Bound by Love

by Stephie Walls

  Gray: Hey, baby

  I sigh, this is like the 15th set of texts I’ve gotten today with him mothering me.

  Me: Hey, sweetheart

  Gray: How r u feeling?

  Me: Much better. I feel human again.

  Gray: Really?

  Me: Yes….

  Gray: U up 2 going out 2nite?

  Me: Who with?

  Gray: Me & u!

  Me: Just us??

  Gray: Yes, baby. Just us.

  Me: Absolutely!!

  Gray: Be ready around 7.30pm. 143 Bird Dog. (143 – the lazy man’s text saying I love you… you had to have a pager in high school to understand).

  Me: 143-2

  Setting my phone down, I don’t really know what to think. Every time I reach a point that I think I need to jump off the roller coaster, he does something to surprise me, restoring my faith in him. He has been wonderful the last couple of days just as doting as he was when we met. As crappy as I have felt physically, I needed his attention emotionally.

  Gray gets home around 7:15pm from work, running in the door shouting something about a quick shower as he slammed the bathroom door. He emerges about fifteen minutes later, and I swear, I fall in love with the man all over again. He has on a pair of jeans that hug his hips in the most perfect of ways, but hang loosely down his legs, a blue V-neck sweater that from where I’m sitting appears to be cashmere with a white t-shirt underneath it, and black Docs. The sweater makes his eyes glow; they’re such a radiant blue.

  The sweater is snug enough that I can see the form of his chest, but can’t quite make out just how magnificent it is, forcing me to imagine what is beneath, a secret only I hold the answer to. That sweater makes me, and every woman who will see him tonight, want to rip his clothes off to verify just how breathtaking he really is. When God was handing out forms, he gave Gray perfection. Gray has this quiet cockiness. Initially upon meeting him, he just seems warm and friendly, but as you get to know him, you realize he’s got more confidence in his little finger than most men in their entire body. But it’s not unjustified. It’s not arrogant. It’s just self-assured Gray. It absolutely lures me to him. He holds his hand out to me to help me up from the couch and whistles, “Damn, Bird Dog, you look hot.”

  His eyes roam from my head down to my toes in a slow roll. Still holding my hand, he lifts it above my head to turn me in a circle for him to admire me. I’m sure where we’re going so my outfit had been a crapshoot. Luckily, Gray is really easy to please with a white lace camisole under a completely translucent pink blouse that almost isn’t there it’s so sheer, the tightest pair of dark jeans I own with panties MIA, and my worn brown leather cowboy boots embroidered with pink flowers. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail that falls several inches past my shoulders in one perfect twist, and topped off my simple ensemble with diamond studs and natural looking make-up. At the end of my twirl, he hooks his arm around my waist dragging me to his chest. His other hand finds the curve of my ass with a quick squeeze. “Bird Dog, you little tease. You don’t have any panties on.” I can see the desire gleaming in his eyes.

  “I aim to please.” It rolls off my tongue in a seductive voice that I didn’t really know I could even pull off, with a wink at the end like I’m a practiced flirt. He tucks his nose into my neck and growls. Holy shit, I have missed him. This is the man I fell in love with, the man who makes me feel like a goddess – worshipped, revered.

  We go downtown to a little restaurant I have never heard of. The food is good, but the atmosphere is better. It is tucked away on a backstreet and seems to have been forgotten by the louder crowd hanging out on Main. We sit there for a couple hours eating and talking. He is holding my hand on top of the table with his legs crossed out to the side, completely casual, and totally into me. I never want this to end. This is my Gray, the one who makes me feel alive.

  “Do you wanna go meet some of the guys from work for a few drinks before we go home?” he asks me.

  “Sure, where are they?” It’s not really what I want to do, but I want to be included in his time out some. The only way that’s going to happen is if I make an effort to get to know his friends.

  “Topher sent me a message saying they are down at Chiefs.”

  “Sure, let’s get the check.” Gray sets his credit card down on the table and the waitress materializes, like she is at his beck and call, to take it after showing Gray the bill.

  “Are you sure, Annie? We don’t have to go. I told you we would go out tonight, just the two of us.” He is being considerate, but I can tell he really wants to go and that he wants me to go with him.

