by Vivian Lux
He lowered my hips down, and knelt upward, pressing my legs back. My eyes went wide at the different angle, the way the curve of his cock caught that secret place inside of me. "Oh god, Rett, please," I whispered, my throat raw from screaming, from coming so fucking hard.
In a second his eyes were only inches from mine. "Yes, Brynn," he gasped. "Tell me what you want."
"I want to come!" I exploded.
His eyes flashed and widened. He knelt back up and held my gaze as he reached down and pressed his thumb against my clit.
I burst upward even as he thrusted himself deep inside of me and I didn't think anyone had ever been deeper, it's almost like he became a part of me. And he was shouting and I was coming and suddenly we were both falling, only the ropes holding me. But he was holding me even tighter and the last thing I screamed before my words dissolved into babble was his name.
Rett curved over the top of me, hips still jerking tiny tremors even as we both lay still. For a moment, I floated in a weightless exhaustion, dead to the world until one by one my senses come back.
First my hearing and the sound of his heartbeat — or was it mine?
Second came taste, and the bright copper in my mouth from where I'd bit my lip too hard — or maybe he had?
Third came smell and the mingling scents of our bodies and the musk of sex filling the room.
Touch had always been there, and the sting of the ropes on my skin finally brought me back to myself.
When finally my sight returned, the first thing I saw were green eyes searching mine.
And I smiled.
Chapter Twenty
Everett
She was smiling.
That was the part that broke me. Not the part where I let loose the part of me that dwelled in shadow. Not the part where I'd come so hard I nearly blacked out. No, it was that quiet moment where I looked down at her, worried and anxious over having revealed myself and she was smiling up at me.
"Hey," I whispered, too awestruck with her to be more articulate than that.
"Hey," she whispered back, reaching out to cup my face even though the ropes still held her tight.
I turned my head and buried my lips in her palm. I sat up, unknotting her wrists. I slung the rope back down to the bed and then began the slow, delicate process of retracing the knots I had tied over her skin. The white lacework fell away, revealing the image of itself, like a developing negative on her skin. I couldn't help but lean over and press my lips to the marks, kissing lines that crisscrossed her body.
When I reached the final knot between her breasts, I paused and looked for a moment. I needed to burn this image into my brain. The way her pert breasts were perfectly displayed between the X of my rope. If she had let me, I would have taken a picture but I had no idea how to ask such a thing so I swallowed and set to work undoing the intricate knot I had tied. Boy Scouts came in handy.
At last the rope fell away, brushing the chafed skin. She winced a little and it was like an arrow straight to my heart. "The marks will fade," I promised her, transfixed by the sight of the pink lines. I brushed a kiss along the underside of her wrist where the pulse still fluttered, then looked up at her eyes.
She was looking where my lips had been and then reached down to trace the lines between her breasts. "What if I don't want them too?" she exhaled.
If she was trying to make me her slave, she was succeeding.
"Well," I said, clearing my throat and trying like hell to keep from declaring my everlasting devotion. "I guess you'll have to let me do it again?"
It came out like a question, but her eyes went deadly serious. "I didn't think... that was intense," she breathed, catching herself.
I wanted so badly to know what she didn't think, but I didn't press it. She had already given me more than I ever expected. "It was," I agreed.
How to explain how intense it was? I was Everett McCabe. I grew up the golden son of doting parents. I was a literal Boy Scout. I helped old ladies cross the street. I was the upright paragon of manly virtue. To want what I wanted in the bedroom; to dominate, overpower and control, it was the opposite of everything I should be. I'd fought it for years, maybe my whole fucking life. I kept it tamped down and under control and I thought I could handle it until Brynn...
And then she'd said yes.
And then she'd let me.
And then she'd liked it.
Intense was too small a word for what this was.
"How are you?" I asked, checking in, worrying. I smoothed my hand lightly over the places the ropes had marked. "Can I get you anything?"
Her lips curved back into that smile and she touched my face with her newly freed hand again. "What are you?" she asked.
