by Piper Malone
How long can I be a coward? When will Blake finally have enough of my hesitations and find someone who doesn’t second-guess her willingness to meet him at Reign? Oh wait, he already has.
Maybe this is for the best. If we stop this now before too much time has passed, it won’t be as difficult.
Who am I kidding? Walking out of Reign without him was the worst. How can I move through the rest of my life with the memory of Blake hovering in my mind?
This sucks. I suck. I walked away from Blake when he was beaten to shit because I’m afraid.
Why now? Why did I choose to back down from this situation? I’ve fought my demons with precise actions and fierce determination. The same determination that Blake possesses when he fights for me.
I’m an ass. I pull on my softest leggings and wash away the tears before heading out to Reagan and Caleb’s apartment. It’s only a week before she’s home and I can send her a quick text, but I can’t wait. Once I’m at their place, I gather the mail, toss it on the counter, and head straight to the office.
Twenty minutes later, sitting in the middle of six books, all documenting the art of BDSM, I’m intrigued. It looks beautiful, thoughtful. Similar to my experience with the Internet, some of the pictures make me cringe, but none of them make me want to run. The checklists of limits are endless. Reading over them, there are a lesser number of acts I would disagree to and a surprising number I would be fine with, as long as it was with Blake.
I grab three volumes that I want to explore in the safety of my own home. I scribble a quick note for the librarians letting them know I’ve borrowed their resources and leave Chateau Dunn. Of course, because I’m a glutton for punishment, I drive past the walk-up.
For a moment, I swim in the fantasy that everything will be okay. My past will sit down in the dark corner it’s been relegated to for years and stay there. Blake will accept my fractured pieces and be patient with me. I hope that he can love me or at least let me love him. Could I accept that he might need to find someone else to fulfill his needs? A flash of possessiveness makes me want to scream. How can I want to make a life with someone and yet want to pummel them at the same time? Is that love?
I pull over and fall into the consuming, beautiful daydream of Blake and me living in the house. In the dream, we’re together. The soft, romantic glow that signifies happiness and joy in every sappy romance movie surrounds us. Life in our home is good. Perfect.
What if our fights would always unfold like they did today? An argument that doesn’t evolve into throwing things or name calling. It would be easier to walk away from Blake if he morphed into every other guy I dated and pointed out all my flaws, but he didn’t. The more I thought about it, the more I was willing to understand what he was doing with Skyler. I’m still hurt, but more that he kept a secret like that, not that he tried to help her. Then I vacillate back to the honor bondage. Blake knew what he was doing and kept me in the dark. How can I trust someone who doesn’t tell me his thoughts, especially when my body is involved?
But how will I know how much I can trust him until I try? If I give him my body and he treats it with care, will my mind finally accept what my heart already knows?
He’s worth it. Blake would take risks for me. He would push himself past his comfort zone to try for me.
The memory of our very first sleepover flashes through my mind. He held me so tight and I could have crushed his balls in my hand. This isn’t how I typically play but I’m open to new experiences. Blake would have let me be rough with him. He would have given himself over to me if that was what I wanted. He trusts me. Today threw me for a little loop, but I have to believe his intentions. I could give him access to my body, he would keep me safe. It’s never something I would allow anyone else to do. Blake is different.
Holy fuck… I love my boyfriend.
The realization makes my brain whirl with the possibilities. Our lives entangled, bound to each other. A home. Marriage. Could we have kids?
A wave of deep heat crashes over me, anxiety and need swirling together and threatening to drown me.
One thing at a time. I really should get comfortable with the concept of an erotic spanking before I have us walking down the aisle. I picture a wedding dress, him poured into a tux waiting to receive me, and I swoon. Seconds later, I’m over his lap, his rough hands caressing my naked backside. A jolt of sharp lightning zips from behind my clit into my chest and steals my breath.
Thankfully, a text from Nicole saves me from touching myself in the middle of the afternoon in my car.
Check your email. Drinks are on me.
I hit the app to open my email and see a mass message from Mr. Achenbach, subject line: Congratulations Katya Boytsov!
I can’t believe it. I won.
Chapter 24
Blake
I don’t want to be that mooning sap that watches the clock, but it’s been five hours. Some of the worst three-hundred minutes I suffered in a long time. She left and it’s been excruciating. The pain of my beaten face has reached an all-time high. Tylenol only did so much, so I moved on to beer. Listening to Ax yammer about all the ways I fucked up made me wish Nick had knocked me out for good. Trying to figure out what to do next has turned into an endless rat race. She holds all the answers to this problem.
“So, are you guys over?” Ax asks without looking at me.
“Why? You interested?” I counter. I’ve had enough of him today.
“No, shithead,” he snarls. “I like her—not like that, don’t give me that pissy look—and I want her to be happy. If she’s dumb enough to want to look at you for days on end, I’ll be glad to help you get your head out of your ass.”
“She left me, dickhead.”
“You didn’t talk to her!” he roars. “What is your problem? You know how this works. Why are you so fucking stupid?”
