Bound by Blood Box Set

by Lane Hart

  I never let any of the women I screw stay long enough to cook or clean in my apartment. It feels too…intimate, and that's something I just couldn't afford to give them.

  "Thanks for cleaning up," I tell Cyn as I watch her pull the blinds in front of the windows to block the glare on the TV.

  She shrugs her bare shoulders. "Least I could do after you cooked."

  Setting aside my ever present guilt and loneliness, I throw a bag of kernels into the microwave and reach in the fridge to grab drinks. "Ah, I need to go to the grocery store, so all I have to drink is water, orange juice and tea."

  "Tea is fine, thanks," Cyn says.

  Two minutes later we're using the side of Max's rotund belly as the holder for our popcorn bowl. He's perfectly fine with the arrangement as long as we drop a few pieces into his mouth occasionally.

  "This is how tea is supposed to be made," Cyn remarks, before sitting her glass on the coffee table. "Sweet and with ice."

  "I know, right? What is wrong with these fucking Yankees serving disgusting hot tea? When I first moved here it took me weeks to figure out it wasn't just a few restaurants, it was the whole goddamn town. Don't they know that no sugar and no ice is just nasty ass brown water?"

  She laughs. "I feel your pain. I miss my Grandma Taylor's tea. I don't how she made hers taste so good. I think the water back home is just better than the water here."

  "Good ole Carolina. Have you called to let your family know where you are?" I ask.

  She shakes her head.

  "Why not?"

  "I-I can't. He'll check my call log, and he'll get pissed…"

  "Here, use mine," I tell her, offering my phone and waiting for her to take it from my hand.

  "Are you sure?" she looks over and chews on her bottom lip, hesitating.

  "Yeah. Call whoever. The MPD pays the bill."

  She smiles and finally takes my phone, punching in the numbers and putting it to her ear.

  "Use my room if you need," I whisper in case she wants privacy. "Take your time, I can pause the movie." She doesn't get up from the couch, and I figure she's going to unnecessarily try and make it quick.

  "Connor? Hey, it's Cyn. I know, sorry. I've just been really busy. Yeah, ah, teaching summer school and tutoring. Everything's fine. How's Chase, and mom and dad? Tell him I miss him too. Oh, this number?" she asks, giving me a worried look. "Just a friend's phone, mine's been on the fritz. Yeah, I've got to get a new one." She tells lies, one right after another, and then pauses listening to the other side. "I don't know. Thanksgiving's a long ways off, so I'll let you know when it gets closer. Okay. Love you too. Bye."

  Cyn hands the phone back without looking at me, and I don't miss the quick swipe of her hand under her eye.

  "You need to call anyone else?" I ask, hating that son of a bitch Mitch more and more for the way he treats her.

  "No thanks."

  "Okay, but as long as you're here you're welcome to talk to them anytime you want. They can call you back on this number too."

  She only nods so I hit resume on the movie. I try to stop worrying about her and only think about a superhero that's afraid of bats for the next several hours.

  Chapter Four

  Cyn

  The longer the movie goes on the more ashamed I am of the naughty thoughts I'm having, staring at the man sitting a few feet away. I thought Christian Bale would be a good distraction from what Jason had made me feel earlier, but nope, it isn't working. At least he has a t-shirt on with his shorts after today's shower. Probably because he doesn't want me ogling him constantly. But hell, I'd really like to see him with the shirt off again. I wouldn't mind if he lost the shorts, too.

  Even his long legs are sexy as he stretches them out, crossing his bare feet at the ankle on the coffee table. God, no wonder he had women lined up every weekend. But he isn't going to touch me, he'd made that perfectly clear. I just can't understand why not. I mean, I know he's out of my league, but the heat between us has been rising since we first met, and our kiss had been…incredibly hot. My lips still tingle, and the warm pressure in my lower body is begging for a release. I want him to touch me, get naked with me, and have his dirty way with me. I can't remember the last time I actually had an orgasm.

