Bound Beneath His Pain: A Dirty Little Secrets Novel

by Stacey Kennedy

  Done with sitting around and waiting for him to come to his senses, I approach the bouncer, standing in front of the wrought-iron door. His tailored suit tells me this club is upper-class and not some shady place tucked away in a back alley.

  When I reach the wide-shouldered, dark-haired bouncer, he gives me a very thorough once-over before his amused eyes lift to mine. “I take it you want a tour?”

  Part of me wants to be insulted that I look so innocent I couldn’t possibly be a member. The other part of me knows that within these walls, surrounded by these uninhibited people, I imagine I’m nearly virgin-like in their eyes. “I’ll start with a tour,” I tell him.

  He smirks, dark eyes roaming me again from head to toe. “You’re interested in possibly gaining membership, then?”

  “Possibly.” I smile back, not letting this tough, confident guy knock me off my game. If I need to become a member to get a view of the kinky sex that Micah enjoys, then that’s what I’m going to do.

  Eyes on me, the bouncer taps a button on his earbud then says, “Code 120.”

  I assume Code 120 is short form for single girl who shouldn’t be here.

  We begin having a staring contest as the seconds draw on, and I’m feeling the rising heat in my face, because this guy knows, and I know, I’m in way over my head here, but then I notice something odd. The camera lens over the guy’s shoulder is zooming in on me.

  “Copy,” the bouncer says, snapping my focus to his scruffy face. He steps back, folding his arms, being quite the commanding presence. “Wait right here a moment.”

  “Okay.” I force myself not to gulp.

  Awkward seconds tick by, while I refuse to lose the staring contest. Then the main door swings open, and I cannot stop the widening of my eyes as Juliet comes rushing out, the door slamming shut behind her. “You should not be here.” She grasps my arm, yanking me away from main entrance.

  Once we’re past the corner, she swings around to face me and her glare is as fierce as her voice is firm. “What were you thinking? What if you were photographed?” She’s glancing around, looking for flashes of lights, I assume, before her glare returns to me. “You must leave. Now.”

  “I wasn’t followed. Believe me, I checked.” I cross my arms, forcing my mind quiet and standing strong. “And well, you shouldn’t have told me what you did the other night, so we both don’t seem to listen to Micah very well, do we?”

  She’s studying me hard before she slowly begins to smile. “Micah was right. I do like you.” The tightness leaves the corners of her eyes with her long exhale, and she places one hand on her tiny waist. “Fine. What do you want? And be quick about it.”

  The streetlight is giving her skin a warm glow, and I guess I’m a little surprised to see her dressed in a modest cherry-red blouse and black A-line skirt, considering the place she came out of. “I want a tour of the club.”

  “Why?”

  I stay quiet while a couple passes us on the street and enters the club before shrugging at her. “Because I have a thousand things running through my mind about what all this is”—I wave at the club—“all about. I, for one, want to sleep tonight, and until I know that Micah doesn’t want to jab me with some cattle prod, that will never happen.”

  Her mouth twitches. “A cattle prod?”

  “It does fall under the kinky sex umbrella.”

  “It does,” she agrees, “but that’s not Micah’s particular brand of kink.”

  I give a firm nod. “Which is exactly why I’m here.”

  She pauses, watching me closely again. “You want to understand him?”

  “I do.”

  She visibly exhales, lowering her hand from her hip. “I cannot let you go inside the club. Micah would never forgive me.”

  I sigh in frustration, but can’t fault her. In fact, I kinda like her showing loyalty to Micah. It makes me like her, regardless that I know she’s slept with him. “Okay, then you can do one better. Tell me what you do for him.”

  Her brows shoot up. “You want to hear about my experiences of having sex with Micah?”

  “Not in detail, of course,” I correct her, nearly gagging on her pretty shoes. Micah’s not the only one who can be a top-notch professional. Tonight I have on my get-the-job-done hat. “But I want to understand the man he’s been with you.” I don’t even know why, not truly. I only know I need these answers.

