His To Shatter (18 page)

“He wants me to come to his house,” I said,
still having trouble believing that he’d actually called.

“That’s great!” Ashlee said. “He probably
wants to explain himself.”

“Maybe,” I said, “Or maybe he just wants to
end it in person.”

“Do you think a man like that would take the
time to let every one-night-stand down easily?” Dara said. “Just
take this as an indication that he cares about you.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said. “God, I hope
you’re right.”

“We’ll get out of your hair,” Ashlee said,
giving me a quick, strong hug, “You call us the second you get
home, OK?”

“I will,” I promised, giving Dara a squeeze
as well.

“Everything will be OK,” she whispered in my
ear. “One way or another.”

“One way or another,” I agreed.

Alone once more, I tried to wrestle with my
conflicting thoughts. One the one hand, I was thrilled that Girard
had called. But I had no idea what it was he wanted to talk to me
about. Whatever it was, this was a whole other level of commitment
for me. I didn’t know if I was capable of talking to a man about a
relationship, any kind of relationship. I certainly didn’t have
much experience. But maybe it was better that way. We wouldn’t play
any games with each other, or try to be coy about our feelings. At
least, I wouldn’t. And I got the sense that Girard wouldn’t waste
his time toying around with a girl for no reason.

As I rolled possible outcomes around in my
head, I heard a car approach my apartment building. One peek down
at the street confirmed that my town car had arrived. I gathered my
things and headed out to the car. The driver opened the door for me
and took off toward Girard’s house. It wasn’t until we were
speeding through the city that I realized that I hadn’t changed
clothes since I saw him last. I let out a little groan and smacked
my head against the window.
Typical me
.

* * * * *

Chapter Sixteen

* * * * *

We arrived at Girard’s home in no time at
all, and I found myself wishing that we could take another lap
around the city before we went inside. My entire body was trembling
with nerves as I made my way up the front steps and knocked
tentatively on the door. It swung open the minute my hand fell
away, revealing Girard once more. His beautiful face was knotted
with anxiety and concern, and it broke my heart to see him in any
kind of distress.

“Come inside,” he said, ushering me through
the door. The house was dark, save for the kitchen. I made my way
forward; it was so hard to believe that I had been there only that
morning. As I stepped onto the tiles, a crunching sound made me
look down. A wine bottle lay shattered at my feet, the red puddle
spreading out across the floor. I looked at Girard, confused. “I
was just cleaning up,” he said apologetically. “I had to destroy my
stock completely.”

“But...why?” I asked.

“Because, Madison, when I arrived home from
the office and realized the bind we’ve gotten ourselves into, I
wanted nothing more than to drink myself into oblivion.”

“Girard,” I said, taking a step toward him,
“I don’t understand...”

“I know that I hurt you this morning,” he
said, leaning back against the wall. “I knew that I was hurting you
as I did it. And there was nothing I could do to stop myself. I’m a
monster when it comes to women, Madison.”

His words weren’t making any sense to me. Was
this really what he thought? “Girard, last night was the most
amazing night of my life,” I insisted.

“What?” he said, genuinely surprised.

“I’ve never been able to trust somebody like
that,” I said.

“And I repaid you by dismissing you the next
morning,” he said bitterly. “I’m not meant to be in a relationship,
Madison. And I can tell that a relationship is what you want. Every
woman I’ve ever loved has been irreparably hurt. How could I ever
put you through that?”

“You don’t have to,” I said. “You can’t hurt
me.”

“Oh, Madison,” he said sadly, “I wish that
were true.”

“Listen to me” I said, anger boiling beneath
my desperation, “You haven’t known me for very long, Girard, but
let me tell you something about myself. I am a survivor. I am
stronger than you can possibly imagine. I’m not some precious
flower that you need to protect or defend. I am an independent,
autonomous woman. You might hurt me, that’s fair. But I’ll always
bounce back. You won’t break me. You
can’t
break me.”

