Come Back to Me (Bound to You Book 2)

by Jane Henry

  “And there's this bartender. He's sexy as all hell. I'm watching him pull drinks, and watching his muscles flex, and watching those tats swirl all the way up to his neck, drinking my way to oblivion, fantasizing about running my tongue up those tats.”

  Meredith snorted, but Kirstin's eyes grew more heated and she continued. “And we start talking. He's filling my glass, I'm, you know, letting it all hang out, cuz that's what I do best, and he's funny. He's making me laugh, and I haven't laughed in months.” Her voice dropped. “You know what I mean?”

  Meredith nodded. “Honey, I get it.”

  Kirstin's voice dropped an octave. “I wasn't being a good girl, Mer. You know?”

  Meredith's eyes widened, but she nodded encouragingly as Kirstin continued.

  “I told him I wanted to forget my troubles in more ways than drowning them.” Meredith nodded again, a slow smile creeping on her face.

  “He took me home that night,” Kirstin said. “And holy fucking hell, girl, he made me forget my troubles.”

  Meredith laughed. “So I'm guessing he's good at more than pulling drinks?”

  Kirstin leaned back in her chair, her eyes laughing merrily. “You could say that.” She swallowed, as her eyes gauged Meredith's reaction. “He showed me shit I'd only ever read about, Mer,” she whispered. “Certainly nothing Dennis and I ever did.” Meredith's pulse quickened. She took another sip of drink, slurping the last bit, placing it on the table, she leaned in.

  “You gonna fill me in?” she asked.

  Kirstin smiled. “You want me to kiss and tell?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  Kirstin laughed. “That night, I wanted to let go. I wanted to live in the moment, be free.” She paused, taking another thoughtful sip of her drink. “And he did that for me,” she said with a nod. “He gave that to me, and it was beautiful. He was rough, but in control. He was hot, he took what he wanted, but he gave back.” She paused and frowned. “All those years of marriage, and Dennis never gave to me what Caleb did in one night.”

  Meredith nodded, as her friend continued. Dennis was an asshole.

  Kirstin grinned. “After our first round, I told him how good it felt to let go, to be free, and to just enjoy what we were doing. I told him I'd been tied up in emotions and anger, and I was ready to move past that. Yeah, I was a little tipsy.” She smiled. “And he told me…” she paused, leaning in again, “And this is where I'm gonna let it all out, baby, so brace yourself. He said, 'I can tie you up in a way that will make you feel free, so fucking free, you'll soar.'”

  Meredith's mouth grew dry and she swallowed hard.

  Tie her up? Shit.

  “Yeah?” she whispered.

  “Yeah,” Kirstin whispered back. She leaned in even closer. “And he did.”

  “Wow,” Meredith breathed, as Kirstin giggled and her phone rang.

  “Gotta take this, honey. It's Caleb.”

  As Kirstin answered the phone, the waitress came and slid another mojito on the table. Meredith looked in surprise at her empty glass, then to the full one next to it.

  “Oh, no thank you,” she said. “I didn't order another.”

  The waitress grinned. “Don't have to, honey. It's three for two night. This one's on the house.”

  Meredith shook her head, palm up, gesturing for her to take it back. She was feeling plenty happy and had a vague idea that two was enough, though she couldn't remember in the moment why. “No. I'm all set.”

  “I'll take it,” Kirstin said with a smile as she put her mouth over her phone. “Free booze, honey. Doesn't come every night.”

  This was true.

  Meredith picked up her own phone. She had to try one more time, but when she did, it rang and rang. As she watched Kirstin, laughing and murmuring into the phone to Caleb, she frowned and shoved her phone back in her pocket. Had he gone to sleep? What the hell? How would she even know he was okay if he wasn't going to pick up the phone?

  Didn't he even care about her?

  She looped a finger around the stem of the glass, yanked her mojito over, and took a long pull. Kirstin's eyes smiled at her as she hung up her phone.