I blinked. Then stiffened. Pulling away, I looked down at her. "What do you mean?" I ventured cautiously.
She sat up, shaking her head. "I can't..." She peered closer at me. "There are two of you in there, aren't there?" she asked, staring into my eyes. I blinked and swallowed. "Jekyll and Hyde, right? Boy Scout Rett and Rett the..." She blushed.
"The pervert?"
"No." She shook her head. "Is that what you think? That you're perverted?" She bit her lip and grinned, subconsciously tracing the line along her wrist. "Well then guess what?"
"What?" I breathed.
She slid her hand over my sheet and closed it over mine. "Guess I'm a pervert too."
My heart turned a cartwheel in my chest, crowding my lungs so I couldn't speak. She leaned back onto the headboard. "So... oh fuck I sound like such a fucking girl when I ask this shit."
I grinned faintly at her. "You are a girl," I reminded her, reaching out to brush her breast.
"Fair point."
"What were you going to ask?"
"Well..." She bit her lip and looked away. "Is that what we're doing now?" She cleared her throat. "Being perverts together?"
I clenched my fist and then relaxed it. Slowly I regained control, pushing down the part of me that was ready to fall to my knees and declare my devotion. She was still thinking of this as a bit of fun. A diversion to keep her occupied over her summer vacation.
If that's what it took...
"Yeah. Sounds good to me," I said, stretching. If she wanted casual, I would be casual. I would do whatever she wanted. She just had to ask.
Chapter Twenty-One
Brynn
It was the second day of July and even though it was still midmorning, the temperature was already climbing into the upper 80s. I tugged at the sleeves of my long-sleeved t-shirt, trying to pull them down even further. "How does it look?" I asked Mr. Stevens.
My cat shot me a look of utter contempt and lifted his paw and started licking.
"Yeah, well, I can't do that," I said, pulling up the sleeve to reveal the faint pink line that ringed my wrists.
I couldn't help it. I grinned. I couldn't seem to stop grinning these days. My body looked like a roadmap and I couldn't be happier about it.
That was the beauty of the rope, I was starting to realize. It made the memory so much sharper. When my maxi skirt brushed my ankles and enlivened the sensitive skin there, I clearly remembered Rett's face as he finished the knot and then pushed my knees up to my chest. When I saw the faint lines on my chest, I could picture the way Rett used that knot for leverage to fuck me deeper as I screamed. Every moment with him seemed to be seared into my skin. Just pressing my fingers into the place the ropes held me was enough to make me smile.
I felt like I'd found some kind of secret only he and I shared. His ropes held me together. His ropes brought me back to myself.
But they also made it really awkward to dress myself in the summertime. The other day my brother had taken one look at me in my long skirt and long sleeves and asked me when I joined the Amish.
"Okay so, what about bracelets?"
Mr. Stevens looked up from his licking.
"Yeah, I think that'll work," I said, pulling off my long-sleeved shirt. I was instantly cooler. Rifling through my
drawer, I pulled out a t-shirt with pretty flutter sleeves and higher neckline. Then I searched through the tangle on my dresser until I found a wide wooden bangle for one wrist and a set of stacked beaded bracelets for the other.
Then I took another look at the tangle. I'd been staring at the jumbled mess for months now, basically since I'd moved in. I'd been waiting until I had the time to organize it properly, waiting until I found the perfect box, preferably an antique wood inlay from Mrs. Feathergill's antique store, to display it in.
"But that doesn't seem to be happening," I mused aloud.
Mr. Stevens let out a chirpy little meow.
"You're right," I declared. "This is ridiculous." I bent over the tangle and extricated a chunky plastic beaded necklace meant to be strung around your neck several times. "I don't even wear this," I said, turning to show Mr. Stevens. "I mean, I thought maybe if I got the perfect tunic but..." I shook my head. "I never did, and I probably never will so..."
Mr. Stevens blinked.
