“Looks good,” I said grudgingly.
“Glad you approve." He grinned at me and that grin went right to my pussy. Then right to my heart. And then I felt another wave of anger.
“I do. Thanks so much. Won’t talk to me but you’ll feed me like a queen. Truth be told,” I said, shoving a huge bite in my mouth and talking with my mouth full--on purpose just to annoy him. “I’d prefer a granola bar and an adult conversation with a man who didn’t need to lock me up and lock me in and close me off, emotionally, that is.”
He glared at me and I mentally marked myself a single point in the battle of Ember and Lucas. I smiled, shoveled in another bite and took a sip of coffee.
“I told you we’d talk. I told you I was trying to figure some stuff out and I told you that you were free to go.” He said this all in a low flat line voice, clearly he was keeping a rein on his emotions.
“Ooooh, so generous of you. My way or leave. Thanks so much for playing, Em. Have this ridiculously loud sex toy as a consolation prize. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass one the way out. The ass marked up with little bruises from my hand. Don’t forget your luggage. The clothes I bought, the boots too. But don’t ask me to have a normal fucking conversation!” My voice was going up despite my best efforts and he gave me a head shake and a warning look. I kept going.
“Because big bad Lucas can hijack cars and tie up women and share with his brother and take off into the woods. He can do it all. But he cannot let anyone know how he feels. God fucking forbid he show an emotion. God fucking forbid he says what’s in his—”
He was fast. I’d forgotten just how fast. Funny how you don’t remember stuff like that until you see it again and it jogs your memory. He grabbed my arm and yanked, yanked me right out of my seat and I dropped my fork. I swallowed hard as his thick forearm tugged me in and he used his other hand to lever me down. I flopped over his lap like a broken doll and I knew just where this was going. Exactly where. I kicked out, terrified and turned on at once. A tornado of emotions locked in the small space that was my belly and my cunt.
There was no game in it. There were no words. He did not make me count and he did not address me at all beyond saying “I think we’ve way surpassed ten at this point.” His thick strong fingers snatched a spatula from the table and he started in on me. A flurry of blows that stung like a million tiny thumbtacks pricking my skin. Even through my jeans. Even through my panties. He used the flat of the tool and kept his blows to the fleshy part of my ass, but Lucas’s displeasure with me radiated through my ass, the backs of my legs, the small of my back. I grunted and squirmed, caterwauled and shrieked and yet he didn’t stop. I had no idea how many blows he landed or when the flood of pain morphed to a flood of endorphins. I had no idea when my desperate struggled turned to writhing on his lap, trying to come in any contact with him at all. His knee, his thigh, any part of him I could press my sex to was what my body sought.
Then Lucas stood suddenly, tumbling me to the floor. He tugged up on my arm at the last minute so I didn’t hit too hard. So I didn’t hurt myself. I stared up and he glared down and then said, “Finish your breakfast if you like. I’ll meet you out front. You have permission to get yourself off if you need to. And your face says you need to.” Then he turned on his boot heels and walked out.
I stared after him, heard the front door slam. “Well,” I said. My voice a bizarre mix of anger and wounded pride, I forced the rest of the words out, trying to sound brave to my own ears. “Thanks so much, Lucas. Thanks so much for your permission to get myself off. Thanks for your input. Your opinion. Your royal declaration.” But even as I said it, I felt the insistent pulse in my pussy, the fluttering anxiety in my belly, the need that seemed to echo like a second heartbeat in my chest. I knew what the rest of my day in close proximity to him would be like if I didn’t finish this.
It could be done, but it would be terrible. Achy and needy and irate. That would be the bulk of my day with him. I pushed my hand down in my jeans, knowing by the flexing beat of my cunt that this would take no time at all. My body was awash with fear and anger and want and need. A deep seated need that was nearly painful. I pushed my fingers deep into my pussy, feeling the flickers of pain and pleasure dance across my flesh. I noted how they swapped places and then merged at time. First a hot sting on my skin, then a steady unfathomable pulse of pleasure, and then some bizarre mix of joy studded with pain.