  “We'll share,” Meredith decided, pushing aside any thoughts of her promise to Paolo. She wouldn't have a whole one. What was a few sips of another drink? Whatever. And what the fuck did he care, anyway?

  After all.

  Free booze didn't come every night.

  Chapter Three

  By the time Meredith was ready to go home, she managed to convince herself the effects of the alcohol had worn off. Though the mojito had hit her harder than she'd expected, she'd had plenty to eat, and had nursed her drinks over a few hours.

  As Kirstin walked her to the door of the restaurant, Meredith looked with trepidation to her car and then Kirstin's. They were a good distance apart from one another, and Paolo—being all protective and macho—had told her he didn't want her walking to her car alone. She turned to Kirstin. What the hell, she'd ask her to walk with her. But as soon as Meredith opened her mouth to speak, Kirstin's phone rang again. Meredith could tell just by the grin on her face it was Caleb again.

  “He misses me,” Kirstin whispered, rolling her eyes like he was annoying her, but Meredith knew perfectly well he was doing no such thing.

  “Babe, wait a minute,” Kirstin said into the phone. She put the phone down and scooted over, giving Meredith a tight hug. “Let's do this again soon. And let's get the boys together, too. Okay?”

  Meredith hugged her back. “Absolutely.”

  Kirstin put the phone back to her ear and left the restaurant. Meredith frowned and her stomach flipped a little somersault. Shaking her head at herself, convinced Paolo had been overreacting and would understand, she scooted quickly to her car, opened the door, sidled in and hit the lock. But as the doors locked, her phone rang.

  Paolo.

  Why did she feel a tingle of fear?

  She answered tentatively. “Hello?”

  “Baby, I'm so sorry,” he began, his voice low and apologetic. “I wanted to wait up for you, but I dozed off in my chair, and when I woke up I saw I missed your calls. Are you okay?”

  Glancing at the time, her eyes widened. She had completely lost track of time. Her anger at him began to dissolve, and at the sound of concern in his voice, she felt a pang of guilt.

  “Mer?”

  “Honey, I'm fine. It's okay, really. We just left now, and I'm in the car. I'll be home in just a few minutes.” Her heart began to beat fast, and she bit her lip. He'd given her specific instructions. Two very specific instructions. And she'd failed at both. Shit! But she sure as hell wasn't going to tell him on the phone.

  The whole way home, she chastised herself. How hard was it to limit herself to two drinks, and ask Kirstin to walk with her to the car? This wasn't rocket science. Paolo hadn't even asked her anything tricky or challenging like her friend Master Winston asked of his Little Lady. Hell, Little Lady had to okay her food and clothes with her husband, and Winston gave her specific time frames with things like when she was to get up, get to the gym, and go to bed at night.

  Paolo's instructions couldn't have been simpler.

  She swallowed, her stomach plummeting as she pulled onto her street.

  She knew she deserved to be punished.

  Would he punish her?

  Months spent poring over the internet and books had done nothing to prepare her for what it would actually feel like having to come home and confess her infractions. She'd fantasized about being spanked, and in her fantasies, it was never lighthearted and fun. He was always sober, and stern, the spanking always firm and painful. The sterner he was, and the more serious the spanking, the more it excited her.

  But this was far different. This was nothing like what she'd read about. She began spinning the facts in her mind, wondering how she could talk her way around the whole situation, but as she did, she began to wonder how things would go if he didn't punish her.

  Was that what she really want
ed?

  With a sigh, she parked her car and walked to the doorway, eager to get this over with already. The anticipation was killing her. Walking quickly to the front door, she took out her keys and opened it. As she entered the house, she was surprised to find Paolo sitting in the little love seat in their living room, a book in his lap. She'd expected him to be watching TV in the den. He grinned when she entered.

  “Hey, bonita. I wanted to wait here to make sure you got home safely.” He was so hot, his large frame in shadows, his eyes dark and probing, warming as she approached him.

