Unexpected Protector (Isthmus Alliance)

by Sloan Johnson

  When Far Behind by Candlebox comes on, I don’t make it through the first verse before tears fill my eyes. It reminds me of how much I’ve hurt everyone around me, including the gorgeous man whose contact I’m craving. I can’t smell his cologne, so I’m pretty sure he’s left me sitting alone in the living room. By the time the song ends, the inside of the mask is soaked with my tears and I’ve scooted back so I’m leaning against the couch, clutching my knees with my arms. I fucking hate feeling like this.

  After rummaging through some cabinets and the fridge, I make my way back to the living room, confident that it’s going to be a good night. That feeling drains out of me the moment I see Holly curled into herself, her body heaving with sobs. I toss the bowl in my hands onto the end table as I race across the room to reach her.

  “It’s okay,” I soothe her, ripping off the mask and pulling her onto my lap. I’m an inconsiderate ass for thinking she was ready for anything like this.

  She buries her damp face into my shoulder, still sobbing as she throws her arms around my neck. “It’s not you,” she assures me, trying to control her emotions. “It was a song. It made me realize how much I’ve screwed things up for everyone.”

  Cautiously, I lift her head so I can look into her rich brown eyes. “You’ve made mistakes, no one is going to lie to you and say that you haven’t. But you’re busting your ass now to make sure that never happens again.”

  The shame consumes her, the same way it did that first day I saw her in Doctor Jeff’s office. No matter how much she tries, I refuse to let her look away from me. It would probably be easier for both of us if we weren’t looking at one another, but we need this moment.

  “Am I wrong?” I ask when she doesn’t respond.

  She shrugs. I hate that simple gesture from anyone. It’s a sign of indifference and there’s very little in life anyone should truly feel indifferent about. “I guess,” she finally answers.

  His lips brush against my forehead, resting there for a moment before he pulls away. I don’t want him to pull away. I want him to kiss his way across my cheek, down to my lips. When he stares at me again, his eyes remind me of warm honey. They’re such a light golden color it’s almost unnatural.

  “You know what I thought of you when I first saw you?” His thumb travels up and down my right arm, tracing the outlines of my tattoos as I try to come up with an answer that won’t upset either one of us. Given his former profession and some of my former pastimes, I can’t imagine his first impression of me was anything positive. Add to that the fact that he sees me as one of the bondage bitches from Marquee and there’s no way he could think anything good about me.

  I don’t know when I last experienced this level of intimacy with a man. Even though I’m no longer crying, he hasn’t released me. It feels comfortable to be curled on his lap this way. As my body relaxes, I look down at the sleeping mask, wanting to get back to what he intended for the night. I’d rather he blindfold me and force me to pleasure him, if that’s what he wants, than have to have a deep conversation while feeding my delusion that I will ever have a healthy relationship. That’s unlikely to ever happen, especially with a man like Tommy Reed.

  “I asked you a question,” he says in a deep voice. I know this game. He’s getting back into the scene and trying to show me that, no matter what I might think, he’s the one in charge right now. That’s fine; we can play if it means halting the introspection time. “Are you going to answer me?”

  Even though I know he’s exerting his Dominance at this moment, it’s completely different from any other Dom I’ve seen. His voice is forceful, yet his grasp on me is filled with kindness. His eyes show no threat. They show compassion.

  “I have no clue, but I’m not sure I want to know, either.” My head falls back against his chest, enjoying the last moments of comfort in his arms.

  “Look at me,” he commands. I do as I’m told. As I lift my head, I’m beginning to see what he’s talking about when he describes loving submission. I don’t feel forced to do what he’s telling me to do. I want to comply. I want to please him. “Why do you say that?”

  I look out the bay window behind the couch while formulating my answer. The cold December evening is dark, the streetlight beyond the driveway magnified by the falling snow. I realize while staring at those falling crystals that I wasn’t always this way. I never wanted to be this way. I swore I would never be my mother, and yet here I am. The only difference being that I’ve managed to avoid sentencing an innocent child to this life.

  “Look at me,” I scoff. “Until recently, you were a cop. It hasn’t been much longer than that since I was a junkie, selling my body to make sure I had my next fix. I lost my apartment, not for the first time, and you and Tasha had to clean it out. I can just imagine what you think of me.”

  “She has nothing to do with this,” Nathan says gruffly as the K-9 unit pulls up behind my squad car. “Please, take her information if you must, but then let her go. She just got a new job and she can’t be late for her first night.”

  The girl with the deep brown eyes stares at him in disbelief. I’m not sure if I believe the ‘new job’ story, but make a snap decision to take down her information and allow her to call a cab. After all, she wasn’t driving the vehicle, she shows no signs of being under the influence and she’s not the type of girl Nathan normally has helping him run drugs. She’s too eclectic. He prefers clean-cut girls who blend into the collegiate crowd.