“Fucking jerk,” I said and pushed my fingers deeper. I slid my other hand down into my panties, worked my clit. My hands working overtime to take me where Lucas had refused to. I imagined him with his face pressed to the kitchen window, watching my pathetic self ministrations. I imagined him arriving and gathering me into his arms, saying he was sorry, going down on me. I imagined him coming in silent and strong but taking me there on the kitchen floor. Fucking me slowly and brutally and exactly as I needed. I imagined it all and none of it happened.
What did happen was my juiced up body gave up the orgasm with a rush of fluid and spasms and soft cries that I did my damndest to swallow.
Then I cleared my plate and hit the bathroom and pulled my coat on. I wasn’t hungry anymore and already the orgasm was fading. But I’d be fucked if I’d let him know that. So I shut the door behind me and smiled at him, my biggest fakest smile when he looked up from clearing snow off the front steps. “Ready for our hike!” I announce, trudging toward him. I had that horrible sick moment of realization as my feet went out from under me and my ass hit the granite steps.
Chapter 26
There were tears. Lots and lots of embarrassing tears. And there was a true look of concern on Lucas’s face as he rushed to me. I felt a sickening satisfaction to see his deep concern. Served him right. Treating me this way. Now watch me fall and break my ass and die of a broken coccyx! That struck me as funny so by the time he reached me I was alternating laughing like a hyena and crying like a small child.
“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing my hair out of my face, wiping my tears.
“No! No I am not okay. You won’t talk to me and you spanked me. On the ass! And then I fell. On the same ass!” I was half yelling and half wheezing from all the tears. “And now…” Anger replaced the upset and I grabbed his arm and hauled myself up. “Right. Never mind. There is a hike. Let’s fucking hike. Here we go.” I started through the few inches of snow, struck a rock, stumbled. For a moment I thought I’d fall again. And I decided right there that if I fell and became mortified yet again I was going to just punch Lucas right in the head. I didn't care. Pushy or not, dominant or not, abductor or not. I would punch him right. In. The. Head.
But I didn’t fall and I heard him coming up behind me on the barely discernable trail. “Ember,” he said.
“I trust I’m going the right way.” I refused to look at him.
“Yes. The trail. I thought we’d hike it.”
“Here we go!” I said like a maniac. “Let’s hike it! Let’s go. Up and at ‘em big boy.” I walked faster, my ass singing with the recent punishment and now with a biting, tender pain from hitting the stone steps. I winced but tamped down the pain. Fuck it. It was just an ass. A bruise was no big deal. I’d had worse. Worse had been his swift and wordless punishment not a half hour before. Worse had been his permission to get myself off instead of just being with me–taking me, fucking me, making love to me. Whatever label you wanted to put on it or whatever sweetness level, Lucas had decided to leave me to my own devices instead of being with me.
Lucas grabbed my arm and I shocked both of us by yanking away. “Hey, now, we’re not in the bedroom, Sir. We’re out in the great outdoors. Just two people hiking. Just two people taking a stroll.” I didn’t even know what I was saying. I felt like I was babbling. My anger seemed to have a voice even when my hurt feelings did not.
“Fine. Let’s hike.” He pressed his lips together.
“Good."
“Right.”
I bit my tongue. I would not say another word. He was
baiting me. I shook my head and stuffed my hands in my coat pocket. I felt the cool metal outline of my phone in my pocket. Maybe I should whip it out and call a cab. That would set him straight.
That’s not showing very much faith in him.
I blinked back tears. My anger and my bruised ego was overruling what I’d set out to do. Show Lucas that I had faith in him. That I believed in him. That I was more than his current walking, talking sex doll. I blew out a big breath but it didn’t help my raging emotions, it did rein me in a bit though. I slid and he reached out to steady me. His jaw was tight with unspoken words, I guessed. Or just plain annoyance. But he steadied me without flinching and we kept climbing the trail. A barely discernable upgrade that kept us hiking a bit higher and higher as we nearly marched in our silent travel.
