DutyBoundARe

by Sidney Bristol

  “I don’t know where she is,” he replied.

  Lisette’s phone lay on the floor, the call timer still ticking away.

  “Mouton, I’ve got blood over here, it leads down the hall.”

  Mathieu glanced at the blood on the door and followed the trail. He had a bad feeling about this. The whole building was fucked up, and this staircase only led out to the alley.

  They descended, doing their best to stay out of the blood. There was a lot of it. He tried to not think about who it was losing it.

  “Mouton, back-up is almost here,” Ballenger said behind him.

  He didn’t care. There was no way he was waiting for them while Lisette could be dying.

  They reached the bottom of the stairs. Mathieu pushed the door open, peering out toward the street. A dog growl had his head snapping around so fast he almost got whiplash.

  “Seth—Seth, no.” Lisette had her back up against a dumpster, one arm thrown up to shield herself, gripping a knife, and the other holding onto Gator’s harness as he snarled, showing more teeth than Mathieu had ever seen from the dog before.

  Seth stood maybe six feet away. His arms were scratched and his left leg bloodied. His hair was darker, but that was just cosmetic. What nearly stopped his heart was the six-shooter he pointed not at Lisette, but Gator.

  He didn’t think, though the scene processed through his mind in the couple of seconds it took for Lisette to protest.

  Mathieu raised his gun.

  Lisette’s life was in danger.

  He brought his gun up, aimed, and squeezed the trigger.

  The report of the shot split the air. Seth grunted and his body went slack. Lisette yelped, dropping the knife, and Gator’s snarls rose to a full on bark as Seth collapsed onto the ground.

  Mathieu and Ballenger rushed in, Ballenger going for the gun and Seth’s prone form while Mathieu put his gun away and stopped outside of snapping range.

  “It’s okay, Gator. Gator!” The dog snarled and snapped at him, pressed up against Lisette’s legs, his tail between his legs. He was a fierce protector, even when he was terrified.

  “Gator, I’m okay. We’re okay.” Lisette’s voice shook as she stroked his fur.

  Gator whined, twisting toward her, licking her hand.

  “Easy, boy.” Mathieu took a step toward them. His hands trembled, wanting so badly to take Lisette in his arms.

  Gator’s head swung back toward him, snarling, except this time he registered who it was the dog was snarling at. The vicious sound turned to a pitiful whine; he tucked his tail between his legs and dropped to the ground, belly crawling toward Mathieu.

  He gave the dog a pat on the head. How much did he owe Gator for saving the woman he loved?

  “Come here.” Mathieu opened his arms and Lisette dove into them, burying her face against his chest. Her body shook. “Are you hurt? Did he get you?”

  Lisette shook her head, hiccups and sobs wracking her body.

  He held her at arm’s length, taking in the goose egg developing on her forehead and multiple scratches, not even deep enough to be called lacerations, on her arms.

  “Fuck, you’re okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” He pulled her back into his arms, blinking rapidly. He would never let her go, not after this.

  Lisette sat on the gurney, arms wrapped around her stomach, and listened to the hustle and bustle of the emergency room. She tried to tell herself it was over, that she didn’t have to worry anymore, but all she wanted was for Mathieu to hold her. He couldn’t even go to the ER with her. Something about police procedure since he’d shot Seth. It had all jumbled together at the moment.

  Her cell phone rang and she jumped, her heart pounding. She laid her hand over her chest and answered the call.

  “Hey.” Her voice still broke when she spoke.

  “Lissy? Lissy are you okay?” Leo sounded frantic over the phone.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” She still smiled when she spoke to him. It hadn’t even occurred to her to call him.

  “I just saw it—on the news. Mom and dad called me. Christ, what happened?” Her assurance she was fine hadn’t done much to ease the strain in his voice.

  “He waited until I was alone. He just didn’t plan on the dogs.” She didn’t think Seth had grabbed the gun for her, but neither did she want to think about that.