He looked at me for a long, suspended moment.
His deep, dark eyes bore through me, as though he were probing for
my very soul. I drew myself up before him, daring him to counter my
claim. I’d spoken the truth, after all. There wasn’t a man alive
who could really hurt me for good. At least, there hadn’t been
yet.

“Have you thought what it would look like?”
Girard whispered.

“What?” I asked.

“You and me, together,” he said. “You, on the
arm of a French millionaire. You, ten years younger than I, living
in my home. You know what people will say about you, don’t
you?”

“They can say whatever they want,” I said,
“Girard, please, just tell me what you want. Tell me what’s going
on between us. You’re saying that us being together is impossible,
but I know you don’t want that to be true. I know that you want me
as much as I want you.”

“How much do you want me, Madison?” he asked.
“Enough to give up your life as you know it?”

“Enough to share my life with you,” I said.
“Enough to include you in my life.”

“You’re not afraid that I’ll subsume you?” he
asked.

“What?” I said, “No. Of course not.”

“No?” he asked.

“No!” I said, “Is that what you were afraid I
was thinking? That you were trying to control my entire life?”

“That has been the...common complaint,” he
said. I was amazed to see him blush. “Every woman I’ve ever been
with has grown convinced, very quickly, that I attempt to conquer
them. Make them mine, or even more accurately, make them some part
of me, exclusively.”

“And is that actually what you want?” I
challenged him, taking a step closer to him. “Do you want a woman
who will erase her identity to rewrite herself as your own?”

“Of course not!” he said harshly, “I want a
woman who will remain her own person, who is strong enough to hold
her ground in a relationship with me. I don’t want a trophy wife. I
want someone who can place herself entirely in my hands, it’s true.
But I don’t want someone to submit and, in doing so, become
nothing. I want to dominate so that I can worship. I want to know
the person I love and admire completely, I want to have that
control. But there aren’t many women in the world who can submit
entirely and still be true to themselves.”

“And tell me, Girard,” I said, “Do you think
that I’m one of those women?”

“I...” he started.

“Tell me the truth. Last night...Didn’t I
show you that I could be entirely in your control and yet entirely
myself?” I demanded. “I know that I did. And you know it too.”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I won’t deny it.”

“It scares you,” I said, suddenly realizing.
“You’ve never been with a woman who could give you what you truly
wanted.”

His silence was confirmation enough. I stared
at him, astonished. Girard had probably had lovers by the score,
but in this sense he was as inexperienced as I was. I felt tears
spring to my eyes as a look of understanding washed into Girard’s
eyes.

“Dear god...” he said, “You’re right. You’re
absolutely right.”

“I know,” I said, “I know.”

He reached for my hands and pulled me to him,
enveloping me in an embrace. The tears poured down my cheeks as I
collapsed into him, staining his shirtfront. I couldn’t believe
that this man, the most gorgeous and powerful person I’d ever met,
had shared my overwhelming fear of embracing a connection as great
as ours. He’d been as baffled as I was. We were on the same page,
after all. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was so,
so happy.

“Madison,” he said, kissing my hair, “This
could be the ruin of us both, if it goes wrong.”

“I know,” I said, wrapping my arms around
him. “I don’t care.”

“This is new to me,” he said, tilting my face
up to his. “I don’t know how to believe it, if I’m speaking
honestly. How can I know, definitively, that you are all that you
say? That we’re as perfect for each other as we both want to
be?”

“Girard,” I said, “I’ll do anything. Anything
in the world to show you how serious I am. I want to make this work
with you. I have to. Whatever will make you trust me the way that I
trust you, I am willing to do. Name it.”

“I would rather...show you,” he said
softly.

The breath caught in my throat as I began to
understand his meaning. I took a deep breath and said, “Show me,
then. Show me what you want.”

“Be careful,” he said, his eyes shining with
blooming desire, “What I want is not something that everyone can
stand.”

“And what’s that?” I asked, feeling my body
begin to cry out for his.

“I want total submission,” he said. “And I
don’t mean in life. That’s the mistake that people always make.
They assume that submission means surrender. But surrender is
passive. It’s resigned. I don’t want that. I want someone who can
open themselves to me fully. Wholly. Is that what you want?”