We came to a brief clearing where the woods opened up a bit. The field was pristine. White and perfect. A physical manifestation of peace. Something in my chest felt a bit softer, some tight part of me loosened. I glanced at Lucas in my peripheral vision, not ready to say I had been a jerk. I so wanted him to for once admit to being less than perfect. To admit that he had been overtly cruel to me. That it had been wrong. He didn’t. But he did shock me by saying softly “The scar you are obsessed with, the one you touch–and the one on my jaw for that matter–is from the last fight I had with my father.” He kept his head straight and he didn’t look at me. I felt like if he did turn and face me the spell would be broken and he’d clam up again. So, I didn’t turn to look his way, instead I watched the fresh snow powdering the already packed field of white.
“I told him I wanted to go to college. I’d set up the financial aid. I’d done everything I needed to do. Matthew was his responsibility then and I was off to college to start my life.”
I waited, feeling my chest clog with fear of something that had already happened. Something I could not change for him and yet wished I could. My eyes stung from the wind and impending tears.
“We got into it. Fists and he had a can opener in his hand when he clocked me. He didn’t attack me with it. Not intentionally. He was drunk and honestly I think he forgot that he had it in his hand. He said fine. Go. Matthew would be fine. He had a father. And I should never come back.”
I drew a line in the snow with the toe of my boot. I waited. I listening. I did not speak. I was silence incarnate. For once.
“Then he passed out. I knew he was leaving the next day for a long haul. I knew he wouldn’t change his life. I knew that was what Matthew would have for support, as a role model. And I knew I couldn’t do it. So, I slapped some butterfly bandages on my wounds and I left the house. But only until he left for his job the next day. He was killed on that haul. The truck jackknifed, there was speculation he was drunk, but the life insurance paid out and I became Matthew’s legal guardian.”
He started walking. Without another word. I stumble-ran a few steps and caught up with him. I reached out and put my hand in his. I knew there was the chance he’s reject me, but I did it anyway. I felt his fingers stiffen but then he took my hand and we walked. After a moment Lucas said “I don’t want your pity.”
“Good, because you don’t have my pity.”
I stopped and tugged, forcing him to either pull free and keep going or stop and face me. He stopped. I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. I didn't say I was sorry, I didn't try to analyze. I simply kissed him and kept kissing him until his tense lips softened and he pushed his hands into my hair, cupping my head, holding me tight, he took over the kiss and blissfully bullied my tongue into submission. I pressed myself to the hard warm length of his body, soaking up his heat, feeling the rigid planes of his muscles. Lucas broke the kiss and we turned back to the trail.
I started to shake from the cold. It was too much. Too much emotion and turmoil, too much had happened and my body felt like I’d been creamed by a car. A physical manifestation of my confusion and worry and hope for him to…what? Love me?
Yes.
At the top of the hill the land fell away in a steep slope that eventually leveled out to the shores of a lake. “Here is the last place I felt like a kid,” he said. "Matthew and I came here right before they contacted us about dad. We drank pilfered beers and tossed rocks. Fished a little, blared music, shared the girl who lived about a mile up the road."
I laughed, shaking my head. “Even then?”
“Actually, that was the first time. And I want you to know something. It’s not every girl. It’s not every time. It’s more about this weird power thing we have. He thinks the power lies in being the young one–me needing to care for him. I think it comes with being the eldest, the provider. I’m not blind to the fact that lots of people would frown on what we do. But we only do it if it’s welcome. And I know it’s strange to some folks, but no harm, no foul.”
“No harm, no foul,” I said. “Right.”
“You’d be surprised at how many women want—”
“Um, no I wouldn’t,” I said and smiled. “But look out there and realize that Matthew is a grown man now. You don’t have to care for him. You can have things for yourself and he can care for himself. You taught him how, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“You did.” I turned away, putting my back to the wind that seemed to be whipping right through me. I had started to shake. The tremors were unsettling but I didn’t want him to see.
He did anyway. “Hey, what’s this?”