  Her guilt intensified.

  Paolo patted the seat next to him, inviting her to come and sit, and as she shuffled over to him, guilt plagued her. Forcing a smile, she folded herself into the seat next to him. His arm sneaked around the back of the loveseat and pulled her closer to him so that her head fell against his chest, and his hand around her arm, a warm, welcoming embrace that was immediately protective and possessive.

  “You have a good time?” came his low, rumbling question. She loved his voice… low, deep, and warm.

  “Yes. It's so good to be with Kirstin again. She wants to come over some time and bring Caleb.”

  “That'd be great.”

  “She introduced me to the joys of raspberry mojitos.”

  “Mojitos? As in plural?”

  “Um. Well, yes, you did say I could have two.” Damn!

  He nodded, and silence fell. She knew he was waiting for her to tell him about her night with Kirstin but she felt as if the question hung in the air between them. Should she just blurt it all out and be done with it? But, no… it was too much, too hard, sitting here with him felt so nice…

  “Yeah, she told me that she fell hard for Caleb, and he was so good to her. Dennis was a real assho—jerk,” she amended. “I could smack him. But Caleb's very different, and Kirstin's so happy with him. And she told me how he was planning on coming back to the east coast, and it was like it was fate or something; she had to come back to her roots. And she was really grateful to leave behind everything in California.” Better just to keep talking.

  “Understandable,” came Paolo's deep rumble. “I never did give a rat's ass for that shitty husband of hers.”

  Meredith giggled. “I remember.” Paolo had always been tolerant of Dennis, but barely. “Not sure what she ever saw in him,” Meredith murmured.

  “He was a charmer,” Paolo said. “Said all the right things. Had all the right moves and played them well. But he was sleek, that one. He'd ask you if you wanted a drink, and you'd feel like there were strings attached.”

  Meredith sniffed. “This is true.”

  They sat quietly for a moment, while Paolo held his arms around Meredith's shoulder.

  “Come and kneel now, honey.”

  Meredith started. She was so completely taken off guard, so comfortable lying next to him, she hadn't expected the command.

  “What?”

  More insistently now. “I said come and kneel now, honey.” He lifted his arm so she could get up. Nervously, her knees trembling and her heart beat racing, she slid off the couch and knelt before him, between his knees. Placing both hands on either side of her face, his eyes softened and he smiled.

  “I like being able to look in your eyes like this. You're beautiful when you give this to me.” Still smiling, his voice dropped an octave. “I've been thinking about your beautiful ass over my knee all night long.” Her heart stuttered. He'd been thinking about her? More importantly… he'd been thinking about spanking her? Her heart pounded louder as he continued. “Were you a good girl tonight?” He was still smiling softly at her. “Two drinks, and you girls were safe going in and out alone?”

  She dropped her eyes to his knees, not prepared to answer. How could she tell him? Should she tell him?

  “Meredith,” came his low, warning tone.

  Her eyes squeezed shut. She couldn't look at him. Shit.

  “Meredith Lynn, you look at me.”

  Her eyes flew open at the sound of her first and middle name. She gulped. That was a new one.

  “Yes?” she ventured. His eyes were narrowed, lips pressed tight, as his finger went to her chin, making sure she maintained eye contact. Gone were the gentle tone and soft eyes. His eyes fairly glittered with sternness.

  “I asked you a question. Your response leads me to believe you have something to tell me.”

  “You didn't answer the phone!” she blurted out. He dropped his hand.

  “What?” His brows furrowed in confusion. She swallowed, knowing she sounded like a spoiled child, but she was unable to stop the words from coming.

  “I-I planned on only having two drinks. I planned on Kirstin coming out with me to the lot, even though I thought it was overprotective and silly to make me do that, but… you didn't answer the phone.” He placed his finger back under her chin, and she felt tears come as he made her look at his own dark, simmering eyes.