  A long second of silence passes before she addresses me again. “We’re not doing this standing on the street.” She spins on her heels, heading in the opposite direction. “Come on, let’s grab a coffee.”

  I blink in surprise that she’s actually going to talk to me, and follow her as she moves toward the Starbucks down the street. But as we get closer to the coffee shop, I realize, thinking all this over now, that Juliet’s another person in the short list of people who love Micah and want him to be happy. It’s funny in a way that everyone is doing all they can to keep me in Micah’s life, but he’s pushing me away. I’m not even pretending to understand the why’s of Micah’s mind. Right now I’m trying to figure out what I don’t know first.

  Baby steps, I remind myself as we enter the small Starbucks, a handful of people sitting at the tables.

  Within only a few short minutes, Juliet has a cappuccino and I have a strawberry smoothie, and we’re sitting at the corner table by the big window, away from listening ears. The folk song playing through the speakers above us reminds me of the one that band was playing at O’Keefe’s that night.

  While I stir the straw in my drink, Juliet takes a sip of her coffee. “All right,” she finally says, wiping the foam off her top lip. “What do you want to know?”

  A thousand questions rush through my mind. I stick to the most important. The ones I need to know, letting go of the questions that don’t really matter in the long run. “Does Micah go to his club?” Because if he’d been sleeping with other women while with me, then that’s a done deal. I’d leave this seat right now and never look back.

  “No,” she replies, softly, and I sigh in relief as she lowers the mug to the saucer. “He never has, and that’s not who he is.”

  “Then who is he?”

  She pauses to really consider my question. “He’s a complicated man, one I haven’t completely figured out yet. He’s not a Dominant in the sense where he needs a submissive woman to fulfill him. He likes to hold the power but it’s a natural thing for him, more than it’s something he practices for a sexual fantasy.” She waits for the employee cleaning the table across from ours to leave before adding, “In regard to kink, I’d say he lingers on the lighter side. So, no, you don’t have to worry about cattle prods.”

  “Dog cages?” I inquire.

  “No.”

  “Beatings?”

  “No.”

  “Blood?”

  She laughs, shaking her head at me. “You’re safe. He’s what we like to call a Gentleman Dom.”

  “Which is?”

  “Exactly what it sounds like. A perfect gentleman who has dominant traits, which is what Micah is. He’s gentle when you need that from him, but he’s rough, more controlling, more dominant, when he needs that for himself.”

  I consider what she’s told me, stirring my straw in a large circle within the plastic cup. Something doesn’t add up. “Explain this to me, then: if he’s not into something more extreme, then why is he so worried about this getting out?”

  “That’s been something I’ve wondered myself,” Juliet explains, her hands hugging her mug. “His desires aren’t as dark as he believes them to be. I think that somewhere along the line things got confused for him. His desires are something he runs from and something he fights. The only time we were together was when it became too much to bear and he needed to calm this thing he fights inside of him.”

  “You’re saying that kinky sex isn’t fun for him?” I ask, confused. “Like, he hates it?”

  She nods slowly. “I’ve seen the look in his eyes after. It’s not something he�
��s proud of. It’s not something he enjoys, but it’s definitely something he needs, and that’s what he is aware of.”

  I frown. “If he doesn’t like kink, then why would he need to keep doing it?”

  “Why does anyone need anything?” she asks with a soft laugh. “It’s simply a part of who he is, what his body wants, and what his soul craves.”

  I’m not sure why that registers so intensely with me, but it does. Maybe it’s a new way of seeing Micah or maybe I’m simply accepting him now. But Juliet’s words make me realize that this is yet another thing that Micah hasn’t been able to accept about himself, because people he loved told him he couldn’t. “What else do you think his soul craves?”

  “You.” She gives me a soft smile, and her affection for Micah warms her expression. “But I don’t think his soul simply craves you, I think you’re precisely what his soul needs, Allie.”

  Chapter 19

  Allie

  Please come to the carnival.

