Secured Heart (Windy City #2)

by Measha Stone

  “Okay. Okay.” Jessica pulled Kelly to her and held her, while she sobbed into her sweatshirt.

  Once Kelly quieted down to a soft whimper, Jessica patted her shoulder. “I’m going to get us a bottle of wine, and you’re going to tell me everything.”

  The bottle of red wine sat nearly empty on Jessica’s coffee table, while Kelly sat on the couch with her friend, curled into a ball and holding her wine glass with a fist around the stem.

  Jessica sat patiently, listening to the entire story before she spoke. “So, you told him about Peltner’s call, and he forbade you from having anything to do with it?” she clarified.

  “Yeah.” Kelly sipped her wine.

  “And you flipped out on him?”

  “Yeah.” She sniffed.

  “And you yelled?”

  “Oh. Yeah.” She nodded.

  “And he’ll never forgive you, he’ll never want to marry you, which is fine because you don’t think it’s possible to have all of this and be married with kids?” A thin ribbon of sarcasm was weaved into Jessica’s voice, but Kelly chose to ignore it.

  “Yes.” Kelly finished her glass of wine and clunked it down on the coffee table.

  “Do you want me to tell you what a dumbass you are being or do you just want another glass of wine?” Jessica didn’t hide her sarcasm at all with that statement.

  Kelly glared at her for a moment then pointed to her glass of wine. “I’m already aware of what a dumbass I am.”

  “Kelly, Kendrick is not going to dump you because you yelled at him.” Jessica poured the wine as she continued, “I saw him at the restaurant; that man has it bad for you.”

  “He looked really mad.” Kelly took the glass of wine.

  “I’m sure he did. If he’s anything like Royce, yelling is a big NO.”

  “Royce won’t let you yell either?” Kelly sniffled again.

  “Oh, he lets me, but then he—well, I try not to do it. Look, Kelly, by the sound of your cellphone that has buzzed every other minute for the past half hour, I’d say he’s trying to get a hold of you. And it’s not to dump you.” Jessica took the wine glass from Kelly’s hand and put it on the coffee table. “Give me your phone.”

  Kelly pulled it from the pocket in her skirt and handed it to Jessica. “Seven missed calls and ten text messages. That’s not a guy wanting to get rid of you; that’s a guy trying to find you.”

  Kelly sighed. “It doesn’t change that we can’t work; we won’t work.”

  “Have you asked him about that?”

  “Jess, I’ve been with him all of two weeks. It’s not exactly the time to ask about marriage plans.” Kelly grabbed her phone back but didn’t look at the screen.

  “No, but you could ask about his thoughts on marriage,” Jessica countered.

  “Right, and then when he never calls again, I’ll know why.” Kelly rolled her eyes. “I’ll just leave it alone for now.” She scraped herself off the couch and slipped her feet into her flats. “Thanks for the wine, I need to get home. It’s late, and I’ve kept you up long enough.”

  Jessica walked her to the door, handing over Kelly’s purse as she opened the door. “Promise me you’ll talk to him. Don’t go trying to figure this all out on your own.”

  “Okay.” Kelly took her purse. “What do I do if he’s still mad at me for yelling at him?” She tossed her phone into her bag.

  “You apologize, and you accept what comes after that.” Jessica hugged Kelly.

  “Don’t you find our situations to be a little odd? I mean Erin would flip her shit if she heard you telling me to accept my punishment like a good girl.”

  “Yeah, she probably wouldn’t understand. But then again, did you think I’d be with someone like Royce?”

  “Well, I don’t think you would have sought him out, but you needed him.” Kelly threw her purse strap over her shoulder and took a deep breath. “Okay, well, thanks for the wine and the shoulder.” Another buzzing sound came from her purse.

  “Answer him,” Jessica called down the stairs as Kelly walked out into the night air.

