantly, I want to eat you out until you pass out and then go back for seconds.” He pauses, head tilting. “You’re blushing. You like the idea, don’t you? My face between those beautiful thighs?”

“I’m frustrated ,” I hiss.

“You’re aroused.”

“You’re delusional! ”

His voice lowers to a growl. “I’m perfectly sane, and you know it.”

I hit the red zone of emotional overload. My eyes start to sting. Horrified, I spin away before the first tear falls and swipe angrily at my face.

“Talia,” he whispers. “I know you feel something for me.”

Forgetting my tears, I whip around. “It’s in your head!”

He stands and swallows the distance between us in three strides. I suck in a breath as his fingers curl around my throat, tilting my face to his. My knees weaken; I lock them but can’t prevent a full-body shudder. His palm is hot and dry, the press of his fingers excruciatingly gentle. My heart pounds in my ears, my neck. Between my legs.

“This is in my head?” he whispers, his mouth dipping toward mine but stopping a hairsbreadth away. “Your pupils just blew. I can feel your racing pulse. Try another lie, or admit you want me and I’ll kiss you.”

More tears leak from my eyes—of resignation, this time—as I stare up at the man who’s consumed me in one way or another since I was fourteen.

I’ve been such a fool. I really thought I could be his therapist. I thought if I could teach him to bend, I’d be able to prevent him from breaking. I could save him. Repay him.

I was so wrong.

He’s the resilient one. The king who bows to no one. And I’m the one breaking against the walls of my own mind.

My fall was always a foregone conclusion, the tightrope an illusion. Deep down I’m still the girl in that graveyard, overweight and acne-prone with braces and bad hair. And he’s still the beautiful boy who took my secrets and gave me the courage to grow claws.

Now those claws flex, ripping through scar tissue to the girl beneath. Freeing her to experience her first and favorite fantasy coming true. Awe spreads through me, honeyed and hot. And it suddenly doesn’t matter that his feelings for me are transference.

My feelings aren’t.

I’m done fighting them.

Pushing forward against his hand, I fit my mouth to his. For a moment, I hear rain. Feel it. Then there’s only the soft, hot texture of his lips against mine, and his gasp of surprise or maybe relief. He was right—fireworks don’t hold a candle to what happens when we touch. This is the birth of a universe.

I lick his perfect lower lip. His groan is gasoline on the inferno inside me, and my restraint snaps. I yank his hand from my throat and surge against him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair for leverage as I devour his mouth. He tastes like every sin I’ve ever craved. Better than even my wildest fantasy. He kisses me back like he feels the same but keeps his hands on my waist. They tremble and flex like he’s holding back. And he is. For me.

I press harder against him, angling one leg between his and twisting against his erection. He grunts. Trembles harder. His fingers dig into my waist. But he still lets me lead. Somehow, he knows what I need.

When a new need arises, I push him backward until his legs hit the bench. Then I gently tug his hair until he sits. The seal of our mouths breaks. I gaze down at him, my hands framing his face. Swollen lips, flushed cheeks, his hair sticking up, he looks at me like I’m his salvation.

He doesn’t know he’s always been mine.

“Take off your pants,” I tell him.

His eyebrow cocks. “Say please.”

I kiss him again, quick and hard, because I can’t resist. “If you do, I promise it will be worth it.”

His pupils dilate even more. “Close enough.”

As he takes care of his jeans, I take care of privacy, flipping the switch by the door to turn on the red Occupied light. The curtain is already drawn, the lights dimmed. Part of me wants to turn them to full brightness. So I can see more. Everything. But shadows are more apt. This is the void of space, after all, and we’re a silent explosion.

When I turn back to Kieran, I almost trip at the sight that awaits me. As it is, I blink a few times in sheer disbelief and wonder.

“I love that look on your face,” he murmurs, “but I won’t lie, it feels a bit awkward sitting here with my dick in my hand.”

Laughter burbles out of me. His answering chuckle ends in a groan when I hike my skirt over my knees, push his legs apart, and drop to the plush rug between them. Dragging my nails up his thighs, I close my eyes to memorize the heat of his skin, the tickle of sparse hair. A slow inhale traps his scent in my lungs.

His breaths grow harsh. “Wait. Let me?—”

“Shut up, Kieran. I already know what you want. This is what I want.”

I gather spit in my mouth, then lick my palms, one after the other. He watches me do it, lips slightly parted, eyes glittering and dark.