  “Yep, I’m sure, but you better promise me that I get you at home alone afterwards!”

  Signing for the check, he stands up, my hand still in his, hauling me to him. He doesn’t say anything, just looks in my eyes and rubs his thumb on my cheekbone while cupping my cheek in his hand. I lean in to his touch for just a moment before we walk out the door.

  When we walk into Chiefs, I feel like we’ve just walked into Cheers. A chorus of voices sings out Gray’s name and I see Topher sitting with a group of guys all waving us their direction. Hand in hand, we walk toward them and proceed to order drinks, effectively enjoying the evening with his friends. I’m not surprised that women are practically trying to hang off him, but I am surprised that he is introducing me to every one of them as his girlfriend and pulling me into his lap, kissing me on the forehead or the cheek as he does. Whispering in my ear, “I need to get you out of here… and into our bed.” His voice is husky against my skin, sending chills through my entire body. I turn into him, looking into his alluring eyes. He’s so tall and completely encompasses me. When he looks at me, everyone else disappears causing tunnel vision.

  Making our way through the crowd, we both get stopped by people we know, but the last person that stops us is one of the most gorgeous women I have ever seen. She looks like she stepped off the cover of Vogue. I’m stuck with two people in between Gray and myself, but he still has a tight grip on my hand. Stepping in front of him, she puts one hand on his chest the other on his hip. I can’t hear what she says to him. I feel him pulling on my arm until I’m next to him, about to lash out like the mega-jealous bitch that is raging within me. He tucks me into his side, effectively removing her hand from his hip, and says, “Ask my girlfriend. If she wants you to have my number, I’m sure she will write it down for you. Won’t you, baby?” He looks down at me completely smitten. Without waiting for a response, he starts walking out the door. That was the single hottest moment of my entire relationship with Gray. Years later, I’m sure I will look back at that and remember what he did for my self-esteem, sealing our relationship again.

  The alcohol has definitely loosened us both up, and we can’t keep our hands off each other in the truck driving home. By the time we reach the apartment and unlock the door, we are both panting with desire. Gray is unusually quiet, but steadfast in removing my clothing. I stumble a little in my effort to remove my boots and jeans, but his arm reaches out to snag me before I tumble. I have no idea how he has gotten naked in my haste to get off my own clothes.

  Suddenly, he pushes me up against the front door. It’s cold on my back causing me to wince at the frosty sensation, but it’s fleeting. Taking both of my wrists in his hands, he secures them above my head, while his other hand slides down my side, stopping at my hip. He puts just enough pressure on my stomach for me to be aware his hand is there. His gaze meets mine; I wonder briefly what he’s thinking until his eyes clear, uncovering sheer lust. Using his foot, he pushes my feet apart, and presses against me. His free hand pulls my leg around his waist as he thrusts into me.

  My head rocks back to the door causing a hollow thud. Needing to touch him, I tug my hands free, wrapping them under his arms to cup his shoulders from behind for leverage. He takes the initiative to pull my other leg around him, and then cradles my ass with his hands, holding me firmly against the door. His movement is powerful, but deliberate a
nd calculated.

  “Look at me, baby. I want to see your eyes when I’m inside you.” His voice is gravelly, immediately commanding my attention while he glides out before methodically driving back in. The sensation is so fierce I can’t keep my eyes open. “Annie, eyes!” His face is set, intense. I’ve never seen him like this, it’s as if he’s claiming me. I’m struggling to hold his stare. It’s supremely intimate. Pumping steadily into me, taking me to the cusp of where my O lies, he’s remarkably restrained. I need him to move faster, but every time I try to set my own pace, he silently refuses to give up control simply shaking his head as if to say you’re wasting your time, this is my game. With each slide of his cock into my pussy, my mind is buzzing. I need him to take me, ravage me. I want it rough. I need it rough.

  “Gray…faster, baby.” Again, he shakes his head. I’m breathless and begging, “Please, Gray, fuck me… Harder.” My forehead drops to his shoulder. I’m being released from the wall, but not his clutches. Carrying me to the kitchen table, he pulls out a chair, never breaking our contact, settling me across his lap.