  “I got mad,” she whispered. “Thought it was… you were… not really very serious about me, if you couldn't even answer the phone.” It sounded so silly when she said it all out loud, though it had made perfect sense at the time.

  He paused a beat before he spoke.

  “So because I didn't answer, you thought that deliberately disobeying the two very simple things I asked of you was a justifiable decision?”

  Oh, great. When he put it that way…

  “Um. Yeah?” she whispered. “Plus drinks were three for two,” she said, in a completely futile last-ditch effort. She tried to break eye contact, but his hand grasped her chin even more firmly than before, and she found she couldn't look away. His eyes were furious, his lips pursed in a thin line, and she could practically feel the anger emanating from him. Oh, God. His voice was low and dangerous when he spoke.

  “You think this is a joke?” he asked, in a voice just above a whisper.

  “No,” she whispered, her voice trembling and her hands shaking.

  “No? Yet you think it's okay to ignore my instructions?” Even though she was nervous, and her heart pounded, even though she knew now he was going to punish her and there was no escaping now, she still felt a twinge of arousal at his words. His instructions. Fucking hell, she wanted instructions from him. She wanted him to give a shit about her. She wanted to know she meant something to him.

  “I don't think it's okay. No.” She felt her lip trembling. “I was wrong. I know I was. And…” her voice dropped. It was still so hard to say. “I'm sorry I disobeyed you.”

  He said nothing as he gave her a long, hard look.

  “I'm glad to hear that,” he said, leaning closer to her and taking her face in both hands so that they were only inches away when he whispered, “because I'm totally fucking serious.”

  Fear and arousal, shame and curiosity, awe and foreboding… she felt consumed by conflicting emotions, as he continued.

  “Go to our bedroom and wait for me there.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said sorrowfully, rising from her knees. Turning, she walked alone to their bedroom, shoulders slouched as she made her way to their room. As she began her walk of shame, she recalled some of the books she'd read, and one particular conversation she'd had with Little Lady came to mind.

  “My friend, sometimes the anticipation of punishment is the hardest part of all.”

  Was it true, though? Wasn't punishment itself painful, and embarrassing?

  Meredith wished she could go back in time. Paolo had planned on a nice evening for them, and she'd dashed any hopes she'd had of a pleasant evening together now with her disobedience. She wished she could do it over again and she would still be on her knees in front of him, telling him that yes, she'd obeyed every instruction, and he'd smile, praising her with the rare “Good girl.”

  But now was the time to make it right. Now was the time for her to show how repentant she was. The right thing to do was face what she'd done and take her punishment.

  The right thing to do now was obey him, no matter w
hat she faced.

  ***

  Paolo sat in the living room for a few minutes alone. He was fuming.

  How dare she? When they began just a short while ago, he had decided to be easy on her at first, go gentle. Yeah, there were plenty of things he could've required, plenty of rules he could've lain out. He'd read up on the forums in his down time, and read about how other people approached this lifestyle. But upping his authority with her wasn't something he wanted to do immediately. He wanted to ease her into it. Some people started out writing their rules, putting them in categories even, with headings and sub-headings, and all sorts of shit like how much computer time was allowed, what safety rules were expected, what kind of clothing would be allowed, how the submissive was to address her dom. But Paolo had decided to go a different route.

  He had no interest in controlling everything Meredith did. How could a guy even keep track of all that? What if she broke four or five rules in a day? It had taken some time for him to get over the hurdles in his own mind, reconciling her desire for his dominance and his natural desire to be in charge, with the taboo notion of kicking it up a notch and disciplining her for disobedience. At first, he wasn't sure about spanking her. But they'd talked it out on the forum. He knew she was attracted the idea, and even though he wasn't really sure why at first, he knew she was turned on by the idea of being punished by him. And over time, he had to admit it appealed to him, too. So yeah. Yeah, he was cool with spanking her. He knew he would never really harm her, other than leaving a good sting on her ass.

  But what if she broke multiple rules in a day? What if she became overwhelmed with his expectations?