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Tethered Love (The Knot Duet Book 2)

Page 9

by M. Mabie


  When she finally found someone, I was ready to get it going. I’d remained cool about it, but the thoughts of what-if-this and what-happens-then crept into my mind.

  I was ready to just do it. Find out.

  I couldn’t dispute how she glowed when she came to my apartment after they’d met for dinner. She even seemed more relaxed.

  In some ways, I hoped it was because she was excited to experience it with me, and not that she was merely happy to have an extra warm body to give her things I alone couldn’t.

  I loved her and bit my tongue every time she came while underneath me with that look in her eye. I believed she loved me too, but wasn’t ready to admit it.

  She’d told me once that she more than loved me and that was great, but I wanted the real declaration. I didn’t know if that would ever happen, so I held my peace.

  Nora gave me more than she knew. Regardless of what she called it, she was committed to me. That was absolute. No question. She’d promised she wasn’t looking for anything with anyone else. I trusted this was also true.

  Funny, for a man like me, and for the time being, it was all I needed. Although, I wasn’t sure how long it would be until I wanted more.

  “Okay, well, have a good weekend. Short week next week. Are you going to Washington to see your family?” he asked as he tapped on the door frame of my office. It was past five, but Nora was at a big event for the hotel, so I wasn’t in any rush.

  “Yeah, I fly out on Wednesday morning.”

  “Well, see you Monday, Reggie,” he added and left.

  I had enough work to keep me busy throughout the evening. Then, I planned on hitting the gym. Lately, most of my cardio included an orgasm at the end. I’d have to settle for a good long run that night. Nora mentioned she’d be late because she felt guilty for leaving, so she was staying to help clean up.

  I wondered how long she’d keep that job. Some days she seemed to really love it, others it seemed like a huge pain in her ass.

  Still, she rarely complained.

  As I went through my evening, and my daily dose of calm wore thin, my biggest hurdle screamed in my ears. She was leaving. Halfway across the globe. For months maybe. There weren’t enough pharmaceuticals to distract me from it.

  My days with her—at least for now—were numbered.

  I kept telling myself to not focus on that, but to concentrate on making her want to come back. Although, I knew—like many other things—that was well out of my hands.

  I ran five miles, then showered alone.

  I needed to get used to it. Used to her not being there again. What had I ever done to keep myself busy without her? Had I really worked that much?

  We hadn’t discussed, or labeled our relationship. I’d need that cleared up before she ever got on a plane. It would be a cruel hell wondering the whole time she was there otherwise.

  In short, I wasn’t looking forward to December.

  “GOOD MORNING,” I HEARD through my dreams. It was her voice, and not all that uncommon. She visited me in one form or another most nights. I fought against reality wanting to stay there with her a few more minutes.

  It was so real. I could taste her. Smell her in the air as it filtered through my lungs. Feel her magnetism as I lay in my bed, eyes closed.

  “Someone is tired,” I heard her croon, then my lucid dream drifted away like thin foam on the sea.

  I took a deep breath and stretched, then pulled her down and held her to me.

  “So you do know how to use a key,” I said, sounding like I’d swallowed gravel, hoarse and gruff.

  I felt her chuckle but didn’t hear it. She felt perfect in my arms. I wanted to lay there forever.

  “Oh, I knocked first, but it’s early.” She said and shoved an arm under my pillow so she could get closer. I fucking loved when she did that.

  “If it’s early, then why are you up? Didn’t you get back late?” My eyes started to blink open as all my senses went from snooze to Nora.

  “I don’t know,” she said and kissed the knot in the center of my throat. “Maybe I missed you.”

  I lay there unmoving, as she slid her mouth over my neck. Her hand coming between us.

  “You should have come when you got off work.”

  She stroked me and said, her voice seductive and sweet. “I guess I’ll have to come now instead. It would be a shame to waste this beautifully hard cock. But if you’re too tired...”

