by Sienna Blake
“Somebody kicked your cat or what?” Mick’s gruff voice cuts in through the sound of leather hitting leather and my own rhythmic breaths.
“Don’t. Want. To. Talk about it,” I say between hard punches that make the bag swing erratically.
Mick grunts as he holds the bag steady for me. “Maybe you just need to get laid.”
I swing wildly, and Mick jumps back before I can pummel him. “Jesus, woman. I was just joking.” I hear him mumble under his breath, “Bitches are crazy.”
I glare at him, causing him to raise up his hands in surrender before I refocus on the bag. I am not in the mood.
He lets me bash away for a few more minutes before he says, “Alright, hurricane. How ‘bout I put you through a circuit. We’ll see if we can’t wear some of that PMS out of you.”
I’ll fucking show him PMS. I imagine the bag is Mick and I grab it, giving it a couple of wallops with my knee before slamming my fist into where the groin would be. I turn to Mick and slam my gloves together. “Show me watch you got, old man.”
He grins. A small part of me curses at myself for the punishment I know he’s about to inflict.
And inflict, he does. My muscles groan and strain with every power-filled movement, fighting to generate explosive energy at fast as I’m depleting it. In less than twenty minutes I’m drenched and my chest is heaving, hands on knees as I try to suck in enough oxygen. Mick is looking pleased with himself although he keeps rubbing his throat. I’m not surprised with all the yelling he has done at me. “Move faster, you sorry sac of weasel guts. Jesus Christ. You couldn’t scare kittens with those soft-ass punches. Aim for the pads, the God damn pads. What? Did my feckin’ beauty blind ya? The pads, you poodle.” Yup, he certainly is a creative one when it comes to dishing out motivational quotes. It works for me. I’m numbed and it is bliss.
As my breathing starts to subside and the lactic acid pain drains away from my muscles, the tension starts to resurface. No. I’m not numb enough yet.
I stand up, suck in another breath and say, “Again.”
Mick’s eyes flash wide with surprise before he shakes his head. “Fucking animal,” he mutters under his breath.
You’d better believe it, Mickey boy. I’m going to wear your throat out before you wear me out.
I finally stop after three rounds. Mick’s voice is almost gone. More importantly I feel better. More in control. Just.
I drop onto a bench and spray some water down my throat. Some of it gets on my face and neck. It contrasts with the heat which burns like a furnace inside me. I needed this. I lean back against the wall and close my eyes.
I feel the bench move as Mick sits down next to me. When I open one eye at him, I notice he seems uncomfortable for some reason, twitchy. So I just wait. Give him space. Mick… sometimes he needs some space.
Eventually he speaks. “So, kid, if you ever need to tell me anything…” he trails off.
I raise an eyebrow at him.
He scowls. “I’m not saying you should come over so we can talk and drink tea and I’ll plait your feckin’ hair. Just, if you’re ever in trouble. Or whatever. You let me know.”
I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips. Underneath the gruffness is a sweet old man, but I won’t damage his pride by letting him know that I know. He scowls again and looks away. With my glove I tap him lightly on the side of his nose, a bulbous and crooked thing that has obviously been broken a few times in his life. It’s as close to a hug as he’d ever let me give him, but it means as much.
“Thanks, Mick. I appreciate it.” I mean it. I really do.
“Yeh, well. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get yourself into trouble. Sometimes I worry about you, kid.”
Me too, Mick. Me too.
I am praying for a note in my letterbox all the way home. The numbness from my workout is already wearing off and I’m starting to shake again. I need Cade. Need his arms, his strength. I need him to be my shield and my warmth. I don’t care that he has secrets. I have secrets and right now they are eating me alive from the inside. I need him to hold me so bad.
Please, God, if you’re up there, I haven’t asked for anything in a long time and you know I’ve been good… sort of… at least lately. Please let there be a note from him when I get home.
My heart sinks like a stone when there is none.