  “You want control, Annie?” I just look at him like he’s speaking another language. He smacks my bare ass. Startled by the sting, I look at him, opening my mouth to saying something, but he beats me to it. “Do you want the control, Annie?” he repeats in a firm, authoritative tone. It’s like my brain has totally malfunctioned. He’s moving me up and down on his rigid cock, gripping my waist, but that’s all I can register.

  Then I feel the sting of his palm. Smack. Smack. Arching my back, I force my tits in his face; he takes one in his mouth, sucking hard. Smack. Holy shit, I love the sting that borders on pain, but lingers in pleasure. He tweaks my nipple, rolling it in his fingers, hard. It’s erotic, it’s beautiful, it’s pain, it’s shear bliss. My feet find grounding on the rungs under the chair he has us sitting in. Gaining the control that I had wanted, I start to ride his dick like it’s going to take me directly to heaven.

  My hands are woven behind his neck, my back arched, head splayed back. He pulls the tie out of my hair letting it cascade down my back. In true Gray form, he wraps it around his fist, tugging a deeper arch in my spine, thrusting my tits closer to his face. The dance seems choreographed and flawless. Our bodies hear a rhythm where there is no music, finding a melody that’s all our own. The slow, deep rock of my hips causes him to hit the perfect spot, bringing me to the peak of sexual frenzy. I hear my own moans as I cry out in pure pleasure, like an out of body experience. He matches my performance with one final plunge. Tucking me into his body, I slump my head on his shoulder. Sitting there, our breath evening out, he goes flaccid, slipping out of me. He picks me up, taking me to the bedroom, lying me down, completely wrapped up in him. I fall asleep feeling the most loved I have felt in weeks.

  Chapter Twenty-Three – Gray

  The rumor mill in this fucking DC spreads shit faster than it can even be thought up, evidenced by the fact that everyone in the facility is already talking about Topher’s newfound freedom. He and Heather split up last night. Depending on who you talk to, she either went to her Mama’s house or straight to hell. Personally, I’m not interested in hearing about Topher’s shit storm. After last night, Annie and I felt right again for the first time in weeks, and I just want to bask in my after-sex glow for a while. I don’t know what was different. Maybe it was just that we were alone and solely focused on each other for most of the night. We seemed to reconnect, and that ache that I used to feel when I was away from her is back today. I haven’t felt it in a long time. I’ve been so self-absorbed, caught up in my own indulgence, that I have completely ignored Annie and her needs. I took for granted that she would always be at home waiting for me, so I have freely played, which I know isn’t fair to her. I’ve taken advantage of her loyalty, knowing how much she loves me, knowing she won’t stray. She won’t ever leave – she’s bound to me.

  She’s been working her tail off at Waltons, getting straight A’s in school, and waiting on me. That day in Gatlinburg I broke her. I knew I did at the time, but I couldn’t stop the words before they came flying out. I had a compulsory obligation to ensure she knew that I wasn’t interested in getting married again or the commitment that leads up to it. But looking back, she hasn’t ever asked me for any of that. She’s never asked where our relationship is going, just taking each day that I give her. She simply made a comment about a chapel. I effectively took her down with one shot and we haven’t been the same since. Guarded and hurt, she’s lost the spark in her eyes that made me love her to begin with. The dull look on her face makes me think she’s using again, but I haven’t been brazen enough to ask and since I’m never home, I don’t see her do it. I’m a coward for not confronting her, but I know that if she is, she’s doing it because I made her need to numb the pain, pain that I caused with callous words that I intentionally inflicted. I saw the spark in her eyes again last night and I desperately need to see it every day.

  Topher pulls up behind me on his lift startling me out of my daze. “Hey, man, wanna get a drink tonight?” he asks me.

  “Nah, man, I need to go home to Annie tonight,” I reply.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I just haven’t been spending much time with her, and want to hang out with her.”

  “Got it. Well, let’s get together this week.” He throws his hand behind his shoulder as he pulls off.