  I moaned, and my hips pressed firmer into her hand as she ran it up and down my erection.

  She might be leaving soon, but she was there now.

  She missed you. She said she fucking missed you.

  Quickly I rolled over on top of her, and she yipped from the sudden jostling.

  “Oh, I’m awake now, baby. You can’t wake a bear and not expect to get eaten.”

  Then, I attacked her neck as she screamed, “Wait. Stop!”

  I wasn’t sure if she was playing my game or if she really wanted me to quit. My brain was ever waiting to hear that word from her cherry lips.

  I lifted my head to investigate. Quirking an eyebrow to gauge her protest.

  “You can’t do this; not like this,” she pleaded, with just enough damsel in her voice that I wasn’t convinced she was offended at all.

  So I lunged at her left breast, and she cried out again.

  “Please, no.” She pushed feebly at my shoulders. “We can’t wrinkle my dress.”

  Then, she gave me an I’m serious look.

  I rolled to one side and let her up.

  A test.

  She less than gracefully hopped out of my bed, the sheet nearly tripping her when it caught her around the foot.

  Oh, that foot.

  Then, she threw off the sweater dress she wore, pulled her panties down her leg like her ass was on fire, and tore off her bra.

  She made good use of her time, then hopped back onto the bed and crawled beneath me.

  “All right, now make me your breakfast, bear.”

  “Are you sure about that? I’m hungry.”

  I gave her a second chance to make her case, but I didn’t see where any defense saved her. I was ravenous for her—nothing new—and she’d told me she missed me and wanted me to have her for breakfast.

  I wanted her to come so hard it put her wildest fantasies to shame. I wanted to mark her memory of that morning, the one when she’d said she’d missed me, which I interpreted as so much more.

  I’d make her scream and beg, for mercy or more, like she’d handed herself over to me. And, really, with those few precious words hadn’t she?

  How could I not make this girl happy? How could I not do everything in my power to guarantee that she got everything and surpass her desires?

  When she waited for me to walk slowly into uncharted territories with her, wasn’t that the same as handing me her pleasure? For my inspection. For my education. For my willingness to want to please her.

  Yes, she’d waited. And I’d give it to her.

  I’d give her everything, I’d decided as she howled out my name. My tongue drew religion, swears, and my name alike from her mouth, as she cried out in beautiful agony.

  I made my way up her body, my fingers taking over where my lips abandoned. Two of them curled inside her, the heel of my palm rubbed her clit around and around.

  She clung to the back of my neck, her eyes meeting mine on their own—something she didn’t often do unless I asked her to. She looked straight into me as she gasped for air and shuddered against me.

  As she drifted back down from her climax, I gently ran my fingers over her hot skin. Her breathing eventually slowed, and she held my face in her hands as she kissed me.

  I wasn’t done with her. Would I ever be?

  I leaned back, and she followed, straddling me and wrapping her long legs around my back. With her arms around my neck she sat herself down on my cock, and that’s how we started the day. I hoped that was the way we would end it, too.

  Together.


  “HOW ARE YOU FEELING?” she asked as we rode in the car to the restaurant. There was no way in hot lava hell I was driving that night—I knew my limits—so I’d hired a car service. I wasn’t sure how the night was going to unfold, but I knew I’d be drinking.

  We were meeting Simone, the woman who was joining us later, for an early dinner and drinks.

  I studied our hands, she was holding my right hand in both of hers as she sat close to my side in the leather back seat. Legs crossed toward me. Shoes bearing sky-high heels.

  How was I?

  I was nervous. Excited. Eager to show her how serious I was about giving her what she needed, even if that meant doing something that stretched my world.

  “I’m interested,” I replied.

  She considered my answer, a speculative quirk in her perfect brow.

  “Interested,” she repeated. “Care to explain?”