  Thankfully Mitch has always been embarrassed by his…small fry. And I may not have a degree in psychology, but I'd almost bet that little fact, pun intended, has something to do with his anger, extreme jealousy, and need to control everything. He feels inadequate, and that's the God's honest truth of how he should feel, no doubt about it. So while he'd occasionally roll me over and go at it, those times were rare because he was either too drunk to get it up, or not drunk enough for the shameful reminder of his shortcomings.

  Thinking about it, I don't believe he ever gave me an orgasm, and it wasn't like I even noticed when his dick was in me. He definitely wasn't a generous lover the few and far between times we'd been together during our six month relationship. He'd get himself off, then he'd get off of me. End of story.

  Just looking at the man a few feet away had me all hot and bothered. Deciding to sneak a look over at him he is…looking at me, or more specifically, checking out my rack.

  Oh God.

  My nipples tingle and tighten underneath my tank top with just that bit of knowledge. I'd almost swear I heard Jason gasp in notice. He'd obviously been looking at them this morning during breakfast too. Seemed Jason was likely a boob man. Good to know. I'd make sure I kept them out of a bra whenever possible just to tease him. Leaning forward I grab my glass of tea and take a swallow, noticing his eyes on me out of the corner of mine. Oh, this is going to be fun.

  A few minutes later I absently grab a few pieces of popcorn from our shared bowl, and then one 'accidently' goes down my cleavage. "Oops," I say quietly to myself as I take my time fishing it out, then pop it into my mouth. Jason squirms in his seat and re-crosses his legs at the ankle.

  The rest of the first movie I miss, because I'm too busy thinking of ways to drive the man crazy.

  While Jason takes Max out before the second movie starts, I shed my pajama bottoms and change into a pair of cotton shorts. When I sit down and stretch my legs out on the coffee table the shorts come all the way up to the tops of my thighs.

  After Jason returns to the couch and sits down, he has to clear his throat before he can ask if I'm ready for him to start the movie.

  "Sure. Oh, let me get us refills on our teas first," I tell him, jumping up to grab our glasses and then stepping over his legs to get to the kitchen and pour our beverages.

  "Here you go," I say sweetly when I return with his glass. He lowers his legs so I won't have to hurdle them this time.

  "Thanks. Nice shorts," he comments softly, eying my legs.

  "Oh, yeah it was getting a little warm in here."

  "Really? Looked like you were cold," he teases with a smile before hitting resume and starting the movie.

  After the first half I pull my feet up on the couch underneath me, aiming my bottom towards Jason. Reaching for a handful of popcorn I look over my shoulder…and his eyes are glued to my ass. I'm also pretty sure there's a slight bulge in his shorts. I must be right because after I turn back towards the TV I see him press against it with the heel of his palm from the corner of my eye. So he's an ass man too.

  My fun ends with the beginning of the third movie. Jason says he's getting warm too, and pulls off his t-shirt. The bastard. And it's impossible to get a good look at his chest and stomach from the angle I'm sitting beside him. He wins this round, but my two out of three isn’t bad.

  Around six o'clock Jason gets up and heads to the back, coming out a few minutes later dressed in khaki cargo shorts and a black t-shirt stretched tight over his chiseled chest. He obviously isn't going to work.

  "So, I'm heading out," he says with a sigh. "Mandi and I will probably be back around eight."

  Oh, he's going out with the "Sexual Healing" slut that had called earlier. Now, it's not fair for me to
judge her that way. I don't know the girl, and she isn't even aware she's being played. She's probably nice. A nice girl who in a few hours will be going to bed with this gorgeous man. Would she even care if she did know he had other women?

  I refuse to let him see that his outing bothers me.

  "Alright. Have fun and see you later."

  He stands by the door but hesitates before leaving. "You going to be okay finding dinner?" he asks.

  "Oh yeah. I'll fix something or order in. I'm not really hungry after all the popcorn though," I respond as cheerfully as possible.

  "Okay, see ya' later," he says before shutting the door and crushing me.

