“I won’t do anything of the sort.” He circled around to her side and sat down beside her. “You know that, don’t you?” he asked, touching his knuckles to her cheek. “I would never do anything like that.”
“Okay…”
“Trust me?”
“Yes…”
“Right then, let’s test that theory,” Crispin said, walking towards the box. “Shall we?”
Chapter 21
With a dramatic sigh, he crouched down by the box once again. He then purposely took his time, rifling through its contents. He took wicked pleasure in watching her worried expression at the sounds of the items in question being rattling about in the box.
“Please, Crispin, I don’t like those things,” she pleaded miserably.
“You didn’t mind the feather so much, did you?” He barely contained his smile.
“Well, no, but…”
“I could just use this little whip,” he said, slapping into his palm, watching her immediately tense at the sound. “It would be a most appropriate punishment for a little trespasser like you.” He stood up and methodically stalked towards the bed, slapping it repeatedly on his palm. Thwap… thwap… thwap… “What do you think?”
“No!” she cried, quivering everywhere, pulling at her hand restraints. “I’ll tell Kelley!”
“Kelley can’t help you,” he teased wickedly.
He sat down by her side then, and simply watched her. She was scared shitless. It nearly broke him.
He could be such a cruel bastard when he wanted to be. Life hadn’t exactly been kind to him. He could honestly admit that there had been times in the past when he could have gone either way.
Lucky for both of them, those dark moments no longer haunted him, not since coming to reside at the House of Goths, and especially now since Becky had darkened their doorstep.
Becky didn’t know what to think anymore. This had gone far enough. How dare he toy with her like this!
What was he up to? Why was just sitting there? And what of that horrible whip? Would he dare use it on her?
“Crispin?”
“Right here.” He chuckled.
“Okay…”
“Now tell me, dormouse? How many lashes do you deserve?”
“None! Don’t you dare.”
“You deserve at least half a dozen.” He snickered. Thwap! He smacked his palm once again. “For sneaking around, going through my personal items, like a common thief.” Thwap, thwap, thwap.
Placing the tip of the whip against her cheek, he then ever so lightly gave it the gentlest of taps. “Bad girl…”
She jumped and let out an involuntary squeak, only to feel him laugh so hard that the bed shook. Coming to the realization that her punishment had come to an abrupt and very anti-climactic end, Becky sighed with relief.
He couldn’t help but continue to laugh as he chucked the silly whip aside. He then leaned over, flipped up the edge of the sleeping mask, and looked her in the eye. “Oh, Becky, you crack me up, you know that?”
Now he was really pissing her off, the miserable Goth. “Are you done yet?” she said, pouting at him. “I’m getting hungry.”
“Almost done,” he said, fixing the mask back over her eyes. “Just one last test of your trust.”
“But why?” she lamented.
“Think of it as payback for snooping around my room,” he snarked, gathering the feather and whip, and placing them back into the box. He then looked her over once more before leaving the room, making a show of stomping his feet as he descended the stairs.
“Where are you going? Hey, come back here!” Becky fought to free herself but it was no use. “Crispin!” Was he just going to leave her there all afternoon, strapped to his bed? Realizing that he very well could, she started shouting for him.
“Crispin! Crispin!”
“Right here…”
She startled not having heard his stealthy return. When he sat back down on the bed, she couldn’t help but smell something delicious.
Crispin could barely contain his laughter, watching her nose twitch, the crafty little dormouse. He then pulled the fries out of the paper bag and dipped one with ketchup.
Becky couldn’t help but frown. He was going to eat in front of her and let her starve! How cruel!
“Now then, do you still trust me?” He brought the fry to just under her nose and waved it around.
“Is that what I think it is?” Becky asked, licking her lips in anticipation. He smiled as he plunked its tip to her tongue.
“Trust me?”
“Yes, Crispin, you know I do.” She laughed, chomping down on it as he slowly fed it to her. “Mmm… so good.”
Crispin quirked an eyebrow. “That’s what she said.” He laughed as he plopped another fry in her mouth.
“Oh, you!”
In a matter of seconds, Crispin had her freed of all restraints. He even helped her to sit up next to him. “Now then, shall we go downstairs, and have the rest of our lunch where you won’t get crumbs all over my bed?”
“I’m sorry, Crispin, for snooping.”
“Never mind. Just don’t ever do it again or I might just have to increase your punishment.”
“I still don’t understand why you would have all those things.” She frowned, looking from him to the dreaded black box.
Taking a deep breath, Crispin gathered the handcuffs and silk ties onto his lap. “These are all I ever really need. Those other things came along as part of the kit. I have no interest in them. Although now, I might have to revisit the feather.” He smiled, watching her blush.
“Why do you need these?” she asked, lightly stroking the silk ties.
“I like being in control,” he said simply.
She frowned at that, still rather confused.
“What is it? Ask me.”
“Aren’t you already in control by default? By being a man?”