  “Nothing to explain really. The more I know about you, the more I want to know. I’m always interested in learning something new.” My hand ran up her thigh, and I lowered my voice so that only she could hear. “I’m interested in watching you enjoy yourself. I’m interested in getting some point of reference for your penchants. I’m interested in you.”

  She tipped her head and puckered her lips, then waited for me to kiss them.

  “So, how do you feel?”

  In my mind, together we were supreme. This could give me insight into what she thought I lacked—what was missing when it was only us. Because I couldn’t for the life of me comprehend what it was.

  I realized it wasn’t about that for poly people; I’d read the books. Yet, there was something fundamentally true, almost instinctual, about how I felt. I knew—at least in our case—she was looking for something by being with multiple partners. Or maybe she was hiding from something, but the more time I spent with her, the more obvious it became.

  I was very fucking interested in possibly finding clues as to what that was.

  I kissed her lips lightly, half caring I’d have candy apple lipstick on my mouth, half not.

  We pulled up to the curb before she could answer, but before the driver opened her door, she said, “Thank you for this. It means a lot to me.”

  At least we were on the same page.

  When we arrived, Simone was already there waiting for us at the bar. Clearly, I liked that. We were a little early, so our table wasn’t available yet, and Nora led me to her.

  “Simone,” Nora said as we stepped to her stool. She turned, I recognized her face from the picture. Almond shaped, some subtle Asian features. Long dark hair. Thin like Nora, but shorter.

  Where Nora was svelte, she was just skinny. She didn’t have the air about her that Nora had, but she was a beautiful woman.

  She leaned up to kiss Nora on the cheek first, then she stood to kiss mine. Touching the arm of my coat she pitched forward, but only made the motion of kissing my cheek, never making contact.

  I didn’t want her lipstick on me, so I appreciated that.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Reagan.”

  My name didn’t sound the same from her lips. All of these things I noticed and compared how they made me feel against how I responded to Nora.

  Turns out, love makes me biased.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” I said. “You can call me Reggie.” I didn’t much care, and strangely it made her more of an acquaintance to me.

  Nora swallowed, then said, “You’re early.”

  “I know. I thought I’d get a few drinks in me first. It’s been a while.” Then, her eyebrows lifted as she tipped back the last of her cocktail. She surveyed us as I lifted my hand to the barman.

  “You two are a beautiful couple,” she claimed.

  Nora clung to my side, her head briefly leaning on my shoulder when she said, “Thank you.”

  She gave her a work smile.

  I already felt like I was ahead, not that it was a game, but wasn’t it? It was like chess. Her move, my move. Work smile. Checkmate.

  I silently questioned Simone about what she was drinking by nodding at her glass.

  “Perfect vodka martini,” she answered.

  I glanced at Nora to see what she’d have, and her eyebrow rose as she said, “I’ll have that, too.”

  When in Rome.

  “Three perfect vodka martinis, please,” I requested with the bartender.

  Nora didn’t let go of me until we were seated. I noticed this was different than a typical night out.

  Martinis came and went down casually as we talked and waited for our meal. Nora and Simone had many friends in common, so mostly I listened.

  “I didn’t even realize you were in Chicago until Janel told me,” Simone said. “Had I known, I would have called you.” She smiled.

  “Yes, for now. I leave for Zurich next week.”

  “And I’m headed back to Minneapolis tomorrow,” Simone added. “So at least we didn’t totally miss each other, and thank you for inviting me tonight.”

  As we ate, conversation turned to jobs and trips taken. I felt comfortable, but Nora didn’t relax. Her posture never eased, her voice never regulated to the tone I was most familiar with.

  “Reggie, I must say, I was surprised when Nora said you’d never done this before.” She was being coy, but discreet.

  I chose to take that in a way that didn’t offend me.

  I know plenty. Nora is satisfied.

  “Only a fool thinks he knows everything,” I said and gave Nora a smile as I tipped back the last of my savory cocktail.

  “You didn’t warn me about him, Nora,” she giggled. “He’s quite the alpha male, isn’t he?”

