by Lucian Bane
She let out a sob when his arms went around her, a desperate life and death grip that stole her breath. “I can’t lose him again,” he strained, his mouth on her ear.
“I’ll help you, I’ll help you, okay? You’ll see. We’ll figure this all out.”
“You’re not leaving?”
“You wish,” she whispered.
They suddenly released each other at the same moment and shuffled their feet in the blaringly awkward moment.
“Are you hungry?” he asked quickly, seeming to look for anything to do besides stand there.
“I could use a fresh coffee I think.”
He spun, nearly running to the kitchen. She limp followed, putting a hand in the front pocket of her jeans, suddenly remembering they weren’t hers. Nothing she wore was hers. She pulled out the chair at the table and sat, unsure of what they were supposed to do after the coffee. Their little exchange had him acting really weird, which she understood. She felt just as weirded out by it. Not that she minded, just… wasn’t used to seeing him be… any kind of vulnerable. Real. Human. She was more worried about how he felt in fact. She needed to make this easy for him, not awkward.
“I should probably get my own clothes,” she muttered, trying to think of something to say to break the screaming silence as he neared the end of his coffee making.
“Okay,” he said, turning and leaning on the counter. “I have money if you need any. For whatever you want. Or need.”
Wow. She lowered her gaze, smiling a little. “Thank you. That’s nice. I don’t mind working for my pay.” She jerked her eyes up. “Regular kind of work.”
He stared at her, seeming to search her gaze before he mumbled, “I knew that.”
“Right,” she said, nodding and looking around for something else to talk about. She didn’t want to talk about his past, even though she had a million questions. Just felt too soon. And yet she didn’t want to talk about the weather that was just stupid. She needed middle ground.
“I didn’t mean it,” he said.
She looked at him, standing there with his head lowered. “What didn’t you mean?”
“What I did when… Reginald left. With you.”
She stared at him not sure what he meant but thinking it was about the sex part. But what did I didn’t mean it mean? “Okay,” she said, unable to find a way to get clarification. But her mind refused to let it go unanswered. It seemed important to understand. “When you say you didn’t mean it, you mean you…”
He turned and got a coffee cup. “I mean I was doing it because Reginald asked me to.”
She sat there, staring at him as his words entered her mind, slowly coating her stomach with a residue that made her feel dirty. She looked down at her hands in her lap, fighting not to see both of them using her like a sex toy. “Right,” she whispered, not trusting her voice. “I’m used to it.” He set her coffee next to her. “Thank you,” she barely managed, willing her tears in reverse.
“He’s not used to it. He’d never done it like that,” he said, misunderstanding her.
“I wasn’t meaning that.”
“Oh,” he said, back to leaning on the counter.
She took a sip of her coffee, keeping the cup near her mouth. “Why do you think he did that?”
She caught his shrug out of the corner of her eye. “I thought he wanted me to have fun,” he said.
She nodded, staring at her coffee. “And did you? Was it fun?”
“I don’t really… think about it.”
“Well you clearly do, you mentioned it.”
He looked at her, guarded. “I just didn’t want you to think…”
“That it was more than a fuck, I know,” she said lightly, nodding. “I think you were both wrong to do that, by the way.”
“Do what?”
“Use me,” she said, her tone harder and her cup shaking. “Did either of you care about what I wanted in that? Did you care how I felt about it? If I wanted you there at all?”
He lowered his gaze after a few moments. “No. I didn’t.”
“Of course you didn’t,” she muttered. “You can’t think past your dick.”
He stared at her, his brows coming together. “I didn’t really think you minded,” he said, sounding sincere.
Because she was a whore. Right. “Well I did.”
“You didn’t seem to.”
“That’s because I’ve had a lot of practice pretending.”
“That wasn’t pretending,” he assured to which she busted out laughing. “Why would you lie about it, is the question?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, putting the cup down and standing. “The same reason I always lie, Bones.”
“And what’s that?”
“Because the truth is more than I can stomach. And I’m tired and I’m hurting and I’m going to take a hot soak and go to bed.”
She made her way to the bedroom, hearing him following. “What does that mean? Why would not faking it make it painful?”
“That’s for me to know and you to figure out,” she muttered, going to Bones’ clothes drawer. “I need something comfortable to sleep in.”
“I’m all out of lingerie.”
She turned a glare at him. “Do I look like I want some fucking lingerie?”
“It was a joke,” he said, opening a drawer and gesturing to it. “I usually sleep in thermals if I sleep in clothes.”
Images of his naked body stole her breath before she could catch it. “Thank you,” she muttered, her mind a sudden mess.
“For what?”
“For nothing,” she snapped, back to being pissed. She made her way around him and headed to the bathroom. He passed her up and went in, turning on the water. “I’ll do that,” she said when she got to the door.
“I don’t mind.”
“Well, I do.”
He finally stood, looking at her. “Why?”
“I’m not helpless. I don’t need you to. I want to do it.”
