My Tye

by Kristin Daniels

  And he was a Dom.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about that. About him. About him dominating her.

  She shifted on the couch, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her knees as she continued to stare at him. He sat with his legs spread wide and his arms loose at his sides. She watched his chest rising and falling on strong and steady breaths. Air blew from between his lips on a soft snore, and she smiled.

  She always thought she’d been good at reading people, but hell, she’d missed this—missed him—completely. He was all she’d dreamed about in those months leading up to her visiting Club Euphoria. Only now she wasn’t dreaming. He was real and he was right here in front of her. He was ready and willing to not only protect her, but to be that one person she hoped she’d someday find.

  He stirred on a louder snore, then slowly opened his eyes and glanced around the room in an adorable sleep-induced haze.

  “Hey,” he muttered, settling his gaze on her. “How long have I been out?”

  “Not sure,” she answered. “I just woke up myself.”

  He started to sit up, then stopped halfway. “No nightmares?”

  “Oh. Wow. No, not a one. Thank God.”

  “Progress, maybe?”

  She hoped so. “Either that or I was so exhausted my brain decided to just shut all the way down.”

  Smiling at that, he straightened fully and stretched his arms above his head, which made her itch to do the same. She tossed the throw off her legs and set her feet on the floor, gauging her strength before attempting to go completely vertical.

  “How’re you feeling?” he asked, as if reading her mind.

  “Amazingly, I don’t feel too horrible.” She tested out her neck and shoulders by rolling them a couple times, just as she’d done earlier before getting in the shower. This time around, she felt even better. She stood slowly, bracing herself for that whoa moment where her stomach flipped and her head pounded.

  But neither ailment materialized. She was pretty sure that the food she had managed to get down helped with her lack of stomach spins, and every time she slept even a little, the stabs in her brain lessened. She certainly didn’t feel back to normal, but she’d take this okay-ness over feeling like some boxer’s live-action speedbag any day of the week.

  When Tye glanced to the clock on the mantle, her gaze naturally followed. Ten after eight, the clock read.

  He said out loud the same thought that popped into her head. “We slept all damn afternoon.” He pulled his cell phone out and slid his finger over it a few times, then slipped it back in his pants pocket.

  Which reminded her…

  “Did you call about my house?”

  “I did, right after you fell asleep.” He headed into the kitchen and over to the fridge, grabbing two bottles of water off the shelf before retracing his steps and stopping in front of her again.

  When he handed her the water, she took it and waited. “And?” she finally said.

  He cracked open his bottle and took a big gulp, as if he was putting off telling her something awful.

  “They didn’t find anything evidence-worthy. There or at Pete’s place.”

  Well damn.

  Hearing him say that tore her up inside, because she didn’t know if the deputies not finding anything made her feel better or worse. It certainly didn’t help their situation any. “So I can go back—”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he interrupted just as she added, “to pick up a few things.”

  He stopped short of saying anything more.

  “You thought I wanted to leave?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Even if you did, I’d talk you out of it. You’re not safe. Not yet. Not until we find the person who attacked you.”

  “I know. I’m not so foolish I can’t see that.”

  The set of his shoulders softened some. “I wasn’t insinuating that you were.”

  “I understand how serious this is,” she said, giving a snippet of her strength a chance to show through.

  “And it’s my job to make sure you’re not in harm’s way. To keep you secure. To—”

  “Control me,” she finished for him.

  He sighed. “My control defines me, Laine. I can’t just shut it off. When it comes to this, to making sure you stay alive, I wouldn’t want to shut it off.”

  When it came down to her living or dying, she wouldn’t want him to either. At the same time, however, she wasn’t used to someone else calling all the shots for her. She’d always taken care of herself, and up to now she’d done a damn fine job of it. Her desire to hand over control in the bedroom was one thing, but to give it up in her everyday life as well?

  “I’ll do what I think is best,” he went on. “No matter what that may be.”

  “I know you will. But you have to understand that’s not something I’m used to. I’ve never had to rely on anyone before. Not until now. Not until you.” She stepped toward him, momentarily letting go of her confusion and instead seeking a taste of the reassurances he so easily gave her. “I wasn’t looking to go anywhere. You make me feel safe here. Protected. And that’s exactly what I need right now.”

  And without having to say a single word more, he moved in and fulfilled that need. He took the water from her and tossed both of their bottles onto the couch next to them. In another breath, he pulled her in close, cradling her cheek in one hand while he settled his other over the dip at her lower back.

  “You are protected. Nothing’s going happen to you here, I swear it.”

  The power of his words swept through her, warming her all over, making the rest of her aches and pains a little easier to deal with. When she leaned into him and flattened her palms on his chest, the realization struck her that she’d never touched him this way before. She found that she liked it, liked the feel of his pecs under her hand and the strength of his muscles simmering just beneath his shirt.

  She also found that she wanted more of that. More of him.

  “I know that, too,” she whispered.

  The deep brown of his eyes took on the color of coal, becoming darker the longer they stood there holding each other. He looked as if he wanted to kiss her again—as if he was dying to kiss her again—but instead of giving in, he held himself back.

