Wanna Be Yours

by Megan Hart

  Wanna Be Yours

  Megan Hart

  Copyright © 2018 by Megan Hart

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  ISBN: 978-1-940078-59-5

  Created with Vellum

  Dedication

  Thank you, Tricia Viands Hamlett for helping me name U4ia!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Bad at Love

  Also by Megan Hart

  About the Author

  One

  It had been a long time since Madeline had tied anyone up, but there are some things the hands will not forget, even if the heart has tried.

  “The demonstration will start around seven, once everyone gets here.” Andy waved a hand toward the play space.

  With all the lights on and no music playing, the space looked stark and unwelcoming. That would change with dim lighting and a soundtrack, but for now, Madeline nodded and acquainted herself with the layout. She’d been here twice before, once to observe before deciding if she wanted to become a member. The second time, she’d also simply watched. While it lacked the extravagant décor and sheer size of The Veil and Crown, U4ia was warm and inviting, clean and well-kept, and she’d been made to feel welcome from the first moment she’d stepped through the front door.

  She wasn’t supposed to be here tonight as a demonstrator, but apparently Andy’s usual rope expert had been called out of town at the last minute, and he’d promised the group coming in that they’d be able to see someone get tied up.

  “We should have about thirty guests tonight,” Andy continued. “It’s a local writer’s conference. Most of them write romance.”

  Madeline had read a few sexy romance novels in her time, although she’d stopped believing in real-life happy-ever-afters years ago. “Terrific. I’ll just go and make sure I have everything I need and get myself set up. When will my partner be here?”

  Andy glanced toward the door. “He texted to say he’s running a little late, but he’ll be here in time.”

  Madeline had never met Eric Garcia, and she was less than thrilled at the idea of him sliding in at the last minute, but she could hardly complain. He wasn’t hers to command. She was going to tie him up to show a group of writers interested in BDSM how it was done, and that was all. If, in fact, he did arrive late or didn’t show up at all, it wasn’t anything for her to worry about.

  “I’ll send him over to you when he gets here. And Madeline, really, thank you so much again for stepping in. Rope work was the most requested scene for tonight. When I found out Kurt couldn’t make it, I was pretty stuck.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Madeline told him with a small smile.

  Andy, a tall, lean giant of a man, gave her a deferential nod and took his leave to help the other demonstrators. He paused to kneel as he passed his lady Catriona, kissing her boots quickly. She acknowledged him with a stroke of her hand over his head, but other than that, barely looked at him as she continued her conversation. Madeline pressed her lips together against a giddy grin at the sight.

  God, it had been so damned long.

  She made her way through the large, open area toward the section that had been set aside for rope play. Throughout the room, several stations had been set up to display fire work, hot wax, knife play, and of course the St. Andrew’s Cross and various types of other bondage equipment. A slow warmth uncurled low in her belly as Madeline checked out the equipment that had been laid out for her.

  Long coils of rope. Soft hemp. Brightly colored nylon. She ran her fingers over the different sorts. The warmth in her belly got hotter and filtered up through her body to her throat and higher, to her cheeks. She put both hands flat on the table and took a deep breath.

  Carefully, she ran a length of nylon rope through her fingers, testing it. She tried a few experimental knots to remind herself of how the rope worked, how it felt, how it would lay against skin. Above her, several heavy-duty hooks and eyebolts had been screwed into the ceiling beams. She’d never been one for suspension work, preferring instead to focus on intricate patterns of cord and knots. She wouldn’t be attempting to hang up her partner tonight, but she liked that the space was set up for it.

  She liked almost everything about U4ia, and that was a comfort. She liked Andy and Catriona, and she liked the few other club members she’d met so far. It would be good to have a place where she could feel like herself again. She’d spent the past ten or so years moving, never staying in one location more than a year or two, and although she’d always lived in one of her own houses wherever she landed, none of them had felt like home.

  Her last house had been in Greece, a cottage overlooking the ocean. Small compared to the other houses she owned, but it had been her favorite. She’d left it only because her mother’s great-aunt had passed away. Auntie Ethel had been living in a nursing home in New York state here in America, and Madeline had been her sole surviving heir. The estate had been small and swiftly settled, but once he’d learned she was in the country and a short plane ride from him, her dear friend Alex Kennedy had insisted she come to stay with him and his wife Olivia. The two of them had moved to Dayton, Ohio, a few years ago so they could be closer to his family.

  “But not too close,” he’d told her with the grin that had always turned the heads of men and women both. “Come stay with us, Mistress Kobayashi. It’ll be good to see you again.”

  She’d laughed and scolded him about calling her Mistress. They’d been friends for ages and had been there for each other in some dark times. Nothing romantic had ever happened, certainly not of the sort that would require him to call her Mistress, but it had been a long-time joke between them. Alex knew her better than almost anyone ever had. Although circumstances had taken them out of each other’s orbits, whenever they did connect it was as if no time had passed.