  “How did he find you?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” The military had trained him to kill; they’d just done their job a little too well. “They think he was tracking me online somehow.”

  “I’m coming back right now. They’re booking me a plane home and I’ll be there in a few hours.”

  “You don’t have. . .”

  “For fuck’s sake, you’re my sister. I’m going to be there.”

  Lisette smiled and a tear leaked out of her eye, but it wasn’t a sad one.

  “Mom and dad want to see you, too. So just fair warning. I’ll bring them so I can make them leave when you’re done. Where are you even staying?”

  “I don’t know.” Those logistics were why she was cooling it in the ER. She just couldn’t wrap her brain around what to do next.

  The curtain slid aside and Mathieu stood there in his beat-up leather jacket, his brow creased, probably worrying over her.

  “Leo, I need to go. Call me when you land, okay? I’d like to see you.” She hung up without waiting for his goodbye.

  Mathieu closed the distance and hugged her, standing between her knees, his hold gentle.

  “Sorry, I came as soon as I could,” he muttered into her hair.

  “What happened?” She’d felt a little abandoned when he closed the ambulance door, sending her off on her own.

  “Seth—died. I killed him with one shot.”

  A sense of relief loosened the tight muscles she hadn’t realized were still tense.

  “Any time an officer shoots someone there’s a big internal investigation. I have to go through the scene with Internal Affairs and a lawyer. That doesn’t matter; don’t worry about that. I’m sorry. I couldn’t leave the scene, no matter how much I wanted to.” He finally relaxed his hold, leaning back to study her.

  “The bruises are turning colors, aren’t they?” She could feel a hundred different places where Seth had thrown something and hit her when he couldn’t get close.

  “You should see the other guy.”

  She sputtered, laughing even as she felt guilty. Seth was dead. It wasn’t funny, but it was deserved. How many lives had he taken at his own discretion? They might never know.

  “God, I was so scared when I got your phone call. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” He gripped her arms, holding her away from him. “I couldn’t live with that. I need you, Lisette.”

  Her eyes filled with tears for a different reason. One full of hope, joy and love.

  “I need you, too.” She slid off the gurney and wrapped her arms around him. Her hero. Her lover. Her Sir.

  Epilogue

  Home

  Three months later…

  Mathieu stopped Lisette at the foot of the white stairs.

  She turned toward him, her body practically vibrating with excitement. “What?”

  “Hold on a minute.” He scooped her up in his arms, doing his best to not get tangled in the two leashes she held onto. “Now we can proceed.”

  She tossed her head back and laughed as he mounted the stairs, pausing for Porkchop to catch up. Lisette had to twist the doorknob on the white door, with its stained glass oval inlay, and he managed to get all four of them over the threshold without too much jostling.

  “There, now we’re official,” he announced.

  Lisette pressed a kiss to his cheek before he let her back down. They removed the leashes and the two scampered through the house. It wasn’t the first time they’d brought everyone to the house, but it was the first time they’d come home. As of today, this was where they w
ould build their future.

  “What do you think?” Mathieu asked, part of him still nervous Lisette would wake up and realize she’d made a mistake.

  “I can’t believe we got it.” She stepped into the family room. The previous owners had knocked down walls, redoing the layout into a more modern, open floor plan, with a wall of windows showing the back yard and letting in a lot of light.

  “Yeah, me neither.” He followed her, taking her hand as they surveyed their home.

  He’d been half-afraid the moment Lisette went walking with grandmère the day after Seth’s attack and found this place. Houses didn’t come cheap in this neighborhood, and she’d wanted this one so badly. It was the kind of place you built a family in, and that was the future they’d settled on together. One that would last until they were old, rocking on that very front porch.

  He breathed around the lump in his throat and pulled her toward him. Every day he reminded himself that he could have lost her. That a few minutes later could have made all the difference.