As innocent as she was, Crispin realized then that she was definitely not at all naive. “Far from it, Becky,” he added with a wistful sigh. “Far from it…”
Chapter 22
“So, what you’re saying is that you’re excited,” Kell quipped, tapping Becky under the chin. Ever since he got home that afternoon, she’d been fluttering around him like a dizzy butterfly. He hadn’t seen her this happy in days, and it did his heart a world of good.
“I can’t help but be excited!” She giggled, clapping her hands together, watching as the Goths loaded the van up with their equipment. It was all so very interesting. So many parts and pieces. She was so looking forward to getting out tonight.
Watching her handsome Goths perform… could there be anything more exhilarating?
“Watch yourself, dormouse,” Crispin said, sidestepping her with a guitar case in his hands.
“Sorry…”
“Just stand back a bit, Becky,” Dorian reminded her. “Wouldn’t want to clip you.”
“All right, that’s the last of it,” Kell said, closing up the garage. “Everyone into the van.” Coming at her, he picked Becky up, spun her around, and pretended to toss her into the back.
“Kelley!” Becky squealed with delight.
“Oops, sorry, thought you were one of our props.” He laughed, righting her onto her feet.
Dorian hopped in behind the steering wheel. Circling around the back of the van, Crispin paused and glanced at Becky, giving her the once over.
“What?” She glanced at herself. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Seeing him quirk a curious eyebrow, Kell wondered the same thing. Other than the fact that she looked adorable in her little jersey dress, black tights, suede ankle booties on her feet, he didn’t quite understand the reason behind Crispin’s prolonged perusal.
“Best be making sure you’ve got proper ID,” Crispin suggested, looking her over once more.
“Shit, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Kell said with a smile. It suddenly dawned on him that Becky didn’t look a day over sixteen. “You do have ID, don’t yo
u, love?”
“I’m nineteen! I’m of legal age!” she stated with an indignant frown.
“We know that,” Kell said with a sigh of relief. “But you still need ID.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Becky said, following the Goth back into the house to retrieve her age of majority card.
On the drive over to the college bar where they were playing that night, Becky couldn’t help but be super excited. The guys all looked so hot. They were handsome devils on a regular day, but tonight they looked incredible. Not only did they look awesome, they smelled yummy too, all wrapped up into an intoxicating blend of warm leather and black liquorice.
Sitting next her, Kelley, in his pseudo-military inspired Gothness was nothing short of stunning. The fact that he was in an extra affectionate mood, was an added bonus of pure joy as far as Becky was concerned.
“So, what do think, eh?” he said, giving her knee a playful, lingering squeeze.
“About what?” She giggled, staring at his great big hand on her knee.
“The big event!”
“Right, we’ll be lucky if we make it through the first set,” Crispin grumbled.
“Oh, suck it up, man.” Dorian laughed.
“Well, I’ll cheer for you,” Becky said, reaching forward and placing her hand on Crispin’s shoulder.
“Wonderful,” he grumbled, “We have ourselves a cheerleader.”
“Just as long as you cheer loudest for me,” Kell said, drawing her back, and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
Kell couldn’t help himself. He was in an awesome mood. No doubt about it. After she’d shared her feelings with him that morning, he’d taken it all to heart.
He hadn’t meant to be neglectful of her. He had thought he was doing her a favour by not encouraging her attachment to him. But what the fuck was the point in that? In the end, they both ended up losing out. As far as he was concerned, she was his little Becky.
On the way home earlier, he’d made up his mind to keep a closer eye on her, even if at a respectable distance. If all she wanted was a little attention, he would be more than happy to give her that. Perhaps then she wouldn’t feel the need to frown about the house, pining after that miserable prick, Jax.
“Right then, you sit right here and watch our stuff,” Kell said, tucking Becky into the booth closest to the stage.
“Oh, all right,” she said absently looking over his shoulder, watching Dorian and Crispin set themselves up.
“What can I get you to drink?” He leaned in close to her, brushing her hair away from her face. God help him, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her tonight, let alone his hands.
“Oh, a ginger ale, I guess.” She reached for her wallet.
“It’s on me, love.” He chuckled, giving his head a shake. “One ginger ale, on its way.” He turned and made his way towards the bar.
What an interesting place, Becky observed. Located near the university, the bar was definitely a hangout for students. It had a distinct Irish pub influence about it. The smell of beer and chips wafted heavily in the air. Noticing the arrival of a few Goths, she realized that they must be here to see her guys.
On that note, Becky glanced back towards the stage and watched as Dorian and Crispin set up a black, vinyl banner.
“Here you go, one sparkling ginger ale.” Kell placed the drink in front of her. Taking a quick break, Dorian and Crispin joined them at the booth. Seeing her focused so intently on the stage, he couldn’t help but ask, “What are you staring at?”
“I’m just trying to figure out what that means.” She frowned, pointing at the banner. “The Kingston Quartet?”
“Love, that’s our band’s name.” Kell couldn’t help but crack a smile.
“But there’s only three of you.”
“Ain’t that ironic?” Crispin snarked, taking a sip of her drink. “What the fuck is this, ginger ale? Who the fuck drinks ginger ale?”