I’m suddenly, acutely happy he’s the first man I’ve gone to my knees for. The secret is a treasure, pulsing and joyful. He doesn’t know how important this is, how vulnerable I’m making myself. What it means.

But I do, and that’s enough.

“Equals don’t kneel.”

“I think they do. But only to each other.”

I take his cock in my slick hands, sliding them down until they meet his body. He’s thick, the skin flushed dark with blood, so hard and needy. A vein throbs against my fingers. Pre-cum leaks from the tip. He’s so close already and I love that it’s because of me. Leaning forward, I pump my hands as I swirl my tongue over the broad, flared head. The silky texture makes me moan. The flavor of his want makes my pussy ache and drip.

He chokes. “Jesus fucking?—”

I take him in my mouth .

“— Christ!”

I find a rhythm with my mouth and hands, relishing his needy grunts and the small, greedy thrusts of his hips. When I pay special attention to the vein on the underside of his shaft, he hisses and loses a bit more control. His fingertips graze my jaw, nose, cheekbones, throat. Like I’m priceless art. Delicate and easily shattered.

Silly man, I’m a lion.

Hollowing my cheeks, I take him into my throat and swallow once, twice. His fingers spasm against my head. With an agonized shout of my name, he comes apart. His pleasure heats my throat and fills me with vibrating, liquid power.

I uncurl my fingers slowly, then lick him root to tip, all the way around, until he topples backward onto the bench with an arm over his face. He’s shaking, his chest heaving.

“I can’t fucking see—holy—what on earth?—”

Moving to my feet, I round the bench and brush a lock of hair from his forehead. The urge to cry reappears, almost undoing me, but I smother it. Just a few more seconds.

His arm slips over his head and he looks up at me, eyes unguarded and tender, full of everything I wish so badly were true. The connection is painful, so I focus instead on locking in every detail I can. I trail my thumbs over his eyebrows, down the peak of his nose, across the faint freckles on his cheekbones.

I don’t feel the tear until it falls.

Kieran’s eyes widen. “Talia?—”

“No,” I whisper .

Bending, I kiss his forehead. Goodbye. Then I take a long step back from the table and smooth down my skirt.

“Go home, Kieran. Please consider reaching out to a new therapist. I personally recommend Dr. Leo Chastain.”

At the forced detachment in my voice, devastation flashes across his face. It hurts me, too. Like a fucking stake to the chest. But I don’t have the luxury of living in fantasies anymore. And that’s what this is—or was.

Kieran sits up slowly, gripping the edges of the bench until his knuckles turn white. Even certain he won’t, I shift back another step in case he tries to reach for me. His head bows, his arms flexing.

“Why do I feel like you just saved my life and then broke my heart?”

My entire self, soul to cells, fractures. Numbness spreads through me—endorphins after pain.

“Look up transference.”

His eyes shutter, face hardening to granite. With a curt nod, he hops off the bench and pulls his pants on.

“I’m sorry.”

The words slip from my lips and tremble in the air. All I can give him. I fracture deeper. Harder. Helpless to do anything but watch as he grabs his hat and glasses off the floor and walks past me.

Pausing at the door, he says softly, “That’s the shittiest part of it. I know you’re sorry. Cowards always are.”

My monster wails and screams, fighting me tooth and nail. But she, too, is a creature of fantasy. She won’t rule me ever again.

“Goodbye, Stirling.”

I flinch at the name.

Then he’s gone.

Nate finds me a few minutes later. I haven’t moved. It isn’t until he gathers me in his arms and starts whispering words of comfort that I realize I’m crying.

“I knelt.”

It takes me four tries to get the words out. They slice off more pieces of me as they go. Soon enough, there’ll be nothing left.

The hand stroking my back stills. He knows exactly what that means. “Then he’s an idiot,” he says finally.

My short laugh rattles with tears. “Not him—me.”

He leans back, showing me wide eyes. “Not possible. Why would you say that?”

“I pushed him away. I thought I was saving him…” I shake my head. “I don’t know anymore. It hurts.”

His expression softens. “You weren’t trying to save him. You tried to save yourself.”

A fresh wave of tears rises. “That, too.”

He smiles sadly and strokes my cheek. “Go easy on yourself. You might be an expert on the heart, but you’ve never been in love before. Welcome to the jungle, Talia.”