Nobody's Hero
Page 7
Adam stared at the window, even though it was still pitch black outside. He planned to stay on full alert until she got out of his bed.
* * *
Karla smiled. She was sleeping in Adam’s bed—and he knew it this time. He hadn’t demanded that she leave, well, not forcefully enough to get her to obey, although he’d clearly wanted her to do just that. She knew Adam’s resolve wouldn’t always be compromised by the recent ordeal he’d survived, so she needed to breach his defenses every chance she could. Perhaps she’d win a place in his affections before he would send her back to her parents’ home in Chicago. No, that wasn’t enough. The mission here was to win a place in his heart.
He’d said he wasn’t going to send her home. She believed him, but also knew that, if he became too threatened by her, he’d put the walls of resistance up even higher. She'd only managed to get through them this time because he had been injured and sick. She’d never be able to batter them down again unless his body and mind were severely compromised again. She shuddered. She’d rather lose him emotionally than to ever have him be that vulnerable again.
She fought to stay awake, in case Adam would awake and need her, but soon her eyelids became too heavy to keep open. She’d just rest them for a minute…
Karla awoke sometime later, shivering from the chill in the air. On her bed across the hall, she had a warm quilt and two blankets. Her body was always cold. Adam’s was just the opposite—always warm. Tonight there was only a blanket and a thin comforter over them, not enough to keep her warm at all.
She turned over to find Adam’s back to her, moonlight streaming across his body from the skylights. His massive back and muscular arms strained against the black t-shirt he wore. The sound of his rhythmic breathing told her he must be sleeping. Maybe if she just moved a little closer, without touching him, she could benefit from his body’s built-in heater. Careful not to disturb him, she rolled over very gently onto her other side, but still found a wide gap between her and Adam’s body.
Too far to feel his warmth, she scooted herself the last couple of feet and began to feel the warmth emanating from his back and legs. The urge to reach out and run her hand along his arm had to be quelled, along with the intense desire to get him to turn toward her. To kiss her. Okay, clearly she hadn’t thought this plan through to its logical conclusion. To be so close and not be able to caress him was torture.
If he didn’t need his sleep so badly, she would have pressed herself against him. Instead, she filled her lungs with a slow, deep breath—just the kind Adam always urged her to take when he needed to calm her down. His woodsy scent filled her nostrils and she felt warmer already. Talking with Adam tonight had filled a hole in her heart she hadn’t even been aware was there. She wanted so much to get to know him better, to share secret hopes and dreams. Did Adam even have dreams for himself anymore? He’d been married so long and had lost his wife to cancer. He’d served his country about twenty-five years, making a career of the Marine Corps. Now he seemed content to run his private kink club and live for the friends he’d brought into his life through the club. But he was only fifty years old. Surely he still had goals to achieve, activities to experience, places to see.
“Karla?”
Her heart tripped over itself as the whisper of her name hung on the early-morning air. She whispered back, “Yes, Adam?”
She watched his shoulders rise and fall with a couple slow, deep breaths of his own. Then he turned onto his back, now just inches from her. She remembered that military men didn’t sleep very soundly. Once, when she’d gone in to wake Ian for breakfast in her loft apartment in the city, he’d nearly jumped out of the bed and tackled her when she’d touched his arm.
Thoughts of Ian put a damper on her libido and brought tears to her eyes. Without waiting for an invitation, she took Adam’s arm, picked it up, and burrowed against his warm skin, laying her head against his shoulder, resting her face on his pectoral, and wrapping his arm around her. How could something as simple as lying against him make her feel so safe?
“What’s wrong, hon?”
She shook her head, not wanting to talk about Ian anymore. “Just hold me, Adam.” He didn’t hesitate and wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her closer.
“I’m here, kitten.”
She was becoming accustomed to the sweet endearment he’d begun calling her. But how long would he be here for her? How far would he allow their relationship to go?
Did they even have a relationship?
* * *
Adam hadn’t woken up to find a woman in his bed in nearly a decade. Now, with Karla, it was becoming a regular occurrence. Why was he finding it so damned enjoyable, when the last thing he wanted was a relationship with her?
He stroked her arm, comforting her from whatever thoughts had disturbed her sleep this morning. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep. When he’d felt her moving toward him, he’d expected another assault on his senses, but none had come. Now why did he regret that?
He’d be glad when he was one-hundred percent strong again. He and Karla had turned a major page tonight. Retreat may no longer be an option. So now what? Hell, she was half his age. What would her parents say if they knew he’d slept with their daughter? They’d taken him in nine years ago on Thanksgiving morning. They’d trusted him to watch out for their daughter when she’d come running to Denver this summer.
Hell, not only slept with her, but he’d taken her virginity as well.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She reached out to stroke his chest. “Are you in pain?”
Only around my heart.
“I’m fine.”
“Would you admit it to me if you were in pain?”
He smiled. “No.”
“I didn’t think so.” Her fingers traced the USMC lettering on his t-shirt, bumping into his hard nipple. “Maybe you’ll feel like coming downstairs today. Angelina’s been stopping by and whipping up the most wonderful meals. And Cassie’s promised a Peruvian feast when you’re feeling better. You need to start eating more.”