If I didn’t feel so horrible, I’d tell Ax to meet me outside. I don’t have the will to fight anymore today. “I thought—”
My phone vibrating against the hardwood bar stops Ax from continuing his tirade. Kat’s name on the screen makes my stomach plummet. “Well,” I say to Ax, “this could be it.”
He grabs his beer, tipping it toward me before leaving the bar.
I slide my finger across the screen. “Hey, doll.”
“Hey, stud. Are you home?” Her voice sounds far away.
“No, I’m still at Reign. I’m taking care of the stuff Nick didn’t.”
“Okay,” she says quietly. “Can we talk?”
“I’m all ears. Shoot.” I grab another beer, ready to nurse the gaping wound my girl is about to make.
She lets out a long breath before asking, “How’s your face?”
“It hurts,” I say.
“I’m sure,” she replies before a strangled groan emits from her end of the line. “This sucks… Look, Blake, we can’t continue like this.”
“And?” I’m not willing to say the words. She needs to be the one to try to end this. I’m not suggesting a fucking thing.
“I’m really hurt you didn’t talk to me about Skyler. For me, it falls into the category of not telling me about the honor bondage. I won’t be lied to, Blake.”
“First of all, I didn’t lie about Skyler. You never knew—
“You were with a naked woman, Blake!” she screams. “The only naked woman you should ever be with is me!” I can hear her huff and her feet hitting the floor of her apartment as she storms up and down the hall. “Never again, do you understand me? Never!”
Her anger is justified, but her forgiveness is unnerving. She’s going to let this go? “No naked women, gotcha.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“What?”
“Answer it. I need to know. Now.”
“I can’t believe you need to ask me that question, Kat. You saw everything there was to see! I know you’re upset, but I would never violate you like that.”
“Just like I would never cheat on you with Ax?” Her qu
estion is tinged with I-told-you-so.
I walked right into her trap. She knew where she wanted this conversation to go, and I followed her breadcrumbs.
“Fuck me,” I mutter before taking a long pull from my beer. “Fine. I get it. No, I did not sleep with Skyler. We’ve talked about this type of a scene before. She needed a release, and Nick wasn’t an option for her. I thought I was helping a friend and you should have been aware.”
“Is there anyone else?”
Her questions, while justified, are pissing me off. “No, Katya,” I grind out between gritted teeth, “there is no one else.”
“Just to remind you, we made a boyfriend-girlfriend deal on the lawn of your parent’s house. I expect you to follow the confines of that agreement.”
I snort a laugh thinking about rolling around in the grass. “I respect your argument. I am sorry, doll. I thought I could help her without hurting anyone else.”
“One of the other things that bothers me is that she was a way to soothe your own needs,” she says, her gusto for the argument tempered for the moment.
“Well?”
“I think I’m okay with trying,” Kat whispers.
Fifteen minutes ago, I was trying to come up with a plan to win her back and now she’s agreeing to stay. “What?”
“I went to Caleb and Reagan’s house and got some books,” she says quickly. “I have a checklist.”
“Those are the sexiest words I have ever heard. Thank you.”
“Blake?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m scared,” she mumbles. I can tell she’s nibbling on the pad of her thumb.
“I can understand that, Katya. Please know I will take such good care of you.”
“Okay,” she blows out a breath, “now I need to talk to you about some other things.”
That weird feeling after a fight settles over me, the one where you try to ease back into the normal routine of life but you’re still sore from the battle. “Sure, doll. What’s up?”
“I want to buy a house.”
“Where?”
“Down the street from Reagan and Caleb. It’s a little townhouse. A starter home.”
“I think that’s a great idea.” I’m relieved she’s not planning to move too far away. She’ll be closer to me if she moves.
She talks about the house and her ideas for making it her own. Truly, she could turn a refrigerator box into a castle.
“When do you think your face is going to look normal again?” She tries to cover her giggle and fails miserably.
“Not funny, Kat.”
“I know, but I was mad and it made me just a little happy to see you get punched. Nick really lost his shit.”
I scoff at her statement. “He laid me out in the parking lot. He went nuts.”
“Yeah, he didn’t look like he would talk rationally about anything at that point.” she says absently. “Well, once your face heals, you need to take me out to a nice dinner.”
“An I’m-very-sorry-for-what-I-did-so-you-should-order-the-lobster dinner?”
“No,” she replies, “a congrats-you-won-the-bid dinner.”
“You talked to me for this long and didn’t tell me you won the bid? C’mon, Kat! That’s mean!”
“I just needed to make sure we got our garbage in line before we moved forward.” She hesitates. “Be patient with me, okay. This is all very new.”
“I’m here, Kat. As long as we keep talking, I’m willing to be patient.” The pent-up anxiety from the day lessens when the hope of a future with Kat seems so clear. “Will you go out with me looking like an MMA champ? I think we need to celebrate.”
“How about I bring some bubbly to your place. I want our party to be exclusive—two person maximum.”
“That sounds perfect. I’ll see you in twenty.”
She signs off and before I hang up, I have to bite back the words love you.
Chapter 25
Kat
The risotto I had for dinner was amazing.
Maybe we can go there again after the press conference for the Daily Five Alarm.