  Of course she had come to visit…and so far, she had not yet managed to leave. Olivia had helped her find a charming forties-built Cape Cod with arched doorways and built-in cabinets and a few hidden rooms that probably had never been used for nefarious purposes, but which had been fun to speculate about. It had a lovely bedroom for her and several other guest rooms that would do for Kenji and Mitsoku. Her children were adults now, living their own lives with careers and partners, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t make a place for them, wherever she made a home. Madeline had written the check for the precious little house without too much thought. It would would do her some good to live in the States for a while. Although Ohio was far away from where she’d grown up in Seattle, there was still a familiarity about the Midwestern state she hadn’t expected, but enjoyed.

  Madeline had been used to moving to new places, knowing nobody, but somehow settling in Dayton, where she had some friends, had left her more restless than usual. She’d sought out U4ia based on recommendations from friends of friends of friends. Those of the kink world did have a way of looking out for each other, and it would be the fastest way she could think of to become part of a community. She wanted that, she’d decided. To belong to something again, even
if she had no interest in belonging to someone…or having someone belong to her.

  When the lights dimmed, she looked up in surprise and shook herself out of her reverie. The next moment, music thrummed through the speakers. The last time she’d been here, the soundtrack had been industrial, hard rock, techno, all played loud. Tonight, in deference to the guests who’d be asking questions, the music was low and voluptuous. She recognized one of her favorites, The Glitch Mob, and she smiled again. Their slow, sensual electronic music would be perfect for what she was planning.

  She…was…happy, Madeline thought with something like wonder. She was happy to be here. Happy to be working with the rope. Happy to answer questions from curious onlookers who may or may not actually put their newfound knowledge to use. Maybe they would only ever write about it and never actually do it, but that was all right, as long as she could help them do it with accuracy and sensitivity.

  The distinct difference between this sense of gratification and anticipation and the blank, empty way she’d felt for such a long time was so vast that her hands trembled. She clenched them, her neatly trimmed nails biting into her palms. Hot tears spiked her eyes. She swiped at them angrily.

  She would not think of him. She would not give even his memory the honor of her emotions. She was in a new place. A new life. She was going to embrace all of this and put the past behind her, all of it. All of him.

  “Hi, excuse me. Ms. Kobayashi?”

  Madeline straightened her back and shoulders, standing up to her full height of just past five feet, three inches at the sound of the low male voice from behind her. She turned. The tall man with dark shaggy hair, dark eyes, and a lanky form held out his hand.

  “I’m Eric.”

  “Dr. Garcia. You made it.” She took his hand, big and warm, and squeezed it. Madeline cleared her throat and lifted her chin, not wanting to give him any hints at all that she’d been struggling not to burst into sobs only moments ago. This was not the time nor the place for her to give in to emotions and memories.

  Eric nodded, his expression serious. “I’m sorry about that. I got tied up.”

  She burst into laughter, then chuckled again at his confused expression. “You weren’t making a joke?”

  “No, I —” He laughed then, too, and shook his head. “Wow. Yeah, I guess I walked right into that one.”

  With that laughter between them, the awkwardness that might have made this situation difficult faded at once. She eyed him up and down, checking out the dark blue jeans and black concert tee-shirt. She didn’t recognize the name of the band, but the shirt fit him flawlessly. Eric was a good foot taller than Madeline, not that it would matter when he was on his knees.

  She shivered at the image of it, that big man on the floor in front of her with his head bent, hands behind him. She met his eyes, searching them for something she wasn’t sure she wanted to see. Eric stared back at her, expression intense. Gaze steady.

  “Are you ready for me?” His polite question sounded more like a proposition in his low and gravelly tone.

  “No, I don’t think so,” she told him, “but let’s see what happens.”

  Two

  Andy and Catriona had started offering the monthly demonstration nights a few months ago, to non-members and newbies interested in learning about the club and also the scene in general. Eric had always considered his participation as a way to give back to the community that had welcomed him so completely when he was an uncertain and clueless newbie. Also, he’d been single for the past six months or so. Play nights at the club were the only time he got any action at all, and although the demonstrations weren’t ever particularly sexy, something was better than nothing.

  He studied his partner for tonight as she leaned against the table holding the selection of rope. She wore her hair, so black it glinted blue, in a low twist at the base of her neck. Silver streaked her temples, and he guessed she was in her early forties, maybe a couple years older than him. Her narrow eyes looked dark, but not brown. Gray, maybe. He was staring too hard, trying to figure it out, and he looked away.

  “Have you done many of these demonstrations?” Madeline Kobayashi’s voice was low and melodious, with a hint of an accent he couldn’t name.