“Damned pills killed my appetite, but I’m through with them.”
“I hate to see you in pain, Adam. Please take one if you need to.”
She took her thumb and brushed the nail against his hard nip. He felt his woody grow even stiffer. Taking her hand, he moved it away from his pec and laid it on his upper abs.
Her hand slipped from his grasp and moved over his abdomen, then further south. His dick throbbed even more.
“Karla, you’re heading into dangerous territory.”
“I’ve never been one to play it safe, Adam. I just don’t want to be there alone.”
Why he didn’t stop her, he couldn’t say. When her tiny hand wrapped around his dick, his hips raised up to welcome her.
“You want me, Adam. Admit it.”
“Every man wakes up with a hard-on. It’s natural.”
Her hand stopped moving and she pulled away. He felt her body stiffen against him and hated that he’d hurt her feelings again, but he knew her little exploration needed to stop. Now. He couldn’t let her know how much she turned him on, because he wasn’t about to allow things to go too far this time—or ever again.
“Teach me about being a submissive.”
Again? He thought they were talking about his woody. “We’ve been over this before. You aren’t submissive.”
“Try me.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He sighed. “Because, when I see your parents at Thanksgiving, I want to do so knowing I didn’t introduce you to my world of debauchery.” There. That ought to make her stop and think a minute. When Karla had shown up at his club and he’d called Carl and Jenny to let them know she was okay, he’d promised he’d bring her home for Thanksgiving if she was still working here. The thought of sharing the meal with them knowing he’d debased their daughter just didn’t sit well with him now. It would only get worse if he continued.
Now maybe she’d lay of
f him about BDSM and let him go back to keeping his distance from her—emotionally and physically.
Karla began to giggle, which only made him stiffer, if that were possible. Soon she was laughing so hard her breasts jiggled against his chest, causing his balls to tighten.
“What’s so damned funny?”
“You.”
Ah, just what every man dreamed of, having a sexy woman lying in his arms laughing hysterically—at him. The very least he wanted to know was what she found so fucking funny.
She reached up and stroked his cheek. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
What apple? Whose tree? “Come again?”
“I came home from college a day early for Thanksgiving my sophomore year to surprise Mom and Daddy. I didn’t find them downstairs, so I checked upstairs. I didn’t have the nerve to knock on the door when I heard what definitely sounded like moans of passion and what I now know was a flogger, thanks to the education I’ve gotten here at the club. I just knew from the sounds Mom was making that whatever was going on in there was none of my business, so I snuck back out of the house and froze my ass off for an hour before ‘arriving home’ again.”
Jenny? Submissive? If that were true, then he’d have to concede that maybe…
Karla smiled, then whispered, “Try me, Adam. No, even better, tie me. I want you to tie me up again.”
“Karla…”
“If you won’t, I’ll ask Damián to train me for you.”
Like hell. He’d have to have a talk with Damián PDQ to make sure he didn’t touch her. She wasn’t going to coerce Adam—topping him from the bottom and trying to control or direct him. If she wanted him to be her Dom, he’d…
How could he convince her she didn’t want anything to do with this? She might want him to restrain her with ropes, but he was certain submission wasn’t a deep-seated need for her. It wouldn’t take long for her to realize that.
Well, maybe he just needed to speed up the process a bit—to show her how much she’d hate taking orders, even from him. Sure, she liked restraints, but she hadn’t experienced discipline yet. Hell, if she’d seen the orgasm-torture demonstration he'd done on Grant in the medical theme room at the club—showing an inexperienced Dom his technique for multiple, back-to-back forced orgasms—she’d change her naïve view of BDSM. All she ever saw was what went on in the great room while she was performing.
Remembering how pissed Grant was, he realized he’d have to make sure he didn’t mess around when it came to restraining Karla for a punishment session. Grant would have kicked the shit out of his balls and dick if she wasn’t strapped to the table as well as she had been. He valued his private anatomy and his life too much to mess with her. But Karla also had some serious martial-arts training before college, judging by the move earlier on the patio.
What he needed to do was make being a submissive sound like the most onerous thing in the world to her so she wouldn’t want to have anything to do with pursuing a BDSM relationship with him. Yes, he knew exactly how to do that.
Adam grinned. Hell, when he was finished spelling out the details of his proposition, she’d steer clear of any Dom who ever came near her in the future looking for a sub.
* * *
Karla waited, her fingers playing with his nips. God, they were hard. She wanted to remove his shirt, bend over, and bite one, but didn’t want to break his train of thought. Was he going to let Damián train her? She hoped not, because it would be extremely uncomfortable for her to submit to a man who wasn’t much older than she was. Someone she thought of as more of a brother.
“You will address me as Sir, Master, or Master Adam at all times.”
Karla’s heart thumped against her chest. He was agreeing to train her? Wow. Where had that come from? Who cared? She smiled.
“Yes, Sir.”
“If I tell you to jump, the proper response would be ‘How high, Sir?’”