  The day is dragging ass like it did when Annie and I first got together, and I can’t wait to get home to see her. I realize I haven’t been home after work in so long that she might have plans. She never stays out as late as I do so she’s still home when I get there, but I know she’s been hanging out with Jenny and Kris. Lynn has warned me that I need to get her away from them, yet another warning sign that my Bird Dog is using again. Lynn won’t betray Annie, but if she’s telling me to get her away from her friends, there’s a reason for it. I pull my phone out of my pocket to send her a text.

  Me: Hey, sweetheart. Whatcha doin?

  Annie: Leaving school to head to work. U?

  Me: Workin

  She doesn’t say anything else so I guess I’m going to have to move this conversation along. What the hell have I done to her? She used to eat up my attention, but now she’s reserved, waiting on me.

  Me: R u workin late?

  Annie: No. Shud b done by 5

  Me: I’ll b home around 715. Wanna go get dinner?

  Annie: I’m supposed to go to Jenny’s after work.

  Me: Oh

  Annie: Something wrong?

  Me: Yeah, but nothing u did.

  Annie: R u ok?

  Me: I will be. I know I shudnt ask, but will u cut it short w/her & meet me @ home?

  Annie: Ur scaring me, Gray. Just tell me what’s up. Don’t make me wait til 2nite.

  Me: Aww, Bird Dog. Don’t b scared. I just miss u.

  Annie: U said something was wrong…

  Me: There is. I’ve ignored u & am a POS for it.

  Annie: Ok

  Ok? What the hell does “ok” mean? Is she agreeing that I’m a piece of shit for ignoring her or that she will come home early to spend the evening with me? Geezus, I have no right to push her, but I don’t want to go home if she’s not there.

  Me: Ummm….ok? Does that mean u agree I’m a POS?

  Annie: No, Gray. It means I’ll change my plans.

  Me: Hey, Bird Dog?

  Annie: Yeah?

  Me: I luv u, baby. I’m sorry.

  She doesn’t respond, but really I don’t blame her. I haven’t responded to her for months, just kept taking what I needed. Now, somehow, I have to fix this shit. This girl is the best thing that has ever happened to me and I’ve just about completely fucked it up. Riding the high through the rest of the day, I practically maul the other guys at clock-out time to get to my time card and out the door.

  Pulling into a parking space next to Annie’s car, I can’t get out fast enough. I take the stairs two at a time, opening the do
or to my angel. She looks up from the couch as I burst through the door like someone’s chasing my ass, just smiling that sweet smile. Her eyes sparkle. Damn! Her eyes are fucking sparkling again. My girl. Without words, I take several long strides to reach her, plopping down next to her and pull her in my lap. She’s giggling and I want to keep that smile on her face.

  “Gray, baby, you stink! Eew, you’re sweaty! You need to take a shower.”

  I tickle her as she gets the last complaint out, causing her to throw her head back laughing. God, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen when she’s alive like this. She squirms out of my lap, insisting I go take a shower before touching her again. “Ten minutes tops,” I say, “and then you’re all mine.”

  True to my word, ten minutes later, I’m clean and back in the living room with just a pair of jeans on and a white t-shirt, no shoes. She’s still on the couch in jeans and a fitted Green Day concert t-shirt. I have no idea where she got all those concert tees, but they’re cute as hell on her. She’s still really thin; she hasn’t put any of the weight on that she lost months ago. Watching her, I notice how much her hair has grown since I met her. It’s almost to the middle of her back and somehow seems darker; although, I know she doesn’t dye it. It used to be a chestnut color, but is almost black now as she tucks it behind her ear. She looks so small curled up on the couch with a book in her hand. I swear the girl reads more than anyone I’ve ever met. I’m surprised she’s not studying to become a librarian. I haven’t said anything when she breaks away from her book to look up at me.

  “Hey, baby, I’m starving. What do you want to do for dinner?”

  “Do you want to go out?” She looks at the way I’m dressed, and then down at herself, and obviously determines neither of us are dressed for that.

  “I was thinking more like take-out.”

  “Chinese or pizza?” I know she’s going to pick Chinese, which isn’t my favorite, but she’s not a fan of pizza so one of us isn’t going to be happy either way.