  No emails. No texts. Micah didn’t call all day yesterday…until now, the following evening, nearly thirty-three hours after Darius gave him my donation to Holt’s Hope. God, I wanted to call him or go see him in his office all day today. But I couldn’t do this for him. I wouldn’t. He had to pick us.

  I park my car in the open spot next to rows of cars near the entrance, trying to decrypt his message. Yes, I expected my note would affect him, especially the don’t make me wait too long, because that’s what his note once said to me. He fought for me. Now I was fighting for him. I hoped that sparked something inside of him, showing him I’m not the same person as Clara. But the carnival is the last place I thought he’d request my attendance.

  My heart begins banging against the walls of my chest when I exit the car and hurry through the main gate, noticing an empty ticket booth. I need to get to him. It’s an energy pulling me forward. Almost like a part of myself is missing and I’ve got to find it or I’m going to fall down the rabbit hole and be lost forever.

  The sun is beginning to set, the sky turning beautiful pinks, purples, and oranges, and I’m searching for the man on my mind, heading down the pathway toward the carnival. Loud young voices and laughter carry across the night air. The carnival is bustling and the crowd of children and grown-ups are rushing by me in a blur, until I finally recognize someone.

  Liv’s standing near the ring toss, with a huge grin on her face. “Well, look at who’s finally arrived,” she drawls when I reach her.

  “What’s going on?” I scan the crowd, recognizing other people now, too. Employees from Holt are here, as well as some of the children I’d met at Holt’s Day. Nose scrunching, I turn to her. “What is this?”

  “This,” says Liv, waving out at the carnival, “is what your donation to Holt’s Hope did. Micah bought out the carnival for the night, and in your honor opened it to Holt employees and their families, as well as the kids in his charity.” She gestures toward the photographers moving around the crowd and taking shots. “Expect to be mentioned in every magazine tomorrow.”

  “A good reason to be in the tabloids,” I decide, instantly realizing what Micah’s done. My secret is exposed, yes. But it’s exposed in the best possible light. He’s showing the world something I love, and somehow that makes me love it more. “A perfect reason, actually,” I finish.

  Liv agrees with a nod. “Yup, and then there’s this little thing we also need to discuss.” She holds up the tabloid magazine Gotcha!, which shows a picture of Micah and me dancing together, with the headline: Billionaires unite. Micah Holt’s mystery woman is none other than Darius Bennett’s half-sister. I cringe and glance into her eyes, watching them narrow. “So, your half-brother is Darius Bennett, huh?”

  I nod.

  “And you’re rich?”

  I expect a clench of my chest or my palms to grow sweaty, but that’s not what happens. I breathe a sigh of relief that the truth is finally out there. It’s like a million-pound weight is off my shoulders. The tabloids, the public eye, the scrutiny, I realize now I’m okay with all of this. Heck, I love my life and I’m proud of it, because it’s mine. I half shrug and grin. “Maybe a little rich.”

  “A little?” Liv scoffs, smacking my arm with the magazine. “Giving a million dollars away to a charity makes you a helluva rich woman.”

  “Ouch. Okay.” I rub my arm, soothing away the sting. “I’m a lot rich.”

  Her hands go to her hips, glare very much there, as the blue and green lights from the ring toss dance across her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I…” I take a deep breath and then I let the truth out. “Please don’t be mad. It’s not because I don’t love or trust you. It’s my insecurity. I wanted you to see me, not the money.”

  Liv frowns. “You thought I would be after your money?”

  “No. No, of course not.” Sometimes our biggest fears are self-made—I’m beginning to realize by Liv’s scowl, instead of glassy, money-hungry eyes, that I made a big mistake. “But people change when they know about the money. They don’t see me anymore; it overshadows who I am. And, well, when we became friends, and you didn’t know about Darius and everything, it was nice, you know. You were the first new friend I had in a long time that actually saw me and wanted nothing from me but my time.”

