Bonds of Courage

by Lynda Aicher

  There was a brief moment of pure silence. The woman was covering her mouth now, tears falling from her eyes. Then she nodded.

  A round of cheers went up, and the man swooped her into a tight hug that appeared both crushing and tender. Vanessa sucked in another breath when the couple met in a long kiss passionate enough to have Holden shifting in unease.

  He was standing there with a bag over his head, his hands bound to his belt like a prison inmate, and it was the sight of the pure love and devotion of a couple he didn’t know that made him uncomfortable? Yeah, he needed his head checked for sure.

  In the next second the group seemed to descend on the couple in a round of hugs, congratulations and backslaps. He looked to Vanessa when she didn’t move to join in. Her lips were compressed into a thin line, a frown marring her forehead. The shock of seeing it had him wondering about the cause. Was it something from her past or was it about this couple specifically?

  He pressed closer. The desire to encircle her in his arms and hug the sorrow from her was overwhelming. Since he couldn’t do that, he tilted his head down and pressed a small kiss to her crown through the mesh opening. Her hair was silky, a clean floral scent permeating from it.

  She snapped her chin around, eyes wide to reveal a stark vulnerability that stopped his breath. It was covered by a glare before she turned back to the group, but that didn’t stop him from zeroing in on the brief crack in her icy shell.

  In the next instant, a smile wiped away all traces of anything but happiness on her face. The sudden change left him staring. Did she do that often? The lightning-quick morphing of emotions didn’t seem to faze her at all.

  She unwound the leash from her hand and dropped the end to the ground. “Stay here. I need to congratulate them.” She didn’t wait for his acknowledgment before moving off to join the cluster of people surrounding the couple.

  This was not what Holden had expected when she’d cuffed him and led him from the office. Yet he didn’t question it. Not when he buzzed with the knowledge that his chaste kiss had affected her. For a second, she’d let her guard down. He doubted that happened often, but it proved that he could give her something too.

  He stood exactly where she’d left him, his spine straight, eyes never leaving her. There was no fuzzing out now, not when his Mistress was almost lost in the middle of a group of people he didn’t know.

  His Mistress. The term struck a chord in him that strummed with pleasure. This—her—was what he needed. This was exactly what he’d been looking for since he could define what it was he wanted. And now that he’d found her, he sure as hell wasn’t letting her go.

  Chapter Four

  Vanessa strode down the long hallway, her toes pinching in her heels with every step she took. One would think that three hundred dollar shoes would be comfortable enough for her to wear for thirteen hours without killing her feet. Wrong. But hell, they were killer cool, made her legs look incredible and hadn’t hurt at all when she’d put them on at six that morning.

  The hiss of a whip, followed by the high crack as it hit its target, flowed up the staircase from the Dungeon below. She inhaled the pungent scents of leather, sweat and sex that filtered over the fainter aroma of lemon from the disinfectant the club used.

  She opened the door to the private room and entered, Holden’s leash clinking against the door frame before she swung around to close them in the room. The night hadn’t gone as planned, and it annoyed her more than it should.

  Her linen blouse clung to the moisture on her back and she really wanted to remove her suit jacket, but before she could even think of relaxing she had to deal with the mess she’d started. A hot bubble bath in her Jacuzzi tub had her name written all over it.

  Why in the hell had she thought doing this with Hauke would be a good idea?

  She reached up and snatched the hood off his head in a brisk movement that did little to appease the ire that simmered too close to the surface. He took a large inhale and shook his damp bangs off his forehead. His cheeks were flushed and a bead of sweat trailed down the side of his face from his temple.

  He wet his lips and watched her, eyelids heavy over his blue eyes. He hadn’t spoken a word in over an hour as they’d celebrated Deklan and Kendra’s engagement. But then, she hadn’t asked him a question either. He’d obviously been hot under the black hood, but he’d followed her command without complaint. In fact, he’d been too perfect on the roof.

