She nodded in reply.
Taking her hand, he drew her up the stairs, then stopped in front of a plain white door. “Remember, you have a safe word. I expect you to use it if you need to. You can also use stoplight words—yellow if you’re uncertain, red for stop—if you forget. Once we walk through this door, I and I alone have say with what we do. I’ll respect your hard list and your safe words, but that’s all the input you get. You can tell me you’re uncomfortable with something if you like. I may or may not listen.”
Her stomach quivered at the harsh words, combined with his half smirk. Apparently the ride over here was only a preview of the mind-screw he was capable of giving. She bit her lip and looked down. His hands came into her view—strong, firm, capable of dishing out probably more than she could ever fathom.
“Hey.”
She looked up at his softly spoken word and straight into his eyes. They appeared just as soft. He raised one of those capable hands and cupped her cheek.
“You have a safe word for a reason. If anything freaks you out, use it. Are you going to use it now?”
She debated her answer. She’d never done the one-night-stand thing before. And that was exactly what tonight with Sawyer would be. He only did temporary. Until now, every single one of her sexual encounters had been within the bounds of a relationship. But something had to change. This weird holding pattern she’d been in ever since Adam... She couldn’t keep thinking about him. Tonight had nothing to do with Adam. She searched Sawyer’s gentle eyes.
And decided.
“No. I’m good. Green, even.”
He raised a brow and studied her face. Apparently whatever he saw there convinced him because his entire body language changed. Gone was the gentle, understanding man from moments ago and in his place a serious taskmaster. He dropped the hand cupping her cheek as his shoulders squared.
“Fantastic.” His lips curved into a cold, confident smile that did some serious mojo to her nerves. “Let’s get started.”
The room Sawyer led her into was like nothing she’d ever seen before. Hardwood floors, crown molding and the opulence of the fixtures were hardly the first things that jumped out at her. Everywhere she looked sex and deviance were on display. On the far side of the room an array of impact toys—floggers, paddles, even some single tail whips—were hung with pride. Against the opposite wall, the largest bed she’d ever seen, complete with black sheets, lay beneath what could only be called a spotlight. In the corner of the room an oversized metal chair sat innocently behind several large beanbag pillows. But the one item that caught her eye and stopped her in her tracks was the large industrial hook in the center of the ceiling. Surrounded by several inset lights, it hung menacingly overhead.
Kyla stopped directly beneath and examined it in wonder. She’d spent so much time reading about suspension ties and knots, wishing she could be one of those gorgeous girls lost in ecstasy and dangling above the room as the ropes held them tight. Her thighs clenched and she shivered.
“Strip.”
Kyla turned around to find Sawyer standing behind her, a black bag at his feet and a stern expression on his face.
“I, uh...here?”
“Yes.”
She gulped as the rising tension sent the butterflies in her stomach into overdrive. But still she felt a distinct tingling between her thighs. Nothing got her engine revving like an in-control man.
“Now.”
She jumped at his barking command and moved into action. Her hands flew to her top, making quick work of the row of buttons. She shrugged off her top, letting it fall to the floor, and went to work on her skirt. Suddenly she was all thumbs. Her fingers became slippery with sweat and her zipper jammed. She tugged and tugged but couldn’t get it to slip free. Frustrated, she turned to Sawyer for help but he only stood there, his hands crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised.
She was beginning to hate that expression.
Taking a deep breath, she wiped her palms on her skirt and tried again. This time the zipper ran cleanly down. Her skirt pooled at her feet and she stood before her dream man in only her bra and thong. She searched his face for a hint of his arousal, but nothing—his stern expression didn’t show any interest. More than anything she wanted to see her own white-hot desire reflected in his eyes, but he appeared to be more angry than aroused.
Instead of distressing her, the look gave her an overwhelming urge to prove herself to him. She would be the best bottom he’d ever played with. Filled with a new resolve, she faced him fully, held his gaze with hers and slowly peeled the straps of her bra from her arms. Reaching behind her, she unclipped the clasp with deft fingers and let her bra fall to the ground. She hooked her thumbs into the elastic at her hips and slowly pulled her thong down her legs until it puddled at her feet.
Instead of standing immediately upright, she wanted to showcase her flexibility, remind Sawyer of her gymnastic background and the interesting implications it could spell for later. She rested her forehead against her knees and took a few bracing breaths. Okay, she might have been stalling. She knew her body was firm in all the right places but it was also small in a few that mattered to some men.
Knowing she couldn’t avoid the inevitable forever, she finally raised her head and looked at him straight on.
He smirked back like he knew exactly what had gone through her mind—both positive and negative. Then his gaze raked up and down her body. She felt his stare as though it were his hands caressing her, lingering here and there. When his gaze stopped on her woefully small chest, her nipples tightened into painfully hard beads as if his fingers were plucking them. Instead of small and insignificant, now her breasts felt full and aching. She wanted more. She wanted to feel him.
Why the hell hadn’t he said anything yet?
She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. The motion made her ultra-aware of her throbbing sex. With each heart-pounding second, her pussy grew damper. He hadn’t even touched her yet and she was already inches away from orgasm.