He shook his head and lowered his stupid sexy smile. “You’re full of lies tonight.”
“What’s new? Can you leave or do you plan to watch?”
The hard look he gave her sent heat clear to her toes even if it was his angry one. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said, walking past her.
“Thank you, Bones. I may need that dick of yours later tonight since you’re so good with it that I can’t pretend to not love it.”
He stood in the doorway, matching her glare. She held her breath fighting to maintain her aloof composure before he finally grabbed the door handle and pulled it shut. “You did love it,” he said, just before it closed.
She grabbed hold of the sink, sitting down on the toilet before she collapsed. And not from fatigue.
****
Bones paced in the office, fighting his dick. Her lies about not liking it, her cryptic puzzle of the faking, and her needing his dick later that night, all had him burning.
Normally he’d think she was doing it to be a tease or whore, but that wasn’t it. Something else was going on. He couldn’t be angry with her either he needed her too much still. And without his anger, he was having a hard time not thinking of all the wrong things. And it wasn’t just the absence of anger, it was her and her kindness. To him. It was… indebting. He wanted to say manipulating but he would be lying. She wasn’t like that. He knew manipulators, and she wasn’t that, not right now, not with this.
He paused and listened. He walked to the hallway, angling his head. She was mumbling something. He crept closer to the door and leaned his ear. His pulse began to hammer in his cock as his mind envisioned her in the tub. The sound of water sloshing brought more images of her wet naked body.
Anger shot through him and he banged on the door, making her scream.
“Shit!” she yelled. “What!”
“I need a shower, hurry.”
“Dammit, try knocking softer,” she complained.
“Just hurry.”
A minute
later, she whined, “Where’s that robe? It was hanging right here.”
“I’ll get it,” he said, going to the room and pulling it off the back of the door. He knocked on the bathroom and she opened it a small crack.
“I can’t get it through that.”
“Just pass the edge in.”
“Stand behind the door.”
“Geez you have to be the boss of every little thing?” She opened wider and Bones handed it in.
She snatched it, her nails raking his hand. “Oh shit,” she whispered. “Sorry.”
God, she was fucking confusing. And infuriating. And arousing.
He quickly got his clothes for a shower but he wasn’t quick enough. “Shit,” she barely said when he was leaving as she was entering. “I was trying to hurry.”
“So was I.”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.
He walked out and closed himself in the bathroom, hurrying to the shower. Once in the hot stream, he turned it slowly until it was blistering hot.
He jumped at the sudden bang, bang, bang on the door. “I left my hair tie in there, don’t lose it. Or throw it away. It’s the only one I got.”
Christ. “I won’t,” he yelled, grabbing the soap and washing up. When he got out of the shower, he spied the black elastic hair thing she must’ve been talking about on the back of the toilet. He took it and put it around his wrist and grabbed the towel, wiping the mirror. He looked at himself, angling his face left and right. You look like a fucking bear. He opened the cabinet and grabbed his razor, shaving all the excess hair he normally did every other day. Rinsing the sink and his razor, he then brushed his teeth and dressed. Throwing everything in the dirty clothes hamper, he headed to the room, raising his hand to knock. He lowered it and slid the hair thing off his wrist and put it on the door knob.
He needed to go to bed is what he needed.
The door suddenly opened. “I was thinking,” she said.
He stared at her in his flannel shirt and white thermal pants. “And?” he asked when she didn’t come out with it.
“Well… remember the night time stuff?”
He stared at her, wondering where she was going. “Kind of hard to forget.”
“Exactly.” Like he’d explained something. “You can’t just be left alone.”
His cock jerked at that conclusion. “And?”
“Well I’m not wanting to wake up to some crazy person doing stuff he doesn’t remember.”
“I get it,” he said, “and your solution?”
“Well we got handcuffs,” she muttered, raising her brows and lowering her gaze a little. She finally looked at him. “And I can keep an eye on you, wake you up if I see anything unusual.”
“You want to handcuff me to that bed and sleep with me?” he double checked, hoping she heard what he was hearing.
“Now you know I don’t mean it like that. This is to protect you from doing stuff. And me,” she added.
He’d be lying if he said he’d not thought about that very thing. “Fine,” he said. She stared at him and he stared back. “I’ll need to come in.”
“Oh, right.” She moved to the side and watched him go to the closet and get the box down, open it and shut it.
“I’m ready for bed now,” he said, tossing the chain and padlock on the bed while opening the cuffs with the key.
“That’s fine, I was headed there too.” She was trying to be flippant, but he didn’t miss how she hid other feelings. Which were what? She was nervous, but why? He was going to be the one cuffed to the bed. “Can I trust you?”
Her brows rose as she looked at him. “Me? Trust me to what?”
“To not rape me.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A laugh shot out then another. “Good one, Mister.”
He held his cuffed wrists out to her. “I’ll need you to do the rest.”
She eyed his outstretched hands then limped over. “I don’t guess you need both cuffed, right?”