  Liv glares for a few seconds longer before she throws herself at me, wrapping me in a tight hug. “You know I adore you to pieces and love everything about you.” She pauses, stepping back, then laughs softly. “Well, maybe I would’ve expected a seriously nice Christmas present for being the best assistant ever.”

  “Santa will do better. Promise,” I reply, even though I know she’s joking. But maybe it’s time to spoil Liv with some new Louis Vuitton high heels. Because if I’ve learned anything from all this, it’s that living in the past gets you nowhere but remaining in the shadows of pain, instead of seeing things standing right in front of you.

  I can’t live like that anymore.

  I won’t.

  Loud, squealing children catch my attention and I glance up at the Ferris wheel. Hands are waving in excitement and smiling faces is all that I see. My heart warms, feeling good about this. Hell, feeling good about me. I refuse to regret not having done this sooner. But I’m going to make sure I do it again…and again…until the money runs out.

  “Oh, shit, I almost forgot,” Liv quips, snapping my attention to her. “There is a reason that I’m standing here waiting for you. It’s not only to interrogate you.” She gives me her classic Liv smirk, waggling her eyebrows at me. “Micah asked me to tell you to meet him where you were before.”

  “Did he?”

  “Oh, yeah, he surely did, and he’s all focused and serious, with a special little twinkle in his eye.” She steps in behind me and pushes me forward. “Go. A hunky billionaire is waiting for you, so get that fine ass of yours over there.”

  I chuckle, striding off and wiggling my hips, sending Liv into a fit of laughter. I absorb the happiness in the air, and it feels tangible as I pass the ringing of the Tilt-a-Whirl. I feel that pull again with each step, needing to get toward only one place, toward one person, as I’m heading down the same path Micah and I walked before. It feels like a lifetime has passed since that first night out together. And maybe, in a way, a lifetime has gone by, because I know I’m not the same women I was when I first walked this path with Micah.

  I round the corner, seeing the sparkling lights of the Golden Gate Bridge.

  Then I find him.

  The strongest, most broken man I’ve ever known.

  But I realize he’s not the only broken one.

  We’ve both come from pasts that could’ve broken us completely, and yet I can’t help but feel that they somehow had to happen, to make us. That without the one side, the other wouldn’t have been fulfilled. It makes me think that life is this big circle that’s been spinning in the wrong direction for a while, and right now, in this moment, our lives are going to correct themselves.

 
; I stop a few feet away from him sitting on the bench we sat at on our date, staring out at the bay. My entire being narrows on him. The sounds, the smell, the view, it’s all gone, as he becomes everything. I’ll never know what it is about this guy that makes my heart race, body burn, chest nearly explode, but it’s one of those things that’s unexplainable in this crazy, big world.

  “Micah,” I call out.

  He glances over his shoulder and my mouth hastily shuts as my body suddenly becomes his with a single look. That’s when I realize my life is going to be defined in only two ways.

  The time before Micah.

  And the time after this conversation.

  Micah

  Neither the carnival nor the crowd can distract me from the beauty standing before me. I rise from the bench, moving to Allie, pulled by something I’ve never been able to control. I need her. I need to be closer to her. I need to have her in my arms. It’s more than a yearning; it’s a necessity, like that air I need to breathe.

  There’s no noise around me. There are no people holding my attention. She’s all I see. That smile of hers is all I can pay attention to when I reach her. The same smile I saw the first day I met her, as well as the smile that changed me as a man and altered my priorities.

  I reach up, cupping her face, embracing the way my muscles tighten to protect her. “You still want me, even after everything I’ve done.” I ask her the one question I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. “Why?”

  “Because you fought to have me, Micah. You fought for me to see you. Then when I did, you were all I wanted, too.” She leans sweetly into my hand, her voice softening, easing the chill within my chest. “You’re all I see. All I feel. All I crave. All I need.”

  I am lost in her those soulful eyes of hers, the thundering of my heart banging in my ears. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand why you care for me like you do, or how you can look past all the broken pieces to find something to love.”