  Some people don’t appreciate conversation about themselves when they’re present, but I didn’t mind it at the moment. I wanted to hear Nora’s response.

  We locked eyes and she tipped her head, “Oh, I don’t know. He’s very insightful. He thinks a lot. Broods even. Sometimes I wonder what he’s plotting against me.” Then, her head tilted in the other direction, and she added, “Other times, he’s charming and slightly funny.” She gifted my view a grin designed for me. “He’s challenging but genuinely kind. However, he redefines possessive for me.”

  It felt like a tease, not the joking kind. The carrot in front of the rabbit kind.

  I wasn’t a bunny.

  “For some, possessiveness is interpretational. For some, only a perspective. For me, it’s fundamental. If I want something—someone—I go after it. Flexibility is something I’ve learned to be a very useful tool when trying to acquire new things. Take you, for example,” I said. “Sometimes changes, adjustments, have to be made to gain. I like knowing what you need so that I can qualify myself in giving it to you.”

  I took the leather folder in hand and slipped my credit card into it next to the bill, catching a look at Simone. She was flushed, looking between Nora and me. With her elbow perched on the table, she stroked her neck.

  We found silence, and it followed us to the car. We rode back to the Lunar with Simone, Nora in the middle holding my hand like she was afraid to let me go.

  THIRTEEN

  PAST

  NORA—Friday, November 21, 2008

  I held tight to his hand in the car, thinking how shameful it was of me to tell her the wrong time by thirty minutes, but she’d been there early anyway.

  Thanks, karma.

  I wasn’t sure why I’d done it anyway. Regardless, there was no real harm done.

  Inside my apartment, I went to the kitchen as Simone looked around, finding my perfume collection.

  “Can I help you with anything?” Reagan asked me as I pulled three martini glasses from my bar rack and began looking for my shaker.

  “No, thank you, but I think a few more drinks would be nice.” I definitely needed another. Maybe two.

  I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. This was something I wanted.

  Wasn’t it?

  Simone had been chatty and damn near vulgar when we’d had
dinner. I didn’t expect for her to be so different. After Reagan—Reggie, my fickle mind reminded me—said what he had at dinner, she’d changed almost completely.

  Being timid and nearly meek. Not saying much, but I noticed the glances. The blinking. The way she subtly petted her skin.

  She was trying to seduce him, in ways I never had.

  My brain fired all of these conflicting things at me. The ice and steal rattled obnoxiously, as I shook vermouth and vodka and watched her inspect my collection.

  My precious things. Don’t touch.

  He watched me, then turned in the bar stool to see what had my attention.

  Had this been a mistake?

  I felt shook up, like oil and water my thoughts fought for buoyancy.

  This is who you are, Nora. This is what you know.

  Maybe showing him this side of me would make him regret being with me, maybe he’d get wise and realize that eventually, I’d lose interest.

  Just like my mother did. Just like I had in the past. He’d finally learn that I wasn’t good for him, or what he wanted. I’d never be able to really give him what he needed. That I wasn’t capable of promising him forever, not without lying anyway.

  The thought that conflicted me most was: what if he likes it?

  I felt a cold sweat break across my shoulders and my pulse nearly burst through my veins.

  I guessed we’d soon find out.

  I had been reluctant to leave for Switzerland, especially after this morning, but it was becoming clear to me leaving on this note would give us some time to think. Breathing room. Reflection.

  I finished concocting the trio of drinks, garnishing them with olives, and lifted the fullest to my lips. I watched Simone’s eyes meet Reagan’s and then she slowly walked our way. Her hips swaying, arms loose at her sides.

  She stood next to Reagan near the end of the bar and faced away from me. Her arm slid up his coat jacket, and he bristled at her touch, then he looked at me.

  Was it permission he wanted?

  This was my world though, and even I knew it. He’d take his cues from me. I’d gotten us there, now I had to go through with it.

 

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