Ella Frank - Veiled Innocence

“Maybe so. But that’s what happened.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s shit.”

Grayson laughed then, a full-bodied belly laugh. His shoulders shook, his chest moved, and his teeth gleamed at me. I wanted him. Bad.

“Gee, Addison, tell me how you really feel.”

I walked forward, rolling my eyes. “So how did she end up with him in the sculpture if he left her?”

“Well, Psyche went after him. She was distraught and wanted him back. When she fled the palace, Venus saw her and began unleashing horrible events. Eventually, Psyche was led down to the Underworld to retrieve a flask. The only condition…she was not, under any circumstances, allowed to open it.”

Almost as if he was calling to me, I moved closer to the desk and raised my hands to the top of his shirt.

“But she did, didn’t she? Psyche was too curious not to.”

Grayson’s eyes shifted to what I was doing as I unbuttoned the top button and moved on to the one between my breasts.

“That’s right. It didn’t matter that she’d been told not to. Psyche wanted to know…”

His words trailed off as the third button was freed, and I parted the material, leaving a wide strip of skin.

“Wanted to know what?”

“She wanted to know what was in the flask.”

I pushed one of the sleeves down my arm and let his shirt fall to the floor, leaving me completely naked.

“The first day we met, you told me to be curious. This is me being curious. What was in the flask, sir?”

Grayson’s brow rose as he opened jeans and freed his cock. He was hard, I was wet, and I wanted him all over again.

“Sometimes curiosity should stay just that,” he advised as he pushed his chair away from the desk.

“Should it?”

Standing slowly, he made his way behind me, and my entire body shivered with anticipation.

“Yes. There’s a reason Psyche was told not to open the flask.”

This was wrong. He’d told me that so many times. But I wanted him, and I was going nowhere.

“And that reason was?”

“Because opening it would only bring about the most severe of consequences.”

“Which was?”

“Death. Except she was revived by Cupid, who touched her with his arrow. That sculpture depicts the moment he finds her and fears he’s too late. He reaches for her as she does for him, and his touch makes her immortal.”

I thought his words over as I read the quote hanging above his desk.

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.”

Suddenly, I had a different question. “Do you fight monsters?”

I wondered if Grayson and I had more in common than the need to be with one another.

His hands clasped my bare shoulders before he ran them down my arms—then his mouth was by my ear. “Don’t we all?”

I turned my head to the side until our mouths were only inches apart and pushed for an answer. “What’s your monster?”

“What’s yours?” he pushed back, not responding to my feeble attempt to dig.

Instead of telling him the one thing that would make me less than perfect, I looked back at the quote.

“Who wrote that?”

“Nietzsche. Friedrich Nietzsche.”

He entwined our fingers and brought our right hands up until we were both caressing my breast before he slid the other down to stroke between my thighs.

“He also stated that, ‘The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman as the most dangerous plaything.’”

Our fingers found me hot and wet, and I shivered, resting my head back on his shoulder. I felt safe there, wrapped up in his arms with his warm breath against my ear. Everything I feared, everything that made me the person they all knew, disappeared.

Here in Grayson’s house, I could let go of all the things that made me broken. I could cling to the illusion I was creating. The one where he would complete me, and we’d live happily ever after.

“And you? Are you a true man?”

I sucked in a breath as he pushed two of our fingers inside me.

His mouth found my ear and he sucked my lobe between his lips. He manipulated my fingers until I was brushing them over my nipple and grinding my hips on the hands between my legs. I turned my head, and when our eyes caught, all I could see was the same hunger and need that I was feeling.

“Addison, the time for play stopped when you walked through my front door.” He pressed his lips to mine and conceded, “But the other half is true. You are so fucking dangerous that I’m not sure I’ll survive you.”

Was this where we were supposed to decide?

Every decision comes with a choice. There were two here—bliss or survival—and as the taste of him hit my tongue, I knew my answer.

Naked and aroused, I moved so I was facing him. He stepped closer, causing me to back up against his desk. As my backside hit the edge, he lifted and placed me down on the surface. I spread my thighs for him and braced my hands on the cool wood as he pushed his jeans away from his hips.

“I have no idea why I’m allowing myself to be with you, but I have no clue how to stop.”

Moistening my top lip with a flick of my tongue, I asked, “Do you want to stop?”

He grabbed a condom from the desk as he stepped out of his jeans, kicking them to the side. He walked back to me and slid his hands around my thighs until they were under my knees and then tugged me forward so my ass was on the edge of the desk. When his hard cock pressed up against the entrance of my aching heat, his lips found mine and he admitted, “No, I fucking don’t.”

Present…

“Addison?”

The intrusion of Doc’s voice rips me from my past. I must have fallen asleep in here. I glance around at the rows of books and blink several times before I hear it.

Tick, tick, tock.

Yep, I’m back in reality, all right.

“You were supposed to come and see me at four.”

The clock on the wall indicates it’s now going on five—shit, I slept through therapy. Oh well, sleep here or sleep there. Either way, it usually has me wishing I was elsewhere.

“What are you reading?” he asks, walking over to me.

I look down at the dictionary, still flipped open. I move to shut it, but Doc places his fingers on the page and turns it around.

“Fairy tales…”

I look up at him as he eyes me skeptically.

“Why fairy tales?”

I don’t plan to answer, but before I know it, I hear myself saying, “Why not? We have all the characters. The prince, the princess, and the monster.”

Doc concentrates on me as I push away from the table. “Is that what you think? When you think about what happened?”

I walk around the table until I am shoulder to shoulder with the man who is supposed to be helping me. Really though, he just wants to solve me—like some kind of fucked up puzzle.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me, Doc?

I feel him turn, and I know he’s confused. “Addison?”

Without looking at him, I whisper, “What happened is...the fairy tale ended.”

Just before I walk away, I feel a hand on my arm. “Did it?”

I meet Doc’s eyes this time as he studies me, trying to work me out.

“Of course. There’s no fairy tale without the prince.”

My eyes remain on his until he removes his hand.

“You can talk to me about him, Addison.”

I shake my head. “And which him would that be?”

“Both. But right now I mean Grayson. Talk to me, let me help you.”

“And why would I do that?”

“You need to talk about him.”

“No,” I murmur. “I need to forget. Forget that I knew him. Forget that he ever existed…” I walk to the door thinking, forget that I destroyed him.

“Addison?”

“What?”

“What happened wasn’t your fault.”

And there it is, the unimaginable—me.

What happened was my fault, but like all good fairy tales, everyone chose to believe the lie.

Tick, tick, tock.

Past…

Miss Shrieve.

Mentor? Teacher? Coach? Rival?

As I stood there watching her Tuesday morning, I tried to decide if I needed to be concerned. Did I need to worry about her interest in the man I’d had inside me yesterday afternoon? It was obvious she was interested.

I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. That first day when she’d introduced herself, she’d laughed and leaned in as if she wanted him to kiss her. Not that I blamed Miss Shrieve because I’d wanted him to kiss me too. The only difference was, I’d succeeded and he’d kissed every inch of me the day before.

I also couldn’t forget her invitation to my track meet. That didn’t bother me half as much as her hidden intentions. I didn’t mind her using me to impress him, especially when he’d left with an extra appreciation of me.

I had him, not her. Rival? I think not.

“Addison?”

Shit, Jessica had been talking to me for the last five minutes while I’d been busy observing my hurdles coach. I spun around and plastered a confident smile on my face.

“Sorry, I zoned out for a second.”

“No shit. What’s wrong with you lately? Brandon says you haven’t called or text him, and let’s face it, we know you hate being at home. So what gives?”

That was true. I hated being at home, but I hadn’t been there, had I?