Becky frowned at him. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s what the lady ordered,” Kell sighed, sliding it back to Becky.
“Well, she can damn well keep it.” Crispin made a face and left for the bar.
The prickly Goth was back! Becky couldn’t help but wonder about him. After the day they’d had together, she was even more perplexed. Following that fiasco with the dreaded black box, they’d had the best time, kicking back, watching movies. Here he was all snarky and miserable again.
“Never mind, eh,” Dorian said. “Just enjoy the show, Becky.”
“Yeah, he’s a miserable bastard at times, but he means well,” Kell added.
“Kind of like you in a way, Kell,” Dorian teased, giving Becky a conspiring wink before heading back to the stage.
“Fuck off, you,” Kell scoffed, before sliding into the booth beside Becky. He watched her fighting back a giggle. “You agree with him, don’t you?”
“Well, he’s not far off…”
“What do you know about it?” he purred, losing himself in her quirky smile. It’s a good thing they were in a public place at that moment. He was having the hardest time fighting the urge to kiss the living daylights out of her. As it was, he couldn’t keep his hand off her lovely little knee.
Suddenly the strapping Goth was all hands. Becky wasn’t complaining, that’s for sure. In fact, she was loving every minute of his undivided attention.
“All I know is that you’re needed on stage right now,” she said, biting her lip, torn between having him near or watching him play that sexy ass bass of his.
The bar was now very crowded, and Crispin and Dorian had both taken their places. All that was missing from the stage was Kelley.
“You just stay right here,” he whispered in her ear. “Where I can see you.”
“I might have to get up and walk around to stretch my legs.”
He couldn’t stop himself if he wanted to. “I’ll give you something to stretch your legs around,” he growled, nipping at her earlobe.
“Kelley?” She gasped, caught off guard. She instinctively leaned into his steely warmth, delighting in her body’s reaction to his suggestive phrasing.
Without so much as another word, the lusty Goth slipped out of the booth, heading towards the stage with a cat-like swagger in his step.
Chapter 23
Stay right here? But how in the world was she supposed to stay put when all she really wanted to do was hug that stage! It only took a minute of watching Kelley pound away on that sexy black bass before Becky abandoned the booth.
Coupled with Crispin’s beautiful voice and hypnotic stage presence, she couldn’t help but be drawn closer to them, her badass Goth boys. The fact that Dorian insisted on going shirtless, showing off his amazing tattooed chest and gorgeous muscles as he mercilessly beat his drums was almost too much for her to bear.
Fully aware of her proximity, Kelley put a little extra into his performance that night. It was impossible to miss her since she was, in fact, the only one hugging the stage. The thing with younger college bound Goths is while they might come out to watch their favourite bands, they rarely showed enthusiasm, preferring to sit back nonchalantly in their booths or stand by the bar, looking unaffected. They may float a bit closer. Eventually, they may even sway to a tune here and there, but that was about it.
On the contrary, Becky was all smiles, pounding her little fist in the air. She really was like their own little cheerleader. Even Crispin couldn’t fight back the smile that tugged on his lips at the sight of her enthusiasm.
Spellbound, Becky watched and listened as Crispin sang song after song while playing lead guitar. As far as she was concerned, he was awesome.
He’d made snarky comments about hating doing both at the same time, but she couldn’t quite understand why. Even now, though, between songs, she could hear him mutter and swear under his breath. He’d kick at whatever was around and he was currently holding his guitar as if he wanted to strangle the thing.
Eventually, they started to perform a co
ver of a softer familiar song that Becky quite liked. She’d heard them play the original version on the stereo at home. Zoning in on Kelley for the duration of the tune, she didn’t even realize that she was staring.
Damn, did she have to look so sweet? Trying to maintain his concentration was near impossible, especially with her swaying her shapely little hips in perfect tune to his bass. Kelley wanted nothing more than to jump down and sway with her.
After that song wrapped up, they did a run through of two heavier tunes. Near the end of the second one, Becky winced at the way Crispin swore and scowled. He must have screwed up somewhere because he was positively pissed off.
“Fuck this shit!” He yanked the guitar strap off his neck and looked about ready to smash the helpless thing. Frustrated, Dorian tossed his drumsticks to the ground while Kelley just stood there shaking his head.
Judging from the cheers around her, Becky realized that the audience was loving the drama. Looking back towards the band, she could kind of understand their appreciation. While it was obvious to her that this was not a good thing, Crispin’s meltdown only added to the Kingston Quartet’s appeal. They never looked better, or in her eyes, sexier than when they were angry.
Dropping the guitar to the floor, Crispin stormed off stage without a backwards glance. Seconds later, Dorian ran off in a different direction while Kelley hung back looking rather unimpressed with the entire situation.
Moments later, the DJ took over with the music and everyone dispersed. Standing awkwardly by the stage, Becky didn’t quite know what to do with herself.
Jumping down by her side, Kelley took her by the shoulders, spun her around and led her towards the bar.
“What was that all about?” she asked as he hoisted her up onto a barstool.
House of Goths Page 17