  CHAPTER twenty-five

  Fits the Crime

  Kendrick walked through the new construction of the Top Floor with a few of his crew members. Construction was well underway, the first four floors already getting ready for interior design work to begin. The Top Floor work was just beginning, and Kendrick had been asked to take a look at the plans, to offer his advice on security systems and camera set ups.

  The architect of the project had shown him the plans and had given his suggestions, allowing Kendrick free reign to contradict and do what he felt was best. The entire day was spent in meetings with investors, construction managers, and his own security team. It was not his favorite part of the job, suits bothered the hell out of him, but it was better than sitting in his office, overthinking the situation with Kelly.

  He hadn’t heard from her since a two-word text around midnight the night before.

  “I’m home” was all it said, but it was enough to let him breathe again. He called and texted her so many times he was beginning to feel like a real life stalker. Knowing she was home and she was safe was enough to allow him to give her the space she needed.

  Space that wouldn’t stop him from delivering the punishment she had earned herself, or the very lengthy talk they were going to have, but would give her time to come to terms with all of it. He had considered calling Peltner to demand he stay the hell away from Kelly, but changed his mind. Kelly would do the right thing; she would obey him in this.

  The idea that Peltner was willing to use her as bait rattled Kendrick, and the thought of her actually going through with it terrified him. What if the unit missed something? If someone didn’t see something or hear something and Ted hurt her?

  Kendrick had left the department, so he could prevent things from happening to innocent people, allowing Kelly to dangle herself in front of Ted was the exact opposite.

  He had to keep her safe. Thinking of anything bad happening to her crushed him, sucked the breath right out of his lungs. He hadn’t reacted that way to any woman before, not even Elizabeth. It wasn’t just Kelly’s submissive side he craved and adored; it was her humor, her outrageous ideas, and the way she seemed to shake him loose from his own confines of structure. Chatting over a glass of wine was as intimate with her as having his hands all over her body. She engaged all of his senses, sexually and mentally.

  “Kendrick.” The foreman tapped him on the shoulder. “I think that about does it for today. I’ll have them run the specs you gave me and see what we can come up with.”

  Kendrick nodded and looked at his watch. Kelly should be starting her last lecture and lab of the day.

  “Thanks.” He took care of a few last details before he headed out.

  His car was parked in a lot a block down from the club, and he took his time walking to it. With Kelly in classes for another hour, he had plenty of time to get to his apartment and get ready for her.

  He shot her a text, telling her to arrive at his place after she got off of work. No side trips. He was glad and relieved to receive her answer of “K” before he reached his apartment.

  After taking a quick shower, Kendrick went into his closet to pull out the items needed for when she arrived. He had warned her his punishments were direct and involved no pleasure for either of them. He didn’t lie.

  The doorbell rang just as he finished closing his closet door, and he went to greet his errant girlfriend.

  Kelly stood outside Kendrick’s door with a trembling stomach and swirling head. Ever since getting his last text, she had been on needles. She reminded herself again what Jessica had told her. Apologize and accept.

  Kelly thought she had herself all steadied. Then Kendrick opened the door, and her nerves began to dance again.

  “Hi.” She smiled meekly and gave a little wave of her hand.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Uh. You beckoned me?” She tried a little joke.


  Nothing.

  “May I come in?” she asked, dropping her hand to her side.

  “Yes,” he said and stepped aside to let her in. She walked past him and stood in the hall, unsure of where to go or what he wanted to do. She braced herself for the dump. A frail promise of no tears was made mentally.

  “Remove your clothing, fold it, and place it neatly in a pile beside the door.” He pulled her purse from her shoulder and turned to put it away in the closet.

  She stared at him for a moment, blankly unsure of what to do.

  “Kelly, do you have trouble with your hearing as well as with your mouth?” His tone was anything but unsure.

  “You’re still mad?” she asked, picking up the hem of her sweater.

  “No. I’m not mad.” He shook his head and leaned against the closet door. “I’m not happy.” He shrugged.

