Free Rapturous by M. S. Force Page B

Hollywood standards, but she quickly became everything to a motherless twelve-year-old girl. If it wasn’t for Marlowe’s unwavering friendship, I have no idea what would’ve become of me. She’s the one who suggested Flynn hire me after I graduated from UCLA.
    Leah scans the first page of my report on Marlowe and then glances at me. “I think I love you.”
    I smile at her and hope I’vemade another new friend. My dad always says you can never have too many friends.
    By the time I leave the office, it’s nearly eight o’clock and dark, too late to run on the beach or Rollerblade on the boardwalk. That leaves me with yoga videos in my living room. Finding my Zen will be a challenge tonight, but I’ll give it a whirl.  
    The one good thing about working late is I’ve missed the worstof rush-hour traffic, and I’m home in twenty minutes. I unbuckle the roses that I’ve belted into the passenger seat and carry them to the elevator, emerging on the fifth floor to find Hayden sitting outside my door.
      I’m so surprised to see him that I nearly drop the heavy vase.  
    “I guess the fact that you brought them home means you like them,” he says as he stands.
    “They’re nice.” I focuson not dropping them as I juggle my purse and keys and open the door. “What’re you doing here?”
    “I was hoping we could talk.”
    “I was hoping for that yesterday.”
    He gestures to the flowers. “I said I’m sorry.”
    “I know.”
    “You promised you wouldn’t hate me.”
    “I don’t hate you because we had sex.”
    “But you do hate me.”
    “I hate the way you treated me afterward, as if I don’t matter at all,as if I’m just another of your random bimbos.”
    “You’re neither of those things.”
    “And yet your silence told me I was both. You see my dilemma?”
    “I don’t want you to hate me.”
    “Okay, I won’t.”
    “Why don’t I believe you?”
    The roses have begun to get heavy, so I take them inside and put them on the kitchen counter. I slide open the door to my deck, which overlooks the Pacific, letting in thefresh air and buying myself another minute to prepare to deal with him.
    I turn to find him standing directly behind me. His hands land on my shoulders, and I want to shake him off, to tell him he doesn’t have the right to touch me like that, but I’m frozen. When I see the stark, naked desire in his heated gaze, I can’t seem to breathe, let alone speak.
    “I’m an asshole, Addie. You knew that before.”

    Shaking my head, I say, “No,” in the softest possible whisper.
    “Yes, you did. You know me.”
    “Not like this. I didn’t know you this way before.”
    His hands frame my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. “I never meant to hurt you. I promised Flynn I wouldn’t, and then I did. Because I’m a selfish asshole who has no idea how to do something like this.”
    “Something like this?”
    “Something real.Something that matters.”
    I can’t hear this if he doesn’t mean it or if he means to end it. As tears flood my eyes, I start to shake my head, but he tightens his hold on my face, keeping me from moving and anchoring me for a soft, sweet, devastating kiss. I want to tell him to stop, that he can’t do this to me, but then my arms are around his neck and my mouth is open to his tongue, and I’m lostin him all over again, as if the last two torturous days never happened.
    He kisses me as if I’m the most precious thing in his world, and for that moment, I allow myself to believe that maybe I am. That’s the only way I can silence the frantic protests coming from my better judgment. I can either lose myself in the fantasy or go crazy wondering what it all means.
    His hands fall from my faceto grip my ass as he lifts me without breaking the kiss. Then we’re moving through my dark condo, the same way we did the other morning, only everything is different now. He is different. We come down on the bed, still kissing deeply, but it’s not like before.