  The last thing she wanted was for him to treat her like some fragile flower that might crumple to the ground or fall apart under his hands. She was made from sturdier stock than that, and it was high time he knew that about her, too.

  So she stood on her toes and kissed the hell out of him.

  For a second he didn’t move. But then it was as if something inside him snapped. He took over, claiming her with his lips, his tongue—his entire freaking body. He gripped her harder, smashing them together until not even the slightest of breaths could squeeze in between them. He slid his hand from her cheek to the nape of her neck, tilting her head gently. He controlled every aspect of the kiss, melting any thoughts that might’ve been left inside her head. He had her forgetting everything—everything except how much she’d always wanted him, just like this.

  Then, in the next breath, it was over. He pulled away from her—not just from her lips, but from every other part of her too. He stepped back and ran a hand over his five-o’clock shadow, piercing her with a heartbreaking, guilt-ridden stare.

  “Damn it, Laine. I shouldn’t have…”

  She met his stare with one of her own, one that she filled to the brim with a hefty dose of you’ve-got-to-be-kidding.

  “You’re hurt. You’ve been brutally attacked. Jesus, the nightmares, the things that man did… And I keep diving in, bulldozing over you, kissing you. That’s sure as hell not protecting you—”

  “Don’t.”

  He stopped talking. God, for a second he looked like he stopped breathing.

  “I kissed you that time, Tye. So, don’t. Please don’t do what you’re doing. Don’t treat me differently.”

  He dropped his hands to his sides. “I’m not—�
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  “Yes you are. I know you don’t think so, but you are.”

  “I won’t hurt you, damn it. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

  The tension that screamed across her shoulders when he stepped away from her eased somewhat with his words. “You’re not hurting me. Truth is, now that we know more about each other, I need you to touch me. Now that I’ve confided in you, I need you to kiss me. I need you to look at me the way you would’ve had the attack never happened. Because if you don’t, if you pull away from me after I shared my secret with you—”

  “Then I come across no better than the man who beat you.”

  She wasn’t sure it was as bad as that, but it was pretty fricking close. “I’m strong, Tye. Yes, I’m freaked out by this. Yes, I’m concerned as hell. But I’m not stupid. Nor am I naïve. I know violence, not sex—whether it be bondage or domination or the most vanilla act you can imagine—is what drove that man to do what he did.”

  He stepped closer to her but didn’t reach for her again. “You’re right. That lunatic certainly didn’t restrain you and beat the hell out of you because he wanted to get all cozy and make love to you. But what he did is still so fresh. The evidence of it is on your face. On your wrists, your ankles. It’s right there, in your eyes.”

  “And so that means you can’t touch me? When that’s probably the one thing I need more than anything else right now?”

  This time he did reach for her. He held her hands, both of them, placing them back where they had been on his chest. “You’re sure?”

  Her answer was instantaneous. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

  “Then I won’t stop,” he whispered, brushing his cheek over hers. The stubble scratched along her skin with tiny explosions of bristled heat. “I’ll take my cues from you and we’ll move on from there.”

  Her cues must’ve said Kiss my neck, because that’s what he did next. He dotted soft, lingering kisses just beneath her ear and down her neck to her collarbone. Goose bumps prickled over her skin every time he changed spots. She shivered, she couldn’t help it. And when he let go of her hands to wrap his arms around her once again, she closed in, too. She felt bolder now, more confident than she had since she left her house yesterday evening. She slipped her hands around his neck and held on.

  “Will you take me to my house?”

  A tremor flashed through his body, an instant tightening along his arms and shoulders that was impossible for her to miss. It only lasted a split-second, but the message behind it was clear enough.

  “I know you don’t want me to go back,” she said. “But I have to at some point. Besides,” she added, trying to lighten the mood, “I can’t live in your clothes forever.”

  He pulled back and smiled at her. “Sure you could. This t-shirt never looked that good on me.”

  She raised her eyebrows, giving him a Did you really just say that? look, which made him chuckle too.

  “Bad?” he asked.

  “Very,” she said, helpless to not smile back at him.

  He straightened his spine, taking in a deep breath as he did. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  She didn’t say anything to that. She just waited patiently for him to answer her question.

  His smile fell away as he turned serious. “If I get the feeling that anything’s off, we leave. No questions asked. I say move, you don’t hesitate. You glue yourself to my side and we get our asses back to the truck so I can get you out of there. Deal?”

  “Absolutely,” she said. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

  Thing was, now that she knew he was a Dom? Saying that to him suddenly added an entirely new dimension to her answer. A dimension he picked up on, if the sultry flash in his eyes was any indication.

  “Okay then.” He kissed her again, quick and soft, before reaching for his hat and keys on the end table. Turning back, he held out his hand for her to take. “Ready?”