“Well,” he said, eyeing her. “I’m imagining I’m not a nice person when I sleep walk.”
She seemed to realize and nodded. “Yep. Both hands then.” She gestured to the bed. “Get where you want to be.”
Bones walked over and sat down. Couldn’t believe he was allowing her to handcuff him to a bed.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He angled a look up at her.
“That we have to do this,” she said, as though reading his mind. “Like you’re some kind of werewolf.”
The joke made him chuckle inside as he reclined, putting his arms above his head. His dick jerked to life with the reminder that he’d done that exact thing earlier. With her. He looked up when she came over to secure the chain to the bed, his cock again giving him vivid memories of how she’d secured him last time. Naked, with her pussy right in his face.
She looked down at him when she snapped the padlock shut. “Oh no,” she whispered.
“What?” He watched her step back and look at his body.
“What if you need the bathroom?”
“Then I’ll wake you up.”
She considered that and nodded. “Duh. Right. And I’ll unlock you and then lock it back.”
She looked at him as though for approval. “Unless you want to get a jar for me to piss in.” That would require her to touch his cock.
“Ew no,” she whispered, making him smile. “That’s funny?”
“Maybe,” he said.
“Do you need anything before I lay down? A drink? A snack? Do you have enough pillows?”
“I’m fine,” he said, his dick keeping his body tense.
“Do you need a light?” she asked, pausing before she turned off the lamp next to the bed.
“You mean a night light?”
“It’s okay if you do, a lot of people need them, no judgment from me,” she assured with those sincere green eyes right on him.
“I like the dark. The darker the better, in fact.”
“Okay,” she said, clicking it off and climbing on the bed from the foot.
He hated to admit when he was wrong about some things, but when it came to her… he’d been wrong about many things. Particularly that she was… caring. Odd, considering her life. And he’d not been nice, either. But then he never was, usually. That was Reginald’s department.
She pulled the covers back and climbed under them. “You want covers?” she asked as she settled in.
“I don’t usually.”
“Okay,” she said.
He watched as her shadow worked to snuggle under the covers, making the bed bounce all over. “You got it?”
“Yes,” she gasped, missing his teasing. “I might squirm in my sleep,” she warned.
“Squirm?” The moonlight coming through the window picked up the blond in her hair, the paleness of her skin and the shine of her eyes now looking at him.
“Well… like move. A lot. I don’t mean anything by it.”
“Move how?” He didn’t really need to know but wanted to know what he might have to look forward to.
“Just maybe… a flop of the arm. A minor kick.”
“Are you sure it’s not you that needs restraining?”
She gave a giggled snort. “My brother used to say as much.”
Bones went quiet, thinking about that. Her brother. He’d been all but cruel about that with her. “Sorry,” he finally said.
“For what?”
“Your brother. I never told you.”
“Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “Thank you… I guess is the right thing to say.”
He still felt like shit as he considered all the mean things he’d said to her. “And I’m sorry… I took so long to tell you.”
She giggled again, and he looked at her. She got on her elbow and leaned her head on her hand. “Did that hurt?”
He stared back at her, studying the way she looked in this light. “Maybe.”
“I could make it worse you know.”
> “I’m sure you could.”
“Such a good boy, you are,” she cooed. “Soon I’ll have you trained to be the perfect gentleman.”
“I highly doubt that,” he muttered.
“You forget who you’re messing with.”
The warning came out as a light joke but to his dick it was a challenge she’d made not so long ago. His response came unbidden, the naughty side of him engaged. “No ma’am,” he said, his heart hammering in his cock. “I could never forget that.”
Her smile slowly vanished and she quickly lay down.
He watched her eyes, aimed at the ceiling, waiting in the silence to see what she’d say, if anything. He searched for the guilt he needed to shut it off. The anger. But none of it came. No matter how hard he willed it. When it was clear she wasn’t going to indulge him, it soothed him in a miserable kind of way. She’d just demonstrated her loyalty to his brother. Again.
“Goodnight Winter,” he whispered.
****
Winter. He’d called her Winter. God, what was happening? He was changing. He was different. He was becoming more and more… like Reginald. She thought about what was causing that to happen. Did it start with the love making? When he got involved? Was it growing the more they interacted?
She recalled again what she’d done with him while in those cuffs. He’d liked her punishment. At the time, she was too aroused to be mad that he did. Her heart raced as she relived it like it was happening again. She was riding his cock and kissing him. He was begging her for it, begging her to kiss him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“What?” Her heart hammered in her ears as she wondered what he meant.
“You sound… bothered about something.”
“I do? Sorry,” she gasped.
“What’s wrong?”
She lay there, biting her tongue on the standard “nothing” lie. But she didn’t want to tell the truth, either. She wasn’t even sure what that was. And yet, silence wasn’t any better.
“I’m tied up, it’s not like you need to worry about pissing me off. If you need to tell me something, now’s the time.”
She wanted to laugh at that. What should she do? Say? “I’m confused,” was the best she could do.
“About what?”