That night, I lie in bed with the lights on and touch myself under the covers as I think about Cade. I don’t dare close my eyes.
But eyes closed and in the dark is all I have of Caden. I have no memories of his naked body moving against mine, no memories of his eyes on mine. I don’t know what he looks like when he shudders with pleasure. He has all those memories of me, but I don’t get to have any of him.
I remember the dark look in his eyes as he woke to find my hand near his chest. My wrist burns with the memory of his fingers around it. I remember his threat. “If you try to break my rules again… it would have to be over between us.”
Fucking bastard. How dare you threaten me with that? Don’t you need me like I need you? Don’t you want to let me in? The anger burns in the back of my throat like a shot of whisky. It mixes with the lust running through my veins.
The fingers of one hand work furiously against myself. In my mind I imagine that I bring a small knife into bed. I hide it near the head of the bed where my hands are tied. I feel Caden’s weight as he lowers himself onto me. There he is, my naked Caden, just beyond the flimsy strip of material over my eyes.
I take out the knife and cut away my bonds, freeing my hands. My legs are wrapped around him so when he realizes what has happened he can’t get away. I pull the blindfold off my eyes and I see him for the first time. God, he is glorious and thick and rippled and golden like the desert. My hands run across his chest and his stomach like fingers through silken sand. I watch his eyes darken like a setting sun across the sky as we both fall into night.
Finally, with eyes wide open, I come.
But my self-induced orgasm feels hollow and it barely soothes this ache. As I stare up into the ceiling I’m reminded of the nights I spent watching the ceiling over the shoulder of a stranger. This feels just as hollow.
I don’t just ache for Caden’s body and his sex anymore. I ache for him. I need to know what shade of green his eyes turn when we make love. I need to see him, to connect with him. I need to be with him. I need to know him.
Caden Thaine. Harper Lexington. Whoever you are. I need you like I need to breathe. I promise myself that the next time we meet, my eyes will stay wide open. Whatever it takes.
6
Hotel Bellevue, Friday 10pm, Suite #1501
I pull my car into the lobby of the Hotel Bellevue, a glitzy but boutique hotel. The valet takes my keys in exchange for a token with the hotel’s signature HB emblem on it, which I slip into my clutch.
I am wearing a black Hervé Léger bandage dress which wraps me tightly like a present, paired with black leather Christian Loubouton pumps, both another one of Caden’s gifts. Both selected specifically to seduce him so thoroughly that he won’t care if we leave the blinds and bounds aside. I notice a few heads turn as I walk towards the glass entry doors, pulled open by the doorman, but I don’t care about the attention of other men. Everything I wear, I wear for Caden. It’s my armor and my weapon, and it’s what I will use to bend Caden Thaine to my will. He will make love to me with eyes wide open.
At the door of suite #1501, I knock. When it opens Caden greets me with his trademark smile, but when he sees me his mouth drops open. Exactly the reaction I was aiming for. I ooze myself past him and meet his gaze through my thick lashes. As I strut into the suite I can feel his eyes roaming all over my ass.
The suite is huge and soft with plump furniture in muted colors broken up with carefully placed pale blues – cushions, a vase, the tie for the curtains – like ornaments. It’s on the top floor of this boutique hotel with floor to ceiling wraparound windows and a huge balcony overlooking the city an
d eventually the ocean. Through several open doors I can see the bedroom and the marbled bathroom, both richly decorated. The room is softened by the low lighting and the croon of Sade through the speakers positioned in the ceiling.
I shake my head slightly. This suite must have cost him a fortune. I feel a curl of guilt in my belly. How can I say that what he gives me already isn’t enough?
Suites and dresses aren’t everything, I remind myself. My resolve firms.
I slip my bag off my shoulder and drop it on the closest couch as I walk deeper into the suite. I can feel him following me, stalking me like a panther would, his footsteps muffled on the carpet. The sensation makes my skin rise in goose bumps. He closes the gap between us.