“Girard,” I said, “Nothing would make me
happier.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Even
though I’m just some old fool in love with a girl who is far too
good for me?”

I smiled back at him, laying my hands on his
shoulders. “Even though,” I said.

“You need to promise that you’ll tell me to
stop, if you feel uncomfortable,” he said.

“I will,” I promised. “I’ll say ‘stop’.”

“No...No, we need a clearer signal than
that,” he insisted. “You’ll be surprised, Madison, how the word
‘stop’ will take on a whole new meaning when you’re with me.”

My stomach turned over at his words. For a
moment, a cold stab of apprehension tore through my body. My
rational mind caught up with my heart as we stood there, pressed
against each other in the kitchen. Was I actually ready to give
myself over to Girard completely? I wanted him, to be sure, but I
was inexperienced in the bedroom, and I still lacked confidence.
What if I wasn’t...capable? What if I wasn’t good enough?

But as I looked into Girard’s eyes, I knew
that I couldn’t let any insecurities come between us. I was good
enough. I deserved to be cared for in exactly the way that I
wanted. And my body was telling me all the truths I needed to know.
I ached to submit to him. I remembered those moments of pain the
night before, the way they’d mixed so enticingly with pleasure. I
couldn’t imagine what else Girard might have in store for me, but I
was more than eager to figure it out.

“Tolstoy,” I said.

“Excuse me?” Girard said.

“That will be the word we use,” I said,
grinning.

Girard let out a bark of laughter. “That
might be the least sexy safe word I’ve ever heard,” he said. It was
so wonderful to see him smiling again.

“That’s the point,” I said, “If I say
‘Tolstoy’ in the middle of...you know...you’ll have no choice but
to stop, right?”

“That’s right,” he said, placing his strong
hands on the small of my back and pulling me tightly against him. I
could feel his need pressing against my thigh, and a wave of desire
crashed over me. I’d been keeping my lust at bay since we parted,
knowing that it would take me over should I even peek at it. But
here he was...ready and wanting me. All of me.

“Let me show you, Girard,” I whispered,
taking his beautiful face in my hands, “Let me show you just how
good I can be.”

His jaw tightened, and that swell against my
leg grew even harder. “Will you obey me?” he asked, in a sinfully
sexy growl.

“Every word,” I promised. “I’m yours to
command.”

I’d never spoken to anyone like this before.
I could never have imagined wanting somebody so much. But my desire
for Girard outweighed all rational thought. All I knew in that
moment was that I wanted to prove how much I cared about him. And
more than that, I wanted him to take control of me. I wanted to be
caught up in him and only him. I wanted him to dominate me,
completely.

As my thoughts spun in a dizzying array, I
leaned in to kiss Girard. But a strong hand shot up and wrapped
around my throat before I could. I looked at him, amazed and
unaccountably excited. He tightened his grip just a hair, just
tight enough to make a point.

“No,” he said, “You’re mine tonight, Madison.
You follow my lead. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” I said softly, “Understood.”

“Good,” he said, releasing my throat, “That’s
what I hoped you would say.”

Suddenly, I felt my body spinning around in
this hands. My back slammed hard against the wall, and Girard
pinned me there, holding my hands over my head. I gasped as his
mouth came down on the skin of my throat. He kissed me wildly, and
the sharp sting of his teeth as he bit into me set my every nerve
on fire. I arched my back, leaning into his advances. But no sooner
had I shifted than he pushed me roughly back against the wall
again, penning me in with his knee.

“Don’t move,” he growled, “This is how I want
you.”

I bit my tongue and looked into his
smoldering eyes. Keeping my hands up with one strong hand, Girard
brought the other to the front of my dress. He bunched up the thin
cotton in his fist and gave a powerful tug. The front of my dress
ripped at his forceful touch, and my jaw fell open as the garment
came away. My heaving chest was exposed to him, my lacy bra on full
display. Holding me in place with his hips, he ripped my dress
clean down the middle.