  Despite wanting this, a tiny tingle burst in her stomach. Going to her house sure as hell wouldn’t be any kind of walk in the park, but for her own peace of mind she had to see what the bastard had done in there. The sooner she confronted what he’d destroyed, the quicker she’d be able to deal with it all. Too many unknowns, for her—for anyone, really—were never a good thing.

  She slipped her fingers over his palm and nodded. After she stuck her feet in a pair of Tye’s too-big Adidas slides sitting by the door, they walked across the dusty drive to where he’d parked his truck earlier. And just as before, when she climbed in from the driver’s side, she scooted only as far as the middle of the bench seat.

  They rode in silence, both of them getting a little lost in their own thoughts, she supposed. Hers ricocheted back and forth, swinging from here to there, as she tried not to let those unknowns invade her head and mess with her mind.

  That, of course, was easier said than done.

  Dusk slipped away into darkness as Tye turned down her street. The streetlights flickered on as they pulled alongside a patrol car sitting sentry outside the front of her house. Tye stopped and hit the button to lower his window.

  “Tom.”

  “Evenin’, sir. Everything’s been quiet,” he said before Tye had a chance to ask him a question.

  “Good. The back’s still open?”

  The deputy shook his head. “No. We found a set of keys hanging from a hook in the kitchen and tested each one on the door. We boarded up the broken window and locked the house up tight once we found the key that worked.”

  Tom handed the set of keys over to Tye through the open windows. “Thanks,” Tye said. “Why don’t you head on home now? I doubt anyone will be coming back and there’s no need for you to sit here and babysit an empty house.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  With that, Tye closed the truck’s window and pulled into her driveway. The orange glow from the streetlight cast a shadow as they parked between the house and the detached garage that sat forty feet or so behind it. An eeriness crept over her, and she hated giving in to the shudders it created, even if it was only for a second.

  She could feel the awareness heighten inside Tye as he opened the truck door and stepped out. He kept his back to the interior of the truck, taking in their surroundings by looking left, then right, along with everywhere in between before turning back to her.

  “Remember,” he said, holding out his hand, “one off feeling and we’re out of here.”

  She slipped his fingers onto his palm. “I know.”

  She slid from the truck and he ushered her gently toward the back door. The glass was still strewn underfoot and it crunched as they walked over the shards and ground them into the concrete drive. The sound mimicked that of fingernails on a chalkboard to her, and she stiffened within Tye’s hold as another tremble threatened to rack her body.

  “I’m okay,” she said before he had the chance to change his mind about going inside.

  “I know you are,” he replied. “This would be hard on anyone, Laine. But I’m right here with you. Ready?”

  She nodded and he unlocked the door, flipping the light on as he took the lead and stepped inside her house. Nothing felt out of the ordinary, not at first. And not until they made their way through the kitchen and got closer to the hallway. A stench hit her then, but she wasn’t sure if it was real or memory-induced. To think that man had been inside her house…

  She gagged a little, trying to cover it up with a cough. But Tye was smarter than that. He stopped next to the first gash in the wall and turned to look at her.

  “We don’t have to do this.”

  He may not have to, but she did. “Yes, I do.”

  She ran her hand along the wall as they continued on toward her bedroom. The jagged edges made her angry all over again, the deep cuts fueling the fire growing underneath her skin. But drywall can be fixed, she told herself. It was only a wall, and didn’t represent anything more to her than that.

  But her bedroom was a different story. It had a
lways been her haven, her cozy cocoon where she could let her hair down and allow her fantasies to run wild. She’d imagined Tye inside her bedroom more times than she could count, but she never dreamed it would be like this. Not with him standing inside the doorway with his arms crossed and his face drawn tight with fury.

  Her bed had been stripped of its linens, and the doll Tye had told her about earlier was gone, too. The paint splatters showering her headboard and the wall behind it remained, the angry spots traveling as far away as her curtains covering the window to the left and the closet door to the right.

  “They had to take the doll and comforter in for evidence,” Tye told her.

  She’d figured that was the case, and felt a little cheated because of it. If she was to deal with this head-on, it would’ve been better for her to have seen it all.

  Tye cleared his throat and took another step into the room, stopping at the side of her bed. He loosened his arms from over his chest before tucking his hands in his front pockets and gesturing with a hitch of his chin toward the center of the bed. “The doll was in the middle. There,” he nodded. “Closer to the top by the pillows. It was tied to the third rung over on the headboard.”

  Laine’s heart stopped for a moment, but not because of the horrific image he described.

  “The paint had been poured on the bed first, it looked like, and then the doll thrown on top of it.”

  Her heart started up again, blood pounding through every vein in her body. She stood at the foot of her bed and squeezed her eyes. Tye didn’t move toward her. He only lowered his voice and continued on.

  “The screwdriver had been shoved through the belly of the doll.”

  She felt him shift slightly, felt the electricity from his anger and wavering control scurry over her skin. He was giving her what she needed, letting her live through his vision, even though he hated every second, every word he said to her.

  She stood there only a moment longer, until the image he described seared itself into her brain. When she opened her eyes, she didn’t look at him. Instead, she ran her fingers along the edge of the mattress and walked toward the other side.