  He hadn’t shown a single hesitation or sign of doubt once they’d left the office. And now, the calm focus and quiet contentment were signals of a sub floating close to his subspace.

  He was submissive and fucking knew it. She was certain of that. No newly introduced submissive would take to it like this. Not when she’d forced him into a public setting with strangers. She was guessing he’d known all along what his real desires were.

  Did he really think he could play her? Ass. What a waste of her time.

  She dropped the leash, letting it clank against the hardwood floor, and went to the mini fridge. She returned with a bottle of water, thrusting it at him. “Drink.”

  He looked at her, brows raised before he lifted his hands, only to have them halt an inch later.

  For Christ’s sake. She was really off her game if she couldn’t remember that his hands were clipped to his belt buckle. She had no business doing anything with him when her head wasn’t in it.

  And still he hadn’t spoken. His silence was rewarding and irritating. He wanted a game, then fine—she played to win. She could call his bluff or walk out of the room and leave him to flounder in his own issues. After this stunt, he deserved any crap that came his way.

  She twisted the lid off the water and took a long drink before lifting the bottle to Hauke’s lips. The ease at which he tipped his head back, closed his eyes and trusted her to pour the water into his mouth had her breath hitching.

  Once again, his scent surrounded her. Heat seemed to radiate from his exposed skin, enticing her to touch his broad shoulders and solid chest.

  She stepped back, the impulse squashed. Instead, she finally let herself take in the full beauty of the man. He was the perfect example of an athlete in top physical condition. But unlike the gym-bunnies who strove for the chiseled, cut look, Hauke was a picture of hidden strength. There wasn’t a six-pack defining his abs or bulky pectoral bulges marring his chest. No, his power was understated and hidden beneath the stockier mass required to sustain the physical sprints and body checks on the ice.

  She took another drink from the bottle then strolled around him. Her heels clicked on the wood floor, marking her path. The room itself consisted of a metal-framed daybed in the corner, a pommel horse near the opposite wall and a cabinet stocked with supplies. A small dresser and chair were positioned next to the refrigerator by the door, and a set of chains hung from the ceiling, mounted with sturdy bolts about arms’ width apart.

  She paused at his back, enjoying the view of corded muscles that led to the real power hidden beneath his slacks. The sight of the tight, rounded curve of his ass was enough to make her mouth dry. The absent drink she took did little to get rid of the parched state that persisted. Hockey players had some of the best glutes and thighs in the industry—if not the best.

  Hauke had remained still through her lengthy perusal and while that was great submissive behavior, a part of her wanted to see him crack. His lifted chin was the only thing breaking the definition of the proper submissive form of subservience.

  She set the water bottle down and moved in behind him. How far could she push him before he faltered? “Where’d the change come from?” she asked, her breath drifting over the bare skin of his shoulder. Her heels gave her the height to do so, but then, she’d never let her five-foot-five stature be a disadvantage.

  His head turned slightly toward her, but otherwise he remained still. “Wh
at do you mean?”

  She slapped his ass. The crack rang through the room and stung her hand. There wasn’t an ounce of give in his flesh. His butt cheeks clenched, a hiss of inhaled breath singing through his nostrils.

  “Try again,” she demanded, blowing a slow rush of air over the damp skin at his nape. The shiver that ran down his back seemed to chase right into her.

  He shook his head, a hard snap that tossed his hair around. “I want this, Mistress.” His voice had softened, a gravelly truth rumbling through the words along with the respectful tone that had her control-freak core purring.

  She had him, right here.

  But he’d lied to her.

  A man didn’t suddenly become a willing, accepting submissive after one little act of bondage. She smacked his ass again, the sting on her palm reminding her of his deception. He flinched, his jaw clenching.

  “I don’t appreciate being played.” She stepped to the side and landed a full swing to his ass that reinforced why she used a paddle when dishing out punishment. Yet the ache in her palm was welcomed. “You lied on your app.” Another smack. “You lied to me.”