“Come.”
She blinked. Had he heard her thoughts? Was that why he was such an incredible top? Did he have the Vulcan mind-meld thing down pat or something? Her confusion must have been televised over her face because he repeated the order and pointed at his boots.
Finally understanding his demand, she stumbled her way to his side. No other order was needed. She kneeled next to him with her palms face up on her thighs and waited for his next instruction.
“No.”
She gasped as he grabbed her arm and pulled her up to her feet.
“No. I’m not into the whole bow-before-me shtick. I want you here at my side so I can touch you. Hold you. Bind you in my rope.”
She shivered and had to bite back a moan.
He stepped back to survey her again with harsh eyes. “Gorgeous.”
She couldn’t contain her smile. Her heart picked up rhythm at the lusty promise in his hard expression.
“I’m thinking red. I wanna see you in red.”
She watched silently as he approached the rope wall and grabbed a bundle of red rope. Then he walked over to the hard point she had lusted over earlier. Like Pavlov’s dog, she felt a buildup of moisture in her mouth. Sawyer snapped his fingers and pointed at his boots. Before she could blink she had crossed the room to stand at his side.
“Hands.”
That hard tone in his voice had her plopping her hands in his. He smiled that smug smile of his, and her insides melted a little more.
“You haven’t done much rope play, have you?”
Kyla blinked up at him. “I, uh, what gave me away?”
Sawyer laid the seductively smooth rope over her wrists. She caught her breath as it slid over her skin before he pulled it taut. She felt an answering pull between her thighs.
“A few things. But m
ostly it was that cute, helpless look when you realized where you were.”
Cute and helpless? Kyla didn’t know if she should be insulted or flattered. So she said nothing.
“It was hot as hell.”
Okay then. Kyla couldn’t hold back her saucy smile. Sawyer thought she was hot as hell... The combination of the rope and his confession had her slightly light-headed. And if he looked at her like that one more time, she might just self-combust right there.
Sawyer lifted her bound wrists over her head until she had to stand on the balls of her feet. “A little further.”
On her tiptoes now, she felt the brush of cold steel as he attached her ropes to the big steel hook overhead. Tilting her head to avoid that knowing look in his eyes, she stared over his shoulder at the display of paddles and crops. He had the same one Adam had favored. Long and wide, the black leather was studded on one side with small wicked metal grommets. But she knew without even looking that the reverse side was smooth. Smooth with gorgeously soft leather that could sting like an S.O.B.
She was half aware of Sawyer raising her leg as his rope tied her right thigh to her torso. But in her mind she was back there. With Adam. Seeing that snarl on his lips when he walked toward her, holding that paddle. That last night they were together. The sound of his voice as he barked out a command. The tickle of his chest hair when he’d held her close after she’d had that last intense orgasm.
And then the next day, his broken and bleeding face as he lay in that ICU bed.
Adam was gone. He was never coming back.
She’d never see him again. Feel his arms around her.
He was dead.
Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Tears filled her eyes, and the rope, which had excited her before, felt like a trap.
She couldn’t breathe.
Chapter Five
“Kyla, are you okay?” Sawyer swore under his breath when she didn’t answer. Her eyes were distant as though she was focusing on something only she could see. Hiccupping shudders shook her small frame.
Whatever was going on inside her mind had nothing to do with him or their scene. Acting quickly, he grabbed the scissors at his feet and cut through the ropes binding Kyla. It took a few agonizing minutes to get through all the coils around her wrists. The entire time he cursed himself for missing the initial signs of her stress. But the combination of her tight body, the intricate tie and what he’d thought was her dropping into subspace had screwed with his mind. He should’ve known better. Once she was free, he picked her up and carried her over to the bed.
“Kyla? Can you hear me? Kyla. Look at me!” The edge of steel in his voice brought her eyes to his and the knot in his stomach eased slightly. “Breathe with me, poppet. In and out. In...and out.”
Tears clouded her hazel eyes and tugged at a hidden tender spot inside him. This beautiful, giving woman was hurting, and he was damned if he’d let her leave the room before finding out why.
Finally after a few minutes of breathing exercises, the shudders slowly left her body. But she could no longer meet his gaze. She lay on the bed with an arm thrown over her face.
“Well, that sure killed the mood,” she said wryly as another sob escaped.
Sawyer didn’t say anything. He sat on the edge of the bed and continued to stroke her arm. She would talk when she was ready. He wasn’t about to force her.
“I’m sorry. Crap, I’m so sorry. I’m just... I didn’t... I thought it would be different. I thought you would be different. I picked you because you’re so different. You don’t look anything like him. You don’t talk like him, sound like him. Why the hell did you remind me of him?”
She seemed to be talking to herself more than him. Her rambling thoughts came out in a spewed torrent that didn’t make much sense. Except for the part where he reminded her of someone. And from the sound of it, someone she didn’t want to think of. Was her last top a sadistic bastard? Those types usually left permanent marks, and from his time with her he knew she didn’t have any of the warning signs. But maybe her ex had left scars he couldn’t see.