She knew Adam wouldn’t ask her to do anything she didn’t want to do. Besides, she could do anything for the short-term. How long did scenes last? An hour or two at most? The thought of having Adam’s focus on her for that long sent a thrill through her body.
“Yes, Sir.” Her breathy whisper sounded sexy to her ears. She hoped it sounded that way to him, too.
“I will tell you when and what to eat, when to dress, what to wear, when and where to kneel, sit, lie, or stand. You will focus all of your time and energy on pleasing me because, as a submissive slave, meeting your Master’s needs and wants is the only thing that will bring you pleasure and satisfaction.”
What did he say? “Slave, Sir?” Wait a minute. Who said anything about slave? She just wanted to play at being submissive. More to the point, she just wanted to play with Adam.
“Yes, what I’m proposing is a Master/slave agreement, which is what I had with my wife for a number of years.”
Karla felt a shaft of coldness run through her at the mention of his dead wife. The woman had agreed to that kind of relationship for years? Was she some kind of doormat?
“It’ll be twenty-four/seven. In the lifestyle, this is known as a Total Power Exchange, or TPE. A slave’s main purpose and duty is to be faithful and obedient to her Master and respectful of her Master at all times. You’ll make no decisions for yourself. Everything you do, think, say, feel, eat, wear, etc., will be my responsibility and require my approval. You will respond to my every command without question and will learn to look for ways to please me once you know more about what I enjoy. In addition to what I’ve already said, I also will tell you when to wake, when to sleep, who you can talk to, and what topics of discussion are permitted, when and how to service my sexual appetites and any other needs I want serviced, including housekeeping, yard work, running errands, and so on. I will even have to approve your song list at the club. In other words, I will be in control of everything about you—all day, every day—as long as the agreement is in effect.”
Karla’s heart pounded against her chest. Total submission? Slavery? The words had such negative connotations. Was he for real? How could anyone agree to live like that? How could he want her to agree to that? She thought he liked that she stood up to him, well, up to a point.
He reached over and pinched her nipple until she gasped. “Your body will be my sexual toy to do with as I wish. When you disobey, you will be punished. I will let you express your hard limits and, if I am in the right mood, won’t exceed them—right away. But, as your Master, it will be my pleasure to push your limits fast, hard, and often.”
Back up. What did Adam mean by punished? She shivered at the images of some of the things she’d seen in the great room at the club—everything from severe whippings to hot wax dripped where it didn’t belong to public humiliation. Yet, images of being bound again with ropes, the way he’d done at Marc’s, caused her to grow wet. She hoped he wanted to do more of that.
“If there’s something I’d like you to do, may I ask?”
“No. You’ll learn to like whatever I tell you to like.”
Whoa! Did he just say what she thought he’d said? Angie talked about communication being the key. Negotiation. The submissive held the control in the relationship. But that didn’t sound at all like what Adam was proposing. He wasn’t even going to listen to her, take her preferences into consideration?
“How will you know what I like?”
“I repeat—you’ll like whatever I tell you to like.”
Had Joni been like this for Adam? Is this what turned him on? Maybe that’s why Karla hadn’t gotten him to notice her in all these months. She was too strong-willed. She’d thought he admired that. She’d only ever seen him engaging in rope-bondage scenes with Mistress Grant in the great room. Adam certainly didn’t demand total submission from that Marine, as if he could get it from the kick-ass Domme. Karla had just assumed that meant he was attracted to strong women, like the Grant, who had been his subordinate in Iraq.
Of course, he did scenes with some of the bottoms at t
he club, as did all of the Masters at Arms owners. It was one of the membership perks and brought in unattached members, which made it easier for other members to find new partners. But she didn’t observe though, which often took place in the private theme rooms, fulfilling various fantasies. Who knew what happened in there? And, if it involved Adam and some other sub or bottom, she’d certainly had no desire to watch.
Could Karla become a slave for Adam? She took a deep breath and looked up at him. His moss-green eyes stared back. No hint of a smile. No crinkle in the lines at the sides of his eyes. He wasn’t joking. How could she give up all of her freedom and personality to become that…subservient?
His intense gaze bore into her, sending a strange warmth spreading throughout her. How could she not? This might be her only chance to get Adam to teach her what he loved so much about this lifestyle. Short of selling her soul, there was a lot she could withstand, especially if it would help him see that she was the perfect woman for him. Of course, the thought of a lifetime gig where she had to perform as the perfect slave, well, that was off the charts.
But maybe she could learn to like it, if this was what made Adam happy.
“I could try being your slave, Sir.”
She felt his body tense. Surprise? Had he just been testing her? Well, clearly he had no idea how much she wanted him.
And Karla had no idea what she was getting into, but wasn’t there always a choice in BDSM? If she couldn’t do it, she could safeword, couldn’t she? Then again, maybe she’d better make certain, because she’d never spoken to anyone before about being a slave.
“What if I need to stop? Call it off at some point? You won’t really own me. I mean, this is the 21st Century, after all… Right?”
“Yes, kitten, you can safeword if you decide it’s too intense. That will put an end to the arrangement.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to this question, but had to ask. “If I safeword, then what about the relationship?”