  “Yep. You?”

  “No. I’ve only just joined U4ia, and it’s been a number of years since I belonged to any sort of club.”

  “You’ve belonged before, though? To a club like this?”

  Eric’s last relationship had ended six months before. The woman had been okay with some minorly kinky things in the bedroom, a little role play, some bondage, but nothing full time and definitely only in private. It wasn’t that he wanted to be led around on a leash while grocery shopping or anything, but his desire to submit and serve permeated every aspect of a long-term relationship. She hadn’t been able to handle it, and he hadn’t wanted to go without it. Their breakup had been amicable, reinforcing Eric’s decision to be true to himself and not settle.

  “A long time ago. When I lived in Tokyo, I was part of an exclusive private club. The sort you’ve perhaps seen in films. All black leather and red velvet. Very posh. Very pretentious. Very expensive.” Madeline gave a small laugh and ducked her head before looking up at him. “I much prefer this space. It feels more accessible. At The Veil and Crown, we didn’t offer any education nights like this. I think it’s a lovely idea.”

  “Tokyo. Wow. Is that where you’re from?”

  “I was born in Seattle. I haven’t been to Tokyo for many years.” She paused and pressed her lips together as she touched them with her fingertips, hiding a smile. “Nor, I am embarrassed to admit, have I played with rope in some long time. I’m a little nervous.”

  She was endearing. He grinned, hoping to set her at ease. “I’ll be gentle with you.”

  Madeline tilted her head to look him over, and the frank assessment in her gaze sent a spear of arousal right to his gut. He hadn’t expected that, but he was glad for it. Kurt liked tying people up and Eric liked being tied up, and in the absence of anyone else with the same kink, both had agreed to work together for the sake of the demonstrations. Both of them were straight, though, with no attraction between them. It never made much of a difference in how they performed, but if there was a choice between getting tied up by someone who also got him hot…well, who could blame Eric if he preferred getting at least a little turned on?

  “You’re funny,” she said in that delicious voice. Like butterscotch. Like whiskey.

  “Is that bad?”

  “Not at all. I like a good sense of humor. This needn’t be so serious, you know? All of this.” She gestured at the room, taking it all in before looking back at him. “It’s all better when it’s fun, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, absolutely.”

  Madeline smiled. “So. Let’s have some fun, then. Shall we?”

  Eric glanced at his watch. He’d been running late, held over on a shift he’d picked up last minute at the hospital. They had about fifteen minutes before the guests were due to start arriving, but that was all right. He didn’t need much time to get ready. Andy had assured him that Madeline knew what she was doing with the ropes, and there wasn’t going to be any suspension tonight. They didn’t really need to talk about safe words or anything, but he did want to make sure he was following all the etiquette.

  “What should I call you?” he asked.

  Madeline hadn’t moved from her leaning position, but now she straightened and looked faintly surprised. “You should call me Madeline. That’s my name. Never Maddy,” she added, with an off-handed carelessness that wasn’t stern but sounded as though it could be.

  “Oh.” Eric pondered this. “I thought maybe you’d prefer something else.”

  “A title?” She seemed amused but thoughtful.

  “Yeah.” He used his chin to gesture toward the room. “I mean, most people here tonight will be using titles. The guests kind of like it or expect it, I think.”

  She put her hands on
her hips to survey the room. “Right, of course. They have expectations. Do you?”

  Her voice had gone a little husky. His body responded. Eric looked at the coils of rope on display, and a fresh tingle of arousal filtered through him. It had been way too long since anyone had pressed any of these buttons.

  “Everyone has expectations,” he said.

  Madeline smiled. “Absolutely. Well, mine do not include demanding a formal title of address from anyone but my own partner. So, please just call me Madeline.”

  The way she said it gave him pause, but he had to ask. “Do you have…a partner?”

  “No.” Her answer was short, succinct and brooked no further questions.

  Intrigued, Eric took a step closer, glancing toward the door. “It’s almost time. How do you want me?”

  “As naked as you feel comfortable being,” she told him.

  Her smile turned him inside out. Eric swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat and shifted at the sudden echoing tightness in his jeans. Madeline turned toward the table, and Eric pulled his shirt off over his head. He tucked it into his bag, then toed off his shoes. He shucked out of his jeans and socks, leaving on only a pair of tight boxer briefs.

  Suddenly, he wished he’d been less indulgent with the hot wings and beer, more diligent about working out.

  He cleared his throat. “This okay?”

  Madeline turned, a length of red, black, and yellow nylon rope in one hand. She blinked rapidly, her lips parting. “Oh. Yes.”

  Tension curled between them, dispersed almost immediately by Andy’s arrival. The big man clapped a hand briefly on Eric’s bare shoulder. He nodded at Madeline.