  The next blow bordered too close to anger. Heat radiated up her arm to ignite the deep-seated resentment she’d been trying to bank since leaving the rooftop.

  Damn it. This was wrong.

  She sucked in a breath that did nothing to ease the knot in her stomach. He’d abused her trust, but she wouldn’t allow the ache in her chest to grow.

  “I’m sorry, Mistress.” The apology was accompanied with a tip of his head that spoke of his sincerity. His profile showed eyes closed and brows drawn low.

  “You should be.” She wiped the trace of sweat from her forehead before walking to the door. She paused with her hand on the knob to face him. “You wasted my time and tried to manipulate me. I’m not another bunny you can wrap around your finger.” She raked a scorn-filled glance over him. “Go back to the rink, Hauke. At least your game is halfway decent there.”

  “Wait.” He took a step toward her but froze when she leveled an icy glare at him. Yeah, that one little action was enough. “Please,” he said. “I wasn’t playing you.”

  She gave a derisive snort and shook her head. “Still lying.” Her sigh was harsh, but served to drain away the last of her anger. She’d been so sure she could show him what he was that it had never occurred to her he already knew. A bit of her own conceit had been at play, she could admit.

  “Be careful, Hauke,” she said. “The Den is the safest place in the area for you to play, but nothing’s guaranteed. I’ll tell Seth you’re a sub. He can finish the entrance interview. If he lets you in, I’d suggest you cut the crap and own what you are before you get hurt. Topping from the bottom doesn’t work with a Domme who knows what she’s doing, and you really don’t want to play with a Domme who doesn’t.”

  “Look.” He reached his hands out, but the cuffs halted his movement with a jerk. “Damn it.” He glared at the restraints before looking back to her. “Can we talk about this? I fucked up. I get that.” He wet his lips. “But...but I want this.”

  She studied him, refusing to let his gruff charm sway her. “I’m sure you do. But I don’t.” She opened the door, the cooler air from the hallway wafting in. “Seth will bring your shirt.” She nodded toward his cuffs. “You can get yourself out of those if you want to badly enough.”

  With that she left the room, the door clicking closed with a finality she took to heart. Her stride was sure and strong as she made her way downstairs to Seth’s office. There was a bathtub calling her and a stack of papers to read. Hopefully Hauke had learned his lesson, but then, her years of working with pro athletes had taught her that arrogance often trumped intelligence.

  Too bad. Or maybe thank God.

  His little top-of-the-head kiss on the rooftop had been way too personal, the gentle affection too close to intimate. No, the man blurred too many lines in her life and she couldn’t afford to let that happen.

  Even if, for the first time in her life, she’d been tempted.

  * * *

  The echo of the door closing hit Holden like a check to the boards. So much for not letting her go. Hell, he’d never had control of that. She’d left no doubt as to what she thought of him and his actions. Shit.

  The need to move had him twisting his hands and cocking his shoulder to reach one of the easy-release straps on the wrist cuffs. He wrenched it off, the tearing sound ripping through the room. The second one came off a moment later, and he quickly undid the clip that kept them bound to his belt buckle.

  He rubbed at his wrists, the skin moist beneath his touch as he battled between the sense of loss and relief. The urge to toss the cuffs and leash to the ground was curbed by a need to respect Vanessa even if she wasn’t there. It was one hundred percent his fault that she’d left. Swiping a hand through his damp hair, he stalked to the small desk and set the items next to the forgotten hood.

  His stomach clenched at the sight of the objects by each other. He drifted his fingers over the soft material of the hood. A longing for what he’d been so close to getting spurred him to spin away.

  Fuck.

  He scratched at his chest, rubbed his neck and stretched his arms. When that didn’t work, he swung his arms around in an attempt to rid himself of the pent-up energy that hummed beneath his skin and kept his erection pointed high. Nothing helped.

  I need to get out of here.