  “I missed you,” she said, her voice muffled by his chest.

  “I’m glad you’re back.” He stroked her hair as he spoke.

  Lisette had taken two weeks to go back to Miami to finish up her hours, collect what she could and make the move to New Orleans permanent. He hadn’t liked being separated from her at all, but it was temporary. Their lives were merging, beginning with this house.

  Porkchop and Gator assumed identical poses, haunches on the ground, ears perked and staring at them.

  They’d found the door to the backyard.

  “You want to go outside?” Lisette cooed.

  The dogs responded by wagging their tails, or in Porkchop’s case, his whole body.

  She released him and crossed the living room to the double doors that led out onto the patio. The dogs raced outside, stretching their legs.

  It felt good to watch Gator streak across a space big enough to run and play in. Maybe now his dog would remember who the owner was. Then again, Mathieu couldn’t blame the dog for gravitating toward Lisette. She was a force all her own.

  “Come on, I’ve got a surprise for you.” Mathieu closed the back door and took her hand.

  Together they mounted the stairs to the second floor. He led her to the master suite and pushed the door open, watching her face go slack in shock, lighting up with surprise.

  “Oh. My. God.” She stepped into the room, going straight to the antique, hand carved bed. Slowly, as if she was afraid it would disappear if she moved too fast, she stretched out her hand and touched the post. “They said they didn’t want to sell it.”

  “Yeah, well, I can be persuasive.” Mathieu grinned and turned to the dresser. His toys were right where he’d left them, laid out and ready for use.

  “How did you do it?”

  He glanced over his shoulder, amused to see Lisette hugging the post.

  “When they remodeled the house they didn’t leave enough room to get it down the stairs, I think. Also, it’s been here for so long they were going to run the risk of breaking it just trying to take it apart, so they decided it was better to sell it to us instead of possibly destroying it.” The wood had warped over time, the joints practically fusing together where they should have slid apart easily.

  “I love it.”

  He hoped she did. The king-sized mattress had cost a small fortune, but he figured they would get more than their fair share of use out of it.

  “I’m glad.” He turned slightly toward her. “Strip.”

  “Now?” Lisette gaped at him.

  “We’ve got to christen the new house.” He picked up a crop from the dresser and slapped it against his palm. “Strip.”

  She jumped and grinned. Everything with her was fun.

  Lisette grasped the bottom of her t-shirt and drew it up slowly, exposing her stomach, the bottom of her ribs and finally her black lacy bra.

  “Mm, is this new?” He stepped in closer, running the end of the crop along the cup, caressing her breast with the leather.

  “It is. Do you like it?” Lisette tabbed open her jeans, flashing him a bit of matching lace panties.

  “I do.” He liked anything she wore, but he liked her naked the most.

  She turned in place and slid her jeans down, wiggling her ass. Their play had taken on a fun, almost silly edge as of late, and he didn’t mind. He’d had enough seriousness to last him for a lifetime. He was ready to smile and laugh.

  Lisette turned to face him, wearing her barely-there black lace bra and panty set. With her glossy hair down and a smile on her face, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever met. And she was all his.

  “You aren’t done yet,” he said. “Keep going.”

  She got the clasp open with one hand, a feat he still couldn’t do. The bra slid down her arms and was deposited in the pile of clothing. She wiggled out of her panties and kicked them to the side as well.

  “What do you have planned, Sir?” She tilted her head to the side.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  He pulled off his shirt and kicked off his boots, leaving the jeans for now.

  He took a bundle of rope from the dresser, shook it out and tied Lisette’s wrists to the bedpost.

  “Breaking everything in on the first go?” she asked as he tightened the last knot.

  “That’s the plan.”

  He traded the crop for his two favorite floggers.

  The bedroom was spacious, enough so that he didn’t have to worry about hitting anything, unlike when they were in the apartment. He drew his arms back and smacked her ass with a one-two slap of the floggers.