His arms go around my body like a net. He has caught me. One hand closes around my breast while the other tangles in my hair and pulls my head back so my neck is exposed to him. The possessiveness with which he grabs me sends moisture between my legs.
He touches his nose to my neck and I hear him inhale. He lets out his first possessive growl. “You smell so damn good. You look so damn good.”
I swear his voice is set on the exact frequency that makes my legs shake. Although my body is aching to stay within the fiery bounds of his touch, there are greater desires in me now. I force myself to push his hand from my chest and to pull my head away from him. I can sense his shock when I do and he lets me go.
“What’s wrong?” I hear the lace of fear in his voice.
I knew it. He would die like I would die if he had to leave me. He was bluffing. He can’t leave just like I can’t leave. We’re in too deep. We’re bound to each other.
This infuses me with confidence. I don’t look at him. I thrust my chin in the air, position one hand on my hip and start to walk towards the glass door to the balcony. “Can’t a girl get a look at this view before she’s mauled?” My voice is light and teasing.
I feel the tension behind me break as he laughs, a low rumble that I feel through my body. “I see.”
I hide a small smile of triumph as I push open the door to the balcony, hearing him begin to stalk me once more.
Outside a light night breeze tosses my hair about my shoulders. I stride to the balcony and place my hands on the railing. The city below twinkles like a black sea of white and pale yellow fish.
His hands find me once more. This time they span around the sides of my waist. A thrill runs down my spine at his touch. I wonder if I will ever get used to his hands on me. His body presses up to the length of my back.
“Looks like I’ve caught you again,” he whispers in my ear. His hands start running up my side then under my breasts.
“Maybe I wanted to be caught.”
“Indeed.” His hands travel back down my waist and over my hips. They stop at my dress’ hem, which sits an inch under the cup of my ass. “This is almost an inappropriate dress.”
“Almost?” I say in a mock innocence. “Why? What would make it completely inappropriate?”
“This.” He slips his hands under my hem and pushes my dress up so that it bunches at my waist. “Now it is completely inappropriate.” His palm slaps my ass cheek, making me gasp, the sting spreading wonderfully through my core. “That is for being completely inappropriate.” The same palm rubs the mark in tantalizingly soft circles.
“Cade. Someone might see.” I push his hand off me and try to smooth my dress back down but his hands circle my wrists, pinning them to my sides.
“No one can see us up here.” He places my hands on the balustrade. “Don’t. Move.”
My breath shakes through my teeth. “Please. I don’t want to be blindfolded.”
He tenses behind me in a long pause. “But you’ll still let me bind you?”
I consider this. And decide that it’s better to take this slowly with him, like he did with me. I’ll get him used to things. One step at a time. “You can still bind me.”
He nips at my ear from behind. “Then yes. We don’t need blindfolds this time.”
For a moment I can’t believe that I’ve won. I grin to the moon and it grins back. I grin to the stars and they wink back.
Oh Cade, I need you everywhere and all over me. Please don’t keep me waiting too long.
He doesn’t this time. We are both gone too far thanks to this outrageous dress and the thrill of being this high and my teasing behavior. I groan when his hand runs down my ass and between my legs. I can barely think when he pushes my underwear aside and dips a finger into my soaking wet ache from behind, just as his other hand slips down the front of my underwear to find my clit. My body reacts by shaking, and my need for him flares.
He withdraws his finger from behind. I moan as I lean heavily against the railing, pressing back into him. I am rewarded with two fingers that spread me wider as they push just inside my entrance. “Move for me.”
I push back from the railing and impale myself on his fingers. Oh God. With his other hand he continues to rub my clit. Fuck. No. I should demand that he stop and turn me round so I can see him. But my resolve is becoming lost under these waves of pleasure. Instead, I cry out for more. I can’t help it. I am a desperate fool for Cade and I can’t stop. Stupid, stupid body.