  “Thank you, officer,” she says sincerely as she ducks into the waiting silver and blue taxi.

  “No problem. Be careful who you’re hanging out with, the next officer might not be as forgiving,” I warn her, turning my focus back to Nathan. I know it’s going to be a long night processing the stash we’ve already found in Nathan Starnes’s vehicle. I’ll never know for sure, but I hope and pray the girl heeds my warning.

  “The first time I met you was over three years ago. You were in a fender-bender and I was the first officer on the scene,” I begin, feeling just a bit creepy about the fact that I can remember so many details about her that day.

  At the time, the only tattoo was a Chinese character on the back of her neck. She had her eyebrow, lip and nose pierced, as well as a neat row of silver hoop earrings lining her right ear. She wore a cute black dress, not necessarily what I would picture anyone wearing to work, but according to the cab company, she was dropped off at the mall, so it’s possible she worked in one of the stores there.

  “What made you unforgettable that day was the look in your eyes. They were filled with a defiant strength; like nothing in the world could keep you down, not even the dumbass cop keeping you from getting to work.”

  Holly’s shoulders slump forward and I know she knows exactly the woman I’m describing. It’s the woman she lost and I intend to help her find again.

  “Was that before the drugs?” I ask her. She bobs her head in confirmation. Taking another chance, I challenge her. “Which Holly Richards are you going to be from now on? The strong woman trying to hold her life together and live better than she was raised, or the junkie who lives up to her parents’ shitty expectations?”

  With the mention of her family, those sagging shoulders square with renewed strength. “I want to be better,” she states firmly. I blow out a sigh of relief, knowing the evening is back on track.

  I lift her off my lap, setting her once again on the floor in front of me. “We’ll start working on that tomorrow, I promise. For tonight, I want you to relax.” I kiss my way from the cap of her shoulder, up to her neck. The thought of keeping tonight from being intimate is gone. She needs the intimacy; it’s where she will learn to draw strength and courage from.

  I replace the sleeping mask over her eyes. Her hands capture mine and she presses her lips against my palms. “Thank you, Tommy.”

  “You’re welcome,” I say quietly as I pull away from her. “You’re kind of a brat, you know that?” I laugh. Without me even realizing it, Holly is regaining c
ontrol of the situation.

  “Why do you say that?” she asks me, feigning innocence. I shake my head, refusing to dignify her with an answer.

  When I’m kneeling before her once again, I lean forward, so close my lips are nearly touching her ear. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re hoping you’ll be punished tonight.”

  I watch her body react to the idea of punishment. Her breathing quickens, her nipples tightening against the thin cotton of her tank top. She shifts her hips from side to side and I know that if I were to dip my hand beneath the waistband of her pants, I’d find her damp and ready for me, despite her emotional state just a few minutes ago. The thought causes me to mimic her movements, shifting uncomfortably to ease the strain within my jeans.

  “I thought so,” I chuckle. “And that’s why you won’t be getting punished tonight.”

  “But you said the sub is in control,” she says sarcastically, fighting to keep the corners of her mouth from turning into a smirk.

  “You are in control,” I assure her. “But that doesn’t mean you’re always going to get what you want.”

  Standing slowly so she won’t feel my movements around her, I quietly pad out of the room. Before we can begin, I need to give her a moment to get out of her own head without my help.

  When I return, the corners of her beautiful pink mouth are pulled tight. Beneath the thin cotton, her nipples are hard as diamonds. The only thing I can think of is how badly I want to draw one into my mouth, tasting her sweetness as she moans my name.

  Shaking my head, I focus on what I need to do. Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley echoes through the speakers as I retrieve the bowl. The song is haunting and meditative. If I had selected a song for this time together, I don’t think I could have picked a better song.

  I take a seat behind Holly, reaching for the hairbrush in my small arsenal. Had I been thinking clearly, I would have done this before blindfolding her. She tenses as the back of my hand makes contact with her neck. Her shoulders jerk when the brush connects with the raven strands, slowly easing with every swipe of the bristles.

  Once her hair is smooth and shiny, I gather it into a low ponytail at her nape, unable to resist the pale skin I’ve just revealed. After one gentle caress of my lips on each side of her neck, I pull away, reminding myself that this is not a sexual exercise.

  “Did you like that?” I whisper in her ear. Her arms are covered in goose bumps despite the fact that the warmth of my gas fireplace blankets us.

  “Yes,” she admits. “But this isn’t very Dominant of you.”

  I know I’m breaking down her walls, crushing her misconceptions, and if I’m lucky, allowing her to see that submitting is nothing to fear as long as you are in a healthy relationship.

  “I disagree,” I say sternly. “If you were my sub, it would be my job to make sure you’re taken care of. Sometimes, that includes something as simple as brushing your hair.”