"You're right," I said again. "I'm getting rid of it now." I went down to the kitchen and grabbed a bag from the mountain of plastic bags I never seemed to remember to take back to the grocery store for recycling. Then I headed back upstairs.
In a matter of fifteen minutes, I had untangled most of the mess. Three quarters of it ended up in the plastic bag, destined for the thrift store.
"I just need a..." I thought for a minute. Then a lightbulb went off in my head. "One of your old food bowls! That'll keep it contained," I said. "At least until I find something nicer. But at least it won't be strewn all over my dresser anymore."
Mr. Stevens was very interested in the reappearance of his old food bowl and I had to dump another cupful of food into his current one in order to keep him at bay while I took the other one upstairs. I laid out the remaining three necklaces, the ones I actually liked and wore, then added the two bangles and three sets of earrings to the bowl. Then I stepped back.
For the first time in months, the top of my dresser was clear. "Holy shit," I exhaled. It was strange how light I was suddenly feeling. I needed to mark this day down.
A little noise erupted out of my mouth and I turned in a slow circle to eye the journal on my nightstand that had been plaguing me for weeks.
"All right, asshole," I said. "It's on." And I grabbed it and ran downstairs for a pen.
*****
I'd been journaling for a solid hour, the words coming fast and thick in a torrent of thoughts and musings when my phone buzzed on my coffee table.
I jumped, sending a line of ink skittering up the page, but I didn't worry about the page getting messy for once. I just reached for my phone and looked at the name.
I answered the call with a huge grin on my face. "Hey Autumn," I sang out.
"Oh my God," she wailed at the other end of the line. "I am such a shit friend. How has like two weeks gone by with me barely seeing you?"
I swallowed guiltily. I'd been so wrapped up in things — literally, I grinned to myself — that I'd let too much time slip by as well. "It's fine," I reassured her. "You're not a shit friend."
"Well I will won't be anymore," she said determinedly. "You're coming over for dinner. This Friday. No excuses bitch, I need to see your face."
I took a deep breath. "For dinner?" I repeated.
"Yes." I heard a muffled voice on the other end. "Cole says you have to come too, so that's two against one."
I winced. I loved Autumn dearly, but the idea of spending at dinner watching the two of them wrapped up in newlywed bliss made my stomach churn. I took a deep breath. "Sure, I'd love to." I hesitated. How could this be better? I touched my wrist. "Can I bring someone?"
I could practically hear Autumn's eyes grow wide. "Is there... Someone you want to bring?" she asked, emphasizing the word someone like it was in all capital letters.
I took a deep breath. "There is," I hedged.
"Well? Tell me who it is!" she demanded.
I hesitated again. Autumn and Rett had dated, back when she and Cole weren't together. We had spent a lot of time laughing about how uptight he was, how conservative. Of course that was before...
Idly I chased the line of sensitive skin that ringed my wrist. "Rett McCabe," I said firmly.
I could practically hear Autumn's eyes go even wider. "Really?" she asked.
"Really," I said firmly.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Everett
I was in the middle of a huge project when my cell phone buzzed on my desk. I looked down, irritated over whoever was interrupting me at the moment.
Then I grabbed the phone with the biggest, stupid grin on my face.
"Hey," I said, careful to keep my voice low. Phone conversations tended to carry in this office, with everything getting somehow quieter so everyone could eavesdrop.
"Hi, am I bothering you?" Brynn asked.
I shook my head. Like she could see it. "Not at all." You could never bother me. "What's going on?"
"I have a favor to ask."
I lowered my voice even further. "Whatever you want Brynn. You know that. You just have to ask."
She let out a breathless little laugh. "Stop it."
"What, am I making you..."
"Remember? Yeah." I could hear the little gasp in her voice and was proud as shit that I was the one who put it there. She dropped her voice too. "I liked what you did the other night. From behind?"
I swallowed. "I liked that too."
"So this is a lot to ask..." she hedged.
"Brynn," I warned her. "Say what you want."