  …

  Jason

  I don't feel right heading out for a date with Cyn alone in my apartment. I'm going to feel even worse when I come back home and fuck Mandi with Cyn a few feet away, but I need to take the edge off. That damn woman has been flaunting her tits and ass at me for hours. Many, many long hours, where I couldn't stop looking at her or wanting to drag her to my bed so I could touch and kiss every inch of her incredible body.

  I shake my head as if that will get the images out of it while I wait outside the pizza place for Mandi. Of course she's late. Shit, I should've just told her I had to work.

  When I'm a heartbeat away from walking I finally see her coming up the sidewalk. Her dark brown hair is down and curly, and she has on a short red dress that hugs every inch of her long lean body. She looks great, but tonight she just isn't doing it for me. My thoughts are still on a certain beautiful redhead.

  "Sorry I'm late," she says stretching up to kiss me, but she doesn't provide a reason for the delay. Probably something stupid like changing clothes. And hell, the kiss is as flat as three year old soda, unlike the one with…

  "Hey, I put us on the waiting list so it shouldn't be much longer," I tell her, instead of finishing that thought.

  "So what've you been doing today?" Mandi asks, looping her arm through mine.

  "Hanging out, watching some movies. Nothing much," I say, pulling out my phone and suddenly remembering I didn't give my number to Cyn in case she needs me. And I didn't have hers.

  Shit.

  It's only an hour or so, and I'm sure she'll be fine, but I still can't help worrying.

  Mandi goes on and on about her recent shopping trip for a good five minutes until our pager finally vibrates in my pocket with an available table.

  Thank fuck.

  I order a medium Fire & Smoke pizza and whatever beer is on tap, then wait while my date give the waiter specific instructions for everything she orders, including how to cut the lemon for her water.

  No shit.

  At least she isn’t so particular in bed. Under the sheets anything and everything goes with her, yet not even a hint of arousal flares through my body as I think about some of the kinkier shit we've done involving ropes and suspension. My wandering mind briefly recalls Cyn in her tank top and shorts from earlier, and bam, I'm hard as a motherfucking rock.

  I shift in my seat to make room in my shorts as I try to figure out what the woman in front of me is rambling about. I hear "shoes" and zone right the hell out again, wondering what Cyn's doing, and thinking about how nice it would've been to order a pizza and have a relaxing night in with her and Max.

  The longer the night goes on, the more certain I become that I'm not going to be able to take Mandi back to my apartment and screw her with Cyn in the living room. It just wouldn't feel right.

  So we go back to Mandi's apartment instead. Much easier.

  After a quick doggy style fuck that's mediocre at best, I'm on my way home with the "got to be at work at five a.m. tomorrow" excuse, which is complete bullshit.

  Finally I walk back through the door of my apartment after it feels like I've been gone for ages.

  Max is happy to see me when I walk in the door, but Cyn looks less excited. Her tail doesn't twitch even once.

  I flop down on the end of the couch where I sat with her earlier.

  "Oh, I thought you were bringing your date back. I hate I didn't get to meet her," Cyn says with a smile.

  "The woman talks non-fucking-stop," I grumble, rubbing my throbbing temples.

  "Right, so you like your women with legs open and mouths shut?" she asks, making my jaw drop. It takes me a second to recover since now I'm picturing the woman beside me that way.

  "I don't mind if their mouths are open while their legs are open, or while they're on their knees. It's all the other times that annoy me," I tell her. I can't help my cocky smile, or my cock from getting hard after fantasizing about having Cyn on her knees in front of me.

  "To be such a nice guy, why are you such a dick when it comes to women?" she asks. Her words stung, but I couldn't explain to her that carelessly screwing random women is the only type of physical intimacy I'll ever have in my long, pathetic life.

  "They all know what they get with me, and yet they keep coming back for more," I reply, which is the truth. It’s just not the explanation for why I’m so flippant or detached with them.

  "What exactly do they get with you? Wham, bam, thank you ma'am, now get the hell out?"

  I laugh at how she's pretty much summed it up in one sentence. "Yeah, something like that."

  "So why do you see three women every weekend? Why not just one?" she asks seriously, all joking aside.