  I slide across the carpet, leaving her alone again. Her head cocks to the side as she strains to listen for signs of where I’ve gone and what is coming next.

  “Open your mouth,” I command as I sit in front of her, mirroring her posture by crossing my legs beneath my body. She resists and I halfway expect to see her hand reach for the mask. “Holly, you have to trust me. I told you this isn’t about sex and it’s not. Do you trust me?”

  Without a verbal response, I see her lips part tentatively, causing me to smile. It can’t be easy for someone who has never been able to rely on anyone to release that control. I grab a piece of fresh cut pineapple out of a smaller bowl and slowly trace the fruit along her lower lip. When her tongue darts out to collect the juice, I cautiously feed it to her.

  “It’s so sweet,” she sighs, savoring the contrast of the sweet and sour flavors.

  I don’t respond to her statement. Instead, I lean in kissing her chin, allowing my lips to absorb the drops of juice trailing from her lower lip. By the time she swallows, tense anticipation begins to fill her body.

  Not wanting to lose the easy-going vibe, I reach for a soft black throw blanket off the couch. The glowing embers in the fire are doing nothing to ease the chill on her arms. Once she’s safely wrapped in the plush fabric, I slide one arm under her legs, pulling her close to my body. As we sit near the fire, I pull her into my lap.

  “Is that it? Are we done?” she asks, her voice laced with disappointment.

  “We’re just getting started.” She turns her head in my direction. Although she’s blindfolded, I can almost see the question in her deep irises. “Lean forward.”

  I remove my t-shirt and toss it on the ground beside me. I would prefer to lift her tank top over her head so we could sit and listen to the music skin-to-skin, but that would be a bad idea on multiple levels. Not only am I uncertain that I would be able to resist the pull I feel to her if her bare back makes contact with my chest, but she would view that as a sign of me going back on my word. For now, the heat from my bare skin against her clothed back will have to be enough.

  Tommy grips my arms firmly, but without the biting pain that I’m accustomed to. When he pulls me back so I’m leaning against his chest, my breathing becomes quick and shallow once again. I can feel every ridge of every muscle against my back and want to explore them with my hands. Oh, who am I kidding? I would much rather trace those peaks and valleys with my tongue, collecting his salty essence as I go.

  “What are you doing?” I ask him, attempting to twist my body so I can feel his bare skin against my palms. Tommy’s having none of that. He tightens his grip around me.

  When he placed the mask over my face, I expected the blackness to consume me. Instead, sitting here with him, I feel freer than I ever have before. Feeling is still scary, but the emotions he’s bringing out of me are nearly blissful. At this moment, he could ask me to do anything and I would consider it.

  I’ve spent nearly every minute since I awoke scolding myself for feeling anything for Tommy. As the reasons I shouldn’t be here creep into my mind, I push them away, allowing myself to feel something positive for once in my life. Maybe I don’t deserve him, but for this moment, I’m going to let him make that decision.

  The muscles in his torso contract at the tone in my voice. “Are you okay?” he asks in that smooth voice that could melt a glacier. “Do you want to stop?”

  “No,” I say more breathlessly than I intended. “I like sitting here like this. But I have to admit I’m not sure what you’re trying to show me.”

  Tommy’s chest heaves against my back as he laughs. “Does everything have to be a lesson now?”

  “I guess not, but you said you wanted to show me stuff tonight and I don’t know what you’re showing me.” Jesus, I sound like a weak little sap, exactly the type of girl I never wanted to be.

  “Well, if everything I do is supposed to be a learning lesson for you, you might do well to learn that there are times when simply sitting in the quiet, in the dark, completely still, is enough.”

  “Easy for you to say, you’re not sitting in the dark.” I regret the words as I hear them escaping my lips. Even more than regret, I feel a war brewing in my mind because I have never in my life held back on what I wanted to say. Not until Tommy. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, hoping I haven’t pushed hard enough for him to halt this little activity he planned out.

  Instead of releasing me, Tommy’s arms wrap tighter around my waist, his thick fingers grazing my sides over the top of my shirt. I wish he would dip beneath the hem so I could feel him searing my bare skin.

  “You don’t need to apologize, Holly,” he assures me. “When you’re with me, I want you to feel free to speak your mind. Always.”

  “Okay.” My head falls back against his shoulder, content to listen to the music. It’s an eclectic mix, mostly older songs, all filled with angst. I want to ask him why he chose this playlist, but for the moment, I’m going to savor the peace I’m feeling.

  Our bodies sway to the side as Tommy leans over. Despite th
e fact that I’m unaccustomed to being without my sense of sight, I am enjoying allowing my body to move where Tommy takes it. I hear the snick of a bottle cap opening and know we’re moving on with Tommy’s plan.