“That is so fucking sexy,” he says and it breaks into my thoughts. I realize I’m thrusting myself up and down on his fingers, pushing back against the railing and moaning like a whore. He chuckles. “You know, they might not be able to see you, but they can hear you.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
They don’t exist to me right now. No one and nothing else does except for him and me. And the spaces inside me that he exists in. I hear him growl as I thrust and tighten around his fingers. I know in that instant he means to take me on this balcony.
He takes his hands from me and peels my underwear down off my hips, the black lace pooling around my heels. He forces my thighs wider with his knees and I gasp as the night breeze cools the moisture between my legs. His fingers find their home again inside me. I move against him again, more urgently this time. The pressure builds and builds and I cry and thrust and there’s the brink…
He withdraws his hand and his body from me. I tremble from the loss and I have to slump on the railing to keep myself from sliding to the floor in a puddle. I don’t notice that he has pulled out his red silk ties until he swiftly ties my right wrist to the balcony. I let out a small cry and tug on my binding. Before I can react any further, my left wrist is secured to the railing.
I hear the drop of his shirt. Then his pants and belt clink and drop, too. As I look out over the glittering city below, I realize I have been fooled. Bound like this to the balcony I can’t turn around. I can’t see Cade. His hands grab my hips. I feel his erection slide between my legs, his head poised at my entrance. “I want you to push back again, this time onto me.”
For a moment I don’t care that I’m bound, I just want him inside me. My fingers grip the railing and I…
I remember, he’s naked behind me. But I can’t see him.
“Caden, no,” I force myself to say, “I want to look at you when we make love.”
A knot forms in my gut when he lets go of me. “You said you didn’t want to be blindfolded. I didn’t blindfold you.”
“I can’t see you his way. I need to see you. Please, turn me around. You can re-bind me, but please turn me around.”
He voice is low and I can hear the bitterness that taints his timbre. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Why? You never tell me why?”
“Have you stopped trusting me?”
“What? No, I just...” I squeeze my eyes to stop from crying out in frustration. I need him, but I need more. I need to be strong enough not to buckle to him anymore. “I just want to see you. I want to look into your eyes when you make love to me. I want this to be our new version of together.”
I can hear him pace behind me. I struggle to turn around. I strain my neck and my back from all my twisting. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the o
utline of his hard and muscled body, his hands running across his face, but the lights from inside the suite have turned him into a silhouette. I still can’t see him. The world is conspiring against me to keep the man I love in the dark from me. The unfairness of it makes me want to scream.
When he catches me trying to steal a glimpse of him, he freezes. He lunges for me and my heart leaps to my throat. His hands are in my hair and around my neck, firm like restraints. The insatiable whore in me can’t help but imagine him fucking me just like this.
He doesn’t. With him pressed up against me I can feel that he has completely lost his erection. He speaks and his voice is wild. “You don’t want to see me, kitten. Trust me, you don’t want to see me.” It doesn’t even sound like him anymore.
“I do.” I croak, not ready to give up yet.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” His hands shake around me with rage. “If you did, if you only knew, you wouldn’t fucking ask. If you knew… Jesus Christ. You don’t understand.”
I understand. I understand that you lost your parents and your sister in a horrible murder and you continue to torture yourself by not letting anyone in. But I can’t tell him I already know.
“Then please help me to understand. You can tell me, Caden.”
His hands loosen from my hair and fall around my torso like a set of ropes. He grips me tight, so tight I can barely breathe. His cheek rests on my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I just can’t.” His whispered voice is so pained it brings tears to my eyes. “I wish I could…” He slips from my body, from my head and from my hair. I grip the railing with the loss of him. “But I fucking can’t.” The night echoes back his sentiment, “can’t, can’t, can’t…” The air heats with his rage and I tremble.
I hear him take a breath. A steadying breath. He takes another and I can feel the frustration sucking back into him to be tucked away again behind a calm facade. He takes a step towards me. His lips brush my shoulder and his fingers graze my arms. His voice is soft like a prayer, “Don’t you think I want that, too? Don’t you think that I dream about being with you, really being with you? I do. I wish it more than anything.”