  "Because seeing a woman more than once a week gives her the wrong idea. And I need…'sexual healing' a helluva lot more than once a fucking week. I make do with three, but seven women would be even better," I tell her, wishing I could have her seven days a week. Hell, more like twice a day, seven days a week.

  "Aw, do you get cranky when you don't get any?" she inquires teasingly.

  "Actually, yes. All men lose their shit when they go too long without the real deal, because jerking off sure as hell doesn't cut it."

  "Yeah," she sighs. "I've noticed that with Mitch."

  My jaw clenches tight at just the thought of that man touching her in a sexual way, so hard that my teeth hurt.

  "I'd take a guess and say that's not his only problem," I assure her, so she won't try and blame herself for his anger issues.

  "Oh no, he stays pissed because he's insecure and doesn't like to have sex with me, not because I hold out. I mean, I'm glad he doesn't want to because it's terrible."

  "Terrible?" I ask with a raised eyebrow. Knowing her ex is a sorry lover makes me ecstatic. But what the hell is he good for?

  "Terrible. Mitch is…how do I say it? Small."

  "Small?" I chuckle.

  "Yeah," she replies with a smile.

  "How small?" I ask, unable to help myself.

  She stretches her thumb and index finger about three inches apart.

  "When he's limp, right?" I ask. When she shakes her head no we both bust out laughing. "Holy shit. No wonder the man has anger issues. Not that that's an excuse to hit you, but damn. That is…unfortunate."

  I've never had any sort of inadequacy concerns, and was very confident with the size of my nine inch long cock. Yeah, I've measured it.

  "Unfortunate for women. I mean the man couldn't even keep a condom on."

  I bark out another laugh. "But he made up for it in other ways, right?"

  "Um, no," she says, looking away.

  "So you mean he hasn't given you any…in months?" I ask, appalled. What man wouldn’t pleasure this beautiful woman every way possible, several times a day?

  "Closer to a year since I've had any," she answers, with a blush coloring her cheeks.

  "Holy hell. Give me ten minutes sweetheart, and I promise I'll get you off at least three times," I tell her. In the next blink of an eye she surprises the shit out of me when she actually takes me up on my offer!

  Straddling my lap, Cyn's lips crush down on mine, and fuck its good! I have to reach down and grab handfuls of that ass she's teased me with all day before I go for the mounds straining from her top.

  Cyn presses her body down harder on my lap
, and I feel like I’m about to explode, it’s so amazing. I know the instant something changed though, because she goes completely still in my arms a second before she pulls back, eyes narrowed, forehead furrowed looking…pissed.

  "Do you wear floral perfume or is it hers?" she asks.

  Oh fuck me.

  "Um."

  "God. You're right, I do make horrible decisions," she mutters while climbing off of me.

  "Cyn wait-" I reach for her but she’s already halfway across the room.

  "You're going to tell me you didn't fuck her?" she asks, and I don't bother answering. "I thought when you came back without her…never mind." Shaking her head she heads for the bathroom and shuts the door.

  Max whines, then gives me a look that says, "She's right, you are a dick." I have to agree with him on this.

  "Come on," I tell him, taking him outside one last time before I go to my bedroom full of shame, regret and an incredible ache, wanting something I know I can never have.

  ...

  The next morning I go straight back to bed after walking Max. I just lay there, in and out of sleep, feeling like complete shit. I don't want to keep fucking numerous women. I want more. I want Cyn.

  I'd been doing just fine dealing with being a freak, accepting that I can't even consider having a real relationship with a woman, until she came along. The fire she’s ignited in me is something I've been missing all this time. I selfishly wonder if there’s any way I can have more with Cyn. My options are telling her the truth about what I am, which will send her running, or keeping it from her and hoping she never finds out.

  I’m still weighing the pros and cons when my fucking phone rings, playing the song "Bad Boys." Hell, it’s the station.

  "Hello?" I ask, still groggy. Looking at the clock it’s almost noon. Shit, I haven't stayed in bed this long in forever.