“I have no idea. I’m just so tired. So cold. It’s fine. It is snowing after all. Cold is a pretty normal way to be.” I laughed but the chills that wracked me so suddenly made him frown. He felt my head.
“You’re warm. Not burning up but warmer than you should be. Let’s go, let's get you home.”
Lucas took my arm, the other hand resting at the small of my back as he piloted me down the path back toward the cabin.
“I feel like an ass,” I said, my teeth chattering.
“You’re sick.”
“I’m weak, is what you mean.”
“No. I mean you’re sick. And probably exhausted. It might simply be exhaustion. You’ve had a bit of a…week. As my favorite teacher in grade school used to say. Mrs. Scully was prone to saying it’s been a week when it was only Tuesday,” he said.
My heart panged like a guitar string breaking. His tone said me that Mrs. Scully was the closest thing in Lucas’s mind associated with a mother. “It has been a week,” I said, a shiver working through me with a vengeance.
He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and hustled me along. I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit I liked his coddling attention. That I liked that—maybe, just maybe-- he was regretting making me sleep alone last night.
“Yes, it has. And some of yours has been due to me. I’m not good at emotions. Especially mine. It’s complicated.”
“You mean you’re complicated?”
“I mean it’s complicated. Life. Things that make me feel–or hell–think, or question, or want…”
“Want what?”
“More than I should have.”
“You should have it all,” I said. “You're brave and loyal. You’re kind.” My tongue felt too big and my brain felt like it might float right out the top of my head. I tried to go on. “You’re strong like no one else I know. And you're handsome.”
“You okay?”
I could hear the mushy quality of my words but couldn’t seem to sharpen them. I gave him a nod and the world swayed. “Fine, fine,” I insisted. I would be fine. “You’re funny, too,” I barreled on, my tongue tripping over itself, my words smashing against one another and I felt him stiffen next to me, on alert. “I mean, you could cut loose once in a while and really laugh. But in your own way you are fucking funny,” I said, the last word coming out fenneh.
“Ember?”
“And I think you should catch me now,” I said, my voice going wispy and my knees buckling. Then I was falling, falling, falling toward a field of white. But at the last minute I didn’t hit, I had big st
rong warm arms around me. I sighed.
“Let’s get you home, September,” he said.
“Let’s get me home,” I said. My world was gray around the edges with little flashes of magic white light in the center. My head hurt suddenly and I was cold to the core. “Let’s get me home,” I said again.
“Jesus. I’m sorry.” His words were soft and dark and full of pain.
Oddly I felt no victory in that apology. I just wanted to make it better for him. I wanted him to get it, but I couldn’t really form any thoughts beyond cold at the moment. I shook my head but the world rocked.
“No,” I said.
“No what?”
Then the gray ate up the little white bits and I was out.
Chapter 27
Had he tied me up! Really. Was this the time for sex games? I struggled, and pushed and whipped my body around. It was not lost on me even in my muzzy headed state that this was very much how Lucas Crow had found me. And now here I was again.
I felt warm hands on my belly, sliding to my hipbones, pinning me. But I was pinned to something soft and comfortable not some horrid box. I felt his presence then. He’d pressed his lips to my cheek and said, a smug smile in his voice “Stop struggling. It’s only your sweater. I’m trying to get you in some warm dry clothes.”
I blew out a breath and then the panic truly set in and I shivered with the rush of tears. I refused to make any noise though. I could leak but I would not sob. He tugged once more and the sweater pulled free of my snow-damp hair. “There. Now we can--” He paused, stone carved face going from satisfied to confused. “Why are you crying? Did you hurt yourself?”
I shook my head. “I’m not crying,” I said and a wave of cold washed over my bones. My body jerked and trembled and Lucas shook his head, annoyed with me, or just in general.
“September, you are crying.” He dried my breasts and my arms and my neck with a soft towel. He tugged the new red thermal over my head and pushed my arms in the holes. Then Lucas unbuttoned my sodden jeans. When the shiver overtook me, he dropped a throw blanket over my naked skin while he dealt with my jeans.
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