  Lisette moaned and arched her back. He obliged the silent request and licked the tails of the flogger across her shoulders, setting up an easy figure eight pattern. He kept his gaze trained on her pale skin, growing pink. Her moans grew in volume and she twisted against the ropes.

  Mathieu tossed the floggers onto the dresser and closed the distance between them. He plastered his body against hers, cupping her breasts and burying his face in the crook of her neck. She lay her cheek against him, panting.

  She’d picked up the pieces of his life, just as he’d helped heal her. Together they’d been made whole, two fractured people meant to be.

  He pushed one hand between her legs. She shifted, widening her stance and pushing her hips back, grinding against his groin.

  Mathieu could push into her now, sink into her and find his release, but he wanted to look into her eyes when he came. He yanked on the tail of rope hanging from the knot and it unraveled in the blink of an eye.

  He turned her, holding her bound wrists to her chest and guided her to the edge of the bed. She grinned at him, her eyes slightly dilated, nostrils flaring. She was beautiful like this, with his rope binding her, marks on her body and her skin reddened.

  “I love you, Sir,” she purred.

  For a moment, the world felt as if it stopped spinning. This love was real. He felt it to his bones, and hearing her say it drove him crazy.

  He nudged her toward the bed but she didn’t give him space. Instead, she strained against the ropes, reaching for his jeans. Amused, he let her have just enough slack to get the button through the slit. If he allowed her to do more with those talented hands of hers he wouldn’t get to be inside of her, not before he came at least.

  He unzipped his jeans and shoved them down, kicking out of his clothing.

  Lisette crawled backward onto the bed, pulling him with her. He launched himself at her. She yelped and laughed as he caught and caged her under him. He thrust into her, their eyes locked. She looped her arms over his head, thrusting up to meet him. They panted.

  She came, her body shuddering and trembling around him. The skin at the base of his spine prickled and he orgasmed. They lay intertwined, limbs and bodies tangled until it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended.

  “Mm, we should do more of that,” she
said.

  “Lots more of that.”

  They had the rest of the afternoon. The idea had been to pack and move some of the boxes, but maybe what they really needed was a little extra playtime.

  A distant creaking sliced through their post-coital bliss.

  “Hello? Mathieu? You here?” a woman called.

  “Grandmère, knock first.” That had to be Lola.

  Lisette gasped. He hissed as he slid out of her, quickly unwinding the ropes. She cracked first, laughing as they scurried around grabbing clothes.

  This was their life now. And he loved it.

  Picture Her Completed

  A Bayou Bound Short Story

  Sidney Bristol

  chapter One

  Trouble

  The club was winding down for the night, but Odalia was just getting started. With a twenty-four hour shift under her belt and no perpetrator caught in a string of abductions, she had a lot of tension to work out.

  The flogger snapped across her back, lighting her flesh up as if she were on fire. She arched her spine, pressing her breasts into the wooden beams making up the X-shaped cross.

  “Mother fucker, hit a different spot already,” she said before she could think better of it.

  Jacques chuckled, a dark, sensual sound. He dug his fingers roughly into her hair, pulling her head back until it was hard to breathe.

  God, he made her hot. There was nothing soft about Jacques Savoy. He didn’t ease up, capitulate to her or allow her to walk all over him as other Doms had. Most knew by now she was a New Orleans cop. The badge was intimidating, which was not all that great when at heart, Odalia was a sexual submissive. But she didn’t need anyone else. Just Jacques.

  He covered her lips with his, taking her in a kiss as bruising and savage as she needed it to be. He twisted his hand in her hair until pinpricks of pain blossomed along her scalp. She whimpered against his mouth.

  Jacques released her and slapped the same damn spot he’d hit at least ten times so far.

  She winced, groaning. That would be one big bruise tomorrow, the kind that would stick with her for days. Her luck, it would hit just right so whenever she leaned back in her seat it would remind her of these moments together.