  “Instead of spending the evening having a nice dinner and taking a walk down to the ice cream shop that just opened up like I wanted to do tonight, we have to spend the night working on your temper and getting through your punishment.”

  Each word slapped her, as though they were fisted hands.

  “Punishment?” She swallowed, her hands froze on her shirt. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

  “And storming out, and ignoring all my calls and text messages.” He pointed out for her.

  Her stomach turned, and she took a deep breath. “Yes, for that stuff, too. I was angry, confused, annoyed.” Even as the words came out of her mouth, she knew that although he cared about her feelings, he wouldn’t let them waylay him.

  He looked every bit the determined man. His hands folded firmly across his chest and the look of near boredom that he displayed reeked of it.

  “Angry and annoyed, I get. Why confused?” He didn’t move from his spot when he asked his question. “And you can answer while you begin removing your clothes.” He jerked his chin in her direction.

  With a heavy sigh, she pulled her shirt over her head. She reminded herself of Jessica’s advice, apologize and accept. Apology was easy; the accepting was a bit more difficult. Knowing she was in the wrong seemed like it should be enough. Lesson learned, right?

  “I was confused because although I wanted you to put your foot down, I was irritated that you did,” she said as she folded her shirt and placed it on the floor. “I’m not used to pushing against an authority that doesn’t back down.” She surprised herself by saying, as she shoved her jeans over her hips and stepped out of them.

  “You don’t want me to back down.” He nodded. “Not even from this punishment.”

  She paused her motions and looked at him for a moment, silently. He was right. She didn’t want him to back down; she didn’t want him to forgive and forget that easily. She had been disobedient, disrespectful, she wanted—no, needed—her punishment.

  “I suppose not.” She allowed and slid her panties down her legs, kicking them onto the pile of clothes.

  He stepped to her and pulled her hands down when she went to unclasp her bra. She watched his face as he reached behind her and undid the clasp himself. Still bland. No anger. No arousal. He pulled the bra down her arms and dropped it on top of the discarded panties.

  “Kneel,” he directed and stepped back.

  There was no hesitation in her; she moved down to her knees, feeling the hard, cold tile beneath them and hoped she wouldn’t have to be in that position for very long. Or was that her punishment?

  He reached behind him and pulled something out of his back pocket. It hung from his hand as he squatted down in front of her.

  “Being conflicted about your obedience and my dominance is natural. You’re human,” he explained in a soft flat voice. “You had a choice of staying and working it out—punishment or no punishment—or running away. You chose to run away. We can’t work a problem out if you choose to yell, not listen to me, and run away. Because you made the wrong choices last night, you will have no choices tonight. Because you couldn’t control your mouth last night, you have no control over it tonight.”

  Kelly looked into his eyes as he spoke, not just because he seemed to command it with his presence, but because it felt like the safest place to be. He wasn’t dumping her. He wasn’t throwing her away; he was taking control and putting them back on track. All she had to do was accept it. Accept him.

  “Tonight, you’ll wear this.” He put his hand up to dangle the small ball gag between them.

  She’d seen them before in stores and on the internet, but the idea of having to wear one was unappealing. The straps would look silly in her hair. Many women complained about the drooling factor because they couldn’t close their mouths.

  The red rubber ball didn’t look overly large, but she was still certain she wouldn’t be able to move her lips easily.

  “If you need something, you’ll ask first. I suggest you get creative in your style of requests.” He stood and moved behind her.

  The ball pressed against her lips. “Open,” he ordered, and after one lick to her bottom lip, she obeyed. The ball was pulled into her mouth, and he began working the strap behind her.

  “I’m glad you braided your hair today; it will make this easier,” he said, pulling on the strap. Some of her hair tugged, and she grimaced at the sharp sensation in her scalp.

  Tears built up in her eyes as he finished fastening the bottom strap. She was sure she looked ridiculous. His tone still had not lightened, and there was no pleasure in his gaze when he returned to his position in front of her.