  Screw his shirt. He had a dozen more in his closet, but he didn’t know the back way out and parading through the club would suck.

  Taking a deep breath, he squatted down and gripped his hands behind his neck. Another deep breath pushed the air through his nose and started the calming process he’d learned when he was barely a teen. He focused on the pull in his thigh and calf muscles, the stretch along his spine, the control of each muscle group as he slowly straightened. He dipped down again, repeating the process, rounding his thoughts inward until there was just his body and the movement.

  He was on set number thirty before the door clicked open again. He pushed up, dropping his hands to meet the gaze of one of the men from the rooftop. The band that had held his hair at his nape was gone so it now swayed over his shoulders as he closed the door and stepped up to Holden.

  “Mr. Hauke.” He extended his hand. “I’m Seth Mathews. Vanessa told me I’d find you here.” He held up his other hand, revealing Holden’s shirt.

  Holden shook the man’s hand. “Thanks,” he said, taking his shirt. He slipped it on and started on the buttons.

  Seth waited, hands in his pockets until Holden looked up. “What happened?” The flat question gave no indication of what the man was thinking.

  Holden sucked in a breath and stalled for time by working on the buttons at his wrists. There were multiple options available to him, but only one felt right. “I lied. She got pissed.”

  “I saw the aftermath,” Seth said, a small chuckle following. “I don’t blame her though.”

  Holden tucked the ends of his shirt into his pants and finally had no reasons left to avoid meeting the other man’s eyes. The relief at finding Seth’s lips quirked up in a half smile instead of a frown brought a smirk to his own face. “Yeah,” he mumbled, ducking his head, the guilt heavy. “It was stupid.”

  He’d been caught in a lie and deserved the punishment. Maybe that was why he’d enjoyed Vanessa’s hard slaps to his ass so much. And that thought had his dick responding when he’d just gotten the bastard under control. Traitor.

  “Why’d you do it then?”

  The directness was appreciated. At least the man was giving him a chance to explain. Holden looked up, shoving his hands in his pocket to keep them still. “I can’t have my...” His what? God, was he ready to name the cravings he had? “Desires going public. I couldn’t risk the chance of someone seeing the
application, copying it and posting it online. Something like that could kill my career.”

  “So it’s okay if it’s posted with you as a Dom, but not as a submissive?”

  Holden winced. “They’d both be bad, but the submissive stuff would do a ton more damage.”

  “Okay.” Seth nodded, just one small bob. “Why maintain the lie once you were here?”

  “Really?” Holden questioned without thinking. The man raised his brow. Was that silent reprimand a skill all Doms mastered? He sucked in a breath and tried to lower his tone. “Vanessa’s the PR rep for several players. She works with the Glaciers’s management. How in the hell was I supposed to trust her when she walked into your office? Especially after what happened the last time I tried to explore this lifestyle?” He exhaled and stared at the door. He might as well walk out and never come back. “It was a blind check. I had to protect myself.”

  Seth crossed his arms over his chest, his assessing gaze boring into Holden until he had to clench his teeth to keep from fidgeting. “Are you ready to be honest?”

  “Am I going to be tricked again?”

  “We didn’t trick you.”

  “No?” Holden didn’t care if he was challenging the man who held the key to his membership. “Then what was all of this?” He waved his arm out to encompass the room. “The whole bait-and-switch then surprise-the-unsuspecting-athlete wasn’t about being honest.”

  Seth looked away. That was the first sign of weakness the man had shown, and Holden took a dose of satisfaction in that. Vanessa might be angry about being duped by him, but he’d been just as played by the two of them.

  “Sorry about that,” Seth finally said. “That’s not the way entrance interviews usually go.”

  Holden crossed his arms, matching Seth’s pose in a stand-off. Now that his embarrassment and desire had faded, his frustration at the entire situation spiked his anger. So yeah, he liked some domination in areas of his life, but he wasn’t a fucking pushover.