I should really take a class to make sure I’m doing my taxes correctly.
When was the last time I dusted?
Maybe hiring a housekeeper would be a fun indulgence.
I wonder if there is really a difference between tapioca and rice pudding—it’s all the same goop, right? Just different crap mixed in.
“Where the hell are you?”
Blake’s voice snaps me from the psychotic carousel keeping me from the reality of my life. I lower my hand from my mouth, the flesh of my thumb tight from the pressure of my teeth. It’s a horrible habit.
Maybe I should see a psychologist about stopping bad habits like finger biting, and smoking, and making lewd comments about half-dressed men. Who am I kidding? There’s no cure for ogling men. I’d send any professional to their grave with that challenge.
“I’m not going to ask you again, Kat.” Blake’s redirection is kind, almost loving, but I sense he’s tired of my wandering mind.
“I’m a little nervous.” The words flow, surprising me. The comfort of sharing my feelings with Blake has expanded over the past few days. The conversations about what I would be willing to do, how we could proceed, made this moment seem like no big deal. That was until we were at the point in the evening where my intentions to try were called to task. Now I’m an anxious mess.
His warm smile eases me slightly. Blake’s calm, confident poise creates a heat deep in my chest. “I can tell. I promise, tonight will be fun. Just try, okay?”
“Can we get started then?” I scoot toward the bedroom in an effort to seal my fate before I realize I’m being presumptuous. He’s in control of this, so he can tell me to go anywhere. Oh God, please not the kitchen. The sink is full of my breakfast dishes. The bananas are black. I ordered takeout last night and the garbage still smells like garlic. Then it hits me. I’m a fucking wreck.
“Holy shit…” The words hiss from behind clenched teeth, my hands gripping and shaking the imaginary dragons holding my serenity at bay.
“What’s wrong, doll?” The man poised to give me a chance at trying to submit leans against the wall, one leg lazily crossed over the other. He’s relaxed and slightly entertained by my freak out.
“I’m officially the worst girlfriend ever, Blake! That’s what’s wrong! I’m scared. I want to call this off. My trash stinks. I don’t know what’s going to happen, which is exciting and so outside of my comfort zone I don’t know if I can take it.” My fingers pull at the perfectly coifed hair I spent an hour on before he picked me up for dinner.
“Katya, all you have to do tonight is feel.” Blake’s voice, unwavering and smooth, pushes against the jagged emotion piercing me from the inside.
“I already feel so much,” my weak voice challenges. “What if I can’t do this?”
“You already are. You’re telling me your worries. Let me take them off your hands.”
I rock back and forth on my heels. “Do I have to call you something special when we do this?”
He gives me a tight smile. “Not tonight. Tonight I want you to call me by my name. Tonight is about you and me.”
I nod my head, lips pressed together. I have to try.
“I can see your worry, but I also see your resolve, Kat. You are beautiful.”
“I don’t know if that’s the right word—”
Swift, powerful steps eliminate the space between us. “It is the right word because it’s the truth,” he asserts. “You need to work on accepting a compliment.”
Blake’s pointed statement is uncomfortable to hear. “I didn’t mean to say you were lying. I’m not used to hearing those words. I don’t always think about myself in that way.”
His large hands cradle my face, strong and gentle. “Kat, the best thing about a relationship like ours is being this close. It means I can remind you of the strength and beauty you possess, even if you forget it’s there.”
&n
bsp; The words, the idea, sinks in. He sees more in me than I can recognize. Blake wants me.
“I will work on accepting the compliments.” I breathe in, his musky scent pushing away the thoughts and fears that gripped me so tightly. “I want to do this.”
“Good.” He smiles and wraps his hands around mine, pulling me toward my bedroom.
Once inside, Blake stays me at the foot of the bed before adjusting the room to his liking with an unhurried, but methodical, pace. The door closes, followed by the curtains. The only thing keeping the room from total blackness is the light from the outside lamppost seeping through the thin drapery. He arranges the pillows against the center of the headboard. The shadowed room flares with light, the snap of a match hitting sandpaper drawing my attention. From the corner of the room, Blake holds a single match between his fingers before lighting a candle. He repeats the steps until the room pulses with the sensual glow of candlelight.
Blake stands back, surveying the room briefly before returning to me. “Thank you for waiting for me, doll. Your patience is appreciated.”
I didn’t even realize I was doing something good. “You’re welcome,” I offer, a little unsure of what to say.
“Are you ready to begin?”
“Yes.”
My single word causes his chest to expand in a deep, satisfied breath. “I’m going to talk to you about what is going to happen tonight, Kat. I need you to listen and talk to me. I will ask you questions and you need to respond. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Blake.”
“Perfect.” He leans forward, laying a light kiss on my forehead. The affection is sweet, calming. “Tonight is about feeling, Katya. My skin, my body, against yours.”
I snort, arms crossing over my chest. “Don’t you think we’ve done that already, Blake?”
His head cocks to the side, eyebrow raised. He doesn’t have to shout his annoyance, it’s all over his face. Crap! “Sorry,” I mumble. “Please continue.”