  “No choices tonight. Do you understand that?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Words, Kelly,” he demanded, and she felt her eyes bulge at him.

  The gag muffled her voice, but she managed to answer him.

  “Do you have an early class tomorrow?”

  She answered no, and he nodded.

  “I’d like you to sleep here tonight. Is that possible?” he asked, and again, she nodded along with her answer.

  Would the punishment last all night? Did he mean to torture her with sleep deprivation?

  He stood up and quietly walked down the hall and into the living room. She remained motionless. She hadn’t been given leave to follow, but he didn’t say to stay. Her knees were becoming sore from the hard flooring beneath her. The television had been turned on, and she could hear laughter coming from the audience of whichever sitcom he had flipped to.

  “Come here,” he finally called to her.

  She stood and walked to the living room, rubbing the ache from her knees.

  Kendrick sat on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He had removed his shoes and lined them up beside the sofa. Sock clad feet crossed at the ankle rested on the table, while his hands were folded behind his head. He looked every bit the comfortable, at-ease couch potato.

  “Sit with me.” He pointed to the cushion on the floor beside his legs.

  Once she was situated, she pulled her knees to her chest. The room had a chill that crept around her. He seemed to be ignoring her discomfort, and she found his laughter at the television show to be almost forced. She scooted closer to him and hugged her knees. The stiffness in her jaw was beginning to irritate her, and she could feel a buildup of saliva creep closer to the edge of her lips.

  “Don’t. No wiping.” He tapped two fingers onto her head when she raised her hand to wipe her mouth.

  She didn’t look back at him, only pulled her legs up further into her body. For him to see her drooling would be a humiliation she wasn’t ready to bear.

  The television flicked off, and Kendrick moved his feet from the table. “Stay here until I call you,” he directed with a flat tone and got up from the couch, leaving her.

  She could feel the air of the room swirling around her naked body, and she wondered briefly if he had purposely made the room more chilled than usual. The longer she sat curled on the cushion the longer she had to mentally berate herself for having been such a brat the night before. Surely, she co
uld have held on to her temper. Flying off the handle didn’t get her anywhere. He hadn’t been open to listening to her as she raved, and she’d refused to listen to him either. Nothing could be solved that way.

  He had every right to be upset with her. Stomping out of the apartment and ignoring his calls was childish at best. She had told him she would obedient, that she would follow his rules. Staying away from Ted was definitely one of those rules, and she’d pushed him on it. There were other ways to bring up the subject without getting him all riled up and herself into the mess she found herself in now.

  She began to wonder what he might have in store for her. Would he leave her in the living room to freeze all night? Was he going to leave the horrible gag in until morning? She wiped her chin on her knee, removing some of the spittle that had begun to drip down her chin.

  She groaned at the annoyance of it all. Instead of having a hot night of romantic banter and erotic pleasures, she was stuck, gagged and ignored.

  “Okay, Kelly, come with me.” Kendrick’s voice, soft and demanding, surprised her. She hadn’t heard him come down the steps into the room.

  She swiped her chin across her knee once more and stood. His face when she turned to him told her he was not pleased with that action.

  “Didn’t I tell you not to wipe?”

  She dropped her gaze from his and shuffled her feet. Wiping with her knee wasn’t really wiping, right? Apparently, it was.

  “To the bedroom.” He let out a heavy sigh and stood to the side as she walked past him and up the stairs.

  The room was well-lit, and she was able to see everything he had laid out for them. On the bed were two different paddles. One long, thick wooden paddle much like she saw hanging from the walls of college frat houses and one shorter, wider and well-worn leather. Beside the paddle was a long cane and a fat strap. Her eyes flickered over the implements as panic rose in her throat. She’d only been spanked by him so far. He’d used the leather paddle on her once, but it was fun; there was rubbing and kissing after each stroke. She doubted there would be much of that coming her way. Her eyes settled on the cane, and her breath quickened.