“Who did I remind you of?” His question came out as a whisper, quiet in the hope that he wouldn’t spook her.
“Adam.” She said with another hiccupping sob. “But you shouldn’t. You’re fair. He was dark. You’re into ropes and threesomes. He was into full protocol and sensation play. You shouldn’t have reminded me of him. You shouldn’t! What the hell’s wrong with me?” Her shudders returned anew, making her shoulders shake with her suppressed sobs. “I should go. I really need to go!”
She turned away from him and made a feeble attempt to get up.
“Nope. Not gonna happen.” Not when he didn’t have a clue what the hell was going on. He grabbed her and pulled her into his side. “See, I have this little rule. No woman is allowed to leave my bed in tears. Unless of course they’re those awesome best-sex-I-ever-had tears. And even then I need some cuddle time first.”
She gave a sad-sounding laugh.
His heart lurched at the forlorn sound, even as he smiled into her tear-soaked face. More than anything he wanted Kyla to know that it was okay and she was safe here. “Now how about we talk about whatever is screwing with your mind? And not in a sexy, fun way.”
Kyla took a deep, shuddering breath. “I, uh, wasn’t exactly honest earlier. My relationship with my last top did end badly, but not in the way I let you think. Adam didn’t abuse me. He died.”
Shudders shook her small frame, and Sawyer could only look on, powerless to make the hurt go away. He’d never come close to the level of pain she was feeling. This wasn’t something he could make all better with a screaming orgasm.
She bit her lip and met his gaze once again. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you from the start. But it’s a lot to unload on someone I just met. And I didn’t want to think about it. I thought I was ready. It’s been two years. I thought you were different enough that I could push him to the back of my mind. Maybe I’m not. Maybe you’re not. Maybe I’m just too screwed up. I’m gonna go. I think I should go.” She braced an arm against the bed to push herself up.
“Don’t.”
She froze at the command.
“Don’t go.” Sawyer rubbed his brow, then turned and reached out a hand to her. “Tell me about him. Maybe it would help to talk about it?”
She gave another sad little laugh and took his hand while her other pulled the comforter tighter around herself. “That’s what my family keeps telling me. But I can’t. Not with them, anyway. They don’t know about my—I mean, our relationship. I mean, obviously they knew we were dating. But they—”
“Don’t know you’re into kink.”
“Yeah. Not exactly a conversation I want to have with my sister.” She shuddered. “Or my dad.”
He laughed. “Yeah, not a conversation I would have with my family, either.”
“It’s different, you know? That was such a huge part of our relationship, but I can’t talk about it with anyone.”
Sawyer brushed the hair from her face. “Tell me about him.”
* * *
Kyla searched his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Adam was a charmer. He could melt me with only one look. He had this quality about him. Everyone wanted to know him. But behind closed doors, he became this charming taskmaster. I’m not explaining it well. He was kind but also harsh. He walked that line of alpha male and smooth talker. He made me want to do things I hadn’t considered before. He could push me right to the edge of my limits and then lure me a little bit past it. He...he was wonderful. He was it for me. I’d found my Prince Charming.”
Sawyer flinched.
“I’m sorry. This is weird for you, right? What am I saying? Of course it’s weird for you. I’m lying in your bed, talking about another guy. I should go.”
“No. It’s fine. I um... I don’t... Fuck, I have my own issues. But it’s fine. As long as you don’t call me Prince Charming.” He shook his head. “But this isn’t about me. What happened to Adam? When did he...”
“Two years and four months ago, I got a call at work. Adam had fallen from the scaffolding at work, five stories above the ground. He was a construction foreman and for some reason wasn’t wearing his fall protection. He was always a bit of a risk taker—he rode motorcycles, went skydiving—but I never thought he would be stupid enough to not wear his harness. When I got to the hospital he was still alive. There were all these machines and tubes. But he didn’t look like Adam. He was broken and bleeding. With all the bandages, I thought—I hoped it wasn’t him. Because I knew... I knew he couldn’t survive. There was too much... It was a miracle he’d even survived the fall. I sat with him as long as the nurses would let me, a few minutes every hour, until his parents arrived. And then things changed.”
Her chest shuddered with her breath and she tilted her head to avoid his gaze. She could hardly bear to remember the next part. She hadn’t thought of it for so long. It was like filleting a mostly healed wound. Her frayed nerve endings still crackled just beneath the surface.
“I’d never met his parents. Adam and I had only been dating a year and they lived in New York, so I was a stranger to them. Not family. Not worthy to hear his prognosis, to give input on decisions. Adam and I had been talking about moving in together but they didn’t know that. Didn’t know me. They wouldn’t let me in. I was sitting in the waiting room a week later when one of the nurses told me he had died. He died, and I wasn’t there. I know he was their son, but he was my everything. I wanted to be there with him but I guess I made them uncomfortable. They didn’t want to grieve with a stranger. And I get that, but they didn’t have to lock me out. I’ll never forgive them for that. I spent a week in the waiting room, praying for a miracle, and after a few days hoping for an opportunity to say goodbye. But I didn’t. Couldn’t. At least not until the funeral.”
Up In Knots Page 5