She heaved a giant sigh. "Remember Autumn Melton?"
I leaned back in my chair. "Of course."
"Well, she's a good friend of mine."
"I know that Brynn."
"You do? How?"
"Small town," I reminded her.
She laughed. "Okay fair enough, so you know she's Autumn Melton-Granger now?"
"Yes, of course."
"Well she wants me to come over," she exhaled in a rush of breath, "and she and Cole just got married and I feel like a third wheel and I was wondering if you could maybe..."
"Come with you?" I smiled.
"Um. Yeah." She waited a beat. "I know it's a lot to ask what with you guys dating a while back..."
"Brynn that was ages ago."
"It really wasn't," she pointed out.
I grinned. "Well it feels like it was. Yes, of course, I'd love to come with you."
"Really?"
She sounded so fucking delighted.
I was fucking delighted too. "Yeah really. When is this dinner happening?"
"Friday?"
"What time? I'll pick you up."
"Seven?"
"That sounds fine. I'll see you then."
"Thanks Rett," she said sincerely.
So many words leaped to my lips at once, crowding and jostling each other that I lost the ability to speak for a moment. When I finally recovered it, the only thing I could say was, "You're welcome."
It wasn't until I hung up that I realized she'd made no cracks about using me, no jokes about how useful I was to have around. A flush of triumph spread from my hairline all the way down to my neck.
I was so wrapped up in my jubilation that I didn't even hear Josh until he was right at my door. "Taking personal calls at work, McCabe?" he called out, louder than he needed to, as he folded his arms and leaned in my doorway. "Wouldn't have figured you as somebody to break company policy like that."
"What the fuck do you want, Withers?" I exploded. I was not in the mood for this. Not right now. Not after Brynn...
"Whoa man, calm down!" he said, holding up his hands like he was trying to ward off a blow. "I'm just playing with you. Learn to take a joke."
On any other day, I would have chuckled and played along. But today was not one of them. "I can take a joke just fine when it's actually funny," I told him.
From the flicker of hesitation that passed across his face I could tell I was unn
erving him. But rather than get the hint, he cracked a big old Jack o'lantern smile. "Who was she?"
"Who?"
"The chick? The one you were gettin' all goopey with?" His eyes widened. "Was it the blonde chick from the country club? Shit man, I have to say my belated thanks to you for bringing her. I've never seen a more perfect rack in all my days. You seen those tits yet, McCabe? You get your face down in there and just motorboat the shit out of... fuck!"
His speech was interrupted by a loud squawk and I couldn't figure out why he was yelping like that until I looked down and saw that I had him by the shirt collar.
"What the fuck, McCabe?"
We were right in my doorway, which opened out into a sea of cubicles. Heads were popping up over the walls like prairie dogs peeking out of their holes. People were seeing me losing my cool like this, the exact opposite of the buttoned-up Boy Scout they knew me to be.
And I didn't give a fuck.
"Don't," I told Withers, keeping my voice low. "Don't you ever talk about Brynn that way. Ever."
"Jesus," he hissed. I let go of his collar — slowly — and he let out a nervous cough. "Fucking hell McCabe."
"And another thing," I heard myself say, suddenly on a roll. "I'm not your frat brother. We're fucking co-workers and that's it. You bring me your project when you're done with your end of it, and that's it. No more hanging around my office talking about tits like some goddamned middle schooler. Grow the fuck up, Withers."
He blinked rapidly. "Yeah man," he said soothingly, holding up his hands in front of him. "Sure. Whatever you say."
"You're goddamned right." And with that I turned back into my office and for the first time since I started working here years ago, I shut my goddamned door.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brynn
Cole and Autumn had spent most of the year renovating one of the beautiful old Victorians in Rett's neighborhood. It was only a short walk over there from his house, but every step felt fraught with meaning.
Oh, don't mind us, just your basic every day couple, going over to a dinner party like a completely normal people. No one can tell he ties me up in the bedroom. No one can tell how much I like it.
